#god these two really made it to the Olympics

[celestiamour]

‧₊˚✧ ❛[ mad with need ]❜

ft. logan howlett x f! reader — xmen, marvel

╰₊✧ you want him so bad that you feel like you’re going crazy so he indulges you┊3.0k words

setting: deadpool & wolverine (2024) worst! logan contains: smut!! dom logan & sub reader┊x wade wilson too, age gap, dirty fantasies from a horny reader (who is actually insecure about herself), size difference, no prep we’re dying like nicepool, riding & unprotected piv, breeding/creampie, a bit rushed i need this out my wips

➤ author's note: okay so this is actually the very first logan fic i started, but i have no idea why it took me so long to finish it? it’s a bit all over the place, but i hope some people enjoy anyway!

has he realized you were there and simply testing your self-control, or is he just being so effortlessly sexy again that you aren’t sure if you’re in love or jealous? was there any other reason for him to be laid out on the beat-up couch like something to feast on when he was simply holding a bottle of liquor in one hand to sip on and flipping through the channels of a barely-working box television with a remote in the other? why else would he be so delectable around a known pervert(s, wade is just as bad as you are, just more focused on the possible destruction of his home rather than the pansexual panic between you and logan plaguing him) if not to tempt you?

you’re constantly fawning over the sight of him and letting out dreamy sighs which have become more common lately than you would like to admit, swearing that you could gaze upon him for every second of the day and not tire of it. they say “god gives his most difficult battles to his strongest soldiers”, yet the battle assigned to you is restraining yourself from pouncing on him at the very moment and begging to suck his cock. you know that you’re horny most hours of the day and also kinda a brazen whore, but the way he makes you wet in record time should be worthy of a gold olympic medal.

every time his lips wrap around the rim of the glass bottle, you can’t help but imagine them somewhere else. the image of his handsome face between your legs and scruffy facial hair coated in your slick while he ravishes you haunts your mind whenever you try to sleep, yet the phantom sensation of his tongue on you while his nose stimulates your clit helps you rest in the end. you bet that he would be great at eating pussy too, with his sharp tongue and arrogant attitude— god. 

he’s also so jacked that even when he’s resting, his muscles still seem to bulge with prominent veins like a nurse’s wet dream and it has you downright drooling. now that the sleeves of his suit were gone, you could see how beefy his arms were, and seeing any inch of his skin had you acting up like a victorian man seeing a woman’s ankles for the first time. he could probably crush your skull like an egg if you ever found yourself head-locked in them (you’ve seen him do it to wade out of irritation, and you’ve never been so jealous).

and not to mention how peggable his shapely ass is, there’s really no limit to all the things you want to try with him if you were given the chance—

“are you finished staring?” his gruff voice brought you back to reality, refocusing your vision as he made a slight gesture to his body with one of his rare smirks, “like what you see?” it’s a rhetorical question, he knows how good he looks despite his age and you have already made your attraction towards him well-established. 

you don’t need to say anything, he can tell what you’re thinking as clearly as day, so you don’t bother making any dirty remarks like usual and just walk out the room. you paced around the house for a minute or two to calm yourself down until you eventually ran into wade. “oh my god,” you cupped your face with your hands, eyes becoming big and round as if you were going to cry, “i want him so bad, i feel like i’m gonna lose my mind if i don’t fuck him!”

“well, why haven’t you? i know for a fact that my presence isn’t enough to stop you from climbing him like a tree, so spill it!”

“uhhhh,” you pointed your fingers together to exaggerate self-consciousness, “what if… what if he doesn’t like me and just sees me as some annoying, excessively horny kid?”

“can you believe this bitch?” he scoffed, looking at the invisible audience that was always watching before grabbing your shoulders and violently shaking you, “listen here missy, he definitely likes you— i have yet to see that man smile at anything else that isn’t your face and comments that rival jjk twitter fans in vulgarity! why are you suddenly getting cold feet now when you’re such a player? you’re suddenly screaming, crying, and throwing up over peanut whom you’ve been hitting on non-stop since we found him?!”

“i don’t know! it’s different, he’s my hero, and— i know it’s hard for you to believe, but he’s not even half the asshole my previous flings were. besides, he so fucking hot—”

“yeah, but he’s also so fucking old— his dick is probably all shriveled up—” the sound of the said man clearing his throat made him jump out of his skin, slowly turning his head to look at the older man before giggling nervously and waving his hands around in some form of awkward greeting. even if he can regenerate and wounds are more like papercuts, the last thing he wanted was to get stabbed in the balls by his adamantium claws again for making such a comment. “ahaha, how much did you hear…?”

“enough,” he grunted, turning his attention to you, “and you’re coming with me.”

“huh—?” there was hardly a moment for you to properly react before he suddenly bent down to grab you by the waist and toss you over his shoulder, “you’re not even gonna ask me to dinner first?!” you must have looked like a fish out of the water with how your mouth was agape with surprise, and you heard him genuinely chuckle in amusement. both from the fact that you didn’t see this coming after all you’ve been saying to him as well as the fact that he could pick you up and throw you around like you weighed nothing.

“well, you didn’t exactly greet me with a ‘hello’ before shamelessly undressing me with your eyes when we first met, now did you?” you couldn’t see if he was smiling or not considering that you were upside-down. the current angle only gave you a close-up view of his perfect ass (not that you were complaining, you need to know his squat routine), unsure if the heat on your face was from the embarrassment of him calling you out or simply from the blood rushing to your head.

“what about me? are you lovebirds really going to leave me all by myself, lonely and yearning for the companionship of another while you two fuck like rabbits?”

“ahh, go fuck yourself.” the grin on his face dissipated the moment he opened his mouth, but it wasn’t enough to ruin his mood as he carried you away to the closest bedroom available, quickly flinging you on the bed without a bother to be careful when handling you since he knew that you could and have taken worse as deadpool’s sidekick. “why are you so nervous? think i don’t want you as much as you want me?”

“wait, actually?” your usually confident facade of the overly forward flirt was faltering more and more by the second.

“you’re so busy ogling my body that you haven’t even noticed the way i look at you, huh?” it’s obvious logan was an absolute beast of a man, but when he cages you with his arms between his bulky frame and the mattress, you feel like a little field mouse against a lion. the way your pupils dilate as you look up at him with adorned excitement has him so fucking feral, heat stirring in his stomach and blood rushing to his cock. he traced over your outfit, admiring how the skin-tight leather hugged your curved. “wearing such a slutty little things that leaves nothing to the imagination, and you expected me not to think about pinning you down and fucking you until you pass out?”

you shivered at his words, arousal pooling in your underwear and warmth spreading throughout your body under your skin. this cheeky son of a bitch can smell it too, the sweet smell of desire, sensing how needy you are for his touch and how your pussy is just begging for his attention. 

as much as he wanted to rip your clothing off and pound into you like there was no tomorrow, he wanted to take his time to properly treasure the cute sidekick who has been reminding him how it feels to be a man again, young and unafraid to pursue the woman of his dreams and treat her right the way that countless of others failed to do. (you’re going to laugh hysterically at him later on down the line when you hear him say that, never thinking you could be the object of anyone’s affection past a one-night stand, but the look in his eyes makes you realize he’s telling the truth and you’ll get all flustered over it.) 

you can taste the alcohol from earlier when he kisses you and moan into it, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him closer, all teeth, tongue, and animalistic want. he ran a hand down your torso to reach the zipper of your suit, undoing it in one swift motion, exposing your bare chest to his eager eyes.

“no bra?”

“i don’t need it when the suit— ah!” 

he cut you off, not caring about the intricacies of how the costume supported everything when he would only get distracted, moving his lips to take one of your perk nipples in his mouth and sucking like it was going to give him milk or something while pinching the other one in between his fingers. he’s like a kid on christmas playing with his new toy: palming at your breasts, cupping and squishing them together, and realizing that his large hands could practically cover them entirely.

“fuckk, you’re so pretty, doll,” he drawled, letting go of your teat with a ‘pop’ and kissing your neck before making you gasp by sinking his teeth into your skin. you gasped at the sudden sensation, deep enough to leave a lasting indent but not deep enough to draw blood, as he soothed the fresh wound by licking it with his tongue. everyone was going to know that you were his, especially that motherfucker he knows is listening in on the other side of the door with his cock in his hands.

 “logan…” you rasp, voice barely above a whisper.

“what is it, princess?” it was a nickname he has used plenty of times, yet it felt completely different in such a sexually charged situation, so much more intimate in a way that you feel your heart racing even faster than before and a rush of energy within. 

“need you…” you murmured.

“come on, a little louder, you need to use your words.” 

“fucking hell,” you covered your face with your hands, trying to ignore the way your cheeks burned, “i need you, logan! i’m gonna go crazy if you don’t fuck me right now!”

“hm, is that so?” he had been resting on his side up until now, laying on his back and lifting you up with both hands under your arms. you found yourself sitting pretty in his lap, straddling him, legs on either side of his waist. “why don’t you work for it then? work for what you wanted so badly this entire time?”

you inhaled sharply, looking down at this fine specimen of a mutant under you made of pure muscle and adamantium with a noticeable tent in his pants, a cocky grin gracing his features daring you to continue. only a fool wouldn’t take up his challenge. biting the inside of your mouth, you began to fully strip yourself of all clothing, kicking it off to the side to be forgotten and showing off your beautiful bare body that logan has been dreaming about since the moment he met you. “take your clothes off too,” you huffed, “it’s not fair for me to be the only one naked.”

he hummed in agreement, taking off the upper half of his yellow and blue-detailed suit, revealing his rippling abs and pecs— age has yet to make a dent in his physique, he doesn’t even look real. he’s not going to remove the bottom half though, both because you’re already on top of him and because you still need to “work for it.” 

experimentally, you rolled your hips on his bulge, feeling a twinge of amusement when he visibly had to clench his jaw to prevent a moan from slipping out. he’s just as pent-up as you are, no matter how hard he’s trying to hide it right now. you fiddled with the metal of his zipper for a moment before pulling it down, motions fidgety with nerves yet still determined to see this through. 

your eyes widen at the sight of his fully erect cock, noting instantly that he’s bigger than any other guy you’ve been with, yet still feeling your mouth water at the size and the vein trailing its underbelly. “is it even going to fit?” you manage to breathe out, reaching out to run a finger over the leaking tip and hearing him hiss.

“only one way to find out, but i think you can take it.” 

placing your hands on his shoulders for balance, you put his theory to the test and raised your body to sink yourself onto him, whimpering at the pleasurable stretch when you manage to make it past the tip. you’re so fucking soaked from your own thoughts and the few minutes of foreplay earlier that you didn’t even need his fingers to prep you, just using your slick as a form of natural lube and feeling him slip into you inch by inch.

“that’s it, doll, just like that,” he praised, the words going right to your head, really enjoying the show of you struggling to take all of him.

“mmhh, lo—” his name came out in a more whiny voice than expected with your eyes rolling back and nails raking into his skin. your thighs were aching with the constant repetitive motion of working yourself up and down his cock, taking one step back for two steps forward, more than halfway there yet unsure if you could handle it all when you felt so impossibly full already.

“shhh, i know, i know, sweetheart— just take your time, i’m not going anywhere.” his words are so sweet despite being a complete asshole by laying back and letting you do all the hard work, hands behind his head and everything while watching his cock slowly disappearing between your folds.

you look at him through glossy half-lidded eyes, brain turned to absolute mush, not even realizing that you had finally taken him to the base and was comfortably nestled on his cock. it took a few moments to adjust to his girth, breathing heavily with the swelling feeling of satisfaction developing within you. you have barely even started, and yet it was already so much better than anything else— he was so much better than anyone else. 

“you okay?” he waits for you to blink to process his words before nodding slightly, letting out a soft ‘yeah’ before your eyes went wide when he suddenly grabbed your waist and positioned you under him once again. you didn’t notice because you went dumb with dick (to put it bluntly), but he had been restraining himself from flipping you over to be on top or trying to buck his hips into you before you were ready. 

he then started thrusting into you at a relentless pace, your hands flying up to his biceps and clinging on for dear life to find purchase. there was no frame to go with this mattress you were resting on, but you were sure it would be banging against the wall until it broke if it was there. your eyes were screwed shut with your head thrown back into the pillow, letting out pathetic pitched moans along with stutters of his name as the orgasm in your stomach builds.

“aah, lo-logan!”

“don’t worry, i got you,” he lazily circled your clit with his thumb, feeling you clench even more tightly at the action, “just let yourself go, relax— cum for me, doll.”

you cried out as your climax washed over you, gushing all over his cock and the pants of his suit that neither of you bothered to take off earlier. it’s a shame that you ruined his clothing so soon when he just got this costume, but honestly, he likes it a lot better when the yellow is stained with the evidence of how good he made you feel.

the way your walls spasmed around him made him quickly follow suit, shooting ribbons of his seed into you and painting your insides white. perhaps he would have been able to hold on for a bit longer when he was younger, but he can’t find himself caring in the least when you were looking up at him like he was everything right now.

he leaned down to kiss you, slowly pulling out of you, being careful not to rest on top of you and crush you under his weight, generally being uncharacteristically sweet towards you in stark comparison to how he was rocking your world like you were the last two souls on earth just a minute ago.

“so… do you like me?” it was the tone he grew accustomed to when you and wade were teasing him, feeling you wrap your arms around him with a sigh and snuggling into his chest.

“yeah… i like you a lot more than you think…”

[midwestprincesss]

a/n: reposted this again cause for some reason the original one w the ask barely surfaced like. anyone .

contents: sub patrick my beloved, reader is a lil funny, patrick is #1 in the slut Olympics, finger sucking, p in v, more stuff. blah blah blah.

patrick zweig is a whore.

if you look up "whore" online, a picture of patrick comes up. you told him that. he didn't take it well.

"i'm not a whore!" he protested. he didn't sound sure of it either, though. and the very obvious boner under his sweatpants spoke for itself.

"patrick, you're literally hard. i didn't even do anything" you deadpanned, staring him right in the eye.

he scoffed then took the pillow next to him and covered his growing erection with it. "you're wearing that shirt again. you know how i feel about it"

you looked down at your shirt. it was an " I ❤️ Art" top which you got at one of art's recent matches, as a joke. (but you really did love art though)

you laughed. "this shirt gets you hard? i mean, patrick, i know how you feel about art, but, a shirt that only mentions him? c'mon man"

"UGHH." patrick groaned as his face turned red. "it's the way the text stretches because of your tits, okay? fuck you."

"i don't know about you fucking me, but me, on the other hand, i'll be glad to do it" you smirked, proud of the little pun you just made.

patrick's hips bucked up into the pillow at that. "yes, please. god, just fuck me. i've been hard the whole day." he cried.

"you've been hard the whole day? how did you manage to actually get through the day without jerking off?" you joked, referencing, well, his slutty tendencies.

patrick blinked and looked around the room suspiciously. "i uh. i did. like two times." he admitted.

"WHAT?!" you screeched. "but- when the fuck?! i was with you like the whole day. except for when you went to the bathroom that one time"

"well. i jerked off then. once" he said.

"and the other time?" you asked.

"uh." he held back. "i uh, i came in my pants. just a few minutes ago when you called me a whore."

your eyes widened. "well then, i was right, wasn't i?"

"i guess so." he said, hips still bucking into the pillow.

"then i gotta treat you like a whore too." you said and took the pillow from his hands and threw it on the floor. immediately straddling his lap, you started making out with him. messily. he moaned into your mouth as you explored his with your tongue. he bit your lip and you pulled back, mouth open, pretending you're going in for more. only to pull back when his mouth chases your again. he moans again. this time, because of frustration.

"don't fucking tease me, i'm so hard, fuck. and i'm so wet, just take my boxers off. please. i'll let you do anything you want to me if you take them off." he pleaded.

you raised your eyebrow at him. "i can do anything i want to you, even if you don't let me." you giggled. "but just to be nice, i'll take them off."

and shit, he was right. his boxers were fucking drenched. of cum, thanks to the fact that he had came in his pants. like the slut he is.

"hey uh. you have a bit of boxers in your cum." you couldn't help but joke.

you grabbed his jaw, softly, and then slammed him back onto the pillow, right hand all over his face. then, as your fingers reached his mouth, he immediately parted his lips and took them in, sucking on them while holding eye contact. you let him have his fun for a couple of seconds, then tried removing them in order to take off his boxers. he didn't like that.

"put them back." he whined, as he took your two fingers and put them back in his mouth, pressing them against his tongue. "i can take my boxers off by myself."

his little high-pitched moans filled the room, all while not even being touched by you yet. he finally let go of your fingers with a loud pop.

you looked at his pretty dick resting on his stomach. he was really, really fucking big. girthy too. pink, wet tip with a brown-ish base, slightly curved to the left. just right to hit that one spot in your pussy you couldn't reach by yourself.

"please. please. please. pleas-" he started. only you cut him off. he did this often. repeating the world "please" until you sucked him off. or fucked him. or did anything, really. anything other than staring at him and not touching.

"shut it, zweig. i'll only fuck you if you convince me with your words, but you're not allowed to say please. if you say please, i'll leave you like this." you smile confidently at him. his dick was fucking twitching. thighs squeezing every now and then, even with you straddling him. he was doing everything in his power not to lose his shit and jerk himself off.

but he still put on that patrick zweig signature smirk. challenge accepted.

"i need you to fuck me until i can't speak coherently anymore. i need you to fuck me like if you don't do it, we'll both die. fuck me so hard that my eyes will roll to the back of my head for you. ride me until i start crying. just do it. i'm so hard it hurts. i need you-" he whimpered, trying to get his dick somehow closer to you.

and with that you took off your panties, and lined up your entrance with his dick. not sinking down on him yet.

"will you eat me out after this?" you ask.

" is that even a questi- OH FUCKK" he moaned, like someone straight from a pornographic movie. you started bouncing up and down on his cock, all while kissing and sucking at the skin of his neck, shoulders and chest. you went rough with him. but you knew that he was going to stay hard even after cumming the third time, so you didn't hold back at all.

after all, he was going to pay you back. considerably a good amount of times.

[evansbby]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐭 (𝒑𝒐𝒚𝒕 𝒅𝒓𝒂𝒃𝒃𝒍𝒆)

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dark alpha!Steve Rogers x naive omega!Reader

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: noncon, dubcon, heavy misogyny, daddy!kink, smutt in public (kind of), 18+ minors dni.

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Steve takes his omega to her first pool party.

“Hey, baby. Look at this!”

Steve takes off into a run before canon-balling into the pool, making the water splash everywhere in the process. But he surfaces with a grin, flipping his hair off his forehead. His light blonde tufts look dark brown from the water, and the sun radiates against the droplets on his pale face, making him shimmer like a diamond. You can hear a bunch of people – including Natasha – complain because the splash from his jump has completely soaked them, but all Steve does is flip them off before shooting you a smug smile.

“Wow.” You say as you walk up to the edge of the pool. “That was really cool.”

Before Steve can answer, you see someone whizz past you from your peripheral. A moment later, there’s another gigantic splash as Ransom canon-balls in next to Steve, and you yelp as the water hits you. The brunette alpha surfaces with a grin that rivals Steve’s in smugness, with the latter looking on sourly as you clap politely at Ransom’s jump.

“That wasn’t nearly as impressive as mine.” Steve scoffs, eying you warningly. You immediately stop clapping. “And you splashed water all over my girlfriend, you fucking asshole.”

“It’s a pool party, Steve. God forbid she gets a bit of water on her.” Ransom rolls his eyes as he climbs out of the pool and flips Steve off before shooting you a smile which you don’t dare return.

The two of you are at Steve’s friend Ransom’s house. Or rather, in his backyard where a pool party is in full swing. It’s a particularly hot day and everyone’s either sunbathing or swimming or licking snow-cones made from Ransom’s “state of the art snow-cone machine.” (That was the first thing the brunette alpha had shown you and Steve when the two of you had arrived. He’d bought it especially for today).

“I mean, Ransom’s pool is alright.” Steve had told you earlier when the two of you were changing in the pool-house. “But you’d think it’s an Olympic size pool from the way he shows off about it. Baby, wait till you see the pool at my house, it’s twice the size of this one.”

You had nodded, although the idea of someone even owning a swimming pool of their very own – big or small – was so completely unfathomable to you. But everyone who was here today hadn’t even blinked an eye at all the luxuries this mansion had to offer. From the huge hallways and sparkling marble floors to the gigantic backyard which resembled more of a golf course. Not to mention the pool-house alone was twice the size of your house back home!

“This place is like a castle.” You had breathed, sliding your fingers over the floor-to-ceiling glass windows of the pool-house, watching the party in full swing outside. Thor was handing out cans of beer, Natasha by his side in a pretty red bikini that made her body look incredible. Ransom and Andy were making snow-cones, and Sam and Bucky looked to be organising a game of pool volleyball. There was a net set up in the water, and it looked like they were arguing about picking teams.

You could also see a bunch of girls settled on the side of the pool, in pretty bikinis and stylish sunglasses. You recognised a few of them from campus, and that made you gulp. What if Steve left you to hang out with his friends? You pray these girls are nice and you’ll fit in.

Steve had snorted, coming up behind you with his hand on your waist, pulling you into his bare chest. “This place is not like a castle, omega. I can show you castles; you just wait till you see my house.” He had kissed down the nape of your neck, the feel of his lips making you sigh until he pulls away and frowns, tugging at your shirt. “Take this off. It’s a pool party, remember?”

He takes it off for you, licking his lips when he sees what’s underneath. He had bought the bikini for you a few days ago. It was white with baby pink strings tying the thong and also going around your neck. Steve had said it was extremely sexy and cute, but you felt vulnerable as ever and paranoid every time he’d finger the strings – like he was doing now. You’d double-tied them tightly, but all he had to do was tug at them and they’d come loose.

Steve had barely given you enough time to put your flip-flops on, as well as your cute flowery cover-up, before he’d dragged you outside to the party.

Which is where you are currently, and you can’t help but smile softly down at Steve, who looks extremely proud of the cannonball he’s just performed. He swims over to where you’re standing, reaching up to grab your ankles.

“Come in. The water’s nice and cool.”

Your heart skips a beat at how laid back he’s being. This is a different side to Steve, who was usually so stoic and strict. Either that, or he was downright devious. Sometimes though, sometimes he lets himself go and relax. Like when he’s playing video-games and gets really into it, or when the two of you are cuddling and he lets Steve Junior join in, or when the two of you study together. Or now.

“I – uh – I don’t really want to swim.” You answer awkwardly, and your alpha rolls his eyes, the grip he has on your ankles not loosening. But the thought of taking your cover-up off and being in such a revealing bikini in front of all these people has you shaking your head pleadingly at him.

“It’s a pool party, omega. That means you have to swim.” Steve tells you as if you’re a baby who doesn’t understand the concept of a pool party.

You exhale softly before sitting down by the edge of the pool and dipping your feet in, sighing at how nice the water feels. And a part of you does want to go in, but you don’t know why you feel so self-conscious here. Well, actually, you do know why. It’s because you feel so out of place, in this huge mansion of a house with all these people from college whom you probably have nothing in common with. They aren’t your friends, you don’t have any friends. And they certainly don’t want to be your friends either, you just know it.

Steve settles between your legs, spreading them and smirking up at you. He presses a light kiss to your inner thigh, and it’s innocuous enough but you still look around in alarm. But no one is watching the two of you and so you try to relax.

“Relax, omega.” Steve commands you, and you get a whiff of his summery scent and sigh as it seems to soothe you from the inside out. You shoot your alpha a small smile, and he only smirks, continuing to kiss your thigh as his hands slips up and down your bare legs. You freeze when you feel his fingers lock around your ankles, the sudden image of him cruelly tugging you into the water crossing your mind.

But Steve only lifts your foot up, licking his lips as he watches your white nail polish gleam in the sunlight. You gulp when he presses a kiss on your toe, before a dark, lustful look clouds his eyes and you pull away.

“Not here, Steve! Please!” You whisper.

“Why not? You’re my omega and I can do whatever I want with you, so–”

“Hey, Steve! Great weather, huh?”

Jake Jensen swims up to Steve, a comically wide grin on his face. He’s got a thick layer of white sunscreen all over his face, with an especially thick blot on the tip of his nose. And yet, he’s still sunburnt and slightly pink to match the shade of his salmon-coloured swimming trunks.  His eyes squint as he smiles at Steve – either because of the sun or because he’s not wearing his glasses.

Steve rolls his eyes, getting in front of you to block you from Jake’s view.

“Jensen, who the fuck invited you?”

“Uh, Ransom did? He invited the whole football team! This sure is a swell pool, huh, Steve? I’ve got one too – well, my parents do. But it’s not as big as this one.”

“I’m sure it isn’t.” Steve says drily, “Hey! Eyes on me, Jensen. Don’t even think about looking at her.”

“I wasn’t–”

“I know your angle, you fucking creep. Swimming over here and trying to act all casual so you can get a close up look at my girlfriend in her bikini.”

Jake blinks, his eyes zeroing in on you peaking over Steve’s shoulder. “I didn’t even notice her, actually, but–”

“Are you insulting my girlfriend now, Jensen? Are you fucking insinuating that she’s not noticeable?!”

“What? No–”

“Shut up, you fucking idiot. And get away from us. In fact, get out of the whole pool.” Steve points to the far corner of the backyard, where a jacuzzi bubbles away on its lonesome. “Go sit in there, Jensen. I’m banning your creepy ass from this pool. Now go before I kick you off the football team.”

You watch as Jake hurriedly swims away, a look of dismay on his face. “Steve, you shouldn’t be so mean to him– Hey!”

You yelp as your alpha’s muscular arms encircle around you, pulling you into the pool with a gentle splash. Your arms automatically go around his neck, and your legs – unable to reach the floor of the pool – instinctively wrap around his waist until you’re clinging to him like a koala.

“There. Now none of these creeps can stare at your body.” Steve’s hand slips down to squeeze your ass underwater and you jump in surprise, inadvertently rubbing your front against his crotch. His eyes darken and he clutches you closer, till you can feel his hard dick through his trunks rub against your mound which is barely concealed by your bikini. You fight yourself in order not to moan, shooting Steve a pleading look only to find that his eyes are too busy staring at your cleavage, which is ample and wet and pressed up against his chest.

“God, you’re so fucking sexy, omega.” Steve says, leaning forward to kiss you roughly. He bites at your bottom lip, almost drawing blood as his hands continue to fondle you. You feel your walls clench but you have to remind yourself that you’re in a pool with a bunch of other people. Meanwhile, underwater, Steve’s hand slips under your bikini bottoms, cupping your bare ass cheek and jiggling it lewdly.

“Fuck, why’d you have to wear such a tiny, slutty bikini, huh?” Steve whispers, licking the shell of your ear sensually and sending thrills up and down your spine. “You think you can look this sexy and cute and I won’t fuck you in the middle of this pool right now?”

“B-But, Steve! You chose this bikini!”

“Don’t lie, baby omega.” He pinches your ass again before his fingers tug threateningly at the flimsy string holding your bikini bottoms to your body. “Now everyone’s staring at your hot, tight little body because they all want to fuck you. But they can’t, because that’s my job.”

“Please don’t take my bikini off!” You plead softly, as he continues to play with the strings of your bikini-bottoms. You try to swim away from him, but he holds on tightly to you, shooting you a warning look before his eyes grow distracted by your breasts again, and his hands cup them both.

“Who told you to tease me like this, huh?” He kisses up your neck, squeezing and fondling your breasts like an animal pawing at his prey, “Who told you to wear such a tight, sexy bikini and push your tits up so they look all sexy? God, you’re killing me, baby. And I know you’re doing it on purpose, just like you always do.”

You know Steve well enough at this point to realise that when he’s riled up and horny, he tends to accuse you of baseless things like leading him on purposely. But all you’re trying to do at this very moment is make sure he doesn’t slip his dick inside you at this pool party in front of everyone. Because Steve could really be a menace when he wanted to, and his libido knew no bounds. He would definitely fuck you in front of an audience, no questions asked. In fact, he’d happily do it.

“Who’s that?” You blurt out in a desperate bid to distract him. You look toward the gates where Ransom is greeting a pretty brunette girl who you’ve never seen before. Steve follows your gaze and snorts.

“That’s Marta, Ransom’s new girlfriend.”

“Oh. She’s very pretty.” You comment, taking note of how Ransom looks genuinely happy to see her. He picks her up and swings her around, and she laughs and bats him with her purse before they kiss.

“She’s a gold-digging slut.” Steve says darkly.

“What?”

“You heard me. She has a reputation for being the biggest gold-digger in New York and everyone knows it.” Steve holds you close, as if physically shielding you from getting influenced by Marta, who isn’t even looking at either of you. “Instead of getting a degree like the rest of us, she’s been steadily seducing half the male population in the city, and getting them to buy her whatever she wants.”

“But I thought you preferred it when omegas didn’t get degrees?”

You don’t know where the quip comes from, but you regret it as soon as the words leave your mouth. Steve shoots you a warning look and you quickly bow your head submissively, “I’m sorry.”

“You better be. One more slip-up like that and I’ll spank you in front of everyone,” Steve threatens before continuing, “Omegas have no business getting degrees, but they also have no business acting like gold-digging sluts. Anyways, all of us tried to warn Ransom but he’s a fucking idiot, clearly.”

You look towards the couple once again; Ransom is making Marta a personalised snow-cone, drawing a sloppily-drawn heart out of strawberry syrup on top of the shaved ice. Marta claps excitedly, giving Ransom a kiss on the cheek. They look pretty happy and genuine to you, but Steve probably knows better?

You mull over all this new information, “B-But Steve, you buy me tons of expensive stuff all the time. Do people think I’m a gold-digger?”

Steve presses a bunch of kisses on your neck, holding you tightly against him as if he’s afraid you’ll float away. “No, baby. No one would dare make that assumption about you, because I would kill them. And anyways, you’re too cute and innocent and humble to be a gold-digger. Not like Marta, who is a whore.”

You wrinkle your nose, “Steve, please don’t say that…”

“She is, though. She made Ransom buy her a Birkin bag when he’d only known her two weeks.”

You’re wondering why Steve seems so incensed over a simple bag when suddenly–

“You sure do love to gossip, don’t you, Steve?”

Natasha walks over to the corner of the swimming pool where you and Steve are. She’s wrapped a silky black sarong around her hips, and it looks good with her deep red bikini.

“And you sure do love to eavesdrop, don’t you?” Steve fires back, his grip on you tightening possessively.

Natasha rolls her eyes and looks from Steve to you, “Don’t listen to Steve. Marta’s a great girl, we used to go to the same yoga class a few years ago.”

“Of course, you think she’s great.” Steve remarks, sneering at Nat as if she’s a disease, but the redhead remains unperturbed, shooting him a sweet smile before looking back to you.

“Let’s hang out soon. I can fill you in on all the real gossip, and –”

“She doesn’t want to hang out with you.” Steve answers on your behalf. You wince, because it’s not true at all! You’d love to hang out with Natasha, and she’s always inviting you out, either to shop or grab brunch. But Steve never gives you permission to go, because he claims Natasha is a bad influence. You wish you were brave enough to stand up to Steve but you’re not, so instead you just shoot Natasha an apologetic look, and the redhead smiles understandingly back at you.

“Steve! Come on, we’re playing volleyball and you’re on my team!” Sam calls out from the other side of the pool.  

Steve makes a face before shouting back, “I’m busy with my girlfriend!”

“She can play too.” Bucky walks up with the volleyball under his arm, “She can be on my team, we could use an extra player since we got stuck with Jensen.” He gives you a meaningful stare, his cold blue eyes raking you up and down, making you shrink back into Steve. But the brunette alpha smoothly looks away as soon as Steve glances at him.

“Haha, very funny. Omegas don’t play sports.” Steve gives you a kiss on the cheek and a condescending pat on your bum which you’re happy is underwater so no one sees. His lips brush against your ear, “I’m gonna go play for a while, okay, baby?”

You nod, “That’s alright, Steve. I’ll just stay here.”

Steve looks at you, then at Natasha, then back at you before narrowing his eyes, “Don’t talk to her. Just watch me play, okay?”

“Okay.” You cross your fingers behind your back, hoping he won’t see.

He kisses you some more, claiming it’s a good luck kiss but it quickly turns into a good luck make-out before Bucky drags him away.

You climb out of the pool, regretting it instantly because you feel all wet and exposed. But Natasha hands you a big, fluffy towel, and you gratefully wrap it around yourself before she tugs you over to a couple of deck chairs.

“Steve is so bossy,” Natasha giggles, and you follow her gaze to the other side of the pool. There’s a net set up and Steve is already busy explaining strategies to his team members, before telling them exactly where to stand and what to do.

“Yeah.” You agree softly.

“I bet the only one he really listens to is you, am I right?”

Your eyes widen, “Oh no, Steve doesn’t really… I, uh, I could never tell him what to do.”

Natasha stretches and lays down on her deck chair, “I mean, I tell Thor to load the dishwasher or empty the drier, that kind of stuff.”

You look down to your lap, “Oh, well, Steve says that household chores are an omega’s job.” You pause, your eyes focused on Steve as he slams the volleyball straight at Jensen’s face. Jensen yelps, his glasses flying into the water as Steve laughs and high-fives Sam. You suddenly grow paranoid, wondering if your words will somehow get back to him. “I don’t mind doing the household chores at all, though! Actually, I find it very relaxing.” (This isn’t even a lie).

Natasha nods thoughtfully, “Yeah, I don’t mind it either. But you could definitely get Steve to help you out.”

You smile, not saying anything. You certainly doubted you could make Steve do anything.

The redhead sits up straight, “I’m serious, though! Next time you’re unloading the dishwasher, just be like ‘Oh no, these dishes…they’re so heavy!’ Trust me, watch how he’ll make you sit down and do it all himself. Alphas eat the whole ‘damsel in distress’ thing right up.”

You mull over it; maybe that would work… Steve never ever let you do any heavy-lifting around the house. You weren’t even allowed to take the trash out, and sometimes he’d even take the laundry basket out of your hands if it looked too heavy. “Baby omegas like you shouldn’t be lifting heavy things,” he’d always say.

Relaxing and sitting back, all warm in your fluffy towel, you listen as Natasha gives you more relationship advice. She tells you all the “little things” you can do to control your alpha, like dress up in sexy lingerie and withhold sex until he agrees to your demands. Or keep him on his toes by not answering his texts immediately, and ignoring him so that it drove him crazy. You knew most of these ideas would never work with Steve, but it was nice to listen to her speak anyways, plus it also gave you an interesting insight on her relationship with Thor.

Steve’s team wins the volleyball match, and he comes back to you with a smug smile on his face. Swooping you up in his arms and giving you the biggest kiss ever, till your cheeks are hot and your heart is racing.

“Did you see me?” He asks, kissing you all over your face as if Natasha isn’t a foot away from you two, “Did you see how I scored that last point?”

“Yes,” you lie, because you had dozed off for the past few minutes under the deliciously warm sun and the fluffiness of your towel, “You were really good!”

“Damn right. And did you see how bad Jensen was?”

Steve gives you a detailed play-by-play of the whole game, whilst also simultaneously carrying you off to the hot-tub in the corner of the yard. Natasha waves you goodbye before skipping over to Thor, and you watch her bat him on the shoulder before he throws her into the pool, jumping in after her.

“…and then Bucky rage quit because his team was so shit, and I think he actually left and drove home.” Steve shakes his head, “Classic Bucky. He can’t ever take a loss.”

He gently places you into the hot tub, and you sigh as you sink into the hot, steamy, bubbling water. It’s deep, almost up to your neck when you sit down. But Steve has other plans, hastily pulling you into his lap once he’s settled down as well. In fact, he places you right on top of his hard bulge, which is definitely noticeable underneath his trunks.

“So, is my baby omega gonna give me a reward for winning?” He pinches your ass, a mischievous glint in his eye. His hands settle on your hips, grinding you down against his bulge and smirking when you yelp and grab onto his chest and shoulders.

“Not here!” You gasp, earning another pinch to your ass.

“Really? Is that why you keep grinding your cute little butt on my dick?”

“I’m not!”

“Don’t lie to me, omega.” Steve draws you closer with his big hand on the back of your neck, kissing you roughly, his hands fondling every part of your body. He keeps one hand squarely on your ass, his fingers digging between your ass cheeks and prodding at your puckered hole through the thin material of your bikini. You gasp straight into his mouth, and he just smirks against your lips, not allowing you to break the kiss as his other hand slips up to squeeze your breast. His thumb brushes against your hard nipple, and he tries to pull your bikini top off before you manage to fend him away.

“Not here, Steve, please!” You beg, not knowing how far he’d go. His eyes are almost black with lust, as if he’s horny off of winning the volleyball game and impressing you. And a part of you knew this would happen, that this was inevitable the moment he made you put on this extra revealing bikini in the first place. But you’d hoped he’d have at least dragged you off somewhere private, instead of the hot-tub which was out in the open with everyone still milling around.

“Address me properly, baby omega.” Steve whispers in your ear, his tone dripping with lust. “And you shouldn’t have put on this slutty bikini if you didn’t want me to fuck you in front of everyone. All these guys have been staring at you all day. Now I have to show them all how I own you.”

His fingers play with the string that’s holding your bikini top together, his other hand now tracing shapes on the exposed skin of your butt cheek. He gives it a jiggle, smirking when you clutch him harder, your hands wrapping around his neck in an effort to calm yourself down.

“I think you should take your bikini off. Daddy wants to see your tits.”

You shake your head pleadingly, “No, Steve – I mean daddy – please, I can’t do that!”

He doesn’t even blink, his eyes focused on your cleavage which is practically spilling out of the bikini. He licks his lips, a carnality suddenly taking over his being and he grabs the flimsy cups of your bikini and pulls them downwards, exposing your breasts. You don’t even have time to react before his mouth latches on to one of your nipples, his other hand covering your other breast by squeezing it.

You bite your lip to contain your moan, but Steve moans freely around your nipple as he suckles it. His tongue licks sensually around your hardened peak, making you jolt in his lap. He holds you down firmly, digging his boner up between your ass. He sucks your nipple as if he’s starving, biting at it as if he wants to make you scream, but you stop yourself just in time.

“You’re so fucking sexy, baby.” Steve tells you, “I almost lost concentration a few times during that volleyball game. All I could think about was you looking all cute and sexy, wearing this slutty bikini as if you were begging me to fuck you.”

“Daddy – ah! – can we do this at home please?” You ask, because now you can feel yourself getting turned on. Despite your embarrassment and discomfort, you can feel your pussy clench at his degrading dirty talk.

“No. And stop telling me to stop or else I’ll fuck you on that deck chair, right in the middle of everyone.” He stops suckling on your nipple for a second, pinching it instead as he looks at you thoughtfully, “Actually, no. Keep telling me to stop because I like it when you do that. Reminds me how weak and babyish you are.” He licks a stripe up the side of your face before kissing your cheek sloppily, “Beg me again, say: ‘daddy, please stop.’”

“Daddy, please stop!” You moan pitifully, your brain wanting him to stop but your body not quite agreeing as you feel your hips involuntarily jut against him. And you’re just about to lose control, just about to give in to him because he feels so good and he smells so enticing and he’s your daddy so he’s in charge and the omega inside you is purring and wanting to do exactly what he orders you to, and then–

“Mind if we join you guys?”

Ransom plops into the hot tub, with Marta hot on his heels. Your eyes widen, and Steve huffs in annoyance before pushing your bikini back up to cover your breasts. The tub is bigger than most, and big enough that Ransom and Marta are able to sit a few feet away from you and Steve. They’re too busy talking to notice anything, but Steve double-knots your bikini strings just in case, glaring daggers at the couple sitting across from you.

You try to slip off Steve’s lap after that, but he holds you in place and shoots you a warning look. So you sit there, your back against Steve’s chest and his hard dick poking angrily against your butt.

“I was just telling Marta how similar you and I are, Steve.” Ransom pipes up.

“Oh yeah? How so?” Steve asks sardonically. You can tell he’s pissed off at being interrupted, which is never a good sign. You remember once he was about to fuck you in the locker room before the coach had called him. Steve had been seething, and with all that pent-up sexual frustration, you knew you were in for it once he was done. Right now was no different.

Ransom sits back, his arm around Marta who sips coolly on a frozen strawberry daquiri. You hadn’t really paid attention to it, but there was also an open bar in the corner of the backyard, with the alphas taking turns making drinks. Thankfully, Steve hadn’t drank tonight – otherwise he’d have been ten times hornier than he was now.

“We’re both wifed up and in serious relationships.” Ransom draws Marta close, and she nuzzles her nose against his neck. “And you know what? Now I get what all the hype is about. Marta and I have been talking about marking each other up too, and –”

Ransom drones on and on, and you nod politely. Steve, on the other hand, stiffens underneath you. You can tell he’s resisting the urge to roll his eyes. What you didn’t count on is his dick driving up into you at that exact moment. You almost gasp out loud before covering it up by pretending to clear your throat. His hands rub up and down your thighs, and you’re so happy this is all happening under the water otherwise you’d never be able to live it down.

Marta excuses herself to get another drink, Ransom’s eyes following her as she leaves, a lovesick look on his face.

“Bro, you’re pathetic.” Steve sneers, and all the while his hands are slipping up till he cups your core through your bikini bottoms, making your breath hitch. “You’ve only been seeing her for two weeks.”

“So?”

“So, you need to chill the fuck out.”

Steve pushes your bikini bottoms to the side, exposing your bare core to the hot water. Fuck. His thick fingers probe and explore your slick folds, and you cannot believe what he’s doing because Ransom is only a few feet away from you guys. And Steve’s casually giving out advice as if he isn’t about to finger you under the water this very second!

Ransom sighs, “I know, but she isn’t just some random hookup, okay? I actually have feelings for her.”

You’re barely able to focus on the two alphas’ conversation, your face and neck heating up as you squirm on Steve’s lap. A part of you feels so degraded, sitting on your alpha’s lap as if you’re nothing more than a decorative toy for him to play with while he talks to his friend. It’s what he’s doing right now, his pointer finger circling your clit casually while he holds you close in his lap.

“If you want to be the dumbass who gets played by an omega, then suit yourself, bro.” Steve shrugs, focusing his attention back on you. Ransom looks torn, and you secretly hope he doesn’t take Steve’s advice too seriously. You don’t know much about gold-diggers or relationships in general, but Ransom and Marta look genuine from what you’ve seen. Not that you have time to dwell over their situation, because Steve chooses that exact moment to slip two fingers inside you.

“Oh, oh fu-” You cry out.

Ransom frowns, “You okay?”

“Don’t talk to my girl!” Steve warns.

“Ex-Excuse me.” You squeak, managing to get up off of Steve’s lap while he’s momentarily distracted. You step out of the hot tub before he can stop you, quickly wrapping yourself in your fluffy towel. “Bathroom.” You explain, before speed-walking over to the pool-house, inwardly praying you don’t slip and embarrass yourself in your hasty exit.

Heart drumming, you safely make it to the pool house and make a beeline for the bathroom. You’ve only just managed to catch your breath when the door opens and closes behind you. You barely have time to register what’s happening before Steve pushes you forward, bending you over the marble sink and giving you four hard slaps to the ass in quick succession.

“Bad girl.” Steve tuts, “What got into you, huh? Running away from daddy like that?”

“I’m sorry, I just… Steve it would’ve been so inappropriate to do that in front of everyone!”

“What’s inappropriate is slutty baby omegas like you wearing sexy bikinis to distract me. You forced my hand, baby.” He swiftly rips your bikini bottoms apart, squeezing your ass cheeks with both his hands, till you know his handprints will be imprinted on your skin. “Well, we’re all alone now, omega. There’s nowhere for you to run.”

He presses his hard dick against your wet folds, and you sigh involuntarily, rutting back against him. In the privacy of this bathroom, you can finally relax.

“I’m gonna fuck you on every inch of every surface inside this bathroom,” Steve promises darkly in your ear, sucking and biting at your earlobe before pressing a kiss to the nape of your neck, “and then I’m gonna drag you outside and fuck you against the glass doors of this pool house. You got that, omega?”

“Y-Yes, daddy.”

THE END. I know i know i know that ended super abruptly, but trust me when i tell you i could’ve gone on and on and ON and this was just meant to be a small drabble!!! PLEASE tell me what you think and reblog pls!!! ily ily ily and this was really random and idek if it’s any good but please just let me know what you think! ALSO YES, steve is such a menace in this and idk if this is canon compliant but it’s a poyt drabble so here we goooo!!! LEMME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK OK BYE

[afterglowkatie]

pair of pests: grow up ˏˋ°•*⁀ kyra x catley!reader, steph x catley!reader, short fic/blurb

kyra cooney-cross x reader | steph catley x reader (sisters) | 1.6k | based off of this ask

‘God will you ever grow up? All you do is annoy and irritate everyone every single day,’ You didn’t think you’d pushed it too far, you were quite good with knowing where the limits were when you were having fun and messing around with your teammates. Maybe you had been pushing Steph a bit too much lately, but you really hadn’t done anything out of the ordinary. Nothing that would have your sister yelling at you like this in front of everyone, ‘I’ve honestly had enough of you,’ 

Your heart dropped and your cheeks heated up with embarrassment. Steph had never yelled at you like this, even when you were growing up, sure you’d have arguments and fights as kids but nothing was ever that serious. But right now you’d never seen her so serious and like she meant every single word that came out of her mouth. 

It probably wouldn’t have made you feel as bad if it hadn't been in front of your teammates and in the middle of training. You really didn’t mean to upset your sister as much as you apparently did. What you forgot to take into account was all the added stress your sister had leading up to the olympics post wsl season, being the captain for your country. 

Your demeanour instantly changed for the rest of the day. Keeping more to yourself and making sure to keep your distance from Steph as much as you could. As soon as training was over you grabbed your stuff as quick as you could and grabbed Kyra’s hand dragging her out of there before anyone else could say anything. 

‘Please just take me anywhere but Steph’s,’ You pleaded with Kyra, getting into her car. Kyra didn’t say anything during the trip back to hers, but neither did you. Without having to say anything Kyra always knew what you needed. Also she saw what happened between you and Steph, but you’re sisters so she knew that it would probably blow over before anyone even remembers that it happened. That’s how siblings are.

‘You know, I don’t think Steph really meant what she said,’ You were laying together in Kyra’s bed, you were absentmindedly drawing shapes on her exposed stomach getting lost in your thoughts. Kyra knew you were thinking about earlier, you had left before either you or Steph could talk to each other and make things right again.

Kyra’s voice and the hand running through your hair gently, brought you back to reality, ‘I don’t know Ky,’ You let out the breath you didn’t realise you were holding, ‘It was different, she really looked like she meant it. Maybe I should listen to her and grow up,’ Kyra hated the defeated look you had on your face.

‘Hey, no, don’t listen to Steph. You are perfect the way you are. She’s probably just having a bad day and if she takes it out on you then that’s on her and nothing to do with you,’ You smiled, laughing a little, no matter what Kyra always had your back. It was amusing at times though.

‘I love that you’ll always have my side no matter what,’ You were definitely feeling a bit better than you were before, though that didn’t mean you were heading home anytime soon.

On the other hand, Steph was pacing around her apartment feeling incredibly guilty for lashing out at you like she did. All she could see when she thought of you was the way your face dropped when she yelled at you. Steph knew that she shouldn’t have taken out her stress on you, she’d been holding it all in for a while now and you’d just managed to be the tipping point making her burst. Though it was never an excuse for yelling at you, in front of everyone as well.

‘You need to calm down. Tiny will be fine, she’s probably just with Kyra,’ Beth tried to reason with Steph, trying to get her to stop worrying over you. Having been close with Steph for a few years means having seen the two of you have disagreements and little fights here and there. So she knew the two of you would be fine.

‘I still shouldn’t have yelled at her, she didn’t deserve it,’ Some would playfully disagree and say it might be good for you and Kyra to get in trouble from time to time just to keep the two of you in line. 

‘Just talk to her tomorrow, it’ll be fine,’ 

Steph would’ve felt like it could be fine if you hadn’t spent that next day as well doing your best to avoid her. It was match day so there wasn’t really a whole lot of time before the match where she could talk to you. But even if there was, it didn’t help that you did your best to be busy or as far away from Steph as you possibly could be.

You figured it was for the best, if you really had annoyed Steph as much as it seemed like you did, then you figured you’d give her some space. Even with reassurance from Kyra, Viv, Beth and Caitlin and so many others, it really didn’t help you all that much. You were worrying over Steph and whether you really were too annoying and Steph was worrying about you even more that you were purposefully avoiding her.

It didn’t feel the same, Steph had grown used to you and Kyra’s pre match antics, it had grown part of Steph’s match day routine even if she hadn’t realised it til now. You were starting and grateful that Steph was being rested and only used if they really needed to sub towards the end of the match. That meant you didn’t have to face her in the tunnel while waiting to walk out. 

But your head really wasn’t in the game. It wasn’t your worst game since being at Arsenal but it definitely wasn’t your best, knowing you definitely wouldn’t be starting next time or any time soon. Wanting nothing more than to get out of there as soon as you could after the match. 

Just like the day before, as soon as you could leave you’d dragged Kyra along with you. Luckily it was a home match so you were able to do that, opting to have a shower once you got back to Kyra’s apartment. 

‘I really think you should go back to Steph’s tonight,’ Kyra’s arms wrapped around your waist while you leaned your head back against her shoulder. You were enjoying relaxing against your girlfriend underneath the warmth of the water running over the top of you both. 

‘You sick of me, huh?’ Smiling playfully you turned around in Kyra’s embrace so you could look at her.

‘I mean, I could never get sick of you baby, but I think you and Steph both need to talk this out,’ Kyra was right but you really didn’t want to admit that to her. Nodding your head you made the promise to go back to the apartment tonight, just wanting to drop the subject and enjoy Kyra’s company a little bit longer before facing Steph.

You’d played your cards right and managed to coerce Kyra into falling asleep with you while watching a movie. Which led to you now being dropped back at Steph’s apartment at almost midnight. Unlocking the door, you tried your best to be quiet, figuring that Steph would be asleep by now. 

Getting tackled by Calvin as soon as you walked in, you noticed all the lights were still on in the apartment. Normally if Steph went to bed before you’d gotten back home then she would leave just the hallway light on. So you knew Steph was still up. You tried to sneak in, down the hallway and into your room, but it was hard when you had a dog excited for your return.

‘Hey, can we talk?’ You tensed a little hearing Steph’s voice, it was quieter than usual most likely due to the fact it was the middle of the night. You were nervous until you actually looked at Steph, you were afraid of a lecture but with how she was looking at you, you knew that she wasn’t about to give you one.

Nodding your head you went to sit next to her on the couch, Calvin of course having to jump up and nuzzle in between the two of you, ‘I’m really sorry, I know I shouldn’t have yelled at you. I’ve been a bit more stressed with the olympics almost here but I really shouldn’t have taken it out on you,’ Steph was genuine in her apology, it made you feel better but at the same time a little bad and you felt a little bit guilty. You were her sister and you lived with Steph but you didn’t notice she was having a harder time than usual lately.

‘I’m sorry too Stephy. I should’ve realised you would be dealing with things causing you more stress than you usually would. If it helps, you have a whole team of people you can lean on if you need to. We’ll all always help you and be there for you. And I’ll not annoy you until after the olympics,’ Gently nudging Calvin off the couch and out of your way, you moved closer to Steph, cuddling into her.

‘To be honest, I kind of missed your annoying self today before the match,’ Steph knew she was going to regret telling you that. 

You looked up at Steph, she rolled her eyes already seeing that cheeky grin and that twinkle in your eye that you get when you’re about to be a menace to her, ‘Aw I knew you secretly loved it Stephy,’ 

[stall1iion]

champions love - five

Liked by f1wags, y/nupdates, maxverstappen1, y/nofficial, redbullracing and many others

f1 and there is our ice queen, arriving in fashion to her first race of the season in Spielberg! 🇦🇹 A new fashion queen on the grid perhaps? 👀

#F1 #Formula1 #AustrianGP

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⤷username44 to be fairrrrrr that man is MAX VERSTAPPEN and her boyfriend so….

username8 of course she’d be more focused on an outfit then supporting max

⤷username7 relax?? She’s literally wearing a flowy shirt and some jeans, just because she got dressed doesn’t mean she’s not there to support

username37 ice queen? Ice flop maybe

⤷username35 oh yes, a two time olympic champion, truly embarrassing of her 🙄

username3 great another american ruining the sport

⤷username77 surprised she isn’t fat like all the others or is her shirt hiding that?

⤷username98 I was trying to ignore your blatant xenophobia and sexism but like I genuinely can’t, one: her and logan aren’t ruining the sport at all and two not all americans are fat, you see fast food and automatically assume and it’s crazy when one good click on the comment above and you’d see she’s an olympic figure skater and better than you’d ever hope to be

⤷username35 let them hate, they find every little thing to hate on because they can’t be them. See how many hoops they have to jump through to say anything offensive

liked by bsf1, bsf2, maxverstappen1 and many others

y/n.jpg time to see my first ever vroom vroom race in person but at least I have my newest pookie with me 💗

tagged: lilymhe

view all comments

bsf1 pookie we miss you 😢

⤷y/n.jpg i miss you too 😢it’s time for me to watch men go vroom vroom in fast cars

bsf2 why didn’t you take us??? 😭😭

⤷y/n.jpg because you had work pookie?? 😞

⤷bsf2 oh…yeah….like i wouldn’t quit to go to a race 😞😢

⤷y/n.jpg yeah no…keep that bag, I promise i’ll take yall when you guys are free ♥️

alexalbon omg is that where my girlfriend went???

⤷y/n.jpg sorry she’s my girlfriend now 🫶

⤷lilymhe I know where home is 🫶

⤷alexalbon UMM???

maxverstappen1 was the meme necessary?

⤷y/n.jpg yes it was, my vibe was incomplete without it

⤷y/n.jpg expect more btw 😋

⤷maxverstappen1 oh god 😐

⤷y/n.jpg good luck on your race ☺️

liked by landonorris, bsf1, bsf2, and many others

y/n.jpg …so that was a tough loss um…how do you feel after that?

view all comments

landonorris how the fuck you think I feel?

⤷y/n.jpg I have a gift for you

⤷landonorris stop I’m supposed to be mad rn

⤷y/n.jpg what he say fuck me for? 😟😔

username2 😭wtf? why is she so unserious

bsf1 how was the race in person?

⤷y/n.jpg loud as fuck 😭

⤷y/n.jpg it was like going to a hotter, louder monster truck show

charles_leclerc the meme?

⤷y/n.jpg your very memeable charlie, it’s a talent really and one that will be showcased on my page way more often

⤷username99 CHARLIE??

lilymhe we still on for drinks?

⤷y/n.jpg of course

⤷username5 max didn’t win and literally caused Lando to crash, what does you need to get drinks for?

⤷y/n.jpg see I don’t know if you know but it’s called, I’m my own grown ass person who can get drinks whenever I want

username4 not her making fun of Lando after her boyfriend ruined his race

⤷username7 *liked by author*

what are you talking about? Lando quite literally responded and he’s obviously not mad at her nor is she making fun of him

username9 both were scrapping and made mistakes. We’ll get em next week!

username23 just wait till next weekend, those guys are going to boo every chance they get, don’t be discouraged!

⤷username44 oh you must’ve missed it but they already started making comments towards her, apparently a fan of hers asked for a autograph and some butthurt fans called her all kinds of names

⤷username23 oh wow, yeah I would’ve never guessed from this post

⤷username1 y/n is not new to getting hate, after her first championship some commentators were calling her a possible “one hit wonder” and fans were saying her coach was better off coaching others

Y/N L/N Talks All Things Sport-Like, Relationships And Careers

The Tonight Show Starring Jimmy Fallon 163,713 likes

View transcript

“Our next guest is an expert on skating and ice, her olympic career on the rise, please welcome Y/N L/N!”

[Inserts Y/N with cheers] “Welcome to the show! Uh you look fantastic, thank you so much for being here”

“Thank you for inviting me, Jimmy! And for the food!”

“No problem! Figured it was the least I could do after the flight here, um…so y/n your career has always been eventful but it's currently exploding right now and everyone’s talking about Y/N L/N and so I wanted to show you this photo and tell me if you remember how growing up in figure skating was” [shows a picture of younger y/n in her first competition]

“Oh….this was when I was 12, I had just started competing after begging my mother to sign me up for a skating academy for like a whole year [laughter]”

“Did you win this competition?”

“No [laughs] I got like fourth place and was convinced I wasn’t made out to be a skater and went home that night and cried the most i’ve ever cried I think”

“Wow, here’s you like what..six competitions later and look you’ve got a gold medal” {shows a different picture of her on the podium with a bright smile] [insert cheers and laughter] “I’m so happy for you, what did it feel like?”

“Um, well it felt like I was right all along, that my mom and coach were right and it just gave me a huge boost in confidence after that”

“And- I mean- look at you now two time olympic champion back to back, that is amazing- absolutely amazing. Uh- a little birdie told me that when you first signed with Team USA- um you were in a Chick-Fil-A drive thru when you got the call”

[laughter] “Um..yeah! I was actually at work- um, i worked in a chick-fil-a like ten minutes down the street from my house and I got the call from the recruiter and I was like “oh god, I can’t be on my phone at work but I have to take this…screw it” and i picked up the phone and if you ever watched the draft for the nba then it’s kind of like that, I remember I squealed and dropped to the floor as I accepted and I just could not shut up about it for the rest of the day”

[laughter] “yeah well that must’ve been an amazing feeling! To know your accomplishments have been recognized and that you were about to go to the big leagues”

“Oh yeah, I was riding on that high for like a week, it felt like- yeah- i did it. I mean, I felt like I kind of made it already when I won the rest of my competitions growing up but that call was the little cherry on top, you know? I was 18 years old at the time of the phone call, just out of high school but then it was like a massive dump where I was unsure of myself and if I really was that good. Hate really got to my heart during that time, I had already reviewed a large amount of misogyny that I had almost given up too many times to count”

“I had to push myself and remember why I was there, first and foremost my passion for the ice, and I wasn’t going to toss away my dream due to bigoted men around me. They wanted to see me fail and I wasn’t going to let them succeed”

“Beautifully said. I know recently a few fans have reacted poorly after the results of the most recent grand prix in Austria..how do you feel about that?”

“Well um, I get that they're mad, you know? No one wants to see a driver forced out of a race following a collision but again, I had nothing to do with that, you know? [laughter] Um..just because I’m dating Max does not give them that excuse but again, there will always be haters and so I do what I do best and ignore them the best I can; I know not everyone can respond maturely and things can be said in the heat of the moment so I try not to hold it against them”

“Right, well what are your plans for the future? Is another championship in the cards? Another career even? Maybe a more serious relationship outcome with Max?”

[laughter] “Um well figure skating is definitely the dream, you know, a lot of people will say I’m too old to be on the rink but frankly, there is no maximum age to figure skating, i’ll retire of course when I’m ready but um, that’s no time soon [laughter] um growing up I was really into psychology. Obviously as an athlete I know the importance of mental health and how it can truly affect your performance and career but I was obsessed growing up, probably from all the late night reruns of crime shows like law and order and 48 hours {laughter}’

“and um I don’t know about the last one, we haven’t really talked about anything like that, I think we both enjoy our lives together but i wouldn’t be opposed to any sort of change”

“Great! Well um, Max if your watching, there’s your sign right there [laughter] um…I googled you today to see what pops up and um..”

“Did you not know who I was beforehand?”

“No [laughter] no- i can do..I know all your poses and I can do it”

“Oh can you?”

“I can do it, no- no I just wanted to see what pops up and it says did you mean: ice queen or ice princess and I think that’s kind of fun, tell us about that”

“Um, I definitely didn’t do that- I guess someone at google loves me or something [laughter] but the nicknames ice queen or princess is from the 2018 Olympics when I won my first championship and that day I was wearing a white and silver costume that I was absolutely shivering in [laughter] but um- yeah, the judges and everyone liked it so much and I think the name came from one the judge's comments on my performance actually and everyone just ran with it and i liked it so much that I kept it [laughter]”

“Can I just tell everyone some of the stats you have right now, because wow. You are currently the highest paid figure skater at a net worth of 90 Million dollars. You are a 5 time US champion from 2011 to 2016 and 6 time World Champion from 2017 and 2023, you have countless endorsements with brands such as Disney, McDonald’s, Starbucks, Visa, Campbell’s Chevrolet, Coca-Cola, Kraft, and United Airlines. You’ve been given the James E. Sullivan Award for ‘Best Amateur Athlete, U.S. Olympic Committee ‘Sportswoman of the Year’, Readers’ Choice ‘Figure Skater of the Year’, Teen Choice Award and ‘Cosmogirl of the Year’” [takes in a deep breath] “phew…that was a lot to read [laughter] but yeah, that is all you’ve done since you were 12, that’s amazing!”

“It sounds so much grander and shocking when you read it all out like that! [laughter]”

“Yes well it was lovely speaking to you and wearing out my vocal cards reading all that [laughter] this is Y/N L/N, everybody! [cheers and applause] Thank you for coming! Stay tuned for our next guest after the break!”

→ Face claims: (completely forgot to do these but we have: Lori Harvey and Zendaya) 

→ y/n and lily left the grid while waiting for the race to start to get food (she wanted authentic local food)

→ in the interview y/n did shade both lando fans and lando himself 

Author's note!

Hey guys! I worked hard with this one lol! Could not figure out how I wanted to do the interview and just decided to type it as if it was like a little youtube clip of the show so the brackets are like youtube captions. I wanted to wait until after Austria since I finally got the story aligned with recent events (obviously a fictional version of them). Plz don’t send any hate for the shade I threw in here, I love Lando and in fact do have his merch but his response to today’s race was slightly immature and dare I say whiney, plus i did steal some actual comments from instagram posts under red bull so :/ also had to include the weird thing europeans do where they hate on americans for seemingly no reason? Like I've gone to Europe and the hate I get is actually mind boggling. ANYWAYS! Hope you enjoy this chapter, maybe put in some request for what you’d like to see in the next because i have NO IDEA. 

Taglist: @boiohboii @ale-522 @ietss @theseerbetweenus @jaxx-7 @sainzluvrr @the-untamed-soul @ashy-kit @hc-dutch @nichmeddar @delululeclerc @sweate-r-weathe-r @dhanihamidi @tellybearryyyy @luvsforme @samantha-chicago @theblueblub

༉‧₊˚  CHAMPIONS LOVE ༉‧₊˚

⤷ Following the messy breakup between Max Verstappen and Kelly Piquet, Max’s manager comes up with a solution to divert the attention – a fake relationship. His new girlfriend? Two time olympic gold medalist figure skater, y/n for the USA team. Easy? Well…

[povlnfour]

ੈ✩‧₊˚ PADDOCK TO PADDOCK (LN) PART 5

series masterlist | prev part | next part

lando norris x fem!horse rider!reader

yourusername just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by landonorris, lilymhe and 192,306 others

yourusername 🇬🇧⏭️🇸🇬

👤 tagged landonorris

view all 10,093 comments

user3 bestie is travelling the world a lot with him huh

user5 and they still deny they’re dating

landonorris 🧡

liked by yourusername

texts with lily ੈ✩‧₊˚

lando.jpg just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by danielricciardo and 90,361 others

lando.jpg exploring singapore

view all 3,498 comments

user4 WHAT THE FUCK MISS Y/N. THAT IS ILLEGAL

user5 so glad i’m not the only one freaking out over that secOND PHOTO

user7 SHE. SHES. MY GOD.

user9 does she not have the olympics or something to train for🙄

daniel.jpg is this why you’ve been hiding from me

yourusername ur not the favourite anymore

mclaren posted stories ੈ✩‧₊˚

mclaren just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by scuderiaferrari, your username and 120,417 others

mclaren P2 IN SINGAPORE AND CARLANDO PODIUM?! WHAT A RACE!

👤 tagged landonorris, carlossainz55, scuderiaferrari

view all 10,506 comments

user5 CARLANDOOOO😭😭😭😭

user2 TEARS IN MY EYES

user7 FOREVER OUR MCLAREN BOYS (oscar we love u as well)

yourusername someone raced well huh

mclaren we heard it had something to do with a certain incentive👀

user6 whAT IS GOING ON

twitter reacts ੈ✩‧₊˚

landonorris just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by carlossainz55, yourusername and 250,710 others

landonorris an insane weekend. and this time i took away two trophies🧡

👤tagged carlossainz55, yourusername

view all 54,200 comments

user3 huh

user7 i am. is this confirmation? i don’t understand

yourusername baby u are so cute but the caption makes me seem like a trophy wife😭

user5 SO THEY. THEY ARE ?????

user8 CARLANDO PODIUM AND Y/NANDO DATING??? WHAT IS HAPPENING TODAY

yourusername just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by landonorris, lilymhe and 234,109 others

yourusername told him if he got podium i’d be his girlfriend. guess i’m a pretty proud girlfriend right about now🧡

👤 tagged landonorris

view all 37,008 comments

user5 OH MY GOD THAT WAS THE INCENTIVE

user1 ITS HAPPENING EVERYONE STAY CALM

lilymhe ‘i don’t have time for a relationship’ - you in my messages a month ago

yourusername LEAVE ME ALONE SHDJJSJS

landonorris 🫣

user13 going to cry there’s a new mom and dad on the grid!

alex_albon so i’ve been forgotten

oscarpiastri @/landonorris you can stop pining in my dms now

landonorris PLEASE SHUT UP

yourusername IM OMW TO UR HOTEL ROOM SHOW ME RN.

landonorris made me wait long enough but you’re worth a thousand years of waiting

user7 oh he’s WHIPPED

lando.jpg just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by yourusername, flo_norris_showjumping and 108,333 others

lando.jpg you’ve been my favourite view for a while, but i’m glad i get to share it now. let’s go get you a medal baby🧡

view all 10,926 comments

user9 🙄

user3 HOPE UR CRYING RN

user6 LOLLLLL

user2 y’all are so sickeningly sweet and i love it

flo_norris_showjumping glad you got your shit together bro🩷

user7 MY FAVES ANDBWHXJSJSJ

user1 crying. sobbing. shaking. tears are flowing

yourusername 🩷 i adore you so bad

daniel.jpg you’re still a loser but i’m happy for you

taglist: @idkiwantchocolatee @vellicora @alessioayla @bborra @crimeshowjunkie @minkyungseokie @paolexsstuff @celestialpato @champagnelovers101

a/n: i know it seems like the end but it’s NOT i have a little more planned so hold on <<33 just some soppy relationship stuff really

taglist found here

- giselle xx

[ladykailitha]

Icarus Part 18

Hey, guys! I'm back!!! I had a great and very productive hiatus, the results of which can be found here.

But tl;dr is that this story is complete, so it will be regularly updated on Sunday until it's done. Then I will release the story that started this all "The Rise of The Fallen" in two parts, also on Sundays. Which will take us all the to December, if you can believe it.

I'm still working on the other stories and at least The Hellfire Exotic Club (stripper), The Caged Bird Still Sings (sugar!baby), and Of Butterflies and Backstrokes (Olympic swimmer) are all going to be fairly long so that should be exciting. Then I'll be working on the fun little game show story now called "A Love Connection". Which won't come out until one of the others ends. Sorry. But WIP Wednesday will show you teases of it until then.

I recommend rereading the previous chapter to refresh your memory and away we go!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17

~

Steve was riding on the best high. Their next song was “Kiss the Boys/Kiss the Girls”. The song was about finding love in whatever form that took. With a full verse on non-binary folks, despite the title. There was nothing in the world that could compare to crowds screaming your name. It didn’t even matter that the name they were screaming wasn’t Steve, it was Abbadon.

He stumbled into the green room that had all their stuff in it. Corroded Coffin had taken the stage and him and his boys were relaxing with their masks off, Hopper at the door.

“I’ve never been so nervous in my life!” Shane said after downing an entire water bottle. “That crowd was massive! And diverse! Usually we just get college aged kids but there were literal kids out there and old time rockers too.”

“Shit, yeah,” Spence said, pushing his hood off his head to splash a little water on his head. He didn’t have a spotlight on him but wearing all black still made for a hot set.

Shane laid down on the floor, sprawled out spread eagle. “Is this is what real fame is like?”

Steve slid off the chair he was sitting in, to sit next to him. “God, I have such mixed feelings about that if it is. Because the energy was off the charts and I’m pretty sure I sung my heart out...”

“But you aren’t sure you keep up with it for the whole tour?” Simon asked quietly.

Steve threw his head back to rest on the seat of the chair. “Yeah. I don’t want to burn out before I turn thirty, you know?”

“You should talk to Eddie about what they do not to burn out,” Spence suggested. “Because they’ve been doing this for ten years and longer tours than this.”

Steve hummed his agreement.

Suddenly there was a knock on the door. “Celeste, incoming,” Hopper muttered, before opening the door.

Anyone in view of the door, put their mask over their face and then off again when the door closed behind their manager.

“Good job, guys,” Robin said cheerily and sat down on the floor between Shane and Steve. “I just got off the phone with Vickie and she says social media is going batshit insane about the song and Steve’s intro. And it’s good. Like really good. There are some assholes, but it seems that even the media and music critics are calling it the next gay anthem.”

“What are they saying?” Simon asked, sitting up on the sofa and scooting to the edge.

Robin grinned. “This is my favorite one: Heaven is where the assholes are, we always knew all the good people were in hell. Keep up the good work, Abbadon and all of the rest of The Fallen. From Metallica’s official Twitter.”

The room was deathly silent for all of two seconds before they all erupted into gleeful screams. They all jumped on her and started hugging her tightly.

“Get off me! Get off me!” she shrieked. “You’re all sweaty and gross!”

They deliberately smeared themselves all over her before they got off, giggling like children.

“Boys!” she huffed dramatically. “So gross. I swear you lot don’t grow up you just get older.”

Steve leaned over and gave a huge kiss on the cheek. “Probably, but you wouldn’t love us if we were any different.”

Robin swiped her cheek in an exaggerated fashion. “Maybe, but boys are still gross.” She went on to tell them all things that Vickie was sending her about the world’s reaction to the song.

Then after a while she bumped into Steve’s shoulder. “Go on. I know you want go watch some of the show, I’ll hold down the fort here.”

Steve smiled at her and gave her shoulder a squeeze. He got to his feet and put his mask back on. After checking to make sure no one was in view, he knocked on the door for Hopper to let him out.

Once the door closed, Robin let out a long sigh. “I worry about those two.”

“Who?” Shane said, sitting up for the first time. “Steve and Eddie? Why?”

She nodded, pulling her knees up to her chest and tucking her chin between her knees. “Being in the closet is hard. And I know Abbadon has come out, but he’s still in the ‘closet’ as it were about his identity and Eddie and Steve having to hide their relationship on top of Steve hiding who is... let’s just say that great relationships then theirs have crumbled under the pressure.”

The room was silent as they all took that in.

“Are we just doomed from having relationships?” Spence asked. “Are we all destined to be lonely?”

Simon’s lips quivered. “I hate that I have all these women throwing themselves at me but they really don’t care who’s under the mask.”

“I hit up every gay bar in every city we tour in as me,” Shane muttered picking at the skin around his nails, “and I don’t know if it’s worse they don’t know who I am than if I had gone as Astraeus.”

“I’m trying to have a girlfriend,” Spence said bitterly, “but all I can tell her is that I travel for work. And yeah it’s new enough she isn’t asking as what, but how much longer can I dodge that question?”

Robin let out another sigh. “I know, and it’s not as though I can really date either. Are they dating the goofy lesbian Robin, or the sophisticated fashion plate, Celeste? But with Eddie I think Steve has it harder.”

“It’s because Eddie is famous, huh?” Simon asked, sliding off the sofa to sit next to Shane on the floor.

Spence got up and curled up around Shane. Robin inserted herself into the pile and they just cuddled until the show was over.

~

Steve wanted to be on that stage more than anything, just singing with Eddie, happy and free. But he was Abbadon right now and while he might get away with it, Steve didn’t feel comfortable with the not being able to kiss his boyfriend senseless.

He waited until the it’s almost time for the encore before he slipped back into the green room. Everyone else is already changed and gone. It’s just Robin as Celeste waiting for him.

“How did he not have a boyfriend before now?” Steve muttered as he pulled on the khakis and blue polo shirt of his ‘uniform.’

Robin snorted. “For the same reason you went pretty thin on the dating field. He was hung up on a special someone.”

Steve blushed and ducked his head. “I’m assume you think it’s me.” He ran his fingers through his hair, trying to get it lay straight after being hidden under the hood for so long.

Robin got to her feet and leaned down to look him in the eye. “Are you telling me you don’t?”

Steve looked away. Robin gently lifted his chin and then held his face her hands. “Steven Kincade Harrington, you listen to me close. You are worthy of love. You are worthy of care. You are worthy of attention. And Eddie Munson is one hundred percent onboard to give all three. Of course he was waiting for you. Any person with eyes can see how much he loves you. Fuck, Simon bristles every time he’s brought up now because instead him being your protector like it used to be, it’s Eddie.”

Steve stared at her with his mouth wide open. “Simon’s jealous of Eddie?”

Robin laughed and kissed his stupid head.

“Babe,” she said fondly. “Spence and Shane have been beating him off with a stick every time Eddie comes around.”

“But Simon doesn’t protect me,” Steve said tilting his head to the side. “I protect him. He’s so painfully shy outside of the band and he’s always curled up on my lap.”

“Please tell me you aren’t that naive,” she said. “He is always sticking up for you about your writing, about your singing. When it comes to band stuff Simon is the biggest mama bear of them all.”

Steve blinked at her for a moment and then mouthed the word “Oh.”

“You are such a dingus,” she said shaking her head. “But you’re my dingus so that evens it out a bit.”

He pushed her playfully. “I’m going to get out there before people wonder where the missing EMT is.”

He slipped out a different way from when he came in and she watched him go. Steve was brilliant at a lot of things, people included. But he always had a blindspot when it came to when other people caring for him.

She sighed and then made her way out of the green room so that Corroded Coffin could unwind now.

Robin passed Chrissy on the way out.

“Hey,” Chrissy said with a huge smile. “My boys want to go afterwards with your boys, you think they’d be down?”

“Of course they would!” she replied. “As The Fallen or no?”

Chrissy slapped her palm to her forehead. “Shit I forgot. As The Fallen. But they have casual masks to go in right?”

Robin smiled back at her. “It’s fine, of course they have casual masks. I’ll let them know. It’ll have to be much later because they have to be see as normies for a bit before they slip back into The Fallen.”

Chrissy winked and tapped the side of her nose. “I got you.”

Just then all the Corroded Coffin boys came bursting from the stage into the wings, whooping and screaming. They huddled together, arms around each other and counted to twenty.

Once they got to one, Eddie screamed whooped again and all four of them ran back on stage.

Robin blinked at them for a moment. “Didn’t they just have an encore?”

Chrissy threw back her head and laughed. “Depending on the city they can do anywhere from two to five encores.”

“Holy shit!” Robin said in genuine awe. “That’s insane.”

“It’s not even their record,” she said.

Robin’s eyebrows shot up. “There��s no way.”

“Six in Salt Lake City,” she explained. “Just coming off their third album, the one with eight singles. Which was too many in my opinion but apparently a couple radio stations thought there were a really good deep tracks and played. Then it got around, yaddy yadda. You get the drift.”

“But six?” Robin asked a little unsure.

Chrissy nodded. “Salt Lake is crazy for that shit though. I’ve heard bands go there if they want their ego stoked.”

“Any bands avoid it for that reason?” Robin giggled.

“I have no doubt there are,” she said with a hum. “Most of the time bands whine about the lack of boobs and booze when they refuse to go back.”

Robin rolled her eyes. “Men are so gross.”

“Agreed,” she replied with a wink. “Go lesbian power.”

Robin fist bumped her. “I’ve got to go look like a PA schlep for awhile. I’ll text you when they’re free.”

“You’ve got it girlie!” Chrissy said.

~

Eddie was not pleased that they were at a bar. A bar was the last place he wanted Gareth to be right now.

But he insisted he would be fine and seemed for the most part to be sticking to a cherry coke, but Eddie was keeping an eye on him.

Things were actually going well until...

Astraeus let out a yelp of pain.

Abbadon and Azrael were on their feet in an instant, Asmodeus close behind. There was a little action going on so Eddie couldn’t see what happened, but oh boy did he see the aftermath.

Standing behind The Fallen’s bassist was an asshole with his phone up, filming and another guy yanking on Astraeus’ hood.

“Get off of him,” Abbadon hissed. “Or else.”

Abbadon was the shortest of his band, but fuck in that moment, he looked the most intimidating.

The dude with phone scoffed. “Or what? I’m filming you, you can’t do shit.”

Steve let out a huge ear-piercing whistle and yelled, “Security!”

The two dudes’ eyes went wide as they turned to scramble away from their table, but ran into two very meaty looking guys flanking Hopper.

“You two boys going somewhere?” the head of security asked, low and dangerously.

“We weren’t doing anything!” the one dude said. Not the one with the phone, but the one who had pulled on Astraeus’ hood.

“Yeah?” he asked. “And would these boys say the same?”

The asshole with the phone scoffed. “They’re just a bunch of weird, rich assholes, they’d say whatever.”

“And the security cameras won’t show you filming your friend here, yanking on this man’s hoodie?”

The two dudes looked at each in actual fear for the first time.

“And by the way, that’s assault,” Hopper continued to press. “So unless you want to be arrested, you’ll delete that little videos of yours unless you really, really want to broadcast your crime to the internet.”

The guy with the phone had Hopper watch him delete it off his phone.

“Good,” he said, “now these two gentlemen are going to escort out of the building, a building you’ll never be allowed to come back to ever again.”

After Hopper left with the bouncers and the two idiots, Gareth turned to them.

“Shit,” he said, “that was fucking terrifying. Does that happen a lot?”

Abbadon and Azrael exchanged a glance.

“More than it really should,” Azrael said. “It’s why Ellie designed a hoodie that would be harder to yank off. The trade off unfortunately is that hurts like a bitch when it’s pulled.”

“That fucking sucks, man,” Jeff said. “The next round of drinks is on me.”

Eddie nodded, but inside he was screaming. He didn’t know that this was something the band experienced at all. And even if he didn’t know who they were, that would still freak him out. But it was worse knowing it was Steve that they were doing this to.

Abbadon squeezed his hand under the table. It didn’t reassure him, not really, but it was still nice that Steve recognized his turmoil.

The night was a little more subdued after that as the Corroded Coffin boys thought about the implications of what just happened and The Fallen boys because all they wanted was a fun night out and it was ruined.

~

Part 19 Part 20 Part 21

Tag List: CLOSED

1- @mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence

3- @goodolefashionedloverboi @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @irregular-child @blondie1006

4- @yikes-a-bee @bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten

5- @genderless-spoon @y4r3luv @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt

6- @disrespectedgoatman @eyehartart @dawners @thespaceantwhowrites @tinyplanet95

7- @iamthehybrid @croatoan-like-its-hot @papergrenade @cryptid-system @counting-dollars-counting-stars

8- @ravenfrog @w1ll0wtr33 @child-of-cthulhu @kultiras @dreamercec

9- @machete-inventory-manager @useless-nb-bisexual @stripey82 @dotdot-wierdlife @kal-ology

10- @sadisticaltarts @urkadop @chameleonhair @clockworkballerina @garden-of-gay

[octopiys]

Okay I just saw someone’s Olympic x cod au (and it was so cool) so now I’m asking everyone what their Olympic x cod head canons are.

OOOO HI ANON

Okay this is actually really cool

First thought was that Soap and Gaz would be synchronized divers. (I love diving, I did it as a kid but couldn't afford to keep doing it) I think they're built properly to do it, and I think when they win their first gold they'd be over the moon, cheering and shaking each other desperately because they can't believe the news. Yes, they'd be on the same team, as Scotland is a part of the GB team.

I honestly feel like Ghost would do rings acrobatics (I think it's acrobatic gymnastics or artistic gymnastics?) He's got wide enough shoulders, and what he struggles in is his weight class and his height that work against him, but his muscles make up for it. (HAVE YOU SEEN THEIR ARMS AND BACKS??? WILD)

Price is a bit interesting. I'll say he coaches Ghost in rings, because that's what I think he'd do if he wasn't competing. He's also got ties with both the Russian team, and the US team, but one of the Russian coaches dropped the Olympics before Russia was no longer allowed to compete, and is frequently spotted on the sidelines near Coach Price. There were rumors in the early 2000s, when both John and Nikolai were competitors, that they would trade each other's team plans and secrets due to their.... ehem, close companionship.

Alternatively, I think Gaz could be on the cricket team. Idk he probably played it as a kid, and would just end up sword fighting his cousin with the bats, and he's not actually really sure how he got on the team, in all actuality, but he's one of the best by far.

Alternatively, Soap might do volleyball. He just seems like he'd play volleyball. Didn't even realize he qualified for the Olympics until he got back home and saw it on the news: "Local Glasgow teen qualifies for the 2024 Paris Olympics" followed by "Unable to reach for comment". He's in the Olympics quite a few times, one of the youngest qualifying volleyball players in Europe when he first started off.

Alternatively, Ghost might do archery, get famous for splitting his arrows twice in a row one game. He gets made fun of, afterwards, by a mohawked Scot on his team just a few years younger than him, who repeatedly calls him Merida. It... doesn't really help that the stadium fluorescents make his hair look more ginger than usual.

Price and Nikolai do shooting. I feel like Price will be that Turkey guy who gets famous for being wildly comfortable (minimal gear, short sleeve, and kind of bored) during his competition, along with his god-given boonie hat. He's won gold every year since 2004. Nikolai sticks to his own challenge, coming in at a close silver, and ended up taking a break after 2016, when an accident on the range was the likely culprit to the abrupt pause in his career. But, he's still spotted like a celebrity at every Olympic games..... is that a Team GB shirt he's wearing?

I feel like Alex would do rowing (men's single scull), and not be terrible at it. He's got one gold and two silvers, before community work he did overseas took his leg. He then keeps it up, if possible, and joins the paralympic rowing (para-rowing) team. He does significantly better in this category, and gets gold 3 paralympics in a row. He still does charity work in the middle east with his wife,

Farah, who either does fencing, or boxing. I can't decide. She would be incredibly powerful in fencing, deadly accurate, and makes Alex thank God that she doesn't have actual access to swords. Her rounds are extremely fast, but she's amazingly skilled, having been placed on the team when she was just fourteen.

Roach would do water polo, or maybe rings with Ghost. That's how they meet each other, and theres no malice in their relationship at all. The media loves it, especially after his wipeout in 2016 because there was an unforseen obstacle (bug) on his ring, thus giving him the nickname Roach.

Rodolfo would be a gymnast too, either pommel horse or parallel bars. He's one of the tallest competitors in that category, at a shocking 5'8 (173cm) and is beloved by every Olympic fan in Mexico. (his job is pommel horse. his job is parallel bar)

Alejandro would also do gymnastics, but he'd probably do pommel horse or the horizontal bar. He's known for his fiery attitude, once making world news for almost fucking up an American competitor from Texas when he made a few comments after Rodolfo suffered a bad case of the twisties two seasons ago.

Graves is a newer competitor, the same one from Texas. He's not as well known, been around since the last Olympics, but he's got an interesting floor routine that will earn him a gold this year. However, he doesn't place in the all around competition, just falling short of the Mexican team, and one guy from GB. Better luck next year, Phillip.

[bokutosmochi]

EDITS ♡ MIYA ATSUMU

miya atsumu x gn!reader

ingredients? free publicity for the team plus you, his darling partner being petty? you can bet that atsumu miya's in!

what's it? mostly humor, but also some fluff

allergen warning/s? a suggestive moment, a fluffy moment

sugar level? 3.1k

regulars? N/A but taglist is open! comment, send an ask, or a dm to join

parlor's note? i'd like to start this by saying i have nothing against the type of people i am going to be mentioning in this fic. i am one of those people. i just thought the gist of this fic would be a nice fun time.

inspired by me watching nishida during the vnl, watching edits, and of course, the sweetest anon.

bon appetit

the window's open, the curtains pulled apart, letting the ohasuhigashi breeze chill in your bedroom.

where the wind touched atsumu's hair, it danced like the most pristine gold silk.

the muscles in his back rippled as he moved, and as it rippled, it sang a siren's song calling out for you to touch it, for you to graze gentle fingertips along the smooth planes of it and kiss the moles you've kissed so many times before.

his bicep, looking as though molded by the gods, flexed as he stretched one arm across his shoulder, repeating the movement for the other arm. the lighting did it favors, highlighting the contours of it, the very same ones atsumu worked so hard on achieving. sufice to say, his time busying himself at the gym paid off.

and his thighs, his muscular thighs, the subject of so many thirst tweets he hilariously had to read out for buzzfeed as a part of msby's promotional stunt for their upcoming bout with ejp raijin.

oh, the way his head grew after that video. for the next few days, gone was the cute, whiny atsumu you called your boyfriend. you wished he gave you the opportunity to say farewell before cocky, borderline cringey boyfriend atsumu made his appearance. you can't really say you minded it that much though. as his loving, supportive partner, you knew how much time and effort he gave in order to gain quads like that, so it was nice to see it pay off, for people to acknowledge his hard work. and besides-

"hey, baby" his raspy morning voice unfortunately interrupted your ogling. as quick as lightning, your eyes moved from travelling down his bare godlike body to meeting his eyes through the mirror. he didn't look away.

-it wasn't like you didn't help with stroking his ego every now and again.

fuck, it was so hard not to do so, though. especially during times like these where he's standing in between the bed you laid in and the vanity. self assured about his looks as ever, he licked his lips, maintaining eye contact with you as he leaned over the desk, his hands carrying his weight on those fucking biceps flexing with effort, and winked.

whether he heard the tiny whimper that left your mouth, you'll never know, but at the very least, you know he didn't see how your thighs, covered by a thick warm blanket, rubbed against each other as a result of his ways.

as stated prior, not singing his praises is easier said than done.

"you enjoying the view, baby?"

"very much so." was your answer, but it was accompanied by you rolling your eyes at his antics.

"always knew you had great taste," he sighed, turning around and plopping into your bed, specifically, plopping right on top of you, kicking the offensive (for him because how dare it be between the two of you) blanket right off of you. he was careful, though, so the action is more reminiscent of a weighted blanket being on top of you rather than an olympic athletic crushing your body under his.

spellbound by the man you called your boyfriend, you couldn't help but run your fingers through his hair, marvelling at how soft they feel. the action made him vibrate out a faint hum. "knew it," he started, "'ya can't resist me." sadly, all you could do is roll your eyes.

it was true and the both of you knew it.

"das why you have yer little tiktok of me," he giggled like a school girl when bringing up the tiktok account you have that's dedicated to the setter who currently has his arms wrapped around your figure and snuggling into your chest like a content cat. or perhaps a content fox would be more appropriate for him.

you've always been a fan of fancams, video edits, whatever they're called. after all, what's not to like? they feature a character or person you admire, showing their best moments, and on top of that, there's neat music accompanying the clips. plus, they're short and sweet.

but it wasn't until you started watching atsumu play when you first thought of making said edits yourself.

he was magnetic on the court, possessing the ability to cast a spell on anyone he wished; his teammates, the opposing team, the audience, you. even an amateur would be able to point out how much of an asset he is to the team. and those abilities translate to him and his gorgeous, picture-perfect plays.

so after his game with the adlers, you concocted a list of your favorite atsumu plays which were the clips you used to make your very first edit: the first clip? a few second video from a game during his high school days. it was one against karasuno high school and he just executed a flawless overhand set that was not under normal circumstances. because of the previous plays, he had to squat down really low to do it, an undersand set would have sufficed, but ever the thoughtful setter, he did what was best for his spikers. then that clip transitioned to a more recent one of him doing a similar set, a set for his newest spiker (at the time) hinata.

what followed were the following clips: him running a hand through his sweaty hair, a confident smile on his lips, one of his famous service aces, him preparing to receive kageyama's serve, a bead of sweat running down the side of his face making him grab his jersey to wipe the perspiration off, a spike that blew through ushijima's block, him celebrating a win with his tongue lolled out of his mouth, and finally, his setter dump that got them a win in the fourth set during their olympic game with argentina.

add all those together, along with the song that went i saw her and she hit me like tadow as a cherry on top, then bam! you have yourself a viral edit.

you never would have expected it, but everyone gushed about your little creation. not only did it explode on tiktok, it exploded out of the app too, all the way to twitter, reddit, and instagram. you couldn't be more proud of yourself for such a magnificent first try, and atsumu couldn't be prouder of... himself. "ah please, 'ya never would have been able 'tah make it if i wasn't such a good player." he reasoned with you. it wasn't a total loss on your part, though. he gave you a kiss on the forehead as thanks for your hard work and free publicity.

you received many comments saying they forgot how hot volleyball players are and claiming they'll start watching again, much to your amusement.

"'ya know, i'm kind of surprised ya don't wanna keep me all to yerself," he mumbled, eyes closed, and at this point, half asleep; the reason why the setter missed you raising an eyebrow at him.

"all of the clips i use are stuff people can easily find, tsumu. it's not like i'm slutting you out for the whole world to see."

"mmmm, yer audience says otherwise..."

"about the clips being easy to find or me slutting you out?"

"bouf'" he yawned. "but if ya insist, i guess ya aren't doing 'tha. maybe i'm just that damn irresistible that yer putting regular stuff in and i already have 'tha girlies goin' crazy. and maybe the clips are easy to find." he referenced all the times you complained to him because of the amount of people asking you where each and every piece of your edit was taken from. "if yer as obssessed with me as you are, 'tha is."

you jokingly pushed him off of you, surprisingly moving him an inch or two. "i can be not obssessed if you, miya, if you prefer that. oikawa toru and tobio-chan are out there, y'know?"

that was a low blow and you knew it. "don't 'ya even dare." he reached to carefully pinch your nose. "'nd what's up with you and tobio??? why's he tobio-chan to you??" the whine in his tone was adorable, so much so it made you laugh. "nothing, 'tsumu. just playing with you." you squeezed his cheeks. "why? you jealous?"

"why 'tha hell would i ever be jealous of him? he ain't the best setter in the world, and he ain't the one with the prettiest, smartest, supportivest, meanest partner in the world."

"supportivest isn't a word."

"i hope 'ya were able to pick up meanest."

there was a little pause in the room, a moment where all that's heard was your sychronized breathing before atsumu opened his mouth to talk again.

"seriously though, angel. i don't thank you enough for everything you've done for me. not all of us have partners as supportive as you are." he gazed up at you with honeyed eyes, fingers tracing over your face, your features, your jawline, your cheeks.

"'tsumu, you know i'd move heaven and earth for you."

"'ya come to all of my games when yer job lets ya, if i ask ya about a play i made, ya always remember in what game i did it. and sometimes when it's a play ya really liked, ya even remember what set it happened."

"you're an amazing player, 'tsumu. i'd do anything to help you play at your full potential."

".... even slutting me out to the world wild web as free advertising," his tone became sarcastically thoughtful. "does 'tha seriously not bother 'ya?"

"no, you've never given me a reason to be worried or insecure about our relationship. they can have all that content as long as i can have you," you weren't done talking yet but you hear atsumu murmur an always at your words. "and besides, your sweetest, sexiest moments are ones only i can see..." atsumu's hand went under your shirt to trail his fingers on your bare skin as your brain trailed elsewhere, an idea sparking itself to life.

"oh my god," you said excitedly, not at all the noise he was expecting you to make. despite the goosebumps raising on your skin and dull ache between your thighs, you continued to squeal at him. "i thought of another edit to make."

amusement painted itself on his lips because of the way you were so giddy, because of the way you pried his hands off of you to shake it with happiness. he found himself being happy too, even though he doesn't have a clue what exactly it is you thought of. he was going to change that though, "so, aren't 'ya gonna let me in this little idea of yers?"

"okay so, you know how people who keep asking me where i found edit clips over and over again annoy me a teeny tiny bit?"

"yeah" yeah, as in, yeah he still has no idea where you're going with this.

"what if i made an edit where one of the clips is just a video i take of you here, like, in our private life, a clip they won't find on youtube or tiktok or volleyball tv or something?" you knew he would be on board with the idea. after all, the two of you wouldn't be together for such a long time if you weren't on similar wavelengths, but it's reassuring to hear atsumu's guffaw all the same.

he took your face in his large hands and kissed you on the lips, complete with an obnoxious smack! when he pulled away. "oh my, yer an evil genius, baby. dunno how this'll help with yer problem 'bout all the comments, but i beg ya ta do it."

and with that, you were formulating your plan.

without a shadow of a doubt, the edits that did the best on your account were thirst edits. the ones that focused more on the physical appeal of your boyfriend rather than his skills, and being petty, you wanted this particular edit of yours to do very well so it was decided it was going to be a thirst edit. gathering the clips available to the public was easy enough. you have several playlists on youtube filled with atsumu videos, curated depending on the type of edit that you were going for.

atsumu sad :(

atsumu cute :3

atsumu's greatest plays vol 1

atsumu's greatest plays vol 2

atsumu's greatest plays vol 3

were the playlists you scrolled through until you found the one you're looking for.

atsumu being hawt 🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵 (and yes, he was the one to name that playlist. you thought eleven of those emojis was excessive while he thought it was perfect because "c'mon angelface, eleven's ma jersey number! eleven of those lil thirsty emojis should be a given!")

you landed on the videos considered your favorites as well as videos at the end of the playlist because that's where the ones you haven't used for edits yet was located.

in the end, you ended up with nine clips which you got from youtube, and twenty photos from pinterest (atsumu's public instagram is surprisingly tasteful because of the team's pr team. his private one however is another story) in addition to that, you also already have an audio to use in mind; goodies by ciara, a song you've heard on tiktok that went sexy, independent, down to spend it type that's gettin' his dough, i'm not being too dramatic, that's the way I gotta have it.

now, the only thing that's left is that one clip that has to have the audience wondering where the hell you got it from.

your ever-supportive boyfriend helped you brainstorm since he loved the idea as much as you did, and you guys ended up with a few good ideas;

him wiping sweat off of himself bare chested ("angellll," he whined. "you know damn well i can make it look hot.") with his jersey or a fluffy white towel.

him fixing his hair.

him doing bicep curls while shirtless (while his team does post workout videos of themselves, they're always fully clothed). the next idea being this, but he does push ups instead.

and lastly, a shot of him performing kabedon on the person behind the camera (it'll be a pov shot so the person watching knows what it would look like if the atsumu miya performed kabedon on them).

although some, such as him fresh out of the shower with only a towel wrapped around his waist or him getting on top of you (similar to the kabedon idea. you were to be filming him getting on top of you so people watching would know what it would look like if he got on top of them), or him getting on his knees in front of you (again, similar to prior idea and kabedon idea) had to be scraped because it would cause trouble for him backstage and you didn't quite want it to go that far.

in the end, you chose option number four: him doing push ups while shirtless, and with that, he got to his workout of the day (thankfully it's off season for volleyball so he didn't have much going for today, only exercising, checking emails, and a few hours of practice which were to take place later in the afternoon) while you got to filming.

atsumu gave up the comfiest couch in your living room for you while you edited the video, and ever the sweetheart, cooked you your favorite meal, checking emails at the same time. he knew the result of the sacrifices (he really loves that comfy couch and is thinking of buying another one so you don't have to play rock, paper, scissors for it every time) he was making was going to be worth it.

and it was.

"damn, angel. you made me look hotter than i already am." he praised your work clearly in shock, earning him a kiss to his jaw from you.

"oh baby, yer gonna have them eating off of the palm of yer pretty hands."

after that, you immediately posted it on tiktok with the caption this man cannot actually exist, i'm in love which was a nod to the fact that one of the clips you added in does not actually exist on the internet.

as you expected, it was a hit with your followers. within a minute, your phone was going crazy with notifications. the first few ones were only from people who didn't make edits (and people who you assumed were just casual atsumu fans since they felt no need to ask you about that clip) as they only complimented your work.

Gojo's Left Middle Finger Fingernail: my favorite used to be ushijima, but you're making an atsumu miya believer out of me

KENTOLUVVER: .. i know damn well kageyama's a better setter, but atsumuuuuu

(you didn't agree with this)

kyugisakiiz: this edit served as good as atsumu's serve 😌

minedaikiao: that's my future husband right there

(you don't really agree with this one either)

rickyyy: bro atsumu is soo fine

flower power bowser: girl, imagine an atsumu edit to honeypie. i would lose my mind

but soon after that, the fans you affectionately call certified atsumu girlies (fans who would ask you where a clip is from because they're interested in that video, not in an editor perspective) and the editors came pouring in.

msby filmzzz: ummmm, atsumu's push upsss??? hello?????? where is that from

hearts for tsumu: i can't believe in my two years of editing for atsumu, there's still a vid out there i haven't watched yet

atsumu's #1 girl: girl, i'm gonna need you to do me a favor and tell me where that push up clip is from

4TSUMUM1Y4: can you please send me the link to the fourth clip? can't seem to find it

in which case atsumu, not to be outdone in pettiness, came up with an idea of his own, copy and pasting a link to rick astley's never gonna give you up as a reply to the queries.

i get: reblog

you get: a copy of this edit

[isadollie]

break a leg! • chigiri hyoma

★ telling someone to "break their leg" before an important event is supposed to bring them luck; but this time luck wasn't on your side.

★ this fic is a part of an amazing summer olympics collab by @tetzoro !! i'm so happy i'm able to take part in it 🫶 i had a lot of fun writing it!:3

"it's such a pretty city!" you sighed gently, your head resting against your boyfriend's shoulder. chigiri followed your gaze and smiled. "i told you, didn't i?"

the two of you were seated in a cute café, observing the busy streets of paris through the big window next to your table.

you looked into his eyes with a tiny smile. "you don't seem too stressed." he simply shrugged, pulling you a bit closer. "stress won't help me anyway. besides, you're here with me so i'm sure it will be fine." he pressed a gentle kiss on your forehead.

of course you were there with him. how could you not? your boyfriend has been very successful in the football field for quite a while now, but the olympics are a whole new level. and now that his team made it into the semi-finals, you couldn't be happier for him.

you gently played with his beautiful, long hair with a smile. it's a short calm moment, among of all the crazy things that have been happening lately; all the stress, all the emotions that came with the competitions. you wanted to enjoy this moment for as long as you could.

"hey... let's go and take some cute photos together." you chuckled, slowly standing up from your seat and offering him your hand. chigiri raised an eyebrow, but obeyed anyway.

as always, "taking photos together" turned into a whole professional session with you as a model. you kept on coming up with new poses and he's been taking hundreds of photos, already contemplating which ones he'll post on his instagram later. he loved to show you off after all.

"a bit more to the left, baby" he said gently, showing you where to stand. "perfect! now... how about you go up those stairs?" he pointed to the staircase a few meters away from you two. "i bet the pics will be amazing!"

you happily obeyed, climbing up the stairs as you made another cute pose. "oh my god, chigiri look!" you suddenly squealed, getting distracted from your little modeling role. "a kitten! aww, it's so cute!" you cooed, turning around to see as the small creature ran up the stairs next to you.

what you didn't expect though, is that this cute animal will make you distracted enough to lose your balance. last thing you remember is that your foot didn't touch the step as it was supposed to, your body falling down to the ground, followed by your boyfriend shouting out your name.

---★--------★--------★--------★--------★---

"does it still hurt a lot?" chigiri asked softly, gently combing your hair.

you nodded with a grimace as you looked down at your leg in a cast. you looked over at him as you munched on the sweet pastry he brought you. "it does. those chocolate muffins are really tasty though, you were right."

your body was still in pain after your fall, which you blamed entirely on the orange, fluffy cat from the staircase. you got to the hospital yesterday, where they told you your leg is broken. you also had a few bigger and smaller bruises on your arms and back.

earlier today chigiri's team won in the semi-finals, but due to your injury, you watched the whole match on the tv in your hospital room. as soon as the game ended and your boyfriend had a bit of free time, he immediately rushed to your side. after he took the muffins, of course.

chigiri sighed as he put the hairbrush down, pressing a tissue to your cheek to wipe some of the chocolate away. "i'm so sorry, darling" he said so sadly, almost as if your accident was his fault. "did the doctors say anything?"

you looked away slightly, knowing you have to tell him the sad truth. "yeah. i have to stay here for at least three days more. i won't be able to be there to see the finals from the stands."

the long-haired man nodded slowly as he sat down next to your bed. he expected it, but hearing it out loud made his heart ache even more. he didn't say anything, just wrapped his arms around you in a gentle hug, careful not to hurt you further.

the cute moment between the two of you have been suddenly interrupted as bachira stormed into the room with a big grin on his face, and a bunch of colorful markers in his hands. his eyes lit up even more as he saw your cast. "time to let my inner picasso come out!"

chigiri just sent him a glare, but you couldn't stop yourself from letting out a small laugh.

---★--------★--------★--------★--------★---

"i have to go now." your boyfriend said as he squeezed your hand gently. you saw how stressed he was, and you couldn't blame him.

competing for a gold medal at the olympics was not a joke, after all.

"good luck, love. don't you worry, yeah? it will be alright, i promise." you showed him a genuine smile, squeezing his hand back. he just sighed. "i just wish you could be there."

your eyes softened. "me too. but i have a tv here, i'll watch the whole game just like i did with the previous one, hm?"

hyoma smiled and leaned closer to stroke your cheek. "i really need to go now... i already have a missed call from nagi."

"right. i would tell you to break a leg, but i already did it, so no need for you to do the same."

he gently chuckled and pressed a soft kiss to your lips before he left the room.

---★--------★--------★--------★--------★---

this didn't look well.

the score was currently 1:0, and chigiri's team was losing. you were tossing in your bed; as much as your broken leg allowed you to.

his team was trying their best, but the opponents always found a way to get the ball back. you'd let out a gasp whenever chigiri had the ball, and then let out a curse whenever he lost it.

suddenly the tv turned off, and your heart almost jumped out of your chest.

"oh no, no, no!" you whined, clicking every button on the remote, but nothing worked. you got out your phone, and attempted to watch the game on it, but your battery was on only 9%, so it soon died too.

where did you put the damn charger?

it wasn't anywhere near you, and you couldn't move much around your bed, not to mention you couldn't sit up on your own.

you desperately asked one of the nurses for help, but she couldn't find your charger in the room as well, which only made you feel worse. she even was kind enough to bring you her own charger, but it didn't fit to your phone. she promised to ask her colleagues for a right type of charger, but because of her other responsibilities, she couldn't come back to you in a while.

you sighed deeply, running your shaky hands down your face, knowing that you ran out of possibilities.

---★--------★--------★--------★--------★---

"sweetheart, wake up..." a soft voice from your left made you slowly open your eyes, feeling your shoulder being gently shaken.

you yawned as your eyes finally opened, taking in the sight of your boyfriend. "ah, finally!" he huffed impatiently, lightly pinching your cheek.

"what's going on..?" you mumbled in confusion.

then the memories started to come back; how you watched the game, how the tv broke and how you couldn't find a proper charger. you must have fallen asleep in the middle of this chaos.

"i swear, waking you up from your beauty sleep is harder than winning a medal." chigiri teased gently, his eyes sparkling with genuine happiness.

"what..?" you rubbed your eyes and gasped, noticing the gold medal hanging from his neck. "you-! but it was 1:0-!"

he chuckled, still caressing your cheek. "at first, sure. but we ended up winning 2:1."

suddenly a pout formed on his face as he noticed your confusion.

"no way! you didn't see my goal?!"

"i can explain--!"

i wrote this in roughly 40 minutes so let me apologize for any mistakes i might have made! still, it was fun to write it:3

[newtonsheffield]

Okay but how insane does Kate go when she wins her first Olympic medal in France on a damn clay court?

Clay courts and Kate Sharma are not a match made in heaven. She hates everything about it right down to the fact that it makes her shoes dirty.

She does love one thing about it though: She convinced Anthony to enter mixed doubles with her.

“Kate, babe, we wouldn’t qualify. I haven’t played pro tennis in nearly a year.”

“It’ll be fun.” Kate hummed in his ear as they lay in bed. “We’ll be great.”

“I haven’t even played at Roland Garros for at least five years.”

“We can galivant around Paris. See if we can break one of those cardboard beds. I want to share this with you.”

Anthony groaned, “Damnit! How do you always convince me to do this shit?”

“I’m very pretty.” Kate hummed, “I think it helps.”

Two days later it’s announced that Anthony Bridgerton and Kate Sharma have formed a mixed doubles team to qualify for the Olympics. Team GB is desperately hoping they can do it because god, what a story. Kate Sharma and Anthony Bridgerton. Tom Dorset should be the king of British tennis, and he is really, but Anthony Bridgerton is such journeyman. It’ll be the cherry on top of his career and his relationship ship with Kate Sharma is free advertising. They’d been hoping Kate might relent and do doubles with Tom Dorset but Anthony Bridgerton? Even better.

Everyone expects Kate to win Women’s singles. She’s won every slam so far this year, her form’s never been better. This is her chance to win a gold medal and Kate would be feeling the pressure. And on her least favourite surface as well. But it’s hard to feel it with Anthony beside her. With him cheering her on in the stands. It’s exhausting, managing singles and doubles but doubles doesn’t feel like work.

It feels like her and Anthony messing around at home. She loves seeing the joy on his face when he pops up with an overhead smash that has their opponents ducking out of the way. She loves sitting beside him at the changeover, Team GB written on his chest in their matching uniforms. She loves whistling when Anthony squats in front of her as the crowd roars with laughter and Anthony rolls his eyes.

“I know this is really serious; but this is actually a lot of fucking fun this year.”

For both of them the Olympics haven’t been a happy hunting ground previously, and in a way clay courts have been even less so, but this feels almost easy. The crowd doesn’t feel like pressure. Their families sat in the box together cheering with the rest of the crowd, it finally feels like Kate can feed off the energy.

“You can just tell me I was right.” Kate kissed him quickly as she adjusted her hat, chuckling as the crowd cheered for it.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Anthony sighed, standing up, shielding her from the sun. “Let’s go get into the final.”

“Ah he wants his gold medal, now! After I had to drag him here.”

It feels almost surreal, standing on the top step of the podium with Anthony’s arm around her waist with medals hanging around their necks as the national Anthem plays. Feels even more surreal when Anthony leans down as kisses her with a chuckle on his lips.

“I love you.”

Kate nodded, hugging him tightly, “Love you too.”

“I’m going to marry you.”

Kate could hardly breathe “Ask me properly then.”

“Soon.”

Kate does win the gold in the Singles as well as it turns out. The very next day she’s back on the top step of the podium and three gold medals hang in their house but her favourite one is the one they won together. The one that brought them both so much joy.

[avatar-anna]

hii so i wanted to know if you could do a frat boy harry who’s a hockey player and reader who’s a figure skater. and it’s like enemies to lovers type of thing like rivals.

idk how to feel about this one...but here you go!

Part 2

You positioned your arms in the correct position, taking some deep breaths before the music began. The opening chords sounded—a lilting, breathy harp—and when you were ready, you bent down gracefully, and started the routine you'd been perfecting for months.

Your skates glided across the ice, your body letting the music move you through each trick. Nothing else existed for the next two and a half minutes. Drowning out every single distraction was the only way to achieve perfection, in your mind.

The music finally stopped as you skated back to the center to land in your final position. Your breathing was heavy, but you tried your hardest not to let it show. The routine needed to appear effortless, and panting like you'd just run a marathon would give the opposite effect.

There was light applause from some of the other girls you skated with after you left the center of the rink, but otherwise it was still fairly quiet. That is, until Harry showed up.

“Oh, come on, Princess, you can do better than that!”

“Suck my dick, Harry!”

“I’d rather suck on something else, love, you know that. But only if you let me.”

You rolled your eyes, but didn’t look over at him once, knowing that would only give him more satisfaction.

Harry Styles was the captain of your school’s hockey team. He was the best goalie in the state, had an excellent record, had his pick of any NHL team from coast to coast, could even be selected for the Olympic team next year. He was one of the most popular guys at your school, students and professors alike wrapped around his finger, but to you he was just a cocky, arrogant son of a bitch.

You skated at the same university, but instead of holding a stick and getting into fights and shoving opponents against plexiglass, you performed. Your competitions weren't so barbaric. You were a figure skater, an excellent one at that. Not that anyone at your school really cared. If it wasn’t aired on the a big sports network, it wasn't worth talking about. It didn't matter that you were a world class figure skater, or that you were mastering tricks that only the best skaters in the world merely considered putting in their routines. It didn't matter that you'd won competition after competition. You weren’t praised for your flawless technique or your effortless grace the way that Harry was praised for blocking an impossible shot. Statistically speaking, you technically had a better record than Harry did as far as victories went, but as history has shown, boys always got more recognition.

It didn’t bother you that Harry and his teammates were more popular than you, that wasn’t your issue. The problem was that it went straight to their heads. They lorded their talent over everyone like they were God’s gift to humankind. It drove you insane, and the fact that you all practiced and trained at the same rink made it that much worse.

You skated back to the center of the rink again, more laser focused than ever now that you knew Harry was watching. The only good thing that came out of his assholish ways was that it drove you to work ten times harder. When the music started, you could feel his eyes watching your every move, but you let it fuel you. You didn't just achieve perfection, you were perfection. And where you might have bobbled a landing last go around, this time you stuck it without a hitch.

“Yeah! That’s my girl!” Harry whistled, the sound of his hands clapping bouncing off the pretty much empty rink.

At that, you turned and glared at him, only to see him smiling and wiggling his eyebrows at you. Everything about him irritated you to the highest degree, from the self-satisfied smirk to the way his dark curly hair fanned out beneath his backward baseball cap, the one that rarely left his head unless he was wearing his goalie helmet. The most annoying thing about him was how cute he was. If he wasn’t such a dick you actually might be interested.

Before you could reply with a snide remark, your coach walked over to where Harry was pressed up against the rim of the rink. “Stop distracting my skaters, Styles!”

“Sorry, Coach,” Harry called, but he didn’t look apologetic in the slightest. Winking at you, he walked off, taking his hat off for a moment to run a hand through his hair before putting it back on again.

Shaking Harry off, you finished the rest of your training in peace. It went pretty quick, which was why Harry was there in the first place. Once you and your friends got out of your skates and changed into regular clothes in the locker room, you were all on your way to the parking lot.

“I swear he’s into you or something,” Kate, one of your best friend said when she saw Harry waiting by your car, a couple of his friends/teammates with him.

“As he should, but it’s never gonna happen,” you said.

Kate nudged you. “Why? I mean he’s annoying as fuck, but he’s the hottest guy at our school. And I’ve heard he’s, like, you know, good in bed.”

“Ugh, not you too, Kate,” you groaned, though you weren’t all that surprised she was playing devil’s advocate. She went to the dark side a few months ago when one of the other boys on the hockey team asked her to to some fraternity dance and had been together ever since. “And for the record, no one our age is actually ‘good.’ According to my sister, it takes years of practice.”

“If you’re worried I don’t have any experience, you shouldn't. I have plenty of it, Princess.”

You rolled your eyes. “Your hand doesn’t count as experience, Harry,” you said, walking past him and his friends to put your things in the trunk of your car.

His friends all laughed and pushed him around, but you ignored all of it, waiting for them all to leave. From your vantage point, you saw Kate walk over to Harry and her boyfriend Zayn. She went over and gave him a hug, but you stayed where you were, not looking Harry in the eye.

“There’s a party tonight,” Zayn said to you and Kate. “You guys should come.”

Before you could say no, Kate spoke first. “Yeah, we’ll definitely be there.” After telling you that she’d be at your house to pick you up later, she and Zayn walked off, leaving you and Harry alone.

“I’m assuming you’re sticking around because you need a ride?” you asked, slowly inching forward.

Harry nodded, reaching his hand out to you. You took it reluctantly, letting him pull you closer. Once you were close enough, though, you couldn’t help yourself. You surged forward and kissed him, pressing your body against his. Harry was more than receptive, letting you take his baseball cap off and run your hands through his hair. His kiss set you on fire, and you hated how much you loved it.

“You have to stop doing that,” you said once Harry’s lips attached to your neck. You almost couldn’t get the words out because he knew exactly which spots made your breath hitch, but you managed.

“I thought we were supposed to be keeping up appearances,” he panted, speaking the words into your skin. “You’re the one who doesn’t want anyone to know we’re dating.”

“We’re not dating.” Your response was immediate. You expected Harry to stop his attack on your neck, but he didn’t. In fact, you felt him grin against you.

“Sure, whatever you say.”

Screwing around with Harry was not something you expected. He was cocky and got on your nerves constantly. But he flirted with you just as often, and one day it just got to you. You dragged him into a closet at a party, and you’d been secretly doing whatever you were doing ever since.

“No one finds out, got it?” you whispered, unbuttoning his shirt.

“Whatever you want, Princess. We done talking now?”

So you were a thing. Friends with benefits. But not really friends because outside of closed doors Harry still pissed you off to no end. Rivals with benefits? No, that didn't have the same ring to it.

It didn't really matter, though. Even giving that much thought to the situation at hand was too much.

Harry slid into the passenger seat of your car after throwing his gear in the trunk. Giving him a ride wasn't something you foresaw after that first night you spent with him, but he didn't own a car and didn't live with his friends, and after he mentioned nearly getting jumped at a bus station, you offered to drive him home. Harry was a thorn in your side, but you weren't heartless.

His hand settled comfortably on your knee as you pulled out of the parking lot, his thumb moving back and forth along the soft material of your sweatpants.

“Don’t,” you warned.

“Don’t what?” Harry asked, though you didn't even have to look over to know he was smirking at you.

“Last time you tried something in the car we almost crashed”

“That’s because your eyes were closed. I'm completely innocent,” Harry reasoned.

“You had your fingers—”

“Now, now, Princess. Stay calm before you nearly kill us again.”

You groaned in sheer annoyance. At Harry's childishness, at yourself for letting his immaturity get to you. He knew just how to push your buttons, and you absolutely despised him for it.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

“Stay with me tonight.”

“I already told Kate—”

“Tell her you’re sick,” Harry interrupted, kissing your bare shoulder. “You didn’t even want to go in the first place. Just stay here.”

You wouldn't lie, staying in Harry's bed sounded much more appealing than holding a plastic cup of stale beer and shouting over music to be heard. Parties were never really your thing, but it was something to do on the weekends, so you went. But now Harry was presenting another option, though it was one that wandered beyond the boundaries of your arrangement.

“Don’t you think people might get the wrong idea if both of us don't show up?” you asked. You felt like you needed a reason to say no, and this was the best one you could come up with.

“Everyone thinks we hate each other,” Harry replied. His voice was raspy and slow, the way it got when he was tired. You weren't sure when you started to recognize little details like that, but now you did. “Come on. My roommate is gone for the weekend. We'd have the whole place to ourselves.”

“We’d probably kill each other,” you mused, though the idea did spark something in you.

“Maybe.”

His voice was muffled as his lips dragged across your skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake. One hand moved your hair to the side so he had better access to the spot just below your ear while the other traced lazy circles on your hip. You were tired, utterly spent really, but the sensation of Harry’s skin and the occasional nip of his teeth was hard to ignore. You leaned into his touch almost involuntarily, humming as his hands continued to dip and stroke apply pressure in the places he knew were your most sensitive.

“What were you gonna do at that party anyway?” he said. “Pretend to have a good time? Talk to guys who think they have a chance with you when they don't?”

“Who says they don't?” you asked, though it was mostly to egg Harry on. You didn't miss the glares pointed in your direction whenever you talked to other guys at parties. There weren't any kind of rules that the two of you abided by, but both of you were well aware of the fact that you weren't seeing anyone else. And Harry would always let you know how he felt about you flirting with other guys when he finally got you alone.

You'd hoped that your remark would set Harry's jealousy aflame and make him remind you how wrong you actually were. It was the kind of cat and mouse game you played often, but instead of responding the way he normally did, Harry did the oddest thing. He let go of you completely.

“Fine then. Go and have fun at your party.”

You were inexplicably cold as Harry's arms released their hold on you and he shuffled towards the edge of the bed so he wasn't touching you.

Totally and utterly surprised, you laid still, unsure of what was going on. Finally, you said, “Really?”

Harry shrugged as he pulled a book from his nightstand and opened it up, completely nonplussed. “If you think that anyone at that stupid party is going to measure up to me, then by all means,” he said, gesturing towards the bedroom door with his book.

Without another word, he went back to reading, leaving you virtually alone with your thoughts.

Something stirred in you. Guilt didn't feel like the right word, but you felt...kind of bad for making Harry feel that way, and even worse now that he wasn't paying attention to you. It was ludicrous, seeing as he drove you insane and you hated him, but at the moment, all you wanted to do was crawl over to him and have his attention again. At the very least to have him finish what he'd started.

So, perhaps against your better judgement, you did.

“I’m sorry,” you said, squishing your cheek against his shoulder and spreading your hand across his torso.

By now you didn't even have to look at him to know which tattoos you were tracing, so you kept your eyes on his face as your fingers traveled from the butterfly on his stomach down to the fern leaves on his hips. Up, down, lower, grazing until you got a reaction from him.

“You’re gonna have to do a lot better than that,” he mumbled. His eyes were still on his book, but he had yet to turn a page, so you knew progress was being made.

You added kisses to the mix. All across his chest you kissed him, sucking a hickey right where his heart was. You could feel Harry's heart beat faster, but he still wouldn't look at you, which made your brows furrow with mild annoyance.

“Hmm. Now we're getting somewhere,” he said, a satisfied grin on his face, when your hand finally stopped teasing and got to work.

Still, it took another couple minutes of you practically groveling for him to finally look at you. His chest was flushed, but his face still remained as calm as ever. He'd hardly reacted at all to what you were doing, which made you want to please him that much more.

Pouting at him, you took the book out of his hands and chucked it across his bedroom, then placed one of his hands on you.

With one brow raised, Harry looked down at you. “You ready to behave?”

The logical part of your brain was saying this was madness. You hated how smug he was acting, how sure of himself he was. You were stroking his ego, and he was eating it up, something you never thought you would do voluntarily. But you wanted to, and you hated how much you loved it, loved having to work for it.

You nodded, leaning towards him. He would most likely never let you live this moment down, and you would have to exact some kind of revenge on him in the future, but all of that was far from your mind. The only thing you cared about was Harry's lips meeting your own as he pushed you back against the mattress, finally ready to give you both what you wanted.

[bestdemigodarcherever]

Sup World, I Am Here To Grace Your Lives With My Amazing Presence‼️‼️

Hey, It's Kayla Knowles, your favourite child of Apollo and the best demigod archer EVER!!!!

I am 15 and Canadian🇨🇦🇨🇦

A Greek Daughter of Apollo that isn't a year-rounder because my super amazing dad, Darren Knowles, is still alive and teaches archery!!

People will tell you I'm not Apollo's favourite. They're wrong😜😜

I'm bisexual and female-leaning 🩷💜💙

I'm also super cool and single, plus open to relationships!!

Now for cool people I know!!

@totally-percy-jackson Percy! Cool dude, saved the world twice, blue food enthusiast🌊🌊

@wise-girltm Annabeth! Extremely smart, aspiring architect, also helped save the world twice, dating Percy🧠🧠

@goat-boy-underwood Grover! Best satyr, loves eating cans, did what no other satyr could do and found Pan, god of the wild🌱🌱

@gemstonequeen Hazel! Kind, pretty, apparently died and came back to life, dating Frank💎💎

@fire-boy-official Leo McShizzle Valdez, Bad Boy Supreme! (there I said it Leo happy?) Flirt, coolest Hephaestus kid I know to be honest, fun, annoying🔥🔥

@thalias-amazing-brother Jason! Cool dude, helped my Dad become a better person, stickler for the rules, Superman🍃🍃

@iguanaurwayoutofhandcuffs Frank! Can transform into animals, Canadian (partially) so kinda like me(!), dating Hazel🐻🐻

@miss-beauty-queen / @tis-i-piper-mclean Piper! Made two blogs to mess with people, pretty, cool💞💞

@king-of-the-ghosts Nico! Honorary Apollo camper, Will's boyfriend, would choose to date Darth Vader(worst choice ever dude)💀💀

@sunshine-and-socialanxiety Will! Nico simp, my big brother, dork, head counselor, probably needs a pay raise🔆🔆

@not-so-dead-sister Bianca! Beautiful, super cool, Nico's big sister, honestly amazing🩻🩻

@jasons-amazing-sister Thalia! Was a pine tree(formerly), another super cool kid, girlboss🏹🏹

@reyna-dontcallmerara Reyna! Very cool, one of my favourite Romans, strict👑👑

@silenasblogies Silena! Pretty, kind, very fun💄💄

@official-drakon-slayer Clarisse! Honestly not exactly very friendly, pretty cool, fierce🗡️🗡️

@i-can-see-stars-again Zoë! Old-timey, cool, pretty⭐⭐

@best-country-singer Ms Naomi Solace! Will's mom, mother of the year, VERY cool🎤🎤

@arisdaughter Serene! My favourite sister, also cool, great archer🎯🎯

@kit-kat-flowers Katie! Also needs a pay raise, my favourite Demeter kid, the BEST🌱🌱

Gods!!

@ex-god-apollo My dad, god of the sun, Apollo! Though, he's currently stuck as Lester, a teenage mortal with acne☀️☀️

@yes-im-aphrodite Aphrodite! Extremely beautiful, goddess of love, mostly cool💖💖

@by-the-decree-of-my-bolt Zeus! Needs to keep it in his pants, worst parent ever, god of lighting⚡⚡

@my-sisters-and-the-moon Aunt Artemis! My favourite goddess, coolest aunt ever, goddess of the moon🌙🌙

@yes-im-hades Hades! Pretty good dad, my favourite Big 3 god, god of the dead, kinda deserves better☠️☠️

Back to me!

I am a girl of many talents! I'm an aspiring Olympic archer, a great musician and skilled at physical contests and games!

I can also heal people by singing to my dad in Ancient Greek, curse people to only speak in rhyming couplets and again, a really amazing archer!

DNI if racist, transphobic, homophobic, NSFW, aphobic, sexist!!

Tags!!

#shut up everyone i have arrived☀️☀️ (ic posts)

#blesses you with my presence and acknowledgement☀️☀️ (ask answers)

#(zah)rawr🗣️🗣️ (ooc)

hey!! tis i, @/sillylilpinkblob, the admin of this blog!! im a minor, and so is Kayla, so no inappropriate stuff, kay? great!!

dividers by @samspenandsword

[heyyallitssatan]

Todo fam headcanons

Enji isn’t a dick addition

He didn’t intentionally train any of his to be heroes, he just accepted them as they were

Touya really wanted to be a hero, but when they figured out his quirk didn’t work with his body they had to have a lot of long hard talks, they tried to find a lot of support gear but nothing could completely keep him from burning himself and they didn’t want him to risk his life

He came around to the idea eventually and ended up going to school to become a paramedic

Fuyumi didn’t get parentified and was allowed to explore what she wanted, she ended up loving art and went to an art school before apprenticing under a sculptor and then a tattoo artist, she eventually went back to sculpting and runs her own studio now

Natsuo followed in his big brothers footsteps and went to med school, he’s an er doctor

Shoto loved the skating trips his mom took him on and became a professional/Olympic figure skater and coach

Also, Rei was a snowboarder in this universe because I said so

It should be mentioned, Touya took up rock climbing as a hobby and got really into it

Fuyumi started doing mma as a stress release, she tried to get her siblings into it but it reminded Touya too much of training and the other two never enjoyed fighting

Natsuo feels like he gets plenty of physical activity between the er and his twice weekly workouts, so his hobby is playing video games,

Enji picked up crocheting after rei told him he needed a non stressful hobby to help him relax

Rei I turn felt she also needed a nonstressful hobby, and promptly chose rebuilding old cars because they have more money than god and can certainly afford it

Shoto never really made time for hobbies until fuyumi taught him how to sculpt, now he enjoys making weird little trinkets to give friends and family, and occasionally his competitors

I like to think the show still progresses normally, just with shinsou in 1A instead of shoto

The the reason we find out about the todoroki family is cause bakugou and midoriya both do their internship with Endeavor sanders he gushed about his wife and kids every chance he got

Midoriya thought shoto was the best thing ever and rei tried to set them up

She succeeded and got an adorable little son in law

Fuyumi showed up during bakugous internship with miruko to drop off some food for her wife and he freaked out cause he thinks miruko is so cool and turns out she has a badass wife too, best day ever

Touya meets both of them when he shows up at hawks agency to pick him up for their dinner date, they both lose their shit cause why are so many of them dating heroes

They meet natsuo during his internship/study program with recovery girl

Then they see rei on tv as a pro snowboarder

Now they’re wondering how many todorokis there are cause they just keep showing up everywhere

Then they find out that Touya and fuyumi are both in a heavy metal band, which segways into them finding out all of the todoroki play various instruments, and sports

When they ask how the hell they all know so much and have so many hobbies they just respond that they were homeschooled and rich, this left a lot of time and money to invest in random interests, so they all developed a ton of skills for absolutely no other reason than they got bored

Now Endeavor is number one after allmight retired, and they were competing for that spot beforehand but it was more of a friendly rivalry to encourage them to get better (maybe it started out legit but they both chilled quite a bit as they got older and eventually became friendly, though they kept up the image for the public and because it made them better heroes), but after all might was forced to retire endeavor publicly stated that this wasn’t the way he wanted their rivalry to end, but he would do his best to honour all might memory and carry on his legacy

He also encourages the new number two, his son in law hawks and every other hero to challenge him and make him keep working for his position

Now, this was cleared with hawks beforehand kind of as an announcement of his engagement to Touya, sadly the public misinterpreted that and thought that he was dating his daughter fuyumi, miruko shot that down quick and informed everyone that fuyumi was hers and hawks could fight her for it, all in good fun, and hawks clarified that he appreciates the offer cause fuyumi is great, but he’s very gay and quite in love with her brother

This was great, it was the closest to celebrity drama they’ve ever gotten from the todoroki family and it’s still super wholesome

[evilios]

I kind of want to summarize everything (that I know) regarding the discussion on "dark-haired Apollo" that came up as of recent because I received some questions about further sources/analysis of sources and it's started to become very messy.

I want to organize the points made I personally want to expand on because I feel like they need further commentary:

🏺 Paean and Prosodion by Limenios, approx. 2nd. c. BCE, is not fully preserved and mentions Apollo's hair twice: once is the explicit and rather well retained χ[ρ]υσεοχαίταν (chryseochaitan, golden-haired/of golden locks or curls) and the second one is proposed-reconstructed as ...οί]νώ[πα] (oinopa, like wine). Translators do not seem to come to a single conclusion on how to translate this supplementation, if correct.

Landels (1999) offers "wine-dark", but Furley & Bremer (2001) argues that it makes more sense for Apollo's hair to be described through this word in its meaning of "glossy". The study by Furley & Bremer brings up two arguments:

Apollo's hair receives a different (more common for him) epithet in the same hymn.

Callimachus' Hymn to Apollo (2), approx. 3rd c. BCE, mentions Apollo's hair to be dripping anointing balm. S. Stephens in the commentary to Callimachus' Hymns explains that Apollo's hair drips healing balm onto the ground as he's a healing God. F&B thus come to the conclusion that the supposed glistening of Apollo's hair might indicate a cult practice of anointing his head in oil (sometimes before he encounters the Pytho[n]).

Unrelated but this is the same very issue we encounter with "wine-dark sea" (same word/root, too) and translators not being sure whether it means "purple", "reddish", or "shiny but dark" — or perhaps evokes an emotion rather than just color.

I will add here as my own observation that Apollo's mother, Leto, received the epithet of λιπαροπλόκαμος (liparoplokamos, one with glossy hair) in Homer and while ascribing motherly traits to the son is a bit of a reach, it might be a similar context as the first root of the compound word might indicate "shiny with oil".

🏺 Deipnosophistae (book 13), approx. 3rd c. AD, makes a notion of "dark hair" in the same paragraph with Apollo's name not to grant it to him as an epithet but to offer a point of rhetoric.

Athenaeus, through the words of Sophocles debating with another poet as they watch a servant boy (whom Sophocles later kisses but that's beyond the point, just a fun thing), offers a discussion point: if one considers the poetic description of "purple cheeks" unattractive just because it wouldn't look good in pottery, then one must think the same of "rosy fingered women" as well as "golden-haired Apollo" just because dipping fingers in rosy paint would turn them into "hands of a purple-dyer" and Apollo's hair would not look good if you turned the dark hair in the pottery actually gold.

Personally, I read it more so as a commentary on poetic language and its objection to literal interpretation and directness. If I really try, I can even stretch it into an argument in favor of Apollo "actually" being assumed dark-haired but (as a simile with "rosy fingers" of women and "purple cheeks" of a boy) receiving a more poetic comparison in literature. But, again, this part is my speculation.

🏺 There's one more Paean from Erythrae, approx. 4th c. BCE, which marks Apollo as κυανοπλόκαμον (kyanoplokamon, dark-haired) but also says he sired Seleucus, likely Seleucus I Nicator, the founder of the notorious Seleucid Empire who happened to exist in the same time period and invaded the area (Ionic site in Asia Minor) the hymn was found at. Nothing to say here, Apollo is called "dark-haired". Though I do find it interesting that another Deity given this exact epithet is Nike in Bacchylides' victory Ode to Hieron for winning horse-race in the Olympics of 476 BCE.

Completely unrelated to the discussion on Apollo (or is it?) but Dionysus also receives mixed epithets regarding his hair: χρυσοκόμης (chrysokomes, golden-haired) in Theogony but κυάνεος (kyaneos, dark [usually dark blue, glossy dark]) in Homeric Hymn (7).

With that said, it's entirely possible for both "golden hair" and "dark hair" to be used in either literal or non-literal way. Pottery depicts hair as dark, be it for practicality or not, some sculpture has golden coverage on the hair, (Roman) frescoes persistently depict most Gods as dark-haired, and A. Greek has plasticity of expression you can utilize to justify your choice of hair color for Apollo, whichever it is.

[rambleonwaywardson]

Clegan Olympics AU - Event Finals Part 1

Masterpost Now on AO3 - Sous Le Ciel de Paris

Part 11 I think?

Author's note: sorry for the delay on this guys, but I just couldn't get it to a place where I was happy with it for a while. And I don’t like putting things out when I’m not happy with them. Plus I wanted to wait until I watched event finals to make sure I felt relatively okay about the logistics. Plus I've been very busy with life 😬. But this part is a bit longer, so maybe that makes up for it?

Hope everyone is enjoying the Olympics! Here's Bucky's event finals, as promised.

---

The first day of individual event finals, Bucky is alone. Just him, his coaches, and seven of his new closest friends – the other athletes from around the world competing for a medal on men’s floor exercise. The only other men’s event today is pommel horse, and none of the U.S. athletes qualified. Croz damn near did, but he placed ninth after a form break, and only the top eight on each apparatus advance to finals.

So it’s just Bucky back here in the Bercy arena warm-up gym, and he feels oddly bereft. He doesn’t remember the last time he walked into a competition alone, without Curt at his side. It’s been the two of them at the top of men’s gymnastics for years. Even when they competed in college for different schools, they met up at competitions and became fast friends. Since then, they’ve trained together. They’ve competed together. They’ve faced the world and this crazy ass sport together. And now Bucky is alone. 

It’s nearing 9am in Paris, and he’s getting ready to do his fourth floor routine of this Olympics. His fourth floor routine in about a week, after qualifications, team, and all-around. 

We don’t think it’s a good idea for you to do floor yet, the doctors told him months ago. It’s too much of a risk. It’s too hard on your leg.

Bucky basically told them to fuck off because he planned to try for Paris. Once the idea was in his head – the idea that it could be possible – he couldn’t let it go. He needed to at least try. Honestly, not even he himself knows if he really expected to get this far. On one hand, yes he absolutely did. He’s John fucking Egan; as far as he’s concerned, this is what he was meant for, a destiny set forth by the gymnastics gods. On the other hand, did anyone really expect it after the year he’d had? Did anyone think it was possible? Did anyone think he could do it without hurting himself all over again?

And yet here he is. He wasn’t supposed to do floor exercise at all, and now he’s doing it four times in one week. And honestly, not even he’s sure that it’s a good idea. Not even he’s sure that he isn’t in over his head today. 

But that kind of mentality does not have a place on the gymnastics floor.

A wet nose presses against Bucky’s thigh as he sits on the floor, securing his brace once again as he prepares to head out into the arena for warmups. It’s his ever-dutiful good luck charm, getting Bucky through these Games just like he got him through trials. 

“Hey bud,” Bucky says, patting Beacon on the head. The golden smiles at him and wags his tail, as if he’s saying you’re not alone, you have me, and it makes Bucky smile, too. “Yeah, at least I have you,” he says. “Just you and me against the world, Bea.”

Beacon licks his hand in agreement.

The golden almost hadn’t made it to the Games, but Bucky and Curt had personally advocated to find a way to get him and his owner across the pond to Paris. USA Gymnastics wasn’t going to turn down their two stars, and they pulled some strings to make it happen. Since it’s an international event, the dog can’t be out on the competition floor, but USA Gym negotiated a way to have him back by the warm-up gym, and at this point just about everyone agrees it was the best decision anyone at the Olympics had ever made. He’s become not only the team USA therapy dog, but the therapy dog for every Olympic gymnast who needs a little extra comfort. Many of the athletes from other countries have made friends with him in the last week, taking photos with him and de-stressing by petting or playing with him. No one goes out onto the floor without petting Beacon for good luck.

Beacon, who started as a USA Gymnastics celebrity, is now an Olympic celebrity. Everyone knows who he is, especially at Bercy. After winning team silver, Curt laid his medal around Beacon’s neck for a picture, citing him as part of the team. He attends interviews with the boys, gets professionally photographed, and can be spotted from time to time around the Olympic Village. The dog even has his own custom “Beacon the Good Boy” pin for the Olympic pin exchange, and it’s quickly become a highly sought after souvenir for the athletes.

A Japanese gymnast, the favorite to win floor finals, walks by as he prepares to head out into the arena. He stops to lean down and scratch Beacon on the ears, and Beacon wags his tail and boops him on the arm. Bucky and the other gymnast exchange a smile and wish each other good luck, and then Bucky’s coach is grabbing his bag for him, letting him know it’s time to go. 

As Bucky gives Beacon a kiss on the head and walks away, he’s aware of every single athlete heading out to floor exercise – all eight of them, no matter what country they’re from – stopping to pet the dog. For good luck. 

As the announcer calls his name – “For the United States of America, John Egan!” – Bucky walks through the open doorway into Bercy Arena, the American flag projected on the wall behind him. He smiles and waves at the crowd packing the arena on all sides and heads over towards the tumbling floor with the other gymnasts. As he walks, he feels some nerves begin to return, and he runs a hand through his hair and bites his lip as he takes a deep breath. 

One more time, he tells himself. He’s hit every other floor routine this week. He can hit this one, too.

He’s leaning over his bag, which his coach had set on one of the chairs to the side of the tumbling floor, when he hears a familiar voice. “Egan, why don’t you give me a smile?”

Bucky whips around, and he can’t stop the grin that breaks out across his face. “What the fuck are you doing here!”

He pulls Curt into a hug and claps him on the back. The other gymnast, not competing today, is wearing one of the red USA Gymnastics coaching polo shirts. He has his Paris Olympics ID card and a floor pass strapped across his body on one of those pink and blue Paris lanyards. Hand-written on the pass in a messy scrawl are the words “MAG Coach 2” – Men’s Artistic Gymnastics coach 2. 

“Pulled some strings,” Curt says. “I’m your other coach for the day. Thought you could use some of my awesomeness down here.”

Bucky rolls his eyes but hugs Curt again. “Thanks, man.”

Curt grins at him and puts a hand on his shoulder. “Let’s rack ‘em up and knock ‘em down.”

When it’s Bucky’s turn on floor, he spares a glance up to the stands. When he was younger, cockier, he’d interact with the crowd constantly during meets. Sometimes his coaches would reprimand him for it, telling him to focus. He didn’t really listen.

He didn’t necessarily lose that cockiness, but a greater wariness has welled up within him during his recovery, dimming it. In the last week, he’s been finding a better balance again, but he’s been different since he returned to competition. During trials, he tried to block out the crowd, not wanting to let it get into his head. He didn’t have quite so much fun, didn’t want to think about anything other than the next apparatus, the next pass, the next skill.

But that was before he cared about who was watching. Here, in Paris, he’s made a point of knowing exactly where Gale is sitting, as if that alone can fight off his nightmare from before all-around. As if that alone can keep his leg together, keep his mind and body on the same page, ensure he can stick the landings on these tumbling passes that his doctors don’t think he should be doing. 

Gale Cleven. Bucky’s other good luck charm. 

Gale is exactly where he said he’d be, five rows up, right in front of the tumbling floor. Benny is beside him, and Marge, fresh from winning team silver in show jumping, is in the next seat over. She waves excitedly when he looks up, and he waves back. Gale notices him at the last second and breaks into a smile that takes away any last remnants of nerves that had been swarming around Bucky’s head. Any anxiety he feels starts to simply melt away, because Gale smiling at him like that is like basking in the glow of the sun.

On Gale’s other side is Croz, Alex, and Brady. The rest of Bucky’s team, here to hype him up and cheer him on. Brady has a tiny American flag stuck behind each ear, and all three of them are wearing quite obnoxious custom John Egan t-shirts. Bucky wonders how they got them without him noticing. 

He stops at the chalk box and kicks the slides off his feet before stepping into it, coating his feet in white chalk as he waits for the go-ahead. Then he leans over to the elevated chalk bowl and does the same to his hands. Over the quiet chatter as the audience waits, he can hear Brady yell “Yeah you get that chalk!” And it makes him laugh. 

The commentators on TV will note that John Egan has the second highest start value in this competition. Second by a mere tenth of a point. If he chose to compete the floor routine he wanted to – before he fought with his doctors and coaches over the integrity of his leg and the importance of not fucking it up – he’d have the highest start value by a mile. But as a compromise, he chose to omit one of his harder passes due to the danger of over-rotation and re-injury. The commentators still talk about how it’s incredible that he’s doing what he’s doing at all, that he qualified second on floor after the injury he had. 

Bucky knows that, injury or not, his gymnastics speaks for itself. His floor routine speaks for itself. His difficulty score speaks for itself. He knows that, injury or not, he is seen as one of the best gymnasts in the world right now, and that is why he’s here. But sometimes he wishes the commentators and the interviewers and the media would see it that way too, that they’d stop qualifying his accomplishments by saying he’s doing a great job “for being terribly injured just months ago.”

Injury or not, he’s John fucking Egan. And he’s going to make sure everyone in this stadium knows it. Sure he already has the all-around gold, but as long as he’s here, he needs to keep proving that he’s more than a comeback, more than a pity story.

He’s John fucking Egan. 

When the green light comes on and the announcer says his name, he swears he can hear his friends cheering for him over anyone else in the stadium, and he lets it fuel him. He salutes the judges, steps into the corner of the floor to set up his first pass, and he throws himself at it with every last bit of energy he has. 

Triple twisting double back layout. Perfect stick. Applause. Combination pass. Near perfect stick. Applause. Double salto forward. Stick. Applause. Cartwheel, somersault into the splits. Japanese handstand – his non-acrobatic element – arms straight out to the side, hands pressing into the floor holding himself up, head no more than a fist’s width distance from the floor, legs straight in the air. Hold. Roll out of it. Three more passes left. 

On the penultimate pass, he can feel it when he’s only midway through, still ten feet in the air. It’s a feeling no gymnast, no matter how well trained, likes to have: he’s going to under-rotate this. When he lands, in an attempt to save himself from falling on his face, his left foot hits the floor at a very strange angle in front of him and causes him to stumble back a step on his right. He grimaces when he feels a painful tug on his left knee, straining the joint. 

Not now, he thinks. Not fucking now.

The commentators on TV will comment on the disconcerting way he landed, the look of concern that flashes across his face before he schools his features once again and regains his balance. They’ll mention his knee, his injury, his comeback, the fact that his doctor’s didn’t think he should do floor but he wouldn’t be stopped. 

Curt watches with concern, wondering if his fears were right, that today was just too much. He tries to analyze the way Bucky landed and the look on his face and what it might mean. He’s playing coach today, and he’s trying to make heads or tails of what’s going through Bucky’s head right now. But like any coach, it’s not up to him. Out there on the floor, it’s up to John and John alone. All he can do is watch what happens next.

In the stands, Croz, Alex, and Brady all cringe at the same time, making Gale go “What? What’s wrong?” with his eyes wide in alarm.

“He landed a bit weird on his left,” Croz explains. “Looks like he’s gonna keep going, but…”

Shit.

He’s gonna keep going, but he’d keep going even if he shouldn’t. 

Bucky’s fine. Enough. He’s fine enough. He needs to be fine enough. He’s still standing, so there’s no other option. He can still move, so anything else he can work out later. Whether he’s actually fine or if the adrenaline coursing through his body is masking the pain, he doesn’t know. Doesn’t matter.

He cocks his head, shakes his arms out as he brings his feet together in the corner once again. Just gotta make it one more, he tells himself. It’s fine. We’re fine. He can hear Curt on the sidelines, yelling encouragement despite his own uncertainty. “You’ve got this! Get it done, Bucky! Get it done!”

Bucky takes a deep breath, looks across the floor at the opposite corner. He can see the judges, watching his every move, finding every possible little fault in his performance. He stares them down, like a dare. They all know he has to be perfect on this last pass. 

He thinks of Gale. Find your line. 

“Find your line,” Gale whispers in the stands. Benny puts a hand on his knee and squeezes in anticipation. 

Ignoring the slight stinging pain in his leg, Bucky runs, flips his way into his dismount, and launches himself up into the air to complete the triple full. When he hits the floor, that spike of pain shoots through him again, but he grits his teeth and forces himself to stay in control. He landed with one of his heels just barely out of bounds, and he knows that one-tenth deduction will probably cost him the gold, but he stuck the landing perfectly otherwise. He gets too much power on that pass; he always has, and he’s quite frankly surprised this is the only time he’s landed out of bounds the entire routine. He laughs a little bit anyways, because even if it’s not gold, even if that Japanese gymnast beats him out, he fucking got it done. 

He will be only the second American male gymnast to ever win an Olympic medal on floor exercise, and the first since 1976.

Deafening chants of “USA! USA! USA!” go up around the arena, and he salutes before pumping his fist in the air and jumping across the floor, leg be damned. He waves his arms to pump up the crowd, and they cheer for him. Because they know, no matter what country they’re from, what it means for him to be here right now. 

“LET’S GOOOO!” He yells out, and he can hear Curt doing the same as he goes absolutely crazy on the sidelines. When Bucky haphazardly shoves his slides back on his feet and hops down, he jumps right into Curt’s arms as the other gymnast lifts him off his feet, jumping up and down in celebration.

“That’s how it’s done!” Curt exclaims.

If Bucky’s in any pain, as the commentators, his coaches, his friends feared he would be, when he steps up onto the podium for the medal ceremony, no one notices. He hides his slight limp. He waves to the crowd. He can’t stop smiling as he bows his head to receive a silver medal. His third medal of the Paris Olympics. 

He shakes hands, he poses for photos with the other medalists. He blows a kiss to Gale in the stands. He waves to the crowd. He talks to a reporter about what this means to him.

He has one event left. 

—

Bucky sits on the uncomfortable mattress, leaning back against Gale’s warm chest. He’s polishing off one of the infamous chocolate muffins from the dining hall, which he’s been looking forward to all day. Curt snagged it for him earlier that afternoon after Bucky complained about not being able to get to the dining hall to get one himself, and Bucky could have kissed the guy for it. Sure, maybe he still has one more event to go bright and early tomorrow morning, but he’s earned himself a damn muffin and then some. Gale bumps the side of Bucky’s head with his nose, and Bucky raises the muffin up so Gale can have a bite before it’s gone.

Curt and Bucky’s small bedroom is full the night of his floor exercise silver. Tomorrow, he and Curt have rings and vault finals, so it’s a chill night in for them. No drinking or painting the town red or even mingling with the other athletes in the USA House. Bucky and Gale sit together on Bucky’s bed. Curt sits on his own bed, Croz beside him and Brady half laying across them both. Alex sits on the floor in the small space in between, leaning back against Curt’s bed, with Benny also on the floor, leaning against Bucky’s. Marge sat out their little gathering in favor of meeting up with her jumping team, which benny gave her shit for.

Ice is wrapped around Bucky’s knee, which is still sore but doesn’t seem to be seriously damaged. He’s been able to walk fine unless he stays still too long, and Gale took it upon himself to massage his leg earlier in the afternoon (which Bucky totally did not try – and succeed – to turn into a makeout session). Either way, he thinks the soreness might be worth it, because he has three Olympic medals hanging around his neck. And they’re heavy. 

“Maybe you should compete with those weighing you down,” Alex jokes. “Give the rest of us a fighting chance.”

Bucky laughs and holds up his second silver medal, bites down on it like he did for the photos on the podium. “Jealous, much?” 

“Of Olympic all-around gold medalist, comeback kid of the year, John Clarence Egan?” Alex says dramatically. “No. He’s an ass.”

“Oh fuck off!” Bucky laughs and throws his pillow at Alex, who doesn’t have time to dodge and lets it smack him in the chest. Then he takes it for himself and shoves it behind his back. 

“Wait! Bite down on the medal like that again,” Croz orders, motioning to Bucky as he pulls out his phone. 

“Aren’t there enough pictures of me biting an Olympic medal?” Bucky asks. There’s at least several from each event so far this week, and if everyone in this room is being honest, they fully expect him to add another medal to his collection tomorrow morning.

Gale makes to unwind his arm from around Bucky to get out of the frame, but Croz says “No, Buck, you stay there.” Gale arches an eyebrow but slowly wraps his arm securely around Bucky once again, pulling him close.

“Oh! Hold on,” Bucky says. He tells Curt to grab his silver medal, and Curt understands. He pushes himself off the bed, nearly knocking Brady to the floor, and grabs his medal from his bedside table, because that’s obviously the perfect place to store an Olympic medal. Reaching across Bucky’s bed, he motions for Gale to bow his head, and he places the medal around the blonde’s neck. A stand-in for his own eventing silver medal. 

“There,” Bucky says, pressing his fingers to the medal now resting on Gale’s chest. “Très beau.”

“Très beau,” Gale agrees with a soft smile.

“Okay, look over here,” Croz tells them. And he takes their picture.

Bucky decides not to even be shy about it. He posts the photo on Instagram immediately, with the caption “silver medalists ❤️” at the bottom. Bucky biting down on his silver medal with a smile as he leans back against Gale’s chest. His other two medals hanging around his neck. Gale’s arm wrapped around him as he holds up his own silver medal with his other hand, smiling shyly. Both of them in comfy team USA t-shirts. The ice on Bucky’s knee is barely visible at the bottom of the frame.

“Aren’t you two cute,” Benny teases, reaching up to pat Gale on the leg. 

Gale rolls his eyes as Bucky kisses him on the cheek. “We sure are,” Bucky agrees. Then he looks at his teammates on the other side of the room, as if he just remembered something very important. “Did you guys see the adorable pictures of Buck and Whiskey after the medal ceremony?”

The other gymnasts shake their heads, and Bucky insists that they look. Gale blushes, trying to hide his face in Bucky’s hair, but Bucky won’t let him. He pulls out his phone and forces Gale to look at his own post with him for about the hundredth time. Gale may be the one who posted it, but Bucky is the one in love with it, as is the rest of America. It’s been re-posted by the US Equestrian, US Eventing, and Team USA accounts, so millions of people have seen the pictures at this point. Between that, opening ceremonies, and the media tracking his and Bucky’s “love story,” he’s gained hundreds of thousands of followers during the past week alone.

After Gale won his individual silver medal, the first thing he did when he saw Bucky again was shove his phone in his face and say “look at my girl!” It wasn’t even himself he was proud of; it was his horse. As usual. 

Aside from the professional photos that came out later that day – photographs of Gale on the podium, Gale on Whiskey with a pretty second place ribbon attached to her bridle, Gale and Whiskey together as he held up the medal around his neck – there’s also countless non-professional photos, mostly taken by his groom, Kenny, after he got back to the stables that day. 

Bucky’s favorite, though, is a selfie that Gale took, still looking sweaty with his cheeks flushed, hair sticking up in all directions, as he held up the medal. The picture was taken from below, so you can also see Whiskey’s face. Her forelock, which had just been released from a braid, is also sweaty and sticking up in all directions, but she looks like she knows exactly what she just accomplished. Her ears are perked forward and she’s sticking her tongue out at the camera. Bucky’s favorite part is the ecstatic smile on Gale’s face. Him and his mare and nothing but pure exhilaration. 

Bucky wasn’t the only one who liked the picture either. It’s tucked in the middle of the photo set Gale posted that night, but it’s the most shared photo from the entire set, circulating across social media platforms and even on the news. The eventing team had been invited to the Today show to talk about their Olympic success, and they displayed that very picture for everyone tuning in to see. 

Now Bucky looks around, satisfied, as the other guys find the post and instantly like it and comment on how awesome Gale and Whiskey look, because apparently he’s that kind of boyfriend now. The kind that wants anyone and everyone to know how awesome and adorable and successful and sweet his boyfriend is.  

And… boyfriend. Wow. Okay. That’s the first time he’s thought of it that way…

It makes him feel funny. A little scared and uncomfortable and unfamiliar, but also warm. It makes him… happy? Proud.

Before he can really panic too much about it, though, Croz is holding up his hand and saying “Wait wait wait, is it true that the horses fly on a plane called Air Horse One?”

Gale chokes on a laugh, blowing warm breath into Bucky’s hair where he’s still hiding his face. It makes Bucky feel fuzzy. He’s been sitting here, wrapped safe and warm in Gale’s arms as he ices his leg for quite a while already, but he’s suddenly very very aware of it. 

“Yes and no,” Gale says.

“Air Horse One exists,” Benny explains. “But our horses didn’t fly to Paris on it this year.”

“Well what’s the fuckin’ point then?” Curt exclaims.

Gale shrugs. “Just kinda depends what company is available to fly ‘em. It’s pretty much the same treatment no matter what.”

“Didn’t you say the horses have passports?” Bucky asks. Almost experimentally, he leans forward, out of Gale’s hold, under the guise of taking the ice off his leg. He quickly realizes, though, that he really misses the warmth and security of Gale’s embrace, and that information assaults his brain with all the subtlety of a freight train. He doesn’t know why. He doesn’t know why he can’t just admit that he loves this guy and be okay with that and let himself be happy and not question it anymore. But every single time he feels himself coming to a new realization about it, it throws him off guard.

Just let yourself be fuckin’ happy, you idiot, he thinks. 

He realizes Gale is answering his question. “Yeah, they all have to have a passport to travel internationally. Just like us. Whiskey’s technically been to more countries than I have.” Benny scoffs from the floor below them.

Curt gets up and takes the ice pack from Bucky. “You good?” he whispers, no doubt seeing the startled look on his face. He also accepts the medal that Gale hands back to him. 

Bucky nods as he leans forward, basically folding in half as he stretches his leg out, then rubs at the joint.

Gale, who, of course, noticed the concerned exchange between Bucky and Curt, puts a gentle hand on Bucky’s shoulder. “You need heat next?” he asks.

Bucky’s heart stutters because yes he does need heat, and of course Gale thought about that and wants to make sure Bucky has what he needs because he’s thoughtful and sweet and it’s not like anything Bucky has ever had before. And why does Bucky feel emotional about that?

And Gale and the others were having a totally different conversation but now everyone is looking at Bucky instead because he got freaked out and pulled away and Gale got concerned because of course he did and now Bucky’s face feels hot.

So he just nods and looks at Gale and sees those beautiful blue eyes looking back at him, wide and sweet and concerned. “Yeah,” Bucky says quietly. “Yeah, heat would be good.”

Curt gives him a knowing look, flicking his eyes from Bucky to Gale and back, that says almost exactly what Bucky just told himself: stop overthinking this and just be fuckin’ happy that this amazing guy likes you. Curt knows everything Bucky has been through in the last several years. He knows how stupid Bucky can be. And he knows that Gale is one of the best things that could ever happen to him. If Bucky would just accept that.

“I’ll get the heating pad,” Curt tells him, with another look that says now lean back into his arms and quit bein’ stupid.

So Bucky does. He sighs, and he lets himself lean back, and Gale’s arm immediately wraps back around him like it belongs there, and then gentle lips are being pressed to the top of Bucky’s head. And Bucky lets himself smile again.

“Wait what country has Whiskey been to that you haven’t?” Croz asks, now that the attention is off Bucky again.

“Austria,” Gale replies. “That’s where she was born.”

Benny pops his head up and looks, surprised, at Gale. “She was born in Austria?! I thought she was born in Germany.”

“What?” Gale laughs. “Just ‘cause she’s a Hanoverian?”

“Well, yeah,” Benny nods.

Gale shakes his head. “No. Austria. I’ve been to Germany.”

“You imported your horse from fuckin’ Austria?” Brady asks, incredulous. This makes Bucky snort, because clearly Brady knows nothing about these ridiculous equestrian folk. Not that Bucky does. But he’s learning a lot.

Gale nods, and Benny adds, “My gelding came from France. Just about an hour from here.”

Curt returns with the heating pad and helps Bucky wrap it around his leg. “15 minutes, okay? No more.” Bucky nods and Curt returns to his own bed, manhandling Brady so he can sit back down. Brady promptly flops back across his lap.

“Fuckin’ equestrians,” Alex mutters, shaking his head. “Buying horses from Europe and then full sending themselves over shit at break-neck speeds.”

“Yes, that is the motto of FEI eventing,” Gale deadpans, and that makes Bucky laugh, too.

“And he’s funny,” Brady exclaims, nearly smacking Curt in the face as he throws his hand up dramatically. “Damn, Bucky. You gotta tell me where you found this guy so I can find one just like him.”

“On a plane,” Bucky says through a yawn. He grabs onto Gale’s hand, which is resting against his side, and pulls it up close to his chest, interlacing their fingers. “A very special plane.”

This somehow leads into a weird conversation about dating horror stories that Bucky doesn’t much feel like contributing to. The whole world already knows his biggest dating horror story, after all. How much worse can it get after a crazy ex forces your coming out on a global scale?

He’s started letting himself drift off instead, his eyes blinking tiredly closed as his breathing slows, and he settles even more fully into Gale’s arms.  

“How’s your leg?” Gale asks him eventually. Bucky blinks his eyes open again when he feels Gale shift, leaning forward to carefully unwrap the heating pad from his leg. The caring gesture makes Bucky feel as warm as the heat did. “It’s been 20 minutes,” Gale whispers. “Don’t tell Curt, but I understand wanting that heat just a little longer.”

Bucky smiles sleepily. “It’s alright,” he says. “A little sore. Somethin’ fuckin’ weird happened when I landed the second to last pass.”

“I know,” Gale says soothingly. “You gonna be alright for tomorrow?”

Bucky nods. “Yeah. Yeah, I’ll be alright.”

—

Bucky has always liked rings. Any other event, the slightest inkling of nerves can have a domino effect on your entire body, and one second you’re doing fine, but the next, a bit of tension in your neck can cause you to land all wrong or smack your foot on the apparatus. Next to no one, for example, ever wants to start all-around on pommel horse, because if you are anything other than completely relaxed and perfectly focused, the odds are high that you fuck it up.

Many of the other events are not much better, in that way. There’s no room for nerves or fear on the competition floor, because no matter how good you think you are at hiding them, your body will betray you. It’s Bucky’s biggest concern this season, in his first handful of competitions back after near-certain career death. He’s used to being the cockiest bastard on the floor, for better or for worse. He’s used to having next to no doubt about his capabilities. In the past few months, though, he’s found himself still battling the remnants of the anxiety and the fear that nearly kept him from returning. He fears the pain that he felt when he flew off that high bar. He fears another set back. 

After nearly having his career ripped away, after crawling his way back, he fears losing it again. For good.

Still rings are the most forgiving for people like Bucky, who have the brute strength to pour their entire being into that routine. That’s what still rings are about – pure strength. It’s about holding your body as still as can be in positions that other people think look impossible. It creates an illusion of sorts, making people wonder how it can be real. It can be almost meditative, despite the burning in his muscles. All he has to do is hang on and channel the wayward energy in his mind and body into staying still. No matter what Bucky is feeling, he can pour it all into rings and it’ll hardly cost him a thing.

In Tokyo, it was anger. He became known for “angry gymnastics” after his sister died. Between that and the pandemic, he was mad at the whole world, and he shoved all of that emotion into his gymnastics. He limited his focus to one event, and then another, making sure every single move was perfect, crisp, strong out of pure spite and adrenaline. He pushed his way through all of it, straight-faced and with a sheer determination to keep going. Don’t look around, don’t look back, don’t look forward, just do.

The rings are served well by that kind of emotion, and that’s what got him his first silver medal on this apparatus three years ago.

He’s not angry anymore, though. That’s another thing the commentators have caught on to. He’s not angry. He looks like his normal, cocky, carefree self, just having fun out there. The angry, rough gymnastics he was doing three years ago has refined itself into something elegant, strong, unbreakable. He came out the other side somehow better than before, they say. 

He’s not angry anymore. But he isn’t always carefree either.

He’s relieved all he has left is rings. Because he’s worried anything else would betray the anxiety slowly creeping over him, the exhaustion weighing him down, the pain crawling up his leg like a vine. He can try to push it away, convince even himself that he doesn’t feel it. But the apparatus always knows. The body always knows. Even if your mind doesn’t. If Bucky’s learned a single lesson through the process of returning to the gym, it’s that.

In the hall outside the warm-up gym, Beacon keeps gently booping John’s bad leg like he knows something is wrong with it before staring up into John’s eyes and wagging his tail. Don’t be dumb, he seems to be saying. Don’t hurt yourself.

“I know, bud,” Bucky says, reaching down to pat Beacon on the head with an encouraging smile. “I’ll be alright, though.”

“The dog’s tryin’ to tell you something,” Curt points out as he sits on the ground beside Bucky, stretching out his hamstrings. Rings and vault finals are on the same day, so Bucky and Curt arrived at Bercy arena together, bright and early this morning. “You sure you’re alright?” 

Curt is still worried about the way Bucky landed on that pass yesterday. It was just the right kind of slightly off that it could easily have screwed up something in Bucky’s knee, and he’s concerned that it was something more than some ice and heat last night could fix.

Bucky just shrugs as he straps on his brace. He’d been debating over whether or not he should wear it for rings, since the entire routine relies on upper body strength alone aside from the dismount. But after yesterday, even he can admit that the brace is probably a good call right now.

“It’s a little sore,” he admits. “I mean, I’ve done three all-arounds and an extra floor routine in less than a week. I think that’s to be expected.”

Curt frowns and pauses his stretching to sit up and look Bucky in the eye. “Would you tell me if it was bad?” He knows what it is to push through pain to hit that one more routine. Just one more vault. One more pass. It’s the nature of the sport, always has been. That toxicity of gymnastics might be getting better now, but every athlete is the same. Every gymnast. Just one more. I can do one more.

Bucky shrugs again. “I’m fine, Curt. Just one more event. And it’s my best.”

He smirks before kneeling down in front of Beacon and giving the dog a good scratch and a kiss on the head. “Got my good luck charm and everything. What can go wrong?”

He pats Curt on the shoulder, and he hopes to God he’s right.

Today is Bucky’s fifth day walking through that doorway to thunderous applause in Bercy arena, and no matter what, it always feels surreal. Today is his last day in this stadium, and Bucky takes a deep breath as he walks out, smiling brightly and taking it all in one last time. He knows better than anyone that the career of a gymnast is uncertain. He hopes this isn’t his last Olympics; he thinks, if he plays his cards right, he could make it to LA. But there are no guarantees in this sport, or in any sport, especially after the injury he’s had. So he looks around him at the Olympic rings on the walls and the packed stadium cheering “USA! USA! USA!” as he walks out. And he actually lets himself think, for a moment, about how goddamn lucky he is to be here.

The Tokyo Olympics were a mess for him, between COVID and the death of his sister looming over him. Paris has been the exact opposite, with team and individual success, good times with his friends, meeting Gale, getting to actually be with other people. He has loved every single moment.

Despite having to prepare for vault finals, taking place in just a couple of hours, Curt manages to leave the back gym and get to the competition floor for Bucky’s turn on rings. He stands to the side of the rings podium with the coaching staff, calling out things like “You got this!” and “Show them what’s what” and “Just remember, you’re a fuckin’ Greek God! Buck said so!”

Bucky chokes as he takes a drink from his water bottle, looking over at Curt and mouthing what the fuck?

“It’s true! He did!” Curt yells back.

Bucky laughs and shakes his head. Somewhere inside, he knows Curt said that on purpose to get him to relax, but hey, if it works it works. His eyes scan the crowd as he adjusts the ring grips on his hands and rubs chalk over them. He quickly finds the rest of his team, and right beside them are Gale and Benny, who have taken the time to be here this morning before rushing to Versailles to watch equestrian in the afternoon. 

Bucky waves, as has become custom this week. As if he can’t start his routine without waving. Gale smiles at him and waves back. 

“Go John!!!!” Benny yells. He’s quickly joined by the other gymnasts, who get to their feet and jump up and down obnoxiously, yelling his name. Bucky shakes his head and re-focuses on preparing for his last event of the Paris Olympics. He checks his brace one last time.

When the green light finally comes on by the judges’ table and the announcer calls his name, he salutes, and then he jumps up to grab the rings. His coach grabs his legs from behind and lifts him higher while he adjusts his hold, then eases him down so he’s hanging from the rings, arms straight. Bucky’s on his own. 

He rotates himself upwards, keeping his whole body perfectly straight, so his legs swing up over his head and then back down again in a full 360, leading into his first strength hold, a cross. “The iron cross,” they call it, because the gymnast is meant to look immobile, still as a statue, a pillar of strength. Bucky has spent years perfecting it. He spreads his fingers out, letting go of the rings so his hands rest flat on them, just to show off a little. It’ll make the commentators laugh, because even though it’s such a small gesture, it’s so characteristically John – a little bit of a show-off.

He lets himself drop down, feeling that familiar pull straining his shoulder muscles before he pulls his hips upward, folding himself in half with his upper body upside down, legs straight, toes pointed towards the ground. He holds himself like that for just a moment, gathering his strength, before launching himself upwards, flipping his legs up towards the ceiling so he’s upside down again, landing in an inverted cross. His muscles ache as he holds himself up, arms out to the sides as straight as possible.

Don’t wobble, he thinks, trying to keep his legs still and straight, toes pointed towards the ceiling. 2 seconds. Each strength hold must be held for 2 seconds, but sometimes those 2 seconds feel like forever.

Letting himself drop out of the hold with a quick exhale of relief, he throws himself into a couple of swing elements, flipping around first in a tucked position and then in a piked position until he stops stock still in a perfect maltese. His body is perfectly parallel to the floor, his arms extended below him, holding him steady. One. Two. 

From there he sinks down until his body is level with his arms, his arms out to the sides. A maltese cross. One. Two. 

Relax. Drop, hang upside down. Flip up into a handstand. Hold. Drop. Up into another handstand. 

And then the kicker. The skill that, if he can hit, will indisputably secure him another medal in this event. It’s the reason his difficulty score is the highest of anyone here. The reason he qualified first in the world for rings. 

He used to flip himself up into another maltese cross, impressive and highly valued in itself. But before his accident, he’d been working on another skill that he’s wanted to achieve for years. When he came back to gymnastics after months of being told he never would, with his leg giving him grief but his upper body strong as ever, he threw himself into perfecting this skill because, if absolutely nothing else, he still had rings.

First he does another swing element, flipping himself up until he stops, perfectly immobile, in another cross. One. Two.

Then ever so slowly, he tilts himself back, his legs extending out in front of him until he’s parallel to the ground again but facing upward. His arms are extended out to the side, level with the rest of his body. An inverted maltese cross.

His shoulders burn. His core. His back. His everything. But this skill has been attempted by so few, and done well by almost none, that of course John Egan took one look at it and went “I can do that.” 

So he did it. He’s doing it.

He competed the skill in qualifying, but chose to omit it from all around in an attempt to save his upper body. He made the decision to bring it back today, because he can’t resist a little showing off. And, he won’t lie, he wants that damn gold medal. It’s only the third time he’s ever performed this skill in competition – once at Trials, and twice in Paris, and he grits his teeth and forces himself to breathe through it as the two requisite seconds seem to pass in slow motion. One… Two…

But finally, they do pass. Fighting the urge to gasp in relief, he lowers himself out of the strength hold and flips up to one final handstand. A couple flips on the rings to build momentum, and then he’s launching himself up into his dismount, flipping and twisting through the air until his feet hit the ground and he sticks the landing perfectly.

The moment his feet hit the mat, the entire arena is cheering and applauding for what he just accomplished. Even in a foreign country, an unmistakable chant of “USA! USA! USA!” goes up around the stadium for John Egan. He forces a smile, feeling a sense of pride wash over him for a fraction of a second. It’s just too bad that it can’t last, because the moment his feet hit the mat, no matter how perfect of a landing it was, he felt the pain.

Pain shooting up through his left leg, filling him with some instant, vague sense of dread and nausea that he knows he has to push through right now.

He keeps that damn smile on his face. And why not, he just gave the best rings performance of his life. He hit the skill he’s dreamed of hitting for years. He’s in Paris, and a French stadium is blaring with a chant for the United States, for him.

He salutes the judges, because he isn’t officially done with the routine until he does. He pumps a tired fist in the air. It’s uncharacteristic, not like his typical scream of “LET’S GO” as he hypes up the crowd, much like he did after floor. But he just… can’t. He can’t right now.

“Fuck,” he mutters instead. 

He needs…

He needs…

He lowers himself slowly to the ground with a grimace, pulling his left knee up close to his chest as he leans back on his left hand. Then even that is too much, and he lets himself fall onto his back so he’s staring up at the ceiling, staring up at the bright lights that blind him.

“Bucky!” Curt yells from the side. “John?”

The USA chant disintegrates into nothing as the stadium goes silent.

...

...

Please don't be mad.

Much of Bucky's rings routine comes from Asher Hong's in 2023 (right through the first maltese cross)

After the maltese cross, I have Bucky doing an inverted maltese cross (or inverted swallow), which is kinda insane

Side note: I would die for Stephen Nedoroscik ❤️❤️