#and i can't deal w/ the smile in the last gif

[rinneverse]

࿐ ♡ ˚ . 𝐰𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 — 𝒂𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒆. ˒ ⊹

syn. you think jealousy is a good look on aventurine. too bad he has to remind you that you belong to him, and him only. (1.8k) pair. aventurine x f!reader cw. jealous aventurine my beloved / fem-aligned reader / pet names used: pretty girl, doll, angel, princess, good girl / oral (f!receiving) / fingering / teasing and begging / prone bone / spanking (like.. one time) / p in v penetration / creampie / multiple rounds are insinuated. teehee. love, oak! loooorrrrrdddddd aventurine. i've been obsessed w him since he was mentioned in topaz's quest ♡. about to start the penacony quest now, i'm literally buzzing w/ excitement over seeing him!!!!!!!

MINORS + AGELESS BLOGS DNI. NSFW UNDER THE CUT.

aventurine thinks he can be a little bit... petty, sometimes.

but of course, who wouldn't be, when one sees some random stranger putting their hands all over what's theirs?

so obviously, aventurine does the one thing he does best.

put on a show.

"hey, pretty girl," aventurine drawls, sidling up to you as he slides an arm around your waist. the grip he has on your hip is near-bruising, the only indication that he was currently ticked off. "you tired of this bar yet? i'd like to leave soon." his voice is a soft croon as he brings his lips to your ear, warm breath brushing the sensitive skin there. "i've got better things for us to be doin' in mind."

you gasp, playfully slapping his chest. your attention is completely off the man you were just chatting up, and aventurine shoots him a lazy grin. the man merely grumbles and leaves.

it makes him feel pure satisfaction, really.

aventurine turns you in his grip so that you're chest to chest with him—forces you to tilt your head back to look up at him. he smiles prettily down at you, as if he weren't just scheming to whisk you away from all the attention you were just receiving.

"better things, huh?" you say, glossy lips forming a matching grin to his as you look up at the blond. "like what? that man was just about to buy me a drink, you know. how're you gonna make up for that?"

he nearly lets his perfect mask slip—a twitch of his eyebrow is all you notice. but he tilts his head, looks down at you with those pretty lavender eyes of his.

"oh doll, if you wanted a drink, why didn't you just say so?"

your eyes gleam with mischief. you trail your fingers up his chest, your lips pursing in a pout.

"it's more fun charming a guy into buying it.." you sigh dramatically.

"who says you haven't charmed me?"

"no one. everyone knows i've already got you wrapped around my finger."

he can't argue with that. no, he can't argue with the irrefutable truth.

because you do. he's wrapped around your pretty little finger, and you know it. you exploit it. he doesn't mind, though.

aventurine doesn't deal with what doesn't pay off. and in the end, a pretty thing like you always does.

so he smiles again, tilting your chin up with a gloved finger. he lets a little bit of the hunger he feels shine in his eyes—he basks in the way your eyes shutter, your red-painted lips parting slightly.

“how about this, then—will you let me charm you, pretty?” he purrs, thumb coming up to gently tug at your bottom lip.

your throat bobs as you swallow. a shallow nod of your head follows—as much as he’ll allow while he grips your chin.

“good. you know how great i am at making your dreams come true, don’t you?”

there’s no room for debate there, nor does he give you any; aventurine’s smug demeanor is never undeserved, if the way he has you grasping the sheets of his bed later is concrete proof of that.

“’venturine,” you whine, back arching off the ruffled white sheets of the bed, “please, need you inside me, noooow.” the last word comes out in a long moan as his fingers stroke just the right spot inside of you. a flick of his tongue against your puffy clit draws a cry of pleasure from your lips.

he hasn’t even taken his clothes off yet, and he already has you a mewling mess for him. again, he feels that familiar sense of satisfaction flow through him.

aeons. he loved seeing you so debauched, flushed and squirming beneath him as he draws orgasm after orgasm out of you.

“c’mon angel, one more time for me—you can do it, can’t you?”

the low drawl of his voice is drowned out by the lewd squelch of his fingers inside you, constantly moving and stroking your walls in just the way you liked it. at this rate, you were going to go insane, but you feel your climax cresting, rising up and up and up, until it comes crashing down with a particular crook of his fingers inside you. he doesn’t let up, doesn’t grant you any mercy as you sob and convulse with pleasure. “’venturineee!”

finally, finally, he stops, withdrawing his fingers (his sleeve is completely soaked with your essence, he notes smugly) and rising after a swift kiss to your sweet pussy. you lay there, a puddle of nerves still buzzing with pleasure.

the clink of his belt and the rustle of fabric falling to the floor, and then you’re being maneuvered so gently, rolled onto your front with large, gentle hands. there’s a pillow being slid under your hips, another for your pretty head, and then you feel the bed dip with the weight of aventurine settling into place right behind you.

you let out a soft cry as you feel the blunt head of his cock rub against your still too sensitive cunt, his hands gripping the plush globes of your ass as he spreads you for him. he loves the little sounds you make as he teases you, dipping the tip in but never quite going any farther than that.

no, he wanted to hear you beg for it.

“what do we say when we want something, princess?” aventurine hums, drawing the tip of his cock through your slick folds, achingly slow.

“oh,” you sigh sweetly. “need you to fuck me. please, ‘ven, need it so bad.”

your plea is like sugared candy on his tongue, a torturous substance he’s addicted to as he allows himself to slowly sink inside you. he takes his time—you’re whining and squirming beneath him, and he has to hold you still with firm hands—but only goes as far as an inch, shallowly moving his hips.

“like that?” he asks coyly.

you look over your shoulder to glare at him. at the nasty look you shoot him, his eyes narrow; he lifts a hand, only to bring it down on the sensitive skin on your ass. you let out a yelp.

“now, now, only good girls get what they want. you’re a good girl, aren’t ya?”

you respond with a desperate whine. aventurine knows when you’re reaching your limit though, and like the good person he is, he’s decided he’s had enough fun torturing you. besides, he’s nearing his own limit—the walls of your cunt just feel so delicious around him—and it’s taking a willpower of steel to not pound you into oblivion right then and there.

aventurine sighs dramatically, hands drifting up your spine, ghosting along your back. he likes the way you shiver beneath him, completely helpless to his whims. he’s quiet for a moment, drinking in the way you’re breathing harshly beneath him as he lets himself dip a little further into you, and then: “alright, i’ve teased you enough. you’ve been so good for me.”

the words are like music to your ears—as well as the only warning you receive before he’s gripping your hips, lifting and adjusting you so he hits just the angle he knows you like, and he starts a brutal pace that rips a harsh moan from your lips.

he’s absolutely unforgiving in the way he fucks you, but he knows it’s just the way you like it. searing, molten heat flows through your veins with every stroke, nerves like lightning as you’re overwhelmed with the all-consuming sensation of aventurine all over you. it’s not just the way he fucks you—the way he presses his chest to your back as his hips rut into you, the way he has you completely pinned, rough hands spreading you oh-so perfectly for him, the way his lips press to the nape of your neck, his breath ghosting along your skin as he groans, right up in your ear.

“fuck—you’re so fucking tight, pretty—yeah, you like this, don’t you? can feel you clenchin’ around my cock.” he makes a point to thrust his hips especially rough at the end of each sentence, coaxing a long, desperate moan from you. you’re mindlessly babbling at this point, barely able to form a coherent sentence as he fucks all sense of sanity from your head.

and when he snakes a hand around you, brushing down your navel towards the apex of your thighs, you let out a broken sob as deft fingers find your clit. paired with each perfectly aimed thrust, you’re coming undone beneath him in a matter of seconds, walls convulsing around him.

“where do you want me, angel?” aventurine coos in your ear. his voice is raspy, lust-drunk and breathy as he struggles to hold himself together, to stave off the orgasm he knows is imminent.

“inside,” you gasp out. “wan’ it inside!” your words slur together as he fucks you through your own orgasm. you feel electric as his hips start to stutter, your only other hint that aventurine is close, so so close, and you want him falling with you. so you clench the delicate muscles in your pelvis, walls fluttering around his cock so perfectly, it feels like life and death and infinity and oblivion all at once.

he presses deep inside you, holding you so tight to him as he cums, hard, just the way you wanted him to. you clutch the pillow under your head to ground yourself, muffling the moan you let out as his hips twitch and then eventually pull away, drawing himself out of you. the sensation makes you hiss softly, displeased at the empty feeling he leaves you with.

aventurine smiles at the sight—of you, blissfully fucked out on his bed, hips still slightly raised from the pillow as his cum drips out of you. it might’ve been obscene to some, but he was so utterly fucking obsessed with you that really, it’s got him ready to go for another round.

he only gives you a moment to catch your breath.

then you’re being flipped over, aventurine slotting himself between your legs, his already hard cock pressing against your messy cunt. he smiles down at you, a purely predatory look in his eyes as his gaze meets yours.

“don’t tell me you’re tired out already, princess,” he drawls, basking in the way your sleepy eyes widen with shock. “you’ve gotta cum at least a couple more times before i’m satisfied. i’m gonna make sure my name is the only one you remember, ‘kay?”

and as he slides into you, torturously slow, you realize that you might just be in for a long night.

please don't repost on other platforms. rbs and comments are super appreciated ♡ !!

[sofiahchan]

How would Deepspace boys act when their wife (MC) is in labour? ( ͡° ʖ̯ ͡°)

— 𝐑𝐀𝐅𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐋

Rafayel was letting you hold his hand tight as he was sweating, he simply doesn't know what to do. He is nervous, offering you anything you want, even if it's a small piece of napkin or water. He would always give you a lot of praise while you gave birth. How come your journey together ends here, yet you have a new start? He feels so happy and so nervous right now in this moment that he will be a dad.

Rafayel doesn't know much about childbirth, just the basics. It's hard for him to see you in so much pain, and he wishes he could help and take all your pain away. He wants to give you strong support and he whisper compliments to you.

Looking at you, he could notice how you’re panicking inside. He tried his best to comfort you, making sure you were comfortable and knowing how much he’s proud of you. He’s grateful to have you as his wife and now the mother of his child. When the sound of a baby crying can be heard, Rafayel can feel his eyes getting teary as he stares at his newborn baby. He can't stop praising how strong you are, he is fully overjoyed. He lets you hold the baby in your arms. Performing the skin-to-skin contact as he looks down on such a memorable sight. I was thinking how adorable it is that now he has a baby that is a mixture of you and him together in your arms. evidence of how you both love each other and are willing to raise a child together. Finally, he gives you a comforting kiss on your forehead while keeping an eye out for you and his new little sunshine.

— 𝐙𝐀𝐘𝐍𝐄 

Zayne knows what you need most during pregnancy. Heating pads, pillows, even your favorite food? You named it. He got everything prepared for you, ensuring that your pregnancy would go smoothly as he tried his best to help you out. Even if he’s busy, he always answers your texts and calls quickly, making permission letters to the higher-ups so he can take care of you without neglecting his work too. In your final moments, he would still ensure that you have all the stuff that’s needed. He offers you a glass of water with a straw and even a handkerchief to wipe your sweat. Giving you a gentle squeeze as he holds onto your hand.

In his free time, he tries to learn more about your pregnancy, including which month you will be able to identify its gender, in which month you will need more supplies, and about the last trimester of your pregnancy. He convinced himself that everything would go well, so he had to be ready to deal with whatever challenges might appear. This way, he would always reassure you that everything would go well for the baby and yourself.

Once he sees the baby inside the hospital bassinet, a warm smile appears on his face. He was pleased to see the blessings that are now given to both of you. A warm hand suddenly lingers on your head, and you can feel how he is caressing your hair. He gave you a soft kiss on your forehead as he looked down at you. Looking down at you and the baby inside the hospital bassinet next to her hospital bed, “How lucky I am to be blessed with such a strong wife,” he whispers as he holds onto one of your hands.

— 𝐗𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐑

Xavier’s gentle nature shines through as he conceals his inner nervousness with a tender smile reflecting in his eyes. Not wanting his emotions to overshadow the moment, he soothingly murmurs words of encouragement not only to you but to the little life growing within your womb. With a caring touch, he delicately sweeps strands of your hair behind your ears, a gesture filled with affection and tenderness. Embracing you in a warm hug, he holds you close, his embrace a source of comfort and security as he endeavors to create an atmosphere of relaxation and ease for you.

He is struggling to avert his gaze from the unfolding scene, fully aware that the sight of blood could easily cause him to lose consciousness. Imagining a different scenario where you were not experiencing labor pains, this whole situation might have a hint of humor to it.

Seeing the tiny baby on his arms, Xavier held his tears as his fingers closed up to the baby's face, watching him pick it up. "He's so cute and lovely; you did a great job." You see Xavier smiling while hearing his praises for you and hoping the baby looks more like you. After going through all that, Xavier tries his best to cook for both you and the baby for the first time. He managed to make something edible and started to spoil you with his home-made food.

[qtboni]

╰﹒ 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐇𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐒 !

PAIRING: Ooc!Simon 'Ghost' Riley X Reader

OVERVIEW: He lashes out on you + very dismissive over your efforts for him :((

C/W: Angst, no comfort (see p2 for comfort!), mentions of toxic behavior (bcz words), offensive languages, depictions of mental health struggles (anxiety, but js tiny amount). [ fanart credits : ave661 on tumblr ]

W/C: 1.1k bubs

Simon had been going through a lot lately, and you could tell it was taking a toll on him. He had been working overtime at work, and you could see the exhaustion in his eyes every time he came home.

You want to do something special for him, something to lift his spirits up.

The air was charged with anticipation as Simon stepped through the door, making you want to burst out of happiness.

You had been eagerly awaiting his arrival, eager to show him what you'd been working on all day. You had been so excited to do something special for him, and you had gone the extra mile to make this night perfect!

The air, still thick with tension, Simon walked through the hallway. He'd had a long, hard day at work, and the last thing he wanted was to deal with anything else.

Price had been nagging him more than usual on the mission. Simon was tired and just wanted to rest, but Price's constant barrage of questions and commands was starting to get on his nerves.

He tried his best to keep his cool, but he couldn't help feeling a little bit frustrated. Despite his best efforts, he managed to keep his emotions in check and focus on the task at hand.

After the mission was over, Simon was relieved to finally have a moment to himself. He just wanted to rest and have a good night, but there you were, being a nuisance to him.

You could see the weariness in his eyes, as if he were carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. He shrugged off your attempts to engage him, not wanting to deal with the small talk.

As Simon dropped his collection of his military wears in the near cabinet, you approached him, your heart still pounding with excitement.

"Simon," you said, your voice trembling and a cheeky smile forming on your lips. "I've been working on a special surprise for you all day. I made your favorite snacks, decorated the living room, and even picked out a movie I know you'll love! I just wanted to make tonight special."

Simon looked up at you, his expression unreadable. "What?" he asked, his tone sharp and exhaustion palpable in his voice.

Despite his attitude, you pushed forward, eager to show him the cozy living room setup you'd created.

"Ta da!" you exclaimed, gesturing to the cozy space. "I wanted to make our movie night extra special tonight, so I went all out."

You'd decorated it with fairy lights, set out the popcorn and drinks, and made sure the couch was nice and toasty with a mountain of blankets.

"I just wanted to do something special for you," you added, your voice light and upbeat.

Simon's expression fell. He looked at the setup as if it were an annoyance, and you felt your feelings going down the drain.

You tried to hide your disappointment though and put on a cheerful smile, but it was hard to hide the hurt in your eyes. "What's wrong?" you asked hesitantly.

Simon shook his head, and for the first time, you saw the signs of his stress and turmoil. His lips were thin, his brow furrowed, and you could tell that he was struggling just to keep it all together.

"I can't take on one more thing right now," he said, his voice rising with frustration. "I'm exhausted. I can't deal with this right now."

You felt a lump form in your throat as you realized the full extent of your mistake.

"I..."

Your heart sank.

You couldn't believe you hadn't realized how tired he looked, how haggard and stressed. You had been so caught up in your excitement that you had missed the signs, the signals that he couldn't take on any more.

You had been so eager to do something nice for him, and in doing so, you had only added to his burden.

A tense silence fell over the room, and you could feel the tension rising between you. You wanted to comfort him, to make things right, but you didn't know how.

"I'm sorry," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "I just wanted to do something nice for you."

As you stood there in silence, your heart racing and tears swimming in your eyes, he finally spoke.

"Well, don't," he snapped, his irritation evident in his tone. "I can take care of myself. And I didn't ask for any of these."

You watch as he points to the decorated living room. Your efforts. Your hopes of having a good night of movies with him.

You felt the tears spill over and course down your cheeks.

"I didn't mean to make things worse for you," you said, your voice trembling. "I just wanted to do something nice for you, to lift your spirits. I didn't realize..."

Simon sighed, running a hand through his hair.

"I appreciate the effort, really I do. It's just..." He trailed off, searching for the right words. "Can you just stop being a bother? I can't take on anything else right now. I'm already stretched so thin, and I can't..."

You felt your chest tighten at his words.

You had always known that Simon was a hard worker, but you had never truly appreciated the toll it took on him. You had always been there to support him, to lift him up when he was feeling low, and you had always assumed that he would do the same for you.

At that moment, you realized that you had been asking too much of him. You could see the exhaustion in his eyes and the slump of his shoulders.

The realization hit you like a punch to the gut.

Your voice barely above a whisper, you managed to say, "I... I understand. I shouldn't have pushed you like that."

You could feel the hurt in your chest, like a physical pain that made it hard to breathe.

“Stop being a bother.”

The tears were already falling down your face, and your heart ached with the weight of your mistakes. It was just a reminder of how much you loved him and how desperately you wanted to be with him.

Simon didn't utter another word, just nodded his head, but his silence spoke volumes. An oppressive and heavy sense of unease permeated the air, leaving no doubt that there was nothing else to be said.

You stood there, feeling numb and defeated as you watched him leave to the bedroom.

You had learned a difficult lesson that night, and one that you would never forget. The road to happiness was not always smooth, and sometimes, even the people we love the most can hurt us without meaning to.

Tears filled your eyes over and over again as you realized how much your effort was taken for granted.

In that moment, you didn't understand why he was being so cruel to you, especially when you had put so much thought into making him happy.

All you wanted was to see Simon smile.

A/N: okay.. well.. he was an ass.. HELP simon pookie why would u do this to us? :(( we even made you popcorns and and even bought you your favorite drinks :(( we had to even ask ur best bud soap what kind of movies you like :(( we did so much for you :(( but it's okay ig. . . as long as you can have your rest. . . and well. . . goodnight :((

lmk if you guys need a part 2 cuz i be crying in my sleep

EDIT! part 2 is posted !!

[f1daydreamers]

𝐁𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐫𝐬 [𝐓𝐀𝟔𝟔] 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐

gif credits: @trenty

Pairing: Trent Alexander-Arnold x Fem!Reader

Summary: Arne, in hopes to focus on his team’s mental health as much as their physical, recruits a younger but just as educated psychologist to work one-to-one with the more reserved players. Trent is one of them.

A/N: Here's Part 1 if you haven't read it already!

Warnings: mentions of divorced parents, sister lives w/ Reader, awkwardness, cliff-hanger but not that big of a deal tbh so soz anyways

Word Count: 1.9k words (7 mins reading avg)

…

"Kaia! You're going to be late!" You yelled from the kitchen, your voice echoing through the hallway.

You hurriedly placed sandwiches into a fresh sandwich bag and then slipped it into her college bag.

"Okay, okay. Can you chill?" Kaia's voice, slightly muffled, floated down from the end of the corridor. You rolled your eyes, placing her water bottle next to her bag with a practiced sigh.

"No, I can't. You can't be late again, they've already sent two letters home about your attendance." Your tone was firm but laced with a hint of concern.

"For being 10 minutes late? Bit extra," she retorted as she finally appeared, her hair still slightly tousled from sleep.

"No, for always missing your first class even though I always wake you up on time," you countered, a frown creasing your forehead.

"So?" Your sister shrugged, nonchalant as ever.

"So, if you get kicked out, you have to live with Mom or Dad. You know the deal." Your voice softened a bit, hoping the reminder would make her see reason.

"Fine, fine. I'm going." She sighed heavily, zipping up her jacket with a dramatic flair and slinging her bag over her shoulder.

You stopped her at the door, walking over to the far counter. She turned back to you with a very loud, exasperated sigh, rolling her eyes.

"Water bottle." You tossed it to her, which she caught mid-air, before she turned to leave.

"And make sure you go to-" Slam. You winced at the sound of the door shutting so harshly, the finality of it echoing through the flat. Your shoulders slumped.

"Class," you finished lamely, the word hanging in the air.

"Why am I a mom before I'm a mom?" You mumbled to yourself, rubbing your forehead in frustration.

You slid your phone off the counter, texting your dad a quick update that your sister just left. You'd let it slip about her attendance letters the last time you spoke, and now it was a regular point of concern.

A quick 'good' and thumbs up emoji followed seconds later.

Your eyes flickered over to the clock hung on the wall, noting there was a measly half-hour left until you were due at work.

Luckily, the office was barely a ten-minute walk from your flat. You packed your bag at a steady pace, making sure you had everything you needed. As you descended the stairs to the ground level of your complex, you waved to a few of your neighbors, all of them scurrying off with their children to avoid being late for school.

Some things never change.

...

You juggled a stack of papers that Lee had handed you right at the front entrance.

You eventually approached your office but with your keys clutched awkwardly in your other hand, and your bag precariously draped on your shoulder but now threatening to slip off, you fumbled to fit the correct one into the lock.

The papers teetered on the brink of tumbling from your grasp, prompting a flash of irritation to cross your face.

Just as you were about to lose your grip on them entirely, Curtis appeared at your side. "Need a hand with that?" he asked, his accented voice made him sound friendly and slightly amused.

You looked up, relief washing over you. "Yes, please."

He took the stack of papers from you, his easy smile making the moment feel less chaotic. With your hands free, you managed to unlock the door with ease.

"Thanks, Curtis. You're a lifesaver."

"No problem at all," he replied, plopping the papers onto your desk with a subtle thud.

"So, who'd you piss off?" he asked, pointing his chin at the stack of papers.

You chuckled, dropping your bag by your desk and draping your cardigan over your chair. "I haven't a clue, probably God."

He laughed, turning his shoulder to the door. "Are you coming down to the canteen for breakfast?"

You paused, considering the invitation. "What's on the menu?" You pushed your hair behind your shoulders, powering on your computer.

Curtis grinned. "Just about everything. You name it, they’ve got it."

You smiled, the tension from moments ago melting away. "Sounds tempting. I'll be down in a bit."

Curtis nodded and exited swiftly, leaving you with a sense of belonging. You'd been most worried about fitting in, about getting along with the players beyond mere professional courtesy. If you were going to be working with them for the next few years, building friendships was essential to you.

And maybe skipping breakfast wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

You made your way down the stairs for the second time today, smiling to a few familiar faces as you walked to the canteen.

There was a black board right out front, with the times for breakfast and lunch clearly displayed on it.

Your phone buzzed just before you entered. It was a message with a photo attachment from your sister.

You quickly opened the notification, letting the picture download. A ghost of a smile touched your lips as you rolled your eyes; it was a picture of her iPad showing a class presentation, with her classmates surrounding her.

You typed a brisk response before locking your phone and shoving it back into your pocket.

Inside, there weren’t as many people as you’d expected. An equal mix of staff and players, some recognisable and some not.

Those you did recognise were engrossed in their conversations, laughing, smiling, some serious - a mixture of emotions painted on everyone’s faces.

It was refreshing to see something other than an email inbox for the first part of your day.

But there was one person’s emotions you couldn’t quite understand.

His back was facing you, but after staring at it during most of your confrontation a few days ago, it was clear as day as to who was standing at the front of the canteen.

You wrestled with your thoughts, weighing the pros and cons of approaching him. Mostly cons, if not all, but you couldn’t build true relationships with the players if you shied away all the time.

Crossing the floor, you grabbed a plate from the stack at the beginning of the serving line. You couldn’t help but steal a few glances at his body language; you were a psychologist, after all.

His tense shoulders and slightly furrowed brow told you he wasn’t in the mood for conversation, but you pressed on.

Maybe it was just his resting face?

“Morning, Trent,” you greeted him with a smile, trying to keep your tone friendly.

He glanced at you briefly, unsurprised by your presence, likely having noticed you long before you approached.

“Psychologist,” he muttered, not making eye contact as he focused on the food in front of him.

“I must say, I admire your professionalism,” you quipped, attempting to lighten the mood, though the ensuing awkward silence made you regret your attempt.

“Any plans today?” You ventured.

“Training,” came his curt reply.

“Routine must be comforting,” You remarked, trying to maintain a conversational tone.

“Why are you talking to me?” he abruptly stopped in his tracks, his tone sharp.

You were fortunate to notice his halt in movement, otherwise you could’ve bumped into him if you hadn’t.

But judging by his build, you doubted even a nudge would’ve stirred him. His cold stare bore into yours, and you fought to maintain composure.

"Because I think you're a great conversationalist," you said with a smile. He paused briefly, rolled his eyes, then slid his plate off the tray rail and walked away.

A faint chuckle escaped you as you watched Trent walk away, his expression guarded. Sighing inwardly, you turned back to the serving line, reaching for a piece of toast with a mix of amusement and resignation.

One of the canteen ladies, her silver hair neatly pinned back and wearing a crisp white apron over her uniform, approached you with a knowing smirk.

Her eyes twinkled with a hint of mischief as she leaned closer. “Wow, haven’t heard a conversation that awkward since my first double date in ’97.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, grateful for her light-hearted approach. “Yeah, it was pretty rough, wasn’t it?”

You let a brief moment of silence pass before you continued.

“I don’t think we’ve met yet. I’m Y/N,” you said, extending your hand.

Carol, as she introduced herself, took your hand with a firm shake. Her affable demeanour was a stark contrast to Trent’s disinterested reception, one you welcomed.

“Ah, the young psychologist. Lee���s mentioned you a wee bit. I’m Carol. Been working here since the beginning of time, or so it feels.”

“You look as young as me,” you complimented with a smile, noticing the genuine kindness in her eyes.

“Oh, stop it,” Carol chuckled softly, waving off your compliment. “How are you finding it here?”

You shrugged in response, glancing around the canteen before meeting her gaze again. “You really want to ask me that after what you’ve just overheard?”

Carol nudged your shoulder playfully. “I’ve heard worse back in my day. What’s happened between yous two?”

“Nothing,” you reassured her quickly. “He’s still getting used to me being around.”

“Well, if he’s anything like the Trent I know, he’ll come around at one point, just keep pissing him off,” Carol joked cordially, her voice carrying a touch of wisdom.

You nodded with a bright smile, tilting your head. “Yes, ma’am.”

…

As you sat in your small office, you locked your phone after messaging your sister to warm up dinner for herself, knowing you’d be home late.

Your mind wandered again - to your family, to your work, to him.

The glow of your laptop screen illuminated the dimly lit room. You had been poring over articles for what felt like hours, hoping to uncover more about him than he had revealed to you personally.

You had always found the internet to be your greatest ally when working with clients, especially world-famous athletes.

You wanted to delve deeper into understanding the anomaly that was Trent Alexander-Arnold, to move beyond your brief and often contentious interactions.

With a few clicks, you eventually navigated to interviews featuring him.

The first video showed him discussing mental health in football, a topic he approached with surprising openness. His words were measured yet sincere, revealing a vulnerability that contrasted sharply with what you had witnessed so far.

“I guess I’m not as trusting as some of the other guys on the team,” Trent admitted on screen, his gaze sincere as he spoke directly to the interviewer’s camera. “I’ve never been comfortable sharing my personal issues, outside of my family. There’s always a fear of judgment.”

You watched intently, feeling a pang of empathy as Trent’s words resonated with you. It was as if he was sitting right in front of you, confiding in you directly.

In another interview, Trent discussed the pressures of fame and the struggle to balance his private life with the demands of professional football.

His shoulders relaxed slightly as he spoke, revealing glimpses of a man grappling with expectations far beyond his years.

As you paused the video to let his words sink in, Trent’s earlier rebuke echoed in your mind.

“Don’t expect me to pour my heart out to some stranger. Especially on someone else’s schedule.”

Then suddenly, a light bulb went off in your mind as you rattled through all the different strategies you were taught at university.

You realised that perhaps your approach with Trent had been too clinical, too focused on schedules and protocols.

Without hesitation, you opened your email and addressed a message to both Arne and Lee.

Your fingers tapped out a request, concise yet loaded with implications that only you understood fully.

For now.

…

Part 3

Masterlist

Comment below if you want to be part of the taglist! Once you are part of it, you'll be reminded for every part of the series until its completion!

Taglist: @trentwife @bluebreadenthusiast @julovesurmom @blubsberries @remmysthings @heyjudeb @keepitabuckxx

[randombush3]

audentes fortuna iuvat

alexia putellas x reader

part one, part two

words: 9541

summary: alexia and you as posh + becks III

content warnings: there’s some (a lot of) cheating + postpartum depression. it’s more frustrating than sad though x

notes: this covers 2019-22(ish). It was SUPPOSED to be the last part. It’s not anymore. I’m gonna do a fourth to deal w the mess I have created in a more self-indulgent amount of words than the 3k i had planned. That will probably have smut in it 😛

“Y/n left me.” 

The limousine you are in is completely black, save for the white lines being measured out right next to you. 

“What?” says Jenni. 

“She left me,” Alexia says once more. The hotel room is a non-committal beige. They lie in the same bed, the older of the two welcoming her lost teammate wordlessly and without judgement. Tomorrow, they will return to Barcelona, losers yet another time. “She moved back to london. She took Nico.” 

“She can’t just take Nico, can she?” 

“Y/n, how’s Nico?” Your stomach turns, but whether that is provoked by the thought of the baby boy you left crying in your father’s arms or by the white powder outlining the rim of the woman’s nostrils, you don’t know. 

Your son’s creasing eyes, red face, and grabbing hands appear in front of you. He screams as you walk away. He doesn’t understand why he has not smelt Alexia in weeks, and he misses the comfort of home. 

Everyone waits for your answer. No one comments on the bags under your eyes. “He's fine,” you say with a smile. “He loves it here.”

“I think she is depressed,” Alexia tells Jenni, comforted by the arms wrapped around her waist, holding her close and tightly and reminding her that she is not as alone as you have made her feel. “She told me that she couldn’t be in Barcelona anymore, but she said that without giving me a chance to come with her. Her bags were packed before the conversation started — she might as well have called me from the plane.” 

“Are you angry at her?” 

“Yes.” 

Alexia thinks about it. 

“No.”

“No,” you say when they point at your very own line. The drug holds a place of both familiarity and hatred in your heart. The fine, white powder reminds you of greatness – of being the most successful girl group in the UK – but, also, of hospital visits. It’s not a past addiction, but it could have been. You light a cigarette instead, though it will make the vehicle reek. “I can't. I have a son.” 

“You’re not a saint.” They boo. “You’re allowed to have fun. I saw you the other day, and you had no qualms with any drugs then.” 

“No, I'm not a saint,” you reply. You regret that night — however little you remember. “But I am a mother.” 

“Is it that thing? Postpartum?” Jenni asks. “The baby blues are really shitty, I've heard, but they’re not supposed to cripple you. Maybe the relationship has other issues.” 

“I'm not angry at her, Jenni,” Alexia repeats. “I miss Nico. He looks like her. He has started to look a lot more like her now.”

“He would definitely suit those sparkly bralettes.” Jenni giggles at the thought. 

With an understandable lack of good humour, Alexia ponders something more realistic. “He would suit a Barcelona kit.” 

“He would be made for it. You are his mother.” 

“I'm not angry at her,” Alexia says for the third time, just to make herself believe it. Just to carve those words into her bones and tell herself that it isn’t anger, what she’s feeling. “I don't want to be angry at her. I think I'm going to see if I can move to arsenal.” 

“Don’t you dare.” 

“Well, I'm not angry at her.” 

“Alexia.” Jenni cups her cheek tenderly. “Ale.” She knows she shouldn’t. She’s not angry at you, and so there is no punishment needed. Not that… Not that kissing Jenni would ever be utilised as a weapon to get back at you. Or that she’d actually kiss her. 

“Daddy, I can't get him tonight. No, I don't want to stay over. Daddy, I…” You hate the baby. You hate yourself. You hate that Spain hasn’t done well, and that your fiancée is disappointed that nothing is how it was supposed to be. Alexia is probably lying awake in bed, missing her son, and missing you. You expect one of her teammates to call you soon, and tell her that she needs you. You’re her person. “I'm going to get some sleep and I'll pick him up tomorrow. Probably around lunchtime, okay?” 

“Alexia, bésame.” 

…

You had passively bought your house. It’s how property sale works when you’re a celebrity. People are always willing to do things for you if you know the price, and it never hurts to use your name to add a new flashy level to whatever stupid business they are running. It’s a mutual exploitation, to some extent. 

Highgate is beautiful. The house is beautiful. 

The reception room, with its high, decorated ceilings, is your favourite place to numbly take in the twisted jigsaw of your life when Nico has cried himself to sleep. The nursery is on the first floor. He is near enough for safety, but at a distance that allows you to regret all the mistakes you have made.

You watch him roll over onto his stomach, eyes trained on the baby monitor though your fingers graze the ivory keys of your new piano, attempting to compose something worthwhile. At this rate, your solo career is going to fail just like your relationship seems to be doing. 

Yesterday, while Alexia seemingly disappeared from the face of the Earth, you came out. It was an off-hand comment during the Graham Norton Show. A quick ‘my fiancée named him. She’s from Barcelona’ was all it took. You hope Alexia, wherever she may be, has heard about it. Jenni would have told her. You trust Jenni to be somewhat on your side because she always has been. 

The doorbell rings just as you sniffle, wiping away the tear that slips down your cheek. “Don’t be pathetic,” you mutter to yourself. “You didn’t pay five million pounds to sit here and cry. You chose to come back home.” 

Being in England – colder, drearier, lonelier England – has made you realise that your decision was not the right one. Or maybe it was. It has proven that you are as terrible a mother as you convinced yourself you were back in Barcelona, and it has also shoved the cavity Alexia leaves in your life when you refuse her entry right down your throat in the form of a constant lump and a dull stabbing in your chest whenever you think about anything past whether Nico has had anything to eat. You can’t even feed him properly, despite it being supposedly in your nature. You buy formula from the nearest Waitrose. 

The doorbell rings again. 

The insistence is not uncommon seeing as you are, at the minute, the English press’s number one target. You open the CCTV app on your phone so that you can decide whether or not to ignore the potential stalker, and your heart rate spikes when you see the hooded figure standing on the porch. Back to the door, it is not possible to determine the threat. A well-buried maternal instinct kicks in for once, and you ensure that Nico is still peacefully out cold before getting up to answer the door with the poker from the Victorian fireplace firmly in your grip. Just in case. 

You are a mother, in whatever capacity you have decided that role looks like, and so you undo the three latches on the door with brave, protective fingers. The baby monitor’s volume has increased, and the fuzz of white noise is audible if Nico were to make a sound. The vague repulsion at the idea of it all is only an aftertaste in your silent prayer for the hooded figure to not want to kill you. Some sick part of your brain imagines Nico dead, as well. It tortures you. 

The poker in your other hand, for the most fleeting of moments, is almost plunged into your chest. The imaginary, self-inflicted wound makes you think of the blood and how the baby upstairs would wail until someone found him. The grimace of annoyance on your lips is nothing new, but you have no more time to torment yourself because the doorbell is pressed again, rather impatiently. 

You open the door and the hooded figure is right in front of you. “He’s asleep,” you say, the Spanish foreign on your tongue. 

Alexia shrugs, and her hood falls down, revealing the brunette tendrils that hang from her slowly sinking bun. “I came for you,” she replies, so earnestly that it is as if nothing ever happened: past pain forgotten and replaced by sprouting memories of soft kisses and mornings where leaving was too hard to do. Some of them, you think, are not real. They don’t seem to be. Your blank stare is unsettling. You almost don’t believe her. “Can we talk?” she tries, and you notice the team-issued duffle on the tiled floor she is standing on. Then, from the pocket of her hoodie, she extracts a pastry box. The plastic window is filled with circles of different colours, and she holds out the macaroons to you as if to bribe her way into a home in which she is unsure she belongs to.

Stepping aside, leaning the poker against the wall by the door, you scratch at the bare skin of your neck. Alexia, while sweeping an arm down to collect her bag, fixes her gaze onto the ring you are wearing, and the diamond glistens with hope that this can all be fixed. “Would you like to come inside?” 

She swallows the whine of anguish that tears her heart open at the idea that this might never be her house to live in, too, and she follows you dutifully as you lead her through hallways far more luxurious than the flat in Barcelona could ever be. This is what you left her for – the person you are, no longer in worn clothing with messy hair, is quite the opposite of the woman with her back to her moments before she had to focus on football. The necklace draped on your sharpened collarbones is new, and she does not dare believe what she has been hearing is true. Yes, there are pictures, but she trusts you. She will always trust you. 

“Have a seat,” you say, gesturing to the wooden dining table. It is clean enough for her to determine that it is unused. Alexia places the macaroons in front of her, and aches at how you sit at the opposite end. 

“I…”

“I thought you were going to give me all the time that I needed.” It is a statement of distance, as if your location is not enough. 

Alexia, eyes widening at how unwelcome she suddenly feels, needs only to remind herself of the impending date of the wedding. It is beginning to loom uncomfortably, with the excitement of getting married drained out like a low tide on a deserted beach. “We have two weeks. If it isn’t going to happen, then you should tell me now. We have to give everyone notice so that they can cancel their flights.” Your silence spurs her on. “You will need to contact the wedding planner, because you refused to let me have a hand in any of it so I don’t even have their number. I’m sorry that you won’t be able to wear your dress. Vivienne Westwood is a big thing for you, I know. I’m sorry that it’s inconvenient.” 

“But Alexia,” you whisper, “I don’t not want to get married.” 

Her eyebrows furrow, head tilted slightly to the left. “I know. That is why I am saying this.” 

Your voice grows louder. “No, no. Sorry, that wasn’t the easiest thing to understand.” Across the dining table, your love that has faltered, that has hesitated and been reconsidered and been stamped down over the past month, extends towards her: its final destination, always and forever. Alexia feels it grab her by the throat, wrenching the words from her before she can even formulate a thought in response, and her body is so drawn to you, in such a powerful fashion, that she pushes her chair out from the table with a grating scrape and is stepping towards you with a finality that makes her wonder if she’ll ever leave your side. 

As she approaches, the idea that she is here becomes a little too real. You have played with the fantasy of it, of course, but the tenderness in her usually fierce eyes does not match the anger you had expected, and, in the most feeble fashion, you have never felt more apologetic in your life. 

“I’m so sorry,” you begin to say. Tears stream down your face with freed anguish, and the words are so simple yet they bear the weight of your entire soul. “I’m so sorry, darling. I made a mistake, and I have been met with the most crushing of realisations: I can’t do this without you, Alexia.” I still want to marry you, Alexia. 

The room seems to close in on your despair, attempting to bottle it, almost, and keep you trapped underneath a haze of emotions you don’t quite know how to sort through. “I… I’m beginning to hate him.” The confession hangs heavy over Alexia’s bowed head as she stands frozen in place, stuck in her journey towards you but unable to arrive. “I’m acutely aware of how cruel it is,” you continue, this next admission being what agonises you the most. It floods the room with guilt, and your voice trembles with self-condemnation that reigns harsher than any other voice in your head. 

“It’s ridiculous. I’m evil and I’m wrong, and I just feel like it is inherently in my nature to be like this, as though some fault has been built into me with warning signs we evidently ignored.” You struggle to breathe. “I wish I could take back the day we decided to have him,” you confess, your voice barely above a whisper, lips doused in tears, skin searing with shame when Alexia cups your cheek with a strong, calloused hand. “He should not have to be stuck with me as a mother.” 

Your chest heaves, and you are finished. You have never verbalised it before now, and it is impossible to decide whether it has helped remove the lead lining of your heart where it has been bolstered against your will. Her other hand steadily rises to your face, but then, with only a second of hesitation, she is pulling you upwards and enveloping you in her embrace. You feel a little bit closer to her. “Mi amor,” Alexia murmurs, tone cracked with sorrow and regret. “Lo siento mucho. Desearía haber sabido, desearía haber estado allí para ti.” 

Gently, she tilts your face upwards to meet her gaze. “You are not evil and no estás equivocada. Estoy aquí ahora, y no te dejaré enfrentar esto sola nunca más.” You collapse into her. “I’m here, cariño, and I am not going anywhere.”

The sentiment is wonderful, and Alexia makes good on her word. 

When Nico begins to cry, the sound piercing through your choked sobs, Alexia realises she has missed all of her life with you. Being separated and being apart due to work, she now knows, are two excruciatingly different things. The whiny wails from upstairs visibly jar you, though you pull away from Alexia to attend to him. “I will do it,” she declares, though her firmness is not mean. “Sit down. Eat the macaroons – they’re… ‘to die for’?” You nod with instinctive encouragement. “Sí. They’re to die for. Try. Jenni says that the pink ones are the best.” 

“Jenni picked them out?” you ask with a briefly regained humour, eyebrows raising. “Had to get your friend to choose your apology gift?” In truth, neither of you know what Alexia would be apologising for, but Nico’s crying grows more incessant and Alexia is climbing the carpeted staircase before the topic can be discussed. 

Alexia reaches her son with tears brimming in her eyes. The failure of Spain at the World Cup is amplified by the idea that she has disappointed him, though he does not yet possess the tools to pledge his allegiance to her country. In fact, Nico has been sleeping in Manchester United attire (your father has been his primary carer of late, and he does not charge you money, so the price is obviously Alexia’s sanity). She is more than glad to smell his nappy, and delighted about the opportunity to change him into something less hideous. 

“Mama loves you so much,” she tells him as she manoeuvres his chubby legs into a plain, inoffensive onesie. “I promise, petit. I am going to help her, okay? And we are going to get through this together.” Alexia forgets about the taste of Jenni’s lips and the heat between them. “Mama just doesn’t see the direction she is going in. It is like her eyes are covered, and she is telling herself that she is walking down the wrong path, but this is not true. You are the most special thing in the world to us. You are the sunrise, the sunset, and the hours of the day.” 

She pauses to stand him up on his tiny feet, hands hoisted underneath his armpits. He is heavier than when she last held him, but she is stronger than before, too. Women’s football is growing, along with her muscles. Nico babbles out a vague reply, but Alexia hears what he is trying to say. “I agree. We’ll be alright.” And, with all her heart, it rings true. 

…

The following day, she calls the doctor for you, script written out on a piece of paper in front of her, translated perfectly so that her concern does not waver the information she needs to tell the receptionist. The clinic is famous and discreet, and they are quick to prescribe you antidepressants before the week draws to a close. You won’t be able to drink at your wedding, and everyone might think you are pregnant again, but Alexia reassures you that it will be worth it. 

Wrapped up in your own bubble, the three of you enjoy London in a way that isn’t possible in Barcelona. 

Here, Alexia has no commitment to football. There are no training sessions she must rush off to, there are no teammates to pry, and no one else to interfere with your private little routine. You quite like it, and she does too. It is only temporary, before you fly out to Menorca and hand Nico off to Eli in order to enjoy your respective bachelorette parties and then, in exactly seven days, your wedding itself. 

“You’re still smoking,” Alexia says disapprovingly, the sleep in her voice enough to make you feel a pang of guilt. It’s late at night when Nico has finally been soothed from his aching gums, and she has been able to climb back into bed expecting to find you asleep already. “Why are you awake?” 

“I’m still smoking,” you tell her. She sighs at the way you parrot her words, but presses an affectionate kiss to the junction of your neck and shoulders despite the lingering smell of cigarettes. “If I can’t drink, I’m going to smoke. This is Hollywood.” 

“This is Highgate.” Her accent curls around the name with something a little too foreign for her to ever consider this place home. “Why are you awake?” she repeats. 

You look down at the open notebook in your lap, the pages either blank or full of crossed-out lyrics. “He was so loud, but I can’t seem to write anything either so, really, it has been quite redundant.”

“I had to get a glass full of ice and hold it to my fingers so that I could help him. I could have lost some very important assets, but it seemed to do the trick.” He’s teething. You’re telling yourself that the antidepressants are little pills of miracle, and have kicked in already. “Feel.” She presses two freezing fingers to your cheek, and you gasp, flinching away from her. 

“There’s a teething ring downstairs, you know,” you tell her. She shrugs. Maybe it isn’t clean. “Don’t give yourself frostbite. I happen to quite like your fingers.” 

Alexia’s smirk is beyond suggestive, and her lips hit your neck once more with an entirely different heat to them. “Yeah?” You push her head away. “I bet it would feel good. Nice and cold.” 

“You’re delirious.” 

She continues to kiss you. “I don’t know what that means,” she mumbles into your neck, until her lips reach your face and she is near climbing into your lap – notebook long pushed onto the floor. “Dímelo en español.” 

“No lo sé.” 

“Ah. Una palabra inteligente.” 

“Claro.” 

She laughs into the kiss she presses against your lips. She never has never felt like this with anyone else. Never this relaxed, or loved, or safe. “Me vas a matar con tu inteligencia y voy a sentirme estúpida para siempre.” 

“I love you,” you state softly. “I love every part of you.” Alexia, in that moment, decides to never do what she did with Jenni again, and to never break your heart by informing you of her betrayal. 

…

You’re married. 

You’re married to Alexia, a woman who bears the beauty of a goddess and the strength and will of someone who could capture the sun and tame the fire that rages on its surface. 

You admire her as she sleeps so peacefully beside you, tanned skin warmed by the sunlight streaming in through the large windows of the hotel room. Later, you will get on the ferry, go back to Barcelona, and then fly to Capri for three days alone before Alexia’s preseason starts. Aside from a few meetings with Dave, you theoretically aren’t swamped with anything. You’ll be joining her in her city with Nico with a bit more permanence than last time. 

Alexia buries her face in the covers, crawling into your open arms the minute the sunlight rouses her. “Everything is sore,” she groans, her bare skin slightly sticking to yours, the sweat from last night not yet gone. 

“What happened to ‘mi vida, one more time won’t hurt’?” you tease, impersonating her heavy accent over your English with enough drama to get her to elicit another grumble. This time, it’s something about being bullied. “Darling, we have to get up. We’re having breakfast with our parents, and apparently Nico has been upset that we got a night to ourselves.” 

“Pobrecito,” she replies with a newfound level of English sarcasm. She spent the wedding reception avoiding the dance floor, engaged in a long conversation with your father. The topics spanned over most areas of life, and briefly touched upon how you are doing now. Alexia, with much pleasure, confirmed the improvement, however miniscule it has been. She is very proud of you, and he is too. “I only want one thing for breakfast.” 

Her hands begin to roam, the band of her wedding ring hitting your pubic bone. “Mi vida, one more time won’t hurt,” she mocks you from before but in her sexier, Spanish husk, sucking at your collarbone, straddling your waist.

You replace your near moan with a thoughtful hum. “I really want pancakes. Do you think they’ll make me some?”

Downstairs, where it is brighter and impossible to conceal the hickeys on both of your necks, you greet your parents, brother, Anya, and Gio. Alexia’s mother, her sister, and Jenni are sitting at the table, too. Your baby is pretending he isn’t teething, and grinning like an angel. 

“How’s married life?” Anya asks as you take a seat opposite her, Alexia to your right. The table has a gradient of bilingualism, but Gio discovered that she picks up Spanish quite easily considering she can already speak one romance language. “We’ve already found, like, four articles talking about it.” 

“How?” you ask, but you are not offended. 

Gio shrugs. “Drones, I guess. Nothing bad, though. Some speculation about the other bride – if the article does mention that. Most talk is on the dress.” It was a bloody good dress. “And I suspect that there’ll be a juicy little question about who was your Maid of Honour.” 

“Don’t be salty,” you tell her. The MOH issue was sorted out years ago – perhaps 2015 – when you binged Friends together despite having watched it thousands of times before. Anya has been yours, Gio will be hers, and you will be Gio’s. And they say trios never work. 

“I left Mia with her dad for this.” 

“You shouldn’t have had a baby with a man-slag,” Anya says with a snort, enjoying her second mimosa and Gio’s grimace at the idea of her daughter having to put up with her father’s revolving door of one-night-stands. “You’re one to make terrible decisions. At least our girl over here’s married someone who looks at her like she’s hung the moon.” 

Alexia turns to you with a smile, as if on cue, with Nico in her lap. You glance at his rounded cheeks and shining eyes, looking back up at your friends as though to check they are still there. Alexia leans forwards so that she can whisper in your ear. “Te amo. Nico, también. Mi familia es perfecta.” 

…

Returning to Barcelona comes with one negotiated condition on your part. You buy a bigger apartment, where there is space for an office and extra bedrooms. Alexia says her teammates will be taking the piss out of her grand new place the minute she sees it, but she is more than content to contribute to the finances with her new-and-improved salary for this season. “It’s weird to think that I’m from Mollet,” murmurs Alexia, standing in the middle of the large lounge area, surrounded by boxes. Most are from your old flat, but a few have been flown in from London. Alexia wanted you to have your Grammy with you. “This place is so fancy.” 

“It’s half of what the men’s team get,” you remind her, holding Nico with care as he gnaws away on a frozen carrot. His saliva drips onto you, but the antidepressants are working, and the therapy has been effective enough for you to start taking childcare in turns. (You had tried to previously, but Alexia wanted you to focus on yourself, knowing that things will change for all of you once the season started.) “Hey.” You place your hand on her shoulder. She tickles Nico’s chin. “We deserve this. You deserve this. Why don’t you host one of your team’s dinners? I’ll take Nico round to your mum’s – God knows she’d love to shove some food down my throat, too.” 

She shakes her head, strands of brown unstraightened due to the stress of the move and falling out of her bun with a determination to defy her hair bobble. “They would kill me if I did it without you. They’re all far too grateful that you invited Taylor Swift to our wedding.” 

“She’s a friend.” If you hadn’t been distracted by various other happenings that night, you’d have clocked that Alexia’s side of the guests were completely up to their ears in celebrities they’d never expected to meet. “Okay, so do you want me to stay here?” 

“I always want you to stay here,” she answers. 

“Not what I meant.” 

“I won’t take it back.” 

Nico babbles an incoherent yet cutely Spanish-y noise, though his words are getting closer to being said at the old age of eight months. Then, suddenly, something in him clicks. “Mama,” he squeals, his little fist scrunching up the fabric of your t-shirt. “Mamama.”

“Nicolau!” Alexia replies with just as much enthusiasm, cupping his cheeks. She kisses his nose, and then his forehead, and then his chubby knees and socked feet. “Nicolau, sí, la mama et té a las mans! Bon noi, el meu bon i intel·ligent noi.” 

“Does that count?” 

“Mama,” Nico repeats, tugging your earlobe. “Mama. Mama.” It is easy to forget about the (lessening) resentment you harbour when he speaks. Alexia gets him to say it as many times as she can before he goes back to his carrot, but, even then, the two of you stay in that spot, marvelling at your creation. 

Slowly, she turns around in a circle, absorbing the plain walls and towers of boxes. “This is going to be good. Life is going to be good,” you declare with such a firmness that it has to be true. “Darling, let’s get to unpacking and then we can think about a date for this dinner party.” 

“We are going to plan the party?” She raises her eyebrows at you. “Is this party going to start at five o’clock?” 

“Not all of us shit yellow and red.” (In a national sense – you’d have haemorrhoids for United any day of the week.)

Alexia takes Nico off you, in a show of cultural dominance. You’re actually outnumbered, considering he isn’t a British Citizen, and though he shares no DNA with your wife, he has inherited the same ability to narrow his eyes just enough to serve absolute cunt whenever he so pleases. If you weren’t feeling so ganged up on, you’d be a little impressed. “Nico y yo vamos a hacer croquetas de jamón. Adiós.” 

“Darling, the kitchen isn’t–” But you cut yourself off, deciding that she can discover that on her own, along with the criminally empty fridge. You don’t hide your smugness at all when she finds you in your almost-finished bedroom, wearing a look of utter disappointment and mumbling out a heartbroken request for a food delivery as soon as possible. 

…

November marks three years of being together and, also, four weeks of having Alexia’s ‘DNA’ – a pomeranian called Nala, whose Instagram account is run by her favourite parent after you called it silly and told your wife you’d much rather attend to your own seventeen million followers. 

Towards the end of the month, after a well-spent morning and then a family outing to Barcelona Zoo, Alexia meets Jenni Hermoso in a restaurant in what Jenni calls ‘your new rich-people neighbourhood’ in her text to Alexia.

Alexia, really and truly, is happy to have her best friend back in Barcelona. She missed her last year, when Jenni had returned to Atleti, and that separation maybe made what happened the night Spain was knocked out of the World Cup just that bit more understandable. “You’re a Culer, no matter how hard you try to fight it,” Alexia had said when she had climbed back into her own bed, not wanting to fall asleep in Jenni’s arms. “It was terrible to not have Y/n or you.” 

You and Jenni: Alexia’s people. 

“How’s your wife?” Jenni asks with a grin, two glasses of wine into a pleasant evening at an expensive restaurant. “You’ve left her with Nico, so something must be working.” 

In truth, you have been determined to get better. There were articles released not long after the photos of your wedding were circulated, and those speculated a lot about how you are finding motherhood. The baby pictured, captured by long-range lenses and invasive drones, was the world’s first glimpse at what Nico Putellas L/n looks like, and reminded many of them that you had a child to care for when in London, yet were frequently spotted at nightclubs and parties. You rise to most challenges, however, and find it a lot easier to adapt to weekly therapy sessions and pills every morning when you have a wrongful image to disprove. 

“It’s as if it never happened,” Alexia says, both with pride and surprise. “She now seeks to spend time with him. She takes him with her to the recording studio – the album’s coming along well.” It’s your first on your own. Nico plays with one mixing desk, while Dave (flown in from London with the promise that the Barcelona sun will do wonders for his wife’s misery) plays with another. “And… Jenni, we’ve been talking. The clinic that we used for Nico asked us if we wanted to reserve sperm when we first had him, and now they have called asking if now is a good time. I think… I think that she is really considering it. She told me yesterday that her therapist wants me to sit in on the next session, so we can go over how we can make this time different.” 

Jenni frowns, which is not what the woman opposite her had expected at all. “Why are you two having more children? You’re only twenty-five, Ale. Isn’t this going to affect your career?” 

“The men do it all the time.” She’s done a spot of research. They are younger than her when their girlfriends start getting pregnant, and they continue to play with the added admiration that they are fathers as well. 

“Yes, but they have the benefit of getting paid millions. They don’t have to fight with their federation for pitches or pay, and they can focus on football without their career sparking controversy for even existing.” 

“Then my children will grow up with a mother who fights for change.” 

“Or they grow up with a pop star who only wants things she cannot have and a footballer who can’t spend any time with them because she is too busy speaking at various conventions so that the next league match isn’t cancelled.”

“Jenni, do you think your opinion would be different if Y/n was a man?” 

This elicits laughter from the other woman, who rolls her eyes in a way that can only be described as condescending. “Alexia, you’re forgetting that I’m a lesbian too, which is a magnificent feat.” Jenni references the kiss they shared, and what happened after that. “But, no. I don’t. I want you to be the greatest footballer in the world, and you want that too. What are you going to do when Y/n tells you she wants to move back to England? Are you going to give up your future here for her?” 

The waiter interrupts briefly, collecting their empty plates and carting them off with a mission to retrieve the bill after a sharply declined offer for the dessert menu. “You don’t even know if that will happen,” Alexia scoffs, though she is a little sad that her exciting news hasn’t been well-received. “I was going to say that I’d think about the name Jennifer if it ends up being a girl, but now I’m leaning more towards María…”

She is kicked under the table, and she has to hold in her cry of pain because this restaurant is one of your favourite places to eat. “Mapi cannot have this victory over me. She’d be insufferable. Ale, you simply aren’t allowed to do that.” There’s another kick, but it is more playful this time. 

Alexia laughs, smiling and thankful that the tension has diffused. “I’m only joking. Y/n has a list scribbled in the back of her lyric book. She’ll probably be called Elena.” That is much more acceptable to Jenni’s ears, and she files that information away for next year, when she’ll tell Mapi that Alexia doesn’t like her name.

…

It works. Alexia and you are lucky. The doctor tells Alexia that, if she were a man, the two of you would have to be extremely careful. Your wife marvels at your ability to destroy your body and stay fertile, but she supposes that you are not the kind of woman to be a lesbian. Sometimes, she wakes up in a cold sweat, believing that you have changed your mind and left her. 

The New Year is a fresh start. Alexia decides to fix the (not so) hidden cracks in your relationship. She confides in her newly-acquired therapist. She may have made a mistake once; the secret is sandwiched between her worries about your susceptibility to depression and how Nico is a decided food critic. 

Though the therapist, a lovely bilingual woman named Sofía, raises her eyebrows, she does not pry. She slides a paper calling card over to Alexia. The paper squeaks along the coffee table between the two comfortable armchairs of the office. “I specialise in couples. Seeing as your wife is already a client of mine, I think you should consider a joint session.” Alexia is new to the idea of mental health. Before, she had been too focused on football to care about it. Even when her father died, any professional she spoke to was only hearing how her mind worked because she knew it was what was best for her performance. “And, Alexia.” She looks up at the therapist with a small, nervous smile. “Congratulations on the pregnancy. I am sure Nico will make a wonderful older brother.” 

Morning sickness drags you out of your shared bed most days. 

Alexia asks you about couples’ therapy when you have finished your dry-heaving one morning. 

“I mean,” you begin before pausing, gulping down the sour taste in your mouth and hoping nothing else is trying to hit the toilet water until tomorrow. “Sorry.” 

“Don’t apologise.” She is dressed in her training kit, but she slings her jumper over your shoulders as soon as you shiver. “Do you think it’s a good idea?” 

“It would do no harm.” As long as Sofía does not bring up Alexia’s confession, your statement will ring true. “You book the appointment. It’ll be easier to work around your schedule that way.” 

“When are you flying back to London?” Her question is not filled with hatred for the city, but with resignation to the fact that your job involves you being stretched between here and there. 

“Not until next month. I thought that I could take Nico to an away game with my dad if I got a flight for Saturday. The rest of the week would be interviews and photoshoots.” 

“How’s the album doing?” 

So far, your songs are only written when Alexia has paid you enough attention to swirl your thoughts and blur your vision. It is in these moments that the lingering, sinking weight inside of you dissipates. “Dave remains hopeful. It won’t fail, but I need it to be better than what we currently have.” 

Shamelessly, Alexia is aware of her effect on your songs. She smirks; “Alba has been begging to babysit, you know.” With no care for your current state, Alexia’s eyes rake up and down your body. You grow embarrassed by how you are slumped over the toilet, and how she is standing above you as though she runs your world. “You look beautiful, mi amor,” she murmurs as you bashfully duck your head between your bent arms. 

“You’re a flirt.” It feels too late for her to still be in the flat. “And you’re going to miss training if you don’t get a move on. There are eggs in the fridge, and Nico definitely liked the omelette you made him a few days ago. He’ll be waking up soon.”

A small sigh escapes the midfielder’s lips, but the prospect of the things she loves most in the world appearing in her life consecutively is enough to convince her to pad her way out the bathroom, swanning into the corridor with a little grin on her face as she sings out ‘bon dia’ to an impressively multilingual toddler and heads into the kitchen with the domestic intention of getting breakfast started. She leaves an omelette out for you, which you attack shortly after Alexia and Nico disappear into their daily routine. She drops him off at preschool, and you pick him up a few hours later, taking him first for lunch with Alba, and then to the studio. 

You come home to a showered Alexia who is memorising her most recent match. She lets Nico slide into her lap without hesitation, but she stays focused on the football even when he tugs on the strands of hair falling out of ponytail. You marvel at the idea of having enough room in your heart for so much love. You decide that you are not like Alexia, though it is not necessarily a terrible thing. A further observation from watching your wife settle her son with a calm, muttered Catalan telling-off, coaxing him into loving football as though he does not already, is that you are so very content with your life at the moment. 

But 2020 kind of sucks. 

For the entire world. 

You’re cut off from your home in any other manner than a digital one, and being stuck in a luxurious penthouse in Barcelona isn’t the worst fate, but it really isn’t ideal. 

Elena, however, has the benefit of coming into the world with ever (physically) present parents, who could recite the java script for Zoom given that they spend hours on therapy calls. Elena, bright and smiley and the picture of her mother, spends the first few months of her life in a happy, happy family, protected by an entire football team and a fierce older brother. (And a yappy Pomerianian called Nala.) 

“Y/n doesn’t like the name María,” Jenni tells Mapi when Alexia sends the first picture of your new addition to the Barcelona group chat. 

“The next baby is going to be a Jennifer,” Mapi says, to both the forward and the unimpressed midfielder walking a few paces in front of such a silly conversation. “For that, I can only feel sorry for her.” 

…

The routine changes the following year. 

It starts with an abrupt but expected conversation. One that Alexia has been dreading. 

Your album – the first one that is just you – was released two months ago, and it has done too well. Selfishly, Alexia had hoped it would fail. You have enough money, and she is earning more and more each season. Success, unfortunately, means that this little life can no longer exist. Or can it? 

“I have to do it,” you whisper to her, tears in your eyes though the smell of sex still lingers. The quietness of a child-free apartment allows for you to hear her gulp. “It’ll be different this time, darling, but I can’t be here anymore. I can’t fly out to London every few days. I can’t leave you with a five-month-old and a toddler when you are training every day and playing matches every weekend. It’s not fair on anyone.” 

Alexia kisses your bare shoulder, hands slipping round your waist as she pulls your sweaty body into her. Her chest presses against your back, but she is only behind you in this bed. She does not agree with you. She does not support it. But, like she always does, she bites her tongue. “If that’s what you want,” she replies, and part of you dies with the thought that she does not really care. “I love you. I want what’s best for you. For us.” And she tells Jenni all about it when she goes to see her a week later – the flimsy excuse of meeting a childhood friend for dinner enough to wrap a cloth around your eyes and leave you at home with a screaming toddler and a baby whose only flaw is that she grows distraught the moment she is put down. 

In the dimly lit living room, the tension hangs thick in the air. You lock eyes. “Why can't you just move with us? Everyone will want you, darling, and life would be easier,” you plead, a month down the line. The house in Highgate has been readied for your more permanent return. 

Alexia takes a deep breath, her gaze unwavering. “Why can't you get it into your head that I'm not leaving Spain or Barcelona? This is my home.”

“What about the children? School? Life? My career? Does it mean nothing to you?”

Her eyes soften. Your heart breaks, and the piece of you that has already died somehow dies again. “I'm thinking of the children. All the time, I think of them. About the reputation of my name – their name. Putellas, the greatest in the world, or Putellas, the one with potential wasted at West Ham?”

“You're being selfish, Lex,” you snap. “This is an opportunity for all of us, not just me. Think about their future!”

“Their future is here, in the culture they know, the languages they speak. I won't strip them of their identity for the sake of a 'better' life. And my career? I've worked too hard to build what I have here. I won't throw it away.” I don’t want to throw it away. Underscored by Don’t leave me again. 

The room echoes with the weight of her voice. “Their identity comes from both of us.” It’s too final for either of your liking. Elena begins to cry in her cot. “I want to try it. I want you to be open to trying it.” 

She gestures to the suitcases by the door. “Trying it and doing it are two different things. You’re taking them from me!” 

“You’re probably going to love life without them anyway!” you shout. You feel like the crying baby, except the tears rolling down your cheeks carry much more suffering than hers. “You’ll – what? You’ll go out with your friends, and you’ll be able to go to the gym whenever you want. No arguing, no crying, no toddler to entertain, no nappies to change. You never wanted children. I forced it upon you. I regret it, and I’m sorry. We’ll go.”

“Don’t go.” 

I don’t want you to go.

“I have to.” 

You turn your back to her as you fly through the corridor, prepared to console Elena in a taxi. Alexia slips her ring off her finger, and clutches it in her palm instead. Desperately, she searches for a solution. There is nothing within her reach, not even you. 

… 

She is an island amongst a sea of happy people. She is going to be the greatest footballer in the world. It kills her to realise that she can now focus on football. 

Nico starts nursery, attending the same school you once did. He adjusts to life in London seamlessly, and Elena does not seem to care either way. He learns more English every day, and his other mother calls him nightly to read to him. 

With childcare more than sorted, you are free to be interviewed, pictured, and invited to events. You rake in the publicity, especially after laying so slow over the course of the lockdown in Spain. 

“Alexia.” Jenni’s hands knead her tight shoulders, partly teasing her. Alexia wears a frown, eyebrows knitting together with an emotion she’s not sure she can name. “Ale, it’s the same game as always. Nothing has changed.” 

“I know,” she murmurs. “I don’t understand why I feel like this.” She has continued to speak to Sofía, though your joint sessions have now come to a halt while you spend your time doubling as a singer and model. The therapist, try as she might, cannot evaluate the situation effectively enough. Eli and Alba have both tried to help, hoping that weekly dinners and the constant reminder about the invention of aeroplanes would ease the turmoil of Alexia’s mind. It does not. “I am so alone, Jenni.”

Nala is too small to fill the emptiness of the flat. Screens don’t allow for her to kiss you, or play with Nico. She is scared she will miss Elena’s first words. 

“You don’t have to be.” 

It only takes a month for Alexia to break, and it sort of works. 

In Jenni’s bed, it works. Hips keening, soft pants falling from her mouth. 

Quiet moans that stay locked in Jenni’s apartment. 

Each time Alexia leaves, though Jenni repeatedly requests that she stays, she walks out as half a woman. She blinks back her tears and she checks her phone. When she calls you – not a video call – you are never any the wiser to the scratches down her back. 

Alexia remains an island, but the sand beaches are tainted with the arrival of someone else. 

In this way, she is functional. 

She can do sex. She can deal with borderline romance. She can fill the space that you are tearing open with every passing minute spent in that god-awful country you insist on calling home. She can fix it a little bit with Jenni. 

She tells herself that it does not mean anything more than a bandage means to a wound. Who wears the bandage once the gash has healed? 

Where does she put the used bandage? 

Why is she focused on bandages?! She’s having an affair. It’s not an affair! (It is.) Alexia doesn’t… quite… wanttoadmititjustyet.

…

The buzz of your phone is the final push that gets you to conclude the current interview you are trapped in. Before checking what the notification is, you glance at the time. You have half an hour before you need to pick up Nico, and your parents said they would drop Elena home once they returned from London Zoo. 

Alexia: Jenni has had a really good idea 

It’s an intriguing text amongst the more practical ones that oil the mechanics of managing the distance. Tonight, Barcelona play their last match of the season. After this, she’ll be flying out to London. You have missed her. The last time you saw her in person was after Barcelona embarrassed Chelsea in Gothenburg. Elated and filled with pride, it was incredibly nice to have the biggest room in the hotel to yourselves. Her medal was almost as beautiful as her. 

You: Go on…

Alexia: Just draw a heart on Nico’s hand from me porfa. You’ll see. 

You slide into the driver’s seat of your newest self-indulgent car; a Porsche. Momentarily distracted by a camera flash, your turn onto the main road is a little risky, but you manage to make it to the school in time to collect your son. 

“Was he good?” you ask his teacher as she hands you Nico’s book bag. You take in the sight of him: hair messy, school uniform stained though they require the little ones to wear aprons for most of the day. “It’s a little different here. I’m hoping that he’s enjoying himself.” 

“Our new assistant is from Spain,” says the teacher with a small, tired smile, batting her long eyelashes at you. “We had to pry him off her.” 

You let out a laugh. “He misses his mum.” 

“He’s extremely intelligent. He knew to speak Spanish to her and English to us.” Though your grasp of Spanish is near-fluent after such reluctance from your wife to try English, you know that the two-year-old has a talent for juggling the three languages he is growing up around. You’re proud of him. “You shouldn’t worry about him. And, speaking of, we have a parents’ coffee morning just around the corner. It’s always great for the parents to get along – it helps the school feel even more like a family. Will it just be you attending?” Nico’s teacher is around your age, and you can smell her rose perfume that mingles with the soft hint of ready-mixed paint. She has deep, brown eyes, and she is definitely flirting with you. 

“Next week, right? I’ll have to check with my wife.” 

It’s then that a toddler-sized hand grips your fingers and tugs. “Mama, me voy,” he groans; something akin to Alexia’s impatience. It reminds you of when you used to go shopping and she’d herd you out with the threat of getting in the car and driving away. “Venga.” 

“One sec, sweetheart.” There are countless ways in which you miss Alexia. “My wife and I would love to come.” 

Her smile does not falter on her lips, but there is a greyish disappointment that dulls the warmth of her irises. You smile as you turn your back and lead Nico to the car. You are so excited for Alexia to complete the broken puzzle. 

You melt when she kisses the heart drawn onto her hand when celebrating her goal. Nico copies her, lips pursing and sloppily mimicking the action on a similar heart. “For you, sweetheart,” you tell him as he settles back into your side, careful not to jostle Elena who has fallen asleep on your chest (the therapist did wonders for you). 

“It was for you,” Jenni tells Alexia after the match. Her goal is now serving as the move Alexia feared she’d make. They have changed and been massaged and done the media the are required to do (women’s football is growing): they are free to roam Barcelona if they so wish. 

Her flight is tomorrow evening – “I have a flight tomorrow evening.” 

“Come over tonight.” It isn’t a question, yet it is not quite a command. Mapi passes the two of them, eyes narrowing at the way Jenni has wrapped her hand around Alexia’s wrist. The defender is aware that something is going on, though it breaks her heart to imagine Alexia ever doing that to you. Not knowing they are being watched, Alexia steps in; cups Jenni’s face, brushes her cheekbone with a stroke of her thumb Mapi knows is meant for her wife. Mapi’s stomach lurches. She feels sick. 

“I need to…” It’s not a ‘no’. “Jenni.” She hates that it is not a ‘no’. 

“Ale.” There’s a beat. Mapi blinks twice, shakes her head, and backs away. “I’ll miss you, you know?” 

… 

Jenni doesn’t seem to mind when, the next day, blurry pictures of you on a family outing make rounds through the tabloids she usually doesn’t read. The fact that, up until now, no one has known that your wife is Alexia Putellas has no effect on her. She was stupid for thinking the last six months meant something. Winning together, losing together. Sleeping together. 

In this deal, Alexia has fucked over both women who love her. Except, you don’t know. She hasn’t told you, though Jenni had hoped for it secretly – hoped Alexia chose her – and it is obvious. Obvious to Jenni, who is well acquainted with the blonde hair in the wings of your concert at the O2. Obvious to Jenni, who refuses to think of herself as the other woman. 

She consults Mapi. 

Mapi, who she has come to shamefully realise already knows. 

“I can’t believe the two of you.” The defender is clear in her distaste and disappointment and, honestly, her disgust. “But I am not going to be the one to break that poor girl’s heart.” 

“I’m not asking you to.” 

What is she asking? What does she want from this utterly useless conversation? 

“Mapi.” Jenni closes her eyes, but she sees two faces instead of darkness. Nico. Elena. She’s Elena’s godmother. You decided that – convinced Alexia to choose her best friend over her younger sister, told your wife that there’d be another for Alba to corrupt. “Mapi, I love her. I don’t know what to do.” 

“She loves her wife.” The next sentence proceeds to brutally remind Jenni who that isn’t. “Tell her you’re done. Find someone else. Anyone but her.” 

That is Jenni’s resolve, because she knows that Mapi is right. 

… 

June, July, and August pass with bliss. 

Everyone says that you are a beautiful couple with beautiful children. Alexia beams with pride as she flaunts her practised English, and gladly claims ownership of Nico when he wins a prize on speech day. Every child in Reception is awarded something but that doesn’t stop her from boasting.

She explores the country with the children while you shack up in the recording studio, and brings hugs and kisses (and Red Bull) every evening after dinner. The visits are what reminds you of the sun Alexia brings, especially as the warmth follows her from Barcelona and London is blessed with golden days. Dog days. 

“This isn’t permanent.” Alexia looks up from her phone, comfortable in your bed. The house in Highgate has flecks of Spain woven into the decor now, and you like it that way. 

You climb into the bed beside her, and her arm lifts so that you can snuggle into her chiselled stomach (wow, she has been working hard this season). “What’s Jenni saying?” you ask, following your statement and hoping you’ll get her attention. She presses her phone screen into the duvet before you can translate the message – it is too long of a paragraph for you to handle. “Anyway, I wanted to tell you that this isn’t permanent.” 

Alexia, over the past few months, has been the most affectionate, loving, amazing person with the same smile and giggle you married. You thought she had disappeared and was replaced with stern, career-focused Alexia Putellas, jugadora del fútbol. You were wrong. 

“I’m thinking January is when we’ll come back. Nico’s English will survive.” Your parents are going travelling. They’ve never been on the Orient Express before. “I want to be with you.” 

It is a good thing Jenni has just broken up with her. 

“I love you,” you continue. “So much.” 

Alexia hums. Her heart breaks, and she does not know for whom. “¿En serio?” She is happy, she thinks. Certainly, she is glad that the four of you will be reunited. 

 You are. 

January 2022 ruins things for Jenni Hermoso. She calls Pachuca back. 

[haruchi-slit]

"THERAPY IS EXPENSIVE BUT DICK IS FREE"

warnings: mdni, toji and reader meet in the bar, ooc (slight?), reader refered as: girl & slut, fucking against the wall, p in v, pussy eating, semi-public sex, not proof read... | a/n: almost scrapped this idea cause i had a migraine, i almost died :o

so exhausted from work and life? why not go have fun once in a while with your friends at the club? it had been a long and difficult week for you, dealing with the aftermath of your broken engagement to your now ex-fiance.

working under the pressure of your personal life is damn tough, you can't even get one work done without breaking into tears, remembering your fiancé of 5 years left you for some girl he met at work, his voice still echoes non-stop in your brain, the night he confronted you about your relationship, "I'm sorry, but i cant do this i cheated on you..." and it just makes your heart pulse and fuel with hatred and pain, with your hand in your head you sighed deeply as you continued to type in your laptop, your mascara all ruined and your eyes were sore, "I can't believe he can do that, fucking bitch, fucking shit, goodness burn in hell!" you grunt as you broke in to tears, you were a crying mess, you lolled your head back to your chair as streams of tears overwhelmed your thoughts,

"fuck-" you sighed, before hearing a knock on your office door, "w-wait!" you grumbled, wiping off your tears with the back of your hand, you stood up catching your breath as you opened the door you were greeted by shoko with yuki,

"heyyy! what are you two doing here?" you forced a smile, "girl are you ok? your fucking mascara is all over your face!" shoko worriedly asked as she nursed your cheeks wiping off your messed up mascara, "shoko, take a closer look, do you think she's ok? of course not, duh!" yuki blurted out as you chuckled,

"ok- guys what the fuck are you guys doing here?" you uttered,

"to get you outta misery!" yuki snickers, "yeah, what yuki said-" shoko sighed, "were taking you to the club, to destress" shoko continued,

"but i have work to do-" you dabated, "no butts, it's already been 2 months! i already talked to nanamin, he said it's fine and choso will take care of your work!" yuki exclaimed.

"you guys know i have to change right?" you rolled your eyes, sitting in the backseat of yuki's car, "yeah, that's why we brought you a some...stuff" shoko reaches out for the paper bag in the back of the car before giving it to you, "just change here in the car, the window's tinted" yuki chuckles as she focused on the road...

as soon as the three of you arrived at the club, you stepped out of the car along with yuki and shoko "youu look so fineee!" yuki smiled holding both of your hands, "damn, thank you", you smiled back, "guys c'mon let's go, i need a drink asap" shoko snapped the two of you back before she walked in the club, "yee let's have fun!" yuki exclaimed dragging you in the club, the three of you sat on the couch while the music blasts against your ears, it was so loud, the flickering lights blinded you as you looked around.

your eyes focused to the girls and guys bumping to each in the dancefloor, the stage crowded with girls doing the most nastiest moves as cash blows around them, till a particular person caught your attention, raven dark hair, green piercing eyes, tall and broad, bulging muscles and someone who looks like they're in their mid 30's, he's so fucking fine, glamorous even. while the three of you chat, and drink you and that gorgeous man exchanged the glares, he gives you one of the finest smirks across the club, all you could do was stare at him with a unconscious smirk plastered in your face,

"who are you looking at?" yuki sheepishly asked, while she waved one of her eyebrows, "definitely no one" you scoffed, as you swirled your alcohol in the glass cup, "oh really?" shoko jested, the three of you laughed, you took a glance on him once more while you sipped your alcohol to its last drop, you pressed your eye lids together as the alcohol flow down your throat.

"agh- let's go and have fun" you hissed, wiping of the alcohol that trickled down on the edges of your lips with your hand, "shitttt, and here we go the old her is backkk!" shoko exclaimed with yuki following you to the dance floor, where people are grinding against each other, you swayed your way close to him, you knew it was risky, flirting with a stranger in a bar, but you couldn't resist the opportunity to forget your dumb ass ex, you got a little closer to him grabbing his attention, "hey there mama, are you alone?" he starts of, radiating with charmness and suave, with a hint of danger in his dark eyes that only made him more appealing, "nah, I'm with my friends, here to forget my fucking ex" you drawn out hazed with the shots of alcohol you've just drunk, "oh really?" he chuckles "yeah, that fucking bitch wasted five years. five fucking years" you huffed, rolling your eyes, he smirks clearly amused by you, "toji. name's toji" he spoke and he was so fucking smooth with it, you chuckled in response, "no, need to know my name...toji" the both of you talked for what seemed like hours, lost in each other's company and the music pulsing through the club. you found yourself grinding against him as your conversation flowed so smoothly,

"y'know, i can take your pain away, hah" he whispers, his hot breath fanning your ear, sending shivers to your core,

before you knew it, toji was leading you to the club's restroom, his touch was gentle and reassuring, yet it was so rough, as he guided you through the crowd, you felt a surge of adrenaline at the thought of what was about to happen, a mix of fear and desire swirling in your veins as he pushed open the door and pulled you inside, you were so drunk in his presence...

in the dimly lit restroom, toji's lips met yours in a searing kiss that ignited a fire within your thobbing cunt. you instantly melted against him, with your body responding to his touch with a need that eclipsed all rational thought,

"t-touch me more-hah! kiss me more, please!" you gasped, as his hand roamed freely on you, his hand tracing on the edges and crevices of your perfect body, giving the attention that it needs, which your ex didn't do, he pressed you against the wall, his hands roaming over your body with a hunger that matched with your own, he rolled your dress up to your chest, almost ripping it off, he'd kiss your forehead before his kisses traveled down to your shoulders, stomach, before he dropped down to his knees, facing your clothed aching cunt,

"all I've done was touch and kiss you- so fucking wet already?" toji huffs, as you struggled to stand properly inside the bathroom stall, he tugs the hem of your panties as letting it pool down to the floor of the restroom, you placed your hand to his broad shoulders, the other on his hair, you saw him lick his lips, before diving down to your pulsing cunt, pushing you deep on the cold wall of the restroom, his hand grabbed a handful of your ass and thighs placing it on his shoulder prying your legs a little bit wider,

"hmmmnn~" you'd groan, stealing a pleased hum from you, as the brige of his graced your clit while he bobs his head up and down, you could feel his grunts vibrating against your gushing pussy, matched with his skilled tongue laying on your dripping cunt,

"t-toji- hgh" you moaned gripping on his hair, as he continues to bob his head on you,

"toji-" you moaned once again, with a breathy plea, "easy-" he purrs, before diving once more between your thighs, your thighs quivered as you feel your climax near.

in that moment, there was only toji and you locked in a dance of desire and need that transcended words, he moved his tongue in your cunt with grace and skill that took your breath away, with each lick he made sent you higher and higher towards a climax that left you gasping for more, "c'mon, girl..." he murmured fanning your cunt with his scorchingly hot breath, you felt your breath hitch as your climax gushed on his face,

"hghhh-toji!" you gasped, breathless.

catching your while he stood up hungrily unbuckling his belt, letting his pants fall down on the floor along with his boxers, revealing his hard cock, before he landed a rough, passionate kiss on your tender lips, you respond to him, feeling butterflies filling your

stomach, as your knees fell weak, your mouths puffing heated breaths agaist each other, while your hands roamed freely on him.

he lifts you up and pressed your body to the restroom's wall as he aligned his angry tip on your entrance, before plunging his cock in you

"ahck!- ngh~" you moaned softly as your gummy walls was quick to wrap toji's aching cock, toji grunts as he pushed you deeper against the wall burying his cock on your heavenly cunt,

"mhmm, that's what i like, girl- sucking me in so good, such a slut" he laughs, thrusting deeper in you, as waves of ecstasy, washed all over your body, your eyes clouded with haze and lust, your legs instinctively wrapped against his waist as he plunged mercilessly in your pussy, "fwuaack-!" he blabbered as sweat trickled down on his forehead, your chests heaving uncontrollably while toji buries his face on the crook of your neck, fastening his pace, "so.fucking.tight!" he cursed under his breath, while he slams his hips on you,

"to-to'i m' close, m' close!" you warned,

and soon after both of you felt a sense of release wash over your bodies, feeling estatic, both of you catched your breath as you feel your mixed juices trickle down the floor, he pulls back and faced you...

"so- uh what's your name?" toji inquired..

meanwhile, "where the fuck is she?" shoko asked yuki, as she puffs out a cigarette smoke, "I don't know!"

[starryschoolgirl]

Family & Fame

An attempt at a Elvis x Reader drabble

Summary -> In private Elvis was your loving husband and you were his doting wife, but in public Elvis was Elvis Presley, and you were just the wife. Unfortunately, sometimes that public dynamic would follow the two of you home, making way for arguments.

Warnings -> Jealousy, marital dissatisfaction, arguments, very cute and domestic 1st scene though, if you only want some pure fluff read that first scene it's adorable, denial of sex, yelling, swearing, flirty fans, circa 1956, Elvis' confusion leads to anger, Elvis is such a cutie I can't even be mad at him in this. Elvis is also a dad in this because I felt like it.

WC -> 3.5k

Request -> "i was wondering if you could write something with elvis x reader where there's a little marital dissatisfaction? just like a little drabble, doesn't even need to be over 100 words"

"You look handsome, now stop fussing"

Elvis leaned into your hand that cupped his cheek which was smooth from being freshly shaved.

"Now,"

You reached down for the comb on the hotel suite's bathroom counter, holding it casually between two fingers. While you smiled up at him your thumb stroked his cheekbone gently as you asked,

"Would ya hold still so I can fix that mess of hair?"

Elvis laughed softly and turned his cheek slightly to press his lips on your palm, smirking sweetly as he murmured against the skin,

"Sure thing Mama…"

With a smile you stilled his head by keeping your hold on his cheek, tapping it lightly you signaled for him to get lower, which he complied with as he bent his knees slightly, lowering himself to a height that you could see the top of his hair better.

As you neatly combed the gelled mess back into place you mumbled fondly,

"See what happens when a man fusses over his appearance? Just makes it worse, you men, so reckless with your hands…"

He asked testily with a smirk,

"And when a woman fusses over her appearance?"

You simply responded with one last perfecting swoop of the comb,

"Women don't fuss."

He drawled out a sarcastic, "Mhm…"

To which he was answered with a pointed, "Mhm."

After feeling pleased with your work you placed the comb down and smiled up at him, "Perfect", you said just before kissing his cheek.

You then turned to the long bathroom mirror that covered the entire length of the long marble countertops, leaning over it ever so slightly to rub at the skin around your lipstick, making sure it wasn't off-kilter in any way.

He smoothly stepped behind you, the front of his body pressed against the back of yours as his spine bent with yours, leaning over you onto the bathroom counter as you eyed him through the mirror. His arms wrapped around your waist and his chin fell to your shoulder as he stared back at you through the mirror.

His voice was low and gruff as he suggested,

"We don't really gotta go to this little gatherin' tonight now do we? Couldn't we just enjoy the rest of our time in San Francisco? We got about 10 more hours."

Elvis punctuated each sentence with a kiss to your neck, right in that spot he knew you were ticklish. You laughed softly and gently batted him away with a few swipes of your hand which in turn made him laugh.

You spoke while trying (and failing) to keep a serious face,

"Elvis, t-the mayor-"

Your laughing made it hard to put together a proper sentence.

"He's holding this soirée tonight in honor of you coming to- Ack..!"

Elvis laughed and said sarcastically before biting your ear,

"Oh, a soirée? I'm sorry little Ms. French I didn't know it was such a big deal"

You tried your best to continue through the giggle-fest Elvis could pull from you.

"Don't you w-wanna show them all that Southern charm you used to get me to marry you?"

Elvis growled playfully as his hands wrapped around your waist tightened and he picked you up from behind, evoking a squeal of surprise from you as he mumbled into your ear,

"Ya make it sound as if I schemed on you with those charms"

You laughed loudly as he held you up and responded,

"You did scheme on me! Made me think I was marrying a John Wayne cowboy type, just to find out you're a Harpo Marx clownish type, but instead of playing a harp you play a guitar"

He growled into your ear "Oh you little-" before ravaging your neck with playful kisses.

A knock on the bathroom door interrupted your fun, the both of you turning to see it soon opening after Elvis', "Come in Roberta"

As the door opened you smiled to see Roberta, the sweet old lady who'd been working for you and Elvis since a month or two after he released his first RCA record which brought in the money needed to have a personal nanny for yours and Elvis' daughter, sweet little Charlotte, who she was holding as she stood in the doorway.

Roberta smiled as she saw her two employers as in love as ever in each other's arms, the both of you looking like a million bucks in your outfits for tonight.

"Well kids, I just wanted to let the two of ya know Charlotte is all dressed and ready to go, and that the bellboy said the car's out front and ready.

She was much older so even though you and Elvis were adults, she still referred to the both of you as kids, because the two of you in life experience were like kittens compared to a sweet old cat like her.

You smiled and quickly made your way to take your daughter out of her nanny's arms, cooing over how darling she looked in her little dress and coat before saying with a smile, "Thank you, Roberta."

You looked back at Elvis as you bounced Charlotte in your arms, asking with a soft smile,

"Could you grab my purse over by the sink Honey?"

-----

Sometimes you forget how Elvis' emotions could flip like a switch.

One moment before walking into the big building as Elvis held Charlotte and nervously stared at the doors, you'd cup his cheeks gently and whisper reassuringly, "Hey, everybody here is here for you, to just be around you. You're the man of the evening, they're the ones who should be nervous right now, and I bet you they are"

And then the next, you're holding your sweet daughter in your arms while Elvis is holding some random girls (who you're sure are somebody's sweet daughters) in his arms as he's telling them what "overcomes" him to make him move on stage.

You could vomit, you really could, at the way they all put their hands mindlessly on his chest, and 'ooh' and 'ah' over him explaining what it was like for him to film his upcoming debut film "Love Me Tender"

You got along well with the mayor's wife and a few of San Francisco's socialites who were older women which meant they weren't here for Elvis they were here because their husbands who were close friends of the mayor were here. Due to their disinterest in Elvis, they were easy to make casual conversation with.

The younger women, however, were a different matter. Most of them clung to Elvis or waited their turn to do so. And as you watched from afar you were well aware you could go over there to claim what was yours, but you didn't feel the need to. The ring was on your finger, and his child was in your arms. Sure, he didn't often make eye contact with you through the night like he always used to, but that was just because he was surrounded by so many fans. Right?

Sometimes through the night, he'd shifted through the room to you, with a group of girls in his arms, only now it was a different set, and of course, the merry mayor following him closely, buttering up to America's icon. You shifted Charlotte to your hip as Elvis introduced you to the short, tubby man.

"This is my wife, and right there is our little girl, Charlotte."

The mayor tipped his head to baby Charlotte in your arms, "It's nice to meet you little miss, and," he then turned his head to you and held his hand out, "It's nice to meet you as well Mrs. Presley"

You laughed softly at the title and politely urged him to just call you by your first name.

The night went on like that, now and then a new important man would shuffle his way into the circle of girls that surrounded Elvis and the two of you would do introductions, eventually, Elvis had offered to hold Charlotte for you, and as he picked her up he smiled at her saying, "There's my little girl", making those big fish eyes that often entertained the little girl.

The women that surrounded him would coo at how sweet of a father he seemed to be. You only watched with an unimpressed look as one of the girls chimed in,

"She's blonde? I thought you said under that mop of shoe polish dyed hair was a light brown color, or are you just trying to fool me, Mr. Presley?"

The girl giggled and obnoxiously leaned her head against Elvis' shoulder and made a playful face at your daughter as she did so, clearly infatuated by the adorable baby, but not as much as she was with the man who had fathered the baby.

Elvis laughed softly at her jest, and responded simply,

"Well Hon, it's true that I have light brown hair now, but when I was a baby I had blond hair, it just turned brown as I got older, happens with a lotta babies"

The girl giggled once more and took an almost mournful sigh as she stared up at Elvis through her batting eyelashes (you were surprised she didn't fly away with how fast those things were flapping), and crawled her hand that rested on his chest a little higher as she spoke,

"I think I'd have to see that to believe it…"

Oh, brother.

You sighed softly at the ridiculousness of these girls, and the added ridiculousness of Elvis actually laughing and smiling along. He would get a little bit of nagging later. Thankfully you didn't have to stomach the situation too much longer as Charlotte began to cry. As Elvis tried to hush her and bounce her in his arms you smiled politely at the girls and made your way closer to Elvis.

As you took Charlotte from his arms you spoke softly,

"I think she's just a bit tired Elvis, I'll calm her in the car for a bit"

Elvis mumbled a soft 'Alright Hon', and caressed Charlotte's cheek gently with his index finger before leaning your way to kiss you. But, feeling as annoyed as you felt now, at the last second you'd turned your head, his lips landing on your cheek rather than your lips, his original target.

But he couldn't say anything as you'd already begun to walk off.

As soon as you slid into the backseat of the car, the driver asked where Elvis was. You explained that you and the little one were just resting up for a bit and that you weren't sure when Elvis would be through. Charlotte had calmed down and quite quickly fell asleep in your arms, the closing of her pretty little eyelids had marked the end of the party for you. You wouldn't leave your baby to sleep in the car alone, and you wouldn't force her to be awake for the rest of the party.

You didn't mind though as you felt all partied out yourself. As much as you hated to admit it, you don't think you ever could get used to seeing Elvis surrounded by girls and entertaining girls the way he'd been since his launch to fame.

You didn't think it was unfair of you to feel this way. It wasn't as if this was something planned when the two of you got together a few years ago. It was only recently that you'd had to start enduring Elvis Presley, the rock and roll heartthrob, and not just Elvis, the dorky boy who drove a truck and had a hard time putting together a neighborhood team to play football with him.

You closed your eyes with a sigh, resting a gentle hand upon your daughter's hair. You leaned your head against the car window, it was cold as the nights were beginning to have a little chill to them. The seasons were changing, and with them, so was Elvis.

Oh well, such is life.

-----

"…Just to the hotel Frank…"

You hummed softly at the familiar voice, pressing your head impossibly closer to the window as you tried to adjust to a more comfortable position. Just as you had settled comfortably back into the window a warm weight in the form of a hand pulled your head elsewhere. You were too tired to care, so you let it, your head soon resting comfortably on familiar broad shoulders.

That voice spoke again, but it seemed that in your half-asleep state, his voice kept coming in and out.

"…took me awhile, but… sorry… gotta entertain the fans…"

You felt annoyed by the voice interrupting your slumber, but you tried your best to ignore it after letting out a disgruntled hum.

It felt as though only a minute had passed since you'd gotten peace again before you heard that familiar voice, your husband's voice, whisper as his hand gently kneaded your shoulder, only now it was coming from the other side.

As you opened your eyes you saw the soft lighting of the hotel's sign lights spilling into the open door of the car along with Elvis' figure outside the car. Now it seemed he was holding a sleeping Charlotte in one arm as his hand tried to soothe you awake.

"C'mon Honey, we gotta get some sleep 'fore the flight"

You hummed softly and after mumbling a 'thank you' to your driver you got out of the car with the help of Elvis' steadying hand which naturally shifted to your hip after you were standing upright.

Elvis unlocked the room and kissed your cheek, mumbling something about the baby and Roberta, you were too busy on a mission to get out of this uncomfortable dress and still miffed at him, to care to process what he was saying. Your mission was to get to the bathroom to get ready for bed, as you made your way there you stopped by your suitcase to grab a short silk nightgown and your robe.

As soon as you stepped into the hotel's bathroom, and Elvis disappeared off to who knows where you could finally let out a breath. You were exhausted but you couldn't go to sleep just yet in your state. You tiredly shuffled over to the sink and began to take apart your pretty party appearance piece by piece. The hair clips that tugged at your scalp now rested on the sink, and the makeup that caked your face now caked a rag.

You struggled to reach the zipper of your dress, and for a moment your body went limp and you debated just going to bed in it. With your head hung tiredly and your eyes closed, you could've fallen asleep standing there had a set of familiar hands not graced your bare shoulders. Elvis' voice close to your ear as he asked through a smirk,

"Ya need help?"

You opened your eyes and looked at him through the mirror, you finally got a good look at him, his hair had been fussed with, could've been from him carding his hands through it throughout the night, or from one of those girls carding their hands through it. You nodded with a sigh, upset with him, but definitely in need of assistance.

As his rough fingers glided along your bare back before working at the zipper, Elvis' lips quickly fell to your neck, placing soft little pecks along the skin. You stared at him through the mirror blankly, and shook your head as you mumbled,

"Not tonight Elvis, I'm too tired…"

He hummed softly as the sound of the undoing of the zipper and the feeling of the dress loosening around your body filled your tired senses.

"Who says ya gotta put in effort Honey? I can handle ya the way I always do,"

You felt his lips curl into a smile against your skin as he murmured,

"I know how ya like it when you're tired…"

You sighed and tried pulling your neck away but his lips followed, and his hands began to explore you thoroughly as the only thing holding that dress on your body was his pressed so close against yours. You quickly stepped to the side, leaving him to shuffle forward as you were no longer there for him to lean his body against.

You kept a hand on your dress to hold it up on your body as he watched with furrowed brows.

"Elvis, I'm not in the mood for it tonight alright? We have a flight in a few hours, I want to get some sleep."

"Baby-"

Elvis reached his hand out to you but you took a step back and shook your head, a firm, "No, Elvis." leaving your lips as you walked to where you placed your nightwear with a hand still holding up your dress. Just as you began to head for the closed bathroom door he followed and asked,

"What's wrong Hon? W-what did I do to ya?"

His voice got louder as the confusion he felt was beginning to get him worked up,

"Seriously Baby, I took ya out to this nice party or fuckin' soirée or whatever pretentious bullshit you called it and this is the thanks I get?!"

You shoved him by the chest as you whisper-yelled, "You're gonna wake the baby..!"

Elvis scoffed as he took a step closer to you, practically caging you against the bathroom's door, his teeth were grit as he stared at you incredulously,

"You've been in a bad mood with me all night, seems like ya haven't even been listening�� I told ya I was puttin' her with Roberta tonight! You would know if ya didn't have a stick shoved so far up your ass."

You stared up at him, feeling a pang of hurt at his words. He continued,

"Actin' like you're too good to talk to any of the fans. Spendin' all ya time schmoozin' with the rich old hags who don't give a rat's ass about me or my music"

You abruptly yelled back at him, staring daggers up at him through your teary eyes,

"That's why I was with those women Elvis! Because when I'm hanging out with them I don't gotta watch as they make goo-goo eyes at my fucking husband! I don't need to watch them paw and grab at the father of my child!!"

Elvis shook his head with a scoff and looked away from you, still keeping his hands pressed against the door, caging you in one spot. He mumbled something along the lines of "naggin' me like a jealous old wife…", a term that had only become a thing said in your arguments since Elvis' rise to fame.

You cupped his cheeks in your hand and pulled him to look at you, your voice shook as you affirmed,

"That's cause I am a jealous old wife Elvis… And had I known I would've turned out this way when I married you a few years ago… I…"

Your voice had dissipated before you could finish your sentence. You stared down at the tiled floor of the bathroom. Elvis was still wearing his shoes, whereas yours had been off the moment you stepped into the room. You could see the creases in the shoe of the foot that he was tapping nervously, and you could see the way your toes scrunched tensely.

The bathroom was quiet, and Elvis' voice which was once full of defense was now softened as he spoke quietly,

"Now, ya don't mean that Baby. You're just tired is all…"

He looked down at his shoes nervously and then at himself through the mirror on the other side of the bathroom. His hands that once caged you in landed ever so gently on your arms, his words came out through nervous stutters,

"You were right, we-we gotta catch a-a flight. Better head to bed,"

There he goes. When things get just a little too real, when the words are just a little too honest, and when reality is a little too close to crashing into the both of you, he expertly redirects it all for another time. Wanting to keep his schoolboy fantasy of having a little family of his own intact.

The little fantasy that he would whisper in your ear late at night in high school as the two of you squeezed into his twin-size bed, knowing if he talked at a normal volume the very thin walls of his house would give way to his voice waking his parents in the small room on the other side of the wall.

The little fantasy that he assured your Daddy would come to fruition if he got your parent's blessing. And it seemed so as you soon gave birth to sweet Charlotte, but just months after she was born you saw the first few strands of that fantasy being shot to hell as Elvis' talent had started being recognized.

And though it had only been maybe a year or two since then, you felt as though the boy you married straight out of high school was becoming a man you didn't recognize. And while you could keep the fantasy with Elvis going when the two of you were alone such as during the time you spent getting ready with him, it all crumbled bit by bit as his love affair with the fans and the public would disrupt his love affair with his wife. And he would let it.

So, I meant it when I said it was supposed to be a drabble, less than 100 words, short and sweet, as requested by a lovely anon. Don't know what happened...

[cwritesforfun]

Regina George x Fem!Reader: Overnight Field Trip

Y/N = Your Name Your best friend = Sam

Your POV

You lean your head against the window of the bus with your headphones on and press play on your playlist. Your best friend, Sam, slides into the seat next to you passing you your favorite candy.

You get off to go pee and then look for a snack. Regina George is standing at the end of the aisle. Regina is new to your school after getting kicked out of her last one because she was the bully. You've only spoken to her once or twice because you share a few classes. She seems nice and she's really hot.

As you walk past Regina with your favorite snack, Regina calls after you, "Hey uh Y/N!" You turn around and say, "Yeah Regina, what's up?" She asks, "What's a good snack?" You answer, "Me." She smiles widely and says, "I think you're a full meal, baby." Flirty, you like that. You smile and say, "Touché Regina and the classic cheese squares are a good second option." She nods.

Back on the bus, you slide into your seat with your best friend. Regina walks past you and winks at you. Hot. Sam asks, "What was that?" You answer, "Just a friendly wink, why?" Sam answers, "Uh because she was kicked out for being a bully and she winked at you. I don't want you to get hurt." You answer, "I won't, but thanks for thinking of me." :)

You finally arrive at some lodge where you'll be staying with your English class for a few days. You'll be in the city to visit museums, explore, and see a play. It should be fun.

You wait for your English teacher to return and when she does, she announces that she's placing the room list up. She chose who we'll room with and we'll share with 3 people. You & Sam wait and finally, you get to the front. You're sharing with Sam, Regina, and Sam's crush, Casey. You & Sam walk off to find the other two. Casey walks up happily and Regina finds you soon after. You 4 head up to the room.

You're the first one in and you toss your stuff onto one side of one of the beds claiming it. Regina tosses her stuff on the other side of the same bed. You couldn't be happier. Hopefully, Sam is cool with sharing with Casey. You all change for a walk in the area and dinner then head downstairs. Sam is in an animated conversation with Casey right now. Regina asks, "Is it okay if I hang out with you tonight? I don't really have many friends at this school yet." You answer, "Of course you can. It seems Sam is going to be attached to Casey the next few days anyway." Regina asks, "Yeah, what's the deal with that? They seem really close, but she's your best friend, right? Why is she ditching you?" You whisper in her ear, "Don't tell, but she's her crush." Regina gasps and says, "No way, that's cute." I laugh.

You walk next to Regina on the guided walk. You both point out cool sights on the walk to each other and it's fun. Regina is nice to be around.

When we're sitting for dinner, you're at a table with your roommates for the weekend. Regina exclaims, "Some girl keeps shooting daggers at me from that table over there." You ask, "Where?" She points and you see this mean girl. Sam says, "Oh yeah, we hate her. She's always rude to us and she broke my heart." Regina replies, "Ew, I hate her now too." Sam laughs and says, "You know you're not like people said, Regina." Regina asks, "Is that a good thing?" Sam answers, "It is." Regina smiles.

During dinner, someone taps your shoulder and the mean girl is standing there staring at you. She says, "Hey so a couple of my friends and I are going to sneak out later to explore. We were wondering if you, Sam, and Casey wanted to join." You ask, "What about Regina?" She snaps, "What about her? You can't tell me you already care about the new girl that much. She's not invited." You reply, "Then consider me not there, thanks for the offer." She then storms off. Regina turns to you and says, "If you want to go with her, I don't mind staying in the room. Really I do. I could see she's into you." You ask, "What? Are you jealous?" She shrugs and blushes before you say, "Relax, I was kidding. I also do not want to hang out with her more than I have to in class. The bed and the on-demand movies are calling my name tonight." Regina replies, "Don't mind if I join you. That sounds fun." You smile.

After dinner, Casey and Sam stay out with some of your class for game night. You head up with Regina then you take a shower first. You climb into bed and Regina heads to shower. You turn the TV on and find the movie channel. It's some fantasy movie you love.

Regina exits the shower, puts her stuff up, and then seems to hesitate to get back into bed. You joke, "Regina, I don't bite if that's what you're worried about." Regina smiles and says, "No sorry, it's just ... are you comfortable sharing with me?" You ask, "Why wouldn't I be? Are you planning to kill me?" She shakes her head and says, "No, nothing like that. You just don't know me too much and you know I was kicked out of school. I just don't want you to feel weird." You ask, "What, were you kicked out for sharing a bed with someone? I don't understand. I feel fine with you sharing the bed. It's all good." She slides into the bed and says, "I wasn't kicked out for that. I should probably tell you why I was kicked out though." She then goes on to explain why she was kicked out of her last high school. (Plot of Mean Girls) You exclaim, "Well I don't think you're a mean girl, Regina. You've been nice at school. I'm sorry that happened to you at your last school. It really does suck. Now, to cheer you up, you should watch one of the most epic dragon battles ever." She laughs. You like her laugh.

Sam and Casey get back once the first movie finishes. They sit on their bed and you all watch more movies.

Next Day

You hear the alarm and groan. Damn, why do you have to be awake? You rub your eyes and open them to see you are lying very close to Regina who is also just waking up. She sees you, blinks, and says, "Sorry. I guess I rolled over last night." You reply, "It's okay. So did I. How did you sleep?" She answers, "Really good. I want to go back to sleep." You reply, "So do I. It's so cozy."

The day passes with nothing crazy happening until the night. You're going to see a Shakespearean play tonight. You get all dressed up in the room with the girls and each one compliments you. Regina's compliment makes your heart flutter a little.

At the play, you walk in and take your seat. You then realize who is to your right. It's the mean girl. Regina is to your left and she seems to notice as well. You just hope tonight goes smoothly. The mean girl says, "Y/N, fancy seeing you here." You reply, "Yeah. It's almost like we're on a field trip." She laughs too loudly and says "Yeah, you're so right. HAHA! You clean up well." You sigh and reply, "Thanks. So do you." She asks, "Really?" You answer, "I'm just being nice to an acquaintance."

The lights dim and she tries talking to you. You quickly interrupt, "The play's starting. Please hold what you're going to say. I want to watch." You notice Regina's fist next to yours and you fist bump it lightly.

At intermission, the mean girl leaves with her friends for a bit. Regina leans over and says, "God, I hate her." You reply, "She just refuses to take no for an answer." She replies, "She's really into you. She's down bad." You reply, "I wish she wasn't." She replies, "I know a way that'll work. Just hold my hand." You reply, "I'm willing to try it." She holds her hand and you link yours with hers. Sure enough, when the mean girl returns and sees your intertwined hands, she switches seats with one of her friends. At the end of the play, you take your hand out of Regina's to clap for the performers. You liked holding her hand during the play.

The next few days pass the same way. You and Regina are cuddling in bed in the mornings, you both flirt a little, and you explore with your class. The mean girl even leaves you alone for the rest of the trip.

Upon arriving back at school at the end of the trip, Regina calls your name and you turn to see her running over. You exclaim, "Hey Regina, what's up?" She asks, "Could we talk for a minute?" You nod and you walk over to sit on a bench. Regina says, "Look, this trip was really great for me and I really liked spending time with you. I don't know what it meant to you, but it meant a lot to me. When we held hands," she pauses and takes a deep breath, "it felt like fireworks went off inside of me. I really like you, Y/N. I was wondering if you feel the same way about me?" Oh wow ... You reply, "I really like you too. I liked holding your hand too." She smiles widely and says, "Cool great, I'm glad. I don't want to have our first kiss in front of our school if that's okay. It just doesn't sit right with me." You laugh and reply, "Okay, that's fair. You should give me your number so we can talk about when we can make that kiss happen though." She replies, "That was smooth." You exchange numbers, hug, and then part ways happily smiling at each other across the parking lot.

[dezznuggz]

The Parents of the Friend group. |Part 1

Steve Harrington × reader

~the party already knows about yours and Steve's relationship and even before you and Steve got together, they made it pretty clear that Steve is the mom and you're the dad. Plain and simple

Warning: playfully bullying Steve, mentions of season 2, mentions of the upside down, reader pronouns she/her, y/n used a couple times

--------------------------------∆----------------------------

With everything that the party member went through at a young age, you and Steve always cared and protected them with any chance y'all get. With that being said, Steve made it a monthly thing to have the kids (including Robin and Eddie) sleepover for at least a night just so they can enjoy themselves young and to also ease Steve's paranoia of not knowing when another type of monster will appear out of the blue. You didn't have a problem with the idea of course mostly since you loved the kids as if they were your own kids but it gets tiring after a while, mostly when it's in your own home.

Tossing and turning in bed while hearing loud chatters in the distance. Moving around to grab a hold of Steve and hopefully cuddle back to sleep but you feel the other side of the bed empty.

Is it the 24th already?

Groggily getting out of bed still half asleep and walking to the bathroom to freshen up and get ready for one hell of a day. After wearing something more appropriate and becoming wide awake, you mentally prepare yourself to walk out into the chaos. When you open the door, everything suddenly becomes clearer and louder. You see Erica and Dustin arguing about what channel to put on. Max and Robin are practically attacking Lucas for his poor taste in comics. Eddie, Mike, and Will try explaining d&d to El (who clearly is not interested). Then you see the main person that you wanted to spend your morning with, but they were clearly occupied and busy. Already heading to the kitchen to your lover to say good morning while giving a peck on the lips.

"Every month...every month, I don't even know why I'm surprised anymore" you say while looking at the hoard of people in the living room talking over each other. "I swear they're little geniuses but when it comes to being on time, they're rather late or too early and today is one of those days." Steve says while mixing a bowl of pancakes batter. "Remember you wanted this, so you can't fully blame them." You say while warming up a cup of coffee, "oh no no no, you can't partially blame me for this, don't act as if you didnt want them around either" Steve says while looking from the pancake batter then to you with a small smile. Okay maybe you also found comfort in having the kids around including Robin and Eddie, it feels more home warming but it's the mess they leave after. "Well...I'm not sure what I can say to that other than calling dibs to drop off the kids" you say frantically before leaving the kitchen and into the living room while hearing Steve trying to call you back in the kitchen.

Once you step in the living room, you weren't sure if you wanted to go back and continue the conversation that you just had with Steve or try to at least have the kids calm down and lower their voices. "Jesus I don't know how you deal with this nerd, all he does is shove facts down your throat!" Erica practically yells at you before walking away from Dustin who is hot on her tail. "Oh IM THE NERD, you practically have the whole pony lore merged in your girly little brain" Dustin yells back at Erica while also passing by you and saying a quiet good morning (which you say good morning back).

"okay well let's leave that to Steve.." you say under your breath before walking to the little closet room in yours and Steve's house to pull out blankets and more pillows already preparing for tonight and maybe for a game that will last till night out. "Hey!" Will said pretty loudly in your ear which had you flinching a little, "Oh my God, what happened, I thought you were with Eddie and Mike? Did you forget your toothbrush again? Or was it your underwear again? You know Steve doesn't really mind besides he barley knows." You ramble and ask multiple questions to Will and whispering the last part knowing that it happened once and he trusted in only telling you. "WHAT no I'm fine, everything's fine, I just wanted to help out a little you know since it's the least we can do" Will says in a soft tone. "Oh no it's okay honey... Well you know what, maybe a little help wouldn't hurt right?" You say hesitantly, knowing how Steve gets when the kids actually help around. He tends to take control but not in a mean way more of a 'just rest my child and I'll take care of you' typa way. "Okay I need you to carry this... And this, and hold this one for me please....oh can't forget Max's..." You say while stacking pillows and blankets in Will's arms which slowly starts piling up to the point that his face is no longer able to be seen.

"is that it?..." Will asks while trying to peep his head out a little just to see if there are any more blankets, "umm....no you know what that's about it, good job buddy" you say before patting Will's shoulder indicating that he should follow you. Both you and Will walk to the living room to find everyone gone then you hear a faint voice counting. "Okay that's 2,4,6,8....8?" Steve says after counting heads to make sure everyone was sat at the table ready to eat although with so much noise and talking going around he can't seem to know if he counted wrong. But just as Steve suspected, he did count wrong as 2 more people walked into the dining room. "Ah there you guys are, okay so that's 10 in total" Steve says with a relief but his cheery tone went away as he saw Will's bottom half since the other half was covered with piles of blankets and pillows. "Babe we talked about this, if you need help call me, now look what you have done to the boy, I can't even see him" Steve says dramatically. You let out a sigh as you take the pillows and blankets from Will and told him to sit down and eat, "it's fine babe he offered and I took it, it's not gonna hurt him. And besides you seemed a little busy so I didn't want to disturb you." You say trying to calm a dramatic Steve down since you always are the one to just take things with a flow while Steve is the one to control the flow.

"I'm not gonna tell you again, if you ever need help just call me over and I'll be there, okay?" Steve says while looking down at you waiting for a response, "sure." You say just to please Steve, "good, now sit down and eat before it gets cold" Steve says with a more cheery tone as he presses a kiss on your lips.

-----------------------------∆-------------------------------

"UNOOO!!" Eddie exclaims very loudly which caused the kids to groan since they know that Eddie's cheating but they just can't prove it. Everyone was currently sitting on the floor around the little coffee table in the middle of the living room. Everyone decided to play uno after a long argument on how we should play it due to Dustin being competitive and wanting a specific way to play like whether or not we can jump in or pair up with someone. Everyone told him that we're just gonna play uno for the fun of it with no arguments and no competition, which never happened. Steve and you ended up teaming up and showing each other y'all's cards, Erica started becoming aggressive towards Lucas who kept +4 her. "Is there a problem between you and me cause last time I checked, we're blood related and BLOOD RELATED PEOPLE DONT BETRAY EACHOTHER!" Erica screams in Lucas's face while Lucas laughs at her overreacting. "Woah okay Erica calm down, here take my +4 and you'll get him next time when we reverse." Steve says to Erica while passing the card across the table to Erica who simply denied it and said that she didn't want his pity. "Let her fuss it out babe, she'll get over it" you say while laughing a little since you were Erica's babysitter at some point of time, so you knew how long Erica's little tantrums would last.

As the game ended with Robin somehow winning and multiple arguments breaking out. We all went out separate ways as it was almost time for dinner. You and Steve both walk into the kitchen just to finally enjoy y'all's personal time (even though y'all live together). With you deciding that you don't wanna cook, and Steve not knowing what to cook, you both agreed to order Chinese food. It was cheap and the most agreeable among the party members. Pizza was always complicated for the party, Lucas liked olives while Robin was allergic, and El liked pineapple on hers which Eddie completely despised to be in sight of pineapple pizza. Everyone had their own pizza preference that was just too much to order all together but Chinese food is what got everyone to enjoy (although you weren't a fan of Chinese food but you'll eat it for the kids).

Steve finished the order for Chinese food that we will soon have to pick up but in the mean time it was just you and Steve. Steve and you. Both embracing and enjoying each other's company even when yall aren't doing anything but it just felt so comfortable and loving. You sat on the counter with your feet dangling and Steve between your thighs while looking up at you and admiring you as if you were an angel. "You ever think about having kids" Steve asks with a foolish grin across his face, "woah, a very unexpected question at the moment" you say giggling but slowly stopped when you saw Steve still waiting for an answer, "I don't know, maybe,...actually yeah but as long as it's your kids" you say also with a foolish grin which made Steve blush "you know I actually want 6 kids, I don't remember telling you that" Steve says looking deep in your eyes, "oh trust me I remember you specifically telling me how many and what their names would be" you exclaim while rolling your eyes playfully since you have indeed heard multiple times and it's not like your complaining, infact you loved the idea of Steve also seeing his future with you and you guys are only 20 years old. "Let's get married" Steve says with a straight face and you let out a laugh but stop and clear your throat when Steve still looks at you with a straight face, "you're serious? Okay umm listen Steve I love you, I really do and I don't even want to imagine a life without you but we're 20 and we both work at a minimum wage job that barley pays for rent." You say rambling a little, "but trust me when I tell you this, I wanna get married with you so bad and specifically only you but just not right now or at least where we're at right now" you try to say with a little bit of a cheery voice so you don't totally break Steve's heart, "I promise" you say while holding out your pinky Infront of Steve's pouty face, "okay but is it okay if we have kids before we get married?" Steve asks before he even locks both of y'all's pinkies together "whatever makes you happy babe" you tell Steve with a toothy grin knowing that it would cheer Steve up, he then locks both of y'all's pinkies together and gives you a very passionate kiss that caused you to let out a little giggle in the middle of it.

"oh dude, I thought Robin said no public pda" Mike exclaims with a face of disgust before walking and purposely bumping into Steve's back to get a cold water bottle from the fridge. "Dude we're trying our best to keep it private", Steve says in a very judging tone, "you know Mike, me and Steve have seen you and El kiss but you don't see us making a big scene, have you tried growing up a little?" You say to Mike cause this isn't the first time that you and Mike have had this conversation about pda. "if it requires me growing up and becoming anything like y'all, I'd rather stay young and immature" Mike says before walking off but not before steve tells him to watch his tone. "I'm pretty sure he just called us old in so many different ways" you say to Steve, "he just doesn't get it cause he doesn't know what REAL love is, all he knows is young love....and I'm not old, trust I'm never gonna look old either" Steve says before fixing his hair with a pouty face which you laugh at cause you know how dramatic Steve gets when it comes to his age and specifically his looks.

"oh stop whining, we all know that you're gonna get grey hairs by soon mostly with all the stress the kids keep giving you" Robin suddenly comes in the kitchen startling you both just a little. "Okay first of all shut up and don't jinx it, and second who was talking to you?" Steve says in a very sassy tone since his hair is "his best feature" so God forbid anything happens to it. You let out a breathy laugh as Robin kept adding more gas into the fire. "Oh what's so funny huh, you do know you're gonna end up with grey hairs too so we'll both look 50 in our 30s" Steve says which causes you to stop laughing and before you can say anything Robin practically speaks for you, "uh no she won't, cause the kids are scared of her so they always act right around her but with you Steve, oh boy do they give you hell. In fact I'm pretty sure they only listen to y/n" Robin says with a small smirk on her lips. "Oh that's so not true!" Steve says raising his voice a little to state that he completely disagrees with Robin, "yea it is, remember at Byers house during fall, when you know the whole incident happened." You say trying to get Steve to recall what exactly happened that night, "yea what about it?" Steve says still not remembering how that night has anything to do with what they were walking about.

--------------------------------∆----------------------------

Fall night 1984:

You and Steve were trusted to take care of the kids. It wasn't anything new to you when it came to having full responsibility of the kids. It practically came as a free side job for you since you protected the kids without any questions asked or needed. For Steve on the other hand, his first time taking care of 5 kids at once and he felt like there was so much responsibility in his hands. He just felt the need to take full control due to the fear of not being able to know what the kids are doing 24/7 at the moment.

With Mike and Lucas arguing about Mike panicking and Dustin having Steve shove a demo-dog in ms.byers fridge it all felt hectic to you but nothing that you couldn't handle. The only calm one that was there was max due to it being her first rodeo and completely confused about the whole situation. Suddenly all the kids start making up a plan on how to help El and everyone else that's heading towards the lab that's filled with deadly creatures. While hearing this plan Steve completely shuts it down. "Yea and then we all die" Steve says making it clear that he totally disapproves of their idea, "well that's one point of view" you say in a sarcastic way, "no y/n that's not one point of view, that's a fact" Steve says with an attitude mostly since you're the other adult that's supposed to help him out but isn't even backing him up. You then raise your hands in surrender and give Steve a mocking face before going back to sweeping up glass with max. Mike then walks off with everyone following right behind him, you and Max decide to forget about the glass pieces since there're definitely way more important things to focus on.

With Mike making a master plan of setting up the underground base on fire and having Dustin,max, and Lucas add onto the idea Steve finally attempts to put his foot down. "We're staying here, ON THE BENCH, and we're waiting for the starting team to do their job, does everybody understand that" Steve says in a demanding tone, "THIS ISN'T A STUPID SPORTS GAME?!" Mike complains to Steve but Steve still stood his ground "I said does everybody understand that, I need a yes.." Steve says pointing his fingers at the kids waiting for a response. "We don't need to listen to you" Mike says still annoyed at Steve, "okay you know what, that's enough...y/n control your kids" steve finally starts talking to you but all you did was respond with crossing your arms and shrugging your shoulders as a sign that there's really not much to say. "Oh seriously you're in on this too!?" Steve exclaims in a flabbergasted tone, "I don't know what to say Steve, it sounds like a really good plan". "Yea a good plan to get us killed". "We're not gonna die okay they know what they're doing!". "Yes imma let a bunch of kids guide me into saving the world, yea sure why not jump off a cliff while I'm at it!",

you and Steve bicker back and forth till you finally give in just to calm Steve down and to get him to shut up, "alright kids you heard him, this plan just might get us killed, steve and only steve thinks its best for us to stay put here" you say in a very rude tone to show that you also dont approved of steves idea, "but-" lucas wanted to say something but went completely quiet when you gave him a look to not talk back "we understand". "fine". "Sure". "Whatever" was the only response you got from the kids as they all got up from the floor but completely halted in their steps when they heard a very loud engine outside...

-----------------------------∆-------------------------------

"okay that doesn't even count, they kids were getting used to me at that time so they just don't understand how scary I can get, they listen to me. I know they do it's just y'all aren't around or y'all don't remember" Steve says still trying to defend himself which causes you and Robin to laugh at Steve's attempt. "You're right that's one of the many times that the kids listened to y/n but if you want I can go on and on and on" Robin says trying to rile Steve up and laughing through her sentence, "okay you know what I think it's time for us to pick up the food" Steve says before walking into the living room filled with many people that just seem to be in their own world, "alright who wants to come with me and get the food?.." steve says loud enough for then to hear but there still was no response given to him, you weren't even sure if they heard him. "HEY! Who wants to go with Steve and pick up the food!?" You say loudly which caused everyone's attention on you and still no response but instead everyone is looking at each other to see who's willing to volunteer and go with Steve, "no one? Okay... Dustin go with Steve" you say short and simple which caused Dustin to let out a dramatic groan, "why do I gotta go, make Mike go or max go" Dustin whines to you, "no complaints now get up and get the food. NOW!?" you reply to Dustin's complaints and say the last part loudly since you didn't see him move until you raised your voice.

You then walked up to Steve giving him a pat on the shoulder and a kiss on the cheek before walking to the bathroom. Everyone goes back to their own world again and Steve still is a little mad at the fact that the kids do only listen to you and never Steve.

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Everyone's back at the dining table and there is not a single moment that's silent. Everything is everywhere. Things being passed around in front of everyone, people calling other people's attention from across the table and loud laughter filling the air. It didn't bother you at all, okay maybe a little but you also don't know how else you would prefer the kids to be.

You suddenly snap out of your little thoughts when max mentions your name. "Y/n literally wears the pants of the relationship" max tells Steve, who is still flabbergasted at the fact that the kids listen to only you, "no she doesn't, I think that me and her both are equal in our relationship, right babe" Steve then turns to you asking for your input and opinion, "max we're equal there's no one that wears the pants okay...but I do have to take the lead sometimes" you say the last part quietly but not quite enough for Steve to not hear. "Okay first of all you don't take the lead ALL the time and I wouldn't even put it as you taking the lead, more like you knowing what's better" Steve says defending himself, "oh so she does take the lead I knew it" Eddie then chimes in the conversation out of nowhere, "no she doesn't are you guys even listening to what I'm saying?!" Steve says in a frantic way since he feels as if he's being attacked.

"Wait you're telling me that throughout all the shit we've been through, y/n has always been the decision maker?!" Eddie says in a shocked tone from connecting dots in his mind, "what no of course I make decisions too, you guys act as if I don't do anything!?" Steve raises his voice slightly which causes max and Eddie to laugh out loudly which also causes everyone else's conversation to cut off and wanting to know what's so funny. "We didn't say you don't do anything, we're just saying that you mostly listen to y/n. It honestly seems as if she wears the pants in the relationship" Eddie says while still laughing, this causes others who have been listening to laugh too. "I think we all made it clear that y/n wears the pants, I mean like look at them" max says while gesturing her hands toward me and Steve which causes us to look at each other up and down.

"It's like Steve is the mom and y/n is the dad can we all make that clear" Robin says and everyone else agrees with a small response. "Wait what?" You say a little confused on how the subject can change fast but not the topic which was y'all two, you and Steve being the target and center of the conversation. "Yea I mean you guys are like an old married couple that love each other, I think that's pretty obvious right?" Lucas says that also has everyone else agreeing with him. "Steve is so strict and paranoid like a mom and y/n is so chill and a floater like a dad." Mike adds to Lucas's statement that causes Erica to butt in, "Steve yells at me for not taking my shoes off when I walk in, y/n doesn't even bat an eye about it" Erica's comment left Steve flabbergasted. This had Steve more aware of how motherly he's been acting through the past years. "So I'm the lame, no fun boring mom while y/n is the cool fun dad?!?" Steve asks as if clarification to make sure that what they're saying to him is correct. "Pretty much". "Yea honestly". "if the show fits". "Yea" was the response Steve gets from the kids, "that's so not true I can be fun. Matter in fact I'm totally fun it's just not with y'all. I'm so fun that you guys wouldn't be able to handle me." Steve rants about how fun he is just to prove that he's not a boring mom but that doesn't seem to get to the kids, "that's exactly what a mom would say" Dustin then says to stop Steve from going on and on about "how fun he is", and this time it left Steve silent, infact it left the whole table silent waiting to see what else Steve has left to say but clearly he had nothing.

The silence caused you to let out a little snort of laughter which caused everyone to look at you. Seeing Steve get terrorized by a bunch of kids was too funny to hold in that Steve himself laughed. With you and Steve laughing this caused everyone else to laugh along. Everyone then went back to their regular conversation as if nothing happened.

You then looked at Steve with a cocky grin, "I'm their favorite parent" you say while smirking at him, "don't start" Steve says while rolling his eyes playfully and chuckling.

-----------------------------∆-------------------------------

With everything that has happened in the last 15 hours, the party members calmly agreed to end the day off with a movie. Robin, max, Erica, and El had the couch while everyone else had the floor. The girls wanted you to be on the couch with them but you wanted to end the day with you being in Steve's arms. "Okay everyone brushed their teeth?" Steve asks before he gets himself comfortable and sitting on the floor next to you, "yes MOM" Will says in a joking way which caused Steve to let out a huff then laugh a little. "Come on guys leave him alone, lord knows how many grey hairs you're going to give him by 30" you say in a teasing tone that caused everyone to laugh. "Oooo you're lucky I love you" Steve says after turning off all the light and putting the movie on and laying next to you.

The movie goes on for a while until everyone is out cold. All the junk they ate today completely drained them out. "You know I don't mind being the mom anymore" Steve says all of a sudden, "really? Why's that?" You say a little curious about the sudden change of opinion, "it lets me know that the kids know that I care for them even if it means I'm not fun." Steve says in a low voice trying not to wake everyone up, "I think they already know that you care for them. They just say that to get a rise out of you", you say letting out a breathy laugh that you covered with your mouth. "At least they aren't scared of me" Steve says trying to make himself feel better, "well at least they think I'm fun" you reply back in an instant to Steve's remark. "At least we're viewed as their parents" Steve says looking into your eyes with a boyish grin. "You know what, you're right, at least they look up to us" you reply back to Steve before leaning in to kiss him which Steve kissed back in an instant.

"WHY IS IT ALWAYS ME?!?!" Mike exclaims in a loud tone since he just caught you and Steve making out AGAIN.

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Pls don't be a silent reader and I hope u enjoyed

[cu7ie]

souya smiles.

⠀⠀⠀  ˊᯅˋ   does he know that my destiny lies with him?

cw; large insertions + extra prep, sexual exhaustion, reader w/vag + no pronouns. lovey dovey shit they like eachother what do u want from me.

The only time Souya can stand to have a smile on his lips is when his hands are on your hips and he's lowering you onto his cock. 

And even then, the expression is gradual, as your pussy opens so nicely for him, squeezing down on his sensitive flesh. His hand feels along your stomach for the bump his dick leaves behind as he makes a few tentative thrusts, making you whine atop him. He's not one for teasing, but you're so easy to fluster,

Easy to get a reaction out of.

"Souya - don't go so slow. You're t e a s i n g me." The word lingers on your lips, your lower lip trembling like you're gonna try to convince him with those crocodile tears that you can handle him going any faster than this. You two don't usually have sex for long - you can talk the talk but you can't walk the walk, (Souya fucks you like a man possessed, like he might lose a part of himself if he can't wring an orgasm out of you,) and more often than not, Souya's raring to go long after you've tapped out.

"You say the same thing every time. And then when I really put my all in it, you start whining, —"

"No I do not!"

Souya's voice goes up in pitch, mocking you.

 " 'It feels like you're tearing me apart, Souya,' " Your cheeks burn with embarrassment as you recall that moment with striking clarity, slapping him sharplu on his chest.

 “Hey, fuck you! I only said that one time!” You’re surprised he even remembered at all.

       ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ꈍᴗꈍ  

You guys saw each other less after he launched his restaurant abroad. You stayed in and out of touch, remained dedicated to your studies while supporting Souya's dream overseas. 

One day, he came back to Japan on a surprise visit.

Riding your bike back home from your job, you nearly crash into him with it. You're so excited to see him that you start flapping your hands and stuttering and have a little trouble looking him in the eye still,

  But you're just like how he remembers you. Perfect and a little awkward and your hands still shake a little just like they did in mid school,

And the look in your eyes is all consuming, adoring, affectionate. His stomach flutters and the corners of his lips twitch, his face resembling a deer caught in headlights as you toss your bike aside and wriggle your smaller arms under his and hug his torso for all you’re worth. His afro has been pulled back into the cutest little ponytail, but you have to admit there’s something about seeing the stark blue mass of curls that makes you want to twirl your hair and drag your feet. He’s still as handsome as you remembered, though. Still frowning so grumpily.

"Souya! It's .. it's been so long." You're small in his arms, the tender embrace lasting for a bit too long because you’re trying to fit all the love you can muster in it, 

And really he’s just tired from the flight, so while you’re verbally fantasizing about all these plans, fun things for you two to get up to while he’s here, he’s remembering how soft your mattress used to be, the smell of you on the pillows…

His mind flashes in and out of the memories of the little things. Your eyes crinkling in the corners when you’re giving him your real deal smiles, how you squeeze his hand in yours just to remember ‘what he feels like’.  Feeling a little bad he’s been gone for so long. But you make his heart feel like it never left. 

You walk him up to your apartment, chatting calmly and holding his pinky in yours and by the time he’s actually in your house, you’re pulling him to your bedroom and 

Help him take his clothes off. Maybe he’s more jetlagged than he thought, because he’s just admiring the peace in your expression as you help him with something he ought to do himself. But you’re so eager to see him in a way that feels wholly unexpected. Then again, it’s you. As long as he can remember, you’ve always been happy to see him. You take off his stuffy button up and toss him a shirt he hasn’t seen in years.

It's a band tee that has a faded graphic of the Deftones on it. Despite it looking well loved, there's lint and some dust he has to shake off of it.

“I.. wore this in back in highschool. ” “M’yeah, you left it here way back. I was.. Holding onto it. For you.” You smile so cutely he doesn’t even care if that's not true. He slips it over his head and falls back onto the pillow, you worm your way into his arms and let him hold you. Feel you for the first time in years.

And he doesn’t like feeling like a pervert, but,

How can you blame him? You look at him so dreamily, on the verge of a good nap, trying to blink the sleep out of your eyes so you can commit this image of him to memory (as if he'd risk disappearing on your again).He can feel you staring at him, feels you crawling further along his chest, and his hand naturally falls to your back, slides down along your spine..

And he can feel himself grow hard as he feels your nipples, solid as diamond, poke at him from under your thin lounge shirt.

“.. souya.” He cracks his eyelids open, just enough to see you pressing up against his chest, your skin softer than his; warm and inviting.

“..can I kiss you?” He doesn’t even stop to think about it; not a word is uttered in that moment, he cups his hands and hoists you up so you’re properly laying atop him. He was dreaming of sheep not even a second ago, but now your perky little butt is rubbing against his hard cock, the kisses you pepper onto his face pulling him in deeper, and deeper,

He just wanted to take a nap. You do a good job at convincing him otherwise.

Newfound energy surges into him as you gyrate your hips just so, his clothed cock sliding along the fat plush of your ass, and he knows you know what you’re doing, eyes feigning innocence as your hands rub down his musculature, the contours of his stomach; you’re filled with so much raw affection that you suddenly become wild in your movement, something he hasn’t seen in a while taking you over. Your breathing is hot and heavy; his as well, and as you part yourself from the final kiss, a  thin strand of saliva connecting your lips with him, you bury your nose into the crook of his neck.

Souya is blazing hot now. You don’t move from that position and he physically can’t handle the way you rile him up, his fingers twitching and his knee jumping and he just has to touch you, hands brazenly gripping the weight of your ass and the curve of your hip; you groan into the flesh on his neck, your hands coming up to wrap around his shoulders with a profound eagerness. You’ve gotten him flustered, and he’s trying to pull your sleep shorts off your butt with this look on his face like he might cry if he can’t get his cookie, his breathing uneven in your ear.

“I missed you so much.” “.. missed you too.” You rescind from his neck and allow the softness of his face to fall into your palms, your heart bumping in your chest loud enough for you to hear. “Mh. I wanna fuck you. So bad,” You grind your hips into his and he groans at you, his skin flushing red as he pokes a finger beneath the elastic of your underwear. 

“Then help me get these shorts off. I really don’t want to tear them, they’re cute on you.” You’re smiling because you know Souya isn’t one for jokes, raising your ass with a shake of your hips, leaning forward into a kiss as you slide your shorts down to your knees, wriggling them down your leg and kicking them off to the side.

“How long has it been since you’ve been in Japan, Souya?” You say as you pull away from the kiss; making Souya cock his head and whine a little. He starts making hickies along your collarbone, answering in between sucks and breaths.

“ A year .. n’ maybe four months.” He rumbles low in his throat as his balls seize up, the anticipation of sex making him moody and a little impatient. He grabs your wrists and flips you over on the bed, earning a cute giggle and gasp as he hooks his hands around the back of your knees, hoisting your hips up into the air with newfound vigor and ease,

Slow-cooking in your scent, inundating himself in your heat, your wet cunt is gushing; a sopping spot on your underwear as he tugs it off with his teeth. “Someone’s really eager.” You try not to let your voice waver, but he sees through your facade; nibbles on your thigh just to hear you moan, trying to correct your mistake by clapping your hand over your mouth softly.

“It’s been so long since I’ve heard you moan for me.” He pushes your thighs apart until he can see your quivering folds and puffy little clit; burying his head into your muff without waiting for a reply. His tongue is hot and quick and knows you so well. It travels up your labia with long unabashed licks, reaching your clit; then he doubles down, suckling on the sensitive bundle of nerves. Your pussy is soaked and it never did take you too long to cum when he goes down on you, your hands gripping the streets for purchase as you groan out his name.

“Sou…ya, Oh fuck - Souya. Souya!” 

His name falls from your lips like a chant as he angles your legs higher to get deeper into your snatch, his grip wrought iron and his desire evident. You’ve covered his nose, lips and chin in your wetness, the bashful yet cheeky grin you fix him with making his heart flutter like nothing else. In an instant he’s possessed by this intensity and fervor, forcing your knees further up and to your chest with one hand and trying to fix his dick out of his sweats with the other; but you frantically wave your hands then, dragging him out his pussy drunk stupor. 

“Y’gotta.. gotta use your fingers first.” You pant, air having left your lungs. You wipe the sweat from your forehead (sweating already, it really has been a while, huh?) feeling a bit sheepish having to explain. “I won’t be able to take it if you don’t stretch me out first, it’s been .. wayyy too long ..” Souya snorts as you spread your folded legs, plunging in a finger without ceremony and feeling a little surprised when he hears you squeak. You seem embarrassed but amused by yourself, looking directly at the place where his finger dips into your warm core and your toes curling at the sound of the squelch.

“..you’re too cute.” Souya doesn’t have the thickest fingers, so one in and out works well for you. He gets to two and he hears you mewl, your tiny pussy still soaked but taking him in with less ease than before. Your walls clamp down around his digits like you plan to trap him there. You’re breathing hard and your fingers frustratedly grasp air and squeeze wind, this profound heat in your body,

Cooking you slowly from the inside, his fingers move faster and you’re whining and moaning, little “Ah, ah, ah’s!” as Souya pumps in with reckless abandon. You’re trying not to cum again, but you really can’t help it, your moans crescendoing, your chest rising and falling in time with each pump; then he adds another finger. Your back arches and you rise off the bed as you squirt around his fingers, (you got some onto his forearm, makes his eyebrows shoot up.) And you look so peaceful on the pillows, tuckered out already apparently. Souya gripes, and your lidded eyes flutter open. He shakes your knees and your legs fall open without resistance, your hands gripped by the wrists and pinned above your head as his other hand works even faster to whip his dick out; his tip drooling and sticky with precum as the head of his cock kisses the lips of your pussy. His shoulders shudder as his breathing becomes heavy, his hard gaze harrowing in on you as he speaks slowly, pressure building as the tip of him pushes in. “I don’t want to break you.” His lower lip trembles, the gentle sincerity in his voice understudied by a certain kind of grit, rough like sandpaper. His eyes narrow at you, the grip around your wrist tightening. “But I think I will.” 

“I’d say I’m sorry,” His hips are moving forward, and the girth of his cock (stretches you out just like how you remembered) making your eyes cross and your lips part in silence. “But I .. really don’t like lying to you.” He pushes in and the stretch stings in a sinfully good way; your pretty little pussy getting split open by thick pipe; Souya’s balls slapping gently against your ass as he eases into you at a regular pace.

“I - I swear, you’re gonna tear me apart with that fuuuh-cking thing.” Your thighs quiver and your voice feels unsure.

"One.. of these days … oooh fuck."

It still feels too fast. You clamp around his dick like you’re the one trying to break him; your arms wriggling as you tug on them, trying to dislodge them from beneath Souya’s hands. He has a look of utter bliss overlaid onto his usually frowny expression. His eyes flutter closed, savoring the feeling of your wet walls slicking up his cock, 

while you’re cursing, blood rushing to your cheeks as your leg shake and your skin is alight,

“Holy - fuck! Fuck! F-fuck you, Souya; jesus fucking christ-”  Souya looks amused by you, his polite smile looking down right dastardly. 

“Don’t look at me like that, asshole!” You whine, but don’t put up a real fight. Your moans escape your body in time with his thrusts and it feels really embarrassing. You feel like you sound like a whore, moaning his name to the sky; forgetting the whole world behind you. You'll be surprised if you go out and the neighbor's aren't looking at you funny. Souya is electric, like a nasty jolt that sends a shock of pleasure and pain so deep into you that it transcends touch and does something to your brain itself. 

You’re drooling on your favorite pillow and squealing and whining and (begging for it begging faster faster, when you know you can’t handle it) overwhelming sensations have taken you over completely. Your heels dig into Souya’s back and he feels encouraged to thrust even harder, lean forward and slobber all over the fat of your chest trying to get one of those beady nipples into his mouth.

Souya’s cock is a bully, pounding your sweet cunt into utter submission when your body can do nothing else but twitch and listen to the sound of sloppy sex, hands grabbing at air as he keeps your arms up and out of the way. He looks overcome too, a haze blanketing over him as he fucks you so good the tip of his dick kisses your cervix and all you can see is stars, 

And then that coiling spring inside your guts releases all its tension as you utterly cream yourself on his dick. But he’s still going. Still fascinated by how tiny you feel compared to him, this dominance he’s exercising over you, a cock drunk little fairy, taking a primal pleasure in how fucked out your face looks. 

(He can even see the little bump on your tummy where his cock is. Rubbing his hand over it makes you whimper, but maybe you’re just feeling a little sensitive,) though you’re still soaking wet, it’s clear you’re on your last leg. You're crying from ecstasy, your cunt unwilling to be stretched so far; you’re much tighter than you were before on account of your exhaustion alone. “Souya-” You attempt a whine before you’re silenced with a kiss. You can feel him smiling against your bottom lip, giving another - harder - thrust- 

Then,

His hips stutter. He feels his balls tighten and it’s only then his hands drop to your hips to pull you as far onto his cock as he can. It’s like you’re boneless in his arms, your skin all tingly and raw and,

He’s fucking his load into you. Your hands clutch onto his shoulders to prevent your skull from slamming against the headboard, feeling him feel you up, up, and up. 

"love you.. really love you.."

There’s so much that it spills onto your sheets. 

You feel so full that you can’t stop babbling, gasping and your thighs are shaking, stilled only when Souya gently pulls your legs apart and slides his cock out of you, leaving you full of cum; yet devastatingly empty.

When Souya sighs, you can feel the stress leave him, the frenzied ogre is no more, and he collapses beside you; just as sweet as he came. He seems a little apologetic, a little bashful as he tucks his arms around your waist and tugs you toward him.

“I really did miss you.” Your head is still floaty, but you’ve your wits about you enough to mutter,

“I noticed.”

[estapa-edwards]

ENEMIES -- R.MCGROARTY

paring: rutger mcgroarty x fem! reader

word count: 2k

requested? no

warnings: use of y/n.

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The moment I first laid eyes on Rutger McGroarty, I knew we were destined to clash. He was arrogant, with a smug grin that seemed permanently etched on his face, and I, well, I wasn’t one to back down from a challenge.

We met during freshman orientation at the University of Michigan. As I was walking to my first class, he nearly knocked me over with his oversized hockey bag.

"Watch where you're going!" I snapped, glaring at him.

He smirked, looking me up and down. "Maybe you should watch where you're walking."

From that day on, our interactions were a constant battle of wits and snarky comments. Whether it was in the cafeteria, the library, or even in the hallway between classes, we couldn’t seem to be in the same vicinity without exchanging harsh words. 

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Library encounter -

I was deep in thought, trying to concentrate on my studies when I heard someone loudly discussing last night's hockey game. Annoyed, I turned to find Rutger sitting at a nearby table, clearly trying to distract me.

"Could you keep it down? Some of us are actually trying to study," I said, shooting him a glare.

He looked up, feigning innocence. "Oh, sorry. I was just celebrating our latest victory. Maybe if you came to a game once in a while, you'd understand."

Rolling my eyes, I replied, "I'd rather not waste my time watching a bunch of guys chase a puck around."

He smirked, leaning back in his chair. "You don't know what you're missing."

Cafeteria Encounter -

I was waiting in line to grab a coffee when Rutger stepped in front of me, cutting in line.

"Excuse me, I was here first," I said, tapping him on the shoulder.

He turned around, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Well, maybe if you were faster, you wouldn't have this problem."

I crossed my arms, trying to hide the smile tugging at my lips. "You're unbelievable."

He winked, grinning cheekily. "I know."

Post-Game Banter -

After a particularly intense game, I found myself walking past Rutger, who was surrounded by his teammates, celebrating their win.

"Nice game," I said, trying to sound indifferent.

He looked over, smirking. "Thanks. I guess you enjoyed watching us win, didn't you?"

I rolled my eyes, trying to keep the playful tone out of my voice. "Don't flatter yourself. I was just there for the free snacks."

He chuckled, stepping closer. "Sure, whatever you say."

The Encounter That Changed It All -

We found ourselves in the library again, our usual battleground for our heated debates and arguments.

"If my team wins the championship this year," Rutger started, a confident smirk playing on his lips, "you have to come to every home game next season and wear our team jersey."

I raised an eyebrow, challenging him. "And if they lose?"

His grin widened, the mischievous glint in his eyes unmistakable. "Then you never have to speak to me again."

I hesitated for a moment, contemplating the stakes. But the competitive side of me couldn't resist the challenge. "Fine, you're on."

Rutger extended his hand towards me, sealing the deal. "Deal. Prepare to become a hockey fan, Y/N." 

As the season progressed, the bet became the center of our playful banter. Rutger would often tease me about how much I was going to enjoy the games, while I would brush off his comments with sarcastic remarks.

"Can't wait to see you in that jersey," he would say with a wink.

"Don't get too excited," I would reply, trying to hide the smile tugging at my lips. "I'm only doing this because I'm confident your team will lose."

But deep down, I was starting to enjoy our banter and secretly looked forward to attending the games, even if it was just to prove Rutger wrong.

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The championship game was the climax of our bet. The tension was palpable as both teams fought fiercely for the win. In the final moments, with the score tied, Rutger managed to score the winning goal, securing the championship for his team.

I watched in disbelief as Rutger celebrated with his teammates, realizing that I had lost the bet. I would have to honor our agreement and attend every home game the following season, wearing the team jersey. 

The stadium was buzzing with excitement after the intense championship game. Rutger, sweaty and exhilarated from the win, found me waiting near the exit.

"So, what did you think?" he asked, a smug grin on his face as he approached me.

I crossed my arms, trying to maintain a composed expression. "It was a good game, I'll give you that."

He chuckled, clearly enjoying my reluctant admission. "Just good? Come on, it was amazing! Admit it, you enjoyed watching us win."

I sighed, unable to hide the smile tugging at my lips. "Fine, it was more than just good. You played really well."

Rutger's grin widened, and he leaned in closer, the playful tension between us palpable. "I knew you'd come around eventually. So, are you looking forward to wearing our team jersey at every home game next season?"

I rolled my eyes, trying to maintain my defiant stance. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves. I still have a whole season of hockey to endure."

He chuckled, placing a gentle hand on my shoulder. "Trust me, you're going to love it. And who knows, maybe you'll become a hockey fan after all."

I smirked, shaking my head in disbelief at how much our relationship had evolved since our first encounter. "We'll see about that, McGroarty."

Rutger winked, leaning in to whisper in my ear. "I'm looking forward to our next bet."

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It was a chilly evening, and the university campus was buzzing with excitement for the upcoming hockey season. Rutger had invited me to a pre-season team event, and despite my initial reluctance, I decided to go.

The atmosphere was lively, with music playing and teammates mingling with friends and family. Rutger greeted me with a warm smile as I arrived.

"Thanks for coming," he said, handing me a drink. "I promise, you'll have a great time tonight."

I looked around, feeling slightly out of place among the hockey players and their friends. "I'll believe it when I see it."

Rutger chuckled, taking my hand and leading me towards the dance floor. "Come on, let's have some fun."

As we danced, I couldn't help but notice how different Rutger was outside of our usual bickering. He was kind, attentive, and surprisingly charming. The tension between us was undeniable, and I found myself drawn to him more than I cared to admit.

After a few songs, Rutger pulled me aside, his eyes searching mine. "Y/N, I have a proposition for you."

I raised an eyebrow, curious about what he was about to say. "What kind of proposition?"

He took a deep breath, his expression serious yet playful. "How about another bet?"

I laughed, intrigued by his proposal. "Another bet? What are the stakes this time?"

Rutger grinned, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "If my team wins the season opener, you have to go on a date with me. And if they lose, I'll leave you alone for good."

I considered his offer, the competitive side of me tempted by the challenge, but still reluctant to admit my growing feelings for him. "I don't know, Rutger. What's in it for you?"

He chuckled, leaning in to press his lips against mine in a soft, lingering kiss. It was a kiss filled with all the pent-up emotions and tension that had been building between us.

Pulling away slightly, Rutger looked into my eyes, searching for a response. "So, do we have a deal?"

I sighed, feeling a warmth spread through me at his words, despite my reservations. "Alright, Rutger, we have a deal. But don't get too confident."

He grinned, his eyes shining with excitement. "I look forward to winning this bet."

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The day of the season opener had arrived, and the excitement on campus was palpable. Rutger had been training hard, and the team was in high spirits. Despite my initial reluctance, I found myself drawn into the anticipation of the game.

The stadium was packed with enthusiastic fans, and the atmosphere was electric as the game began. I watched nervously from the stands, cheering for Rutger and his team, even though I was still trying to maintain my competitive edge.

The game was intense, with both teams giving it their all. As the final minutes ticked away, the score remained close, and the tension in the stadium was palpable.

Then, in the last moments of the game, Rutger managed to break away from the defense and score the winning goal. The crowd erupted in cheers, and the team celebrated on the ice.

I watched in disbelief as Rutger skated towards the sidelines, his eyes searching for me. He winked and blew me a kiss, his grin wide and triumphant.

After the game, I waited for Rutger outside the locker room, still processing the outcome of the bet. When he emerged, sweaty and exhilarated from the win, he greeted me with a triumphant smile.

"So, about that bet," he said, wrapping an arm around my waist and pulling me close.

I sighed, trying to maintain my composure, but the smile on my face betrayed me. "Yes, you won fair and square. I'll honor our deal."

Rutger grinned, leaning in to press his lips against mine in a passionate kiss. It was a kiss filled with victory and the realization of our growing feelings for each other.

Pulling away slightly, Rutger looked into my eyes, his expression soft and sincere. "I'm looking forward to our date, Y/N."

I smiled, feeling a warmth spread through me at his words. "Me too, Rutger. Me too."

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A few days after the season opener, Rutger and I were both still basking in the excitement of the win and the outcome of our bet. The tension between us had shifted from competitive to flirtatious, and I found myself looking forward to our upcoming date.

Rutger had planned a special evening for our date, and he was determined to make it memorable. He picked me up from my dorm, looking dashing in a crisp shirt and jacket.

"You look amazing," he complimented as I stepped into his car.

"Thank you," I replied, blushing slightly at his words.

Our first stop was a cozy little Italian restaurant in town. The ambiance was perfect, with soft lighting and romantic music playing in the background. We enjoyed a delicious meal and shared stories and laughter, getting to know each other better outside of our usual banter.

After dinner, Rutger surprised me with tickets to a local art exhibit. He knew I loved art, and he had taken the time to plan a thoughtful and meaningful date.

As we walked through the exhibit, Rutger took my hand, leading me from one artwork to another. We shared whispered conversations about our favorite pieces, and I could feel the connection between us growing stronger with each passing moment.

Finally, as we stood in front of a beautiful painting depicting a serene landscape, Rutger turned to me, his eyes filled with sincerity.

"Y/N, tonight has been amazing," he began, taking a deep breath. "I've come to realize that I want more than just a bet or a casual fling. I want us to be together, officially."

I looked into his eyes, seeing the genuine emotion and vulnerability in his gaze. "Rutger..."

He gently cupped my face, leaning in to press his lips against mine in a tender and heartfelt kiss. It was a kiss filled with love, commitment, and the promise of a future together.

Pulling away slightly, Rutger looked into my eyes, his expression soft and sincere. "Y/N, will you be my girlfriend?"

I smiled, feeling a warmth spread through me at his words. "Yes, Rutger, I will."

Rutger grinned, pulling me close and wrapping me in a tight embrace. "I'm the luckiest guy in the world.

[doudouneverte]

hii, how are u?

i've been obsessed w feli but sadly there aren't many fics w her.

could you write some angst+fluff for her? reader is sad that she can't introduce felicitas to her parents, because theyre not in the picture anymore (you can choose why) and feli comforts reader, but r feels like a burden?

a/n: oh, I love this one. Sorry for the wait but school is messing with my writing time...

"It's okay, I'm here"

*not my GIF*

Pairing: Felicitas Rauch x FRAWNT!reader

Summary: based on the request above

Type: Angst + Fluff

Warning: bad parents, homophobia (homophobic parents)

word count: 3398

--------

Back to the changing at the end of training, joy and excitement for the next game were clearly drowning the room. It will be the final of the DFB-Pokal against Freiburg. While the girls were planning things for the next day, you were discussing something with Svenja until music started to play in the room and you felt someone dragging you by the arm. You looked at them to find your girlfriend, Felicitas Rauch, visibly very excited to dance. You were exhausted and just wanted to get dressed and go back home, but her smile made you give up.

After a little dance and finally getting changed, you waited for your girlfriend in the parking lot, where you resumed your conversation with your captain.

"So, how was your little trip with Feli last week?" The German player asked.

"It was pretty cool. We didn't do anything special, but you know, with her, everything is special."

"Aww, look at you. You're too cute when you talk about her like that."

"I mean it. I don't really need to do something; I'm just grateful she's here, and I thought about..." You interrupted yourself when you felt your phone vibrating in your pocket. Before you could speak again, your girlfriend wrapped you in a tight hug and left some kisses on your neck, making you giggle.

"Okay, I think I'll let you enjoy your time together. We will see each other tomorrow." Svenja told you. You just nodded before she left, and you entered your car with the defender.

Back in your shared house, you exaggerated a groan before you left your shoes and your training bag at the entrance before collapsing on the couch. Feli laughed at your attitude before she joined you with Cinnamon in her arms.

"Oh, come on, training was rather light today." She said letting the dog sit on your lap before snuggling against your tired body.

"I know, but I didn't sleep enough yesterday, so I'm very tired." You explained.

"Don't worry, tomorrow is a day off. I know the girls proposed to have lunch, but if you're very tired, we can stay at home."

"I would love that, but you forgot something." You said making her a little confused. "Tonight, Julie, come, and we also need to prepare something for tomorrow." You remembered her.

Julie was your little sister, and the next day would be her birthday—well, not exactly. She already had her birthday the day prior, but since you started to play in Germany, she always comes to celebrate with you a few days later.

Feli knew about that. At least about the version you always told her—that being busy meant that your sister always had to come to Germany to spend time with you. It was actually true, but not the full version.

"Oh, yeah, I almost forgot. Do you need my help for anything?" Your girlfriend asked.

"Um, I think I just have to buy eggs and flour to make a cake for tomorrow, but don't worry I-"

"I'll do it!" The defender cut you. "Let it to me. You know how much I love your sister. Don't worry, you can go pick up her, and I'll buy everything we need for tomorrow." She assured you.

"Are you sure about that? I mean, I know you can deal with everything, but I don't want to force you to do anything. We just came back from training; you're tired."

"And so you are. Don't worry; I promise you it's okay. I love to pamper her." She stole you a kiss before standing. "Okay now, come on, we need to take a shower before we go."

"I don't know if I ever told you, but I'm really lucky to have you." You said before following.

"I know, you say it every day." She commented.

"And you don't know how much it means to me." You whispered before kissing her. The defender didn't hear you, but she still reciprocated the affection.

An hour and a half later, you were finally ready to leave, and it took you only thirty minutes to reach your destination. Like expected, your sister was waiting for you, and she immediately caught you in a hug when she saw you.

"Je commençais à croire que tu m'avais oublié. (I started to think that you forgot me.)" She said after you pulled away.

"Arrête de faire ta drama queen, je viens a peine de finir mon entrainement. (Stop doing your drama queen; I just finished my training.)" You replied. "Now let's go. I have a girlfriend that I want to see." You added while you started to put her luggage on the backseat.

"Oh, come on, you see her every day." She said before taking place on the passenger side, you rolled your eyes and decided not to talk back.

The ride back was filled with laughter and pure enjoyment at being reunited. Back at home, Feli was already here, and of course the two women instantly fell in each other's arms.

"Wow, okay, I already got replaced." You said irronicaly.

"Oh, come on, don't act like that; you are always with her." Your sister said.

"Okay, I don't want any arguments today; I'm really tired, and I think we all need to have a good night. So, now girls, let's eat and sleep." Feli said ending any potential sibling argument.

"Yes, ma'am." you both said before heading to the kitchen.

-----

The next day, you were awakened by a very excited defender, and because she had to be quiet, you found it very cute. When she realized that you were fully awake, she didn't waste more time before leading you into the living room to show you what she started to do.

"Wow, why are you so excited?" you asked her after almost tripping on your own foot.

"Look at this." The defender showed you all the decorations she made a little earlier. "I just need your help with something. But before that, what do you think about this?" she asked you.

"That's... incredible," you finished. "I didn't know you had so much talent to decorate this place," you added, really surprised.

"Thans. I didn't want to awaken you because I know that you were very tired yesterday."

"Oh, come on, babe, you know you're maybe the only person who is allowed to wake me up whenever you want." You said while you rolled your arms around her hips. "I meant it when I said that I'm lucky to have you in my life."

"Okay, now stop being cheesy and kiss me before the baby wakes up and starts to complain because we show 'too much love'." She mimicked your sister's voice.

Just after attaching your lips to Feli's, you heard someone making some disgusted noises behind you.

"I can't leave you two alone for five minutes," your sister said, making you roll your eyes. "And by the way, I'm not a baby anymore," she added.

"You need to stop eardropping, you little dipshit." You said earning a firm slap from your girlfriend.

"Okay, let's not talk about that." Feli said, escaping from your arms to hug your sister. "Happy birthday, Prinzessin (princess)."

"Oh, and now she's been called Princess; you never called me like that before." You said while you filled a cup of water.

"Stop pouting, mommy; it doesn't suit you." Your sister said making you choke on the water, and Feli blushed more quickly than ever seen.

"Julie!" you both yelled.

"What? It's your own fault to not be quiet while you....you have your affairs," she replied with a disgusted look.

"Please, someone kill me right now." Feli said this dramatically before going back to your shared bedroom.

You were about to say something when your sister's phone rang. She looked at it, then looked at you with a curious expression. You didn't have to ask before she showed you who was calling; it was your mom.

You picked up for her and quickly pressed the phone on her before leaving the room. On your way to go somewhere far away from your sister's phone, you collided with the defender.

"Hey, where are you going? We haven't given her her present yet." You didn't reply and just dragged her back from where she came out.

"I just want to cuddle with you while she's on the phone."

Feli was aware that something was strange after your request. Of course, it was not unusual for the defender that you asked something like that, but when Julie came to visit, you were always stuck with each other. Sometimes the defender felt like the third wheel, but she knew that because you couldn't see her as much as you wanted, it was logical that you wanted to spend all your time with her.

"Is everything okay?" The defender asked carefully while you were lying on top of her with your head hidden in the crook of her neck.

"Yes," you replied quickly, but without moving.

"Are you sure? Because usually you would be annoying Julie knowing that she can't do anything while she's on the phone." She said with a little smile on her face, reminding herself every time you did that and your sister chasing you around the hole house after.

"Yeah, don't worry, I just want to spend some alone time with you."

"Okay." She replied and started to play with your hair. A few seconds later, she heard someone knock on the door. "Come in." 

Julie opened the door and immediately felt bad for you when she saw you curled against your girlfriend's body. "Uh, Y/n?" She called you, a little unsure of how she should announce it. When she heard you hum, she took a rather long moment before dropping the bomb. "Mom called. She asked if I was planning to come home soon and told her that I would stay until your next game." She took a pause, letting your girlfriend be confused for a moment. "Her and dad will come to see you play tomorrow."

"That's super!" Your girlfriend sheered, but when she was not met with the same excitement from both of you, she reconsidered it.

"Svenja wants to see me," you said before leaving the bed and heading to the bathroom. "I think it would be cool if you came too; I promised her to let her know when you come to visit," you said to your sister before closing the door.

Feli stayed there, trying to process whatever was happening. She didn't have to wait too long before you came back and started to get dressed.

"Listen, I don't know what's happening right now, but you do really need to leave right now?" the defender asked.

"Don't worry, we will be really quick." You tried to reassure her with a light peck on her lips, but she could feel that you were not totally honest with that. Even if she wanted to stop you or invited herself, she knew (almost) more than anyone to not overstep things with you.

~~~~~

"Well, when you say that something bad happened, I didn't know it was that bad." Svenja said while you were trying to be eaten alive by her couch.

"At least they didn't show up unnacounced." Julie said.

"Why do they have to come when we play a final? They had all the season to come and be as disrespectful as they wanted; why did they choose one of the most important games?" You asked no one.

"I think you should tell her." Your captain proposed.

"I can't..." You started to feel some tears filling your eyes.

"Y/n, I agreed to keep it for myself because we were sure that they would never come here to see you, but now things are different."

You sighed and tried to restrain some tears.

"Don't worry, we will be there if you need anything." Svenja reminded you.

~~~~~

An hour later, you were back at home. Feli noticed the change in mood but didn't say anything, at least not to you. She waited until you went to your bedroom to take your sister apart.

"Julie, what happened?" The defender asked.

"I don't think I'm the right person to talk to you about. I think you should see it directly with her." Your sister replied. "And honestly, I think she may need your help." She added.

In the bedroom, you were curled up on the bed while trying to stop spiraling–which was almost impossible–when you heard the door getting opened. You didn't have to look to know that it was your girlfriend who was visibly worried about your state.

"Hey liebe(love), what's going on?" She asked after she sat next to you.

"I don't want to play tomorrow." You said making her more worried than before.

"Why?"

"Because that means I would have to see them, which I don't want."

"Who? Your parents?" You didn't reply and just nodded. She laid down next to you and cuddled you as much as possible. "Listen, I don't know what happened with them, but can you explain me why you feel like that? You are usually the one who always complains that they never come to see you play, and now you're not happy with that."

"Trust me, you don't want to know." 

"Of course, I want Y/n. They're the ones who raised you, and... they're your parents."

"They were." You stated making the defender's heart shatter at your expression. "They stopped being my parents at the moment they stopped seeing me like their daughter." 

"What happened?" She asked after a little silence.

"Nothing," you replied. Your body was slightly shaking, and you were crying again. "nothing happened. They just hate me because I... because I..." You couldn't find the strength to finish your sentence while you were remembering your sudden departure from the place you once called home.

Feli tried to calm you, but nothing seemed to work.

"They hate me because I love you." You said, and now the defender started to put some pieces together.

"They don't like who you are?" She asked, and you shook your head. She finally dragged you into a bone-crushing hug while you continued to cry on her shoulder.

"It's okay, babe; I'm here. I'll not leave you." She said trying to shush you.

"I don't want to see them, please." You pleaded to no one because you knew that whatever happened, you would have to face them.

Your girlfriend pulled away from the hug and cleared some tears from your face. "Hey, hear me out, mein liebe(my love). Even if these people don't like you, we will always be there for you. Me, Julie, and the team. And even Cinnamon and my parents too." She kissed one cheek and the other before she spoke again. "If they don't love you because of who you are, that's their problem. For me, you are the most beautiful and incredible woman who ever walked on this planet; you are perfect, and nothing could change that. I will not let some horrible people think that they can change that. I love you, and I don't care if I have to fight your parents or the entire planet to have you by my side, because I would definitely do it."

Your sobs were more calm after her confession. That was the first time someone said something like that to you. "Do you mean it?" You asked.

"Of course. And look, my parents already love you, so you don't have to care about what your parents think about us. And I was thinking that if one day I have to ask for someone's blessing to marry you, it will definitely be your sister..."

She continued to ramble for a moment until you kissed her, and she realized what she said.

"I mean only if you want, of course." She said making you laugh quietly.

"Let me some time to think about it, but I would be happy with that." 

You stayed in your girlfriend's arms for a moment until you heard someone knock on the door. When Julie opened it, she could tell that you cried a lot, but from your expression and Feli's tight grip, she could also guess that you finally decided to tell her about your past.

"Excuse me, I don't want to ruin anything, but I think we have a birthday to celebrate, and we still don't do anything today." Your sister reminded you.

~~~~~

The final whistle announced the end of the match, and with that, your victory. You were celebrating with your teammates when you spotted your sister and your parents among the VfL fans. You shoot a sincere smile at your sister but decide to ignore the other adults to not ruin the mood of the team.

After a little celebration in the locker room, it was time to leave. You were in the bus waiting for Feli to come, but the defender didn't show up since you left her a few minutes earlier.

"Hey, Poppi, do you know where Feli is?" You asked your captain, a little confused, not to see your girlfriend anywhere.

"She said she had someone to see, but she should be back really quickly." The striker replied, and despite your pout, there was nothing you could do except text her.

In the parking lot, your sister was talking with your parents when they heard someone coming in their direction.

"Feli?" Your sister asked very confusedly.

"Hi Prinzessin, I hope you enjoyed the game." The defender said while she hugged the younger woman. After she pulled away, she looked at your parents and held her hand, which they shook much to her surprise. "Hi, I'm Felicitas Rauch. I think you saw me play earlier."

"Yeah. We don't usually watch football; we came because our little girl wanted to see this match, but I need to say that I'm very impressed by your performance." Your mom said with a rather bright smile, and that's almost made your girlfriend feel sad to know that the smile that she loves the most came from someone who hates you the most.

"Yes, I have to say that I agree with my wife on that; your team was very good." Your father added, and the defender offered them a fake smile. Julie watched the interaction, totally flabbergasted by everything.

"Thank you. I really appreciate that, but I came to talk to you about something else." The German said, earning a confused look from the couple. "I'm Y/n's girlfriend." At those words, your parents faces changed suddenly. The bright and welcoming smile was quickly replaced by a heinous and disgusted expression. "See, I'm not here to ask for your blessings or anything like that. No, I came to tell you to never show in front of her again. You already destroyed her too much in the past, and it took me a very long time to put the pieces together. I don't know why you showed up today, but judging by your expression and your lack of good feelings for her, I don't think you're here to make things up. I just want you to leave and never come back. You ignored her for the most part of her career. I think it will not be very difficult to do the same a little longer."

"I knew it." Julie mumbled to herself after your girlfriend finished her speech.

"I don't say goodbye; just go straight to hell and leave her alone." The defender said before going back to the team bus.

Almost five minutes later, you were talking with Dom and Lena when you saw your girlfriend finally walking to the bus with an angry expression. However, this feeling totally got washed away when she saw you tap the seat next to you to indicate that you had saved her a seat. She crashed next to you and intertwined your fingers before resting her head on your shoulder.

"Where were you?" You asked quietly.

"Saying goodbye to someone." She said with a proud smile. When you nodded and were about to resume your previous chat, she grabbed your face with her free hand, making you look at her. "I'm really lucky to have you in my life, mein liebe." She said making you blush.

"I'm very lucky too." You replied. "I love you."

"I love you too."

[todorokis-girl]

This idea is more of a fluff comfort? I was thinking about Dabi with a gf Who keeps ignoring notifications about an anniversary of a loved one (like a friend or family member) (kinda like that episode off of the show “Owl house” where Luz was trying to avoid the anniversary of her father‘s passing which I know we all go through that kind of stuff, sometimes)

Ok so, this one took me a while to process. I lost my brother a couple years ago, and I can definitely relate to the feeling of just wanting normal time. Last year, was particularly rough, and the only thing that helped me get through it was my boyfriend deciding that it was a normal day and taking us to the beach on a date.

I hope this is to your liking, and thanks for the request!

masterlist

No feelings of Loss

The summer sun hung low in the sky, casting a warm, golden light over the small apartment. Dabi, with his usual aloof demeanor, lounged on the worn-out couch, flicking through channels on the television. His girlfriend, Y/N, stood in the kitchen, mechanically stirring a pot of soup. Her mind was elsewhere, far from the mundane task at hand.

For the past few days, Y/N had been quieter than usual. Dabi noticed the way her eyes seemed to avoid his, the way her fingers fidgeted with her phone, constantly dismissing notifications. He didn't pry; Dabi wasn't the type to push for conversations that weren't offered. But he cared deeply for her, and the tension gnawed at him.

Finally, unable to bear the silence any longer, Dabi turned off the TV and walked over to the kitchen. He leaned against the counter, watching Y/N's distracted movements. "What's going on, Y/N?" he asked softly.

Y/N froze, her grip tightening on the spoon. She took a deep breath and slowly turned to face him. "It's… nothing," she said, but her voice wavered, betraying her.

Dabi reached out, gently taking her hand in his. "You can tell me," he said, his voice low and earnest. "I'm here for you, whatever it is."

Y/N looked down at their intertwined hands, tears pooling in her eyes. "It's the anniversary of my brother's death," she whispered. "I keep getting notifications about it, reminders from family, friends… but I just can't deal with it. Not this year."

Understanding washed over Dabi, and he pulled her into a tight embrace. "It's okay to feel that way," he murmured into her hair. "You don't have to face it alone. I'm here with you."

Y/N buried her face in his chest, the tears flowing freely now. "I just… I miss him so much. And it hurts to think about it."

Dabi held her tighter, his own heart aching for her pain. "I know," he said softly. "Grief doesn't have a timeline. It's okay to feel whatever you're feeling."

Y/N pulled back slightly, her eyes red and puffy. "I had a fight with my dad this morning," she confessed, her voice raw with emotion. "He wanted us to spend the day together, to remember my brother. But I just can't. I can't go through that again. I told him I wanted to spend it with you, like it was a normal day. He didn't understand."

Dabi nodded, his expression thoughtful. "It makes sense," he said gently. "Sometimes, the best way to cope is to find a sense of normalcy, to not let the grief consume you."

Y/N sniffled, wiping her eyes. "I just feel so guilty," she admitted. "Like I'm running away from it; mom insists I'm being selfish not just to them but to everyone, but who cares about what I want?"

"You're not running away," Dabi reassured her. "You're dealing with it in your own way. There's no right or wrong way to grieve. If being with me today helps you, then that's what you should do."

Y/N looked up at him, gratitude and love shining in her eyes. "Thank you," she said, her voice still shaky but stronger. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

Dabi smiled, brushing a stray tear from her cheek. "You'll never have to find out," he promised. "We'll get through this together."

Y/N nodded, a small smile tugging at her lips. For the first time in days, she felt a glimmer of hope. With Dabi by her side, she knew she could face the painful memories and come out stronger on the other side. And in that moment, she realized that love and support were the true antidotes to the pain of loss.

[marcspectorstannie]

☆All Nighter☆(Marc Spector x reader)

Summary- late night/early morning talk with Marc when he comes home to find you still up

Warnings- none I don't think? Just one curse but mainly fluff

A/n- when I started this it was 4:03, it's now 4:51 so that's my inspo ALSO GIF IS MINE!

A/n p2- dropping this bc now I'm obsessed w/ spiderman

☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★

'4:30 AM'

You were still up past your normally bed time.Bored out of your mind, hungry as hell, tired but can't seem to go to sleep, the list could go on. Your eyes stuck together as you blinked slowly, scrolling on your phone to tire yourself out. You weren't sure why you couldn't sleep but either way it felt like sleep was far away from where you were now. The hungry grew in your stomach as it cried out for some sort of food. Crawling out of your bed you slugged your way to the kitchen and made a bowl of cereal. 'No need for effort, this will just keep me up'

As you stood in the kitchen eating your cereal depressingly,you didn't the front door creek open and close. "Babe? What are you doing still up?" You jumped at the sudden voice near you, nearly choking on your food. It was your boyfriend Marc,wearing some torn clothes and a baseball cap. He looked extremely exhausted. "Jesus Christ Marc, you scared me." He removed his cap and hung it near the door. He watched you continue eating after the quick scare and leaned on the table in front of you. "Why are you up at almost 5AM? You're usually sleep by now." Usually you're greeting to him at this time was your sleeping face pressed into the pillow with and arm being moved from the sheets to his waist in bed. "I don't even know, couldn't seem to fall asleep even though I feel like I can pass out at any second." Marc sighed and stood next to you, taking the spoon out of your hand and stealing a bite from you. You were too tired to even care. You just wanted to finally get that feeling of sleep taking over your body.

"You're lucky you don't have work tomorrow or else you'd be fucked"

"I do have work"

Marc's eyes widen as he rushed over to take the cereal from you. "Why in the world are you up at this hour when you have work tomorrow.Are you ok? Something wrong?" You could tell he was a little pissed but concerned. "I'm fine I swear, I said I just can't seem to fall asleep. No big deal." It was a big deal. You could feel yourself go insane with nothing to do when you can't do the main thing you want to do. Sleep. You knew you had to work tomorrow early and continued shoveling the cereal in your mouth. Marc took the bowl from your hands and set it on the table. Placing his hands on your arms, he looked at you with a concerned face, almost like a dad about to discipline his kid. "Here's what we're gonna do, ok? We're gonna get you some water, and we're gonna lay right in that bed, no matter how long it takes you to go to sleep." You rolled your eyes at his demands but you knew that's what you really wanted. Still holding onto you, he walked you over to the side of the bed and sat you down, then rushed to get you some water.

You tried to glare at him through your heavy eyelids but they fell back shut. Slowly drinking your water, Marc went to dispose of the cereal and cut off the lights. He slid into the bed with you and snaked his arms around you. "Time for bed sleepyhead." You tried to laugh at his nickname but all you could muster was a small smile. Laying down once again, you turned to face Marc and watched him admire your tired face. "Here, cmon" he pulled you closer and placed you on his chest "Tomorrow morning, you're gonna call your job and say you can't make it. You're gonna say something came up and you'll be back the next day." Too tired to object, you simply nodded and nuzzled your face into his chest. Marc smiled slightly a kissed the top of your head as you both drifted off to sleep at last. Maybe all you needed was some cuddles and cereal.

☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★

[queer-overwatch]

hi!!! it's super nice to see people opening their requests for venture bc I have been digging(pun intended) for content recently!! I don't normally make requests but I particularly like this blog! if possible, could I request venture with a reader(any pronouns) who deals with rlly intense migraines? if you're unfamiliar, the primary symptoms come with headaches that can range from moderate to severe, nausea, sensitivity to light, sound, smell, lightheadedness. mine have gotten worse recently and I need some comfort 😭 thank you, and I hope you have a fun time writing!!

Venture w/ Reader that has frequent Migraines

here you go we hope this works out for you and thank you so much !!! -Xor & Frisk

══════ஜ▲ஜ══════

Venture is very accommodating, as loud as they are, when they pick up that you're not doing too great they quiet down as to not make you're Migraines worse

When you feel nauseous they're quick to suggest some fresh air or they offer you a gingersnap cookie, often recently made.

They found out ginger was a good help, no matter the way it's consumed, digging through old recipe books they got their hands on.

They're prone to having the lights on bright due to the need to see express differences in rocks. They got themselves a little spotlight so they don't disturb you when your migraines flare and the light becomes too much.

When the Migraines themselves start up they are usually by your side as soon as possible just in case you feel lightheaded and need to lean on them.

This has also caused them to be prone to picking you up and carrying you to bed or a darker quieter room.

If you allow them to they 100% enjoy getting physically affectionate and just holding you close in the dim lighting. Quietly rambling either about their latest findings, old relics and myths or whatever they find interesting

Over all they do their best to be accommodating but they're also very loud and very excitable, so they mess up sometimes. Shouting from across the room or house, with an energy that you can't always match.

══════ஜ▲ஜ══════

A little bonus blurb because we're so excited!!!! - Xor

This was written by frisk btw

"Uuuugh-"

Rummaging around Wayfinder's medbay, you wince, eyes squinted as you try to find the stash of Advil you'd hidden specifically for times like these. You had a horrid migraine and couldn't get it to subside no matter what you tried.

Turning the lights off? Didn't help. Drinking water? Nothing. Taking a nap? Couldn't get to sleep in the first place!

Spotting the bottle of your precious meds at the back of the cabinet you were ransacking, you snatch it off the self, taking two out of the bottle and silently celebrating your victory over your own brain.

Taking the pills with a totally-not-stolen water bottle, you head back to your own room to sit in the dark and hate everything for however long this migraine decides to last. As soon as you step out of the medbay though, the sound of your wonderful, amazing, spectacular, yet also extraordinarily *loud* partner, Venture, returning from their latest expedition and heading straight for you.

"(Y/n)! Guess who just found the coolest artifact ever! It's super small but its green which is awesome and it's glowing which is a little concerning but if it's cursed that just makes it even cooler and-!"

You hold up a hand to interrupt them, pinching the bridge of your nose in pain.

"Venture, love, please- you're a little too loud right now."

Almost immediately, they stop talking and stare at you silently. Without saying anything, they grab you by the shoulders and start pushing you to their room, making sure you didn't drop anything as they did.

"What- Venture what are you doing?" You question them, but allow them to guide you as they push you to what you find out is there room, letting them sit you on the bed once you reach it.

"You've got a migraine, right? You only ever tell me to quite down when you got one of those, so I wanna help!" They smile brightly at you, hands on their hips as they whisper, still as enthusiastic as before, just quieter.

You stare at them for a moment before softening, the love and concern in their eyes making you weak, then again, they were far too adorable to *not* have you wrapped around their finger. You nod and take the Advil you'd stolen earlier, watching Venture as they close the door to their room and turn off the lights, turning on a small nightlight they have instead so you could still see.

"Thank you, lovely. So, what is that you were saying about a cursed artifact?"

Immediately, they grin wider than ever and plop down next to you, wrapping an arm around your waist and quietly telling you all about this apparently 3000 year old "cursed" artifact they got from someone named "Ana," no clue who that is, you silently nod along and listen to them as your headache slowly starts to fade.

[ellieslittleburrow]

Requested by anon : i hope this isn’t too dark but could i request joel with a daughter who’s a recovering addict?? and just how he would deal with that

Warnings : ADDICTION recovery, swearing, a clingy father and a ghostly mention of a blackout.

A/N : i hope you like this, anon.❤❤ Also i have a feeling i conveyed Joel a bit weaker than he usual is??? But in my brain it's the Joel that met up with Tommy again. The exact addiction was also not specified so i tried to make it as neutral as possible. Anyway, enjoy yall! 🧚‍♀️🧚‍♀️

------

"Hey" A soft smile phantoms over your dad's face as he enters the room. "How are we feeling this morning?" He attempts enthusiasm but fails. You don't push... At least he tries...That's what you keep saying to yourself.

It's been a few months since your last episode. Call it episode of whatever you want, anger, last straw, the moment you gave yourself another chance...

"We're good..." You awkwardly stand in the middle of the room, timidly swinging your foot forward and backward "Should we...?" You throw your chin forward, motioning towards the door.

"Yeah!"

----

Since that last time, living with Joel has been a blessing and a curse. The heavy silence that sets in the car every time you went somewhere, the weight of knowing what occupied both of your minds and not being able to do anything about it.

There were fights. Like that time he entered your room without knocking, causing you to startle and to to swing your habd behind your back.

He'd ruin the fucking surpr-

"What are you hiding behind your back?" His low tone slaps you like thunder and you realize wht he has in mind.

Your heart stings and you scoff. stupid you for thinking about him, yeah?

You hold out the glass jar, examining its contents one last time. A letter, a pocket watch, a small knife and a monarch butterfly you stupidly taxidermied, thinking it was the thing he loved the most. "Monarch butterflies..creatures guided by an ancient instinct to seek sanctuary in distant lands...Kinda remind me of myself..." He'd always say. So you violently hurl the bottle at the ground, meeting his eyes as the bottle shatters. "Well, it was your gift." You force a smile. "There it goes." And before brushing past him, you make sure to spit on the contents, just in case he ever decided to pick them up after you.

He grips your arm as you walk by. But you yanked it away, throwing him a glare before leaving.

He begs later. More than once, for a few days. "I-I-I'm sorry, I-I" He holds your hand. "I can't imagine how much that hurt..."

There were also other times where tears flowed. Tears being his...least favorite thing.

Like that time your body shut down...Went numb and you found yourself on your knees, hyperventilating as you search for air to breathe. Nothing serious, just pure exhaustion and lack of sleep. On his face of the moon, you fell to the ground and were unable to breathe, your colors washed off and your eyes widened....What's happening to you??? He doesn't know.

He rushes down to the ground and leans close to your face, feeling for..symptoms. "What-w-what is it-what's happening?" He shouts through panicky unsteady breaths. And as you struggle to even utter a word or two, tears stream down his face. "Please tell me what's happening."

Again, nothing serious on your side. Just a bad flashback for him, from back when you blacked out last. When he almost lost you.

That being said, bad moments weren't the only things that shaped your relationship. There were good moments too.

Good moments where words weren't needed for him to show how much he cared for you. He'd -not-so-discreetly watch you eat, from the corner of his eyes. and he'd sometimes lay awake, waiting to comfort you.

he'd also supervise you from time to time (More like spy on you).

You once couldn't deal with it anymore. And your prankster attitude couldn't let it slide easily. So you decided to prank him.

On your stroll through the woods, you stopped in your tracks, whirling around to point your rifle at him.

"Show yourself or i'm shooting your eyeballs off." Stern and threatening, you shout.

He startles, abruptly raising his arms up. "It's me!!!! It's me." Fear laces his voice. "It's just me."

A smirk creeps up on your face. "I know." You snort. "I got ya good." You got him goood.

His shoulders slouch and he breathes out heavily. "You sure did."

"Are you following me?" You ask, still keeping the same distance between the two of you.

"N-no, i'm j-"

"Just following me."

He sighs again. "No, i a-"

"Spying"

"NO! I'm just making sure you're not....Just making sure you're okay."

You debate whether to tell him that's literally spying or to just leave it. So you just shrug. "Okay...sure."

It can be suffocating at times, But you appreciate the effort anyways.

"Go home, dude." You turn on your heels and head away from him.

On your road to full recovery, you find yourself missing things that you promised yourself and the world you'd stay away from. With Joel on your side -and sometimes up your ass- You find yourself wanting to run, but always ending up wanting him back by your side. Because as protective and annoying as he can be, he's also always there whenever you find yourself falling back down, easing the burden of being this new person you're trying to be.

------

"Are you listening?"

You smile at him, thrown off by the sudden come back you had to do. "Yeah. Let's go."

--------

Hiiii! I hope yall enjoyed thiis, even though it's different from the usual style ❤❤🌸🥀🥀