#oh man oh man oh man look at Ryan in the first gif

[iluvloganhowlett]

DATING HUGH JACKMAN HCS ࣪𖤐

sfw headcannons of what i imagine it like to date hugh jackman!

warnings: tbh none j a lot of fluff

- hugh is literally the biggest gentleman there is; he’s big on holding open doors, pulling out chairs, opening car doors, paying for dinner, all that stuff

- u def hang around set with him and the rest of the cast

^^ i feel like bc of this, u and ryan would probably end up becoming pretty good friends considering how close him and hugh are

- he does everything in his power to try and make you laugh. it literally brings him sm joy js to even hear a little giggle come out of your mouth

- he’s always talking about u in interviews

^^ stg the host will try and talk ab the show and he’s all “oh yeah y/n gets me lunch everyday on set and brings it to my trailer”

- he’s a big teddy bear.

- i j know this man is the biggest cuddler there is man

- he’s so big on physical touch

- somehow, he manages to snatch tiny props from the set and bring them home to you, talking about some “baby i got you something from on set”

- idk how i thought of this but i feel like he’d sometimes pull pranks on you at home by randomly switching to his american accent mid convo / mid sentence

^^ then he’d end up laughing really hard at the shocked look on your face

- he’d do everything in his power to get you a small cameo or role in any of his movies just to have an excuse to be around you more

- he’d also try to get you invited to interviews

- like i said earlier, he’s a gentleman; he’d fs buy you anything and everything you want

^^ lit as soon as you even look at something in a store a certain way, he’ll either buy it online when you’re home or he’ll sneak away and bring it to the register without you knowing

- the first thing he’d do in the morning is kiss you no matter where it may be; your neck, lips, shoulders, collarbone, back even. he’d j do it

- to focus on you instead of hugh, you find him acting to be adorable and hot at the same time

^^ you’d def gush over how he acts when he makes a mistake, or even the shift from in character to out of character when the director yells cut

alr chat that’s it but i love hugh😯

taglist!!

@velvrei @spazwayy @oatmilkriver @sseleniaa @mei-simp @wittyjasontodd @wolverinesangel @realsimpbitchshit @pickuptruck01 @keigohawks @thereallchristine @zeeader @pink-jello-fish @twinky-wink @malfoys-demigod

[moonxknightx]

♡˗ˏ✎*ೃ˚ : THE FACE BEHIND THE MASK : :;

╰┈➤ ❝ [PAIRING] ❞ Wade Wilson x F!Reader

・❥・GENRE: Fluff :))

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆FANDOM: X-Men

ੈ✩‧₊˚ WARNINGS: None!

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥SUMMARY: After months of dating Wade Wilson, you ask him to show his face, promising that his scars won't change your love. Despite his fears, Wade reveals himself, and you reassure him that he is beautiful just the way he is.

LIVING NEXT TO WADE WILSON HAD ALWAYS BEEN AN ADVENTURE. From the random explosions at odd hours (he called them "enthusiastic cooking attempts") to the incessant chatter that came from his side of the paper-thin walls, there was never a dull moment. Somehow, despite all the madness, you'd become fast friends. He’d wormed his way into your life with his never-ending supply of sarcasm, absurd humor, and unexpected kindness.

And then, somehow, you’d started dating. It wasn't the conventional type of dating—nothing was conventional with Wade. He’d whisk you away on spontaneous adventures that ranged from fighting ninjas ("It's like cardio, but with more blood!") to watching rom-coms while he provided his own colorful commentary.

But there was one thing that had never happened in those months. You had never seen his face. Sure, you'd seen his mouth, his jaw, the occasional glimpse of his eyes through the mask, but never the whole thing. He was always careful to keep the mask on, only slipping it off when he was sure you weren't looking.

At first, you hadn't pushed it. You knew about his past, the pain he'd endured, and how self-conscious he was about his appearance. But as your feelings for him deepened, so did your curiosity. It wasn't just about seeing the man behind the mask—it was about connecting with him fully, scars and all.

One night, after a particularly wild date that ended with Wade hog-tying a group of particularly rude henchmen ("They were asking for it! Literally, they asked if I could teach them some knots!"), you both collapsed on your bed, breathless and laughing.

"Wade," you said, once your giggles had subsided. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure, but if it's about why I wear red, the answer is 'because it hides the bloodstains.' And also, it makes my butt look fantastic."

You chuckled, shaking your head. "No, it’s not that. I was just wondering... why don’t you ever show me your face?"

The room grew quiet, the only sound the faint hum of traffic outside. Wade’s usual banter was noticeably absent, and you could sense the shift in his mood.

"Oh, you know," he began, his tone a little too casual, "it’s just that I’m devastatingly handsome, and I don’t want you to fall even more in love with me. Also, there’s the possibility that you’ll look at me and your eyes will literally explode from the sheer beauty. It’s a risk, really. For your safety."

You reached out, gently placing your hand on his. "Wade, I know you're joking, but I also know this is hard for you. I don’t care about your scars. I care about you."

He hesitated, his fingers tightening slightly around yours. "I just... I don’t want you to see me and then regret everything. I’m not exactly Ryan Reynolds under here."

You couldn’t help but laugh at that. "Well, good, because I’m not exactly Blake Lively."

He snorted, finally looking at you. "She wishes she was as cool as you."

Taking a deep breath, Wade sat up and reached for the edge of his mask. "Okay, but if you scream, I'm outta here. And I’m taking all the pizza."

"I promise not to scream," you said, your voice soft. "And I’m keeping the pizza."

With a final sigh, Wade peeled off the mask, revealing the man beneath it. His face was covered in scars, the skin rough and uneven, a far cry from the smooth, unblemished look he used to have. His eyes, however, were the same—warm, mischievous, and full of vulnerability.

You didn’t say anything at first, just took him in. Then, slowly, you reached out, tracing the lines of his face with your fingers. He flinched at first, but as you continued, his muscles began to relax.

"You’re beautiful," you whispered, meaning every word.

Wade rolled his eyes, but there was a hint of a smile on his lips. "Sure, if by 'beautiful' you mean 'looks like an avocado had a passionate affair with a much older, uglier avocado.'"

You laughed, leaning in to press a kiss to his cheek. "No, I mean you’re beautiful because you’re you. And I love you. All of you."

For a moment, Wade was silent, his usual stream of jokes and quips nowhere to be found. When he finally spoke, his voice was quieter than you’d ever heard it. "You really mean that?"

"I do."

He pulled you into his arms, holding you close. "Well, in that case, I guess you’re stuck with me. Scars, bad jokes, and all."

"Wouldn’t have it any other way."

You spent the rest of the night wrapped in each other’s arms, the world outside forgotten. As you traced the lines of his face, memorizing every scar, Wade made a few more self-deprecating jokes, but they lacked the usual sting. Instead, they were softer, more playful, as if he was finally starting to believe that you could see beyond the surface.

As the night went on, your hands continued their gentle exploration, and Wade's breathing grew steady and calm. For the first time in a long time, he felt truly at peace, his heart no longer burdened by the fear of rejection.

And as you lay there, his head resting against your chest, you knew that no matter what, you would always find him beautiful—because beauty, you realized, was more than skin deep.

I fucking LOVE Wade!

I’m going to make a taglist for deadpool content! If you like to be added, let me know! 🫶

[theblacklewinsky]

Note: I'm feral for this man and this song + struggling w my writing format ( im new to this omg )

JADED | AARON PIERRE.

Toxic!Terry Richmond x Black!Female Reader.

warnings: MNDI!! this story is 18+ with depictions of but not limited to; sexual content ( finger!ng), extreme language (cursing, use of n-word, use of b-word), talking you through it. lil bit of exhibitionism if you squint, mild daddy k!nk.

summary: in which you decide to end the toxic situation-ship you share with Terry— except this man only know how to suck you back in.

tell me that we locked in, locked in, look in my eyes.

tell me that you mine and we ain't just fuckin, ain't just vibin.

Why were you nervous? It wasn't like you'd never been in the very same GMC pickup before—oh you'd been in here plenty times, plenty times. Your eyes flickered to whatever they could, other than him.

The backseat.

The same backseat you'd been folded. flipped, and fucked out on. It was clean now, he'd definitely had some detailing done, the remnants of how he made you squirt only two weeks earlier had vanished, once etched into the seat itself.

And why were you sad about that?

You averted your eyes away from the backseat, firmly turning straight forward in the passenger seat, teeth nervously gnawing at the skin in your jaw. It was way too silent and tense in the truck. Way too silent. "Hi..” you sheepishly muttered, tucking a stray curl from your wash and go behind your ear, eyes darting around the parking lot of your apartment complex. The parking lot was the safest option for you, you knew how incredibly intoxicating Terry was, which meant the more space from your bedroom, the better.

Out of your peripheral, you could see Terry's face contorted into a twisted mix of confusion anger. His brows furrowed together, a mug presenting itself on his face. "What the fuck?" He spat. "Wassup?" He asked, his tone more accusatory than anything.

Where the fuck did he get off acting hurt and confused? That was supposed to be your stance in this whole thing, hurt and confused. And most of the time it was. But tonight, it was a nice change of pace, the hurt and confusion lingered on Terry instead—in which you could finally take on the nonchalant and curt demeanor. It felt so good too. So good to finally not be the one with the lump in their throat, eyes burning from blinking back tears. This felt, good.

"Nothin', just chillin," you simply responded, playing with the smartphone in your lap, acrylic nails tapping at the casing.

"Fuck you mean just chillin?" He asked his brows furrowed as he tried to catch your darting eyes. "You ain't been seein' me text you?"

"Yeah?" You responded slowly in a questioning tone, as you focused on the ASICS on your feet. "Been busy lately."

You seen Terry texts. Shit, the past couple of days he'd been the one blowing you up. It started the other night when he rung your bell and you didn't answer, you knew it was him, and he knew you were home. Lights still on and bright in the kitchen.

Private Ryan: Just rung the bell

Private Ryan: Come out.

Private Ryan: I'm sorry for the way I acted the other night. I ain't handle that situation like a man. Lemme make it up to u

It was so hard ignoring Terry, he made it hard. He didn't text or call often, he wasn't hardcore into his phone like the rest of the generation, maybe the marines played a part in that? Hell, he made sure to stay active in an effort not to get addicted to his cellular device—that's why when he texted it was a big deal.

But no way this nigga thought that you'd be at his every beck and call when he couldn't even solidify a title between the two of you? Casual sex and jealousy gets old—especially when it isn't under the terms of a relationship.

It was fun at first, linking up and sneaking off. Getting folded like a lawn chair when you least expected it, but there was something about Terry that brung the strings to a no-strings-attached situation. You started craving him, wanting him, and you made that very clear, but Terry made his intentions crystal clear from the beginning. How could you fault him for not wanting what you want? But how he could he also fault you for the change in your attitude?

"Busy?" He repeated the word like it disgusted him. His burning gaze tore through you, you could feel the heat radiating from his glare. Terry let out a heavy breath, gently tapping his fist against the staring wheel as he finally averted his gaze to the windshield. Thank Q!

But as he tore his gaze away from you, you centered yours on him. And why the fuck would you go and do that? Knowing how gorgeous he was, especially when he was pissed off? Clenching and unclenching his jaw. He had some nerve coming over here with a fresh cut. Everything so lined up and sexy—

"I came over here, a few days ago," he sternly spoke, the rough edge to his voice only setting off the throbbing in your pussy, "and you know that 'cause you was home, lights on and shit, I'm textin' you and you reading the shit in real time. What the fuck?" He repeated the three words once again. His voice growing rougher by the second.

"Two weeks ago, I'm fillin' you up and today you actin' cold as hell? Fuck is goin on?"

And why did he keep saying all the wrong shit? Filling you up was an understatement, he was stuffing you to the brim quite literally, to the point where he had bottomed out and was still tryna give you more. Filling you up, ha.

"I can't do this anymore, Terry," the words came out of your mouth abruptly, almost like you could trust yourself to say them. Terry sat there unwavering, he didn't speak, he didn't move. This only prompted you to continue. "It's too much, we both want...different things. And I'm tired of feeling like I'm overextending myself to you, being too available for you. I can't do...whatever this is anymore."

"Pea..”

"Don't do that," you firmly responded. The direct eye contact didn't seem to deter you this time. There he went. Playing those mind games. Calling you that nickname. Pea. A shorter version of the popular nickname your grandfather frequently referred to you as, sweet pea.

Terry kissed his teeth. Oh he thought he knew what was up. It'd became clear as a day. "You fuckin' somebody else." The words came out soft, quiet almost as if there had been a realization.

You let out a heavy sigh, your eyes rolling at the comment, " I'm not having sex with anyone, Terry." You spoke truthfully. As if you could. He made that hard enough, he stuffed you perfectly. He knew how to find that spot inside of you so easily, almost like he vacationed there in his spare time. He knew exactly what made your eyes roll back, what made that squeal in the back of your throat come barreling out, he knew your body too well to let anyone else come and have a gander.

"But I am dating," you said more quietly than you anticipated. Maybe it's because the recent dates haven't been anything to brag about. Not that your online dating profile and messages to your homegirl hadn't been highly specific, you've been attracting the same types. Baby daddies and men way too old to still be trying to just hook up. "And I know what I want, and it's not this...anymore. I wanna be able to climb in bed with a man and wake up beside him too, and not worry about him being hot or cold, or when I'll see him again," yuck. Why did you feel that damn lump in your throat again?

"I'm so tired of feeling disposable." You finalized. Flashing your watery eyes to the window adjacent to you. You weren't gonna cry in front of him. Shit, you weren't that tender. But all your feelings hitting you at once in this situation made you more emotional than you gambled for. You knew the nonchalant facade would only last so long on you. Terry was trained in that shit. He had a poker face like no other.

Terry didn't deter his gaze from you, his gorgeous eyes soft and lingering. "I don't try to make you feel disposable, Pea."

"Yeah, well, you don't have to try. You just do." You mumbled quietly. "That's why I don't wanna do this shit anymore."

Terry kept his eyes on you, reaching his large hand out to grasp your smaller one at a failed attempt at interlacing your fingers when you snatched away.

"Stop, Terry!" You frowned folding your arms. "I'm serious. No more calling, and texting, and popping up at my place."

He barely acknowledged you, kissing his teeth and leaning over the center console to rub his hand across your tummy, gripping your sides. "Why you actin' like that? Like you don't miss daddy?" He mumbled softly, pressing soft kisses to your temple.

This man didn't give up. Your restraint was at zero, and just like that you were putty.

You shook your head, arms still crossed as you let out a small whimper in which you claimed to be a protest. Eyes lowering at his wandering hands. "Hm, you don't miss daddy?" He asked in response, his hand sliding back over your tummy, fingers fondling with the button on your shorts.

This is exactly what you wanted to avoid, that was the whole point of the parking lot. Far away from a bed. But you should've known that you didn't need a bed with Terry.

And yet, just like a dumb bitch you shook your head once again. Playing into his sick little game.

He trailed his soft, teasing lips down your cheek until he reached your neck, leaving a searing trail behind on the skin there. You sucked your bottom lip in, a solid attempt at trying to keep whatever moans he was pulling out of you at bay. You couldn't betray yourself even more than you had already done. You came down here to end things, and instead you were about to get folded in half once again. The circle of life if you will.

"You don't miss me? So why you lettin' me take these off you right now?" He asked. Oh he was soo condescending. He tugged on the bottom of your shorts, and look at you, lifting up to help him earning a chuckle. You were so easy. "Nipples been hard ever since I touched you," he mumbled in between kisses to your neck, his hand busying itself up to your breast while your shorts slid down your legs, rubbing your hardened nipple through the thin fabric of your tank top.

You suck in a sharp breath. Your body was on fire. You felt like you were on fire. Every kiss made you hotter, and the way he was touching you had your pussy fluttering. You had to be ovulating, this shit wasn't normal.

"That pussy so wet, I know it," he spoke, his voice lower, lips sucking on the thin flesh on the side of your neck, hand roughly parting your thighs earning another isolated whimper from you. His hand rubbing the inside of your thighs, leaving a lingering tingle behind. He was such a fucking tease sometimes.

He kissed his way back to your cheek, all the while his hands left soft slaps, and grips to your inner thigh. Your eyes fluttered closed at his constant teasing, breathing uneven as hell. You felt like you were swelling with need.

"Look at you, baby," he hummed against your ear, "you a horny fuckin' mess," he tsk'd in your ear, fingers dancing over to your pussy. Fingers lazing dancing over your slit through the thin fabric of your panties. A shaky breath slipped past your lips a soft drawn out moan following. Hell, the betrayal was already done.

"Niggas not treatin' my bitch right, huh?" He rhetorically asked referring to your dates, his own eyes focusing on the lazy dance his fingers were doing on your barely exposed pussy, until he quickly got bored and used those same fingers to move the fabric aside. "Can't be, otherwise you wouldn't be this fuckin' turned on right now." He answered his own questions, fingers immediately doing slow, hypnotizing circles on your clit.

"Fuhhh," you moaned out in response, arms immediately parting so that you could grip onto the sides of your seat for a sense of stability.

"Mhm," he hummed in response, "pussy wet just like I thought," he mumbled dragging his pointer and middle finger up and down your pussy a few times before slowly slipping the both of them in your heated core at once earning a choked out moan from you. You fit around his fingers so perfectly, almost as if he'd molded your pussy to do so.

His brows furrowed as his fingers searched inside of her, knuckle deep, "fuck," he cursed, "look how you suckin' my fingers in you like that. You missed daddy, this fuckin' pussy missed me."

It wasn't like you could respond at all, he was literally pulling your moans out of you with his fingers. His free hand had busied itself with pulling up your tank top and exposing your braless titties.

"Look how you came out here," he kissed his teeth, fingers massaging your slippery insides, the lewd sounds of your pussy squelching on his fingers filled the pickup truck, his other fingers pulling and tugging on your hardened nipples, squeezing softly before quickly pulling away. "Barely fuckin' dressed, you wanted this. You wanted daddy to get you right, huh?"

"Talkin' about' dates, you don't want them fuckin' clowns," he hummed peppering soft kisses on your cheek, his fingers attacking that delicious spot inside of you. "You just want daddy to flood that pussy again? Make you his bitch?"

"Oouu shit, daddy!" You moaned out, eyes squeezing shut as your head lazily fell against his shoulder. Him humming in agreement to your moans followed by a cocky chuckle. "Right there, right there!" You rushed out. Your resolve had slipped away a long time ago.

"Where baby?" He cooed,his tone condescending. "Right here?" He asked his fingers never deterring from the spot, instead he pushed them deeper, faster.

Your eyes rolled back into your head as his fingers continued to work inside of you, he whispered other obscenities to you as he finger fucked you good. Deliciously good. So good that you couldn't decipher or comprehend anything he'd been saying. The sound of your pussy around his fingers was sending you to another bliss you didn't know you could reach.

"Listen to how messy that pussy sound on my fingers, baby," he groaned, his free hand gripping your face firmly, tilting your head up from his shoulder so that he could watch your facial expressions closely. He smiled as he watched you; eyes squeezed shut, lips forming into that familiar frown he knew so well, a long whine following suit.

"Yeah, that pussy wanna cum for daddy don't she?" He asked placing a sloppy kiss on your parted lips.

"Oh my god," you whined your brows furrowing as you opened your watery eyes to Terry looking down right at you.

"Yeah, she do," he mumbled nodding his eyes focusing in on the assault his fingers were doing to your pussy before slipping them out slowly, rubbing the stickiness he accumulated on his fingers onto your clit in slow, agonizing circles earning a whine from you. "You better not fuckin' cum though," he mumbled quietly to you, hand softly tapping against your cheek.

"Don't..cum?" You slurred through a moan for confirmation. You could barely comprehend what he was saying, you were so deliciously close. So close.

"Don't cum," he slapped his finger against your pussy lightly, the wet plaps almost enough to send you over the edge. Only almost though. "Get in the backseat, I wanna get in that pussy." He spoke hand slapping down on your sensitive pussy once again, sending trembles to your already weakened legs.

—

cheers to my first fanfic on here lolz! feedback and criticism always welcome 💗💕 hope you enjoyed xx!

[reareaotaku]

so I had a though what if the Barbies and the Kens actually had private parts but actively avoided them (think, using etc)?

Like Barbies do have boobs and you can see that the Kens have nipples. Also dolls - as far as I remember - had panties, craved in, panties.

I believe in the movie they talk about how they don't have genitals. Though, let's say that they do have privates, what would happen? Also ignoring the second part

Pleasurable Sin [Headcanons]

Yandere! Ryan! Ken x Fem! Reader Tw: Smut/Nsfw, Masturbation/Jerking Off, Ken has a dick! 🔞18+ Content due to dark and adult themes. Read at your own risk

The Barbies are more sexually aware/have a sexual education

The only reason the Kens don't ALSO have a sexual education is because they don't take it seriously [Also, they're not really getting laid]

There are no diseases, STD & STIs, because there's nothing to give it to them if that makes sense?

They are humanized versions of their doll personas, meaning they have human bodies and need food, water, air, etc

The Kens are very sexual

Your Ken, Ryan, is always touching you and humping you, quite literally

The first time Ken jerked off he had no idea what he was doing

He grabbed the base/shaft and slowly moves up towards the tip. He slowly picks up the pace, which causes him to groan. He really liked the feeling and speeds up. He quickly speeds up when feeling his lower intestine tighten up and then cums all over his hand

He's out of breath and excited with this newfound pleasure

It makes him wonder if you also feel like this

He's completely clueless and thinks you also have a penis

"Well, don't you pull on it too?"

You look at him confused, before laughing at him. He blushes, embarrassed, feeling like a fool."

"We don't have the same genitalia, you know that right, Ken?"

"Of course I do... So what does it look like?"

Once he does figure out what jerking off and how good it is, he does it a lot

When you rub against him, it's like seeing stars

It feels better when you rub him than when he rubs himself

Man will do anything for you to touch him

He's very loud and cries during sex

He'll cover his mouth when your mouth is wrapped around him, because he doesn't want anyone to hear him

Suck him like a lolipop, it's like a treat for him

Barbie Dreamhouse Ken would care about your pleasure

Ken is so excited and sometimes forgets to please you

He moves so fast and energetically

Though, if you tell him, he'll be more cautious, because his biggest fear is you not loving him. So, when he does realize that he's been upsetting/displeasing you, he's scared

While he does enjoy the feeling of being inside you, if you show any discomfort, now that he has eagle eyes on you, he'll be quick to ask what's wrong

He's willing to do whatever you're up for

He's also really easy to turn on

If Boner Alerts existed, his would go off anytime you're near

You don't even have to do anything; You just talk a certain way/Lean into him just a little to far/ You look at him a certain way... Well, it all works and he gets excited

He gets really sad when you say no, but is willing to do it by himself. He'd rather you help him, but it's okay, he'll just use his imagination

Oh boy, does his imagination run wild

Good thing Porn doesn't exist in Barbie Land, because he'd be wanting to do it all with you

While he does love 'Love-making', he doesn't think about it constantly. Sometimes he loves the way you look in the sunlight. You look beautiful when you smile. Your laugh makes his heart beat and his skin gets those goosebumps. A shiver runs up his back when you look at him like he's the only man in the world

There's no one else like you. Yeah, the Barbies are pretty, but you are one of a kind and you're the only person who owns Ken's mind

[corroded-hellfire]

I just realized it's them. Eddie, the Reader, and my kids.

It would be funny if they were watching the movie and Eddie teases them that they look like kittens and some say it's actually them as a family.

I needed to write this. Was very compelled to write about Eliza making everyone watch this movie lol. I hope you like what my crazy brain came up with!

Previously talked about on this ask too 😻

Words: 1.4k

[As You Wish masterlist]

Family movie nights have become rarer as the boys have gotten older, but the tradition hasn’t been altogether lost. Once in a while you can wrangle the boys down for an evening of snacks and family bonding. 

Luke is laid out on the floor as per usual, on his stomach and pounding down Doritos and Mountain Dew like a man starved, not a 14-year-old boy who just had three large helpings of baked ziti not an hour ago. Ryan occupies the La-Z-Boy lounger that is effectively known as Wayne’s chair, it being the older man’s favorite spot in the household. The older Munson brother’s attention is currently half on the movie and half on the girl he likes at school. 

Eliza is sitting cozy on the couch between you and Eddie. At some point during the movie, she’ll end up snuggled against either you or her father, but right now she’s content enough to sit on her own, her pink unicorn blanket spread out over her lap and little legs. 

Eddie is slouched against an arm of the couch but has his arm draped along top, the tips of his fingers just barely able to brush over the back of your neck. So, of course, that’s what he’s been doing since the movie started. You sit hip to hip with your daughter, a bowl of popcorn balanced on your thigh that she and you keep taking kernels from.

As the song Everybody Wants to Be a Cat ends, Eddie smiles to himself. He sees his children in all three of the troublemaking kittens that were just singing and dancing around on screen. 

Ryan notices and raises an eyebrow at his father. “The singing cartoon cats making ya happy, Dad?”

Eddie rolls his eyes and flicks a pretzel in his eldest child’s direction.

“No, smartass. I was just thinking how they remind me of you guys.”

Luke rolls on his side so he can look at his dad over his shoulder.

“Did I grow a tail I wasn’t aware of? I’d like to think you’d keep me updated on that kind of thing, Dad.”

“You’re the little wiseass cat,” Eddie says, gesturing to the screen with his chin. “The orange one that tries to act all tough.”

“Toulouse,” Eliza says, as if her father should’ve known his name and it offends her that he didn’t.

“And he’s the one who’s most like the dad,” you point out with a shrug. It’s no secret that Luke is basically Eddie’s twin.

“He’s not their dad!” Eliza says with a small huff. Her parents are disappointing her with their Disney knowledge tonight. 

“My point still stands,” you say before pressing a kiss to the top of your daughter’s head.

Luke shoves another handful of Doritos in his mouth and goes back to looking at the screen.

“I’m not a ginger,” Luke says, though with his mouth being full it sounded more like, “M’not a jinjuh.”

“Who’s he?” Eliza asks as she points to the black and white cat on the screen.

“I thought you knew all the names,” Eddie says. Eliza rolls her eyes, looking identical to her father as she does it.

“No. Luke is Toulouse so who Berlioz?”

“Oh, okay,” Eddie says now that his daughter has cleared up his confusion. “Definitely Ryan. He’s the quietest one but he can still be mischievous.”

“Silent but deadly,” Ryan says.

“Like his farts,” Luke adds, making Eliza giggle.

“Who me?” Eliza asks, looking up at her father with the same big brown eyes that she inherited from him. 

“Marie, of course,” Eddie says as he musses her curls. That name he knows by now. “You’re the spoiled, pampered, sweet girl of the gang.”

The word “sweet” doesn’t seem to matter to Eliza, only focusing on the first two. Her little round face pinches up in a frown; her brows coming together over her dark eyes and her lips forming into a puckering pout. You try, and almost fail, to contain your laughter as your daughter stares at your husband with the cutest menacing look you’ve ever seen. 

“What?” Eddie asks when she doesn’t look away.

“Not a spoiled kitty,” she says. 

“You asked!” Eddie scrunches up his face and sticks his tongue out at her. She does the same in return, proving that your husband is as mature as a three-year-old. 

Luke finishes the Doritos in his mouth and wipes his cheesy hands off on his White Sox shirt.

“You know, I think our whole family is like theirs,” he muses.

“What?” Ryan asks. By the tone of his voice it sounds like he’s over everyone talking and just wants to watch the movie in silence again.

“Yeah,” Luke says and gestures to the screen in front of him. “Stray, scruffy alley cat gets the pretty, sophisticated girl that’s out of his league?”

As unsubtly as possible, Luke jerks his head back towards you and Eddie on the couch.

“Hey!” you pout. “That’s not true.”

“Pretty much is,” Eddie admits with a laugh. 

You move to scoot closer to your husband, little Eliza getting caught in the middle. The small girl hisses like a cat when she gets squished between her parents.

“Jesus,” Ryan groans as he rubs a hand over his eyes. Any form of overt affection between you and your husband has been annoying the teen boy lately. Eddie finds it amusing and whenever the two of you are alone your husband quietly surmises to you that your son is more annoyed by the fact that he can’t express the same sort of affections to the girl he likes. It makes sense since Ryan has always been one to express his love physically with hugs and such.

Now, Eddie presses a smacking kiss to the side of your head—almost to spite Ryan’s attitude— 

before looking down at your daughter squeezed between the two of you.

“I think you even look like a kitty!” he tells her.

Eliza pushes her way to her feet on the couch with a huff. Watching her trying to stand in the cramped space has you tucking in your lips to avoid laughing. Once up, Eliza shoves at her dad’s shoulder as she’s seen her brothers do to one another many times.

“My little kitty!” Eddie teases, finding her reaction comical. He snatches Eliza and holds her in his lap as he tries to press kisses all over her face. Stubble scratches and rubs against Eliza’s soft skin, making her squeal and wiggle around in Eddie’s grip.

“If we’re all cats, do you think another family will adopt me?” Ryan asks in a sullen adolescent tone.

“No,” Luke answers simply. Thank God he hasn’t become a brooding, moody teenager—yet, anyway.

Eliza manages to slip free from her father’s grip and runs over to jump on Ryan’s lap.

“Save me!” she wails.

���Don’t worry, I’ve got ya,” Ryan says as she snuggles into his lap, tucking her head beneath her eldest brother’s chin.

Eddie takes advantage of the newly empty space between you, and he pulls you flush up against his side. You give Eddie a soft kiss before laying your head on his shoulder.

“Ick,” Eliza complains, looking over at you on the couch.

“Yeah, ick,” Ryan echoes.

“Wasn’t he the one who wanted us to have a baby practically as soon as we got together? Now he thinks it’s gross that I kiss you,” Eddie says softly to you, but not soft enough that Luke didn’t hear.

“Yeah, but now we got what we wanted,” Luke says with a shrug. 

“Maybe now you guys can get fixed,” Ryan says with a smirk. 

Eddie opens his mouth to retort but Eliza holds her arms in the air, an immediate call for silence.

“Shhhh! This good part!”

She snuggles back against her big brother, who sticks his tongue out at his dad.

Casually, Eddie wraps his arm around your back so he can flip his oldest son the bird without Eliza seeing. Ryan just laughs and goes back to watching the movie, curious to see what’s so special about this part. The sixteen-year-old’s laughter brings a smile to your face. You haven’t heard it as often as you’d like to lately.

After Eddie situates his arm around your shoulders, you snuggle up to him and drape Eliza’s unicorn blanket over your lap. The Disney movie is not as enticing to you as your husband is, so you press a kiss just below Eddie’s ear before whispering to him.

“I love our kittens. No matter how ferocious they like to pretend they are.”

Eddie chuckles his agreement.

“The cutest little feral monsters around.”

[justanotherescapism]

After all this time

Homelander x Super!Fem!Reader

Word count: 684

Spoilers for season 4

“C’mon dig in before it melts.” Homelander put the ice cream cake down on the table. He laughed, everyone around him was silent. Their eyes flicked back between the cake and the supe. They were shocked to see him, he hadn’t been back since he first left, they had hidden behind the safety of it. He walked around the lab, pointing and laughing with nostalgia. He may not like to think about it but he remembers every moment from his childhood. It was why he had to return today.

“You know what day it is today?” He looked around, no-one spoke up. “Today is the day when you sent her away.” 

“Joh-”

“Homelander.” He sneered. “Call me Homelander.”

“Homelander, you know why we had to send her away,” Marty tried to reason.

“Yeah, you said. You told me over and over again. But let me hear you say it, one more time.” Marty looked to his other colleagues, scared of what he had to say and how he would react. 

“She was a distraction.” Marty looked down, avoiding Homelander’s steel eyes. 

“Yes, a distraction, from what? The pain? The suffering? Yes, I guess she was.”

“Homelander, sh-”

“Oh don’t worry, I get it. I do.”

He looked at the rooms at the back of the lab. They weren’t allowed to be in the same room but they both had super hearing so they talked through the walls. Something had grown from that, something that even now Homelander craved. He thought he could get it from Vought but the company did nothing for him anymore. His son came closest, but he didn’t understand, Homelander suffered in a way Ryan couldn’t understand. When he looked at the rooms, he realized her door was closed. The tiny window was covered. He walked across to the door, his manic mood shifting. 

“Homelan-”

“Shut up, Marty.” He chuckled but gritted his teeth, staring at Marty, who looked terrified. Homelander grabbed the handle on the door, pulling it slowly. Inside was just how he remembered. The walls were stark white brick, the floor a cold concrete with no room for comfort. It was no bigger than a broom cupboard. 

But on the floor was a figure he recongised instantly. She was still here. 

“John?” 

“You’re here.” He quickly dropped to her side. She looked healthy - super healing and all - but her eyes were hollow, how long has she been down here? 

“After all this time, you came back.” She weakly smiled at him, tears flooding her eyes. 

“I’m sorry.” He dropped to his knees beside her, wrapping his arms around her. She hugged him back. He looked different but the same. She could still see the pain behind his eyes that others so easily missed. Tears fell from her eyes, as he shuddered, both in pain and excited. 

“Why?” He asked this not really knowing what the answer would be. He couldn’t understand why they’d keep her down here all these years, and lie to him about it. 

“Finding a way to destroy you. A safety protocol.” She fell more into his arms, her strength waning. Homelander’s jaw clenched. To find a way to destroy him, they needed to destroy her first. Torture for years and years. 

“I’m going to destroy them.”

“Make it painful.”

All she could hear was screaming and the sound of Homelander’s laser eyes. She smiled, she always knew some day he would come back, even if it took everything in her not to give up. All of them would die and she’d leave with the man she had loved since she was a child. 

“They’re dead. We can leave now.” He looked down at her. He was covered in blood from the people who had tortured them. She smiled, tears falling down her face. When she stood, she fell into his arms, hugged him tightly. He hugged her back, just as tight. The hole he had was filling and he felt her look up at him. 

They got into the elevator, holding hands. She shut her eyes, waiting to feel the sun on her face.

[bullet-prooflove]

4500 Follower Celebration Bingo - Adrenaline: Ryan x Reader (Yellowstone)

Tagging: @kmc1989 @trublu2u @yousigned-upforthis @queenslandlover-93 @hal3ynicol3

Companion piece to:

With Me (NSFW) - Ryan and you send the night together for the first time.

My Favourite Kind of Night (NSFW) - Ryan and you send the night together at a law enforcement conference.

The bar fight starts because another man tries to put his hands on you, not because he wants to fuck you but because he wants to hurt you. Ryan’s been around long enough to spot a predator, he can sense the subtle change in the air when that asshole’s eyes fall on you as you return from the bathroom, the subtle shift in body language before he starts to move through the crowd towards you, a flick knife opening up in his hand.

Ryan’s already slipping off the bar stool to intercept him by the time you look up and see the knife. The expression on your face changes, your hand automatically sliding to your hip where your gun would usually be. The thing is it’s Friday night and that weapon is locked up tight in a safe in the cottage.

The problem with policing in a small community is that sometimes you run into the family member of someone you’ve arrested or even the perpetrator themselves.  You’re a woman in law enforcement, statistically you see more violence from offenders than any of your male counterparts which is why when the guy’s arm pulls back to slash at you, you pre-empt it with a strike of your own. You punch him straight in the face, breaking his nose. His head snaps back, blood exploding from his nostrils as he crashes back into another patron, the knife tumbling from his hand.

It devolves from there because this guy, he doesn’t like being struck by the woman who arrested him for sexual assault last year. It’s always a power thing with these guys, they can’t bear to not to have it. He comes back at you like a wildcat, fists flailing and you react by driving yours into one of his kidney’s incapacitating him.

It’s all over by the time Ryan gets to you, you have that asshole on his stomach, his arm twisted up his back, your knee planted firmly in the centre of his spine. It shouldn’t turn him on but it kinda does because it’s just another example of how fierce you are, how capable. You’ve taken down a guy twice your size in nothing but high heels and a summer dress, he can’t vocalise how much of a badass you are.

“I’m sorry I fucked up our date.” You say as the two of you stand outside watching that asshole being loaded into the back of a squad car.  

“Honey, you have nothing to be sorry for.” Ryan says as he tips your chin up to meet his gaze. “You know how much I like a little bit of excitement.”

There’s a brightness in his eyes, a heat that resonates through your body all the way down to your toes. Most men would be running for the hills after seeing how your job bleeds into your life but Ryan isn’t like most men, he doesn’t back away from a little danger. Like you, he runs right into it.

“I’m gonna get fucked tonight aren’t I?” You whisper and Ryan smiles as he leans in close.

“Oh baby.” He murmurs, his lips brushing over yours. “The two of us, we have a lot of adrenaline we’re gonna need to work out.”

Love Ryan? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[enchantedflameandflower]

Billy Butcher fic! 18+

-Her breath caught in her throat and she had to swallow. The way he looked, standing over her, dark and tall and brooding and wanting, his gaze sweeping across her form as he unbuttoned his shirt and tossed it away…

“Butcher,” she reached for him, her gaze roaming over his chest, and he kneeled on the bed next to her. 

Glimmer 35/?

(You don’t need to have read previous chapters to enjoy this smut!)

Tag List: @2dead2function @secretdreamlandmentality

Thank you for all the love! You're all the best! This takes place during season 3 episode 6 (Herogasm) right before he tells Hughie it's not his blood ;) Oi, Oi! I recommend the watch!

Chapter 1

Previous Chapter (34)

~*~*~

Chapter 35

As Butcher slammed his car door shut he eyed the doorman at the posh uptown high rise warily from across the street. First test, he reckoned.

One last time, he tried to talk himself out of this…but no. This was the best way to get the information they needed. Or at least the quickest way. He didn’t have time for anything else, he needed that address now. 

And yeah it had nothing to do with the way he saw her face every night when he closed his eyes.

Butcher strode across the street, holding his breath as the doorman caught his eye, but the old man nodded, grinning. “Long time no see, Butcher,” he barked out in his rough Brooklyn accent. 

“Aye,” Butcher gave him his most charming smile, white teeth gleaming. “Well I -“

“That fuckin’ virus goin’ round really knocked me on my ass for a couple weeks,” the doorman continued. “Hope the temporary guy didn’t give you no trouble.”

“Oh, uh aye,” Butcher winked, changing tracks smooth as silk. “S’all good mate. Good to see ya back,” he clapped him on the shoulder. 

The man opened the door for Butcher and he nodded in thanks before he made his way across the lobby to the elevator. He punched in the nine digit code that gave Addison access to the top floors and gave a huff of relief when the doors slid open without a beat. Was he surprised? He wasn’t sure… Addison had always kept him on his toes.

The next test was the code for her door. He’d made damn sure when she moved in it always automatically locked no matter what. It was near unbreakable plus it had its own long code to get in. 

He pressed the numbers quickly; she would know it was him as soon as she heard the first beep. The door opened and he slipped in letting it close and lock again automatically behind him. 

Last test. She didn’t kill him immediately the second he closed her door. But she gave a beleaguered sigh from where she was standing in the kitchen. Fuck, did women take a class to learn how to do that all in the same way?

“What the fuck do you want, Butcher?” she muttered without turning around. 

Well could be worse, he thought shrugging to himself, so he went for it. “Need a favor, love.”

Addison paused in the middle of chopping a cucumber, seemed to freeze completely, and for a moment he wondered if she was actually contemplating throwing that knife in her hand at him. Maybe he shoulda taken a hit of that temp V before he came…

“Addi. It’s important. I’ve not got much time,” he argued when she still didn’t answer. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” She growled under her breath. “Why the fuck would I help you and don’t ‘love’ me.”

He still hadn’t seen her face, but he could see her clearly in his mind. Blue-grey eyes flaring, her cheeks flushed pink... “Cuz you can’t resist doin’ the right thing, can ya?” he answered with a knowing smirk.

“The right thing?” Finally Addison spun around to glare at him, her eyes shining steel, just like he’d imagined. “Are you high?” she huffed. “Are you on that shit right now?”

He shook his head. “Nah. I’m not. Pinky promise ya. And this is for Ryan. Would ya ever forgive yourself if something happened to him?”

Addison took a breath and closed her eyes, turning back to the counter but he knew he had her.

“I thought you didn’t give a fuck about him anymore,” she muttered.

“Aye, well, I know you still do, dontcha.”

Addison scoffed, shaking her head. “I fucking hate you sometimes, Butcher.”

He grinned and spread his hands wide. “Well join the club, sunshine. We meet on Tuesday nights.”

“We?” she muttered, as she scooped a handful of cut veggies and dumped them into a bowl. “You go to the ‘We Hate Butcher’ meetings, do you?” 

“I’m the fuckin’ President, sunshine.”

Addison rolled her eyes and turned around again, still brandishing the knife, which Butcher eyed warily. 

“What is it? What do you need so badly.”

Fuck she was gorgeous when she was mad. But he shoved the thought away and swallowed, focusing on the task at hand. “Need an address. The twins.” He made the motion of an explosion with his hands and she narrowed her eyes at him. 

“What for?”

“Just a simple deal with a… colleague , lo -“ he stopped himself just in time. 

Addison shook her head. “I can’t believe you’re doing this. You’re working with Soldier Boy, aren’t you? Are you insane? Did you miss the part when he blew up midtown? You look like a lunatic or worse helping him -"

“I don’t give a fuck what anyone else thinks ‘bout me. This ain’t just about revenge anymore and you know it. Homelander could kill half the country before the sun went down. That don’t compare to one building, which was an accident by the way. And half the country now…now that includes Ryan. And you. And…and this baby. And it ain’t fuckin’ right.”

He saw when her face changed and he knew he was manipulating her ruthlessly, but the fact was that it was true, too, and she knew it. 

“This is our best chance right now and I won’t let it go to waste.”

She sighed. “Explain what the fuck happened in midtown?”

Butcher shook his head. “It weren’t on purpose, whatever happened it was an accident. Look I’m not sayin’ the guy is an angel but this is our shot.”

Addison took another breath and blew it out and he knew he had gotten through to her. 

“Fine,” Addison said. “If you’re really sure this is the only way.”

“Too fuckin’ right I am.”

“I’ll get the address. But only because Tommy is a fucking piece of shit and I’ve been trying to get something solid on him for years,” she paused, looking at him. “But I want a favor in return.”

Butcher took a step closer, the corner of his mouth lifting in his most pleased smirk. He couldn’t help himself. She looked like his favorite desert and he was a starving man. “And what might that be?”

******

Addison eyed him for a moment, teetering somewhere between so fucking turned on she couldn’t stand it and irritated out of her mind… the smug, rugged, handsome asshole. And fuck if she didn’t miss him so much it hurt like an iron fist to the face. She had broke it off and she wasn’t changing her mind, but it wasn’t her fault she was going absolutely crazy….

“I wanna fuck.” She had to bite back a smirk of her own at the way his eyes lit up and then he grinned, dimple and all, the fucking bastard.

“Miss me that much, eh?” he teased.

“Listen,” she huffed. “My hormones are going crazy, and that is your fucking fault by the way,” she pointed the knife at him, “and the vibrator just isn’t doing the job.”

“You could always find a new lad to play with, can’t ya?”

Addison lifted her chin, just a fraction of an inch. “No.” She couldn’t. He was the father of her child, and to her…to her, no one else mattered. Not like that. So even if there was ever a time she didn’t want him, she didn’t want anyone else either. 

She turned back to the kitchen counter, chopping again before her expression could give anything away to him. Not that he didn’t already know but fuck. She wasn’t going to show it.

She heard him though, she heard him step up behind her and then his big, strong hand was sliding over her hip, and oh the things those fingers could do…

Butcher paused for a moment as if he was testing her, then, “Deal,” he husked and he spun her around. His hazel eyes were dark with emotion and she almost sighed dreamily with relief when he let his guard down and she saw that he wanted her too, that it wasn’t just her, that his words before had been just as hollow and false as she knew they were. As hers were.

Addison threw her arms around his shoulders at the same time he pulled her hard against him and captured her mouth with his. 

He groaned against her lips and she held on tighter. 

“Fuck, love,” he gasped when he finally pulled away to breathe, and that’s when she realized she had sliced into her arm with the knife, her blood smearing across his neck. 

“Shit, sorry…” she mumbled stepping back, chagrined. She tossed the knife in the sink and wiped off the blood on her forearm to make sure the cut had healed, and when she saw it had, she grabbed his hand, pulling him toward her bedroom. She couldn’t wait any longer. 

“Fuckin’ mental,” he muttered dragging his knuckles over the blood on his neck but she turned to kiss him again to shut him up, fusing her mouth to his, and then he was scooping her up in his arms to carry her the rest of the way. 

He coaxed her mouth open and his tongue swept over hers, playing and teasing. She broke away just as he reached the bed, her breath heavy and nodded toward her desk. “I’ll start a search really quick,” she breathed.

“Ah…almost forgot about that…” he grinned.

He set her down next to her desk and she leaned down, her fingers flying over her keyboard as she entered in a lengthy password and set up a scan for the information he wanted. When it was set, he swept her off her feet again and laid her down across the bed. 

Her breath caught in her throat and she had to swallow. The way he looked, standing over her, dark and tall and brooding and wanting, his gaze sweeping across her form as he unbuttoned his shirt and tossed it away…

“Butcher,” she reached for him, her gaze roaming over his chest, and he kneeled on the bed next to her. 

He helped her push her t-shirt over her head, and rumbled when he saw she had nothing on beneath, then pressed her back down to the bed and started a line of hot kisses down between her breasts, nipping and licking on his way. She bit her lip when he paused at her stomach and brushed his mouth just below her belly button and she knew, she knew he was thinking about what they had now, what was theirs, and she wished he would come to terms with it… But then he hooked his fingers in her shorts and tugged them down her long legs along with her underwear until she was naked beneath him and she felt like she was catching on fire. 

He kissed her knee then rubbed his chin over the top of her thigh and her entire body shuddered in response. 

“Butcher, fuck, please,” she begged before she could stop herself and she felt him smirk against her leg.

Impatient and eager, she moved, with his hands helping, until he could settle between her legs, his broad shoulders pushing her knees apart. 

“That’s my girl,” he murmured and then he dipped his head to slip his tongue inside of her. When he gave a gruff moan, and flicked his tongue lazily over her clit before stroking his tongue inside of her again she realized this wasn’t going to be a quick ‘get her warmed up then move on to the main event.’ No he seemed quite happy right there….

“Ohhh…” she whimpered, desperate and needy and eager. Almost as eager as he seemed to be.

Butcher swirled his tongue around her swollen bud and pressed his palms roughly against her legs, urging her to open wider for him. His skin was hot where it touched her and his beard tickled along her inner thighs. She slid one hand into his hair while she gripped the pillow with the other. 

“So good…” she whimpered. He knew. He knew every inch of her. Shifting again, he moved so he could slide his fingertips along her folds and then he teased two fingers just an inch inside of her, rumbling at how slick she was for him. His tongue kept up its lazy patterns over her swollen clit and when he felt her climb to the next precipice, he pressed his fingers all the way inside of her. 

Addison cried out as pleasure flooded through her body. Nothing could compare to this, to him. She lifted her hips eagerly, taking his fingers deeper and pushing against his tongue and he groaned in response, a pleased rumble of pride and approval. 

So perfectly, he began to pump his fingers inside of her and he caught her clit between his lips, flicking his tongue over it then sucking hard. Addison was already so turned on she felt like it would only take another second to explode, and she was ready, but then he slowed, teasing her. 

“This all for me, sunshine?” he rumbled, his fingers gliding easily though her wetness, looking up along the length of her body with dark eyes. 

“Yes,” she moaned; writhing against him; begging for more. “Just you. Please…”

“Good girl, so sweet…” he ran the tip of his tongue across his lush lower lip. “I can give ya what ya need.”

“Please Butcher,” she whimpered, tugging on his hair. 

He groaned and dipped his head back to her core, using his tongue and his mouth and his hand to hold her down and in the next moment she was clenching hard around his long fingers, crying out as her climax crashed through her, trembling and shaking with each wave of pleasure, one after another, a pure, all encompassing release. 

When she’d had enough, Billy shifted slowly, wiping his forearm across his mouth and pushing himself up from the bed. 

He glanced up at Addison, flush and still trying to catch her breath, but she could see the hint of uncertainty in his eyes so she reached for him. “C’mere…” He lifted his hand and she grabbed it, tugging, her eyes still alight with want. 

“Hang about,” he murmured gruffly, quickly shedding the rest of his clothes, then pulling himself over her on the bed. 

“Wait,” she breathed out, pressing her palm to his chest and holding him back. “Have you been sleeping around?”

“Oi, I wouldn’t say around,” he answered indignantly, making a face. “It were a mistake -“

Addison reached over to the table next to the bed, yanking the drawer open and pulling out a condom. “I don’t want to know, just -“ She pushed the small package into his palm. 

“Where were this two months ago?” he asked, holding the foil package up between his fingers.

“Fuck you,” she rolled her eyes, but her need overrode any irritation. “And hurry up.”

He grinned and sat back on his heels, tearing the package open and rolled the latex down over his thick cock while she watched. The tip of her tongue darted out to wet her lower lip and he smirked at her, dimple and all. 

“Shut up,” she muttered but she reached for him, pulling him close again, until their mouths met in a searing kiss. 

But when he pulled back again, his eyes were serious. “Are ya sure this is what you want, Addi?”

“Yesssss,” she groaned, nodding, and he moved without another seconds hesitation, nestling his hips between her thighs. She could sense him going slower as his belly pressed to hers. How long would it be before her belly curved up, how long before…

…but they both let it pass. 

"So fuckin’ gorgeous," he murmured low and smoky as he reached down and dragged his tip over her still throbbing clit.

Addison lifted her hips impatiently and it made him slide in an inch, groaning as he did. “More,” she whimpered. He caught his breath and pressed the rest of the way inside of her, filling her completely, deeply with one slow thrust.

She squeezed her body around his length and watched as his eyes went even darker. 

“Fuck ya feel good, princess.”

“Don’t - oh!” she whimpered as he pulled back and pushed inside of her again. “… call me that….”

He didn’t reply but he didn’t call her that again either. He started a rhythm, each thrust slow and measured and making her squirm beneath his weight.

Addison whimpered and moaned, sliding her palms over his muscled back, letting her short fingernails bite into his hot skin. He let out a deep groan, but continued his thrusts, precise and steady. 

Her entire body shuddered when he hit that perfect spot inside of her and her hips bucked up, taking him deeper. She bit her lip, but already she was teetering on the edge and desperate for him to take her over. 

“Please, yes, please…” she cried, wrapping her legs around his hips. 

“Does my girl wanna come for me again?” he husked, his breath hot against the shell of her ear. 

“Yes…” she gasped. 

He slid his hand between them, circling his thumb against her clit and she shifted to make more room. “That’s my good girl,” he rumbled. “Come nice and hard for me.”

She cried out and gasped again, beyond words now and after a few more smooth thrusts and slippery circles of his thumb she was climaxing, whimpering helplessly, throbbing around his cock and clenching hard. He followed just after with a gruff, deep moan and the sound sent her soaring again, a new sob of pleasure escaping her lips. 

He pressed his face to the curve of her neck, his arms pulling her to him as they rode out the waves together and Addison gave a long purr of sated joy, all of her body releasing the tension of the last few weeks at once. 

The two of them stayed that way for what felt like hours, him wrapped around her so tight it was almost difficult to breathe but she didn’t care. It felt like heaven. 

Eventually he moved and lifted his head from where it was buried against her neck, a few strands of her hair sticking to his damp skin. 

“Ya alright?” he asked, voice gruff.

“Mmmmm,” she hummed, and nodded. 

He moved, slow to let go of her, lingering just a little, but sitting up all the same. 

“I’d hate to be accused of bein’ unromantic but I’m on a bit of a schedule, sunshine.”

Addison nodded sleepily and Butcher stood, carefully removing the condom and tying it off before getting rid of it. Addison sat up at the edge of the bed, trying to work up the strength to get up but before she could, Billy swung her up in his arms again, and carried her to the bathroom.  

When she was done, he carried her back to the bed and she laughed softly as he tucked her in, pulling the thick comforter up to her chin as she snuggled into the blankets.

He lifted the towel he’d brought out to wipe at her blood that was dried on his neck but she made a soft sound and he turned to look at her, pausing. 

“Don’t,” she said in a quiet voice with a mischievous smile. “Leave it. Cuz you’re mine.”

“You’re stark ravin.’”

“You like it.”

He shook his head, but his expression was soft as he started to gather his clothes. 

“Billy,” she murmured as he tugged his pants back on, buckling his belt.  

It was the first time she’d used his first name since he’d been there.

“Do you really think you have a chance of taking out Homelander.”

“Aye. I have to try. For Ryan.”

“I know. And Becca. And the baby.”

He took a step back toward her. “And you.”

She nodded minutely. “I’m with you then.”

He was quiet for a moment before he looked away. “I best go.”

“Get my laptop.”

She tapped at the keys, and felt him watching her as her eyes scanned the results. “Vermont,” she said, turning the laptop to show him the address. 

He reached for a pen off her nightstand and scrawled the address on a scrap of paper before stuffing it into his pocket. “Thanks, Addi,” he murmured.

She nodded, but she was already drifting off again, turning to snuggle her face into the pillow next to her when she remembered she had been making dinner. “Will you bring me the chips from the cupboard before you go though…” she mumbled. 

“Thought you were making a salad?"

“Mmmm. D’nt want that… And a can of seltzer. And the gummy bears.”

Billy gave a low chuckle. “Oi, anything for you, sunshine."

His voice was soft, and it was honestly the most relaxed she’d felt in weeks. Maybe everything would be okay. 

Addison fell sound asleep, hugging a pillow to her chest, before he came back to leave her snacks on the bedside table.

~*~*~

Thank you so much for reading! Please let me know what you think! One word, a few words, many words, an emoji, all comments are good! Let me know what you want to see, anything!

Chapter 36

[storiesforallfandoms]

play date ~ ryan gosling

word count: 2386

request?: yes!

“hi could i request a ryan gosling x reader”

description: when he goes to pick up his daughter from a play date, he finds himself drawn to the mother of the other girl

pairing: ryan gosling x female!reader

warnings: swearing

masterlist (one, two, three)

Ryan pulled up to a house, double checking the address Eva had given him. It was the day he was supposed to pick up the girls for his week with them, but Eva hadn’t told him that they were over to a friend’s place for a play date. When he showed up on her doorstep, she seemed confused at first, until realization hit her.

“Shit,” she said. “They’re not here, they’re at a friend’s place. I totally forgot you were getting them today and forgot to tell you. Hold on, let me get the address.”

He knew it wasn’t on purpose that Eva let the girls go on a play date when he was supposed to be picking them up. He knew she had genuinely forgot what day it was, and didn’t think to tell him before he showed up. Their separation was amicable, and they continued to be friendly for the sake of their daughters. But that didn’t make the back and forth with the girls any harder. He didn’t want them to have to go through this; neither of them did. They fought so hard to make the relationship work, but in the end they had to make the difficult decision.

It was hard to be away from his girls. Ryan and Eva had come up with a schedule where the girls would go back and forth between them on a weekly basis, and specific holidays, but the schedule was often changed when Ryan had to film or do press tours. There were times when he went several weeks without seeing them, which had always been hard on him but, for some reason, it had been a lot harder since the separation.

No, he didn’t want to take the girls from their play date if they weren’t ready to go, but he was excited to finally get to have his time with them again.

He walked up to the front door and knocked. A few moments passed before a young woman opened the door. She seemed shocked to see Ryan on her doorstep, and he hoped he wasn’t about to have a fangirl encounter by the person who was looking after his kids.

“Can I help you?” she asked.

Ryan waited a moment before responding, trying to figure out if this was her genuine reaction or if she was just playing it cool. “I’m here to pick up my daughters.”

“What are their names?”

“What?”

“Your daughters, what are their names?” Ryan told her, but she continued to look at him skeptically. Wait, what? “Do you have some ID on you?”

A scoffed slipped from Ryan’s lips. “Are you serious?”

“Listen, I’m not just letting kids go with any strange man who shows up on my doorstep claiming to be their dad. That’s how kids get kidnapped.”

What she was saying made sense, and Ryan probably would’ve appreciated her extreme caution with his kids under different circumstances. But right now he just wanted to see his girls. He opened his mouth to respond, but was cut off by two small voices calling, “Daddy!” before two bodies barreled into him. Any annoyance melted away as he wrapped his arms around the young girls.

“Hey sweethearts,” he said, kissing each of them on the top of their heads. “You guys having a good play date?”

“Yeah!” they both said.

“Are you ready to go home? Let’s go get your things.”

He didn’t wait for the woman to invite him in. She had already stepped aside when the girls had come out, so he simply walked past her without any acknowledgement. The girls raced down the hallway and turned to go down a flight of stairs where the voices of other children could be heard. Ryan waited at the doorway of the porch.

“Sorry for the second degree,” the woman said. “I try to be protective over the children in my care. You never know what kind of sickos are out there.”

“It’s okay. I understand,” Ryan assured her. And it was actually okay. He had come to his senses finally. “Are you, like, an at home daycare?”

“Oh, no. I have a boy around the same age as your girls. I usually host the playdates for all the kids in the same grade. So, maybe I am an at home daycare at this point. My name is (Y/N), by the way.”

“Ryan.”

He shook her hand, waiting for her to connect the dots. He expected to see realization in her eyes, followed by the inevitable freaking out over meeting him. But it didn’t come. She shook his hand with a friendly smile before pulling her hand away. She gestured for him to come inside, so he followed her further into the house. He was feeling very shocked by the fact that this person wasn’t acknowledging his celebrity status, but he also wasn’t about to bring it up. This might be his one chance to feel normal for a few minutes, and he didn’t know her enough to know whether or not he could trust her with his kids after she found out he was famous.

(Y/N) led him to her kitchen and went to the fridge. “Do you want anything to drink?”

“I’m good, thanks.”

She gave him a look. “Those girls aren’t gonna be ready any time soon. You might want to make yourself comfortable.”

Ryan chuckled as he realized that she was right. It had definitely been enough time for the girls to get their things together and be ready to leave. Instead, he heard children giggling from downstairs, which he was sure was the kids playing again.

“Do you do all of this on your own?” Ryan asked as they sat down at (Y/N)’s table. “Being a not daycare?”

(Y/N) chuckled. “Yeah, I do. Sometimes some of the other parents will bring snacks and stuff when they drop their kids off, but no one sticks around to help. Not that I really need it, though. There’s not a lot of kids here usually, and they’re all very well behaved.”

“Your son’s dad doesn’t help out?”

She shook her head. “He’s not in the picture. He hasn’t been for a long time. Ever, really.”

Ryan winced. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be. I’m not looking for sympathy or anything. This is how things have been for me since Jake was born. My ex skipped down when I found out I was pregnant, so I got over it long ago.”

Ryan looked down at the glass of water (Y/N) had given him. He suddenly felt guilty for his feelings about his separation from Eva earlier. At least they had committed to remaining civil with one another for the sake of the kids. Even if Ryan didn’t get to see them often due to work, he still made the effort to see the girls and get his time with them. He couldn’t imagine never seeing his daughters, let alone not wanting to see them.

“Hey,” (Y/N) said, snapping Ryan out of his thoughts. “Stop with the internal pity party. I said I’m over it, and I don’t want sympathy.”

Ryan smiled. “I know, I’m sorry. I was just thinking I can’t imagine not being in my daughters’ lives. They mean the world to me.”

“They’re lucky to have you as their dad.”

A chorus of laughter came from downstairs. Ryan and (Y/N) both looked in the direction it came from, mirrored smiles on their faces. Hearing that his daughters were having such a good time made him not worry about how long he’d be waiting for them to be ready to leave. That and the fact that he was starting to enjoy his time with (Y/N).

“I have to apologize for how I reacted to your questioning earlier,” he said. “I didn’t really expect an interrogation when I came to pick up my daughters.”

She waved off his apology. “I took you by surprise. I can’t blame you for being annoyed. I just thought Eva was the one coming to pick them up, so when you showed up on my doorstep I was a little suspicious.”

“I appreciate you keeping the kids safe, though. At least I know I can feel at ease when they’re here. Eva didn’t tell me they were here until I showed up at her place to pick them up, and I guess neither of us really thought about calling you to let you know I’d be getting them instead of Eva.”

“Wait,” (Y/N) said. “Are you and Eva not together?”

Ryan shook his head. “We split up a few months ago. It’s been tough, but we’re trying to stay as friendly and civil as possible for the sake of the kids.”

(Y/N) looked like she was also deep in thought as he spoke. She nodded, but didn’t reply for a few moments. When she finally did speak, she had decided to change the subject and Ryan happily went along with it.

Time passed but neither of them noticed. They had gotten so deep into their conversation that they didn’t realize how long it had been since Ryan had told the girls to get their stuff together to go. They spent the time getting to know one another. After talking for some time, (Y/N) finally did admit that she knew of both Ryan and Eva’s fame status, but that she didn’t really care all that much.

“I met Eva before I knew she was famous,” she told him. “I only found out afterwards when this old re-run of 2 Fast 2 Furious was on TV and I recognized her. But by that point I knew her as the mother of Jake’s friends and I didn’t care to think of her as a big hot shot actress. Of course, upon looking her up I came to find out that her partner - or I guess ex-partner now - was also an actor.”

“But you didn’t know it was me when I came to the door?” Ryan asked.

“Well I didn’t look up pictures of you or anything, and I haven’t seen a single movie you’re in.”

“Not even The Notebook?”

(Y/N) made fake gagging noise. “Oh, I’m the exact opposite of Nicholas Spark’s demographic. The only one of his movies I’ve seen is that one with Clint Eastwood’s kid, and I only saw it because my best friend was going through a breakup and wanted to watch sappy romantic movies.”

Ryan chuckled. “You have no idea how refreshing this is, but also how relieving it is. It’s hard to find someone to look after your kids without worrying if they’ll run off and tell the press personal things to make a quick buck.”

(Y/N) scrunched up her nose in disgust. “That’s terrible. People are fucking awful.”

Ryan nodded his head in agreement. He didn’t have to be told twice. He had known that since he was a child himself.

Over an hour had passed by the time the two of them heard footsteps running up the stairs again. Ryan’s two girls, along with (Y/N)’s son, Jake, rounded the corner into the kitchen. Jake immediately ran up to his mother and jumped onto her lap. (Y/N) began to laugh as she wrapped her arms around him.

“What do you want?” she asked.

“Nothing!” Jake responded. “I love you, mommy?”

She gave him a skeptical look. “Okay, what do you want?”

“Hot Pockets!”

(Y/N) chuckled and kissed the top of the young boy’s head. “Okay, I’ll put them on.” To Ryan she added, “Do you guys want to stay for dinner? I know Hot Pockets aren’t anything super fancy or gourmet.”

“Can we daddy?” Ryan’s oldest asked.

He noticed then that neither of them had their things still. He smiled at the two of them and agreed, which resulted in loud squealing and repeated declarations of love before the three of them ran back downstairs.

By the time the girls were actually ready to go, they and Ryan were the last ones to leave. The other kids had been picked up hours ago by their parents, but Ryan stuck around as long as the girls wanted to. He was enjoying his time with (Y/N) and didn’t want it to come to an end when he wasn’t sure when or if he would ever see her again.

But the sun had began to set and the girls were starting to get tired, so Ryan knew it was time to go. They finally collected their things, said their goodbyes to Jake and (Y/N), and started for the door.

“Thank you for letting us stay over for so long,” Ryan said to (Y/N) after getting the girls into the car. “We didn’t mean to impose for as long as we did.”

“Oh, it wasn’t an imposition at all,” (Y/N) assured him. “Jake loves the girls, and I enjoyed the company as well.”

They both stood in silence for a few moments. There was so much more Ryan wanted to say, but he just couldn’t get any of it to come out. He wanted to ask if he could see her again, maybe ask her on a date but not be so forward that that was what he was doing. But at the same time, he was almost nervous to do that. He didn’t know for sure if she was single, if she was even interested in him that way, if it was a good idea to try and date the mother of his kids’ friend. But at the same time, he really, really wanted to see her again.

“You should come over some other time,” she said, filling the silence. “Like...with the girls or...maybe without them.”

“Oh,” Ryan said, both shocked and relieved that (Y/N) filled in the gaps for him. “Yeah. I would love to.”

They exchanged phone numbers and said goodnight again, lingering for a while before Ryan finally tore himself away to bring the girls home. They were both already almost asleep when he got into the car. He smiled as he looked at the two of them in his rearview mirror, and smiled more as he noticed (Y/N) watching them from the doorstep.

[crystalandparrot]

Rottmnt x Reader

Chapter 1

Please don’t steal or use ideas without permission :)

This is an AU! The reason will be explained in later chapters, but in this AU, the yokai and mutants are fully integrated with humans. The hidden city mainly consists of Yokai and mutants with the occasional human visitor or partner.

Donatello is an independent scientist who still goes by Othello Von Ryan. He found out through trial and error that he was not made for a group laboratory. Now Donatello mainly confides himself in his lab at the lair, he's expanded of course, a man of his caliber shouldn't have to deal with such a small area. He's made great strives in the scientific community, solving some of the world's leading problems. Having won numerous awards, he still finds himself unfulfilled somehow.

Michelangelo is a successful artist, both on paper and in the kitchen. He records himself on the internet, hoping to inspire young minds to fulfill their dreams, no matter how they may look. He prefers to try anything and everything he can, gaining many new skills and discovering new things about himself. Although his desserts were delicious, the feeling of being alone only left a sour taste in his mouth.

Neon Leon. Successful actor, known for being one of the first openly Yokai actor. He inspired other Yokai's and mutants to remove their disguises and embrace what makes them unique. Leon made the world laugh with his one liners and his comical timing. His range is crazy, going from musicals to action, his talent knows no bounds. Although he has romance on the screen, he couldn't hope for something a little more...real.

Raphael (and don't skin me for this), the sweet turtle, became a guidance counselor for trouble youths. You know those kids that throw chairs? Yeah, Raph helps them. More often than not, Raphael recommends the wrestling team, which Raph just so happens to coach. Raph's helped a lot of kids figure out how to reel in their anger and get to the root of their problems. Raph's even managed to give a few select students permission to cut class and go to the weight room if they felt too angry. But no matter how many people Raph's saved (and no matter how much Raph spoke in the third person), Raph couldn't help but feel like there was one more person he needed to help.

April O' Neal. Some say she's the greatest hands on reporter of all time. With Sunita as her partner and camerawoman, the two get dirty, discovering the real problems that people won't report. April's most successful and controversial paper, "Yokai, Mutants, and Humans, oh my!" gained incredible popularity after people read just how many Yokai and Mutants were feeling neglected. Due to April's paper, the government passed a law, allowing Yokai and Mutants to come up to the surface and reveal themselves with no prejudice. It's still an ongoing battle to give everyone the fairness they deserve, but April and Sunita O'Neil fight for justice.

(Y/n) (L/n). Oh wait! That's you! You're a kind hearted soul who's just gotten a job at the School's library. You must really love the Dewey Decimal System...oh you have a nickname for it? Wonderful...You're a creative soul with a passion for helping. You have a myriad of skills, all of which may not have helped in getting this job, but they might help in getting something else. Your day starts off, relatively normally...

Having just moved back to New York after living in the Hidden City for five years was...different, to say the least. Saying goodbye to the nice old tortoise Yokai you had been staying with, you headed out, bags in hand. "Bye, Mrs. Shapiro! Call me if you need someone to water your plants!" You said, waving to the wrinkly tortoise.

"Oh, goodbye dear. I'm gonna miss you. Oh! Drop by Erin's on your way out!" The tortoise Yokai, Mrs. Shapiro, waved a long clawed hand at the you.

You nod with a smile and shut the door behind you. Heading down the street, you waved to friendly Yokai and mutants that walked past. After seeing the street clear a bit, you pulled your phone and headphones out of your pocket. Popping in the earbuds, you played your favorite playlist you found on Spotify. It was titled, 'Jammy Jams', the description being 'Songs for elite music listeners'. The playlist and many more like it, all with a theme of some sort, Studying, Building, (crime fighting?) Jogging, all came from one account by the name of Othello.

As you scrolled through the playlist, you saw the little notification. 'Othello is listening to Weird Science'. With a shrug, you tapped the notification, the song blasting through your headphones as you matched where Othello was in the song. Definitely an oldie, but it fit him...or her...or them—it fit the vibe! As you continued scrolling, adding some of the songs to your own playlists, you didn't hear the three voices yelling nor the shocked gasps of the onlookers that quickly moved out of the way.

A sudden PUSH and you were on the ground, groaning next to a stranger as Technologic blasted through your headphones.

"C'mon, Dee! He's getting away!" A turtle Yokai with dark hair in a half up, half down bun, ran in place and pointed to the direction that they needed to go. He wore an orange mask, had stickers and paint all over his shell, and in his hands sat a Kusari-fundo.

"No, no, I'm fine, Michael." The turtle Yokai next to you, (Dee?), stood up so suddenly, you thought he teleported. He wore a purple mask that wrapped around his head, his-tech goggles sitting on top. On his arms were multiple hi-tech screens and buttons that wrapped around his arms on large bands. Looking on the ground, he spotted his phone and your own, both faced down. He quickly swiped one up, and tucked it in his pocket, "May this be a lesson never to text while running!" The turtle pointed up at the sky almost heroically.

"You crashed into me!" You said defensively.

The turtle Yokai made a noise of surprise and looked down at you, as if suddenly noticing you for the first time. "I was actually referring to me." He muttered, coughing awkwardly. Without warning, two metal arms came out of his...shell? It had to be a shell, right? But it was more purple and armor like. The cold metal of the arms shook you out of your thoughts as they lifted you onto your feet.

"Oh, uh, thanks." You said, now just as awkward as the Yokai in front of you. "Don't you have to—" you pointed your thumb behind you, where the other turtle was freaking out.

"Donnie!" The orange clad turtle whined.

"Right." With a bit of showmanship, the purple clad turtle picked up your unlocked phone off the ground and handed it to you. As you took it, you noticed how he made sure your fingers did not touch. "Adieu, madam." He gave a slight bow and left, joining his accomplice in their efforts.

You giggled as he left, the whole interaction being odd. You looked down at your phone, the screen dimming. You tapped it to ensure it stayed unlocked and reopened Spotify...except, why were the apps in a different format? And your headphones were cutting out, and the background is different, and...what's the use? You know the truth, you switched your phone.

[mikareo]

⌗ SEASONS OF LOVE ₊ ˖ ་. a 呪術廻戦 miniseries

“ ࣭⸰ ★ SERIAL ROMANTIC ; gojo satoru x fem reader ⠀ ꒰ . . episode three ! ꒱ . . . word count; 1.1k ⠀ ⠀ ᯇ lost confessions, missed connections

⊹ ⠀⠀ gojo's halloween costume is ryan gosling's sebastian; though he should've dressed up as a lovesick, idiotic clown.

contains; gojo x fem reader, university (year 2) au, angst, fluff, gojo's a dick, swearing, best friends to lovers, love triangle

⋆⋆⋆⠀ ⠀pm or send ask to join/be removed from taglist,, ⋆⋆⋆⠀ ⠀link to miniseries masterlist

so much has changed in the past two and a half months that gojo can't even begin to comprehend it all.

firstly, you're practically an entirely new person. how did that happen? rather than him devouring every word in your conversations, you're actually keeping up now; and your funny. you're really funny. he never knew that, and it's definitely a pleasant surprise to discover. you're also so confident. before the school year began, you could be compared to a mouse staring at rat poison— so timid and shy, without any means to argue with him or introduce yourself to his other friends, but now you do both with no signs of nerves or anxiety. it's no wonder that all eyes were on you tonight. with your bright yellow dress and pink lipstick, you looked gorgeous; something out of a hollywood film. luckily for him, as the ryan gosling to your emma stone, no guys dared to approach you with his arm wrapped around your waist for a whole three hours.

he likes this new you. he doesn't understand why, but there's just something about you that ticks his boxes. something that appeared out of nowhere and he can't seem to ignore. why? he's not used to feeling this way and he hates it. he fucking hates it.

"tonight was really fun." there's a soft smile on your face as you're looking through the windshield. he's just pulled up to your dorm building, and the familiar sight appears to be comforting to you. "thanks for bringing me."

he did do that didn't he?

"yeah, no problem." his answer is tame as his thoughts run wild.

it's not uncommon for him to invite you to parties, though he used to force you to accompany him and sit in the corner while he made out with as many girls as he found hot; but tonight was the first time you agreed to come to this particular party. aka the halloween party to top all other lame and sorry excuses for a social gathering. originally, he used to ask you to come because geto was always so busy with schoolwork and studying— making it very clear that you were always his second option— now, he personally asked you without approaching his male best friend first. "sorry about those guys, earlier. they were just messing with me."

you smile. "it's okay, as long is it didn't bother you."

it did bother him, though.

with the relentless remarks from his classmates, gojo hears their words echoing in his ears. so you finally found yourself a real girlfriend! no, he didn't. wow, the great satoru gojo got himself pinned down! as if. of all the girls you could pick, you picked her? i would've wanted loads of others before landing on this one. what the fuck kind of question was that?

he's not exactly ashamed to be seen with you. he knows he doesn't want other men giving you attention, yet at the same time he can't help but want to keep his reputation high. who is gojo satoru without his playboy status? he's just a man. there's nothing too special about him other than his handsome looks, and he can't seem to be able to let go of his ego just yet; no matter how devastated the lovesick look in your eyes is making him feel.

"why're you staring at me?" his voice is shaking with nerves, anxiety pumping through his blood at a rapid pace.

"i just love the way your hair falls over your eyes." oh no. "i get little glimpses of blue every time you breathe."

please. please don't confess.

"sometimes when i look at you, i feel myself floating in some type of way. i don't really know how to describe it, but i've always felt it. it's like i've been in love with you since i first met you. which, to be honest, is definitely true. the reason i haven't considered anyone else on campus is because a part of me is waiting for you to feel the same way— and it's been really hard with all of the other girls you spend time with, but you also give me so much attention that it makes me feel special."

your words are so beautiful. so soft. gojo understands this 'floating' feeling you speak of. he's being lifted away by it. his heads is in the clouds, touching the sky, and wishing on shooting stars that this relationship will work. his heart wants this to work so badly; but his mind disagrees. no. it's not his mind that disagrees...

...it's his narcissism.

"i love you, satoru. i always have."

he wants to love you, too...

...but he can't.

"i think you got the wrong idea." he tries to laugh off your confession, avoiding eye contact so he doesn't need to see your heart breaking in real time. "this was all just a bit of fun tonight, the costume and everything. i didn't know you'd assume i liked you."

he knows he's being an asshole.

"you've taken it all too seriously, really. i didn't think of it like a couple outing or a date. it's just a party."

he knows he should stop and apologize.

"i don't love you like that. i never have."

finally, he looks over to you. you're staring straight at him with tears struggling not to fall and sniffling softly. if gojo could read minds, he knows that you're at war with yourself; trying to decide whether to give up on him or give him another chance. in an ideal world, he'd deserve another chance. no, scratch that. in an ideal world, he would've accepted your confession. he would've leaned over the armrest and kissed you with all of the passion he's been holding back. you would've smiled while kissing him, fighting to contain giggles of glee, and running your fingers through his hair that you love so much. gojo would've admitted that the other girls were just a distraction so he could ignore his burning feelings for you; and that all this time, he's been scared— too scared of losing you, his best friend, to confess.

but that isn't how this scenario played out.

instead, you're muttering a million apologies and sobbing quietly in the passenger seat of his car, while he looks at you with nothing but pity. gojo satoru doesn't understand how to love. he doesn't understand that in order to love, one needs to set aside their own heart, and make space for another. he's not ready to make that commitment, and it's almost laughably obvious that your friendship is over.

"i'll see you around, satoru." your hand unlocks the door. your feet landing on the pavement as you hop out of the vehicle. your figure fleeting into the shadows of the night...

...his heart fleeting with you.

⋆⋆⋆⠀ ⠀pm or send ask to join/be removed from taglist,, ⋆⋆⋆⠀ ⠀link to miniseries masterlist

⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⊹₊｡ reblogs are greatly appreciated! ˚₊⊹

[missusdunn]

Bam Margera X f!reader X Ryan Dunn pt.1

Warnings!! - Smut, Oral f!giving, cussing, 18++++

Dating Bam Margera threw you into a lot of spontaneous adventures. The parties, impulsive trips across the world, dangerous stunts. It became normal to expect the unexpected. The only predictable thing about Bam was his selfishness especially when it came to you. You are his and his only. You couldn’t even have a friendly conversation with another man without Bam going into a bitch fit. However, there is one exception. Ryan Dunn. They’re a two-in-one deal. You can’t get close to one without the other. And Bam trusts Ryan so no reason for jealousy. Just a trio of pals.

One night, Ryan invites the two of you to his apartment to drink and hang out. Anticlimactic but fun nonetheless. You and Bam head over there with a bottle of vodka and let yourselves in. “Oh hey, you two! Thanks for knocking, so considerate!” Ryan greeted. Bam chuckles and says “Don’t act like you don’t walk into my house like that, asswipe.” “Whatever,” Ryan grabs the vodka from Bam “this’ll make up for it.” I roll my eyes, kick off my shoes, and make my way to the couch. Bam follows suit and Ryan goes to the kitchen to get cups. Bam stretches and melts into his seat. “Finally a night to relax with my two favorite people.” He smiles and puts his arm over my shoulder. I playfully roll my eyes “Don’t be sappy just to get into my pants later.” He sarcastically puts his hands up “Sorry, sorry.” He smirks. “I have better tactics anyway.” He cups my face with his right hand and leans in for a kiss. Of course, I kiss back and it doesn’t take long until his tongue is in my mouth. After a few more seconds Ryan is back. “Excuse me but I’d appreciate it if you two didn’t fuck on my couch!” He says playfully. “We’re not fucking, Dunn,” Bam grumbles with a slight pout having cut the make-out short. “Yet. Thank god I stopped it just in time.” Ryan says placing cups on the coffee table. I laugh and pick up my glass to fill with liquor. Ryan stops me from picking up the bottle and pours it for me. “Oh, such a gentleman,” I say sarcastically while taking a sip. “Anything for you, darling.” He playfully winks filling up the other two glasses. “You fuckers know I’m right here right?” Bam rolls his eyes as Ryan and I laugh. Bam grabs the remote and tosses it to Ryan. “Put some shit on, Dunn let’s get fucked up.” As he chugs his first round.

A couple hours later we’re all buzzed. It didn’t take long for the TV to become background noise. After multiple conversations filled with slurs and giggles the topic of Ryan’s love life came up.

“You really haven’t been getting any lately?” Bam laughs. “Dude it’s not a big deal!” Ryan defends himself. “I’ve just been busy!” Bam continues to laugh “Yeah you’re so busy binge drinking on your couch!” Ryan’s brows furrow “fuck you.” I hit Bam on the shoulder and give Ryan a sympathetic look. “Ry, there’s no shame in not having sex! Not everyone can be sexually active twenty-four seven.” I say “Unlike some whores…” I motion to Bam. Ryan lets out a chuckle and Bam rolls his eyes. “If I’m a whore that would make you one too, idiot,” Bam argues. “Oh babe you and I both know that’s not how it works,” I sigh “Your body count is 10x times mine!” “Whatever since you’re fucking me you’re a whore by association.” He snickers. “You’re such an idiot.” I sip my drink. Bam smirks and leans in. “Your idiot.” Kissing me and turning it into a full-on make-out session in less than ten seconds. That’s gotta be a record.

Ryan groans. “Again please do that anywhere else.” Bam pulls away and looks at his friend. “Yknow what just fucking join, Dunn.” Ryan’s eyes go wide and I’m too shocked to say anything. “What?” Ryan asks, thinking it’s a joke. “It’ll help with your blue balls that make you so pissy,” bam smirks “and I know how long you’ve wanted to fuck y/n.” Ryan keeps his eyes on Bam with red coating his cheeks. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Bam chuckles “Yes you do!” He points out “Before we started dating you, I would talk about all the things we’d do to her!” Now I’m the one with cherry-red cheeks. “Come on, Dunn you down or not?” Bam looks at me as if he’s asking with his eyes. “I’m down if Ryan’s down…” I stumbled out. Bam looks back at Ryan “Alright, let’s do it then.” Ryan agrees. Bam smirks in satisfaction and motions Ryan to sit next to me. Now I'm in the middle. Bam goes for my neck kissing and sucking. While I’m left looking into his friend’s eyes. Ryan hesitated a little bit but then kissed me like it was the end of the world. My throat vibrated with moans and Bam’s hands made their way to my chest. Groping me through my top before pulling it over my chest to expose my tits. I gasped into Ryan’s mouth from the sudden movements. Ryan pulls back to look at my breasts, groaning at the sight. He pushes Bam’s hands away and replaces them with his own. Bam immediately starts to kiss me sloppily. As Ryan has begun sucking on my tits making sure both nipples get the same amount of attention. My moans gradually increase the hotter it gets. I push both the boys away from me. They give me a confused and concerned look. Before they could say anything I got down on my knees in front of them. Their eyes widened in realization before slightly scooting closer together so they weren't too far apart. I began to palm them through their jeans, both of them already hard. “I need you both now,” I whine. Immediately the two start fumbling with their belts whipping their dicks out.

I spit onto both of my hands and begin to jerk my boyfriend and his best friend off. Bam’s groaning and Ryan has his eyes closed letting out breathy moans. I wrap my mouth around Bam’s dick and begin to deep throat him. Trying to get his cock covered in as much saliva as possible. As my left hand continues to stroke Ryan’s Bam grabs my hair and pushes me down on his length a bit more. Groaning when he reaches the back of my throat. I push back off his lap and replace my mouth with my hand. I shift my attention to Ryan and I start to suck the tip of his cock, swirling my tongue around it. And jerking off his shaft twisting up and down. Ryan’s heavily breathing with his eyes locked on mine. I continue to switch between the two men with my mouth, whilst jerking the other one off. Bam’s moans get louder letting me know that he's close. I have a hand on each of the men's shafts. I begin to firmly stroke Bam, twisting up and down. My tongue hovers over his tip waiting for his cum. With a final groan, Bam shoots his load onto my face. From the lewd image of my face covered in cum Ryan finishes in my hand. “Shit.” Ryan curses. I move my face towards my cum-covered hand and clean it up with my tongue. Both boys catch their breaths before sharing a chuckle. “I can’t believe we just fucking did that.” Ryan laughs. “I remove my hands from them, cleaning myself up with a nearby throw blanket. “Consider it an early Christmas present.” Bam continues. “You may wanna wash this…” I smirk, tossing the soiled blanket at Ryan. The two laugh as I get up to go to the bathroom. Until Bam interrupts my movements “Hey, where are you going? It’s your turn.”

[gavisuntiedboot]

Just Pretend (Gavi x reader)

Part 7

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Epilogue

Warnings: oh boy okay so Angst! profanity! Violence! Mentions of blood! Injury! Abusive-ish behavior!!! MARTIN!!!!!! Ferran! Blackmail!! Just shitty behavior!!!! pls don't read if you're not comfortable!

Word Count: 14.1k (fun fact! If you've read all 7 parts, you've read 87 pages single space!)

A/N: Guys this is one of the chapters I had planned out from the beginning. I really have poured a lot of my own soul into this, so I hope y'all enjoy! I'm actually so ready to read the reactions to this one lol. GIF by @rubendiasatl

You thought you had met the love of your life in college. He appeared to be perfect. He was the captain of the swim team, rumored to get a national championship that year in the 100m freestyle. He was the secretary of Phi Pi Delta, the largest business fraternity in the region, set to work on Wall Street making $200k right after graduation. You two were the perfect couple: Ryan, with his perfect hair and perfect smile, the sexy, sporty Spanish girl on his arm. You were conquering medicine as he ruled the world of finance. Sometimes on your walk to class, you would daydream about what your wedding would look like.

You did everything that was required of you as "Ryan's girl". You were an academic badass, but in a completely different field, so he could have a smart girl that would never be his competition. You worked as a sports manager, showing that "Ryan's girl" was a powerhouse on her own that commanded respect, but turned into a shy little lamb around her man. You worked hard and played harder, going to every PPD event and mixer. You always drank to show people that you weren't a prude, but you were never the girl hunched over the toilet losing her innards. You were good at beer pong, but only when Ryan was your partner. You played 7 minutes in heaven, but were so cold and intimidating that everyone left with blue balls and a muttering of "what a bitch". For 8 months of your senior year, you were "Ryan's girl", and you were the absolute best at playing the part.

It was a tiring job, but one you balanced with all your other actions. You learned how to get him and his friends basketball tickets mere hours before tipoff. You were an expert at covering hickies, but also enhancing them when he wanted to prove to the guys at a rival frat that he wasn’t soft. You killed your complaints and your gag reflex, knees growing used to the rough carpet of the frat house. You never asked for his location, and never made a face when other girls talked about how much they wanted your man. You never bored him with talks of your futures after graduation. You were perfect.

You looked perfect the day you walked into the frat house, hair pulled back in a slick ponytail to show off the piercings in your ear and the tightness of your polo shirt. Your khakis hugged your thighs, Jordan’s pristine as you slipped them off before heading upstairs. The basketball team had offered you a full time position; you could stay for the next several years if you so chose. Everything was perfect. The sky was the perfect shade of blue. The air was the perfect temperature with a perfect breeze. And as you opened the door to your boyfriend’s room, you saw a bare figure on top of him, connected at their cores, with her mouth shaped in a perfect “O”. And one perfect tear ran down your cheek as you silently walked back down the stairs, ignoring the yells about it not being what it looked like, and left Ryan behind forever.

You hadn’t thought about Ryan in years. But his memory came back to you as you pulled up to Martin’s house and found his car parked out in front of his door instead of it’s usual place in the garage. The Benz stared back at you, looking so different from that first date. It had been bright and welcoming and joyous that very first time it rolled up in front of your building. Now it was different, the blue taking on a more hue, feeling ominous and serious. It was the color of midnight - the color of fear. Why was the precious Benz parked out front? Martin wouldn't even let some valets park his car for fear of it getting scratched. His tires were still turned. The Benz was crooked in the driveway.

You walked up to the door, and you thought about Ryan again. You thought about the countless texts he sent you afterwards, telling you how much he loved you and how he would never do it again. And you read every single one, waiting with baited breath for him to say what you needed to hear: that he regretted it. That he had made a terrible mistake when he was out of his mind and he hated every second. But it never came. He wanted you, but he never regretted that moment with her. He never felt remorse about the moment he decided she was more important than you were. It didn't make you sad or angry - just empty. It was like a hold had been carved out, and it was another reminder that it would never be filled. You would never be the first choice. You would never be that girl that was above it all. You would always be a pretty good girl that needed to be supplemented by someone else.

The hole within you had not been filled, but it started to be covered by some good people in your lives. Your friends at your physiology program made you always feel competent and capable in what you were doing in school. Angelika and your other university friends gave you comfort, covering the emptiness with warm feelings. And now, you had the boys at Barca had worked to cover that hole with positive affirmations, reminding you that you were just as much a part of the team and how much you were valued. And there was a bit of the hole that started to close, one centimeter at a time, every time you looked at your phone and saw that Gavi was checking up on you.

You felt that hole fill with butterflies as you wrote out your Christmas card to him. You hadn't wanted it to come across as cheesy or desperate, despite you reassuring yourself that you couldn't be desperate if you were in a relationship. You had begged the media team for any photo of you and Gavi, knowing how much the sentiment would mean to him. One thing you had noticed during your two brief appearances in Pablo's home was his appreciation for the few pictures he had. They were taped to the wall beside the door: photos from his youth at his La Masia matches, his family on vacation, and a polaroid with a few of the Barca boys. A part of you hoped you would make it onto the wall.

But with each knock on Martin's door that went unanswered, the butterflies disintegrated, filling you with smoke and ash and bile, the hole in your very soul aching. As you turned the doorknob, you felt it give way easily - the door was unlocked. He had come home, car parked haphazardly, with the door remaining unlocked. You braced yourself, not exactly sure for what, and entered the house.

You should have seen it coming. You should have known from his demeanor and the way he spoke to you when you were with him versus when you were away. You should have listened to the whispers on the internet and in the locker room. But you ignored it all, believing that people were inherently good and caring. And now your naivety had all culminated and led to this moment: you standing in Martin's entryway, staring at his hideous brown couch, a trail of clothes leading from your feet to the naked girl perched on the dark fabric. The two of you locked eyes, and her mouth dropped agape. She grabbed the closest piece of fabric to cover her bare form, her pale cheeks turning scarlet from embarrassment.

"Bonita, hurry up so I can call my girl-"

Martin's eyes locked with yours, stopping dead in his tracks and freezing as his girl on the couch did. You waited for either of them to speak. With baited breath you waited for the feminine screams of "you have a girlfriend?" and the begs to provide an explanation. But the air was heavy with nothing but guilt and the disappointment of being caught. As your breath grew heavier, the nausea settled into your stomach. You tried to muster a tear, deciding it would be less embarrassing to cry than to throw up on the tile.

"Bonita, it's not what it looks like. If we could just talk-"

"How are you going to use the same pet name for the both of us?" You asked, patience finally snapping. The emotions from the last four months came flooding through, boiling the blood in your veins. You had cut yourself up and torn your very being apart to please this man. The things you wore and said and did and ate and enjoyed were all altered to fit his impossible standard. You were playing a part again. You had sacrificed so much of yourself for one crumb of affection and security, and once again you weren't enough.

"Just calm down an let me explain."

You tried with every fiber of your being to keep the tears at bay - you didn't want to give him the satisfaction of knowing how much he hurt you.

"All I ever did was try and be a good girlfriend. Do you realize that? Through the stupid dinner dates and your rants about football, I tried to be patient and fun and understanding. I never complained, not once, about your lack of support or how everything you did made it clear you didn't like me. I dealt with all of your cold fronts, your unfounded jealous, your below mediocre sex - all of it, because that's what you do when you're in a fucking relationship until someone finally cuts the cord and frees you both. But you didn't have the decency to pretend." You spat the words out at him, no longer caring about if you cried.

"The least you could do was not fuck anyone else in the house that you asked me to move in to."

Everyone on the room had gone silent, from Martin to his mistress. How could he retaliate? Where could he start? The flood gates had been opened, and the realization of how much this man made you hate your life was flowing freely.

"Goodbye Martin." You turned and walked out the door, your keys in hand, ready to go home and lose consciousness. Tomorrow you would wake up and be as you were - single and free of the burden this relationship placed on you.

"Come back here." You heard Martin's voice shout behind you, before a hand reached out and grabbed you by the wrist, ripping your keys from your hands, cutting your palm in the process. As the red fluid pooled in your palm, you looked up at Martin in shock and fear. He looked back at you, then at your outstretched hand still pooling with blood.

"Shit, I'm- I didn't mean to do that. But you can't just drive away until you let me speak. I won't let you."

"As if you're allowed to decide what I can and can't do. Give me back my keys before I call the police."

"You're not calling anyone or doing anything until I speak to you." Martin said, lunging at you and grabbing the sleeve of your shirt. You cried out and struggled against him as he tried to pull you towards the house, hoping to prevent a scene in front of the neighbors. Martin's side piece stood at the door, now fully clothed, watching silently as the two of you struggled by the entryway.

"Get off of me you cheating sack of shit! I don't want to hear anything you have to say, let me go!" His grip loosened as you pulled away, unable to restrain you with both hands for fear you would take your car keys back.

"Bonita, I'm not trying to hurt you, I love you and I-"

"Bullshit! And stop calling me fucking bonita." You tried to reach for your keys again, but Martin's hand came and wrapped tightly around the collar of your shirt.

"No. You don't get to abandon me without hearing what I have to say. All I have ever done is try and look past how difficult you are to love and be around," his grip tightened on your collar, the fabric now bunching to restrict your airway slightly. "And now that I've made one mistake you think you get to just run? You're not going anywhere until I say you can. If you know what's good for you, you'll just listen."

The bile started to rise in your throat as your heart beat faster. For the first time in your life, you really felt like you were in danger. The sting of your palm was hard to ignore now, the blood nestling into the lines on your palm, dots littered across your pant leg. Once you felt Martin's grip loosen lightly, you put all your weight behind you and shoved him as hard as you could, causing him to fall backwards. You bolted for the door, keys forgotten as you ran at a speed you didn't know you were capable of.

The fall did not deter him for long, as you heard your name in Martin's deep, agitated voice carry to your ears on the night air, accompanied by heavy, fast footsteps. You were being chased. Heart racing, your feet slammed against the pavement, trying to put as much space between the two of you as possible. Your throat started to tighten with anxiety, fight or flight now in full control. You didn't even know where you were going. You took whatever turn felt natural, willing yourself not to turn around.

Martin realized with every step he took that it was too late to turn back. There was now street camera of him chasing you shirtless through the streets of a Barcelona neighborhood. He wasn't even sure why he had done it. By it he meant the chasing - not the sleeping with other women. That part was quite simple. He was 24 now, and it was time he was photographed with the same girl more than once. His club going days had become the topic of every family dinner and every call with his mother.

"Martin, when are you going to stop going to the club every night and actually bring us a nice girl? You're ruining your reputation by taking all these different girls home."

He was nothing if not a boy that wanted to make his mother happy. When he say Angelika in the club that day, he sensed he had been getting close. She was funny and outgoing and actually had a job that didn't involve her sponsoring Bang energy on the internet. But she was still at the club on a Tuesday night, and had flirted her way into the VIP section. Too high maintenance. But then as he left the club, pretty young drunk thing slung over his arm, he got to see you.

Initially, you didn't make a huge impression. Boring looking and kind of loud - not the girl he would usually go for. He was still a little hazy from the club air, sweat and tequila still lingering in his lungs. He had just handed Angelika off to you, before he took a look at the back of your car. A few stickers were there, displaying the name of your universities, and a bright blue one that read 'ask me about ACL tears!'. It sparked his interest - not only that you could afford the car, but that you were obviously decently intelligent to be touting all these universities. It prompted Martin to ask for your number, just as a backup in case finding a "good girl" was harder than he thought.

It was, in fact, much harder than he thought to find a girl to bring home to his mother. All the smart girls tended not to give him the time of day, either taken or too busy. Pretty girl were too expensive and high strung - not what he needed. And those sweet girls that he found at the supermarket and the park? Most of them were ready to live the football WAG life, wanting to go public with him immediately. If there's one thing Martin was sure of, it was that he wasn't ready too commit to just one screw for any period of time. He had a rotation of girls in and out of his bed, shower, car - he couldn't just cut all of them off.

That's exactly what was on his mind when he saw Angelika in line for the club again. She was cute enough to take home that night, but girls usually didn't open up without some conversation. He can't remember how the topic turned to you, but Angelika gushed about how much she adored you.

"But she's just so busy. She's always so focused on work that she doesn't have much time to even process what's going on around her."

Getting you was quite easy after that. He had listened to girls long enough to understand how to keep them happy. It was the lack of instant sex that really hurt his pride. This was not the 1940s - he was not going to wait 3 months, taking a girl out and showering her with love, just to get some pussy. He would just supplement with other women. Ferran was often the person that would help him get girls, as they usually recognized the young Barca bench boy before they realized who Martin was. So they worked as a team: Martin supplying money and alcohol, and Ferran supplying girls.

It was when Gavi started to enter the picture that he, for the first time in his life, felt the angry weeds of jealousy take root in his throat. No matter what he did behind closed doors, you were his, not Gavi's, and it would be a cold day in hell before he let a love-sick teenager take his girl. Now he was chasing you down the street, 10 days before he planned to introduce you to his mother at Christmas, willing all the neighbors to stay away from the windows and ignore the eventual screams they heard from the street.

Your eyes focused, the adrenaline fog leaving your brain as you wildly scanned the street: this was Gavi's neighborhood. Identifying the houses, you made a sharp right turn and ran towards his house at end of the street. You prayed that he was still awake as you got to the door, banging as hard as you could, and yelling out his name.

"Pablo! Let me in! Get the fuck away from me!"

You watched as Martin slowed down, walking towards you cautiously with his hands in the air. He moved his lips to say something, but your heartbeat was in your ears, tears streaming down your face as you kept banging on the door. The slit across your palm seared with pain, and every pang circulated more fear through you. Martin was capable and willing to hurt you.

The door opened, and you caught a glimpse of Gavi's face. That was enough reassurance for your legs to give out from the effort, sobs still shaking your entire being as you fell into his chest. Your palms grabbed at his shirt, needing anything to ground you in reality. Gavi was not a large boy; Martin had 5 inches and 6 years on Gavi, which would make any betting man wary of the outcome if a fight were to break out. But none of that mattered to you. Gavi's arms were around you, holding you up and against him, and you felt safe.

Gavi tore his eyes away from Martin, who was shirtless and frozen in his walkway, to look at you. As he pulled you away from his chest slowly, he felt a warm wet spot spread across his shirt. It was too large to be tears. He wished he hadn't looked down to see the red spot darkening his t-shirt. Grabbing your wrists, he looked at the jagged cut on the skin there, still bleeding freely. Gavi hugged you closer into his chest, one hand around your waist and one by your head, hiding you in his shoulder as you continued to cry.

"What did he do?" He asked, voice tight and strained. You shook your head, crying harder, trying to gulp down any air to stop the light-headedness. You could not see or think straight, the questions too overwhelming.

"Pablito, just let me talk to my girl, and go back inside." Martin instructed, walking towards the two of you slowly, as a hunter would approach a deer. You clung onto Gavi tighter, a shrill 'No!' yelped against his skin, sobs coming back in full force. Gavi couldn't stand it. The blood in his veins grew hotter the longer he held your fragile form. He was quick to anger, but this was different. You had run to his house crying and bleeding because of the vile man you had been dating. On an average day, he was ready to go to blows because of a stray leg in a football match. This was more serious - more sinister. He had hurt you in ways Gavi couldn't fathom a man hurting any woman, let alone you. He turned over the idea of manslaughter in his head as he tried again.

"Please, y/n. Please tell me what he did. Because at this rate, I'm going to kill him. Y/n, please."

Gulping down breath after desperate breath, you muttered out what had happened to Gavi in the best way you could. You knew there was nothing you could say to get Gavi to just walk away, but you couldn't stand the idea of Pablo doing irreparable damage to his future on your behalf.

"Found him... cheating... took my... k-keys.. that's why m-my hand. But I'm-"

"Don't you dare tell me you're okay." Gavi put you down on the ground, resting your back against the wall before he stood. The edges of his vision were dark and red, and in that moment he swore he could have killed Martin with his bare hands. When would this man have taken enough? Martin had snatched you off the market, keeping you hostage in a crumbling, decaying relationship while Gavi fawned over you. Martin chipped away at you soul, dimming the once radiant light that enamored those you encountered. Martin made you insecure and self-hating, all while keeping a line of girls wrapped around his bedroom to fool around with as you chased your dreams. Martin had taken everything Gavi had loved about you and poisoned it, leaving the ashes of a bright young woman in his path. Now he would pay for it.

"Martin, give me her keys and get the fuck away from my property before I make your mother regret the day she lost her virginity." Gavi was seething, You looked up at his squared shoulders and tight face, and couldn't tell if the wisps of smoke emanating from him were real or not. You wanted to stand, block the warpath Pablo was on, and prevent the violence you knew was about to ensue, but your head and eyes felt heavy, keeping you firmly planted to the ground.

"Ay, Pablito, no need to be vulgar. Don't you think it's silly for you to be involving yourself in a little lover's quarrel at this time? Go inside and let me take care of my girlfriend." Martin took a step with every word he said, now less than a meter from Gavi, whose fists were curled and strained.

"Lover's quarrel? She's bleeding and had to run from you screaming. You've stolen her keys and now you want me to let you harass her further? Give me her keys and fuck off, before my patience runs out. Because I've been eager to bash your skull for weeks now."

Martin took another step forward, now on the same plane as you and Gavi. He locked Pablo's vision as he pulled your keys from his pocket, tossing them at your feet. You flinched at the noise scared to look up at Martin. Just the sound of his voice sent ripples through you.

"There, bonita. You have your keys back. Now enough of this nonsense and come with me." A fist curled into your hair and pulled you upwards, causing a scream to release from your throat. Gavi watched all of this happen in slow motion. He took two steps towards Martin, vision now fully red, and connected his closed fist with Martin's lower jaw. The accompanying CRACK could probably have been heard all the way in Madrid. The grip had disappeared from your head, and you used your last bit of strength to push yourself from the floor and run into Gavi's house, keys firmly in your grasp for protection. You peered through the window, catching Martin spit out a large glob of blood, more crimson dripping from his mouth like a dog drooling.

Martin wasn't provided much more time to recover as Gavi grabbed his collar, pulling him in once again, and again cracking him hard right beneath his eye socket. The delicate skin there split, and more blood oozed from Martin. It didn't bring Gavi disgust or joy. There was no space in his entire being to feel anything other than the need to protect you. Moving his grasp from Martin's collar to his hair, he hit him one final time, a bone split and a scream polluting the otherwise silent air of the Barcelona night. You thought to yourself, rather ironically, if the naked girl in his living room knew how to set a broken nose. Pablo pushed Martin to the ground, the older landing on his face sprawled across the concrete of the pavement.

"If you get up and you're not running, I'll break another bone."

Martin struggled to breath, the blood running away from his body in rivers, dripping onto the street.

"You little piece of shit! Just wait till I call the police! You'll be in jail until you're 70. You little cunt." Martin wailed, on his knees gripping his throbbing fractured nose. Gavi approached Martin, picking him up by the collar once again. It was quite a sight to behold: the younger and smaller boy lifting Martin off the ground, blood dripping from a broken nose on to Gavi's tensed forearm, as his hazel eyes conveyed murderous intent.

"In case the blood has already left your brain, allow me to remind you: the cameras saw you chasing a woman through the street. There is a decent amount of her blood on you and at your house. Everything from that moment on is self defense. And I can absolutely afford a better lawyer than you can, little boy. So best run and put some ice on that nose before you become more permanently deformed than you were originally." Martin was thrown to the pavement once again, cries of pain bouncing between the stone of the buildings. He picked himself off the ground, not daring to glance over his shoulder, as he hobbled back home.

Gavi took a deep breath, looking down at his hands in the light of the street lamp. It had been a long time since his anger was allowed to run wild. Usually there was a player (or 6) holding him back from blows. But that was football. Nothing was ever that serious in football. This was different. It was you. And as he entered his home, locking eyes with your huddled form by his couch, the thought appeared in his mind clear as crystal: you were someone he would kill for, and someone he would die for.

But now wasn't the time for such a confession. It was the time for Gavi to step up as your friend and provide you with comfort and support. He walked into the house and started to head for the bathroom before you called out to him.

"Pablo? Where are you going?" Your voice was small and fragile, like that of a scared child when the thunder got too loud. Keys still gripped tightly in shaky hands, you pushed yourself off the floor, and Gavi rushed to meet your stride, helping stabilize you as you stood. You were not close to fainting anymore, but the fear still pumped through you, making it harder to walk at more than a snail's pace. Eyes locking with Gavi's, you brought a hand up to rest on his bicep, squeezing it lightly to provide him with some reassurance that you were okay. Hand trailing down, you wrapped your fingers gently around his wrists, turning his hands over to look at his knuckles. The skin had cracked and burst from the impact against Martin's skull. Bruises bloomed on the high points, droplets of blood - owner unknown - littered his fingers and hand, the scarlet a contrast against his warm tan. As you ran a thumb over one of the open cuts, Gavi hissed, trying to pull away from your touch. You looked back up at him with tears welling in your eyes anew.

"You're hurt." You croaked out, not wanting to continue crying in front of him. He grabbed your hand, holding it against his as he rubbed over the drying cut through your palm.

"So are you. But we'll be okay." He smiled at you, and you could have sworn that there was an actual fist squeezing your heart in your chest. He pulled you towards the staircase with him.

"Come on, we need to wash our hands. You've taught me enough about infections to know we shouldn't wait much longer."

"I obviously haven't taught you enough, because for open cuts like this we need rubbing alcohol and hydrogen peroxide, not water."

Gavi stopped on the stairs, still gripping your wrist as his smile broke out, returning warmth to his face. Even when he had hit Martin, you hadn't feared Pablo. You knew the anger was residual, and he would never turn this harbored rage your direction. It had brought a few baby butterflies to your stomach, knowing that Gavi had thrown his tranquility and caution to the wind just to defend you. But this was the Pablo you liked the most: the one that smiled for you in a way that seemed to appear only when you were around.

"There you go, doctora. Putting that degree to use. I think I have a first aid kit in my room. The medics gave me one to keep after I got my second black eye." The statement, not meant as a joke, allowed a laugh to run through you, cutting through some of the lingering heaviness. You wondered if this experience would forever trauma-bond you to Gavi forever. But you knew subconsciously that Pablo was already bonded to you. You would never be able to look at the Barca crest or the dew on the grass or the chocolate milk in the store without thinking of Pablo. You would never be able to choose anyone else's contact at 2am to send a random text to, because you need Pablo to be the one to send the response. You knew in that moment that Pablo was going to be in your life forever.

Walking into his bedroom, Pablo peeled his blood-stained shirt off, tossing it onto the bed.

"You should..." Your sentence trailed off as Pablo faced you, shirtless with sweats hanging low on his hips, waistband of his boxers tight against the V of his torso. You had seen attractive men shirtless before, but something about it being Pablo, and the two of you being alone in his bedroom, made everything seem more charged and, for lack of a better term, sinful. He tiled his head in questioning, prompting you to finish your sentence. Clearing your throat, you looked at the shirt instead of Pablo and continued.

"You should put peroxide on that shirt now to get the blood out so it doesn't stain."

"I think getting some peroxide on your open wound is more important right now." He said, returning to his dresses to rummage around for his first aid kit. You stood awkwardly against the wall, unsure how to proceed. You didn't feel comfortable enough to sit on his bed, and though it would be weird to seat yourself on Gavi's floor. He turned back around, watching you scan the room and calculate if you should sit or stand.

"You're covered in blood." He said. You looked down at your shirt. You definitely had some splotches, but you wouldn't use the word covered.

"It's fine, I'll change when i get home..." You trailed off again. Your car was outside Martin's house, and there was no way you could possibly bring yourself to go back there tonight. Maybe Gavi would be kind enough to walk over with you in the dark.

"You're spending the night here. There's no way I'm going to let you be by yourself tonight. Let me get you something to change into." He said, moving past you towards the closet.

"Oh no, Pablo, it's fine. I should really go back to my place-"

"Why?" He asked, abruptly turning to face you. He walked towards you, and your heart rate picked up as he stood within your air space.

"Why do you need to go home? We are on international break for the season. I don't start training until next week. You just finished your finals, so you don't need to do anything tomorrow. And, more importantly, the only way to get to your house is to either go get your car from your psycho abusive ex and drive home at this time of night, which is not happening. Or for you to take a taxi home, which is also not happening. I'm not letting you out of my sight." He turned back to the closet, rummaging through his clothes before pulling out a pair of sweat pants and a La Masia t-shirt. Placing them in your hands, he turned back to his mission to find the first aid kit.

"The bathroom is through there. You can go and get changed and wash up. What's mine is yours."

Nodding, you shuffled towards the bathroom. The door was quickly shut and locked behind you, and you stared at yourself in the mirror. You definitely looked worse for wear, mascara smudged under your eyes, which were red and puffy from sobbing. You washed your face with your non-injured hand, thanking Pablo silently for owning a decent face wash. As you stripped off your dirty clothes, you couldn't help the images that flashed in your mind, and the thoughts that seeped through your subconscious. You remembered the daydreams you had for several weeks, bursts of his eyes and lips and hands, and thoughts of all the ways they could touch you. Your cheeks burned as you grabbed a washcloth, running cool water onto your skin to remove the sweat and grime lingering. You thought of that day on the couch, when you had finally entertained the idea of seeing Pablo in a sexually attractive light. Bumps raised onto your skin as you fully wrapped your head around the situation. You were in your underwear in Gavi's bedroom, only a bathroom door separating the two of you.

A part of you wanted to open the door - to present yourself to Pablo, physically and emotionally bare, and tell him your feelings. But what were your feelings? You felt safe with Pablo, supported, and able to be your authentic self. Was this a friendship that you had over committed to? Was Pablo treating you any differently to how he would treat Pedri or one of the boys? You pushed those feelings aside, slipping on his clothes, breathing the scent of his detergent in deeply. You took one last glance in the mirror, reminding yourself that you had a tendency to spontaneously combust when it came to relationships, and you wouldn't allow yourself to do that with Pablo. He was going to be in your life for a long time - you wouldn't accept anything otherwise - but maybe the role he was meant to fill was that of a close friend and never more.

You walked out and saw Pablo rubbing his bare chest with an alcohol pad, cleaning the excess blood from his chest. He had changed into some clean shorts, and turned to face you when he heard the door. His eyes scanned you from top to bottom, taking in the sight. His shirt hung off your shoulders slightly, draped over your frame and covering your form in worn cotton fabric. His sweats hugged your hips, sliding precariously low on your torso and lose in the thighs, just small enough for them to not pool at your ankles. Gavi's mouth went dry as he stared at you. You crossed your arms over your chest, covering yourself with your folded dirty clothes. Gavi caught a glimpse of your bra in the pile. He had no moisture in his mouth whatsoever.

"What are you staring at, Gavi? Close your mouth you'll catch a fly." You said, trying to come across cool and unbothered despite the situation. He swallowed hard, trying to form a single sentence.

"They fit. I'm surprised." That was all he could muster.

"Me too. I thought everything would be too short on me." You teased, and he rolled his eyes.

"Low blow, doctora. come help me with these bandages."

He sat on the floor with the first aid kit, and you joined him on the soft rug, protecting from the chill of the tile in December. You grabbed the different solutions and began cleaning his hands. His hands were rough and calloused to the touch, and you made a mental note to get him some lotion as a late Christmas gift. You moved slowly over each knuckle, cleaning the blood and bruises, gently moving your fingers across Pablo's skin. You heard gentle hisses at the burning sensation from the alcohol, but he kept his protests to a minimum as you worked.

It was easy for Gavi to distract himself from the pain when you were the one sitting in front of him. The burn of his hands was basically forgotten as he traced the curves of your face with his eyes. That familiar look of concentration settled into your features, warming Gavi's heart. You were coming back, in short bursts and fleeting moments, but everything he loved about you was still there. Try as he did, he could not prevent his eyes from moving lower, settling on his shirt draped over you. It was one of his most well-loved shirts - the one that he had gotten when he began playing for La Masia's senior team. This is when he started to bulk up, biceps and pecs stretching out the shirt, creating the baggy look he currently saw on you. The colors had faded from dozens of washes, and it was now pilling and threadbare - really something that should never see the light of day.

But here you were wearing it, and suddenly there was no article of clothing that had ever made a woman look sexier. The baggy fabric moved with you, and when you turned behind you to gram more gauze, it tightened against your bare chest, and Gavi willed himself not to focus on it. He couldn't - not right now. No matter how much he tried to rationalize it, he couldn't describe what about it made the shirt look so good on you. It was just the fact that it was his shirt. You were in his house, in his bedroom, wearing his shirt. You were merging with his space, and in a way, becoming a part of his home. It was the closest you had ever been to being his.

You finished bandaging his hands, looking at your work, and making sure that everything was secure so he wouldn't lose the dressings in his sleep. Engrossed in the moment, you leaned down and kissed the top of Gavi's knuckles, pulling back before realizing what you did. You both stared at each other, mutually deciding it was best not to comment on what just occurred. You quickly cleaned and dressed your own cut, with Gavi's assistance, and once the bandage was secured, a wave of exhaustion washed over you. All the boxes were finally ticked - you and Gavi were safe and clean and dressed, and now your body felt relaxed enough to crash from the exhaustion of the day. Pablo noticed your eyes drooping, and moved off the floor, helping you stand as well.

"Let me go get an extra blanket." He said, moving towards the door. You followed him out of the room, and he turned to you, confused.

"Where are you going?" He asked, arm against the wall and blocking your path.

"The other room?" You said, phrasing it as a question.

"The guest room doesn't have a bed in it yet. My sister is helping me pick one out since she visits the most often."

"To the couch, then." You said, and Pablo's eyebrows scrunched together in frustration.

"You're not sleeping on the couch. You've had a stressful day to say the least. You're going to sleep on the ridiculously expensive mattress and get a good night's rest."

"Then where are you going to sleep?" You asked, heart skipping a beat at some of the possible answers.

"The couch. I want to give you your space. Let me go get that extra blanket - the top floor gets cold in the winter."

You grabbed his arm stopping him from continuing down the staircase.

"You're not going to destroy your back by sleeping on the couch again. You're about to get called up for the national team, and their physios suck. They will replace you with a 3rd tier player before they help you fix a dorsal muscle strain. You have to sleep on the bed Pablo."

"I don't actually have to do anything. This is my house."

You both stared at each other, the two of you unmoving on your position, and both ignoring the obviously solution to your argument. After a minute, it was Pablo who was brave enough to make the suggestion.

"We could always just... both sleep on the bed. If you're comfortable with that. We can made a divider in the middle and everything."

Blushing, you looked at the floor before responding.

"Wouldn't be the first time."

Gavi got into bed, shirtless in a pair of shorts, and beckoned you to join. You walked slowly to the other side of the bed, crawling in and pulling up the covers, body stiff and muscles tense.

"I forgot to get the lights." You whispered quietly, making a move to get up. Suddenly the lights switched off, leaving the two of you in complete darkness, a weak ray of light filtering in from the half-moon.

"Expensive houses have a lot of pointless features, but this one is actually useful." Pablo said quietly, mentally kicking himself for making small talk about a light switch. He curled on his side away from you, uncomfortable but wanting to give you your own space, and let out a deep breath. You peered at Gavi, and then curled the other way, also in discomfort, but too scared to face him while conscious. It was too much. He was so close: enough to hold in your arms, to exchange body heat, to listen to his heartbeat and be lulled to sleep. But it was too much of a leap to take. It was too far out of your comfort zone, and you couldn't risk the delicate relationship with a desperate and ill-timed proclamation of... whatever it was you were feeling.

Pablo's heart hammered in his chest. Though it had been his idea, he had never actually thought it through. You had fallen asleep on his shoulder before, and he had survived, so he figured this experience wouldn't be that much harder. He was so sorely mistaken. The fact that you were laying an arm's length away from him kept his nerves on fire, and he couldn't even keep his eyes closed for more than a minute as the time. Despite the winter chill, his body was on fire, and the lack of clothing didn't help. You had just been attacked by your ex boyfriend, and Gavi wanted to hold you in his arms and protect you from the entire world. Patience wasn't his best trait, but he knew that it wasn't the time to ask you to be his. He needed to wait. He needed to be there for you right now

"Pablo?"

An hour after the two of you had settled, lights off and room quiet, you called out for him. Sleep escaped the two of you, and he turned over almost instantly when he heard you whisper his name. Turning to face each other, your eyes adjusted so that you could look at his features in the dark. He was beautiful. There was no denying how conventionally attractive Pablo was. But there were so many little things that enhanced his beauty, only visible from this close. You wished the moon would shine a little brighter so that you could look at the flecks in his eyes, and count the lashes fluttering above them. His features were relaxed, lids drooping and lips slightly puffed out. The scars and moles on his face were the only markings on the smooth skin, and you longer to run your fingers through his hair, brushing it away from his eyes.

"Can... can we do something? To help me sleep? But then promise you'll forget about it tomorrow?"

Pablo swallowed hard for the nth time that night. He hesitated. There was no way he could promise to forget a single moment of this night with you, but he could control himself from speaking about it, and that was all he really needed to do.

"Anything."

You sat up in bed, moving quickly before your confidence evaporated completely. You moved in to the center of the bed, prompting Gavi to do the same. He moved slowly and warily, sitting shoulder to shoulder with you in the middle of the King-sized island.

"Lay down," You said, voice shaking slightly. You were terrified, but you knew that was the only way you would ever find rest before the sun came up. Pablo laid down, stiff as a board, half expecting you to make a desperate dash for the couch. You let out a shaky breath, closing your eyes before you laid down beside him. You turned on your side, resting a hand on Gavi's chest. Pablo's eyes widened as he finally processed what your request was. He raised his arm, draping it over your shoulders, allowing you to cuddle even closer into his side. Your head now laid on his bare chest, his hammering heart loud in your ear. He brought his other arm around you as well, resting his hand over yours on his chest. The two of you held each other close, seemingly for dear life, and finally sighed out in belief.

There was no way to describe this feeling. The feeling of you resting against Pablo, arms and legs tangled together, with his head rested above yours. Your hands together, occupying each others' air. There was no way to describe it except for right. There was no awkwardness or strained breathing anymore. There was relaxation and comfortable silence enveloping the two of you. The rest of the world faded away, and in that moment, Pablo could have sworn that he had ascended to heaven.

"You saved me Pablo." You whispered out against him, needing to tell him someway, somehow, how much you appreciated him.

"Anyone would have interfered, doctora." He whispered back, being bold and caressing the skin of your arm that he encased with his.

"Not just today. In general. Since I met you, Pablo, you've made my life better. I just wanted to let you know. Good night."

Gavi tensed so hard it set off a headache. He couldn't cry, not while you were in his arms. He had always been seen as an asset because of his skill, always being told how valuable he was in that respect. But you saw him as a person, and not only did you tolerate it, but you cherished it. You made him proud to be himself.

"You too, in ways you can't even imagine. Good night, y/n."

~

Despite the way it started, the international and Christmas break was rather uneventful. Your little "sleepover" with Gavi saw the two of you sleeping in until 1pm, a rare occurrence for the both of you. Usually you both had too much going on, both on the schedule and in your minds, to sleep for such prolonged times. Wiser minds might have stopped and questioned why being in each others' arms brought a wash of such immense peace, but alas. There was no such reflection. Only waking up in the middle of the day, exchanging awkward smiled before getting up to change. Gavi had awoken with your leg draped across him and half an erection, causing him to bolt for the bathroom when you turned to check your phone. He wanted to say something - anything - about the night before. But he had promised to "forget", sealing his lips until further notice.

He turned the shower to the coldest setting, trying to stay silent as he killed his hard-on in the least loving way possible. You took the opportunity to slip into your sweats from the night before, and putting Gavi's t-shirt back on. Yours still had bubbled blood from the events and peroxide of the previous night. As you sorted out your hair, Gavi emerged from the bathroom, towel slung around his hips, showing off his toned chest and deep V once again. You lifted yourself and turned to face the wall, looking up at the Lord through the ceiling and asking why you were being faced with such temptation.

"Don't look." Pablo instructed, and you heard the towel thud to the floor. It make your cheeks burn and you crossed your legs tightly. You tried to think of anything else to stop yourself from taking your medical history with Gavi and constructing a complete mental image.

"Pedri is going to ... do you want a clean shirt?" Gavi asked, now in a clean sweatshirt and jeans. There was something about seeing you in his clothes that made him borderline insane. He couldn't tell if he needed you to stop, or needed you to do it every day.

"Oh, no, this one is fine. Thanks again - I'll wash it and return it as soon as I can."

"You can keep it." Gavi replied, turning back to his closet. The last thing he needed was to become aroused whenever he saw the folded shirt in his house. He grabbed a sweatshirt and tossed it to you as well.

"Are you donating clothes to me now? My salary isn't that bad, Pablo." You laughed out as you caught it.

"It's December, doctora. You should know that it's not great to go out in the cold. Your hoodie is still in your car, so wear this for now. Speaking of - Pedri is on his way over. He's gonna drive your car back to your place, and we'll take his. That way you never need to go near that dick's house again."

You slipped the green sweatshirt over your head, and were instantly attacked with the smell of body wash and cologne. Gavi had worn this recently. You brought the sleeves up and took a deep breath again before rushing downstairs to follow Gavi. It was a one time occurrence - you wouldn't allow yourself to get close to Pablo like this again. You were coworkers, first and foremost.

The two of you climbed into Pedri's car, you in the driver's seat and Gavi in the passenger, fingers trembling as you took the familiar turns. You stopped about a block away, dropping Pedri off, and driving off to the café the three of you had agreed to meet at to avoid any chance of being followed. You made idle conversation with Gavi, the two of you feeling the obvious tension. Pedri brought you your car, and you left the boys, giving them both a quick hug goodbye before going home to process the insane 24 hours you just had.

The boys were headed back to Gavi's to pack before heading to Madrid for national team training. On the way home, Pablo bounced his leg, biting his lip and furrowing his eyebrows more than usual.

"Hermano," Pedri started, "whatever you need to say, please just say it."

"But I'm not supposed to."

"Then stop with the fucking anxious ticks! Either speak or stay silent, but don't drive me crazy. It's a long day." Pedri ended his scolding with a light laugh. He knew Pablo better than anyone, and could tell it was only a matter of time before the younger boy started to spill his guts. Gavi wanted to stay strong, holding the promise he made to you extra close to his heart and his honor, and picked up his phone to pass the time. He opened up his twitter, refreshing the feed.

"Oh fuck. I'm in trouble."

Yes, the break was rather uneventful. You filled your time with studying, revising medical plans, and watching the international matches on TV. You tried your best to stay inside to avoid seeing anybody. You were still mourning the end of your relationship with Martin. Despite the confirmation that Martin was borderline clinically insane, it still weighed heavily on you, day by day, that you had once again been cheated on. That you had once again molded yourself into the absolutely closest thing to perfection, and had again fallen short. The winter weather also made you more lethargic, less keen to go outside and interact with others. And finally, you were terrified of anyone on the street recognizing you.

In hindsight, you should have made Pedri just walk and get your car. Or you should have waited until you knew Martin wasn't home and done it yourself. Because the thing about Pedri's lush green mini Cooper was that is was one of the most recognized cars in Spain, and so girls would flock to every single one they saw. His car had been posted enough for the most dedicated to have the license plate committed to memory. So driving around in such a recognizable car with the most sought-after footballer in Spain might not have been the best idea - especially during the day when the window tints weren't as effective. It took less than an hour for you and Gavi's pictures to be circulated around fan accounts, with people commenting on everything. The fact that you were driving, the hoodie you were wearing, the way that Gavi looked at you- the list was endless.

It took another 4 hours for people to figure out who you were. @gaviraconcubine on twitter had thankfully recognized you as one of the physios from game clips, and informed the rest of the rabid mob. Some had been satisfied with the answer, while others believed this an even more damning piece of information.

@gaviraconcubine: ok so the girl Gavi was with in the car is one of the barca physios - all the squad follows her + some shots of her on the field ! Gavi nation we're safe ;P

4,788 Likes 2,003 Retweets 834 Replies

@barcabarcabarca : guys shes literally a staff member???? gavi cant talk to female staff now wtf

@mrspgavira : if he ignored all of us to fall in love with the first ugly ass girl he bumped into at work ill take a swim with a toaster

@88rizzing : so she just started w barca this szn and got gavi? alexa play mastermind

@loonastansbrazil : more drivers for gavi!! she too old to be his girl

Barca staff were on public record, and so by the end of the day, your social media, school, and entire life history had been published on social media for people to scrutinize. It had sent you spiraling, suddenly being at the center of extreme amounts of attention from teen girls and 45-year old Barca stans alike.

[Pablo]: hey

[Pablo]: im rlly sorry about all the stuff online

[Pablo]: it should all die down soon. will be done at 9pm and I can call you

So that's what you did. Cook, clean, study, watch football, and get in disguise if you ever needed to go out. You spent your evenings chatting with Gavi. First it was about the media circus that you two were going through.

"It'll die down eventually. I'll stand too close to another girl and then everybody will leave you alone."

"Or accuse you of being a cheater."

"Has enough time passed for us to make cheating jokes?"

But as your fears started to ease an your mentions dried up, the conversations went back to the casual, playful tone that always filled the air whenever you and Gavi conversed. It was easier to talk to Gavi than it was with anyone else. You still spoke to your other friends, checking in on Angelika periodically over text, but no one could fill an hour FaceTime call like Gavi could, making it feel like mere minutes. Often, the two of you were both lounging, you on your couch and him in whatever hotel bed the national team had provided. As the days went on, you grew more comfortable answering the phone sans makeup, showing the most natural parts of yourself to who was shaping up quickly to be your closest friend.

Returning to work after the break may have been harder than the break itself. The office was abuzz with the rumors about you and Gavi. For the first few days, you ignored all the chatter. You had seen enough online to know that not knowing was always better. You didn't care what anyone said about you, as long as you proved you were an asset to the team. That is until Antonio came into your office one day with a sealed envelope. He was finishing up with some loose ends in Barcelona, before making his way to the UK to start in Manchester after the January transfer window had closed. He walked into your office, a large manila envelope in hand, and placed it on your desk.

"What's this?" You asked, peering at it from behind your glasses. Antonio was not one to make jokes or pull pranks, so it confused you to see him now, giggling in your office like a school girl.

"Oh this? Nothing important. Just a backup plan. Now it's my turn to ask the questions." He said, coming around and sitting atop your desk.

"Is it true that you're sleeping with Gavi?"

~

It had been a long time since you had seethed with this much rage. First, shock and embarrassment flooded your veins, freezing you in place, leaving you like a deer in headlights before the question. Antonio's ringing laugh is what pulled you out of your trance. You quickly denied the rumor, stating that you and Gavi were friends, but everything remained strictly professional.

"We heard you went to his house after the last home game before the break, and didn't leave until the following day, and wearing his clothes as well! You don't have to lie to me, I won't tell Dr. G or Xavi. So how was he?"

You promptly instructed Antonio to get the hell out of your office, and you made a move to head to the practice field. How dare Gavi: tell people you slept together when you did nothing of the sort. Well, you did something of the sort, but not in that way! Your job was already in jeopardy as it was, and it didn't help your case to be allegedly sleeping with one of the players. Talk about acts that increase favoritism. As you turned to corner to head to the field, you were met with a hard chest instead. Looking up, you saw the one face you had been trying to avoid all week: Ferran.

"My favorite little nurse. I haven't seen you since before the break. How have you been?" His arms were crossed over his chest, smirk and arrogance across his face. He blocked your path, and you sighed before responding.

"I don't have time to chat, Ferran. I was headed to the practice field to speak to-"

"Gavi? Yeah, I don't think so. My hamstrings need work. You're coming with me."

You followed closely behind, annoyance bubbling in your throat as you followed Ferran to your office. He laid on the examination bed as you closed the door, using the small sink to wash your hands, and donning a pair of clean gloves as he rolled up his shorts and laid on his stomach.

"So sad to hear about you and Martin, y/n. You two really did make a cute couple. I saw him at the end of the break - he's really looking quite worse for wear."

Uncapping your athletic salve, you started working the mixture between your fingers before moving to Ferran's thigh.

"Yeah, well, that's what happens when you're a cheater. Usually quite a deal-breaker in a relationship."

You had resolved no to speak to the striker on your table, knowing that everything he said would only egg you on further, creating more opportunities for you to slip up and be unemployed. But there was something in you that Martin had broken, no, stolen, that made staying silent astronomically more difficult than it had been. So your tongue release from your cheek quicker than you could process, and you steeled yourself once again to work on his legs. What were his legs even tired from? It's not like he was playing regularly.

"You know that there's more than one way to cheat on a person, right?" Ferran questioned, folding his arms to get more comfortable on the table. You shifted your eyes to look at him, one brow raised in confusion. Your lip curled up in disgust, and again your found yourself speaking without intention.

"I don't want to hear about all the different ways he cheated on me. I know you two are friends or whatever, but I'm not interested in the rest of his dirty laundry."

"I'm not talking about Martin. The other cheater in question is you."

Movements slowing, you locked eyes with Ferran, who held your gaze with confidence - like he was holding all the cards, and you were none the wiser.

"I didn't go around sleeping with other people while I was in a committed relationship." You deadpanned, not enjoying how the morning was progressing.

"Right, that was Martin - how unoriginal if you both did the same thing. He went around and slept with a couple other girls to satisfy his base desires. It's bad, but what you did is much worse, little nurse."

You tore your gaze away from Ferran, working his legs with new vigor, restraining yourself from just grabbing onto the flesh and squeezing until he screamed out in pain.

"This is not a professional topic of conversation and you shouldn't bring it into the workplace." You replied, but your voice had started to waiver.

"Oh yes it is, because it revolves around one of your coworkers. While Martin was out working and training an doing other things - or other people - you were also being unfaithful. Sure you didn't sleep with someone, but you were in a 'committed relationship', as you put it, when you started to fall for Pablito."

You pulled your hands away from Ferran like he had spontaneously combust, running from the flames. The look of bewilderment was not one you could suppress in that moment. Your throat had gone completely dry, but you knew the longer you remained silent, the more Ferran would interpret it as a confirmation of his theory.

"That's - it's not true. Gavi and I are coworkers, friends if you really want to push it. It's highly inappropriate for you to assume otherwise. Look I know you want me to lose-"

"Lose your job?" Ferran laughed callously. "Oh no, hermosa. I love seeing you run around here in those tight scrubs, hair pulled back - you're like my own personal masseuse. I just hate when some people get special treatment. And you and Pablito haven't exactly been subtle."

"There's nothing going on between-"

"Bullshit. What kind of employee is willing to come in early and work unpaid hours for just another member of the squad? He's the only one with your personal number. You drive him home after practice. Everyone knows that those hours he spends locked away after national team training, he's talking to you. For fuck's sake, you hadn't even been broken up with Martin for a day before you spent the night at his place!"

Eyes locked with the floor, your breathing quickened as Ferran's words too root in you. Did everyone think this way? Was it a common assumption that you harbored "special feelings" for Gavi? He continued without allowing you to recover.

"So you can get on your high horse and spew your woes about how your boyfriend slept with someone else. But you let little Pablito get access to the deepest, most intimate parts of your soul, and despite having a boyfriend, you let yourself love him. You let yourself love Gavi the night you watched him throw up outside the club, young and stupid and delirious, and yet you let Martin think he had a chance to be your man, your one, your soulmate. That's what most people would call emotional cheating. And it still makes you a shit person."

Your temples pounded, headache coming on from the lack of air in your system. You couldn't do anything, couldn't move, couldn't process the information being thrown at your brain. Had Ferran been present that first night at the club half a year ago? Had someone else remembered you, recounting the details to everyone involved? Did Gavi know that you were there, and had seen him in that state? Antonio's question from earlier flashed in your mind, and though you had assumed Gavi's lips had gotten loose, the real culprit was sitting in front of you buttered like a turkey. Everything else would have to wait - because you might lose your job if you didn't get this question answered.

"Have you been telling people I slept with Gavi?" You asked, the pain in your voice clinging to every word.

"I haven't been telling people anything that isn't true. I may have mentioned to a couple of the second-team players that you and Martin had broken up. I may have also mentioned that when I went to console my physically and emotionally battered friend, I watched you and Gavi leave his house, together, and you were in his clothes. Well, I didn't really need to provide that one, did I? The pictures are everywhere. And maybe there was a thing or two about how Martin has always been wary of Pablito, who seemed to always go out of his way to be at your beck and call. People connected their own dots."

"What the fuck is your problem with me?" You asked, voice desperate as you ripped of your gloves, coming around the table to face the slippery eel that was Ferran Torres directly.

"Why can you not stand the sight of me so much that you need me to lose everything I've worked for my whole life?"

The smirk was glued to his face, and the mal intent in his eyes burned brighter than ever.

"Just because I like watching you squirm. And if they fire you, it's no worry to me at all. The team managers are already embracing this 'diversity' thing, so another bubbly, bouncy little thing in scrubs will be in swiftly to take your place."

Ferran got up, readjusting his training uniform and making his way to the door. You couldn't speak. All you wanted to do was curl into a ball behind your desk. The entire staff thought you were sleeping with Gavi, and the thoughts spiraled onward. Did they think that's why you hadn't gotten fired after Ferran's complaint? Did anyone think you were qualified beyond just a toy for one of the players?

"I would steer clear of Gavi, hermosa. No more late drives, no more sleepovers. Rumor has it, word's gotten all the way up to Xavi. Would hate to have to give him confirmation that you two are more than friends. Because then you'd be looking for physio jobs in the village football teams."

"But we're not." You replied, voice strained and broken.

"Then keep it that way."

~

Since Pedri's nonexistent project with Adidas had ended, he was back to giving Gavi rides. It's not that he minded - the younger boy was always talkative and good company. But It was the waiting around that made Pedri want to scream. For the entire time they had been on international leave, you were the only thing Pablo thought about and spoke of, filling any silent moments sending messages to as a precursor for your nightly calls. Pedri was mistaken in thinking this teenage lovesick behavior would cease once they returned to Cam Nou.

Every day after practice, Gavi would move at the most glacial, snail-like pace just to time his exit with yours, accompanying you on the walk to your car. Today was no different. As Gavi took his time in the locker room doing Lord knows what, Pedri caught a glimpse of you speeding down the corridor. He wanted to greet you, to ask if you were okay, but he couldn't get the words out before you rushed past him. He turned into the locker room and yelled at his passanger.

"Hurry up hermano! She already left!"

[6 Missed Calls]: Gavi

You ignored the buzz of your phone on your table as you curled into yourself, tears streaming down your face. It was beyond what you could bear. You had sacrificed so much throughout your life to get the "dream" you were supposed to be living now: perfect life in a perfect city, with your perfect job and perfect friends. But all of it had been set ablaze. Your apartment had never felt lonelier or colder, as you looked at the chairs that had never been used, the floor that only you walked on. Since leaving America you found yourself with few to no friends. You never went out or saw anyone, dedicating yourself to excelling in your program. The only friend you ever had over was Angelika, and even she had not graced your home for weeks upon weeks. You had isolated yourself from everyone to make sure you were perfect at work - never tired or hungover, never a thread or hair out of place. Now you were friendless and single, curled up on your couch, cursing every decision you had ever made.

The last person you wanted to see or speak to was Pablo. Pablo, who had entered your life so suddenly, and taken up residence in your brain and heart, was the sole common thread between everything crumbling around you. You willed yourself to be angry with him. You tried your hardest to blame him for every misfortune that had come your way. Your lack of friends, many of whom distanced themselves when you started working for Barca under a perception that you were "too good for them". Your waning relationship with Angelika, which began when Pablo started to tunnel his way into your life, consuming more and more of your time. Your failed relationship with Martin, which was perfectly stale and stable before Gavi showed you what it was really like to be made a priority. The current precarious state of your job, it was his fault, because of his consistent fighting with Ferran, which provoked him to file his empty complaint.

You wanted to curse Gavi and the day you had met him, but you couldn't do it. You couldn't bring yourself to even have an ill thought about Pablo. All you could do was curse yourself. You had known deep down for so long how you really felt. From that night you spoke to him in the club, identity yet unknown, but all his vulnerability on display, you had known that there was something pulling you into his orbit. You had known that the hoops you jumped through for him were special, and not inconveniences you would shoulder for anyone else. You had known when you searched for him on the field, in your contacts, in your subconscious that no one would ever bring you this much peace. His eyes, his words, the energy that radiated from him were rarities, seen once in a lifetime, and often squandered by those to late to grab them. And so you sat on your couch, tears pouring down your face as the realization enveloped you, too great to hide any longer: Pablo Paez Gavira was your best friend, and you were heart-achingly, soul-crushingly in love with him, but you would never be able to do anything about it.

Gavi had given up after 6 missed calls and 18 unanswered text messages. He knew that you would call him when you were ready to do so, but the anxiety gnawed at him nonetheless. He couldn't stand the thought of you upset, and would move heaven and earth just to make sure you were doing fine. He was currently checking his phone for notifications ever 30-45 seconds, leg once again bouncing - much to Pedri's dismay. The two of them, accompanied by Alejandro and Eric, were at a restaurant catching up with some friends. Gavi paid no mind to anyone. He was too preoccupied to engage in idle conversation. Rather, he just wanted to hear the sound of your voice -no , your breathing even, to calm his worries.

He felt a tap on his shoulder, tearing his gaze away from the screen. A short blond stood before him - one of Eric's friends - and she spoke directly to him, asking questions about his age and if he also played for the club. Unhappy with the interruption, Gavi gave quick and curt responses, trying to avoid a prolonged conversation. This did not deter the girl, who introduced herself as Jacinta, from getting Gavi's undivided attention, as she sat beside him, legs pressed against each other, and rested a hand on his thigh. Before he could react, he heard the gasp of his name, swiveling around to find several teenage girls huddled by the front of the restaurant, phones out and whispering to each other. Gavi had lost his appetite, excusing himself and taking a taxi back to his, checking his phone frequently as he prayed for you to give him any indication that you were alive.

Your phone rang once again, and the tone echoing through your apartment was one you welcomed eagerly: Angelika's. You had not heard from her in the last month, trying to give her enough space to do her work, while still reminding her you were there for support.

"Angelika! It's so good to hear from you."

"I'm moving to Paris."

Your face fell as you turned the words over in your mind.

"You're...what?"

You sat up on the phone, listening to Angelika explain how she had impressed her colleagues, being promoted to their Paris office to work on more couture and avant-garde looks. She gushed about what an amazing opportunity it was as you tried to stop yourself from throwing up. How was it that you were losing everything in your life all at once.

"That's so amazing, Ange."

That was all you could muster, deciding to be a good friend and leave your worries and fears to the side, letting her bask in the triumph of her accomplishment. You responded with how proud you were, how much she deserved this, and how you knew she would do amazing things.

"Does Gavi have a girlfriend?"

The sudden mention of Gavi's name alone was enough to knock the wind out of you, but the context of the question really threatened to have you spill your guts on the rug.

"Not that I know of." You said, the feeling of dread dripping into your gut like tar.

"One of the Barca fan pages just posted a pic of him with some girl at dinner. Look I just sent it. I didn't know he was old enough to be getting girls like that. You two are friends, right?"

Your eyes were instantly drawn to the blonde girl's hand on Gavi's thigh. She wasn't his girlfriend. If anyone were to know that Gavi were in a committed relationship, it would be you. But this knowledge didn't help the wounded feeling that settled into you. You were home, pining after this little footballer, as he effortlessly flirted with other women. You were once again in pieces over a man that did not think of you the way you thought of him.

"Yeah, we're friends, I guess."

You would never be more than Gavi's physiotherapist and someone he occasionally sent Tiktoks to. Gavi was a deity in his field, a name that struck fear and respect in the hearts of the opposition. He was a symbol of the next generation of football royalty, and a man that could have any woman at his feet with a lick of his lips and a wave of his hand. This is what he was destined for: days in the spotlight, photographs with mysterious beauties, and a loyal fanbase that worshipped his every move. None of that involved you: an employee. Why would he want you? There was nothing you could give him that didn't come in a prettier package. He would never look at you as more than a friend, because you walked with the common crowd, and he was among the elite. Gavi could have any girl that he wants, and it was obvious he didn't want you.

You moved from the couch and walked to your table, waking up the computer that sat upon it. You glanced at the envelope Antonio had slid to you earlier, and thought about his offer. What did you have left? You typed a quick email to Xavi requesting a brief meeting the following morning, before heading to bed, trying to sleep away the suffocating feeling that clung to you.

~

Gavi was at your office door when you walked in the following morning, despite you arriving 20 minutes earlier than usual. His arms were crossed, face scrunched in worry, but his features relaxed when you walked to the door. He tried to help you with your belongings, but you refused. You exchanged a dry good morning before entering your office, avoiding his gaze. He asked how you were feeling, and if anything had happened the previous day. Eyes glued to your computer, you responded shortly, informing him that everything was fine and that you had a meeting with Xavi you needed to prepare for.

"Doctora, did I do something?"

You finally looked at Gavi, taking in his pained expression. It hurt in ways medicine understand for you to be freezing him out like this, and yet, all you could do was think about the image of Gavi coupled with Ferran's words. Was it worth it to risk everything for someone who would never be yours? You shook you head, informing him again that everything was fine. Everything was far from fine: you felt like you had been thrown off a cliff, your sense of purpose and direction and meaning in life shattered. But you didn't want to burden Gavi with this knowledge. So you stood and collected your folders, lips pursed tightly. You would just have to pretend that you weren't desperate to confess to Pablo that he was the reason that you breathed air, and that you were focused on your meeting and nothing else.

He was not satisfied with your answer. Gavi searched for your eyes, trying to understand what he could have possibly done wrong to get you to change on him so quickly - to become so cold. But you refused to meet his gaze, and he was left to his own theories. Had the rumors of you two together repulsed you from him? Were you unable to look him in the eye now that someone had put the thought in your head that you two could be more than friends? Had you finally decided you were too mature and good for him? He had chewed his lips and inner cheek all night pondering these possibilities.

"Please, y/n, if I did something, let me make it right."

"Gavi." Bad sign. You never called him Gavi when you were happy with him. Gavi was his official name in the team, the professional term you addressed him by. His stomach sank, and everything in him screamed to take you into his arms, not letting you go until he once again heard the sweet sound of "Pablo" drip from your lips like honey.

You wanted to grab him and shake him, scream at him, and cry into his shoulder. You wanted to tell him that there was no way for him to make it right, unless he was ready to have you, wholly and completely, never letting you go no matter the consequences. You wanted to tell him the only thing that could fix it was the one thing you could never ask for: his love.

"I need you... to stay away from me for a while."

Gavi could swear e felt his heart crack in two. What could he have possibly done? What heinous crime had he committed that made you need such a high degree of separation. He had been right there: he had you in his arms, laid on his chest, and heartbeat synching with his own. Now, everything was slipping through his fingers like fine sand, and he was watching you disappear before his very eyes.

"Not because I'm angry with you, but I just... need space."

Gavi could do nothing but stare, mouth agape, begging every power that be for this to be a cruel joke. But you continued to shuffle your papers, and the punchline never came. Before he could form a response, a knock resounded from the door, and Xavi walked into the office.

"Gavi, you're here early." He said, eyebrow raised at you in suspicion. The young footballer swallowed this hurt and his pride, clearing his throat to speak.

"Yeah, just came to get some more medical tape. Doctora y/l/n told me we have some in the locker room. I'll be going now."

Gave left your office, shutting the door behind him, but he could not move. He leaned against the wall, trying to fill his lungs with air, but the breaths he took didn't feel like enough. Tears pricked at his eyes, and he was reminded of his childhood, when the other boys would bully him and push him around the field. That was the last time he properly cried of pain. It was happening now, for the first time in 11 years, but this was a different kind of pain. There were needles pricking every inch of his skin, and he could do nothing except let the pain overtake him. What could he have possibly done to push you away?

He was taken out of his thoughts by the sound of Xavi's voice through the door. He knew he shouldn't have been listening, but he needed to hear you. He needed to listen to you speak, hear the normalcy in your voice, if he ever wanted to move from that God forsaken spot in front of your door.

"-a little late notice. You should try and schedule further in advance for coming meetings." Xavi said. It was unusual for Gavi to hear you be scolded. When had you asked to meet him?

"I apologize, mister, but it was all some very late occurrences, and I didn't want to delay."

"Alright then, go ahead."

"As you know, we are about 10 days into the January transfer window, and while players are getting offers from all over, this is also the time when clubs try and change staff."

Pablo put a hand over his mouth to cover any sounds he made and prevent himself from vomiting. He didn't like where this was going.

"Yes, I'm aware." Xavi responded. "Antonio is leaving us during this window."

"Exactly. That's actually what I wanted to speak to you about. Antonio, as we all know, is a very talented physiotherapist and sports medic, meaning he got offers from a number of clubs. He received a position as head of physiotherapy at Chelsea, which he had to reject obviously to join Man City. Yesterday, he graciously got the offer forwarded to me."

"Miss y/n, please clarify your intentions. I am not very good at understanding subtext." Xavi laughed out.

"Yes sir. I'll be direct then: I am considering leaving F.C. Barcelona at the end of the transfer window."

~~~~~~~

A/N: guys pls don't kill me I'm sorry for the end (not rlly lol). I hope you all enjoyed what is officially the longest part of the series to date!! Got close to my 15k goal, but not there yet - maybe in the next part. My hands are actually cramping from all the writing this is borderline self-inflicted torture lol. Did y'all catch the subtle title/ lyric references? As usual, please leave thoughts, feedback, predictions, etc. in the replies - I love reading all of them so much!!! Esp watching the way people think the story is going to progress because sometimes y'all are spot on and sometimes y'all are wayyyy off and I'm like "wait that would actually be a great plot for another series". Anyways love you all and hope you enjoy!! Part 8??? She's gonna be intense y'all.

Also please comment if you want to be added to the taglist ok bye

*~*Taglist*~*

@l0verl4ne @vibinwkay @anastasia-nova @mxgvmiii @mads-grace4 @bubblebeep69 @katluckybear @scuderiabarca @alwaysclassyeagle @simpingmyassoff @grlwithprblms @lqvesoph @pink-manz @graziemille @xxenia14 @nngkay @icedlattewithextracaramel @gyusrose @vip-access @julianalvarez9 @lavie3nrose @ge0rg1ewaa @i8yul @lovefordilfs271 @remuslupinluver @thattaylorswiftobsessedbitch @chaotic-taco-collector-blog @kaismybabe @notanenthucutlet @fullsun9890 @venomwh0re @renaissancewhxre @gaviandgrizisgirl @altgojo @urmomdotcom5678 @eliseline @invidia-of-alhambra @pixwls @stell4rrrs @80sloverry @car1no-xx @mrsgavira @888bear @kylianmbappee @ivyhrry @gaviypedrisbride @grlwithprblms

[talesfrommedinastation]

My redneck neighbor Doug watches 'The Bad Batch': The Outpost

As per many people's requests, I've collected a series of texts and Facebook messages from Doug when he watched certain episodes of everyone's favorite Copy Paste Boi show.

Some he was quite pithy on ('Ryan-from-Accounting goes fast but not fast enough to get away from the Bitch Wife Laura'), and others...well, he got excitable, to put it mildly.

Here's one of the more deranged ones, Season 2, Episode 12, 'The Outpost'. Or as Doug calls it: "The Daddy Warcrimes Christmas Special."

CW for Language like you wouldn't believe. Doug says "you'll need a permission slip from your momma to read this, I guess."

-----

Daddy Warcrimes is waiting by the Empire's equivalent of a windowless van, because comfort is just not his thing and he really wants the experience of smuggling cocaine across the border one of these days.

Some bitch who looks like she works at a bank is telling these clones that their extended warranty is up. I wanna bring her a bag of pennies and make her count it before I deposit it because I'm sick like that.

So here comes in SOME BLOND JACKASS. Mother of Hell do I hate this guy. Can I just tell you how much I hate him? I hate him like I hate the Crimson Tide, like I hate February, like I hate my mother-in-law. Hate hate hate. 

So Daddy Warcrimes, SOME BLOND JACKASS, and some homies get into Floating Probable Cause to lay waste to an unsuspecting Third World country or whatever.

Well, I was wrong! Looks like Elsa and her frozen fingers took over this dump. Disney owns both, so why not. The cold never bothered them anyway. Nope, they’re at somebody’s nasty old storage shed. Why does this remind me of visiting my sister in Wyoming?

Oh, who is this no-frills, salt-of-the-earth, son-of-a-bitch? Is that tanned Kurt Russell? No? It’s Sassy Park Ranger! I like him already. If he was my boss I’d actually show up to work on time and sober, or late and hung over, either way, it’d be a good time with the man. He just seems cool and chill and a nice dude. I bet he’s got homemade beef jerky in his locker and his beard always smells like cigar smoke. 

OH SHUT UP STUPID BLOND JACKASS, Jesus Christ I’ve never wanted to hit someone with a folding chair so hard in my life. CALL HIM COMMANDER.

Aw, Sassy Park Ranger’s being nice to Daddy Warcrimes, maybe Daddy Warcrimes will share the Columbian nose candy in the back of the van with Sassy Park Ranger, and Sassy Park Ranger won’t ask about the sobbing family Daddy Warcrimes is probably holding for ransom in the back. It’s all about understanding each other. 

This is truly the Daddy Warcrimes Christmas special, snow and friendship and stuff. I hope this doesn’t end up with Daddy Warcrimes 86’ing Rudolph and the rest of the reindeer from the sky, that would traumatize the children. But this is the same studio that produced Bambi so who knows. Didn't he try killing a kid the first episode?

Oh man, Sassy Park Ranger’s lost a lot of his men, that’s real sad. Only two left, Jesus. SHUT UP BLOND JACKASS SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP.

(I won’t repeat it, but the amount of times that SHUT UP was texted was….something else- Dr. MM)

Sassy Park Ranger’s taking Daddy Warcrimes on a hike around the place in the middle of a blizzard, probably going to say hi to the yeti hooker they all frequent and show him how to write his name in the snow with pee. He’s such a good guy. If they go sledding I’d be so happy.

Oh, shit! Daddy Warcrimes remembers that he has a job and proceeds to cop some poor bastard in the leg so he can follow the trail of blood in the snow. What in the Fargo am I watching here, does Steve Buschemi show up at one point now. No sledding in this one, I guess.

Well there goes Sassy Park Ranger and Daddy Warcrimes on a heartwarming romp following a crippled burglar in the snow as he bleeds to death. Kevin McCallister would be so proud. Well, now, they found a dead body already. You know, at this point, if Daddy Warcrimes capped Santa in the head this show wouldn’t be less wholesome. 

Aw shit Daddy Warcrimes stepped on a landmine, but Sassy Park Ranger watched his training videos that HR made them sit through and disarms it. They’re having a nice convo, I really, really like Sassy Park Ranger. If he dies I’ll be so freaking mad. 

(I said nothing, FYI - Dr. MM)

Aw shit, they found the bunker of crazy white people with guns in the snow. It’s confirmed: the Daddy Warcrimes Christmas Special takes place in Wyoming. Are Daddy Warcrimes and Sassy Park Ranger facing off my brother-in-law and his branch of the VFW near Laramie? Those guys need hobbies besides doomsday prepping and getting drunk in the snow. It ain’t right. 

“After all we sacrificed”…man. I feel right here. Is this the child friendly version of Enemy at the Gate? Shit. Please these two bastards need to survive. I need a beer and I wanna hug my wife.  

Dr. Meat Muffin, please don't tell me you're letting your babies watch this show. They need that dog from Australia who has fun with her daddy, not this.

Oh shit, avalanche! 

Oh no, Sassy Park Ranger. Oh no, oh no. Oh, Daddy Warcrimes.

Thank Christ they made it! They’re gonna save him! They’re gonna save him.

Wait. What. 

WHAT THE FUCK, BLOND ASSHOLE. 

I HATE THIS JACKASS SO GODDAMNED MUCH, SOLDIER OF THE EMPIRE, I WANNER SHOVE MY SOLDIER UP YOUR EMPIRE YOU STUPID DICK. 

FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU

Yay! Daddy Warcrimes finally took out his gun and 86’d that FUCK. CHRISTMAS CAME EARLY!! YAAAAAAY!!!!!

Man...I hope this ends okay for Daddy Warcrimes. I hope his brothers aren't just dicking around somewhere warm while he and the other bros are out dying.

Guess that'll be next episode?"

....Doug snapped SO HARD watching 'Pabu'. Brace yourselves.

[specialagentlokitty]

Eddie Diaz x Daughter!reader - so much time

Hej do you think you can write a part two of Eddie x daughter reader - so much time? Maybe they still have some struggle in their father daughter relationship? - Anon 💜

Part two:

Throwing your jacket on, you grabbed your keys and stuffed them into your pocket as you made your way towards the door.

“Oh you’re going out?” Eddie asked.

“Going for a drive with some friends.” You said.

Eddie nodded his head, looking around a bit unsure.

“I thought with Christopher at school maybe uh.. maybe you and I could do something…”

“Sorry dad.”

With that you left and jogged down the street to where your friends were waiting.

Eddie sighed heavily, unsure what to do now, since that day a few months ago you two had gotten a little better.

You talked a little more, sometimes you’d have dinner with him, but other than that, there was not much improvement between the pair of you.

And although Eddie knew he wasn’t, he couldn’t help but feel like he was loosing his only daughter, or maybe he already had.

Sitting in the couch, he turned on the Tv unsure what to do with his day off now.

You on the other hand jumped into the front of the car and grinned at your friends.

“Not spending time with your dad?” Ryan asked.

“Why would I?” You asked confused.

“Thought things were getting better.” He shrugged.

You glanced over at him on the drivers side and you went back to looking as the houses passed your by.

“Is that why you asked me to take you on a drive?”

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to say to him Ry, like sure we talk a bit more, spend a bit more time together but it feels weird.”

“Come on, he’s your dad. Surely it’s not that bad.”

“We haven’t had a proper conversation for years.”

“Shit…”

Ryan glanced at you and he sighed as he turned back to the road.

“I mean, at least he’s trying at least you know? That’s something.”

“I guess, but only cause I nearly died.”

“He loves you don’t be such a bitch about it.”

You slapped his arm and he laughed a little, grinning at you.

“Come on though, really, you can’t tell me you don’t want a relationship with your dad.”

“No of course I do, it’s just weird. Like, what do we even talk about?”

“School, his work, stuff you like I guess. I don’t know really.”

“Well, what do you talk to your mom about?”

“Everything.”

You nodded your head and went back to gazing out of the window.

You didn’t know what to talk to your dad about really, it felt awkward and neither of you really knew how to pick up where you left off.

“Come on man, it can’t be that bad.” Buck said.

Eddie looked over at his best friend.

“She literally leaves the house the first chance she gets.”

“She wants to spend time with her friends, that’s understandable right?”

Eddie sighed, nodding his head.

“Of course it is, but it’s like we don’t even know each other. I’m a stranger to my own daughter.”

Buck looked over.

“What happened between you guys?” He asked.

Eddie began to explain everything to Buck, to give him a picture of the whole story, from when you were a kid until now.

Now where you won’t even give him the time of day unless you didn’t have anything else planned.

Buck took a small breath and nodded his head.

“Message her now, just ask her if she wanted to get some dinner or something when she’s home.”

“She won’t.”

“Just ask her Eddie.”

Eddie picked up his phone and sent you a text.

Hearing your phone go off you pulled it out your pocket and looked at it.

Dad: do you want to go to your favourite place for dinner?

“He asked if I wanted to get dinner.”

“Say yes.”

“Why?”

“Oh just do it.” Ryan laughed.

You shrugged a little bit.

You: sure. I don’t know when I’ll be back.

You spent most of the day with Ryan, and instead of dropping you at home he dropped you off outside your favourite food place.

Eddie was stood waiting and he smiled when he saw you.

“Hey, good day?” He asked.

“Yeah, we just drove around really, spent a few hours at the beach.” You nodded.

Your dad nodded and opened the door for you, and you both sat down at a table.

And like every time it was just as awkward as ever as you waited for your food.

“How about we make this a weekly thing?” Eddie asked.

“Really? Why?”

Eddie sighed.

“I want to be your dad like I used to, where you’d come to me for everything.”

You nodded your head a little.

“I guess I could spare some time.” You smiled.

“Spare some time, really?”

“I’m a busy person dad.” You shrugged.

Eddie laughed a little.

“You spend your days going on drives and spending all your money.”

“Exactly, busy.”

Eddie smiled softly and you smiled back.

“It’s just… it weird you know? Like I know you’re my dad, but I feel like I don’t know you.”

“I understand it fully. And I know that’s my fault, I just want to fix it.”

“Same.”

Eddie smiled and handed you your drink as it came.

“So, tell me about school.”

“Well, you’ve got a lot to catch up on.”

“That much huh?”

“There’s a lot of drama.”

You began to tell Eddie about school, and the awkwardness began to fade.

It was still there, but as you talked away Eddie had some hope that maybe things were getting a bit better or at least he hoped they were

[jaeedraszaerysz]

JOHNNY, BAM, STEVE-O, CHRIS AND RYAN WITH A NORTHERN ENGLISH S/O

Notes: this might have some more teesside oriented aspects so I apologise and I try to keep it as neutral as possible while still writing decent shit ✨️

Warnings: swearing, injury (obv u fuckin dumbass), sexual references??

JOHNNY KNOXVILLE

Will 100% dress up in a suit and take you to a fancy ass restaurant while working his shittiest English accent

Got confused as fuck when you started using any slang/roadman terms

Defos uses words wrong

Went round calling everyone wanker for a full day

Thought chav was a fucking food at first defos

LOVES HEARING U SPEAK

will listen to u chat for hours

MY DAYS HES OBSESSED

So let's say jackass came to England yea

And u went up north to visit ur mates and stuff yea

Wouldn't understand a fuckin thing u was on about if u were talking to your mates

Thought a parmo was a sex move and was GOBSMACKED

He defos went to a pub with u and the guys and they got the piss ripped of them by a bunch of sweaty geezas in their 50s 😭

Take him to any beach and you will 100% have to restrain him from jumping of the end of a pier into a bunch of rocks

Caught onto u saying innit so much and now says it unironically and the guys have a laugh taking the mick out of him

Poor sod

But he's devoted to you

Defos would make roadman and chav skits w u outside a maccies or a tesco extra

BAM MARGERA

Asking if u know every single British rockstar to ever exist

Was confused when u told him it was almost 5 hours from London to anywhere near ur gaff

Got scrapped by a bunch of year 7s outside a one stop if u took him to England

Takes the mick out of yu in a cute way

Copies ur words

DEFOS TOLD JOHNNY TO PACK IT IN ONCE AND U WERE FUCKING CREASING

Told him u met Janick Gers from iron maiden and had drinks wiv him in the pub one time and he almost diedddd.

You could defos persuade him to dress up in a Adidas traccy and run fru ur local shopping center screaming sweet Caroline and tripping over eachother

you took him to hmv?

Big mistake

He never wants to leave

Defos has all the badges and posters

Spent an hour minimum sat on the floor with you looking at the band t shirts

Would complain constantly about weather but would kiss you in the rain

Got stuck in a shitty kids swing at the park

CHRIS PONTIUS

Lives for your voice

Copies ur every word

If u took him to ur hometown he would cling onto your arm and NOT let go

Called someone a geezer at a local boots and got scrapped

Yano them rando tarzees kids make out of rope and stuff but their always like 50 meters of the ground?

He found one

Jumped off

Flew like a mufucken bird

BEANS ON TOAST

WHAT AN INVENTION

His mind was opened to the 4th dimension that day

Imagine he pulled a party boy stunt in the town center

GOT CALLED A NONCEWING BY A BUNCH OF CHAVS

Wore a tie everywhere u went while u were their

Says oh my days religiously now

Fails a stunt? Oh my days

Trips? Oh my days

Bam pulls a rocky on him? Oh my fucking days

LOVES YOU SM THO

His little English, tea drinking princess

STEVE-O

Steve-o lived in England for alot of his childhood, always on the move so he was a bit more calm than most

BUT CAUSE HE WAS FROM DOWN SOUTH AND YOU UP NORTH THAT DONET STOP HIM

makes fun of northern chavs and compares them

Says the North is like a diff country all together js on account of the people and the weather

Thinks ur footie teams r shite

Defos got kicked up the arse for that one

Meal deals man

His fave thing after you

Esp from tescos

LYNX AFTERSHAVE IS HIS THING OMFS

Understands some British slang but is still confused by majority of ur convoz with people from ur home town

TAKE HIM TO FLAMINGO LAND

INSTANT MAYHEM

Sold gimicky vapes to some year 8s and fucking pissed himself laughing when they realised

RYAN DUNN

Swears at everyone with "posh words"

Wanker, bell-end, twat, muppet, cunt.

Picked up the accent on the words too

Fucking fab tha

GOT APPROACHED BY A PROZZIE

was terrified

Defos asked where her teeth were and got chased off

Thinks corner shops in England r the best thing ever

Manjaros? The takeaway not the mountain?

LOVED IT

DONNER KEBAB ✨️💅

Has been chased by council estate grannies for shoving you into people's gardens

Sat with you at the top of those shitty rope climbing frames in the park and u had a legit romantic moment

SPOILER ALERT! bam got photos of u kissing up there

Yano them random tunnels under the main roads yea?

Went down them wiv u and u ended up in a field with him laying on your chest and looking at the stars