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#in another life you are an olympic gymnast
woso-dreamzzz · 2 days
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Breakfast VII
Ellie Carpenter x Daniëlle van de Donk x Teen!Reader
Summary: Your Olympic debut
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Ellie can still remember her first Olympics.
She'd been sixteen too in Rio.
But her Olympics had been for football.
Yours is for gymnastics.
Daan had told you that it's okay not to reach the finals but, against the odds, the uneven bars had called your name.
Neither of your mothers pretend to know much about gymnastics apart from it being incredibly difficult and that it had taken over your life for years.
You hadn't quite cared when you missed school or a friend's birthday parties or opportunities to go on holiday.
Gymnastics was your life and when you had made the leap to senior gymnastics, you'd held your own fairly well and, now, you were here.
At the Olympics.
In an arena full of gymnastic enthusiasts watching you closely.
Ellie grabs at Daan's hand, sucking in a harsh breath as your name is announced.
You seem content though, happy even as you approach.
"It's going to be okay," Daan says, though it sounds like she's more trying to convince Ellie than herself," She's going to do amazing. This is just for the experience. There's no pressure on her."
It's a nice lie to tell but you're the only Dutch athlete to qualify for a gymnastics final.
Ellie's sure the whole country has tuned in to watch you compete.
There's no pressure from her and Daan.
There's pressure from the country.
You adjust your hand straps, chalking up your hands before approaching the bars.
Ellie doesn't get gymnastics but she does know that uneven bars are your favourite. She's not even sure if you know why but it is.
You've always loved them and multiple times, she's picked you up from practice while you're doing another routine.
She's admired you multiple times on the bar, star-struck by the confidence you have to just fling yourself off of them. She's even more star-struck when you land a series of complicated flips.
There's something impossible about the things you do and the ease at which you do them.
But those things are just in the gym, just at practice and Ellie knows practice doesn't always translate into the real thing but, as you grab onto the higher bar, Ellie can't see any terror in you.
The scariest part of your gymnastics, Daan thinks, is the injuries. She has been your mother for sixteen perfect years and every time you do a flip or a spin or some kind of complicated combination, she can't help but imagine all the ways it's gone wrong.
Your biggest injury was a dislocated shoulder when you were thirteen but you'd never had anything else but Daan had been to enough gymnastics meets to know that breaking legs and torn muscles aren't out of the question.
You spin around the high bar, releasing onto the lower one and Daan squeezes Ellie's hand.
Her eyes slam shut suddenly.
Ellie's always been the one that can't look away from you, awestruck by your abilities but all Daan can see when she looks at you is the slip you had when you were little, down the stairs and cracking your head open on the bannister.
It's not the same but it's all she can ever think about.
So, whenever you're on the bars, Daan has to shut her eyes, if only to give herself some peace of mind.
"Come on," She hears Ellie mutter next to her," Come on. You've got this. Come on."
Ellie's always been a talker at your competitions, a steady stream of commentary coming from her mouth that she had picked up bits and pieces of from tv commentators that actually know what they're talking about.
"Nearly done," Ellie says," And...And...She stuck it! She stuck the landing!"
Daan's eyes open up just as you walk off to your seat.
She hadn't watched a moment of your performance but from the roar of the crowd and the wild look on your coach's face, she knows it's good.
Good enough for a medal perhaps.
A bronze or silver would be perfect for your debut.
The waiting is tense, for everyone in the arena and Daan wonders what exactly she has missed with her eyes closed.
Everyone is waiting.
Barely anyone is breathing and you took a long drink from your bottle, eyes up on the screen.
A 14.540 would get you a bronze. A 14.700 would get you silver and Daan grips Ellie's hand more firmly than before.
The person in first sits pretty at the top with a score of 15.420 and Daan hopes you can weasel your way onto the podium.
The stadium erupts but all Daan can look at is you.
Your fists are pumped up into the air as your coach jumps around and hugs you.
"Fuck," Ellie says in awe," Oh my god."
A 15.500 puts you at the top and with only the lowest qualifier left, it's already in the bag.
It's confirmed the moment the last competitor slips from the bar and messes up her landing.
"It looks good on you," Ellie says after everything is all over.
"It's gold," You say," Gold looks good on everyone."
"It looks the best on you." Daan feels tears prick in her eyes and her bottom lip trembles. "I'm so proud of you. God, so proud!"
You tug her into a hug, holding her so close as you finally sob into her shoulder.
"I tried so hard, Mamma," You say," I just want to make you happy."
"You make me so happy," Daan says, cradling your face," All the time. You make me so happy and so proud."
"We'd have been proud of you even if you came last," Ellie says, joining the hug.
A little laugh escapes you. "But the gold helps, right?"
Ellie winks. "Gold always helps."
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themiddleofmichigan · 5 months
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If Palmetto State has a men’s gymnastics team, I just know that head coach goes to exy games and seethes. A short student athlete with crazy upper body strength, the ideal build for men’s gymnasts, and he’s a goalie. Goalie, the position with the tallest players in every sport that it exists in.
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mclqren · 5 months
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UNFORGETTABLE ★ CL16
PAIRING ✦ charles leclerc x fem!gymnast!reader
SUMMARY ✦ after attending one f1 race, you simultaneously manage to embarrass yourself in front of and impress a certain f1 driver [ SMAU ]
WARNINGS ✦ cursing
REQUESTED ✦ here!
NOTES ✦ for the purpose of this fic, the reader is going to represent america in the olympics for gymnastics. i made the reader have a private insta account for this fic & a main, just to fit in with the 'private life' aspect. the fc i've used is isabela juliana, but feel free to picture whoever you want! my requests are open so feel free to leave a request :)
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liked by yourbsf, simonebiles, and 237,901 others
yourusername flowers are the key to my heart 🔐💌
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user1 STUNNERRR!!
user2 if the whole gymnastics thing doesn't work out, you could literally have a career as a model because damnnn!!
user3 the flowersss 🥺🥺
user4 is she going to the olympics this year??
user5 yess!! can't wait to see her 💗💗
simonebiles my girl wowwww 😍😍
yourusername my lover fr 💓💓
yourbsf GORGEOUS
yourusername LOVE YOU!!
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liked by yourbsf, simonebiles, and 124 others
yourfinsta sushi night & trying to figure this f1 shit out before this weekend 🍣😱
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yourbsf SINCE WHEN ARE YOU GOING TO WATCH F1
yourfinsta HAVE I NOT TOLD YOU
yourbsf NOOO???
yourfinsta FERRARI INVITED ME AS A PADDOCK GUEST SO I GUESS IM GOING
yourbsf you better message me ALL ABOUT IT
yoursibling you're the luckiest bitch alive.
yourfinsta yeah except i know NOTHINGG about f1 pls drop by my apartment and teach me ☹️
yoursibling fine fine im on my way
yourusername
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( caption one: about to moveeee ✈️ | caption two: i apologize in advance for my limited formula one knowledge 😔 )
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liked by yourbsf, yoursibling, and 201 others
yourfinsta third slide is me after embarrassing myself in front of one of the most good-looking guys alive?? i swear i knew his name i just panicked when someone asked me 😭
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yourbsf HOW DID YOU NOT KNOW WHO CHARLES LECLERC WAS
yourfinsta YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND IT WAS SO EMBARRASSING ESP WHEN HE BROUGHT IT UP AGAIN LATER??
yourbsf he brought it up AGAINNN?? oh he likes you.
yourfinsta NO HE DOESNTT HE WAS PROBABLY JUST AS EMBARRASSED AS I WAS.
yoursibling the caption??
yourfinsta it's a long story. i'll tell you when i get home
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liked by charles_leclerc, simonebiles, and 301,121 others
yourusername i had such a good time w ferrari this weekend: thank you sm for having me!! (ps. yes i do know who both drivers are 🤣)
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user9 the caption 🤣🤣
user10 you have to praise the girl for owning her mistake!
user11 STUNNERRR
user12 so why isn't she training then...
user13 ppl are allowed to take breaks - leave her alone!
user14 the flowers are so on y/n's brand
user15 righttt!! she's so spring i can't explain it
scuderiaferrari it was lovely to have you with us, y/n!
yourusername thank you for having me! ❤️❤️
user16 okay but why couldn't they have chosen someone who knows about f1 instead of someone random girl off the street?? like at least pick someone who's WATCHED the sport, and knows the drivers names.
user17 tons of people who haven't watched the sport get invited all the time. she said when she was there that she didn't have too much knowledge on the sport, but wanted to learn more about it, hence why she accepted the invite. she said she forgot their names momentarily because she was panicked by the larger crowd, so maybe leave off her for a minute! 💓
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yourusername
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( caption one: back again 😴 | caption two: thanks for the gift 😉 )
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liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz55, and 292,102 others
yourusername another crazy weekend later...🏎️
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user22 she's so luckyyyy wth!
user23 TWO F1 RACES IN A ROW?? WOWWW SOMEONE'S POPULAR
user24 AND THE HAT? it's def charles asking for her
user25 the outfitttt wow 😍
user26 she's literally so pretty
user27 STAY AWAY FROM CHARLES
user28 girl what.
charles_leclerc the bag 😉
yourusername yes yes you bought it for me thanks babe 🤣💓
user29 A GIFT? 'BABE'? WHATTTT
user30 WOAH WHAT IS THIS
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liked by charles_leclerc, yourbsf, and 280,111 others
yourusername back to training at last 🤸‍♀️
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user31 back to your rootsss!!
user32 my fav gymnast
user33 WE'VE BEEN WAITINGGG i can't wait for the olympics
user34 SAME!!
user35 wowww she's stunning!
user36 is this charles' girlfriend then or-
user37 nope! nothing's been confirmed right now - they might just be good friends!
simonebiles YOU ARE EVERYTHINGGG!!
yourusername I LOVE YOU 💗
charles_leclerc i could do that 🤣
yourusername fighting talk from someone who drives around in a car all day!
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liked by yourusername, carlossainz55, and 1,894,012 others
tagged yourusername
charles_leclerc turns out the key to heart is to actually just buy her flowers 🤷‍♀️❤️
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user42 MAMA Y PAPA
user43 UR SO REAL FOR THISSS
user44 DAMN Y/N IS BEING SPOILTTTT
user45 AS SHE SHOULD BEEE!!
user46 POWER COUPLE ALERTTT
user47 gymnast x f1 driver is NOT a trope i was expecting but i love it!!
yourusername the flowers are the only reason we're together.
charles_leclerc WHAT
yourusername wish i was kidding, i'm just a sucker for nice flowers 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️
yourusername ALL JOKES ASIDE im so grateful 💗
landonorris barf 🤮
yourusername call me when you get a girlfriend x
user48 SHE'S FRIENDS W THE PADDOCK TOO??
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liked by charles_leclerc, simonebiles, and 381,229 others
tagged charles_leclerc
yourusername it's no longer acceptable to forget your name anymore ☹️💓
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user49 MY NEW FAV COUPLE ON THE GRID
user50 im OBSESSEDDD
user51 pls call me if he fumbles you ☹️
user52 NO REALLL im always here y/n ❤️❤️
user53 THE THIRD SLIDE PLEASEEEE
user54 love a woman who's obsessed w her man 🙏
simonebiles if he hurts you im always here (to date you)
yourusername my ACTUALLL wife 💍💍
charles_leclerc im so lucky ❤️
yourusername you mean you're lucky i liked the flowers.
charles_leclerc you're still on about this??
yourusername YOU THINK IM JOKING?? flowers are my life. i would die for flowers. it's the only reason we're together 🤣💗
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1K notes · View notes
ham1lton · 6 months
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her silly rabbit.
pairing: lando norris x gymnast!reader.
faceclaim: simone biles.
warnings + summary: nothing. just lando being the most supportive wag ever. he gets down… he don’t play. irl mr biles needs to be acting like this. bare minimum fr.
author’s note: just realised this is barely about gymnastics. omg. but i hope this is a decent enough smau for you 😍❤️
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liked by yourbffsuser, landonorris and 1,383,729 others
yourusername: just an average day for me. practice, the presidential medal of freedom and a late night dinner with my greatest prize 💕
view all 87,928 comments
landonorris: I LOVE YOU 😍😘🤤❤️
-> yourusername: i love you too babe!!!
-> landonorris: OMG YOU NOTICED ME…. putting this in my bio. y/n noticed x163 😍🤤😘❤️
user2: Y/N I LOVE YOU!!!
landonorris: that’s my girlfriend guys 😍
-> danielricciardo: are you sure… be honest yourusername… is he paying you? blink twice if you’re being held hostage.
-> landonorris: you guys never let me have anything 😒😒
user1: lando is so in love with her it’s so cute!!
-> user5: need me a man like lando fr.
-> landonorris: too bad. i’m taken by the love of my life. so unfortunate for you.
-> user5: … throuple?
user3: you inspired me to pursue gymnastics!! and i’m attending college on a gymnastics scholarship thanks to you!! 💕
-> yourusername: omg!! i’m so proud of you!!! this is incredible news!! so excited to see you grow and learn more. it’s so worthwhile i promise. even the harder days are worth it. wishing you nothing but success and happiness!! 🫶🏾💕
user4: girl why is your bf a bum 😭 like your girlfriend gets the presidential medal of freedom and you buy her three wings and some fries 😭
-> user6: no cause literally 😭 and he’s a millionaire he’s got no excuse.
-> landonorris: did you read the caption 🤨 late night snack…. i took her out for a celebratory dinner at her favourite restaurant earlier in the night. don’t worry about me and what we do.
-> user7: lando don’t play when it comes to the cheapskate allegations 😭 he said shut that shit DOWN 😭😭
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liked by carlossainz55, yourusername and 672,829 others
landonorris: me omw to the love of my life, me with the love of my life and me when i have to leave the love of my life.
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charles_leclerc: you a grown man posting this btw…
-> landonorris: no i’m not. i just pretend to be one when it’s convenient for me.
yourusername: … i’m only leaving for three days?
-> landonorris: i shall spend every day waiting by the door for you.
-> user1: what about your job? 😭
-> landonorris: this is my job. full time boyfriend. part time gymnastics wag.
user2: he’s her biggest fan!! i love this for her.
-> landonorris: i’m more than that. i’m y/n’s right-hand arm man. i’m y/n’s everything. i’m her confidant. her best friend… her silly rabbit.
-> user3: oh brother … this guy STINKS 🗣️❌
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liked by lewishamilton, zendaya and 792,139 others
yourusername: another olympics down!! this achievement is so incredible!! i want to thank everyone who helped me to get this position. your support was invaluable.
also to my right-hand arm man. my everything. my confidant. my best friend… my silly rabbit? landonorris. this wouldn’t be possible without you. i love you. flower creds go to him 💕.
view all 67,938 comments
landonorris: i’m so proud to be your boyfriend 💕
-> alex_albon: a normal lando comment under a y/n post? this is an unprecedented turn of events
-> user1: so weird not to see him frothing at the mouth under her posts….
-> landonorris: too busy spending time with my super successful and hot and sexy girlfriend in person. only true bad bitches can understand me.
user3: we love you!! so proud of you here in (your country’s name).
*liked by yourusername*
landonorris: last picture is me if having the best gf in the world was an olympic sport 😍😍😘😘🤤🤤💕💕🗣️🗣️
-> user2: how is your gf the literal gymnastics goat and you have no wins?
-> landonorris: STAY OUTTA GROWN FOLK BUSINESS!
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liked by beyonce, bellahadid and 1,383,982 others
yourusername: if you had told the little girl in the first photo that one day she would be time’s person of the year, the most decorated olympic medalist and engaged to the love of her life, she wouldn’t have believed it.
check out my interview with TIME magazine out now! 💕
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user1: you look incredible!!! so beautiful!!!
user2: lando truly beat the cheapskate allegations with that massive rock on her finger.
-> user3: only the best from her silly rabbit.
*liked by landonorris*
user7: her going in to how much gymnastics helped saved her life is gonna make me cry. she’s so inspirational 🥺
-> user8: she’s truly the best person to have cover TIME magazine.
landonorris: brb buying a million of these magazines and plastering them all over my walls.
landonorris: MY FIANCÉE LOOKS SO GOOD IK Y’ALL JEALOUS 🤣🤣
-> user4: we are jealous!! spare another diamond ring for a poor suffering college student 🥹
-> user5: oh naw… he’s gonna become even worse now the baddest bitch is his fiancée 😒
beyonce: you look beautiful. so proud to have seen you grow <3.
-> yourusername: 🥹💕💕
user8: SHE’S OFF THE MARKET??!!! NOO!!!
-> user9: just fell to my knees in the middle of walmart.
-> user10: i waited three and a half years… white man did it in one week….
landonorris: text me back btw… need to know which birkin you’d like 😍
-> user5: WE GET IT!!! YOU’RE RICH!! 😒🖕🏼
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bonus:
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notjustjavierpena · 1 month
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Peek
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Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator
A/N: Haven’t written about these two for a while! I hope you enjoy!
Summary: Joel finds an excuse to get out of watching the Olympics but only so he can go upstairs and find you getting ready to go out while listening to the summer’s biggest album.
Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader/you (no y/n)
Tags: +18 smut, basically pwp, dad’s best friend, age gap, immorality kink, dirty talk, groping, fingering, possessive behavior. pet names, Daddy kink, unprotected piv sex, rough sex, anal threat, creampie, y2k vibes, brat summer
Word count: 4.2k
Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/58023772
Peek
The TV is loud in your father's living room as the Olympics are on but Joel can concentrate on nothing but the thought of you being upstairs even if he had looked forward to seeing the competition in gymnastics this afternoon. He is here because it is tradition to watch whatever sports are on during the summer with your father, his best friend, but nothing feels the same since he started seeing you behind his mate’s back.
Carefully, he shifts his weight on the leather couch cushion, the heat of Texas making the material stick uncomfortably to the slightly exposed skin of his thighs. It creaks as he changes his position, leaning forward to grab his near-empty beer and sneak a look at your dad out of the corner of his eye. He tries to figure out if he knows that Joel has had his face buried between his daughter’s thighs just yesterday but he doesn’t even flinch, too absorbed in the intricate routine on the screen.
He leans back again and takes a long sip of the bottle in his hand, emptying it in case he has to think of a reply to a sudden question about you. It doesn’t come but instead, he receives a raised brow.
“You sure are thirsty there, Miller,” he says with a gentle grin, playful and normal in everything he does so that Joel may relax a little more. He laughs with embarrassment in return, a blush of guilt that he hopes is taken as shame creeping up from under the neck of his t-shirt.
“Hot day,” he answers simply. He covers up his train of thought with a conversation, “Did you see that landing? That was something else.”
Your father seems satisfied with that answer to the degree where he turns back to the television, “And that dismount. They’re gettin’ better and better each year.”
Joel follows his line of sight, fixated upon the tight suit of a female gymnast, and chuckles under his breath. He puts the bottle back on the coffee table, knowing he is no better than that; he can almost hear your soft laughter from upstairs as you chat with someone on the phone, can almost feel the warmth of your gorgeous body against his. This push and pull between what he should do and what he wants to do is slowly driving him to insanity.
Your father slaps the armrest in excitement as another woman does her routine without faltering, “Did you see that? Gold medal for sure.”
“Yes,” Joel lies like he has gotten so good at lately, for the first time in his entire life not very interested in sports, “Best thing I’ve seen so far, think you’re right.”
He is more busy with thinking about how to act in case you make your way downstairs, wearing a cute sundress and smiling at him like you always do but still in a way that it took him way too long to notice. He hopes you might give him the thrill of making an appearance soon.
During commercial break, your father gets up from the couch to get more beers from the kitchen and Joel has time to glance towards the stairs. He cranes his neck to see if you are standing at the top but he is left disappointed, left to imagine what you are doing upstairs in your childhood bedroom with the Hello Kitty computer mat. He remembers the way your tits were pressed against it the first time he fucked you and shamelessly hopes he’ll get to have you in this house again just once before summer ends. Perhaps today? No, he shouldn’t want to do anything with you in this house.
Time passes. Nothing happens. It’s with relief and disappointment that he concludes that he won’t see you, with a smile as he is handed another cold beer to not quite quench his thirst.
“Five more routines to go,” your father says with his glasses resting on the tip of his nose as he looks through the program on his phone, “Sprints later. Always exciting.”
“No volleyball?” Joel hates himself for joking with a wink.
“Not watching women in tiny shorts, are we?” Joel nearly jumps at the sudden sound of your voice, blushing at his own distasteful joke, “Didn’t know you were a pervert, Mr. Miller.”
“Mind your own business, you,” your father tuts with his eyes on his phone. It takes a moment before he glances over the back of the couch, giving Joel’s own eyes a second to stare at you while he clenches his jaw at the sight of your white sundress, tied in around your waist. You look radiant, pure, and forbidden. He wants to reach out to touch the bit of your thigh that peeks out.
“Another shitty day for women,” you roll your eyes teasingly and nudge him playfully in a way that sends electricity through his entire being. However, Joel tenses up at hearing you use foul language, an inside rule between you that he cannot tell you that you’ve broken.
Your father says your name in disapproval and glances apologetically at him, “Where did you learn to talk like that? Sure as heck ain’t from me. The kids you’re hanging out with tonight?”
Joel’s grip tightens on the couch as you giggle sweetly, the sound enchanting him to the point where he thinks of everything off-putting that he can come up with so his cock might flag again. He hopes it doesn’t strain against the loose fabric of his shorts. You are doing this on purpose, teasing him relentlessly now that he can do nothing about it, and he is so turned on that it makes him feel ill.
“Oh, you old man. You can’t keep me in line anymore. I’m over 21; I can do whatever I want,” you stand behind the couch and wrap your arms around your father, kissing his cheek from behind. Joel looks at the way your ass sticks out, quickly catching himself ogling when your father’s eyes fix on him with embarrassment.
“She’s incorrigible,” he says with resignation, patting the hand that you rest on his shoulder. Joel can only imagine what would happen if your dad knew what he was thinking about.
“I can imagine her being her own boss,” he laughs to make himself feel less like a creep but doesn’t quite succeed when your dad joins in.
“Why are you here?” Joel hears him finally say.
“I’m not drinking tonight,” you begin, pulling back a little to look at your father properly, “Can I borrow the car?”
He frowns for a moment but then nods, “Alright but be careful.”
“Always am, thank you, Dad. Love you,” you peck his cheek again to feel him smile, stretching to your full height. The wind blows in from the door to the garden and Joel catches a sniff of your perfume as you leave the living room, “I’ll go change now. See you, Dad! Joel!”
You disappear upstairs again and the atmosphere shifts significantly. Your absence sends him into small talk with your father, going over the usual topics of work, sports, and family. He tells your dad about a big upcoming project, that Sarah’s doing well at college, and that he actually never really cared much for cycling despite it being a massive hit each time the Olympics are held.
“Actually, I might head up for a sec,” he says when thoughts of you have raged long enough in his mind, making him shift in his seat before pushing himself to stand. He is too curious about seeing you, too desperate to have you alone, “Nature’s calling, and I can’t wait for the commercials.”
Your father chuckles, eyes still glued to the television where they are handing out medals, “Sure thing, Joel. You know where it is. Tell my offspring to get out if she’s barricaded the door.”
Joel nods, giving a relieved smile, and quickly makes his way upstairs. His heart pounds with the anticipation of the moment ahead. As he reaches the top of the stairs, he hesitates briefly, listening for any sound of where you might be, and sure enough, he hears the faint hum of music coming from the bathroom and walks towards it.
Without knocking, he opens the bathroom door and finds you in front of the mirror, applying makeup to a song that he has never heard. The sight of you makes his erection come right back; you have changed into a pleated miniskirt that stops way above your knees, making the skin where your thighs meet your ass peek out. Above the waistline, he can see the waistband of your pink underwear and he has to adjust himself in his shorts.
“Where the hell are you going looking like that?” He demands to know, shutting the door behind him with a click. The music fades to the background as you wiggle your hips automatically.
You look up from your lips, catching his eye in the mirror, and smile sweetly while applying lip gloss. The color makes your lips seem plumper, the shine most likely to accentuate your cupid’s bow if you were to stretch your lips around his cock. You look away again, purposely acting like a brat, “Out with friends. No boys allowed.”
“Seems like you’re dressed to impress someone,” he retorts. If you were to check him out again, you would see the way his eyes are going down your intoxicating figure. He stops at your ankles, knowing how you would be standing on your toes if he touched you between your legs, before going all the way up to your face again.
You snap the lid of the lipgloss closed with a click and place it on the counter. You grab the edge with both hands, still looking at him through the mirror, “Did it ever occur to you that I might be dressed to impress you, Daddy?”
Joel does a sharp intake of air at hearing his nickname. He takes a step closer and you allow him. Without a second thought, he places his hands on your gorgeous hips and squeezes until your giggles make the upbeat song sound like garbage, “You’ll have me thinking about you all night with this skirt, kiddo. I’m not sure I’ll have it.”
“So what you’re saying is that I’ll feel your menacing presence all night?” You grin playfully, making a show of arching your back the way you sometimes do when he hits the right spot inside of you.
“I should run behind you to make sure you don’t expose your pretty pussy to strangers,” Joel lets his dominant hand slide down your thigh until he can clutch the fabric of your miniskirt. He pulls it down roughly to stress his point, covering you up as much as he can.
“You’re pulling it the wrong way, Daddy,” you tell him with a bratty grin, chewing your bottom lip to play innocent, “Don’t you want to have a peek? I’ll let you see up under it.”
“Daddy can’t promise only a peek,” he replies, making a point of his words by letting his bulge graze your ass. You push back into him to allow him whatever he wants without saying it explicitly, earning a moan that’s loud enough for you to reach for the small Bluetooth speaker and increase the volume a little. Your father must question the noise but he hopes that he simply thinks you’ve gone to your bedroom instead, letting the door stay open.
“What the hell is this garbage music?” Joel asks as he steps back to allow you to reach back effortlessly. You reach behind you to grip the hem of your skirt, lifting it with deliberate slowness. It is a teasing gesture, more about the act itself than the reveal of your lacy underwear that clings to your cunt and gives him the perfect outline.
“Stop sounding ancient,” you tease, shifting your weight from one foot to the other to strut your ass. You’re leaning forward a little to be more appealing, so easy to push forward so you have to grip the sink.
“You’re making it sound like a problem, Princess,” he replies with a chuckle. Yes, he could shove you down onto the counter but he chooses to finger the crotch of your barely-covering panties. You don’t seem to have predicted that he would actually dare to touch you in your father’s house, so you fall forward when he pulls your underwear to the side and sinks two fingers into your wet slit. He smiles tauntingly at you in the mirror, “Don’t act like you don’t cream yourself over older men like me or we wouldn’t be in this mess together.”
“What are you doing?” You ask with your glossy mouth hanging open. He turns his wrist to press against your g-spot and sure enough, you’re already on your toes with a filthy moan tumbling out your mouth. He admires the way you always manage to look stupid and cute when he touches you, and he notices that whenever he doesn’t pump his fingers inside of you, you fuck yourself onto them.
“I ain’t doing nothing,” he says casually and slowly drags his two fingers over the spot that belongs to him, the spot he always searches for and likes to stay on. The song is horrible for fucking but it’s loud enough that you can’t be heard downstairs and quiet enough that he can hear the wet squelch when he goes a little faster, “I’m just giving you something to remember me by when you’re showing your pussy to the whole world.”
“That’s not… Joel,” you say his name and he almost believes that you want him to stop but then you arch your back just how he likes and he slips his thumb between your folds to rub your clit. He has your cunt in an iron grip, flicking his wrist repeatedly to see beads of slick threatening to drip onto the tiled floor.
“Nuh-uh,” he sternly says and halts just a few seconds, “You don’t get to call me that when I hear you use your potty mouth around here. Who do you answer to?”
“You, Daddy, I’m sorry,” you whine and earn added pressure to your clit. You keen but then the song ends, and the both of you hold your breath for a moment. Courageously, you whisper, “He’ll hear.”
“Not if you shut your mouth,” Joel barks quietly back, relieved when another annoying pop song comes out of the speaker. He catches the pout on your lips in the mirror, the fake offense on your face that has his dick throbbing in his shorts. He needs to fuck you soon, hasn’t got a long time to do it before your father will get suspicious of what he is up to, but he won’t shove his cock in you before you have begged him to do it.
Then the line comes with a breathless moan, “You shouldn’t be doing this.”
Oh, so that’s the card you want to play to get fucked. He pushes his fingers deeper into you until his knuckles brush your ass, avoiding your g-spot altogether, and practically lifts you on his digits. Your whole chest lays down over the sink and counter, your whole weight on your front instead of on your toes. It must hurt but not more than a dull ache when he pays attention to your clit as he does it.
“I sure as fuck shouldn’t but I didn’t think I’d find you dressed like a little cockhungry girl in here,” he tuts and abuses your perfect cunt. God, it sounds like he is splashing with water by now.
“I-I should be with someone my own age,” your voice shakes, your walls start to pulse slowly around him. It becomes hard for you to continue your chastising, ”God, you feel so good, Daddy.”
“Yeah? Ancient Daddy should pull out his fingers and fuck you while you’re on the verge of coming for him?” Joel mocks. He pushes down and drags the pads of his fingers against your front wall on the way out. His fingers are white with your creamy slick. He smears it over your quivering slit, talking softly while you are almost cross-eyed, “I need you, baby. Daddy has to do it even though it’s wrong.”
“No,” you protest but don’t mean it. You look back at the sound of his shorts being pulled down, whimpering feebly as his hard cock comes into your view.
“Yes, sweetheart, I gotta,” he holds the base of his cock in his hand, slowly dragging the tip through your messy folds. He pushes against your ass first, chuckling darkly when you tense up and shake your head. He teases you, “No? That’s not where you want it? Don’t want to get ass-fucked with your old man downstairs? This skirt surely tells me you like taking it up the ass.”
“N-no,” you let your head hang between your shoulders, exhaling shakily, “I want it in my pussy, Daddy. Please. Until you come inside.”
Joel gives in when you ask so nicely. He presses the head against where you need it the most, slowly letting your warm walls engulf his length while you release a relieved breath. He growls from low in his throat as he buries himself deep inside, touching where his fingers have been just moments before.
“You sure change your mind quickly, baby,” he points out after starting a rough rhythm that makes his thighs smack into your ass, the crotch of your panties straining against your cheek that bounces in rhythm with his thrusts. He settles his hands on your hips, dragging you onto his cock as much as he spears you onto it, “First you say no, and now you wanna get bred? What happened to my good girl?”
“I know it’s bad but it feels so good,” you pant softly, nearly sounding animated with how you moan and groan. You’ve reached to grope your tits through your lime green top, caressing yourself greedily as you are drowned out by some lady singing about Von Dutch, “Don’t stop, Daddy, please don’t stop.”
“Fucking hate this song,” Joel grumbles breathlessly while he keeps a steady pace, nudging something just right inside of you because you fly forwards, “Don’t tell me you’ll go out dancing to this.”
“I’ll come to it,” you groan, sucking in a breath as you start to squeeze around his girth, “Gonna come.”
“Give it to me,” he demands with heavy breathing. He lets one of his hands slide up your spine until it sits on your neck. He tilts his hips forward so he can pound you, rewarded with a squeak that he finds adorable.
Suddenly, the room goes completely quiet. The both of you turn your heads towards the speaker, noting at the same moment that its battery has run out and the possibility of getting heard has upped dramatically.
None of you say a word. Joel even tries to stop his heavy breathing, putting pressure on the back of your head when you squeeze him by wriggling slightly. He makes a quiet noise of disapproval, “Stop it.”
“We aren’t done,” you whisper with a wounded whimper. You try to fuck yourself onto him, “Daddy.”
“Shut the fuck up,” he bites, listening for potential footsteps that could lead to his doom. Instead, he hears your father cheer in reaction to something on the television. Should he? He can’t go downstairs again with a raging hard-on and there’s no way in hell that he is jerking off in here alone like some perverse madman. He makes a decision.
Leaning down over your very still frame, he catches onto the tears that have welled up in your eyes and whispers, “I’m gonna fuck a load into you and you’re gonna be quiet all the way through, got it?”
You nod frantically. Joel’s hand on your hip tightens and he pushes to stretch to his full height again. He bottoms out inside of you, “If you can do that, I’ll let you come on it, okay?”
You nod again, pushing back eagerly to impossibly swallow more of him. With determination and efficiency, he draws back and slams into you with all the muscles in his neck straining to keep quiet. You feel like you have been molded into a perfect sleeve for his cock, like he couldn’t imagine that anyone could ever live up to what you are giving him right now; cheeks bouncing, spine arching, and walls clenching as you teeter on your high.
You come with a tiny whine that he’ll allow and he comes right along with you, high on the danger and the fact that you belong to him so desperately. He manages to just sound like he is doing a sharp intake of air, hinting at a growl, before he fills you with his warm seed, each pulse of your soft muscles milking him dry.
It is a dangerously addictive sensation. He pumps in and out of you until he is too sensitive, slipping out of your used cunt so he can see the drip of his load. He stumbles backward, tucks himself, sticky and overstimulated, back into his shorts, and watches you pull down your underwear and move to the toilet to not spill all over the floor.
You sport a lazy little smile, satisfaction all over your face. It dawns on him what he has done - the deprivation of it - so he tries to distract the feelings of disgust that he has towards himself, “Why are you going out anyway?”
You are both still panting. He grabs onto the sink to steady himself, feeling old as he leans against it while you pee, your knees falling inwards so you look innocent compared to what you have just done together.
“Getting a tattoo,” you reply with a dirty little smile.
That surely changes Joel’s train of thought. He straightens a little, “Of what?”
“Don’t know yet but I’ll tell you where,” you reach to point to your hip bone, measuring about an inch with your thumb and index finger. You beam girlishly at him and he feels his chest tighten with affection, “Right here. Cute, right?”
“Cute,” he manages to say as his mind automatically imagines it right there on your hip but the word comes out a little rougher than intended. He is let in on a little secret that only a few will be allowed to see. Perhaps, he’ll be the one who gets to be the very first to see it, or maybe the one who gets to be the closest.
You finish, wipe yourself, and wash your hands. Then once again, you are close to him but this time it is chest to chest. You link your arms around him, leaning close, “Perhaps I’ll get something that reminds me of that one time I hooked up with Joel Miller, my dad’s best friend.”
“Dangerous game you are playing,” Joel reaches down to graze the spot on your hip with his thumb. He is so into you that it is ridiculous, smirking as you bat your eyelashes at him and filling him with youthful energy that he remembers from crushes in his teenage days. The idea of you marking yourself for him has his head in a spin and has his cock stirring again.
“What can I say? I’m a brat,” you shrug with a grin and when you both hear your father shout at the TV again, you grin with your tongue in your cheek. Yes, you are.
“Oh, babydoll, you make me wanna kiss you,” he almost growls as he leans into you, eyes focused on your cute glossy lips as he tries to capture them despite knowing that he won’t be allowed to touch them.
“Nope, not the gloss,” you tease and gently push him away on his chest. When he tries again, you hold your hand over his mouth and he groans against your soft fingers like from not getting his way. You grin, eyes shining with affection, “Now get out so I can clean myself up. And don’t tell my dad about the tattoo.”
“Fine,” Joel gives you one last lingering look, squeezing your hip before pulling away. He leaves the bathroom reluctantly, stepping backward as he walks out the door to keep his eyes on. You roll your eyes at him without being able to stop smiling.
When he is out in the hallway again, he heads back down the stairs and into the living room. He pats the back of the sofa to make himself known in the room once more, startling your father slightly.
“There you are,” he says, watching Joel walk around the sofa, “What took you so long?”
“Got talking with your kid,” he answers as casually as he can muster. However, your father seems to be completely disinterested in whatever he has been doing upstairs.
“What? Oh, yeah. At least you got her to turn off that awful noise she calls music. Come on, you’ll miss the final run,” he says obliviously, and so Joel joins him in the chair opposite his couch to make sure he doesn’t smell how he probably reeks of sex.
.
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enwoso · 2 months
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PROUD OF YOU — alessia russo x gymnast!reader
little psa i’m not an expert in the format of gymnastics by any means, this is just from my knowledge. so if anything isn’t correct i apologise🙃
this was supposed to be a blurb from the same universe as number one fan but i got carried away and it turned out being 3k words… ENJOY!
read number one fan here
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masterlist
you felt like your entire life had led up to this moment in your life, your first olympics. twenty four years old and you were fulfilling something only your eight year old self could imagine.
you remember watching the beijing olympics more specifically the gymnastics and you knew that was what you wanted to do, even if it wasn't to win while that would be an added bonus, just being there was special and something not everyone could say they had done.
you had spent weeks, actually months in the gym. endless amount of hours spent perfecting your routines and making sure they were perfect and showcased all of your best tricks.
however it was slightly bittersweet as even though you were training for your first ever olympic which was being held in paris, it had meant you had been away from your girlfriend, alessia russo for quite some time now.
only being able to see each other on the odd weekend when you were not training and she didn't have a match, an even still those days came far and few.
but still your relationship was as strong as ever and it meant the time you did spent together was cherished and never taken for granted.
you and alessia had been officially dating for a year now and how the two of you had met was in the weirdest way possible.
you first met when you were in london and you so happened to be in the same coffee shop, alessia with her clumsiness fell over the leg of your chair sending herself and her coffee flying across the room.
you immediately apologising thinking it was your fault when really it was just alessia and her two left feet. you couldn't help but be mesmerised by how gorgeous she was but the blonde had dashed out the coffee shop in shear embarrassment before you had the chance to get another sentence out never mind ask the blonde for her name.
the second time you met was funnily enough in a gym in  kent just a couple weeks afterwards, that being your hometown but also alessia's. you knew it was the same blonde girl, how could anyone forget such a beautiful face.
you were the one that spoke to the blonde first, alessia of course having no idea who you were and not remembering you. her face only flushing when you mentioned her going flying in a coffee shop, alessia found it relaxing that you didn't have a clue who she was.
not recognising her for her football but instead just because she was a person. you never forget how shy she was as she kept stumbling over her words when she spoke to you.
as you both stood talking in the gym locker rooms, alessia stuttering out asking for you number when you were just about to leave. from that day you went on a couple dates, actually discovering who she was and what she did day to day and from then the two of of you had been in your own little love bubble.
those who were important knew about your relationship, the media had it's suspicions but you nor alessia ever confirmed the rumours that circulated.
"what's with the gloomy face" alice kinsella nudged you as you took of your head phones. alice being one of your closest friends in the team, she'd helped you a lot in the running to the olympics, herself already being an olympian helped as she had been able to settle your nerves.
a sad smile was on your face as you looked down at the text message alessia had just sent you, wishing you good luck and that she be watching. you not having a clue she meant literally.
you had it in your head that alessia wasn't going to be at the qualifiers, her schedule didn't line up and she had just finished her qualification matches for the euros next year and she had just flown out to spend a few days in ibiza with her friends.
she told you that if you wanted her to be there for the qualifying round she would be and she'd get an earlier flight from ibiza just for you but you had promised her it was fine and that she should enjoy her time with her friends as your girlfriend had promised you that she would be at the next round as she herself was more than confident you would qualify.
"just missing lessi" you mumbled, texting a quick reply before putting your phone down as alice nodded her head she understood, it was hard being away from those you love.
"i'm sure she's watching, just make her proud yeah" alice smiled as she nudged her shoulder into you again, a little harder this time as she held a smug smile. it drawing a smile from you as you shook your head at your friends childishness.
alice moving away to focus on getting herself in the right mindset as the competition was just about to begin, you slipping your head phones back in your head as you carried on the stretch.
the competition was everything you could have dreamt of, your first piece of apparatus was vault where you were up first your score being 13.833 which you were happy with, the next rotation came around and it was bars a piece of apparatus you were a little bit more comfortable on but a small mistake cost you a few marks but your score ended on a 12.833.
the third rotation was beam a peice of apparatus which was always daunting and slightly scary. it never got easier competing on beam but the routine went smoothly and your score came in at 13.500.
the final rotation was here and team gb were looking good for qualifying for team final, the last apparatus was floor and with a small step out the floor markings cost you but your final score came in at 12.466.
you had done your bit for the team and for your country. taking in every second of the competition the pure euphoria of being there knowing it would hit later on when you were trying to sleep. right now you were focused, praying the team would qualify for the team final.
just alice was left to do her routine on the floor and then you would know if you had qualified, it all felt in slow motion. she did her last move, stood tall and presented to the judges. coming off the floor and down the steps as you waited for her score.
you nervously looked towards the score board waiting for alice’s score to come through, standing next to your teammates as the judges took their time deliberating their decision.
12.733.
team gb were on to the team final, qualifying in seventh with a total score of 160.830.
you stood in shock of a second before turing to ruby and abigail. engulfing them in a three way hug as you were all in a similar position this was your first time at an olympics. “we did it!” you called out into the hug as a smile bigger than ever was on your face.
you moved over to congratulate alice, not only on the team final but also the all around final she had made. “well done alice!” you grinned wrapping your arms around her, hugging her tight.
“you too kid, your first ever all around final!” she smiled proudly as you froze. you hadn’t made an all around final. what did she mean.
“what-?” you stutter out as she pointed to the score board which was currently going through the gymnasts which had made the final.
“there look you goon!” alice pointed to where your name was, number 24. you had just qualified for the all around.
“oh my god” you couldn’t believe it, you turned to the crowd trying to spot your mum and dad who had been there watching. you waving up proudly as you held up a heart to them. turning back to alice who was still facing the crowd.
“y/n, look your mum wants you”
you hummed before turning around to look where your mum was in the crowd, her pointing towards someone next to her. your eye line following her pointing, looking up and finding their face.
“oh my god” you whispered yelled, your mouth wide open. your were lost for words but also had so many questions at the same time. how was she here? why was she not sat in the hot spanish sun?
“told you she’d be watching!” alice nudged you a smug smile, you knew maybe somehow she had something to do with her being sat in the audience watching but you didn’t care how little or how big involvement she had, you just wanted to be in your girlfriend’s arms.
“i- what- how”
“oh go and get your girl, you sap!”
the arena had already started to empty, so you found the nearest staircase you could making your way through the crowds of people still in your navy blue sparkly leotard and your slides. you smile getting bigger as you edged closer to being back in your blondes arms.
saying a hello and giving a hug to your parents as they congratulate you and told you how proud of you they were as you could see alessia stood waiting for you to get to her.
finally your mum let go of hugging you pushing you lightly towards your girlfriend, you sinking into her arms as you held onto the blonde tightly as if, if you let go she would be gone forever.
“i’ve missed you so much baby” alessia whispered into your hair as she placed a kiss on the top of your head. you couldn’t find the words to say to her, you had to much to say but nothing would come out of your mouth.
“i- how are you here? i swear you were in ibiza this morning when you called?” you looked up to her as her hands rested on your shoulders, as your were still wrapped around her torso.
“i’ve been here since last night, my flight was supposed to be this morning but i got an earlier one just so i could make it here” alessia explained but you were still confused as even though you only saw her in what looked to be the background of a hotel, you still remember seeing ella on the facetime call — so how was that possible?
“but you were with ella this morning?” you questioned, a slight crease in your forehead as a confused look took over your face.
“she’s in paris too, so is mary cause she’s just moved to psg” alessia continued explaining, you humming along but not having a clue about football but you knew that psg was a football team but that was about it.
“well i’m glad your here!”
“you didn’t really think i would miss the chance to watch my girlfriend compete in her first olympics!” alessia questioned as you rolled your eyes playfully. “and seeing you in this is a bonus too” the blonde held a cheeky smile as she looked down towards the stoned navy blue leotard you were wearing.
you slapping her chest lightly as she acted false hurt, you were stood face to face with your girlfriend and the one thing you wanted to do was plant your lips on hers, but you couldn’t not when there was stray eyes around.
not knowing who had a camera, and while you didn’t care about what media had to say. you didn’t want to be headlining at your first olympics for that reason if you could help it.
your parents had already left, you were meeting them for dinner later on in the day. “c’mon” you pulled your way out of alessia’s hold before dragging her down the stairs her hand held tightly in yours.
small complaints by the blonde that she was gonna fall, which didn’t surprise you, as you led her back down the tunnel in the arena and towards the small changing room where the rest of your team was.
you stopped once you were in the tunnel, allowing alessia’s arm to have a break as she’d been complaining you were gonna pull it out its socket, you were no where near she was just being dramatic.
you turned to look at the blonde as she placed her arms round your shoulder, there being a slight height difference between the two of you. she obviously being the taller one, only by a few inches though.
“forgot to tell you how proud i am of you” alessia smiles as you could feel your cheeks going darker. something about anyone telling you how proud they were of you always had an affect on your heart but her telling you was enough to make your knees weak.
the two of you had stopped again, this time you were only a mere few meters from the changing room, “my little olympian” her breath fanned warm over your lips as her face was inches away from you as she had backed you up against the wall.
you had been craving this moment, you had been away from her for so long but a need was now blooming deep inside your bones. a need to be pressed flush against her.
“kiss me then” you said a little bossy as you could feel her teasing you with how not only your bodies where but also how close your lips were.
alessia smirked slightly, bending her head and using her hand that has crept up to rest on your neck to pull you in and close her mouth over yours. the kiss was soft and slow, a gentle drag of her lips over yours. the sweet and languid stroke of her tongue when you opened your mouth and angled in closer.
the tips of her fingers grazed your jaw and then she was cupping your cheeks as your back was now pushed so you were leant completely against the cold wall in the corridor. tugging lightly at your bottom lip before returning to kiss you.
heat tricked thick like honey down your spine, your hands fisting the material of her expensive white top as you tugged her impossibly closer before you wound your arms around her waist.
you didn’t want to stop kissing her. you wanted to stay in the moment forever, you wanted to keep swallowing the sound she was making low in her throat until you were dizzy off it.
“i’ve found her!” you both pulled back as you glared at your teammates as she stood in the door way clearly on her way to find you but not needing to go as far as she thought, a teasing smile resting on her face.
alice had dragged you back into the changing room telling you to hurry as most of the girls were ready and that they were just waiting on you.
pecking alessia’s lips quickly you reluctantly left her hold, dawdling into the changing room to get changed alessia following close behind you.
alessia had been talking with the girls as a catch up while you got changed coming back out in shorts and a little top while represented how hot it currently was in paris.
your girlfriend sat in your cubby, you found a seat on her lap. alessia hands immediately finding there place on your lower back and thighs rubbing small circles in your thighs as she smiled at you, your teammates finishing up getting ready for the coach trip back to the olympic village.
"are you here for the entire comp?" you asked alessia as she grinned nodding her head, you pressing another kiss to the blondes lips as you heard the gags come from your teammates.
turning your head you see the teasing sickening look on the girls' face doing it just to wind you up. you rolling your eyes at them. "abi, ruby cover your ears for a second!" alice said as you sighed knowing she was going to say something she definitely shouldn't.
"thank god for them anti-sex beds in the village!" alice snickered as you flipped her off turning your attention back to your blonde lover whose hands had not left your lower back as she traced small patterns.
alessia sat with a smug smile on her face too, "she's so annoying" you grumbled resting your head on alessia's shoulder.
"good job we don't need a bed.." alessia trailed off as she whispered in your ear, your face going bright red as she kissed your cheek, her lips lingering near your skin for a split second before she whispered "i love you, and i'm so proud of you!"
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permanentswaps · 5 days
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Felix Levesque, Future Olympian (Pt. 1)
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When I first heard about the contest, I thought it was a joke. Sam Laurent, the legend himself, was searching for a young gymnast in Canada to "possess" and lead to Olympic gold. Possess, like actually take over their body. It sounded insane, like something out of a horror movie, but Sam Laurent wasn’t just anyone—he was the gymnast. If anyone could promise Olympic gold, it was him. And if there was even a sliver of truth to his offer, how could I not go for it?
I’d been a gymnast practically my whole life, pushing my body through rigorous routines, trying to perfect every flip, twist, and landing. I was good, really good, but every time I got close to the top, pressure crushed me. But here was Sam Laurent, offering to take all that pressure away, to do it for me. It seemed almost too good to be true
The application process was grueling, even without the possession part. They wanted videos of everything: floor routines, pommel horse, rings, you name it. I spent days recording, editing, and re-recording, making sure every move was as sharp as I could manage. When I finally hit 'send' on the submission, my stomach twisted in a mix of excitement and fear. What if I got chosen? What if this actually worked?
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Weeks went by, and I tried not to think about it. It was probably just a marketing stunt, right? I went about my training like usual, though part of me secretly held onto that small hope. I mean, who wouldn’t? A chance to have Sam Laurent, the legend, guide me to gold? It was crazy, but it was also everything I’d ever dreamed of.
Then, the call came. I was in the middle of stretching when my phone buzzed. I almost ignored it, figuring it was just another spam call. But then I saw the area code and froze. Heart pounding, I answered, trying to keep my voice steady.
“Felix Lévesque?” The voice on the other end was smooth, professional.
“Yes, this is Felix,” I managed to say, holding my breath.
“Congratulations,” the voice said. “Sam Laurent has selected you to beomce his protégé.”
My world stopped. I think I actually forgot how to breathe for a second. Among thousands of Canadian gymnasts, he picked me. I could already see the headlines: "Felix Lévesque, Olympic Champion."
It felt surreal as I read through the contract, my hands trembling.  There were terms, of course, strict confidentiality. I couldn't tell a soul. No family, no friends. For the next few months, Sam would be me. Then, once I was an Olympic gold medalist, I’d have my life back to myself. I signed, my signature shaky on the digital document. This was happening.
---
The day I met Sam Laurent felt like stepping into an alternate reality. I expected him to look like he did during his glory days—lean, sharp, the embodiment of a gymnast at his peak. But when I walked into the room and saw him standing there, I had to double-take.
Sam was still in great shape, but he was nothing like the smooth, chiseled legend I’d seen on TV. He had transformed into something else entirely: more rugged, with a thick beard and a broad chest dusted with hair. The years had turned him into a bear of a man. It wasn’t what I’d pictured, and it threw me off.
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His eyes, though, still held that same piercing intensity. They locked onto me, and a chill ran down my spine. He didn’t waste any time with small talk. He just walked over, looked me up and down, and gave a nod. "This’ll do," he muttered, his voice low and almost disinterested.
I was about to introduce myself, maybe even try to break the ice, when everything went dark for a split second.
The moment Sam took over, I felt a rush of heat, followed by an eerie calm. It was as if I’d been shoved into a small, dark corner of my own mind. I could still see, still feel everything, but it was like watching my body on autopilot. Sam had possessed me, and there was no mistaking who was in charge now.
“Alright, kid,” he said aloud, turning my head side to side, examining my jawline in the mirror. “Not bad, not bad at all.” He ran my—his—hands over my chest, then down to my abs. "I haven’t been hairless like this in years. Not since I was about your age.”
I felt a strange mix of pride and discomfort. Part of me wanted to speak up, to reclaim some sense of control, but what could I say? This was Sam Laurent, the legend. I should be grateful, right? Just be polite, I told myself, my stomach twisting in knots.
“Uh, thanks, I guess,” I mumbled in my mind, trying to sound more confident than I felt. Sam didn’t respond directly, but I could feel his presence acknowledge my words—more like talking past me than actually engaging.
He turned to the side, flexing my arms and watching the muscles bunch up under my skin. “You’re a pretty boy, aren’t you?” he said with a grin that looked strange on my face. “The media’s going to love you.” He paused, my eyes narrowing with amusement. “And the Olympic Village... well, let’s just say you’re going to turn some heads. The other athletes will be all over you.”
My mind stumbled over his words. There was something in his tone, a subtle hint, but I couldn’t quite place it. I didn’t know if I should be flattered or worried. “Uh, yeah,” I replied mentally, feeling sheepish and unsure. “I guess that’s good?”
He kept turning my body this way and that, sizing up my muscles. “Not bad,” he muttered, giving my biceps a squeeze. “You’ve got good definition, but you’re too lean. Gonna need more mass if we want to hit those landings with authority.” His fingers pinched at the skin on my arms, testing the tightness. “But don’t worry. We’ll have you bulked up in no time.”
I wanted to say something—to ask how he planned to do that, or at least express some kind of opinion—but the words caught in my throat. Sam was the expert here.
“Yeah,” I finally managed, feeling sheepish. “Whatever you think is best.” How could I argue? This was Sam Laurent. He knew what he was doing, even if I felt like a passenger in my own body.
“Damn right,” he said, grinning as he lifted my arm, flexing my triceps. “You just sit tight. I’ll turn this pretty face into a beast, you’ll see.”
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pitchsidestories · 2 months
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rewrite the stars II Salma Paralluelo x Gymnast!Reader
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masterlist I word count: 2472
pairings: Salma Paralluelo x Gymnast!Reader (romantic), Barcelona Femení x Reader (platonic)
You clapped your hands together. Chalk powder floated through the air around you.
One more deep breath.
It was almost time for you to go on the balance beam.
You were used to high-pressure situations but competing at the Olympics for Team USA was a whole new experience. You were basically living your childhood dream.
The usual mixture of nervousness and excitement spread through your body, leaving you with the perfect amount of adrenaline for your performance.
You looked up towards the audience. The atmosphere was amazing, but you were trying to spot your family somewhere in the crowd. Instead, another familiar face stared down at you.
A face that you hadn’t seen in years. Like a ghost coming back to haunt you.
All your focus was gone in the span of a few seconds.
“What’s wrong, y/n? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.“, Simone Biles teased you.
You turned towards your teammate: “Something like this. There is someone in the crowd that I used to know.“
Simone looked unimpressed: “There’s always someone you know in the crowd. If this person isn’t in your life anymore, they had their reasons.“
“I wonder why Salma is here though. She’s not listed under sprinters…“, you wondered, talking more to yourself than to the other gymnast.
Simone squeezed your shoulder tightly, seemingly impatient: “What does it matter? Focus on your performance.“
You sighed: “You’re right. As always…“
“That’s why you should always listen to me.“, she joked.
With a smile, you moved to make way for her: “Let’s get started. Ladies first.“
She passed you with a cheeky grin: “You mean age before beauty.“
“Oh, that’s a lie. You’re beautiful.“, you laughed as you walked behind her towards the apparatus.
Simone rolled her eyes: “Stop flattering me. You still have to go on the beam first.“
You stretched your legs one more time: “Oh, I can assure you I’m ready for it. Hope the competition is too.“
“We’ll see.“ Simone teased but smiled like a proud mum at your confidence.
“You better start believing.“, you winked at her before shifting your attention towards the balance beam.
Happy with your performance, your teammates pulled you into a hug.
Once again, your gaze wandered towards the stands without your permission.
Simone elbowed you in the side: “Not bad. Now stop staring up there.“
“I’m not.“, you protested.
“I saw it.“
You played innocent: “No, you didn’t see anything. It’s almost your turn.“
“Sure.“
You playfully pushed her forward: “Come on, superstar!“
“Stop distracting me.“, she complained with a laugh.
You grinned at her: “Go!“
Meanwhile in the stands, Ona’s mouth dropped wide open amazed from what her eyes witnessed.
“Salma, the female gymnasts are all so impressive especially the girl you know, she’s so small and yet so powerful.”, she gushed.
A mild smile crossed the forwards face, the Catalan defender was usually one of the tiniest players on the pitch, but you were even a few centimetres below her, so it was no wonder she remarked on your height.
“Gymnastics is such an insane sport. I always loved watching.”, Salma told her while admiring you from the safe distance.
This was true; however, you were her favourite gymnast to watch, with your twenty years old you were one of the older in the competition, but you had an elegance to your moves which couldn’t be matched by most of them. And you were even beautifier when the young woman from Zaragoza remembered.
“It’s so cool!”, Vicky exclaimed excitedly.
“I know, right? There’s so much work behind this.”, Salma explained to her two teammates who joined her on their free day to see the Gymnastics.
“And you met her during your hurdle race days?”, Ona asked curiously.
“Yes, exactly. I had some time to waste before my race and went to watch it.”, the forward nodded. She was reminiscing on that meaningful which was factual not that long ago but felt like it was a lifetime away.
It was hot in the hall that day, you were satisfied with your performance, and you caught a breathtakingly gorgeous girl staring at you.
Despite your height difference you were the one who took the first step and started talking to her.
“Enjoyed the show, runner girl?”, you questioned the tall athlete with a teasing smile on your lips.
“How do you know that I run.”, Salma raised an eyebrow in surprise.
“That was easy, you’re tall and athletic.”, you shrugged.
“Everyone here is tall and athletic, I could also be a basketballer.”, the Spaniard stated smiling amused.
“Okay to be honest it was just a wild guess and not everyone is tall here.”, you confessed sighing.
“Everyone except for you.”, she mocked you grinning.
Oh, of course the pretty girl was making a remark about this, still you knew that your small height didn’t stop you from doing show stopping things.
“You couldn’t take your eyes off of me while I was doing my exercises.”, you reminded her.
“Oh, wow. I was just watching.”, Salma laughed in disbelief. Secretly she was impressed by your self-confidence. Did this come along with being in team USA who was dominating this sport? This was a question the racer would like to ask you at some point.
You smirked at her, taking her in once more: “See you.“
But before you could leave, a sudden thought let you pause. You turned back towards her: “Wait… I don’t even know your name. Or should I stick with runner girl?“
“It’s Salma.“, the tall girl said politely, unimpressed by your teasing.
You nodded once: “So, see you Salma.“
“I’ll come watch your competition.“
Again, she kept your from leaving. You raised an eyebrow at her: “Again? Sounds like I’ve to see you run now too.“
Salma bit back a grin, playing innocent: “I mean the race is later today if you got nothing better to do.“
“I’ll be there. Maybe dinner afterwards?“
Your bold suggestion seemed to throw her off a bit. She caught herself quickly, a smile appeared on her lips: “Is this a date?“
“Only if you want it to be.“, you grinned back at her.
Salma seemed to think about the option for a second: “Let’s stick with dinner and we’ll decide then.“
“We’ve a deal.“
“See you later then.“, she said, turning around and leaving the hall.
You had to hold back your excitement. It wasn’t often that you met someone who matched your energy like she did.
You watched as Simone finished up on the uneven bars. She was the last one. Your team had already qualified for the finals, as expected when you had one of the world’s best gymnasts on your team.
But there was no time to celebrate yet.
You stood there in your sparkling leotard watching the familiar face from the stands approach while your teammates impatiently waited for you.
There was nothing you could do about the anger rising in your chest. The feelings of loneliness and helplessness bubbling up, feelings that you had learned to associate with the young woman in front of you.
“You! What are you doing here?“, you snapped at her.
You noticed your teammates going quiet behind you.
Salma fearlessly took another step towards you. “I saw that you were competing… and I wanted to see you.“
“Oh, sure. You thought it would be okay to come here after years of radio silence? I tried to find you for years, but it was like you just vanished. It was like I spent an unforgettable summer with a ghost, with a person who didn’t exist! “
You wanted to sound angrier, even more powerful but you were exhausted. You were tired after all the time you tried to find an explanation for her disappearance. She had left and you had to come to terms with it.
This time, Salma looked a bit taken aback, her pretty face contorted into a frown: “What do you mean? I was always right there! I didn’t disappear.“
You wanted to scream. She couldn’t possibly be serious about this.
“You stopped texting! You forgot about me… and us!“
There were no tears, just pure adrenaline-fueled anger.
“I never stopped…shit. I changed my number back then, I must have forgotten to give you my new one.”, the tall woman realized aghast.
“Oh, of course, that’s a bad lie for ghosting a person.”, you snapped at her.
“If I had been ghosting you, would I be here?!”, Salma shot back, looking hurt.
“Probably not.”, you admitted wearied.
“Also why did you never try to find me?!”, your former girlfriend continued madly.
“I told you I tried, but you stopped participating in hurdle competitions, so it basically was impossible to find you!”, you replied through gritted teeth.
“No one told you that I left track to focus on football?”, the forward shook her head unbelievingly.
“You did what?”
“I only play football now.”, she explained matter-of-factly.
“Come on, y/n, we got to go.”, Simone intervened clearing her throat.
“I’m coming.”, you assured the gymnast before turning your attention back to your ex-lover.
“Good for you.”,
“I..”, Salma began helplessly.
“Goodbye, Salma.”, you muttered. However, she wasn’t ready to bid farewell.
“Don’t go yet, I don’t know when I’ll see again.”, the football player requested, there was an urgency to her ask.
“Seems like these girls are waiting for you though. Is the freckled one your girlfriend?”, you nodded in the direction of the women who appeared to belong to her.
“What? No. Those are my teammates, nothing else.”, the Spaniard denied heavily.
“And they came to watch with you? Cute.”, you commented sarcastically.
“I told them about you, so they wanted to get to know you.”, she revealed.
“Oh, they did?”, you looked surprised at her.
“But it’s fine, we were about to leave anyway. Just wanted to see you.”, Salma answered disappointedly.
“Why now?”, you wanted to know from her, seeing the woman again who broke your heart was a lot for you to process.
“Because I didn’t have the chance before this tournament.”, the forward responded truthfully.
The honesty in her voice made you pause; your anger has blown off a little.
“When are your football games? I assume you’re in that, maybe I take a look at your new sport.”
“We’re playing tomorrow.”, she informed you.
“Salma would be so happy if you could make it to the match.”, Ona interjected smiling.
“Ona!”, your former lover rolled her eyes annoyed.  
“Is that true?”, you glanced curiously at her.
“Girl, are you blind? She’s still very much into you.”, Vicky chuckled.
“If she’s into her, she should have come forward a long time ago.“, you heard Simone say next to you.
You were a bit surprised by that revelation so you were grateful that Simone took over. You absolutely adored how even at her height, she was always the fiercest in every room.
“Time to go.“, you said quietly.
Simone took your hand into hers and dragged you a step back with her: “Yes, come on.“
Salma handed you something, her face serious. Without thinking you took the small folded piece of paper.
“That’s my new number.“, she explained.
You said nothing, just slipped the note into your leotard and left.
The three football players walked out of the hall in silence.
“Do we think she’ll be there tomorrow?“, Vicky asked innocently.
Ona nodded determinedly: “Yeah, absolutely.“
“Girls.“, Salma said with a half-smile, trying to get them to stop.
Vicky ignored her: “I say she’s not showing up. She was pissed.“
“We’ll see.“, Salma shrugged.
When Salma stepped on the pitch the next day and looked up at the stands, she was not surprised to see you sit there.
It was almost the same situation as the day before, just this time your roles were reversed. She was the performer, you the spectator.
“She’s here…“, Salma said to no one in particular
With a smile Ona snuck up to her and whispered: “I told you.“
“She still looks pissed though or is it just the sunglasses?“, Vicky asked, laughing.
All three stared up at you while you glared at them from your seat.
“Nope, she’s pissed.“, Salma noted and turned away from the stands to go warm up.
You watched the game attentively. Salma was as fast as she was a few years ago, sprinting across the pitch like it was all she ever wanted to do and you had to admit that she played with such lightness and ease, it was almost exciting. Her decision to switch to football started to make sense to you.
Once the game was over and she was celebrating with your team, you made your way further down towards the pitch, just like she had the previous day.
She immediately jogged over as spotted you.
“Not a bad game, Salma…“, you said calmly.
A smile tugged on the football players lips: “Thanks. It’s nice that you came to watch.“
“How is it? To play in a team now instead of being on your own?“
She paused for a moment. You could see in her eyes that she thought about what kind of answer to give you.
“It’s different. But I like this a lot more.“, she finally said.
You nodded slowly: “Yes, you looked happy on the pitch…“
“I feel like football gives me a lot more. I bet you get that.”, Salma smiled shily.
“Yes, I like it too when we compete as a team.”, you agreed beaming.
“I remember that.”, the football player responded fondly.
“You remember a lot.”, a slight blush crept upon your cheeks.
“I do.”, she confessed.
“Like I meant something to you.”, you added nervously.
“Because it means a lot to me.”, Salma remarked earnestly.
“To me too but you broke my heart.”, you sighed deeply.
“I never meant too.”, the forward insisted, looking deep into your eyes hoping you’d believe her.
You closed your eyes for a moment, your head was screaming all the reasons you shouldn’t say what you were about to, but you decided to listen to your heart instead.
“You can invite me to dinner and when we’ll see if I give another chance.”, you declared with a cocky smile.
“You know, I think that sounds like a deal. Let me just take a shower.”, Salma winked.
“I’ll be waiting outside.”, you announced to her.
It didn’t take long for her to come back to you. “Alright, I’m ready.”
“Let’s go.”, you chirmed.
For now, you didn’t know where this reunion would take you both. Nonetheless if gymnastic taught you one thing it’s always to take one step at a time. And right now, it was a pretty woman and you walking along the Seine. It was getting dark, the lights off the Eiffel tower were about to turn on.
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hardly-an-escape · 23 days
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sola fide | Buck/Tommy | 1170 words | rated T
tags: Evan Buckley character study, sick fic, mentions of religion, dirty jokes, established relationship, lgbtq identity
“Hey, uh, Tommy?”
“Yeah?”
“Can I ask you kind of a dumb question?”
“Of course.”
They’re posted up on Tommy’s couch, both with a weekend off at the same time for once. They’d planned to get out of the city, go for a long hike, maybe hit a winery somewhere. But Tommy’s been nursing a cold, so they’re taking it easy instead, and Buck likes that just as much as their adventures. So he’d made chicken noodle soup from scratch and brought over ginger ale and some of the violently red popsicles Tommy kept secretly stashed in the back of the freezer.
Buck’s quiet for another moment, gathering his thoughts.
“When did you know? That you were gay?” he says eventually.
Tommy looks up from the monster truck magazine he’s been leafing through.
“I don’t know that I can point to one particular moment,” he says, thoughtful. “On some level it was something I always knew about myself, even if I didn’t have the language to describe it yet. I guess… hitting puberty was kind of an awakening. Hearing other guys talk about girls we knew, or women in magazines, and realizing I just didn’t connect with what they were saying, like, at all. I guess there’s the fact that the first wet dream I had was about Brad Pitt in Thelma and Louise.” He snorts. “That was a pretty big clue.”
Buck smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. He realizes he’s twisting his fingers together in his lap and untangles them, rubs self-consciously at the tops of his thighs.
Tommy tosses his magazine onto the coffee table and takes one of Buck’s hands in his own, rubbing gently at the muscle between his thumb and forefinger. “What makes you ask?” he says gently.
“I dunno. I just.” Buck sighs. “I guess I’ve been feeling weird about it lately. Not – not this,” he adds hastily, “not us, not even a little. This is seriously one of the best things that has ever happened to me – you are one of the best things that’s ever happened to me, Tommy, I mean that.”
Tommy gives him a sweet little smile, one of the ones that’s just for him, and squeezes his hand.
“I just mean… this feels like such a big thing t-to not know about myself. You know, how did I make it into my thirties before it ever occurred to me, oh, you like guys, you might fall in love with a guy.” His voice rises in pitch a little as he picks up speed. “It makes me feel stupid, and – and out of touch with my own self. Like, what else is really obvious about myself that I haven’t realized yet, you know? Am I actually left handed? Am I secretly an Olympic gymnast? Am I some kind of Russian sleeper agent?”
Tommy squeezes his hand again. “I don't think it's that absurd to come to an important realization about yourself in your thirties, sweetheart,” he says. “I think that's a pretty normal thing, actually.”
Buck deflates a little. “Yeah. I know. I just... I've told you about my brother. That whole situation. Not knowing why I was born, never knowing that he even existed. I think all of this –” he gestures between them “– in a way it kind of reminds me of that? Like, here you go, Buck, here’s another big hole in your life that you didn’t know was there until someone tried to fill it.”
He catches Tommy’s smirk out of the corner of his eye and untangles their hands so he can give him a shove. “I know what joke you’re about to make, dumbass. Don’t even go there.”
“Okay, I’ll ask about filling your hole later,” says Tommy, deadpan, and Buck shoves him again, and for a minute their serious conversation devolves into the kind of ridiculous, juvenile wrestling match that Buck secretly loves, that he knows Tommy knows he loves. That reminds him they’re both strong and okay and in tune with one another.
They settle, eventually, with Tommy lying back against the arm of the couch, and Buck cradled against him, grateful that Tommy’s couch is wide and deep enough for them to press together, side by side.
Buck sighs again. Can’t help it.
“I knew a guy in the army. Jake,” says Tommy out of nowhere. “Very nice guy, not one of the assholes who joined up because he thought the uniform would make his dick bigger, you know? When we were in Afghanistan, he made friends with one of our interpreters, guy named Irshad. Mostly we didn’t get close with the locals, but those two – they really hit it off. Stayed in touch after we got shipped home and everything.” He shifts Buck slightly and absently kisses his temple. “When I saw Jake again, maybe a year after we were discharged, he’d converted to Islam. He said his friendship with Irshad had opened his eyes to something. To this faith. He said he felt like that something had always been there – like on some level, he’d always had that faith – it had just taken a while for it to be revealed to him.”
“Huh,” Buck says. He thinks about this idea for a while, petting randomly over Tommy’s chest and belly with one hand while Tommy’s thumb rubs gentle, firm circles in the meat of his upper arm. He likes it, he decides. He’s not a religious person himself, but faith feels like something… important. Fundamental. Feels like a Big Thing, the way sexuality is. It does feel better, he thinks, just to know there are other people who’ve discovered one of those Big Things as a whole ass grownup. He’s not sure how to phrase it. But it does make it feel better.
“So what I hear you saying… is that realizing I like dudes and getting into your pants could be considered comparable to finding God,” is what comes out of his mouth.
He can feel Tommy try to maintain his composure and suppress the snort that wants to escape. He does his best, abdominal muscles contracting under Buck’s hand, but the laughter wins out and explodes in a kind of barking cough that sounds, frankly, a little alarming. Buck sits them up and thumps Tommy on the back a few times, handing him the mug of honeyed tea that’s been cooling on the coffee table.
“Evan,” Tommy wheezes eventually, “I’m going to need you to never say anything like that again.”
“Sure, babe,” Buck says. “But just to be clear, does that mean you don’t want me to get on my knees for you?”
And Tommy is laughing again, and Buck feels so much better. Feels warm inside, because somehow, Tommy always knows how to make him feel better. How to take the disparate anxious puzzle pieces of him and turn the picture right side up so he knows how to solve himself.
(“Oh, my God,” Tommy gasps between coughs.
“That’s my line,” Buck says.)
read on AO3 >>>
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If you are a movie fan and haven't read the book yet, here are some irrelevant details from the book
Henry owns a cardigan
Arthur and Catherine meet on a Henry V play (which they named Henry after), which Catherine went to see and saw Arthur playing. She "shook off her security to disappear into London and dance all night".
Pez listens to kpop, and he got Alex into it
Nora watches drag race and got Henry into it
Henry is an Elton John fan (actually relevant in the book)
Alex is a Hall & Oates fan
Alex wears glasses (actually relevant in the book)
Henry is described by Alex as having lots of moles
Bea is the rockstar girlfriend, at the end of the book she plays on a concert and everything. She plays the guitar and is always wearing a leather jacket. She also has a fat cat called Mr Wobbles. And the queen wanted her to learn violin “since it was more proper” instead of guitar. “Bea was allowed to learn both, but she went to uni for classical violin.”
During the turkey phonecall, Henry is wearing a peely face mask
Amy is trans and has a pansexual wife
(Actually relevant) Catherine was not off in another country the whole story, just battling intense grief for her husband's death, so she wasn't present in her children's life, so they felt as if they lost both parents.
There's no king, she's actually a queen, her name is Mary and she should die (she's so so much worse on the book than the king is on the movie)
David is a service dog
(Actually relevant in the book) June bought a teen magazine at 15 and 13 year old Alex would sneak into her room to stare at the magazine (and the picture of a blonde 14 year old British prince on it).
Bea is the middle kid, Henry is the youngest
Henry is canonically on therapy and on antidepressants (since the start of the book)
I don't remember if they mentioned it on the movie but Arthur was James Bond and died of pancreatic cancer.
Alex’s favorite Olympic sport is rhythmic gymnastics
Bea had an addiction problem when Henry was about 17 (as a way to cope after their father's death) and only got herself into rehab after Henry went to her and started crying about dad was dead and he was gay and scared so she couldn't kill herself. That's how he came out to her
Alex doesn't wanna be president at the end of the book, he starts law school
Henry favourite star wars is Jedi, Alex's is Empire
June is allergic to peanuts
Alex runs and runs to cope and clear his head
He did not know he was bi until after Henry kissed him. Yes, he had a friend with benefits relationship with his high school friend Liam, but he genuinely thought it was perfectly platonic and straight
Also he doesn't keep on touch with Liam after high school (their friendship just slowly fades away, with living so far and Alex being suddenly famous) but they reconnect at the end
Alex and Henry move in together on a brownstone on Brooklyn, eventually they marry (after Henry abdicates) on the lake house, they move to a farmhouse on Austin, they spend their honeymoon unpacking
Pez is lactose intolerant
Bluebonnet is June’s code name, Barracuda is Alex’s
Henry is a big Austen fan, and makes references to her books through the story
Amy knits
Zahra has a sister who recently had a baby
June forced Alex into dresses as a kid
Henry’s favorite food is a cheap falafel stand ten minutes from the palace
Henry really likes sailing
Shaan has a motorbike
Alex is allergic to dust
Henry keeps a copy of Le Monde, the newspaper from the day they were in Paris, on his room
Alex and Nora dated when Alex was 17 and Nora 18 but realized they were definitely better off as friends. When they are bored, they like to create rumors about their relationship
Alex makes tons of lists to organize
Alex wears chinos, and claims kakhis are for white people
Nora is very good at math
Alex grew up catholic
At the end of their e-mails, Alex and Henry quoted historical lgbt love letters
Nora’s one-bedroom is “full of books and plants she tends to with complex spreadsheets of watering schedules.”
Nora is bisexual and on the aro spectrum (not canon on the book than she’s aro, but Casey did mention it somewhere)
Arthur gifted Henry a telescope for his seventh birthday
The karaoke scene happens not while on Texas but in some club full of queer people. The whole group is there, Pez got them matching kimonos. Alex’s says Hoe Dameron, Henry’s says Prince Buttercup. Aside from Henry singing Don’t Stop Me Now, Bea sings Call Me by Blondie, and Pez sings So Emotional by Whitney Houston in a “shockingly flawless falsetto”.
The lakehouse confessions happens while at night
The Kensington fight (after the lakehouse confession) is much more dramatic, they don’t go to the v&a that night, but the next night. That morning Henry got up early, and brought Alex coffee when he woke up. They made up.
Also Alex takes his coffee with cinnamon
Alex, Nora and Henry are gen z, while June is a millennial
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Barbie Girl 💄 | Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin Imagine
Takes place before, during, and after the events of Top Gun Maverick
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TGM Masterlist
Characters & Pairings: Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x Barbie!reader (romantic), dagger squad (platonic)
Content warnings: light profanity, fluff | female!reader (she/her) | wc: 4.3k
Requested 📨 yes/no (for @kayla-swiftly)
Premise: They say the sky is the limit and anything you set you’re mind to will be achieved as long as you’re dedicated to it. For most people that testimony is nothing but a mere fantasy. But for one woman, with too many dreams to count on her fingers, she took that statement to heart. Proving you can be anyone you want to be and maybe even a few others give or take 😉
Note: Anyone else obsessed with Barbie lately?? Omg y’all I saw the movie last week and absolutely fell in love and i had this request from around the time the final trailer dropped and knew it was the perfect time to write this. I know I know I haven’t been living up to my promise of being consistent but man they having me working my ass off at my job. Also I’ve been traveling and I saw Big Time Rush last night (i felt like a teenager again and it was amazing 😭) anyway I hope you enjoyed this and let me know what you think!
—————————
“Hi, Barbie!” The familiar greeting fills Y/n’s ears as it does every morning she arrives at the hangar. With it comes an instant smile, hand raising to wave at the person responsible for it, “Hi, Phoenix!”
“Hey there, Barbie,” winks another friendly face.
“Hiiii, Hangman,” her tone is playful like his, turning energetic for Bob when he goes, “Hiya, Barbie!”
“Hi there, Bob!”
“Hey, Barbie.” “Good morning, Barbie.” “What’s up, Barbie Girl.”
“Hello, Rooster.” “Good morning to you too, Fanboy.” “Nothing much, Pay. And yourself?”
Unlike her fellow pilots, clad in their deep green flight suits, Y/n stood out in the crowd for hers was a little unorthodox when one thinks of a naval fighter pilot's uniform.
It was pink. Completely as in her combat boots were also the bright color and the patchers were white and pink tones rather than red, blues, black and any other color seen in the ones attached to her coworkers arms. ‘Barbie’ in pink cursive writing instead of traditional bold Times New Roman lettering.
And don’t forget the little flower dotting the ‘i’.
Growing up, Y/n took ‘you can be anyone and anything you want to be,’ quite literally. At no point was it a joke to her when she would tell her friends and family, “oh I’m gonna be a fashion designer and Olympic Gold medalist when I’m older,” “I wanna go to space, fly in planes, and see all the wonders of the world,” “I’ll be a doctor, a teacher, and movie star!” They’d smile and laugh, thinking it was adorable for a little girl to dream big. No way would it be possible to achieve all of those careers. Everyone only gets one life to live and time goes so fast one can only set their eyes on one path and hope for the best.
But Y/n was a dreamer. And if you’re going to dream, might as well dream big.
All through middle and high school people took Y/n’s intelligence for granted. Focusing more on her beauty rather than brains, it came as an under shock to everyone when Y/n had the credits to graduate at the ripe age of 15. Exceeding in her standardized test scores with a high school resume taking up three pages with extracurricular and academic achievements, she had colleges from all over the country begging for her to apply.
Stanford. Cornell. Pratt. Juilliard. NYU. John Hopkins. Harvard. UCLA. Duke. Top medical and law schools. Ivy League universities. Performing Arts schools calling for auditions after sending scouts to watch her perform in school plays and dance recitals. Coaches from high ranking NCAA gymnastics teams sending emails after emails.
So many to choose from….And so the story of Y/n L/n becoming a real life Barbie Doll begins.
Setting her eyes in New York, Y/n attended not one but two of the best schools in the country. While obtaining her bachelor’s in both astronautical and aeronautical engineering at NYU Y/n also completed a two year degree in Fashion Business Management at the Fashion Institute of Technology. During this time she continued training for the Olympics in hopes of making the 2008 Beijing team in gymnastics.
“How do you do it?” Her roommate at NYU constantly asked. “You go from here to FIT, working on two degrees that are completely on opposite sides of the spectrum and career paths,” she emphasized with hand expressions, “and still have enough to time to go to the gym to practice, eat three meals a day, have all your assignments done early, and sleep a reasonably about of hours each night.” Letting out an exhale, her roommate looks at Y/n as if she’s an alien from another world, “What’s your secret? Are you some kind of Barbie doll the government created as a test robot?”
Each time Y/n would pause, think for a moment before smiling, “I don’t know if I should find that as an insult or compliment, but I’m gonna chose it as a compliment and say it’s because I want to live a life where I can look back on and go, ‘I took a risk and tried something new even if it didn’t look possible but it was all worth it.’”
By the time Y/n turned 20 she had accumulated a vast list of credentials to her name. The list included getting her fashion business degree at 17, Bachelors in astronautical/aeronautical engineering at 19–receiving her Master’s for it at 20–An Olympic Gold and Silver medalist, dancing with the Radio City Rockettes, performing with the NYC Ballet Company in their rendition of Swan Lake, landing a role on Broadway, walking a runway at NY fashion week, and appearing on episodes of SVU, 30 Rock, All My Children, Sex and the City, and Ugly Betty.
So yeah, New York was a success in experiences for Y/n.
Following the high note, she packed her bags to leave the golden apple for the flashing lights of Hollywood, California. This time Y/n was working on her doctorates at USC, running her own business with her fashion degree called ‘Dream Closet’, and auditioning for film and tv shows.
Hollywood was a dream come true just like New York. Again she attended two different schools, this time flight school and USC. During the day she was occupied running from class to the hangar and then the observatory. Coaching dance and gymnastics on the side, designing clothes for her online shop which developed into a pop-up chain store in malls across America.
It wasn’t long until Y/n’s name grew into nationwide popularity. People started realizing the Y/n L/n who won the Gold and Silver medals in the 2008 Olympics was the same one responsible for the most recent fashion trends and guest starring on their favorite tv shows. What really set it in stone was when Y/n landed the role of an engineer officer in the 2009 reboot of Star Trek, going on to appear in both the 2013 and 2016 sequels.
Impressive was the only word her costars could use to describe her. What else was there?
Anytime there was a question involving, “who’s most likely to become president?” “Who’s most likely to try something new or create a new hobby?” “Who’s most likely to win a Nobel Prize?” Along those lines…the answer was obvious.
“Oh Y/n,” Zoe Saldana waves her hand, “Always.”
“Yeah,” Chris Pine agrees with a laugh, “That woman, I-I don’t know how one has the energy to do all that she does—a-and still want to do more.”
The Interviewer laughs with them, “didn’t she just race in the Daytona 500 last year?”
“Yes!! And she did a song with Lady Gaga when they were on American Horror Story,” Zoe’s tone is in absolute awe, “All while teaching at USC and creating new technology at NASA.” Chris lifts a finger.
“Don’t forget she had her own Mac Viva Glam line a couple years ago.” Zoe made a sound along the lines of ‘see what I mean,’.
“I’m telling you, she’s gonna be a name in the history books.”
What all has Y/n accomplished career wise? Let’s take a look.
Model, dancer, actor, singer, fashion designer, entrepreneur, athlete, engineer, race car driver, and professor.
And now she can add pilot to the list. Although she got her license to fly way back in 2009, Y/n didn’t put it to use full time until 2016, wanting to wait until after the release of Star Trek: Beyond to say goodbye to Hollywood for the time being and set forth on her next adventure.
Boy did it come as a surprise what she had planned.
The Manila folder containing her resume hit the desk of the Admiral, his eyes wide as saucers. “You wanna join the Navy?” Reading the front page for a fifth time, Cyclone glanced back at the woman in front of him. Doctor Y/n L/n. Or is it professor L/n? “And you wanna be one of my pilots?”
“Yes, Sir.”
”Ma’am, I apologize if this comes off as offending,” he really didn’t know any other way to put it. “But you are more qualified than any person on this base. Doctorates in aeronautical and astronautical engineering from the University of Southern California,” he counts off on his fingers, “you recently developed a groundbreaking advancement in space technology that’s going to help our astronauts—on the road to becoming a Nobel Prize nominee.” He raises his eyebrows, “And this is only what relates to this career field. I’m not even mentioning your acting, athletic, and fashion credentials. Why join the Navy?”
Y/n only offers a shrug, “I think the better question is, why not?” Cyclone lets out a sigh.
“What did you say your callsign was again?”
“Barbie.”
There was no stopping the small smile trying to break free, “I should’ve guessed.”
After completing OTS there was much debate on what Y/n’s rank would be coming into the Navy. Civilian lawyers and physicians often are Lieutenants (O-3) right away, but considering Y/n had two doctorate degrees and her pilot license they felt it was only fair for her to come in as Commander (O-5). From there Y/n was sent to North Island to attend Fighter Weapons School.
Better known to its flyers as Top Gun.
Y/n was used to the looks she received on a daily basis. From head to toe she was covered in variations of pink depending on what she was feeling. When teaching her briefcase and pantsuit were baby pink, in the labs her coat was hot pink, at auditions she wore pink leather jackets. Even her race car for the Daytona was pink.
Shoutout to Mac cosmetics for the sponsorship.
So it’s no surprise her flight suit would be the color she was known for—despite it being out of regulations.
Being more qualified than your superiors had its perks.
If she could have a pink F-18 she would but unfortunately that wasn’t possible. That was okay for Y/n. After all, she managed to get her own custom flight suit. One which had everyone having to do double takes whenever she walked into a room.
“Is she wearing…?”
“How the hell did they allow that?”
“Does that mean I can have mine in purple?”
Her first day at Top Gun Y/n met Natasha ‘Phoenix’ Trace. They were paired as roommates in the dorms and quickly became good friends. Phoenix was beyond amazed with Y/n’s accomplishments and experiences. Every conversation led to a new discovery. “Do you ever burn out?” Nat stag criss crossed on Y/n’s satin pink bed sheets, admiring her wall of photos from when she traveled to see all the wonders of both the ancient and modern world. “I feel I’d be a walking corpse from exhaustion. And you mentioned you’re still running and designing clothes for ‘Dream Closet’?”
Y/n removed her diamond studs, placing them on her desk she was using as a vanity. “I have a team dealing with the business side of things for the brand. I’m still CEO and creative director—usually I work on designs for a couple hours before bed to prepare for the next launch.”
Nat was in awe, “I have to ask….what’s been the best career you’ve done so far?” A common question Y/n heard, there was never a true answer. She loved every career. They all had their perks and their flaws, but at the end of the day it left her satisfied she achieved them.
“I don’t know yet,” she spoke truthfully, “I still have a few to check off on my list. When that happens I’ll let you know.”
Fast forwarding to 2019, Y/n answered the phone to Admiral Simpson’s voice with the news she needed to report back to North Island for a highly confidential mission. The details were unknown, but Y/n packed her bags, loaded her pink vintage corvette convertible and high tailed it to sunny San Diego.
The squeals initiated by Y/n and Nat the moment she stepped foot in the Hard Deck had heads whipping in their direction. “Hi, Barbie!” Nat’s arms opened for a hug.
“Hi, Phoenix!” Y/n accepted the embrace, still grinning ear to ear. The guys around them were looking at each other like, ‘what the…?’ Y/n wasn’t in her standard Khakis like they were—minus Rooster. She bore a pink denim number with matching boots with her hair curled and pink eyeliner surrounded by tiny rhinestones.
“You got selected too?” Nat complimented her outfit before cutting straight to the point.
“For the special detachment? Looks like it,” she winked.
“What happened to the Artemis program? Weren’t you up as a candidate?”
“Oh I still am,” Y/n affirmed proudly, “They’ll be announcing who’s to be selected in the coming months. So for now I’m still with the Bounty Hunters. Plus,” she leans in to whisper, “this will look good on my resume.” The two giggle before Y/n drifts her gaze to the boggling gazes in front of her. “Oh! I’m sorry for being so rude. I’m Y/n L/n,” extending her hand to the first person who’s name tag read Fitch, Y/n added, “But you can call me Barbie.”
“Barbie,” the blonde holding a pool cue repeated like a question, “like the toy Barbie?” Nat chuckled, throwing an arm around her friend after she was done shaking everyone’s hand as they introduced themselves.
“Fellas, if there is anyone who is a life sized version of Barbie, it’s this one right here.”
“Now, Phee…” Y/n’s tone was that of, ‘Don’t start.’
“It’s true,” the pilot defended. “Not only is she Commander Y/n ‘Barbie’ L/n,” jaws drop, “but she’s Professor and Doctor L/n.” The jaws hit the floor, “On top of founder, creative director and CEO of ‘Dream’s Closet,’” Javy makes a sound, familiar with the brand, “Emmy nominated actress,” Fanboy chokes on his water, “Olympic Gold Medalist and soon to be astronaut for the Artemis program.” By now all the guys are on the verge of losing their minds.
Bob rapidly blinks, “uh—.”
“Now I’m not an astronaut yet,” Y/n points out, “I’m a candidate for one.” Nat scoffs lightly.
“They’d be stupid not to pick you, Barb,” she then slaps her side, turning back to the guys, “Oh and how could I forget Broadway, Vogue, and the Daytona 500.”
“Daytona 500!?” Payback practically screeches.
“You were on Broadway?”
“—featured on Vogue—?!”
“Wait a minute I recognize you from Star Trek!”
“—How in the hell—.”
“Guys, guys!” Y/n laughs with her hands slightly raised, “Please, one at a time.” They were in for a long night of questions and story times. And just like Nat was years prior when she first roomed with Y/n at Top Gun, the officers were in complete amazement over the woman in front of them. Never had they met anyone like her.
“Wow,” Jake whistled once she finished bringing them up to date on her most recent careers. “You really are a real-life Barbie.”
“Shhhh,” a finger went to her lips, followed by a wink, “don’t tell Mattel.”
And thus the dagger squad was formed. Two and half weeks of hell bearing training preceding a face-with-death mission brings people closer. Every morning Y/n arrived at the hangar to a chorus of “Hi, Barbie.”
She waved at Reuben, “Hi Payback.”
“Hey there, Barbie Girl,” Javy threw her a peace sign.
“Hiya, Coyote!”
“Good morning, Barbie,” Rooster tipped his hat.
“Mornin’, Rooster.”
“Hi, Barbie!” “Hi, Barbie!” Her favorite duo harmonized.
“Hi, Bob! Hi, Phee!”
And for some closer than others….
“You know I was thinking,” Jake commented, taking Y/n’s hand before leading her to the pottery class he signed them up for. Every Friday night was reserved for date night. Dinner and a movie. Walk on the beach. Spending $20 worth of quarters at an arcade. Attending a comedy show. Paint and sip. Following the successful mission, Jake and Y/n hit it off and began seeing each other.
“Famous last words.”
“It’s not bad,” a chuckle left his lips, stopping at the door. “I just thought it was funny. You know how you’re basically Barbie?” His cheeky smile resulted in her mirroring it.
“Yessss.”
“This means I’m pretty much your Ken, right?” The question makes the woman visible ‘awe’. Jake ruffles a hand through his hair and gives his best blue steel, “we kinda look alike. Don’t you think?”
Laughing, Y/n kisses his cheek, “I mean…name a more iconic duo than Barbie and Ken.”
“Barbie and Hangman?”
“Exactly.” It was safe to assume what their Halloween costumes were going to be.
Time went on, missions were run. And after a year of anticipation—though it felt like forever, it was finally announced in 2020 Y/n would be one of the astronauts selected to be part of NASA’s Artemis program launching in 2024.
Making Y/n the first woman to go to the moon.
The call came in from a restricted number when they were in a meeting, and knowing she was to expect a call within the month everyone quickly shut up so the pilot could answer.
She excused herself to leave the room, staying in front of the window so the team could see her. Throughout the conversation Y/n’s expression remained neutral to the point none had a clue whether the news was good or bad. Only when she reentered the room did they get the answer.
“I’m going to the moon!!!”
“Ahhh!!!!” The team exploded in an array of cheers, Y/n jumping up and down, careful not to drop her phone that was in her hands when Jake lifted her in his arms.
“I’m so fucking proud of you!” Despite being unauthorized to show pda in uniform, Jake gave her a big kiss on the lips, not caring who saw. “You are the most exceptional human being on this planet.”
“Jake,” tears welled in her eyes, which he kissed away. Her heart filled with warmth and gratitude. Feeling on top of the world with her closest friends supporting her.
Once all calmed down and they finished the meeting, Mickey jumped from his seat, “Come on Barbie, let’s go party!” Everyone sped to the Hard Deck to celebrate the news. Mav bought the first round, followed by Payback.
“Guys you don’t have to do all that,” Y/n said once she realized they all agreed to buy her drinks for the night.
“We want to,” Nat tapped her beer with Y/n’s cocktail glass, the guys voicing agreements. “For years you’ve been dreaming about this and it’s finally happening. Your hard work is paying off and we want to celebrate—show you we love and appreciate you, Barbie.”
Y/n fought back tears, never afraid to show her emotions. Some may find it childish or thinned skin, but to Y/n that was what being human was all about. “I love you guys.”
“We love you!” The voices echoed together.
The night had been going well with the squad hanging out by the pool tables like they usually did when Y/n approached the bar to pick up the next round Mickey was paying for. Not paying attention to those beside her, she smiled at Penny and repeated the order before waiting patiently.
But what’s a night at a bar without someone who lacks boundaries.
“You must be the one they call Barbie,” a voice says, flirtation seeping through the words. Glancing to her right, Y/n recognizes a gentleman from the flight line whose name she could not recall. “You’re quite the talk around base. In fact, weren’t you in some Hollywood blockbuster?”
“Yes,” she politely responds, keeping the answer short. Though she was known to be a sweetheart and kindhearted to anyone she met, Y/n could tell where the interaction was heading toward and did not feel comfortable entertaining it any further. “A long time ago.”
“I’m Lieutenant Paul Billings,” he extended his hand, and she immediately clocked he was trying to show off his rank. ‘Boy he’s in for a treat.’
Not wanting to make a scene, she accepts the handshake. “Commander Y/n L/n,” there was emphasis on the Commander, displaying the woman was of higher rank and therefore a silent warning to Billings to not cross a line.
There was a flash of surprise on his face. Y/n held back an amused laugh, ‘guess you didn’t hear everything.’
“Something the matter, Lieutenant?”
“No,” he brushes it off, “Nothing. Say,” he nods to the bar, “can I buy you a drink.” Did he not just hear her order a round for the people she came with?
“That’s kind of you,” she starts just as Penny arrives with a try full of cold beers and her usual cocktail. “But I’m all set, thank you.” Hands moving to take the tray, she jumps slightly at the feeling of his own coming to her wrist.
“What about lunch this week?”
“I’m sorry but I am spoken for, Lieutenant,” removing his hold, Y/n takes a step away.
Now Paul had lost his reasonable composure. Scoffing, he says, “What? Am I not enough for you?” The question results in her raising a brow.
“I beg your pardon?”
He makes a face, “You think because you’ve done all these careers and occupations that you’re better than the average person? I’m not a pilot and an actor or researching the cure for cancer while creating a documentary series,” venom seeps through his tone, obviously depicting his jealousy, “Basic is not up to your standards, so you have to throw our failures in our face as if we don’t already know.”
By now a crowd has formed. Jake started moving the second he noticed Billings etching too close to his girl, followed by Nat and the others who were ready to back him up. Behind the bar, Penny was fixing to ring the bell until being stopped by Y/n’s wave of the hand.
“Are you done?”
Paul’s expression was that of, “what?” No audible response was voiced therefore Y/n continued.
“Okay, I’m gonna go ahead and say this, Paul,” Y/n drops her shoulder. The change in body language let Jake and her friends know she wasn’t taking anything that the man said personally. “I know I should be offended by your insults and insinuations, but the truth is I’m not.” A small smile forms on her lips, “I don’t view myself higher than anyone because of what I accomplished. The only person I do that to, is myself—because I don’t have to prove to no one but me that I am capable of achieving what I set my mind to. And yeah,” a light chuckle escapes, “I’ve set my mind to a lot of things—way more than the average person. But that doesn’t mean you or anyone else can’t do the same.”
Pausing Y/n takes a breath before exhaling, “You look at me, and hate the way it makes you view yourself. Makes you believe you’re a failure because you didn’t follow the path you hoped to make for yourself.” Paul’s expression shifts to one of solemnity, like he was thinking of his younger self who had dreams and aspirations. Mourning what could have been.
It made Y/n sad for him. Empathetic despite him attacking her. “One thing I’ve learned over the years…is time is what you make of it. Life is about taking risks. You can still set out to do whatever it is you wish, as long as you’re committing to taking the risk no matter how scary it is. Sure you’ll find obstacles and it’ll feel like the whole world is against you. But determination will guide you through the walls, and you will be successful so that you can look back and think, ‘it was worth it.’ As cliche as it sounds,” she couldn’t hold back a laugh, “Barbie isn’t a person or an object you can obtain. Barbie is a mindset. And you have to unlock it in your own way, Paul.”
It was so quiet in the building, a pin could drop and everyone would hear it. Their looks of awe, admiration, and even newfound motivation by Y/n’s speech. Impressed by how classy she handled what very well could have been a scream match between rival squadrons.
Behind Billings the Dagger squad stood with proud smirks at their friend. Especially Jake, who caught Y/n’s eyes and threw her a wink. Nat gave the woman a salute, a silent gesture to say, ‘you inspire me everyday.’
And Billings? Well he was at a loss for words.
Patting his shoulder, Y/n grabbed the tray of drinks, “I wish you luck, Paul.” Thanking Penny, who gave her a proud nod and replied, “this ones on the house,” Y/n returned to her friends where she was met with a sweet kiss from Jake, claps on the back and “You go girl!” “Tell them who’s boss.” “Damn, you made me wanna go out there and live life the way I should.”
“What’s stopping you, Javy?” she handed him a beer, “the world is your playground.”
A couple hours later it was time to call it a night. Hugs went around, promises to meet up the following night and tabs were closed.
On their way out, Jake dropped a kiss to Y/n forehead, pulling her close to him as he led her to the door of the parking lot, “So what’s next for you, doll? You’ve proved you can be anything and anyone you chose to be,” he grins at her, “What will you set your mind to now after space?”
“First, I want to write a book—I think that’s something a lot have been waiting for me to do. Afterwards, well, I’ll have to wait a couple more years, but,” The corner of Y/n’s lips lift up before flashing a dazzling smile, “I’m thinking….the Oval Office is in need of a makeover. Don’t you think?”
Then, before he could answer, Y/n turns her head in the opposite direction as if she’s trying to find a hidden camera. Makes eye contact with you, the reader, winking before turning back to Jake where she sets off on her next adventure.
…………….
TGM Tag List: @avaleineandafryingpan @caitsymichelle13 @poppyalice2001 @cutelittlepotatofry @luckyladycreator2 @americaarse @elenavampire21 @back-tooo-black @wildellaa @artemissunn @pinkpantheris
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sheenashifts1217 · 2 months
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Pick a Pile No.1
Welcome to my first Pick a Pile :)
This is a collective reading so it may resonate more for some than others. Take what helps you and leave what doesn’t. 💗
If you’d like a personal reading, I currently have a deal in my shop for a free five song channeled playlist with any purchase of an s/o reading. Check my pinned post for more details.😊
What Advice Will Aid Your Shifting Journey
Choose pile 1, 2, or 3
Take a breath and simply pick the one you feel most drawn to.
(Top left pile 1, top right pile 2, bottom pile 3)
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Pile 1
Lyrics standing out:
“You b**** ain’t like me
Dance in the breeze
A man with the sleaze
Stop it, get another topic
I got the nerve
And I block it
You’re a brat
Cause I never repeat
Do what I say like Simon
I’m a VIP
Sorry I’m pretty and easy to hate”
Okay pile 1, I SEE YOU GUYS!!! 💅🏼 This pile is short and sweet because you all know what you need, self aware queens. You all know your power, and as you should. For those of you in this pile who really know your power, own it more, step into it, actually practice it.
It feels like you all know what you need to do and you know you can shift, you’re just being lazy. PUT THE WORK IN. But frl, it seems like you guys really just need to set some time aside to focus on shifting and your DR because you know what to do, you just feel too busy. It’s okay to take a breath. Some of you all in this pile may also be rushing yourself. Allow yourself to accept what your experiencing and just let it flow. It’s already yours, you already have all of your desires.
Overall, pile 1, you guys are baddies whether you know it or not. Step into that power, own it, and use it. Make time for yourself and slow down a little. You don’t have to experience everything at the same time, that’s why you have a life, spend it.
Confirmation: 222, 444, Aquarius, ford mustang, hot pink, purple number 4, Elmo?, Sesame Street, Disney, neon green nails
Pile 2
Lyrics standing out:
“Trying to cover up my face
Try and stay calm
Something missing
I think looks wrong
When pretty isn’t pretty enough
What do you do?
I could change up my body and change up my face
You can win the battle
Insecure
Try to ignore it
I don’t know why I even try (I see the starfish position)
Just feel like sh*** over and over again”
Hi pile 2! You guys are giving me 2020 shiftok vibes. A lot of you probably started to practice shifting around 2019/2020 and were fed a lot of misinformation and now you feel like that is stopping you, but it doesn’t have to, let that go. You are in charge of your own reality so take that misinformation and use it as a learning experience. Don’t be discouraged because it was false or didn’t work for you, that’s good because now you’re one step closer to knowing yourself and what does work for you!
You may be a person that is on social media a lot in general or just hyperaware of others lives and you’re comparing yourself to them. STOP IT. Everyone’s experience is their own. When you see someone else’s success or experience, you don’t know what went down before that. Focus on yourself and what is meant for you, will happen. Accept it and take charge of it. You may be one who relies on others success for your own motivation as well, this is your sign to rely on yourself. Connect with your higher self and trust your intuition.
Keep going pile 2! You guys have put in time and energy this far, what’s a little longer? Your efforts are not in vain. You’ve got this. Trust yourself!
Confirmation: tiktok, iPhone, 13, dodge, dodgers, football, Dallas cowboy cheerleaders, red white & blue, Olympics, gymnastics, toe nails, 12
Pile 3
Lyrics standing out:
“Light headed
For some reason I find myself lost in what you think of me
And too confused who I should be
In a big old world
We’re so alike
When I cross that line
It’s been a point of contention between myself and this body they stuck me in
Am I pretty enough to lie to you
Let me be the void you fill
I am quantum physics
My witness brings me to existence
So I can be your girlfriend boyfriend”
Hello my lovely pile 3! You all feel trapped either in your bodies or just to this reality in general. You have put shifting to your DR on a pedestal or even a part of you doesn’t want to accept that it’s real because you may not feel worthy. Remind yourself that you are constant, flowing energy.
Some of you have been so focused on “finding yourself”, that instead you have used the 3D to define who you are in the 4D. Make the two align.
Try to focus more on the “what” of shifting, instead of the “how”. Feel those connections and emotions you have in your DR. Maybe focus on one in particular that is important to you. Focus on one DR at a time. You have overwhelmed yourself with the thoughts of wanting to shift and being everywhere at once. Take your time and enjoy your CR as well. Shifting is an act and a journey, it’s real life, so make sure you’re still taking care of yourself.
In summary, you are more than your body. You are your thoughts and emotions and your actions, your love and energy you spread. Own that energy and use it for your benefit. Focus on who you are and what it is you want. Try to have a clear idea of that, then connect to it. Once you feel that connection, that’s it. Congratulations it’s now yours. Forget the 3D and just know it’s already yours.
Confirmation: red, Taylor Swift, (Taylor’s version), reputation, Niall Horan, train, Liam Payn, 2222, lock and key, hearts, stars, moon, “go piss girl”, dress to impress
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1dcommunityficrecs · 2 months
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Rec List: Sports Fics!
Hope everyone has been enjoying the Olympics -- I know I have! There have been amazing performances, emotional records, hilarious memes -- it's truly a unique human experience of community and celebration and accomplishment.
Inspired by that theme, here are some more unique human experiences -- eleven of them! Ranging from under 2000 words to over 100,000 words, fics posted a decade ago (holy smokes) to fics posted just this year, pieces that I know so well they live in my bloodstream to ones I've never heard of and can't wait to try, and even including a rare pair, there's lots of variety as usual, so dig in!
Oh Glory by alivingfire (21027, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) – fic post
This fic follows Harry, a swimmer, and Louis, a gymnast, at the Olympics.
Reccer says: I love the sense of time and place it evokes.
don't have to go to the pool by Kingsoftheimpossible (12245, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson)
Harry is new to the swim team, Louis is the captain.
Reccer says: This is an absolutely sexy , adorable, efficient, serotonin-boosting fic.
Whirlwind by Dolce_piccante (21311, Mature, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson)
AU. Acclaimed actor, Hollywood heartthrob, and Oscar nominee, Harry Styles, seems to have the world at his feet, but seeks out an old friend when he needs a date for his big night
Reccer says: It's dolce, so it's sexy, it's funny and there is pining.
The Sidelines by RedRidingStiles (47078, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson)
Harry and Louis play hockey for Penn state and can't stand one another, since they can't keep their hatred off the ice their coach and team do what they can to keep their hard earned spot in the playoffs and their two star players from killing each other
Reccer says: The enemies to lovers is done really well, and they're both stupid. It's the perfect combination of interesting plot, comedy, and smut.
Baby Just Dive Right In (Follow My Lead) by LiveLaughLoveLarry (1686, Teen, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) – fic post
Louis and Harry are partners in synchronized diving. Also in life. They're not intentionally hiding their relationship, but somehow no one seems to pick up on their blatant hints.
Reccer says: It's so funny watching everyone brush off the most unplatonic things as just bros and friends and teammates. Like, I know it's contrived for the sake of the story, but also... it's not that far of a reach!
Get Your Head in the Game by tuxlouis (2007, General, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson)
Harry is on a blind date to a basketball game, and the guy he's supposed to be going with is a TERRIBLE date. Fortunately the cute guy sitting on the other side is a much better conversationalist -- and kisser.
Reccer says: Very sweet, very cute, very funny. Harry's original date is such a hot mess it's hysterical, and Louis is such a little shit but that's what I love about him.
Addicted To Your Fix by sunshinebombx (6312, Teen, Liam Payne/Harry Styles)
Liam injures his shoulder shortly before the French Open. He needs to get back in fighting shape, so he's set up with some yoga therapy. It's very motivating how much he enjoys watching Harry do a downward dog.
Reccer says: Harry's flirting is adorable, and Liam's complete obliviousness to the fact that it's genuine is hilarious. I also love the side-plot about how the media is convinced that Niall and Liam are bitter rivals instead of close friends who get that in sports sometimes you win and sometimes you lose and it's not personal.
Glass Closets and Greenhouses by TiredTiredTz (60933, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) – fic post
Charlton Athletic defender Louis Tomlinson and worldwide sex symbol Harry Styles are rumoured to be hooking up after a viral video filmed at Harry’s Wembley show was posted online by Tommo’s twin sisters.
Reccer says: This is such a great fic! Sweet, sweet meet-cute, witty banter, and actual Tommo-on-the-pitch scenes!
When the Lights Go Out by thelarenttrap (79269, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) – fic post Warnings: Car Crashes
Formula 1 racing drivers Harry and Louis have a history: as childhood competitors, to teammates, to enemies, to eventually lovers.
Hold My Breath by Zarah5 (19749, Mature, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson)
Louis is a footballer. Harry is a yoga teacher. Louis doesn't expect to like yoga, doesn't want to like yoga, but... Harry has a way of making it seem not that bad.
Reccer says: Because it's Zarah5 and with her nothing can be anything but fantastic.
Into The Blue by Zarah5 (117218, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson)
Louis is Harry's diving instructor
Reccer says: I honestly think this fic is a classic. A must read. Not to mention it would be a sin
71 notes · View notes
ancha-aus · 30 days
Text
Ghost & Medium AU Drabble - The Necromancing Medium
Remember how I said I had an idea? That was angst and heartbreaking? This is the idea :D Again, still not sure if they will become a whole series thing.
The drabble is both a thank you for everyone being nice and drawing stuff and writing stuff! And also because I had an idea and as all of you know. I don't have self control :D
This one again includes a lot of my own headcanons for this idea/AU and even Dust. The most obvious one that I should probably mention? That Ash is the older brother and Dust is the younger brother.
Anyway. How Dust got so into necromancy and medium stuff and the tragedy that was his and his older brother's life.
WARNINGS: Child death. Survivor's guilt. implied child abuse. Child Neglect. Mention and implied child harrassment and molestation. attempt at child grooming (the bad BAD kind). technically attempted suicide. nothing is graphic or overexplained but it is implied and slightly mentioned.
I am serious. This one is angst and trauma filled and I am trying to not make it too triggering for anyone but please be careful, mind the warnings and if you aren't 18+ don't read.
*------------------*
Dust rubs his hands down his pants and checks the circle he made.
This has to work.
It just has too.
If this doens't work then... then...
Dust quickly grabs the book near him and squints his sockets at the writen words. It is old and written in another language but Dust has figured out most of it.
He is very lucky the library is open for eveyrone or else he would not have had a place to reasearch... or sleep... or wash up...
It doesn't matter. This ritual should fix everything.
Ash appears near him and glares at the drawn circle "Oh for crying out loud. Not another one of these."
Dust hugs the book closely "This one will be different..." It has to be.
Ash sighs as he floats near Dust "look... I appreciate it.. but i don't want to feel like i am being thorn apart again okay? It is about to rain soon anyway...." he looks up.
Dust nods "It has to rain..."
After all... it had rained the day Ash was murdered. It is part of the ritual to help the soul return.
Ash sighs and shakes his floating skull. He is clearly disappointed.
Dust frowns and tries to focus on the circle he is making. It has to be perfect. How else will he get Ash back?
He still remembers it so clearly.
Dust waits in his room for Ash to return from his after school activities. He is the star gymnastic at school and has a scholarship lined up for him for when he goes to college and to continue training.
Dust knows that it is just a matter of time before Ash is requested for the olympics. Ash is just that amazing! Even at fifteen Ash is many times better than most!
Dust himself doesn't have any after school activities. He normally just watches Ash and walks home with Ash afterwards. Dust gets why of course. He has no talents whatsoever. His parents have told him that many times.
At least Ash likes having him around and giving him ideas for tricks!
Dust looks at the clock and frowns. It is well past dinner time... their parents having gone out for food themselves.
He... he had hoped that when Ash got back Ash and him could make something together. ash had been teaching him how to cook. Said that it was an important skill for him to learn even if he was only ten.
More time passes. No one comes home.
It is half past eleven when the front door opens and Dust peaks out only to quickly disappear into his room again. His parents are home. Why isn't Ash home yet? Did he have another meetup? extra training? Did he go out wiht friends?
He goes to sleep uneasy and hungry.
His guts twist together and his dreams quickly form. Visions of lives never his own. of the restless spirits who try to speak to him and pull him along. Take his body and his energy.
Ash is the only one who believes him. When Dust told him that Dust hadn't thrown over the glass vase but a ghost had done it. When something went missing Dust swore he hadn't touched it. No one ever believed him. Except Ash.
The Dreams change and suddenly Ash stands before him. Looking angry.
Dust doesn't get it... Why is Ash angry? Ash is never angry with him.
Dust reaches for him "Ash?"
Ash pulls away from him. He looks furious "find me."
Dust blinks but takes a step away from his brother "what?"
Ash groans and waves out his arms "Find me! Use your stupid powers and find me!"
Dust doesn't understand. Why would he need to find him? "But.. you were at practise?"
Ash groans "Fuck you are just so stupid sometimes!"
That hurts and Dsut hugs himself "I... I will search?"
Ash goes to say something else but then he is gone.
Then Dust wakes up. it is still early but he grabs his few school things and escapes the house before his parents wake up. He rushes to school and looks around. Searching.
He isn't sure what he is searching for. But if Ash tells him he needs to find him he can. He will figure out why Ash would appear in his dreams like other spirits but that is for later. He needs to find his brother. Maybe he got locked in somewhere? Or maybe he got hurt and can't move?!
Dust rushes towards the gym
He quickly gets inside but every light is still off. Everything is cleaned up and empty. Then again it is only 6 and the morning workouts don't start until half past 6.
Still. Dust rushes towards the locker rooms and searching both sides. Finding nothing there he searches the toilets next before returning to the empty gym.
"Dust! what are you doing here?"
Dust jumps and turns quickly. It is the coach. Dust can never remember his name and honestly he never wants to. Dust... doesnt like being near the other. Something about him is off. Maybe it is because the spirits seem to glare at the coach whenever they pass. Maybe it is because Dust thinks the man stares too long when his brother practised.
Dust told Ash once. How he doesn't like Coach and how the spirits dislike him too. Ash had just smiled and said that Coach was actually always very nice and took them all serious and treated them as adults.
Dust shrugs at the teacher as the other waits for a reply. He mutters a weak excuse "wanted to see brother practise..." he rubs his arm.
Every spirit is screaming at him. He doesn't understand what they say. he thinks spirits need to be strong for him to be able to hear or see them but he can feel them still. The spirits are tugging at him. To go. to leave. to go with them? Dust doesn't know what they want.
Coach nods "I see! I am sorry to disappoint. I haven't seen your brother yet. Not since yesterday morning practise!"
Dust frowns "Ash doesn't skip." Ash never skips. He has more determination than anyone.
Coach nods "I agree. I was going to see if Ash joins us for practise today. If he didn't i was planning on calling your parents. Do you wish to wait with me?"
Dust shakes his skull "No that is okay... I am going to keep searching..." and he rushes out of the door before Coach can answer.
Dust can't believe he was that stupid. two years and he still feels like kicking himself in the skull for not seeing it sooner. To not realise it sooner. Maybe if he had noticed the obvious clues...
Ash wouldn't... He wouldn't have...
It doesn't matter.
Dust lays down another line and checks the ritual in the book. That all looks right and the same. He nods and reaches for his necklace.
Ash looks alarmed "Hey! What are you doing? Stop that my dust is in there!"
Dust freezes and mutters "I don't need all of it... just a tiny bit for the ritual..."
Ash looks deeply unhappy as he mutters "But it makes sure i am anchored to you still... at least until you can do the whole haunting bond thing."
Dust shrugs "if this works you won't need to anchor to your dust or me anymore." this will fix eveyrthing. He will make it right.
Ash looks unsure but floats near him as he gets things ready.
The news of Ash's disappearance shook the school. Dust swore he searched everywhere! He tried to get answers from Ash in his dreams but all the dream Ash told him was to 'search' and to 'actually think for once.'.
His parents were inconsolable. Neither were the teaches adn other students. Ash was loved. Ash was wanted. Ash had a bright future ahead of him.
Dust... Dust was lucky that Ash liked him...
Though... dream Ash didn't like him at all it seemed... dream Ash was just angry at him.
Dust knew what they whispered of course. It wasn't as if anyone tried to hide it. People spoke about how it was a shame that Ash had disappeared. How it was a shame it hadn't been Dust instead.
Dust tried not to let it bother him. He was always the weird kid. He had always been the weird kid. He spoke to people not there. strange things happened around him. Dust seemed to lie about thingsthat he obviously did because no one else was near to could ahve caused it.
He hadn't cared much before even if it hurt to not be believed becuase at least Ash had believed him.
His parents hadn't been for whispers however. They just looked at him and sneered that it should ahve been him who disappeared. not their dear golden boy who had such a bright future and would have made them proud. instead they were stuck with him, the disappointing freak.
Dust hadnt gone home since Ash didn't return home.
others whispered that Ash ran away.
But Dust knew that wasn't the case! It couldn't be! Ash... Ash wouldn't just leave! Not without him!
When their parents argued and on nights after they yelled at him. Ash would hold him close. promise that once he was old enough the two of them would just disappear. that Dust just had to be patient. Once Ash went to college he would take Dust wiht him and they would never have to see their parents ever again.
Ash... ash wouldn't break that promise. Ash was honest! Ash kept his promises! always!
Dust sobs as he hides beneath the seats. Hiding.
"Dust? Waht are you doing here?"
Dust blinks through the tears and looks up. He sobs as he pushes himself upright. Ash. Ash. IT IS ASH! He jumps to hug him only to go right through him and land in the mud leftover from the rain.
He turns and realises... he had been so focussed on his face that... that is only a floating skull and hands... but... but that can't be...
Ash flickers in and out of view. He moves his mouth clearly speaking but Dust can't hear anymore.
No... no no no no. He needs to tell people. Something terrible happened to Ash!
Dust finishes the last view lines and reads the information given in the book.
Ash frowns as he flies over and around it "It looks complex... Waht ritual is this even?"
Dust rechecks the text "A Life force transfer."
Ash blinks and turns sharply "what?"
Dust nods as he checks the different tinier circles to signify where eveyrone has to stand "I think... the reason why the other spells failed was because you don't have enough life force. which i think is just soul energy. You died and are just your left over soul energy now. that affects how you look and everything. It is why we need to anchor you with your dust." he taps his pendant. "Which is why we even use this."
Ash frowns and looks at the ritual considerate "So what... you think we just need to boost my life force and i may be able to be resurrected?"
Dust nods "That is the plan."
Ash frowns "I don't know about this Dust... stealing someone else's life?"
Dust shrugs "It is fine. The one who gives it needs to be willing."
Ash snrots and shakes his skull "Who would be an idiot big enough to give their life force awya freely?"
Dust shrugs "don't worry... i got that part of the ritual covered. Mind going over there? I need to check if the runes to transfer the energy to you would work."
No one believed him.
Everyone just looked at him with pity when he told them he saw his brother's spirit.
that his brother had been murdered or got into an accident.
He wouldn't have left him otherwise!
No one believed him. No one.
The funeral was terrible. He hated every second of it as they jsut spoke some words. They didn't even have his brother's dust to spread on his favourite things.
his parents wanted to do a burial. Even though Dust knew Ash hated the idea of being underground. All that meant was that most things important to Ash were being burried.
forever out of reach. Now he can't even get comfort out of those things.
Dust goes home wiht his parents but neither look at him beyond this dirty look. Dust doesn't care. He has a mission.
His brother's spirit is weak. very weak. He can do some rituals to strengthen it maybe. normally offerings and stuff like that works to get spirits to be stronger, at least for a little while.
If Dust wants to find his brother he needs to do that.
He grabs what he needs and goes back to the school. It is where Ash spend most of his time and most liekly has the strongest imprint of him. Not to forget dust saw him on the sport field. He gets there and makes the offering.
A flicker. Dust smiles but Ash just looks panicked. Telling him to go. let him go as well.
Dust shakes his head. he can't let go of Ash.
Ash is still too weak to say a lot but a tiny bit gets through "... stay away... coach..."
oh. it is so obvious! Of course the creepy coach had something to do with it! Dust stands up and looks at the gym. So that is where the answers lie. Ash looks more panicked but Dust just smiles at him "It is okay Ash... I swear i will fix this!"
He will find out what happened. make sure Coach got what he deserved for hurting his brother and then... then... Ash can move on... Ash will be able to rest...
Ash will leave him...
No. don't think like that. Ash deserves to move on. Ash deserves to find peace! even if it means Dust will lose him forever. He won't force Ash to become a wandering restless spirit.
Ash is shaking his skull at him and trying to keep him from going towards the gym. That is fair. it ist still night. He will need a better timing for this. luckily it is the weekend soon and he will be able to get to work.
Dust nods and smiles "ther. everything is in place."
Ash frowns as he floats above it "so let me be clear." he points to one spot "this is the spot of the life force giver." he floats to another spot "This is the spot of the life force gainer, me?" Dust nods and Ash floats to the small circle wiht the tiny bit of dust "why is the dust needed?"
Dust looks to the side "To make your body... I had to combine the ritual to give you life force and to give you a body... otherwise you would just get m- the giver's body and i doubted you like that."
Ash blinks and snorts "I thought you tod me that performing two rituals at once is too dangerous for mixups or to drain you." he grins at him "You can be so forgetful sometimes."
Dumb and stupid and useless-
Dust shrugs "It is better if it is done at once..." he mutters softer "only get one chance at this..."
Ash frowns at him and flaots over "hey... i know i made a big deal of the whole... it hurting thing before... but if you mess up and mix up words we can try again." he grins "I am already dead anyway. can't get much deader!"
Dust shrugs "maybe..." No. there is only one chance at this. It has to be perfect.
He gets one chance at this.
Dust stands before the office of the coach and takes a deep breath. trying to ignore the panicked flickering vision of his brother.
He was such an idiot. his brother had tried to warn him before in his dreams. yet Dust hadn't seen the signs. if he had done this that day... Ash may still be alive.
It is oaky though. Dust can do this.
He knocks on the door.
everything in the air is screaming at him. spirits of his past victims maybe? All trying to warn him to run and hide. Dust will not let his brother become just another wandering spirit. stuck to this disgusting excuse of a person.
The door opens and the coach gives a wide smile "Dust! I am so happy to see you. How are you doing? The news of your brother must have devastated you."
Dust nods and mutters "I miss him.. a lot.. but he liked gymnastics... i was wondering... could i get some training?"
The man blinks before his smile grows and he looks very excited "of course! It is an amazing thing to want to connect with your brother that way. such a grown up thing to do to!" he steps aside.
Dust is about to take a step when ash appears in the doorway. his arms crossed and him shaking his skull.
Dust takes a deep breath and walks into the office.
Coach and him... talk... it is mostly about ash. How ash was so far ahead of everyone. the hardest worker and how he was admired by everyone around him. How he enchanted people.
Dust agrees of course. his brother is the best. Which is why he is here.
Coach mentions that it may be hard for Dust to do what Ash did. As ash was older and had been training from a young age. But that he was willing to give Dust private lessons and tutoring to get him ona level where he can safely join the others in class. That the Coach would be happy to guide him and teach him anything he could want.
Dust mutters it sounds interesting and that he just wants to be closer to Ash. at least feel closer to him again.
The coach smiles and petted his shoulder as he stood behind him, it raised every instinct in Dust to run but he stayed put. The coach muttered about how that was a very grown up and honourable thing to do. Asking him again how old he was.
Dust answered truthfully that he is ten and the coach hummed "You act much older." he smirks.
Dust mentions that he should go to class but the coach just pats his shoulder. saying that he will have a word with his teachers and see if Dust can skip a few days of class to get some training and practise in. get those private classes started right away.
Dust eaisly agreed and nodded when the coach told him to stay put before he rushed out.
Dust immediantly got off his chair and started to search through the office. It didn't take long until he found a locked drawer. another weak spirit. one of a young human girl appeared before him. and held up numbers wiht her fingers. 4. 5. 3. 9.
Dust entered the numbers and the lock springs open. He looks inside and finds a file and a camera. He takes out his own old phone, a gift from Ash for emergencies. and takes a picture of what he found.
then he looks through the file and... oh... oh god.
Dust shakes as he feels vomit crawl up his throat. No. focus. he aims his camera and snaps a picture. Of every picture in there. of every child in tears and bond as the coach... touches... them...
He is shaking by the end before he reaches for the camera. searching and snapping pictures.
Find him. find him. find him. he has to-
found him.
Dust manages to take a picture before refering to his very first picture. he places everything back in the same place nad relocks the lock. and then he waits.
The coach returns with his homeroom teacher who gently reminds him that he can't just skip classes to learn gymnastic. but that he could look into getting him into it as a past school activity.
Dust nods nad mutters that he understands. trying to remain calm and hoping everything about him just screams disappointed over sick to the stomach.
He walks out of the office phycially fine.
But this isn't the end. He has one more thing to do.
Ash yawns as he looks up at the sky "Rain is still coming."
Dust hums "need rain. It was raining when you left your body. Need stuff to be alike."
Ash hums as he floats near the book wiht a frown "Hey Dust."
Dust nods "yeah?"
Ash speaks "I am not fluent in this language... what does this whole paragraph about pain passing?"
Dust feels his hand shake but forces it still "oh... it is part of the life force ritual... the giver... gives the life force... but to make it work to strengthen the one who gets it... well. the trauma of the one receiving it needs to go... so when the life force gets given the one who gives also takes the pain of the other... so waht they felt when they died. i think." Dust isn't looking forwards to that part. but maybe it is for the better.
After all.
It would ahve been better if Dust had died instead of Ash.
He is just righting a wrong.
He doesn't take this information to the teachers. or his parents. or the principle.
Dust walks 10 miles towards the police station. He goes right to the man at the reception and laid down his phone "Got the proof you needed that my brother was murdered."
It would be an udnerstatement to say that brought chaos.
The policeman behind the counter had at first looked amused but then he grabbed his phone adn started to scroll through the pictures. Each one making the other look more horrified.
Dust was rushed into a room with a very nice lady who asked him if he had any allergies or any health issues. Dust shook his skull.
another policeman returned with his phone and thanked him for his brave actions and that he was asking a lot of him that he would need to continue to be brave.
Dust didn't see it as being brave but answered the questions. Why he searched. He was honest. They looked sceptical when he mentioned ghosts.
Dust was ready to start crying. after everything. everything he did. would they not believe him? He was being honest. he doesn't know what else to do and-
And something had appeared on the white board. a pen floating and slowly writing the words "My brother is right. I am here. please... please listen..."
if there was chaos before it was nothing compared to this. the people working there got to work in a frenzy. They send people to the school to investigate. they called in professionals from the bigger cities and priests as well.
They asked him so many questions. if the coach had hurt him. if he had seen anything else. noticed anything.
Dust told them what he knew and noticed before just having to wait.
An high priest of some church came by. someone who could speak wiht spirits. the priest took one look around the room and spoke about how there are many spirits nearby. the priest than looked at Dust and nodded. saying it is nice to meet a new medium. something about him having talent for it and being a strong medium.
Dust didn't feel strong. he said as much. if he had been strong he would have known ages ago that something was seriously wrong with the coach.
The priest tells him he did amazing. more than amazing. but that this burden shouldn't have been his. that others should have notified people specialised in things in this nature as soon as Dust showed promise.
In the end it was anticlimatic. the coach was thrown in prison but he wouldn't admit where he hid Ash's body.
In the end Ash showed Dust where he ahd been burried. right under the playing field. and there were more hallow graves under there.
Dust hadn't been able to stop himself. as soon as the thing holding his brother's remains had opened he had thrown himself in. Only dust. of course there was only dust and left over clothes left.
scratching marks on the coffin. Ash had tried to get out...
Dust finally cries.
Dust nods and steps back "all ready. Ash? can you go to your spot?"
Ash floats over lazily "finally. I am honestly getting impatient. I think you actually got this one Dust." Ash looks excited "It would be awesome to be alive again."
Dust smiles as he slowly inches towards his spot "You could pick up gymnastics again?"
Ash groans "maybe. Coach kinda ruined that experience though... but college is still fun. What do you think? Think i can still be a cook?" he grins "You can also go back to highschool then. actually finish your own schooling."
Dust smiles as he gets near the offering circle "of course you could."
Ash nods as he looks around "so... who did you manage to convince to give over the life force and stuff? Someone already sick? someone very old?" Ash grins at him.
Dust is hoenstly trying to smile for his brother. but he is so scared. his whole arm is shaking.
Ash frowns "Dust?"
Dust takes a deep breath and steps in his circle.
Ash's sockets widen "what are you doing?! Get the fuck out of there!" he goes to fly over but the circle keeps him in his spot. a safety meassurement. It had been to make sure ash didn't accidentally leave his circle.
Dust slowly raises his hands as he tries to keep his panicking soul calm "it is okay... should be quick."
Ash shakes and looks furious "NO! YOu get out of that circle right now or so help me! I don't agree with this! I don't! This is not willing! I don't want this!"
the ritual circle that had all been glowing a soft green turns red and Dust can feel the affect that had been slowly starting to take place stop. Dust stares down adn glares at Ash "what are you doing? I am fixing things!"
Ash shakes his skull "this isn't fixing shit! You would be dead!"
Dust glares "So?! Everyone would be hapyp with it!"
silence around them.
Ash reaches for him "Dusty..."
Dust shakes as he tries to calm his shaking. stop being dramatic. you are twelve now. get over it. Ash can come back now. as seventeen and still pick up his life again.
Don't ruin this.
Dust rubs the tear away as he mutters "Just let me fix this..."
Ash shakes his skull "I don't want this..."
Dust glares "since when not!? You are always telling me how much you miss being alive. How much you wished you could ahve just amde a run for it when you were alive! How you would eat better food! Visit cooler places! Actually go to college and make something of your life!" Dust shakes "I know this is wasted on me... This chance... jsut take it!" he is shaking and crying "Just let me fix this... let me do soemthing that makes you love me again..."
The shaking gets to back and Dust just grumbles to the ground. He is so tired. everything is hard and no one likes him. No one trusts him. His parents left him as soon as Dust had to stay at the police station. Is it so bad? so bad that he just wnats his brother to love him again? if only for a few moments? and then just sleep forever?
the glow disappears as his concentration breaks and Dust tries to pull hismelf together. Rub his tears from his sockets as he tries to mutter the start of the spell again.
He feels Ash close and he flinches "sorry... i can do it and..."
"don't... please don't..." Ash looks heartbroken as he floats near him "damnit i wish i coudl hug you..."
Dust sobs and nods "me too..." his last hug was the mornign before Ash went to that last faithful practise.
Ash speaks softly "you don't ahve to fix anything..."
Dust shakes his skull "but if i hadn't been so dumb i would have known it were other victims. i could have warned you!"
Ash just shakes his skull "Not your fault."
Dust sobs "If... if i had searched faster i could ahve found you sooner."
ash shakes his skull again.
Dust looks downa dn mutters "i messed something up... and now you can't move on... I keep you stuck here because i don't want to be alone..."
Ash snorts and shakes his skull "Dust... you did everything right. You got my murderer brought to justice and you guys found my remains. I had felt it. I had been able to move on right then and there but... well..." he looks at dust "I wasn't going to leave you after that.."
dust looks down and rubs his tear angry "so... you feel like you ahve to stay because i am weak and pathetic..." he needs to do this ritual. give ash the life he deserves and-
Ash laughs "no you dum-dum." he grins "I am here because i don't want to move on without you." Ash floats around him and rests on his skull. Dust can't feel pressure from him but he feels the energy of his brother near "there was no way i was going to leave you because i don't want to leave you. It is just as much for me as it is for you dusty. You are my brother."
Dust feels hismefl relax "i am sorry."
Ash gently hushes him "hush. No need to feel sorry, well aside form the fact you scared the unliving daylight out of me. Promise me you will never do something this stupid ever again. No giving your life or soul or any of that or the energy of either to others. you hear me?!"
Dust laughs and nods "promise..."
Ash hums "good. Now. Mess up this ritual circle thing. and burn the pages of the book detailing it."
Dust frowns "but what if we actually ened it and-"
Ash hushes him "no. None of that. No life force trading."
Dust sighs but does as told. messes up his circle. retrieves his brother's dust. and he uses a lighter to burn the page of the book holding the ritual.
Ash nods "much better."
Dust sighs as he starts to leave the forest "I don't know any other way to bring you back."
Ash shrugs as he floats with him "we aren't in a hurry."
dust frowns "you will miss things you could do in life?"
Ash grins "that is the great part. you can always catch up. I don't ened to be young to go to college. to start to learn how to cook. or any of that." he floats around him and it now looks like they are both wearing the red scarf "so no hurry."
DUst sighs and nods before muttering "we are going to have to find a stronger anchor for you. at least until i am old and strong enough to be the anchor myself."
Ash nods "much better. Time yo go to our favourite spot the library and do some research. AFTER! You ate and showered. You are soaking wet and don't think i didn't notice you skipped breakfast again."
Dust nods and sets into the right direction. Maybe one day he will figure it out. For now he will jsut learn what he can.
*------------------*
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rambleonwaywardson · 3 months
Text
Clegan Olympics AU - Cross Country
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AU summary: Paris 2024 Olympics. Gale is on the U.S. equestrian eventing team, Bucky is a U.S. gymnast, they meet on the plane to Paris, and a love story ensues.
Author's Note: Gale's cross country run, and Bucky meets Whiskey. I won't lie, writing about Gale and his horse here is pure self-indulgence.
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Gale can feel the energy and anticipation coursing through Whiskey’s body, the excited tension in her broad shoulders, the set of her head as she carefully watches everything around her. Like a physical thrumming that extends from her and goes right through Gale.
Other horses and riders wander around the warm-up area at all gaits, sailing over practice jumps as they await their start times. Gale is the fourteenth rider to start on the Paris Olympics cross country course, and he’s trying not to let himself be nervous about it. Horses and riders are set off at three minute intervals to complete a high intensity course that ideally takes just under nine and a half minutes to complete. Benny had been the first rider and would have finished the course a while ago now if nothing went wrong. Gale hasn’t heard word of any major incidents on the course thus far.
Riding horses teaches you how to keep yourself calm even when calm is the last thing you feel. The moment you let your control over yourself slip, your horse can feel it. They can feel every tense muscle in your body, every hesitation you make, every doubt you have. Horses teach you to sit up straight, breathe easy no matter how shaky you feel, keep your heels down and your eyes forward and never let anyone know if you’re afraid. So Gale takes a deep breath and rides Whiskey through her nerves. He lifts a hand to his safety vest to make sure it’s secure, then checks the strap of his helmet for about the fifth time. 
He checks that his eventing watch is set to 9 minutes and 18 seconds, the optimum time for the course. They’ll be starting any minute now, and they’re walking around in circles by the start box, waiting for the signal to go. Whiskey keeps picking up a nervous trot, her tail in the air and her ears perked forward. Gale lets her go a few steps before bringing her back down. “We got this, girl,” he tells her quietly. He allows himself a quick look at the massive crowd that has gathered around the start of the course. Gale and Whiskey have run countless cross country courses together, many of them with sizable crowds in recent years. But this is on another level. He wonders if John is here anywhere, like he promised to be.
Last night, Gale spent quite a while assuring John that cross country isn’t a death sentence. On average, far less than a quarter of the riders at a top level event will fall on the course. A miniscule number of those falls will be anything serious. John protested that, according to Google, cross country falls can be fatal. Gale countered him by saying a gymnastics fall can also be fatal and told him to stop Googling things.
Subsequently trying to explain to John that he’s actually fallen off several times, including on cross country, and that, in an ideal situation, he knows how to fall “safely,” did not go over well. “You broke your fucking back!” John exclaimed incredulously.
“I did not break my back. I had a stress fracture in my spine,” Gale corrected him.
“Yes! You fractured your spine!”
“And you broke your leg! But here you are.”
They’d glared at each other for several seconds before John admitted, “I just don’t want you to get hurt.” He’d never in his life expect Gale to just not do what he loves, no matter how much it may hurt, but that doesn’t make Bucky less concerned about this whole cross country thing.
Gale smiled softly at him, not used to having someone other than Benny or Marge care so much about his well-being. “Sounds like we’re in agreement, then,” he said. “I simply won’t fall off.”
It’s easy to be a little cocky when you ride horses. A good rider always knows the risks, knows their limits, knows their horse. But in the end, if you aren’t sure of yourself, you have to pretend. You have to fake it so well that you start to believe it. Gale and Bucky are the same, that way. They both know that their control over their sport stops somewhere, and all they can do is stretch their own skill as far as it’ll go and convince everyone else there’s nothing to worry about.
As Gale guides Whiskey around in another small circle and into the start box, he starts his watch. The whistle blows, and they’re off like a shot, galloping towards the first of 25 obstacles, a keyhole with brush across the top. The crowd pressed against the fences on either side of the course cheers and claps as they clear the first jump and barrel towards the next.
Whiskey soars over them all with ease, taking the corner jumps in a perfect line that will no doubt save them a few seconds on their time. She gallops uphill and downhill with just as much coordination as if she were on the flat. Even the coffin jump she hops over like it’s nothing. Gale remembers spending months with her when she was just four years old, trying to convince her that the ditch in the ground was just another obstacle to clear. Young Whiskey was convinced it was going to swallow her whole if she crossed over it, even throwing Gale into it once when she refused and ran out. But not now. Now, she’s invincible.
This, Gale thinks, is one of many things that made him fall in love with this sport. A horse has a way of making you feel like you’re flying. Like you’re untouchable. They teach you love and responsibility, softness and kindness, grit and determination. But they also take you for who you are and fill in all of the gaps. They take one look at every insecurity and worry you have, and they say, ‘I can fix that. Just hang on.’ Gale loves the tangible connection he feels with his horse. He knows her like the back of his hand, and she can read everything he thinks and feels by the way his muscles twitch, by the tone of his voice when he whispers in her ear. 
So when they run through this cross country course, Gale wants to win. But flying over jump after jump, galloping down the stretches between them, it brings him a certain kind of peace, too. Like he’s a kid again, riding for nothing more than the joy it brought him, the escape it allowed him. He finds himself grinning into the wind hitting his face. 
Gale and Benny had walked the course earlier with the rest of the riders, getting a good look at every obstacle and pacing out the lines they planned to take. The Paris course is nothing like anything he’s ever ridden before, if nothing else because of its splendor. It was designed with every little detail in mind, complete with pontoon bridges over the Grand Canal, giving a quintessential photo op for the Games. 
Aside from his awe over the course, Gale had been a little worried about the steep bank heading downhill, immediately followed by a jump straight into a water obstacle. Whiskey, still young, sometimes has a hard time balancing on the other side of downhill banks. She stumbles just the littlest bit now, and Gale has to fight to keep his weight back in the saddle until he can straighten her out. But she finds her footing and carries them over the next jump, straight into the water, which splashes all the way up to Gale’s face. 
They cross the bridges over the canal and loop around the park, through the trees and perfectly maintained hedges. As they head into the arena in front of Versailles, they’re over halfway through the course. Gale checks his watch. They have just under four minutes. There’s another large crowd gathered in the stands to watch the few jumps that are set up in the arena, and on their way out, Whiskey catches sight of someone waving a small U.S. flag over the rail of the stands. She throws her head up and spooks to the side, nearly unseating Gale, but he pushes her on.
Anyone watching on TV can hear the commentators laugh lightly and explain that Whiskey is still young for an Olympic eventer. Nine years old is the minimum age for Olympic horses, to ensure they have enough time to mature before facing intense competition. “She’s really doing extremely well,” they say.  “This is a young team, both horse and rider. And it looks to me like they may be the face of the sport for years to come.”
Gale and Whiskey have already put their small mishap behind them, though. There’s no room for dwelling on it. There’s only forward. With only a small handful of obstacles left, he can feel her tiring, but he knows she won’t give up if he won’t.
“Keep going, girl,” he whispers. Her ear flicks back at the sound of his voice before pricking forward again, and she keeps going. She’d run to the ends of the Earth for him.
Sometimes people tell Bucky that he’s insane. Usually it’s in reference to the gymnastics skills he incorporates into his routines, so he’s pretty sure they mean it in a good way. They tell him that what he does is crazy, especially considering the fact that the sport almost ruined his life.
But standing at the end of the cross country course, he thinks equestrians have given “insane” a whole new meaning. He actually said “what the fuck” out loud when the first rider – Benny – came galloping full speed down the final stretch, soaring over the jump at the end and racing to the finish. Because, seriously, at least Bucky has control over his own body. How can anyone tell him that he’s more insane than these people who sit on a horse’s back and charge through the woods at 20 miles per hour, clearing jumps that are several feet tall, often several feet wide, and sometimes include unnecessary twists like going downhill or through water? And what? They just trust the horse to not kill them in the process? 
That, Bucky thinks, is crazy.
Gale had tried to explain to him last night that it’s not as intimidating or dangerous as it looks. That, just like gymnasts, riders train for years, sometimes their entire lives, to be good at what they do. That the horses themselves are trained for years to be good at what they do. He tried to explain to him what the partnership between a horse and rider is like, the fact that he trusts Whiskey more than he trusts most other human beings. He’d given up eventually, though, with an amused shake of his head, telling Bucky that he’d come to understand eventually.
Bucky tried not to get too hung up on that word: eventually. That word implies a future. It implies that Gale sees a future for them beyond these games. This isn’t just a casual thing for him. It’s not just a summer fling.
Bucky has never been too great at commitment. Everything about his love life has only ever been casual. Too little love and too much life. But after only knowing Gale for a handful of days, he’s starting to think casual isn’t what he wants anymore. He isn’t sure if that scares him.
Eventually. He’ll understand eventually. Bucky decides that that’s something he wants: to understand. He wants to come to love Gale’s sport as much as he wants Gale to love his. He wants to know, as much as he can, what Gale means when he talks about the bond between horse and rider, what he feels when he looks Whiskey in the eye and can be so sure that she’ll do right by him. Gale told him that, when Bucky finally gets to meet the mare, all it will take is one look. One touch. And he’ll start to understand why Gale thinks the world of her.
Bucky knows essentially nothing about horses, but he hopes Gale is right.
So, he’s here. Exactly as he promised he would be. He’s standing with Marge at the end of the Paris Olympics cross country course, watching insane people charge over the final jump. Marge told him that it’s a keyhole. Enclosed on the bottom, top, and on either side. It’s designed to look like a horseshoe, with the Olympic rings stretched across the top. Bucky is, at least, thankful that they chose to stand here, rather than by one of the more complex obstacles. They’ve watched eleven riders come through so far, which means two didn’t finish the course. Marge has had the livestream up on her phone, but Bucky has barely watched it himself. He doesn’t need to see if and when someone falls. Not when he’s standing here, waiting for Gale to make it to the end.
Marge has quickly become a good friend to Bucky, too. He thinks she just has that kind of quality, a good energy – she’s a person you want to be around. So he’s really glad she invited him to watch with her, because he would be totally lost, confused, and probably freaking out a little bit without her. And, yeah, as Gale warned him, it would be a lot more boring.
She taps him excitedly on the shoulder as she cranes her neck to look down the final stretch. “He’s coming, he’s coming.”
Relief floods through Bucky as he turns to look in the same direction, and sure enough, there’s Whiskey, coming out of the trees around the turn with Gale on her back. She has eventing grease down her legs to protect them from the jumps, white contrasting against her sweat-darkened chestnut hair (chestnut, Gale had insisted. Not red.) Her head is much more forward than it was at the start, leaning more heavily on the bit, her nostrils flared as she sucks in as much oxygen as she can get. Her ears remain forward, alert and excited.
Bucky can hear her pounding hoofbeats against the ground as they run for the final jump, and he watches in complete awe as Whiskey seamlessly launches herself into the air from her hind end, clears the jump, and keeps sprinting for the finish. Gale looks up as he reigns her in, searching for his time on the board. 
“He’s under the optimum time,” Marge says to Bucky as they watch. She sounds impressed, and relieved. “And only a few points in penalties. They’re in really good shape.”
“Is that… surprising?” Bucky asks dumbly.
Marge looks at him and smiles, shrugging. “It depends who you ask.” When Bucky just stares at her, she laughs. “Gale and Whiskey are young. Gale is the youngest rider on the entire U.S. equestrian team. And Whiskey is the youngest horse. She’s the minimum age a horse can be at the Olympics. So, yes, to a lot of people this is very surprising.”
“And to you?”
Marge’s smile grows. “Not surprising at all.” 
Gale turns Whiskey in a small circle then, slowing her down, and his eye catches Bucky’s. Bucky is a little in love with the way Gale’s face lights up when he sees him. The way Gale urges Whiskey a few steps to the side to get closer. “You’re here!”
“I told you I would be!” Bucky calls back. And just for a moment, there’s no crowd gathered at the fences. There’s no score board or clock or cross country course around them. It’s just them. Gale is right by the fence now, reaching his hand down, seeking Bucky out, and Bucky reaches up to squeeze it in his own. He’s vaguely aware of an event photographer taking pictures of this moment. 
“Thank you,” Gale says sincerely, and Bucky doesn’t know what to do about the way it makes his heart flutter. Then Gale looks at Marge. “I think we did it,” he grins. 
“I think you did babe,” Marge laughs. “Now get outta here!”
Gale lets go of Bucky’s hand, and Bucky feels his fingers reaching out, chasing the loss, before he drops his hand back to his side. Gale nods to them both and urges Whiskey to trot off down the remaining extra bit of track, heading back for the stables. 
Marge grabs Bucky by the arm and starts pulling him through the crowd behind them. “Let’s go.”
Bucky is certain he isn’t supposed to be here, but Marge didn’t seem to get that memo. Or she doesn’t care, which is fine. When they approach the stables, there’s a few horses and at least double the amount of people milling about outside. Horses being untacked, hosed down, and hand walked to cool off, and collections of riders and grooms surrounding them. Marge leads Bucky straight over to Gale, who Bucky can now see is just as sweat-soaked as Whiskey. He’s removed his vest and helmet, leaving him in a white, sweat-marked team USA polo tucked into white riding pants that Bucky thinks hit him in all the right places. His hair is soaked and sticking up in crazy directions from his helmet.
The horse has been untacked, and Gale is holding her lead as a groom sprays her with cool water. Whiskey is shoving her nose against Gale’s arm, making him laugh as he rubs her forehead, right over a bright white misshapen star. Bucky manages to sneak a picture of it on his phone before Gale looks up and notices them approaching.
“Hey!” he exclaims, shoving Whiskey’s big head away from him and handing her lead to the groom, who scratches her lovingly behind the ears as he leads her away. Gale looks at Bucky even as Marge hugs him. “So? What’d you think?”
“You’re crazy. That was crazy,” Bucky insists. 
Gale laughs and rolls his eyes as Marge steps back. “Whatever you say.”
Bucky steps forward then, wrapping his arms around Gale. Gale freezes for a split second, then he hugs Bucky back, letting his tired body relax into him. “It was also amazing,” Bucky says.
“I probably smell like shit,” Gale mumbles self-consciously. He hears Marge stifle a laugh, and he knows it’s because he’s never once cared about how he looks or smells at the stables.
“I don’t care.” Bucky hugs him tighter.
When he pulls away, Benny has joined them, his horse already back in his stall. Marge hugs him, too. “You both looked incredible out there,” she says.
Bucky makes to step back, to let the three of them talk, but Gale reaches out and grabs his hand, keeping him right at his side. It feels weirdly normal, standing in a circle of friends, holding Gale’s hand, and Gale doing it like it’s nothing. It’s the first time they’ve really shared such intimate physical touch so openly.
Bucky wants more of it. 
“I think we’re in good shape,” Benny is saying. “I think we have a real chance of a medal this year.” If the US equestrian team gets a team medal in eventing, it’ll be the first since 2004. And they are bound and determined to make it happen. 
Benny looks over at Bucky. “Will you be there to watch our victory tomorrow?”
Bucky blushes, and he doesn’t even know why. “Oh, uh. I don’t know-“
“John’s got his own team finals tomorrow,” Gale says proudly, squeezing his hand. 
“Oh right, John Egan,” Benny mocks. “US gymnastics poster boy.”
Bucky is pretty sure he’s teasing him in a good way, but he can’t quite tell. Gale rolls his eyes and shoves Benny gently. “Oh fuck off.”
Then he pulls Bucky away from them. “Come on, I want you to meet someone.” He calls out to the young groom who is in the process of scraping the excess water off of Whiskey’s coat. Bucky learns that his name is Ken Lemmons, aka the only person Gale fully trusts with his horses other than himself. Kenny greets Bucky kindly and hands the lead over to Gale. “She’s barely even tired,” he chuckles, regarding Whiskey as she nuzzles at his shoulder. “Let me know if you want me to hand walk her.”
“Will do, Kenny.” Gale thanks him and the groom walks off, leaving them be. 
Gale turns his attention back to Bucky. “Bucky, meet Whiskey.”
Whiskey lowers her head the slightest bit, like she knows she’s being introduced. One big brown eye looks at Bucky curiously, her ears forward, her breath coming in hot puffs as she stomps her hoof at a fly. Bucky looks at Gale hesitantly, and Gale smiles encouragingly back at him. Then he takes Bucky’s hand in his own again and raises it up, presses it to Whiskey’s nose, Gale’s warm hand on top of his. Whiskey’s skin is soft beneath Bucky’s touch.
“You can pet her,” Gale says, taking his own hand away. 
Bucky lets his fingers rub up and down Whiskey’s nose, then the side of her cheek. When Gale tells him that she loves being scratched around her ears, he raises his hand to the top of her head and scratches gently like he saw Gale and Kenny do before. Whiskey leans into the touch, asking for more, and he laughs as he increases the pressure. 
Then she shakes her head, making Bucky pull his hand away, red horse hair stuck to his fingers. “Did I do something wrong?”
Gale laughs. “No, no she just does that. It means she likes it.” As if to confirm, Whiskey stretches forward to nuzzle Bucky’s hand again. “She likes you,” Gale adds. 
Bucky finds himself smiling, running his hand down her neck, still wet from the hose. He marvels at the way the muscles ripple beneath her skin, the way her huge hooves stomp on the ground, the sheer magnitude of her presence in front of him, all combined with the softness of her eyes. He feels like he’s maybe starting to understand what Gale meant. “She’s beautiful.”
“She is,” Gale agrees. Bucky looks back over at him, and the way Gale, sweaty and tired as he is, is framed so perfectly by the rays of sun behind him, watching, with so much love, as Bucky meets his horse for the first time – it does something to Bucky that he’s never quite felt before.  
“You’re beautiful,” he finds himself saying. 
Gale blushes, his hand still scratching Whiskey’s nose, but the way he smiles at Bucky then, so shy and so perfect and so unequivocally happy, makes Bucky feel somehow complete. 
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Next Part
(Side note: much of Whiskey's personality is based off of my own mare and it's making me emotional because I love her so much thank you)
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tgmsunmontue · 10 months
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WIP FIC List - pinned post
All completed fics can be found at: ARCHIVE OF OUR OWN, however if you prefer an up-to-date list you can visit this Tumblr post, as it lists all my TG/TG:M fics and links to both AO3 and the first Tumblr post for that fic.
*ACTIVE WIPS - (updating ~weekly depending on chapter length)
Sagas of Solitude 12/21 - IceMav with side Hangster AU - angsty Nepo!Baby Bradley Bradshaw who has to keep his relationship with Mav and Ice a secret when he starts at the USNA. Featuring married Ice and Mav (but not to each other). Prologue He Remembers and Lonely Nights are both set in this verse. (Last updated 14th September)
Season to Taste 17/? Celebrity Chef Bradley and Naval Aviator Jake Seresin who have a relationship spanning the globe before they realize how tightly bound they are to one another. Heading into this little world. (Last updated 20th September)
*Active WIPs, versus WIPs listed below - more writing time and energy is spent working on the above, while the below are fics I work on sporadically (or in the weekends).
WIP STATUS (+ FIC IDEAS CURRENTLY GERMINATING)
FYI - everyone is welcome to take any of the ideas and do their own spin. Don't plagiarise obviously, but definitely feel free to take it and add your own twist.
A) Upon which our souls touch - 6/? - Hangster Fantasy AU (Last updated 7th September)
B) Famous and cat fishing that isn't cat fishing because online relationships are rife but...? (Tumblr idea)
C) To wake, perchance to dream - 4/? - Jake wakes up in the future, gets a glimpse of what their life could be and then wakes up back right before being called back to Top Gun for the special detachment (e.g. TGM). (Tumblr post and the beginning of the fic) (Last updated 1st September)
D) IceMav with unknown about children because the US Navy is evil and produced offspring because of genetics being a THING. (Tumblr ramblings)
E) Cyclone/Maverick - Cyclone is struggling to deal with being attracted to the most annoying person he's ever met. Why does he like him so much?
F) Olympic AU - Jake and Javy are the Flyboys, a synchronised diving pair. Bradley is a gymnast.
G) Party of 5 AU - Jake raising his younger siblings and trying to run the family business and grieve the life he had started to build at College.
H) From the top 2/? - an Ice/Mav epistolary fic where Jake and Bradley matchmake them, not realising exactly who it is they've matched together. AU divergent ish. (Last updated 23rd July)
I) Bradley runs away and joins the circus. Tumblr ramblings.
J) Barista Jake? Fleshing this out into a proper length fic? (HERE)
K) Caring, Keeping and Collecting Transformers - A Guide - 8/?Transformers cross-over for help me @yeagrave is 110% to blame for me adding this... (related to this post) (Last updated 13th September)
L) Hangster Sports Team AU with Hangster being ex-es and the trade deadline coming in hot and Bradley being traded in and all hell is about to break loose... Ramblings
M) Practical Magic AU (Tumblr ramblings)
N) Two guys in the mines hooking up... (Madness)
O) Long-distance/Zoom D&D players. (Madness)
P) Rooster is a shapeshifter trapped in his animal form? Crackity crack crack. (Madness)
Q) Hangster Bingo of the Soulmate variety for which I have already written 5k.
R) IceMav Bingo of the Florist and Undercover agent variety.
S) Jake leaves Bradley at the alter and everyone is heartbroken. Including me.
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