#they honestly would not officially get together until like

[multipleoccupancy]

"She used to be," he answered honestly, "We were together for a very long time and we both climbed through the ranks as we went. It wasn't until after Sloane tried to sacrifice me the first time that we didn't really work together much and she got herself a job in HR." Theo almost lamented, he missed working with Samantha and he wished he could have a simple desk job in Delta Green. But he was a walking, talking threat magnet and he understood why that couldn't be. He realised what she was checking though and he was sure to add on, "She's only ever a phone call away." He smiled a little to himself, so grateful for her friendship.

"Thank you," he said of her reassurance she would tell him, even if it had worries with it. "I've seen and been through a lot, I can probably handle it, but if an episode is triggered, that's for me to deal with. I'd rather know what's happening and take that risk." It might not be the best way of doing things but at least Violet could have that support and if he needed it, he could get it through Delta Green. "I can go to official channels if I need help, you have me and while I will always do my best for you, you can and should be able to rely on me to be there for you... lectures and all."

She asked about the organisation finding out about what The Horned One had done to her and potentially trying to use it or view her as an unnatural threat that needed to be terminated. He thought of the many cultist agents in his past. "There is not an evil, cultist or otherwise bone in your body," he told her gently. "I don't recommend revealing what's happening to anyone else, but you know what cultists are like, you've met enough of them." He tried to reassure her as best he could but she was right to be wary of Delta Green. "Just keep it to yourself, ask for help from me or Samantha and only face to face with us somewhere like here or outside where no one can listen in."

He worried he was scaring her though, he knew from an outsider's perspective what it was he would think and do but he supposed in that sense he could protect her from anyone like him too. "Do you understand why it is I don't want you working for them? Even in a role you think you want, it's not something you might get." He knew she wanted to build traps but Delta Green didn't work like that very often, she needed someone to show what she could do and that came in trial and error in field work, unless he or Samantha could pull strings.

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐎 & 𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐓 @multipleoccupancy

A team of agents... like the agents she had seen in the mines. But none of those agents had made it out of the mines alive. Violet's chest tightened. "Is Samantha with you during field missions? Like in Ophir?" From what she had seen, Samantha seemed to always have the right words. It would be a comfort, to know that she was out there with her dad, to help him and talk to him. Besides, she knew her dad was not going to agree to talk to a therapist any time soon. She was still surprised (and touched) that he was even willing to accompany her to Dr. Parrish's office.

Violet didn't want to lie to her dad. And she knew that she needed to tell him about her travels, because only he understood, and it was hard enough to keep everything hidden from the rest of the family. But she also didn't want to break him again. The thought alone made her blood turn to ice. She nodded anyway. "I'll tell you, but... what if I trigger another episode?" She'd never forgive herself. She was already not really forgiving herself for what had happened four days ago.

"That's good," she smiled, "that you and Samantha changed things. You're keeping people safe from monsters and from Delta Green. Like that, no one will ever go through what you went through." And that, of course, included her. But she wasn't completely reassured, still. Even upon knowing that Layla's body would never be discovered, her shoulders stayed stiff, and her eyebrows furrowed.

"What if they find out I can travel? Will they think I'm a cultist? And- and if they find out Wiley gave me my powers?" Violet had no doubt about it now: the Program was a dangerous organization. And even if their recruitment methods had changed, that didn't mean they couldn't be a threat to her. Her dad had said it herself, they had threatened the entire family!

[ambernotember]

Next Christmas season, when Buck and Tommy are back together and things are going well, Buck decides to dive into the Better Home & Gardens Christmas Cookies recipe book.

He shows up for the next shift with BAGS of cookie tins, one for every single person at the 118, regardless of their shift.

Hen, Chim, Eddie and Bobby exchange worried looks behind him as he starts telling them about the different flavours, and they don’t relax until Buck goes “And Tommy said we really should make the softer gingerbread for people to eat, but we could get the big gingerbread cookie cutters and make some of the harder ones to build a ginger bread house with Jee. Hen, do you think Mara would want a set? What about Denny? Are they too old for that now? Eddie, don’t worry, Chris can make his at our place after the zoo next week. Hey, what do you think about the icing on those sugar cookies? I remade it because it seemed to liquid-y, and when I turned around Tommy was just eating the extra one with a spoon! Who does that? When I called him out on it he just started dipping cookies in it. Like giant dunkaroos! He’s officially off tasting duty, he snuck so many extra cookies. Worse than Jee, honestly.” He sighs, but can’t keep the giant grin off his face.

[recurring-polynya]

a cool thing about writing bleach fanfic is that i have read certain parts of the canon so many times that i feel like i know it really well and then i'll realize there's something i have absolutely no clue about. today's example: in the wake of Ichigo storming Soul Society, how widespread was the knowledge that Urahara had been assisting him?

Aizen knew, obvs, for Aizen reasons, but some of the stuff he mentions, like Urahara's known base of operations being in West Rukongai-> the involvement of known Urahara associates Shiba Kuukaku and Shihouin Yoruichi and other clues probably had a number of characters such as Yamamoto, Ukitake, Kyouraku, Unohana suspicious. I feel like Soi Fon and Kurotsuchi could easily have put it together as well, but I did not get that vibe from them so either they didn't or they were just too distracted or in Kurotsuchi's case, he probably did put it together and just didn't care (or pretended not to care)

When the captains finally show up in Hueco Mundo, we learn that Urahara had been working with the Gotei for some time so obviously his involvement has been known at some high enough level of security clearance.

Did Byakuya ever officially report the fact that Ichigo Hollowified right in front of him, which may not have meant much to him, but probably would have been a big tip-off to Yams. On one hand, it does not feel very Byakuya of him to leave something like that out of a report, but on the other hand, I really feel like he just kept it to himself.

Would Rukia have mentioned Urahara in her debriefings after she was arrested? On one hand, I do not think she understood who Urahara was and would not have thought much of mentioning him. On the other hand, Rukia is a "snitches get stitches" type to the marrow of her bones and I feel like she would have intentionally wiped any mention of him from her narrative 99% on principle and 1% for the purposes of protecting Ichigo

If I were banished from Soul Society and hiding out in the Living World, I would use an assumed name, probably all the time, but AT VERY LEAST for the case of interacting with active-duty shinigami. The only person who actually did this was Isshin and I honestly believe he just changed his name for wife-guy reasons.

Ichigo did, very much, straight up tell Ikkaku that Urahara taught him to fight and it was quite clear that Ikkaku was fully aware of who Urahara was. Did Ikkaku tell anyone this or otherwise do anything with this information? I feel like he did not.

Does Ikkaku have a security clearance???????

I would not give Ikkaku a security clearance

If I were going 100% by the manga, I would assume that Yoruichi ghosted after they failed to arrest Aizen, given that she's still very much banished, but in Honey Dish Rhapsody, she apparently hung around with Soi Fon for a while. Is it possible that she had some meetings with the Gotei higher ups in the interests of re-establishing a relationship/working on getting the banishment reversed? My heart wants to say no, but Yoruichi often makes herself freely available to the Gotei in filler arcs, so who knows?

When the Advance Team first goes to the Living World, Renji goes to stay at Urahara's in the interest of "asking" Urahara why he put the hogyoku in Rukia (I assume "asking" is a euphemism for breaking his nose). I feel like this could be the natural follow-on to the idea that Renji just got handed a file of classified info related to this mission and is freshly Hot Mad at this dude he didn't know existed up until now.

Presumably, Rukia also could have given Renji a more detailed version of her time in Karakura in a non-official capacity

Presumably also, the Karakura kids could have gone around telling anyone who would listen about their Mysterious Shop Keeper Friend

I think the answer I'm leaning towards is that the Gotei higher-ups knew about Urahara's involvement and re-established communication with him, possibly in an obfuscated way so as not to run into trouble with Central 46 (fairly easy to do, since they were dead at the time). It's a pretty poorly kept secret, but on the other hand, Gotei op-sec seems to lean pretty heavily on the assumption that people who accidentally learn state secrets don't know what they are looking at and will most likely forget it in a day or two anyway.

[mydemonsdrivealimo]

hnnggg jensen and bryce med school au

[starryjake]

all yours | p.j

in which you make jay feel better after he gets into a fight.

pairing: jay x fem!reader

includes: m and f receiving oral sex, mention of fighting, big dick jay, unprotected sex, cumming inside (lmk if i missed anything).

“i can’t believe you, jay,” you said in dismay, pulling out your first aid kid from the closet.

“he was such a fucking asshole,” jay ranted. “douchebag had the audacity to say the shit he was saying and didn’t expect me to beat the shit out of him.”

you huffed, forcing him to sit on your bathroom countertop. you stood between his legs and started wiping the blood from his face while he continued talking.

“he was such a pussy,” jay scoffed. “could hardly fight for shit. needed his friends to back him up since he couldn’t throw a punch for the life of him. and i still beat him in a three versus one fight. embarrassing. honestly, i feel bad fo—”

“jay,” you interrupted, finally getting him to stop talking. “what did the guy even say?”

jay’s jaw clenched as the words repeated in his mind again, the words that made him angry enough to punch the guy right across the face in front of everyone at the party he was at.

“it doesn’t matter,” he grumbled.

“yes, it does,” you argued. “if it was bad enough for you to get in a fight then it does matter.”

jay sighed, speaking quickly when he said, “he was talking about you. disrespecting you. making comments about your body and how since you put out for me, then you’d put out for anyone. i couldn’t just stand there and not do anything, y/n.”

your eyebrows raised. you hadn’t realized that it even had anything to do with you.

“oh,” you said.

you rubbed some ointment over the spots on jay’s face where he was bleeding. he looked up at you in awe, still in dismay over how someone could say such nasty things about you when he knew that all you were was just a sweet, perfect girl.

“no one talks about my girl like that,” he said softly, reaching out to plant his hands on your hips and pull you in a little closer.

you laughed softly through your nose, placing a bandaid on his cheek.

“i’m not your girl,” you reminded.

sure, you weren’t officially dating, but it sure felt like it at times like this. you and jay were…something. not dating, but definitely not just friends.

in a perfect world, you would be dating, but it didn’t seem possible right now.

“i don’t care if you aren’t my girlfriend,” jay said. “you are my girl. you’re mine.”

“okay,” you whispered, your breath fanning his face.

“say it,” he demanded.

“i’m yours,” you said shyly. “all yours.”

jay pulled you in even closer and connected his lips to yours, completely melting at the feeling. he considered himself a strong, tough man, but if there was anything in the world that made him weak, it was you.

he entangled his fingers in your hair, lips moving slowly and carefully against yours, feeling you and tasting you.

you brought your hands down to his firm thighs, resting them there and slowly feeling the fabric of his jeans grow tighter and tighter.

he wrapped his arms around your waist, pressing you against him. he disconnected his lips from yours, moving down to your chin and to your neck. he sucked on the sensitive skin there, leaving bruises right for everyone to see without a care. he needed everyone to know who you belonged to.

you gripped the fabric from the back of his t-shirt and started pulling it up until he pulled away from you in order to take it off all together, leaving him shirtless on your bathroom counter.

unashamed, you took a good look. you shouldn’t have thought he looked good like this. he’d just gotten in a fight but fuck, he looked hot. his lip was split and there was a cut on his upper cheek. he looked all around bruised and it was turning you on more than you would like to admit.

he suddenly stood up from the counter and picked you up like you weighed nothing, easily scooping you into his arms. you buried your head in his neck and inhaled his musky scent as he started walking to your bedroom.

once there, he laid you down on your bed carefully and pressed his half naked body down against yours. you slithered your arms around his neck, pulling him back down to your lips.

he was warm pressed against you, but you needed more. you needed to be even closer to him.

you trailed your hand down his bare torso before landing at his bulge, palming him over his covered erection.

jay sighed into your mouth, pushing his cock into your hand to get more pressure. you squeezed it, feeling the outline clearly from how hard he was.

it didn’t take long for that to not be enough, so jay sat up on his knees in order to unbutton his jeans and pull them down his legs, leaving him in just his black boxers.

you tugged down the waistband enough to release his cock, so hard that it stood straight up. it was long and absolutely the perfect fit for your mouth and hole, like you and jay were truly meant to be.

just looking at his cock and feeling it pulsate in your grip, you craved it in your mouth. plus the way he was looking at you starting to jerk it off made you want to suck him off even more.

you leaned down, holding the shaft as you brought the enlarged tip in your mouth, pressing it against your tongue.

“fuck,” jay grunted, immediately bringing his hand down to your hair to pull it back into a ponytail, keeping it out of your face so considerately for you.

you pushed him further down your throat, squeezing your thighs together at the comforting feeling of having him in your mouth. this was exactly you wanted, to be this close to him.

as you hollowed your cheeks and began gliding your mouth up and down his shaft, he started sliding your sweater up your torso until it was bunched around your neck. you were wearing a thin little lacy bra that barely covered your tits.

jay squeezed your breasts as he stared down at your sucking him off like it was your job. never in his life has he gotten a blowjob even close to the way you gave blowjobs. you seemed like you actually enjoyed it, sucking his cock. you put your all into it while the other girls he’d been with barely sucked it for five minutes, desperate to just get fucked by him.

but you were everything. you enjoyed having the tip of his cock nudge against the back of your throat. you enjoyed the taste of his salty precum dripping down your throat.

you looked up at him through your lashes, moaning around his length like it was pleasuring you to suck him off. this is why you were his favorite.

“shit, baby,” he moaned.

he pulled you by your hair off his dick, caressing your face with his thumb while you caught your breath. he looked down at you in awe, feeling so undeserving to have you treat him so good.

he laid you down on your back and tugged you pants and underwear down in one go. he spread your legs, staring at your pussy which was already wet just from giving him head. he couldn’t resist it, he just had to have a taste.

leaning forward, he licked a stripe up from the bottom of your pussy to your clit, gathering all your wetness on his tongue as he went.

“fuck, jay,” you moaned so prettily.

he lapped at your cunt, his tongue making a wet sound every time he flicked your folds. your body felt like it was engulfed in flames from the sensation of him eating your pussy.

jay gripped your thighs, keeping them from closing in and squeezing around his head. he looked so fucking good between your legs, you couldn’t believe it. his sharp jawline was accentuated as he used the muscles to lick your folds up and down.

he brought his clit into your mouth, sucking on the pretty little nub before releasing it with a pop and going back to licking up and down your soaked slit.

the bruises on his face were more evident now with the time that had passed and you felt bad, partly feeling like it was your fault. you tugged on his hair, pulling him away from your pussy and forcing him to look at you. you traced your fingers over one of the bruises.

“what’s wrong?” he asked, noticing the way your demeanor changed.

“does it hurt?” you wondered.

“no,” he lied.

his face was pulsating. you knew he was lying too.

he sat up on his knees and you joined him at his level, leaning in to his face to plant a soft kiss on each one of his bruises. he absolutely melted, leaning into your touch like you were healing his wounds with just a kiss.

“my sweet girl,” he whispered in utter dismay.

how you could go from getting head from him to kissing his bruises in less than a minute was beyond him.

“please fuck me now,” you whispered back.

and now you were back to being dirty.

jay smirked, pushing you back down onto your mattress. you two rid yourselves out of your remaining clothes until you were both entirely naked.

jay slid his hand up and down his cock a few times before deeming it ready to be inside you. he lined his dripping tip up with your eager hole and slowly pushed inside, feeling your warm walls envelope him.

your eyes were clenched shut from the same pain you always endured when jay first slid inside. he was just too big, but it was one of your favorite things about him. by that point, you two had been fucking each other long enough that you were used to the pain. it didn’t last long anymore.

once he was bottomed out inside of you, he rubbed your stomach, feeling the tip of his cock bulge against your pelvis.

“please,” you whimpered, raising your hips up in desperation.

“i know, sweetheart,” he cooed, caressing your soft skin.

he pulled out slightly before pushing back in, starting his thrusts slow. you threw your head back as he fucked you deeply. you could feel it so much, every time he pushed his cock in and pulled it out, the friction against your walls.

as his thrusts sped up, he brought his fingers down in between your bodies and started rubbing your clit, adding to your pleasure. you clenched around him already.

“feels so fucking good,” you cried, looking up at him above you.

“i know, angel,” he replied deeply. “you’re always so tight for me. so tight and so warm for me, yeah?”

“yeah,” you nodded pathetically, clenching around him again just from the way he was talking to you.

his pace was much swifter then, fast enough that the sound of his legs hitting the back of your thighs echoed in your bedroom. plus, you were moaning like it was your first time getting fucked by him, but it just felt too good every single time. his dick was too good, good enough that you wished you could be his girlfriend.

“you’re so fuckin’ wet,” he grunted. “i can barely keep my fingers on your clit.”

your arousal was literally spilling out around his cock, making your puffy clit almost too slippery to keep his fingers on. you wrapped your hand around his wrist and kept it against your pussy so they wouldn’t slip. jay groaned out at that, at how effortlessly fucking sexy you were.

jay started fucking you as hard as he could then, needing to make a complete mess out of you because you made a complete mess out of him without even trying.

he pounded into your pussy, drilling you into your mattress and all you could do was take it and whine like a cock slut. you did feel like at times, you were a slut for his cock.

“fuck yes!” you cried, nails clawing into his abs. “fuck me! harder, jay!”

he gripped the top of your headboard and fucked you impossibly harder, your entire body jolting with the effort he was giving. your tits bounced right in front of him and his cock twitched, warning that he could cum soon.

“fuuuuck, baby,” he growled, grabbing one of your tits in his hands and squeezing harshly. “love this dick, don’t you? tell me you love it.”

“yes, jay!” you yelled. “shit, i love your dick. oh my god, i need you to fuck me for the rest of my life.”

jay felt like he could black out. you were so perfect.

his abs clenched and he felt it coming fast.

“i’m gonna fucking cum,” he warned, his hips still slamming into you. “where do you want me, baby?”

“inside me!”

jay thought he actually did black out then.

he felt you clench around him suddenly, reaching your orgasm without even telling him. your eyes filled with tears from the mere pleasure of it.

“that’s it, baby,” he cooed, still furiously chasing his own orgasm.

“i love you,” you moaned out as you came around his cock.

jay let out a deep moan, felt his cock twitch one more time inside you, and then he was dumping his big load right inside your pussy.

“i love you,” he replied, holding you close to him as he released everything he had into you.

he came for what felt like a lifetime, intense and exhausting. as soon as he finished, he felt like he couldn’t even keep himself upright anymore.

he pulled out of you, watching the cum spill from your pussy and onto your sheets. he then laid down beside you, pulling you into his chest and kissing the top of your head.

“you’re perfect,” he told you, squeezing you tight and keeping you close. “i love you so much.”

“i love you more,” you mumbled tiredly against his chest.

a few minutes passed without either of you saying anything. he wasn’t sure if you fell asleep or not but he spoke up again anyway.

“i wish you really could be mine.”

-

wait the lore tho?? like why can’t they date!!! idk lowkey thinking of making this a series IDK GUYS!!!

thank you for reading <33

[onmyyan]

hi again i'm the Anon who asked if you take commisions only or requests as well. I love your writing style<3

Soo could you write about Batmom reader, where reader took care of bruce's children as her own. But then bruce gets a mistress, reader still stays becuz of the kids but when everyone started to become cold to her and insult her ' X (mistress) is better mom then you ever were' she leaves gonthem. Then everyone realises she (mistress) was just after their money. They go to batmom's room to apologize only to find it empty. They try to find her everywhere but couldn't. And finally when they do, reader rejects them since she was having the time of her life without responsibilty but gets kiddnapped by the batfam?

Honestly i wanted to commision but i'm flat broke and i'm too busy studying to work and on top of that i don't have my own phone (i use my dad's old laptop) soo yeah... I hope you consider this.

A/N: Loooove this request thank you for sending it in <3 fem reader yandere themes lmk if you want a part two

The (L/n)'s were a wealthy and prominent family in Gotham, right up there with the Wayne's when it came to power over the city, the two families were in business together which is why when Bruce Wayne personal attorney came to you with a marriage proposal, you weren't surprised.

A marriage of convenience. You thought you knew what this would entitle, you knew this wasn't out of love, that this was required of you, it had nothing to do with what you actually wanted, but you were dutiful and signed, inking your name on the paper felt like a deal with the devil.

Bruce hadn't bothered to officially meet you until the day of the wedding, it was beautiful and well done but lacking any form of love of affection, CEOs and other rich folk you didn't recognize filled the pews, the ring felt cold when he slipped it on, his vows perfectly rehearsed, and not an ounce of warmth in his eyes, you knew that night you should have annulled the marriage, but something made you hold on, something your mother had said to you as the makeup artist turned you into the visage of a bride.

"You'll learn to love each other, your father and I did after all." And she wasn't lying, your parents married for convenience as well but had grown to love one another, so maybe you could do the same?

A year after the nuptials Dick Grayson is thrust into your life. Haley's circus was famous in Gotham for its incredible death defying shows, but on this night death would walk the stage, taking with them Dick Grayson's parents in a horrible display, You and Bruce had consoled the boy for only a moment before Bruce was talking to the officers, he'd decided Dick was coming home with you, of course without asking your opinion, but it didn't matter, you felt such pity and grief for the boy, it made perfect sense to you, he was shut down for the first few months, he called you by your name and you had no problem with it, making it clear you never wanted to try and replace his mother, the ice between you two melted one day, one kind word at a time, he couldn't help but confide in you about school or his friends, because you were more emotionally there than Bruce was.

Like the night you caught him sneaking out, a packed bag in hand and the keys to one of Bruce's many cars in his hand. Instead of yelling for Bruce or Alfred you simply smiled at him, "you should take the audi, it's the safest car here."

"..You're not going to try and stop me?"

You shake your head no, still offering that kind smile.

"You know yourself best Dick, if you're unhappy here I won't stop you from finding your peace." He took a moment before tossing you the keys and reluctantly making his way back inside.

You find out about Batman because of Dick. He'd come home with some nasty bruises and it wouldn't take long to put two and two together. Them both being missing at the same time, Dick started to pull away from you, one night, after hours of trying to get to sleep in a bed much to big for one body, your legs decided a walk was necessary, the halls were dark and quiet, giving the manor an eerie air, quietly you walked the long hallways intending on stopping by the library, as you turned the corner you seen Dick in a hidden elevator, the doors just slamming shut as your eyes tried to register what was there. Seconds after the doors close a wall appears, as if nothing was ever there. It's not long after that you see a brief news clip of the caped crusader and his new sidekick, because the longer you stared at the screen, the more familiar they began to look, that dead tight lipped scowl on Batman's face, it was one you'd had the pleasure of looking at for the past few years.

That night you confronted Bruce, he seemed surprised you'd figured it out, but he didn't deny it. Simply saying, "It's late (Y/n), get some sleep."

You nearly divorced him then and there for endangering a child the way he was, but after a moment of thought, you realized Dick would need a real parent around so you stayed, making Bruce swear to be careful.

Jason comes next and he takes to you a lot faster than Dick. He craved the warmth you offered, you two had inside jokes and a closer relationship than him and Bruce, but that all changes the day he dies. You're broken, a ghost haunting the manor with your presence, and Bruce is no comfort throwing himself into the Batman role, you begin to hate him a little with this particular betrayal.

Tim was another hard egg to crack but you were desperate after Jason's death, so you took his verbal lashings with a smile, were always there to offer a helping hand with any of his projects despite the help never being accepted. Tims wound from losing his father is too raw, he takes a lot of his anger out on you. And you weathered the storm with a soft, warm smile.

Damian hated you, from the moment he arrives, which is bitter enough as is because it meant Bruce was unfaithful, he's spitting out insults and comparing you to his 'perfect' mother.

Things weren't great in your life, but one day they started getting noticably worse. Dick no longer responded to your check in texts, Jason (now reanimated which was a heart attack in and of itself) saw you as the enemy, you didn't leave Bruce after what happened to him, so in his eyes you betrayed him, Tim ignored your existence as best as he could, and Damian? He'd started staring at you with this smug look on his face, like he knew something you didn't.

Bruce had all but ran from you, he didn't sleep in your shared room anymore, he barely spoke to you at breakfast, if it wasn't for the cameras he wouldn't touch you.

And it's all because of a woman named Rachel.

Apparently Bruce had introduced this woman to the family, bringing her around when you weren't, slowly replacing you, it was no wonder they started to pull back.

Alfred is the only reason you find out, having enough of the blatant disrespect, he calls you to come home early one day saying it's a dire matter. Of course you comply, and walk in on a discomforting sight. The whole family was gathered at the dining room table, plus a woman you'd never seen before, she sat close to Bruce, toying with his hand intimately. Her green eyes lock with yours and the smile she gives you forms a pit in your stomach.

There's silence before Bruce stands up, he walks over calmly, "Can we take this in the other room." But it wasn't phrased as a question.

"No" you licked your lips, a nervous habit from your youth. Bruce seemed taken back by your sudden backbone. He nods silently.

"I want her gone Bruce. I am your wife. You will show me that semblance of respect."

"I- of course." You don't wait for the words to settle instead, you calmly walk to your room, face unreadable.

Locking the door behind you, your body slides against the frame, a silent sob wracks your frame, your hands covering your mouth, you wouldn't give them the satisfaction of hearing your cries.

The next morning you wake up to breakfast in bed, a generic yet elegant spread of food lay on a tray in the empty spot Bruce used to stay. The man himself sitting in the chair beside the bed, staring at you with that practiced smile he used to appease people.

"Good morning."

"What's this?" You sat up straight, sleep evaporating from your form as you took in the threat before you.

"An apology. I never meant for yesterday to happen."

"What a comfort that is." Your piercing (e/c) eyes stare at him blankly, unreadable. "How long."

"A year." You scoff pushing the breakfast away from you like it was poisonous. "But its not what you think, Rachel is a childhood friend, a year ago our relationship, evolved into what it is now, but I was never intending to go behind your back."

"Ah of course, your intentions were pure." The words dripped venom, grabbing your robe you quickly dress before standing and walking to the door, "Thank you for the wonderful talk Bruce, really your people skills are top notch." Your hands gesture to the door. He leaves without a word.

The rest of the day is as usual, Bruce avoids you like the plague, the rest of the family acted as if you weren't there. Which made leaving all too easy.

Your lawyers had the divorce papers ready and hour after you called them, signing them felt like the first act of self love you'd done in years. Slipping them into Bruce's study you took the time to analyze the room you never entered.

It matched Bruce that's for sure, pictures of every single person in the family. All except for you.

Walking out the door, wrapped in your ankle length black faux fur coat, the garment whipped in the wind, the designer sunglasses on your face hid your eyes from the world, hair in a slicked back bun, your heels echoed against the pavement, a sleek black car was waiting for you, you look back at the house that had caused you so much misery then got in the back of the car, never looking back.

Life goes on for about a week, your absence goes unnoticed, that is before Rachel is trying and failing to blackmail Bruce out of a billion dollars, she'd collected evidence he was cheating on you with her and presented it to Bruce with a grin, it was only as he went through the pictures of himself and Rachel, did he notice the yellow envelope with his name written on the front.

Hey puts the heartbreaking matter of Rachel's betrayal on the back burner, Bruce opened the envelope and felt his heart completely stop at the word divorce written in bold lettering across the top, your signature was already there, waiting for his to join it.

Ignoring Rachel completely now he turns in his chair, turning the paper over and over as if it would magically change. But it remained the same. Alfred knocking on the door of his study broke him from his trance. "Master Wayne, miss Rachel." He says the latter's name with no warmth. "Escort Rachel to her car Alfred."

"Bruce have you heard a word I've said? I'm serious I'll go to Gotham daily right now if you don't -"

"Now Alfred."

That was all it took for the screaming woman to be firmly escorted off the premises. Bruce all but ran to your room, he didn't bother knocking, and despite knowing in his heart you were already gone, he couldn't help but check anyway.

Your room was empty and cold, he couldn't believe the date he'd read on the divorce papers, it was dated a week ago, meaning you'd been gone for a week and he hadn't noticed. No one had.

That is until Bruce remembers there's someone in the house nothing gets by.

"How long have you known she was gone Alfred?" He asks leaning on his knuckles the divorce papers stared back at him taunting him. "Since the moment she left." The older man replied simply his hands behind his back. "Why didn't you tell me immediately?" Bruce felt himself tense, "Because you've hurt that woman enough Bruce. She deserves at least this." He gestures to the daunting divorce paperwork before turning to leave Bruce with his thoughts.

The news of Rachel's betrayal shook the manor each member feeling violated by their trust being broken. But it was nothing compared to their reaction once they finally realized you were gone.

"That was rough." Jason says after watching Rachel being dragged out of the manor, he blew air out of his cheeks arms crossed over his chest, he looked towards the hallway that lead to your room, you had to have heard that he thought to himself.

Dick sighs through his nose, "Someone should check on (y/n), Rachel was screaming so loud she definitely heard that." No one volunteers so Dick rolls his eyes and heads towards your room.

He lifts his hands to knock but noticed the door was open, pushing it further he's met with a baren room, his brow furrowed in confusion before he makes his way to Bruce's study. "Hey B, have you seen (y/n)? Her room is like weirdly empty."

Dick found his Father where Alfred left him, leaning over the divorce papers silently a storm in his eyes.

As he steps closer and reads the paperwork Bruce was staring so intently at, his heart stopped.

"Holy shit- are those real?"

"Yes." Bruce finally spoke his voice horse. There was a moment of silence before Dick left the room practically running down the stairs to alert the others.

"(Y/n) left Bruce." He said still processing the information, "No fuckin' way." Jason says pushing himself off the counter he leaned on. "Her room is empty and he has the papers, she's gone."

Each member of the family had different reactions to this information.

Dick tries calling you only to be met with a disconnected number, his heart hammering in his chest, he wasn't as close to you as when he was younger sure, but you were a constant in his life, always had been, a pillar of support, and suddenly you weren't. It felt like the floor had gotten pulled out from under him.

Jason curses under his breath, his mind working a mile a minute, he had barely spoken to you since his Resurrection, something he deeply regretted as the information of your leaving sinks in like a brick thrown into a river.

Tim, ever calculating is trying to figure out where you went, you were a figurehead in his life, someone that was literally never not there, sure he wasn't close to you in the slightest but that doesn't mean he wants anything to happen to you, someone as quiet and soft as you on your own in Gotham? It didn't sit well with him. Not one bit.

Damian didn't know what he was feeling at the news, he supposed he should feel nothing, after all you were nothing to him, but there was this nagging feeling in his chest that he couldn't quite place. And he hated it. How dare you leave and upset his fragile ecosystem?

Meanwhile in the Bahamas, far from Gotham and the neglectful family you'd left behind, you sat lounging on a private beach, a knitted hammock cradles your body, a designer baby pink bikini covers you, a matching sunhat protects your face from the hot sun, you can't wipe the smile from your face, humming a tune from your childhood you barely flinch when someone takes the seat besides your hammock.

"Do I want to know how you found me?" You ask, eyes still closed as you bask in the warmth. You knew only one person had the sources to find you on your own island, and despite how much you resent the man, even his presence can't ruin your shine in this moment.

"You're my wife (Y/n), I'll always know where you are." Bruce speaks softly as if trying not to startle you. "Former wife." You correct cracking an eye open, a small smirk curling on your lips.

"Not until I sign those papers- which I never will."

"huh, I thought you'd be thrilled." You muse to yourself before folding your tanning mirror and setting it aside, you take off your Louis Vuitton sunglasses, blinking your pretty (e/c) eyes up at him, "Figured you and your little Twinkie would have tied the knot by now." You laugh softly, the sound, unfamiliar to Bruce, sent warm shivers down his spine, it causes his lips to quirk up in a small grin.

"She's gone."

"Well, I don't care."

There's a beat of silence before he's offering you his hand. "Will you walk with me? I know I don't deserve it."

You sigh before getting up, ignoring his hand, you nod your head reluctantly, "Well? Hurry up I've got dinner at six."

His smile remains as he begins leading you along the shoreline. It's relatively quiet between you two as you walk side by side, a peace between you both you hadn't ever felt. "The manor isn't the same without you." He breaks the silence, "I sincerely doubt that." You laugh at the very notion. "It's true- it's colder, quieter, I want you to come home."

"That was never my home, you made that abundantly clear."

He winces as if your words cut him, "I know I haven't been a good man to you, I know I've failed you time and time again but I..I looked at those divorce papers and my heart stopped." He admits running a hand through his hair.

"You can't leave me."

"I can't?." You scoff, your movement halting, "I'm a grown woman- I'm taking responsibility for my own happiness, you can't stop me."

"I wasn't asking." He says softly, his hands in his pockets, he had this fond look on his face, like he was staring at you for the first time, in a whole new light. "You can't make me." You say, brows furrowed, "You belong back home, you're supposed to be with me, till death do us part, remember?" He steps forward making you step back, your eyes wide, hands shaking, you back into a wide chest, spinning to face Dick, who's grinning at you, he's in his Nightwing costume, he gives you a small wave of his hand, you scrunch your face in confusion, "What the hell-" your thought is cut off by a small pinch in your neck, the needle in Bruce's hand is empty in seconds, he's cradling your stumbling form, holding you tightly, "Don't worry - I'll fix this."

Your sleeping body is gently carried to the batplane, Bruce holding you close to his chest as Dick pilots the plane, he whispers promises into your hair, rocking you against him as he swears on his life to make things right, weather you liked it or not.

[arcadia-of-pluto]

Casually calling them "daddy" LADS

Word count; 1,913

Themes; slightly barely there suggestive content, fluff, established relationship

Warnings; mention of "daddy" ofc, fluff

Notes; So these turned out more fluffy than I originally intended...honestly, thought they'd be more smutty, but I've learnt that it's really difficult for me to write smut. Or at least, smut with little to no context before it all goes down. I might eventually write some smuttier drabbles, but regardless of smut, I hope you enjoy this little thing I wrote!

You saw that there was an old trend about calling your boyfriend “daddy” and videoing their reaction so, obviously, you wanted to give it a try…

Xavier 

It's been almost a year since you and Xavier started dating– and it was a wonderful eleven months! He told you everything about himself. What his future with you was like, all of his feelings throughout the centuries, and you listened. You wholeheartedly believed him, because it would be one hell of a lie if it wasn't true…and you didn't think Xavier had the time or energy to come up with a complex lie like that. 

But even if you now know, time moves on. There's not much you can do about your future self, so you can't really change the future in that way though…Xavier's here now, in the past, and that's all that matters to you. 

Anyway, today was just a normal day as any. 

You were sitting at the counter, keeping a close eye on Xavier– who was attempting to follow, yet another, cooking tutorial. The man was desperate to cook a decent meal for you. His heart dead set on making you something edible for your upcoming year anniversary…and while that was cute, you also wanted to mess with him. 

You push your cup just out of your reach and make a big show of trying to reach for it, before sighing loudly. 

“Daddy, can you pass me my drink please?” 

You can hear the clang of a spatula hitting the floor and you watch Xavier’s body comically whip around to face you. 

“What?” His head cocks to the side as his wide eyes were set on your face. “Say that again..”

“Hmm? I said ‘Xav, can you pass me my drink, please’.” You copy his head tilt and he quickly shakes his head.

 “No, no you didn't.” He takes a few steps toward you before grabbing your hand in-between both of his. “Say it again.” 

You couldn't resist his sweet puppy dog eyes, so you hold back a smile as you meet his eyes. “I...called you daddy.” 

“Really?” He seems unusually excited. “So are we…?” His gaze lowers to your stomach and you can’t help the giggle that slips from your lips. 

Gosh, he was so cute. 

“Baby– no, no. We're not pregnant.” You run your fingers through his hair with a smile on your lips. “Are...you disappointed?” 

“Mmh..” Xavier hums thoughtfully for a moment before he shakes his head. “No. We can just make it a reality later. No need to rush.” 

Zayne 

You and Zayne have only been dating for six months, but it felt like much longer. Having known each other since you were little, you both had always been close– well, your definition of close and his were probably different. You always thought of him as a friend while he tried to keep a distance and thought you hated him. But time brought you both back together with him as your primary care physician. 

The two of you had been flirting up until his birthday and finally made it official once he blew his candles out on the cake you made for him. It was a sweet time, but that was six months ago. 

Now, though, you really want to fluster the man. 

He always embarrasses you and makes you feel nervous, but you never get to see him that way. Sure, his ears will turn red and sometimes he won't meet your eyes when you get too intense with him, but you've never seen him absolutely shocked. And you just wanted to see one look of surprise from him. 

So, what did you decide to do? 

You decided to casually call him "daddy” as a joke.

That should definitely go over well. 

Zayne is seated behind his desk at the hospital, sorting through papers as you longue on his sofa. Your eyes continuously glancing toward the windows to make sure the door was shut and the blinds were closed. 

“If you keep staring at the door, you just might burn a hole through it.” Zayne says, though he didn't even look up from his paperwork. He was attentive like that and probably already knew you wanted something or you were ready to go home. And he was right. 

“When are we going home…daddy?” You ask as you kick your feet in the air behind you. You were on your stomach, resting your cheek against your arms as you watched his expression…which didn't change at all. 

"Just give me a few more minutes, angel, and I'll be done.” Zayne pushes his glasses up with his index finger and clicks his pen, jotting down a few notes. 

“I–” You puff your cheeks out with a small sigh and decide to keep going with it. “I want to go home now, daddy.”

“Didn't I just tell you to be patient?” Now Zayne finally looks up at you with one of his brows raised. “I'll deal with you when we get home.” 

Rafayel 

It's been four months since Rafayel asked you out. Four months since you tugged Rafayel down into the bath with you, which set off a chain reaction of a steamy night, followed by him asking you out the next morning; he also complained that you both went out of order, but he wasn’t too upset when you continued where you left off…

Now, though, you moved out of your apartment and to Rafayel's home, ‘Mo Art Studio’ at Whitesand Bay. 

It was definitely odd at first, but it was a good change of pace. Always being by the ocean, able to take your morning walks together on the beach and collect seashells. You had a whole collection on your desk at work. He'd always give you the most unique and prettiest shells, saying “only the best for his cutie”. 

He was also so easy to fluster. 

You immediately knew you had him wrapped around your finger every time his ears would turn red. That same crimson slowly made its way from his ears to his cheeks, all the way to his whole face. So you assumed your little ‘prank’ would also have the same effect. 

You were sitting on a beach towel in the sand with an umbrella blocking your eyes from the bright sun. In front of you was Rafayel, painting your visage, with an easel. His hand deftly moves across the canvas as he sketches the outline for his new painting. 

Lately, you are the only thing he can paint. Always asking you to stop what you're doing so he can run and get his sketch pad. You could be doing something so normal and mundane, but he'd be struck with the inspiration to record your very image. 

As much as you loved it and thought this was very sweet, after almost two weeks of this…You wanted some form of payback. 

“Hey, daddy, can we take a break for a second? It’s really hot out here.” You squint your eyes to try and see Rafayel's face, your hand fanning at your body because you, seriously, are hot out here. 

“Huh?” 

It's like Rafayel is frozen in time, or buffering. He's just blankly staring at you with a confused expression on his face until his pencil drops into the sand. That's when he quickly stands up  and makes his way toward you. 

“Again.” 

Now, it's your turn to be confused. 

“Raf, what–” 

“Not that, say the other word again.” His ears were red as he crouched down in front of you, a look of determination in his eyes. 

“No– you're making it weird!” You put your hands on his shoulders, trying to put some distance between him as your face turns red. 

“Please, I really need to hear you say it again! I'm seriously going to die if you don't.” There's your overdramatic fishy. 

“Fine, but just this once.” You grumble, turning your head to look away from him. “Daddy…” Though you say it as low as you can and Rafayel groans, tilting his head back. 

“Louder.” He rests his forehead against yours. “Come on, cutie. If you don't…I might want to change that to my new nickname.”

Sylus

It's been about…a year? Yes, definitely a year since you and Sylus started dating. Well, you both have differing opinions on when exactly you started dating. Sylus claims it was the moment he laid eyes on you in the N109 Zone, while you claim it was only about six months ago– which is when you and Sylus made a bet. 

It was a bet where if he came back safely from his mission, he'd leave you alone. He wouldn't bother you anymore, wouldn't talk to you, contact you, anything of the sort…and you won, but you didn't realize he'd actually do it. So whenever you seeked him out to make sure he was safe, and he ignored you, you realized that maybe you did want him in your life. 

This led to you running across the street to him and jumping into his arms like this was a hallmark movie, and you claim this was when you officially started dating Sylus.

But between us, you just agree with Sylus when he says a year, because if you don't, he'll pout for the whole day. 

...And today was one of those ‘pouty Sylus’ days. 

You went on a mission that was probably way too dangerous, even though you told Sylus you were going to slow down on your Hunter's work. But you couldn't just ignore endangered civilians. If any of them would have died, that would've been too much for your sympathetic heart to handle. 

And even if Sylus understands your reasoning, he's still upset that you left without telling him– having woken up to a cold bed without you by his side sent him spiraling into a panic. 

So, when you got home, you noticed he was sulking in the kitchen as he made dinner. 

“Sy…” You take your shoes off by the door, nervously fiddling with your fingers as you tentatively walk into the kitchen. Standing behind the counter, you sigh, “I'm reeaally sorry...” 

“If you're reeaaally sorry, then help me make our dinner.” He says, not looking up at you and that doesn't make you feel any better. 

“Okay..” You finally step past the counter and you look around. “So…what do you need?” You were trying to figure out something– anything that could make Sylus feel better when a thought comes to your mind. 

Most guys probably like it when their girlfriend calls them daddy…right? 

“In the cabinet, top shelf. I need a bottle of garlic powder.” 

Okay, you got this. 

You take a deep breath and open the cabinet, straining your arm to try and reach the seasoning bottle, but your fingertips barely brush it and knock it over. “Shit…” You swallow back your nervousness before continuing, “Daddy, can you grab it for me?” 

The room fills with silence for a moment, but then you hear Sylus chuckle. 

“Sure, kitten.” 

Your back suddenly feels warm as a firm chest presses against it and Sylus reaches up from behind you to grab the bottle. 

“I ask you to do one simple thing and you can't even do that.” Sylus chides, clicking his tongue as he pops the bottle open to pour some into the pan on the stove. 

“Da–”

“If you think a few empty words will make me feel better, kitten…you've got to try a lot harder than that.” 

I'd like to say, this is definitely one of my better drabbles– one of my favorites, in fact!

I have like...six more ideas for drabbles and then I'll need to come up with some more. Like these new cards and Rafayel's student photoshoot event really had me thinking of how seriously the LADS men would take roleplaying– and that spawned a whole different drabble idea, so you can definitely look forward to that!

I'm trying to come up with new ways to do my drabbles, so that's why I did a little prelude before I started writing for the guys. Please let me know any feedback yall have for me! Especially with the coloured dialogue, I'm not too sure if I like it, but it seems really pretty and probably makes it easier to tell who is talking apart. (I won't use it for my fic though, only the drabbles!)

Anyway, I have a small personal project I'm working on this weekend so I probably won't be able to write any chapters for my 'Divisa' fic, but I'm still going to post chapter nineteen of 'Twist of Fate' and try to write at least two more chapters since I'm only on twenty-three or so.

I hope you all enjoyed these drabbles and I hope yall have a great night/day! 🩷

[everytimewetouch-dot-mp3]

christ more dragon god sy yapping:

all those b-points he got from finishing that first quest? gone. my mans got like 100 every time he blessed a new generation of peak lords, plus the 500 he got from finishing that first main quest {From the Ground Up}, plus whatever he got from fighting off all those beasties who tried to kill his little cultivators way back when.

but when he unlocks his human form, he does not unlock clothes, and he has to buy them from the system store! truly unfair! he looks pretty similar to how he looked in his first life, just a little less sickly. he also has to buy a sword from the system, which is frankly bullshit. but lanrui is a lovely sword—an almost pearlescent sheen to the blade, with peach blossoms inlaid in the hilt and a dragon scale sheath that…it’s almost certainly made from his scales, actually. weird. after buying everything he needs from the bullshit system’s scam shop, he’s left with about 150 B-points.

after his magical girl transformation from gigantic dragon god to gangly human wrapped in way too many layers of sumptuous green and blue silks, shen yuan is sent off the mountain on a couple of missions from the system. pop into the demon realm to slay this evil, fend off these fierce corpses attacking this little town—tutorial shit. it’s weird having such a small body again after six (or seven hundred???? he’s not thinking about the enormity of time right now) years as a gigantic dragon. his steps feel a thousand times lighter, and the first time he tries to pick a fruit from a tree, he kind of explodes it with spiritual energy. the tutorial is, unfortunately, necessary.

the system is almost helpful when it shares his stats and all his cool dragon skills. his official name here is lord canglong, but honestly it would be so hard to explore this world if people were falling all over themselves when they heard his names. did dragon gods get personal names before courtesy too? fighting with the system gets him a corny, half-assed compromise.

he still gets to be shen yuan, but while his first life’s yuan was 垣 yuán (wall), in his second life it’s 愿 yuàn (desire, hope), and the shen he has is… very transparently 神, shén (god, deity). he’s got stupid amounts of spiritual energy, he doesn’t need to eat or drink, and sometimes plants bloom around him since he’s the also kind of the god of springtime?

right when he gets excited thinking about how he’s a god!! (the dragon god in PIDW!! that bastardization of qinglong that airplane wrote who never did shit to defend the realms until his mountain was being destroyed by binghe merging them!!) the system butts in to remind him that there are limitations. he can’t kill humans except in certain circumstances or else he’ll be punished, which—fine, he didn’t plan to go around murdering people anyway? his dragon form will be locked whenever he’s not on canglong peak (bullshit!! what kind of half assed nerfing—) and there’s a permanent penalty on his account, [Dragon Ex Machina], that threatens to penalize him if he uses his dragon god powers to bully the plot into going his way.

so what’s the point of being a dragon god, then!?!??!?!

he spends days bickering debating with the system while he learns to use his sword and qi without exploding whatever he touches, but the system refuses to budge. if he tries to bully the plot too much, he’ll be punished. it’s bullshit, but so is this whole novel he’s found himself in, so…

shen yuan is ready to spend a few more days acclimating before he gets a game plan together but that flies out the window when something starts burning at the back of his mind, screaming that something’s wrong, something is in danger, part of his territory is threatened. he hasn’t felt that since the last demon invasion, and before he can stop himself, he’s mounted lanrui and darted off toward that feeling that something is wrong, wrong, wrong.

he ends up having blown in a wall of qing jing’s discipline hall, the tail of shen qingqiu’s whip caught in his fist (and fuck, that hurt to catch!!! his hand is definitely bleeding) as he stares down the man who was really just about to start whipping a child. a couple of disciples have gone white; a couple others have fallen over. the only ones in the room unaffected are shen yuan, luo binghe whose eyes are wide as he gazes up at him, and fucking scum villain extraordinaire, shen qingqiu. and the scum villain’s first words to him, lord canglong, dragon god of qing jing peak???

“move, or i’ll beat you too.”

[hitomisuzuya]

Secret admirer+neighbour reader that allows Scara to stay over in her room whenever shit gets rowdy at his home for whatever reason. She leaves letters of encouragement in his locker and snacks and stuff. He found it stupid at first but gave up 'reluctantly'.

But like, pls, he knows it's her. The way she looks at him, hopefully, every time he scowls a certain way, he gets a more expensive snack (within the budget of a little middle-class lady, of course), and he starts liking her a bit too...

And anyway, they get into a cute little confrontation when she cares about him a little too much, with a bit too much honesty with the cutest outfit and he's turned on and- you get the idea.

Please, praise kink. Praise my hubby🥺🥺 maybe a bit of degrading from him.

scaramouche x fem!reader. smut. porn with some plot. fluff. degradation. praise for scara. cunnilingus. for narrative purposes, college has lockers for people who live off campus.

i grinned when i read this ask. legit scaramouche would fall in love kicking and screaming reluctantly about it the whole time🤣 this is a little long.

if scaramouche had it his way, he would've chosen to live on campus at the dorms. but no, being so close to the college made his bitch mother suggest he might be more comfortable just living at home. incidentally, it was over just that issue that you meant scaramouche officially for the first time.

you swore he slammed the door loud enough to rattle to every window of his house. and yours. naturally, it startled you, being out on the porch looking at the orange and purple painted clouds of the sunset. you'd seen him around campus before, but social anxiety often came into play. and he sort of treated you like a nuisance when you tried to talk to him.

"you okay?" you asked, giving him a soft look of concern.

"huh? do you need something?" scaramouche snapped, glaring at you in a way that would've made anyone instantly fuck off.

anyone wasn't you, though. "no, it just sounds like you were fighting with someone," you replied, his glare making your cheeks flush.

"yeah, bitch mother," it was like he didn't want to dedicate the extra few seconds of time to string together a longer sentence to mention her in.

"you can come hang out with me in my room for awhile until things cool down. no one is home right now but me," you said shyly, playing with your hair in an annoying way he absolutely couldn't miss.

"uh, sure. yeah whatever, gimme a few minutes," scaramouche grumbled, turning to go back inside the house. back inside to tell his mother to fuck off one more time. he was automatically suspicious. why were you offering? what did you stand to gain from it?

he thought about these questions while he unplugged (ripped the cords out of the outlet) his xbox, and slammed the door again. threw the door to your house open, and sort of stomped up the stairs. he promptly hooked his xbox up to your tv like he was automatically entitled to it.

but you didn't mind. scaramouche always made you feel weak in the knees. you even got him to tell you what he wanted for dinner so you could make it for him.

this became almost something of a daily occurrence. an occurrence that scaramouche was startled to find how comfortable he was becoming with.

you sure are a strange one. you even sat and watched him play video games late into the night, monopolizing your tv and not really giving a shit if there was something you wanted to watch. you never said a thing if there was. dvrs exist, after all. you would cheer him on and praise him when he was playing good. you looked stuff up on your phone to help him if he got stuck on a part somewhere.

you would remind him about tests tomorrow. he told you whatever and ended up not studying. he didn't really need to honestly. thing is, though, you started leaving notes of encouragement tucked into his folders or notebooks. or left them in his locker with some sort of disgusting sweet treat. "for you to enjoy now or later. it's up to you. good luck today."

he thought it was incredibly stupid. what could you possibly gain from this nonsense? "i don't like sweets," he said, tossing a baggie of oreos on your desk. "disgusting. absolutely no thanks."

your posture stiffened a little, like you'd just been caught red handed doing something secretive. in a way, you had been. "wh-what are you talking about?" you stammered shyly, "who left you those?" you paused for a moment, twisting lock of hair around your index finger. "incidentally, what would you want for something like that?"

scaramouche almost snorted. god, you are so transparent. he knew it was you, but you are still trying to play it off like it wasn't, fidgeting nervously with your fingers. it was disgustingly adorable so he let you carry on with it in his own way. stop it.

"salted rice balls with sea weed in the middle. i like those, not the toxic waste that is chocolate. or rather horse shit," he replied, rolling his eyes.

sure enough, a few days later, salted white rice balls with seaweed in the middle appeared in his locker the next morning. "please, eat these. sorry about before. you try so hard and deserve a good treat."

fuck, fuck, fuck!

he was starting to tuck your notes into his pockets to keep with him throughout the day. some of the snacks you make him looked expensive. and you were the type to buy the ingredients and hand make them yourself. you had to have been getting up super early in the morning to make them or staying up late the night before.

and every time he called you out on it, you shyly played it off. even joking with him about him having a secret admirer, though he swore you looked a little sad at the thought of someone else liking him like you weren't talking about yourself.

even worse, scaramouche started looking at you and thinking; shit, she looks really cute today. those are thigh highs she's wearing cup her thighs perfectly. it makes me wanna..

he'd had enough when he started jacking himself off after he left your house for the night. thinking of you, the innocent girl next door who doted on him and gave him attention. who is way too sweet for her own good. with this stupid crush on him that you refused to say anything about.

how dare you make him fall in love.

you started wearing thigh highs when he mentioned casually he likes them, tempting him with a garter belt. a garter that his eyes strained to casually get a peek at if the pleats of your skirt bounced in just the right way.

he caught you on your way out the door to go the convenience/grocery store that stayed open all night, a list of ingredients and a recipe in your hand to read on the way.

"why do you do this nonsense?" scaramouche asked, snatching the slip of paper out of your hand. he couldn't help but smirk. just like he thought, there was a recipe for rice balls with eel in them and miso soup. you were even going to stop by the coffee shop and get his favorite coffee.

...

fucking hell, you are way too sweet for your own good but damn it, he enjoyed soaking up every bit of your attention now. his bitch mother even "accused" him of dating someone a few days ago. the nerve!

"i..i." you stammered shyly in a way that made him want to kiss you. really really badly. you knew you were caught. "was i that obvious?"

scaramouche snorted. "you are so obvious that you could've landed plane without waving your arms. it was actually a little pathetic," he sighed seeing your reaction. why did you do that? why did your cheeks flush when he flat out insulted you?

and that was how you ended up on your back on his bed, your legs spread and stripped almost entirely of your clothes as he crawled between your legs. "these stay on," he insisted, hooking his finger under the top of your thigh high, letting it snap back on your thigh. he'd angrily kissed you all the way up to his room, pawing at your clothes and swallowing your moans into his mouth.

you always took care of him in your room. and now he was taking care of you properly in his room. it was a chore to fight his pride, anyways. and he didn't want to fight it anymore.

having his hands holding your thighs apart while he licked slow, hungry stripes up and down your pussy was much more preferable. "desperation is good color on you, slut," he groaned, teasingly kitten licking your clit before sweeping it down to swirl around your hole. youclenched on the tip of his tongue like he imagined that you would.

"i..i can't help it," you moan shakily, squirming as you grind on his mouth, "i'm sorry. i'm so in love you with it hurts. i just..just," you are cut off when scaramouche latched his lips around your clit, letting out a gasp of pleasure. your clit tingled and throbbed as he sucked, prodding and swirling his tongue in a way that made a dizzying warmth spread through your core. "i wanted your attention."

you sound so fucking cute it made his cock ache almost painfully. did you have any idea how unbearable you made it all the fucking time? "i saw right through your pathetic attempts to woe me. praise me more, slut. it's making me hard," he groaned, drunk on the taste on your pussy soaking his tongue.

he held your pussy against his mouth as you grinded on his tongue, your fingers finding his hair and pushing his mouth down. "you are perfect, scara!" you cry out, your clit throbbing twice as hard underneath his tongue. "your tongue feels so good! you are all i ever think about!"

he could edge himself on your words praise, soaking up every word. "go on. keep going while i tongue fuck you," he moaned, focusing his tongue on your clit again.

his tongue working your pussy over like a starved animal was making you start to babble nonsense. "your so smart, and handsome and strong. your fingers are beautiful, so beautiful i want to suck on them. don't stop, please. please," you have the cutest sounding whimpers when the jolts of pleasure rocketing through you were too much for you to process.

your precious babbling spurred scaramouche's tongue on, one hand reluctantly leaving your thigh to palm and rub his cock outside his jeans. you deserve to cum hard on his tongue for sounding so sweet.

you twitch and spasm in bliss, tugging urgently on his hair. your hips bucked up to rub and grind on his mouth. you writhed on the bed, relaxing into his possessive squeeze on your thighs. it wasn't long before you couldn't keep it together anymore. or at least as together as you thought you had it. you'd broken on his tongue a long time ago.

you whimper weakly behind your shameless moans, your thighs shaking as your orgasm washed over you. it was so strong it nearly even made your fingers fall limp in his hair. his tongue lovingly fucked you through your orgasm until you were panting and shaking on the cusps of overstimulation. he lapped at your release.

"i think i found the only sweet i will enjoy," satisfied, he sat up and wiped his mouth. you are practically passed out on his bed, exhausted and overloaded. neither of you were making it to your evening classes. he planned to spend that time further devouring you once he let you sleep a little.

[satorusugurugurl]

would you able to do smth that’s pure full angst??? like angst that doesn’t lead up to smut, love your work btw!!

Choose

Summary: Gojo is forced the choose between his two best friends, Geto or you.

Characters: Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru AFAB!Reader (slightly implied??)

Warnings: angst, kidnapping, violence, torture, blood, physical abuse, pain, character death

Word Count: 3.2K

A/N: y’all wanted angst, I deliver 🙂‍↕️ enjoy your meal! Thanks @sugurubabe for your help!

The room was musky, thick was the humidity that had sweat heading against your forehead as you lay on the floor wheezing painfully before another blow hit your stomach hand. You curl into a fetal position, crying out in excruciating pain as boots crunched against broken glass that littered the floor. This wasn't how the mission was supposed to go; it was supposed to be easy!

A curse, a grade-two curse! Something both you and Suguru should have been able to handle! But it seemed as though there was no curse, none whatsoever.

What you and Suguru found waiting for you was a curse user and an assistant supervisor who had betrayed you all. Everything had happened so fast. The woman led you down a hall, revealing this supposed curse. You were in front of Suguru, listening to details and trying to sense the nonexistent cursed energy when a heavy thud sounded from behind you.

Nothing could have prepared you to see Geto on the ground out cold. The sight left you frozen in shock as your eyes darted back to the assistant supervisor holding a plank of wood stained with a bit of blood. You tried to act fast, reaching into your uniform to throw a talisman paper at the traitor, but the world went black for you. Someone hit you from behind.

When you came to, Suguru was still out, and the hats when the curse user began his shitty interrogation. He asked over and over again where Gojo was, and every time, you had a smart-ass remark. Which ended up with you getting the shit kicked out of you.

“I’ll ask you again.” The curse user barked out, crouching down next to your face. “Where is Gojo Satoru?”

Holding onto your stomach, you smirked, slowly lifting your head to look at your captor. “Your mom’s house.” Instead of a kick, the bastard backhanded you, making you wince before you cupped the side of your face, trying to hide the pain that you felt throbbing in your cheek.

“I don't like wasting time, and I don't like little liars.”

“Yeah, and I don't like assholes who beat up a couple of teenagers!” You yelled back, ignoring the iron taste that flooded your mouth.

“This is going nowhere; I thought you said the three were inseparable.”

That was true; Before the three of you were sort of a thing, going on dates, making out, sleeping together in the same bed. And that’s how it had been true until last year after the Star Plasma Vessel was killed. Ever since that fateful day, things have changed between you, mostly Gojo, but you could tell Geto was also starting to pull away too. He wasn't sleeping well, refusing to come to your room, go on dates, and you were both getting sent on more solo missions. You were honestly surprised you and Geto had been assigned this mission together, but even the two of them were slipping apart it seemed.

You’d been excited, looking forward to working together with one of your boyfriends? (Maybe you guys weren’t official yet), and had been planning to go on a soba noodles date afterward. Things were supposed to have gone differently today. What you imagined as a pleasant time with one of your best friends had turned into a literal nightmare.

You shot a glance in Geto’s direction. He was still out cold, but from the movement behind his eyes, you were hoping he was going to come soon enough. If you worked together, you might get out of this without further injuries. Until then, you just needed to continue to buy some time, and you could accomplish that by being extra annoying. You did learn from Gojo firsthand.

“T-They are—I thought they’d be assigned this together.”

“Well, he ain't here, is he?!”

“Yeah, sorry,” you spit your blood-laced saliva on the ground, “the band split up!”

“Oh did it?” The curse user asked, cocking a brow down at you.

“Yep! So I wouldn't count on him showing up anytime soon.”

That should have been enough to deter them from following through with whatever plan they had. But your words made your captor smirk. He said nothing as he reached into his pocket, tossing your phone to the traitor, before he moved fast, grabbing a handful of your hair and yanking you to your feet.

“Why don't we get the band back together then?” You tried out in pain as he slammed you back down against the floor, lifting your head an inch as he crouched behind you. “Take a picture of her and Geto, and send it to Gojo along with the address.”

The flash was both blinding and suffocating as you struggled to free yourself. This wasn't good; you knew if Gojo were to see it, he'd come running. You were his best friends, and even thought he's been busy with training and all the missions he had been sent on, you knew he still cared for the two of you. And when he showed up, he would fall right into the hands of these monsters who were worse than the curses you constantly took out.

With the second flash that flooded the abandoned hospital room that was only illuminated by the light of twilight, you felt panic swell in your chest. You thrashed and screamed against the man still holding you down on the ground, watching in horror as they texted Satoru from your phone. This wasn't happening; it wasn't real; this was a terrible nightmare that was going to end soon, right?!

“There, done.”

“No!” You screamed, kicking your legs out underneath you. “No! You bastards!” Tears welled in your eyes as you focused on Suguru, grimacing near you. “Suguru! Suguru, wake up!”

“You’re too loud!” The curse-user shouted, kicking you in the stomach a second time, followed by a third, before he kicked you in the ribs.

The impact of that fourth hit had you dry-heaving and sobbing from the pain. You collapsed on the ground, vision blurring for a minute before a crashing sound from down below caught your attention. You wheezed painfully, trying to pull yourself up. You had to tell Satoru to run, that it was a trap, but you couldn't speak. Every breath you took was like stabbing to your stomach, to your lungs; everything hurt.

“Suguru?! Sweetheart?!” Satoru yelled, bounding up the stairs towards you. While you might not be able to speak, you used all of your strength to crawl, inching towards the doorway. Maybe your actions would prevent him from stepping closer. “Where are they, you bastard?”

“T-Tor—Toru—” you gasp out, crawling closer to the door to have the assistant supervisor kick you in the stomach this time. “Agghh!!” You screamed out, and you could hear the footsteps running closer to the door.

You didn’t want him to come inside, to be the reason he fell for a trap. But your prayers and wishes didn’t come true. The door flew open, and your best friend stood in the doorway, his blue eyes taking in the scene in front of him. He met Suguru first, watching as his best friend blinked a few times as he started to regain some form of consciousness. Then, pretty cerulean eyes found you. You could see the rage burning within the irises.

“Ah, the infamous Gojo Satoru, finally we meet.” The curse user unsheathed a katana from his side, licking his lips. “. you sure do know how to piss off a lot of people. And a lot of these people want to hurt you in so many ways. I was hired to deal with that pain for them.” The Curse user said in a condescending tone. “They want you to suffer, and they want to hurt bad. So prepare yourself; it’s not going to be pretty.”

“S-Satoru—run,” you whined, trying to lift yourself.

Your friend threw his head back and laughed out loud. “I don't no dumb ass hired you to ‘hurt’ me, but I’ve been living under a rock for the last year. I’m stronger than I was before, and nobody will kill me. So my friends go, and I’ll deal with you.” You couldn’t help but grin even though the pain was excruciating; leave it to Satoru to have a snarky comeback.

“Oooh, I’m sorry, there seems to be a misunderstanding.” You blinked, watching as the traitor bitch dragged Suguru towards you, throwing him down next to you, leaving him groaning as he blinked hard, trying to come to his senses. “I didn’t say I was going to kill you. I said I would hurt you, and unlike my clients, I have to know you are untouchable. So if I’m not able to hurt you physically, I decided hurting you emotionally would be much better.”

“Huh?”

The katana slammed against the floor right between you and Suguru’s heads. “Choose.” The curse user said in a deep voice, leaving your eyes wide as you stared at your reflection in the blade.

Satoru froze up, eyes focusing on you and Suguru on the ground. “What?”

“Pick one, him or her.” You swallowed as Suguru's eyes widened in shock.

“I ain't picking one over the other!” Satoru snarled out, looking back at your captor, who was smirking.

“You aren’t going to pick?”

“Fuck no!”

The curse user hummed, twirling the katana around in a circle. The dying light menacingly reflected off the blade. You swallowed harder, looking into Suguru’s eyes as the katana twirled faster. This whole situation, everything about it, left you feeling sick to your stomach.

“Then I guess we’ll choose for you!” The curse user announced, picking the katana up out of the ground.

“You—”

“Nuh-uh!” The katana slanted into the ground, an inch away from your face, making you cry out and fear. “Come near us, use one of your special moves, and I’ll slice both their heads off right here. You might be the strongest, but I can assure you that I’m the fastest.”

Your stomach twisted in pain and fear as your breath fogged against the blade. This really couldn’t be happening right now. You choked on a sob, as the katana lifted out of the ground, allowing you to stare into Suguru's eyes. He swallowed, exhaling through his nose as he inched closer towards you. That subtle action to let you know that everything was going to be okay, that he was there by your side, only caused more tears to stream down your cheeks.

“It’s okay, everything’s gonna be okay,” Suguru whispered, his eyes darting towards Saroru, who was clenching and unclenching his fist in apparent concentration, his eyes roaming between the curse user, the traitor, and his two best friends. “Satoru will figure this out; we’ll be okay.”

“Shut the fuck up!” the katana slammed down again, cutting strands of Suguru’s bangs. “I don’t like repeating myself, Gojo. And I believe I ask you a question. Choose. Someone has to die today.”

Dark eyes glittered with amusement as Suguru looked up at the curse user. “You obviously don’t know my friend, he would nev—”

“Suguru.” Satoru blurted out. You slowly turned your head to look at the tufts of white hair that dropped as he clenched his fists harder.

“Satoru.” Suguru purred out, smiling. “What I can—”

“I choose to save Geto Suguru.”

Your stomach twisted in pain as you felt tears welling in your eyes as the curse user barked out a laugh, moving the katana so fast you didn't see it slicing Suguru’s bindings. Was your mind playing tricks on you? Did he re—really just pick Geto? Was he choosing to let you die?

You meant nothing to him?

Your stomach churned with nausea as the room started spinning. You felt like you couldn't breathe as Satoru refused to look at you. He did, and he picked Suguru over you.

Tears blurred your vision as you listened to Suguru cursing as he was quickly unbound. “Wow,” the man towering above you breathed out. It looks like you see where you stand.” Anger and betrayal hit you as you whirled to glare.

“Fuck you—nngh!” he kicks you in the stomach for a fifth time. And the impact made you see dark spots.

“You heard the man; it’s time to die.” he kicked you again, rolling you onto your back, where it was hard to breathe. “I hope you're watching Gojo Satoru; watch the hope and trust she had for you fade along with her life!”

The katana rose up, and you shut your eyes, waiting for the pain to hit. Instead of your cries of pain, the man above you screamed. When you forced your eyes to open, you watched as one of Geto's curses shot out, swallowing the man’s upper half in one bite, before swallowing the rest of him in another. Weakly you turned your head as the traitorous bitch was wrapped up in one of Suguru’s other curses.

Your beaten and bloodied best friend was panting as Satoru stared at him in shock. As if he couldn't believe he had stepped in. But his shock quickly dissolved into realization as his head turned towards you, and he moved, running towards you.

“Hey, are you okay?” he asked, reaching to lift you up. But as his hands inched towards you, you pulled away from him, tears running down your cheeks. “Sweetheart?”

“Don't touch me.” you wheezed, vision blurring as your stomach twisted in pain. “Don't you ever fucking touch me again, you son of a bitch.”

“Sweetie, I—”

“Don’t touch me!”

Satoru pulled his hand away as if your words badly burned him. “I-I—” You laughed out bitterly, turning your head, and it was a look Gojo would never forget.

Your eyes were dull, blurred with tears, but he could see the betrayal and hatred swirling within them even with their dull hue. You wheezed deeply, blood seeping out of the corner of your mouth as Geto rushed towards you on the phone, calling Yaga. But nothing mattered nothing but you right then and there.

“Sweetheart, I-I wouldn't have let them hurt you. I promise!”

“You chose Geto.” you spat out, a droplet of blood jotting Gojo’s infinity as you curled in on yourself. “You chose to keep him alive and let me die.”

“I wouldn't have let them!”

“Bullshit!”

The pain in your face was like a million needles to Gojo’s heart as Geto told Yaga about what had happened. “That’s enough right now, you two! Satoru, Yaga wants you to take her back to campus so Shoko can help.” Gojo could see the shame in Geto’s eyes as he hung up the phone. “Princess, Gojo’s going to teleport you to the school.”

“No,” you whispered with a shake of your head.

“Come on! I won't hurt you; let me help you!”

“Don't you fucking touch me! I'd rather die than let you touch me. And you shouldn't have an issue with that, seeing that you picked me to die.”

Satoru gritted his teeth with anger but backed off, giving Suguru a shrug as the other man sighed. “Whatever.” With a sigh of annoyance, Sugiri picked you up princess-style and started running out of the room, heading down the stairs to get you in the car while Satoru followed behind, staring at the ground in shock and disbelief.

He knew you were mad; anyone would have been angry. But he panicked; he had to make a choice; otherwise, he would have lost you both, and that was something he was never going to let happen. Maybe he yelled out Suguru’s name because he was closer to him. Or perhaps it was just out of reflex, but he meant it when he said he would save both of you. There would be no way he would let anything happen to you. Both of you were his best friends.

You were just angry now; it would take some time, and he would explain that to you when you calmed down. All you needed was a little bit of time and space. What was the saying? Time heals all wounds?

Yeah, that was it. He just needed to give you some time to process what happened and allow your wounds to heal.

“Huh?” Gojo asked as he stood in the morgue, staring at Shoko.

“I said there wasn't much we could do.”

His eyes trailed down to the body that lay on the metal slab between him and Shoko. Your face was lax, your eyes shut, and bruises were discoloring your pretty face. This was a joke; it was all a fucked up joke for what he had said, right? You were going to sit up and say ‘jokes on you’ or ‘I got you bitch’ right? But your skin was too ashen, your pulse wasn't racing in your throat, and he couldn't sense your cursed energy with his Six-Eyes.

You were gone.

“B-But I don't understand. W-What happened, she was—she was fine.”

“On the outside, maybe.” Shoko lit a cigarette, holding it between her teeth as she moved some of your hair from your face. “But she took several kicks to the stomach, it looked like, and the sheer force formed an abdominal hematoma that ruptured with that last kick. If she got here a bit sooner, then maybe, just maybe, we could have saved her.” Shoko frowned, pulling the white sheet back up to cover your face. “But there wasn't anything we could do.”

Satoru's hands started shaking as he smelt earthy musk and mint approaching his side. He swallowed hard, turning to find Suguru staring down at your body, an almost unreadable expression on his face. What was he supposed to say in a situation like this? One where they both lost their best friend?

“She stayed true to her word,” Suguru whispered as he turned, his white button-down shirt tucked into his pants, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. “I’m going on a mission to the countryside and won't return for a while.”

Satoru turned, glaring as Suguru opened the door to the hall. “What the hell do you mean she stayed true to her word?!” Suguru paused before looking back at Gojo with dull, lifeless eyes that almost mirrored yours the last time you had looked at him. It was so eerily similar that Gojo took a step back.

“She would have rather died than have you touch her.” His eyes focused on your body before he met Satoru's teary eyes. “And she did just that, all because of your choice.”

With that, the door slammed shut, leaving Gojo standing in the morgue with the body of one of his best friends while his other went off on a mission alone. A mission that would lead to him massacring an entire village. Little did Gojo know his choice would cost him the lives of both his best friends.

Forever Tag List:

@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe @chilichopsticks @reap3erslov3 @wil10wthetree

[hard-core-super-star]

push me on the counter, call me princess [W.Maximoff; N.Romanoff]

pairing: dom!wanda maximoff x sub!reader x dom!natasha romanoff

summary: you and wanda develop a connection you definitely shouldn't have with someone in a relationship. unbeknowst to you, it's all part of their plan.

warnings: PURE SMUT, MINORS DO NO INTERACT -> mentions of cheating! [no actual cheating, though! wandanat have an agreement, R doesn't know about it until things get spicy]; mommy + daddy kink; nipple play; impact play; wanda using her powers to hold R down; fingering [R receiving]; oral [Nat receiving]; twinges of humiliation; degradation + praise; nat's a little mean but we love her for it; use of the term 'slut'; probably more but i forgot

wordcount: 3.3k

a/n: so...i'm technically not doing anything official for kinktober this year because school is kicking my butt already BUT i have a few ideas for some very filthy smut fics so i'll be posting them this month. i haven't written for wandanat in a minute so i hope i did them justice. please let me know your thoughts, i hope you enjoy <3

* * * * * * *

It was supposed to be a one time thing.

That's what you told Wanda when she pushed you against the farthest wall in some dingy, badly-lit, New York bar.

The two of you had come back from a long, draining, mission and, instead of staying at the Compound and actually resting, you decided to go out and get drunk to let off some steam. The mission had technically been a success, but it had also been a pain in the ass...and in the shoulder, thanks to the knife wound you'd received.

So, yeah, maybe going out wasn't the best idea in the first place.

In your defense, it was borderline impossible to say no to the witch. Mainly because she was very convincing when she wanted to be, but also because of your massive, and borderline ridiculous, crush on her.

To make matters worse, Wanda was pissed off at Natasha for...something and you ended up taking the place of a supportive partner.

It would have been fine had the drinks in your system not made your inhibitions lower significantly, which rendered you helpless against the green-eyed woman of your dreams. Then again, it's not like you were particularly against that idea in the first place.

Maybe that made you a horrible person.

Maybe that made Wanda a monster.

But how could she be one when she whispered the sweetest words in your ear while taking you over the edge and destroying you in the most pleasurable of ways? How could there be anything wrong about her soft caresses and gentle smiles?

A part of you knows the answer. It's wrong because the witch's heart isn't yours. Or worse, because someone else's heart belongs to the witch.

Because for all their problems and arguments, Wanda and Natasha love each other. At the very least, they tolerate each other enough to stay together.

And you don't fit into their relationship.

You shouldn't.

But Wanda isn't a person you can just ignore.

She makes that perfectly clear no less than a week after your little "mistake".

You're in the kitchen at the Compound, eating some leftovers and scrolling through your phone to keep yourself occupied, when Wanda walks in. You don't need to look at her to know she's pissed off. Her energy is way too heavy to mean anything else.

"Hey, Wands," you say, barely looking up from your phone out of fear of falling under her spell once more.

She walks over to you, leaning against the counter and silently watching you for a second. Her silence honestly scares you, but you don't question her yet. You know better than that.

"You've been avoiding me," she says, her voice soft yet not gentle. "Why is that?"

A shiver runs down your spine at the question. 

You know you can't lie to her, she's a freaking mind reader, but you can't exactly tell her the truth. You've both been trying to ignore it since the morning you woke up tangled together in her bed.

A bed she shares with someone who isn't you.

"I've been busy," you reply with a shrug. "Kate's been forcing me to train every day."

Clearly, that's the wrong answer, considering the tilt of her head.

Yup. You're fucked now.

"Is that so? I didn't realize you two were such good...friends."

Wanda pushes herself off the counter, taking slow, calculated, steps until she's standing behind you. If you weren't so focused on keeping your voice steady, you might have been able to guess what her plan in.

"Well, we both love annoying Clint and making Yelena mad."

She hums in response as her arms wrap themselves around you, pulling you back until you're firmly pressed against her. 

The action almost makes you fall off your stool. You somehow stay put, though, even as every fiber of your being tells you to leave. The harsh truth is that you don't want to leave.

You want her so badly that the consequences don't seem to matter.

Nothing matters but her.

Which is exactly what she wants.

"You should be careful with the little archer," she says, her hands not so subtly caressing your sides. "You know she's just going to use you then throw you away when she's bored."

The irony in her words isn't lost on you.

You open your mouth to let her know that when her hands move up and brush against your chest. It takes all your willpower to stop yourself from gasping.

"Wanda," you hiss. "We're in the middle of the kitchen."

"Relax, detka," she whispers into your ear, your body instantly obeying her words. "You know I won't let anyone see."

"Do I?" you reply. "Because it seems exactly like something you'd enjoy."

The witch chuckles despite herself. "That's true but you're not the only trying to keep things a secret."

You know her words should make you feel worse about this whole thing but right now, they only serve to turn you on. As messed up as it is, there's something exciting about the situation. 

About how much Wanda wants you.

So, even though you know you should push her away, you lean back against her, allowing her hands to explore your body however she wishes.

Your obedience (if you can even call it that) is instantly rewarded by the other woman. Her hands sneak their way under your shirt, her fingers drawing teasing shapes on your warm skin as she makes the journey upward.

"You're such a good girl for me, baby," she mumbles almost absent-mindedly. "Letting me use you like this. Letting me play with you whenever I want."

A part of you wants to put up a fight. To show her you have a bigger backbone than she realizes. That you're able to switch the tables on her whenever you want.

Unfortunately, that part of you goes quiet the second her fingers find your nipples. "Look at you, all ready for me, huh?"

"Shut up," you mumble as your cheeks heat up.

Your words of defiance earn you a sharp pinch to your already sensitive nipples. "Watch your mouth, sweetheart."

It's impossible to stop your back from arching as the leftover sting rushes through your system. You'd learned the hard way that Wanda could either be the sweetest or the most unforgivable lover. In a way, it made being with her all the more exciting...and unpredictable.

Then again, you can't pretend you don't like it. If you didn't, you would have never gotten mixed up with her in the first place.

"Sorry," you whisper, not sounding particularly sincere.

If Wanda notices, she doesn't point it out and instead goes right back to playing with your chest, squeezing and pinching your nipples as she pleases.

Her actions only serve to make you more and more desperate for her. It's almost embarrassing how good she is at reading you. At knowing exactly what buttons to push to turn you into a shaking, pleading mess.

A part of you knows it's thanks to her powers that she can read your desires so well, but you ignore the thought for now. You could beat yourself up over all this later, right now, you had a very important task ahead of you.

"You're eager today," she teases, her eyes zeroing in on the slight movement of your hips. "Did you miss me that much?"

You're not sure why you're in such a defiant mood today but your mouth moves way faster than your thoughts. "Yeah, Kate was too busy today."

You don't see the scarlet that begins to overtake her eyes since you have your back to her. You miss the warning signs until she uses her magic to bend you over the counter, keeping your hands behind your back.

"You're going to regret talking to me like that," she says, holding you down easily thanks to her magic.

It's obvious you should apologize and yet you remain as composed as you possibly can given the situation. As stupid as it is, you're still mad at her for putting you in this situation.

Out of the two of you, she was the one who was in the wrong. She was the one fucking up her relationship just because she was upset with her girlfriend. And she had the audacity to pull you down with her.

To make you like it.

You couldn't place all the blame on her and yet you did it anyway. As if that would somehow fix the entire situation.

Her hand comes down on your ass before you can make your predicament worse. The sudden sensation makes you jump, the leftover sting taking over your mind.

"Wanda." Your attempt to sound mad falls completely flat since your voice is far too breathless for it to be convincing.

She spanks you again. Once. Twice. Each time striking both harder and faster.

"Try again, detka," she tells you, her voice unforgiving. "And then maybe, I'll go easy on you."

She won't.

You know she won't. But the idea that she could is more than tantalizing enough.

Although, then again, it wasn't like you didn't enjoy calling her by her beloved title.

"Mommy," you whisper, your voice sounding way too loud in the empty kitchen.

You don't need to be looking at her to see the proud grin that takes over her features.

This is the real reason why she wants you. Why she likes being with you. Because she doesn't need to fight you to get you to submit to her every whim.

"Good girl." Wanda's hands toy with the waistband of your pants. "Tell me what you want."

You allow the silence to drag on for a second longer than necessary. You both know you won't deny her, you can't, but that doesn't mean you can't keep her guessing. 

Maybe then she'll grow tired of you and stop using you so carelessly.

"Want you to touch me...please, mommy."

You half expect her to drag the moment out until you can't hold yourself back from begging for more. For her.

She doesn't, though, because unbeknownst to you, she's playing a different kind of game with you today.

Wanda uses her powers to undress you, barely giving you a second to register just how vulnerable she's leaving you. You know no one will walk in on you two, she promised you that much, but that doesn't make it any less scary...and thrilling.

"Look at you," she coos, her fingers spreading your slick folds. "So wet and I've barely even touched you. Such a needy thing, aren't you, sweetheart?"

It's embarrassing how hard your walls clench around pure air from the mere tone of her voice. It's that intoxicating mix between degrading and sweet that you want everything she's willing to give you.

"Yes, mommy," you whimper.

"Oh, I know," she says, pushing the tip of her index finger into your tight cunt. "She's such a good girl, isn't she?"

Your eyebrows furrow in confusion but her powers hold you down and stop you from turning to look at her. Your question is answered before you can even ask it, though, as a certain pair of black boots make their way into your field of vision.

"I'm not sure." The sound of Natasha's voice sends a shiver down her spine. "She looks like a desperate slut to me."

Wanda stops you from answering, thanks to her powers. "Oh, come on, Nat, don't be mean. Look how eager she is to be played with."

The redhead rolls her eyes. "That just proves my point."

The witch laughs, taking the moment to sink her finger deeper into your pussy, relishing the wet sounds that fill the kitchen. You're more than a little humiliated, but there's nothing you can do to stop it. Worse, there's nothing you can do to deny how wet the situation is making you.

How desperate you are for more.

Wanda knows. Of course, she knows. It's partly because of her powers and partly because she knows your body far too well. And because she knows you so well, she gives you a chance to call the whole thing off before it even truly starts.

"What's your color, y/n?"

It would be so easy to say "red" and stop everything. You know there would be zero judgement. That despite whatever agreement they've come to, they'd both take a step back and make sure you were okay.

And yet...you can't seem to form the word.

Because, as much as you don't want to admit it...you want this.

"Green..." you whisper.

Wanda leans in, taking your mind off of Natasha's eyes on you, and peppers soft kisses across your back. The softness of her lips is a stark contrast to her previous demeanor and it helps calm down your speeding nerves.

The Russian steps forward, her hand cupping your face and gently tilting it backward until your eyes meet. "You want this, don't you, darling?"

You don't want to admit it but you can't bring yourself to lie to her. "Yes...I want this."

The sharpness in her eyes fades away slightly. There's still an edge of annoyance in her features but she looks almost as turned on as you feel. "Good girl."

Your walls clench around Wanda's finger and she chuckles before starting to move in and out of your tight heat. "I think she likes you, Nat."

"Shut up."

Wanda adds another finger into the mix, expertly stretching you out and drawing out a long moan from your parted lips. "That's it, just give in, sweetheart. Doesn't it feel better when you stop thinking so much?"

It's startling how right she is.

She doesn't wait for an answer this time, though, she simply speeds up her movements, curling her fingers in the way that drives you crazy. The pleasure slowly overwhelms your mind, removing all other thoughts until all you can focus on is how good it all feels. How much you like submitting to them like this.

"Mommy..." You whine, watching the way Natasha's eyes darken in response to your sounds. "Please...need more."

"Aw, are two fingers not enough for you, baby?" The fake pity in her tone turns you on more than it should. "Does your greedy pussy need more?"

You nod desperately, ignoring the humiliation that lingers in your every move.

All that earns you is another laugh from Wanda and an eye roll from Natasha.

The redhead steps back from you, causing you to whimper, before her hands move to her belt. Her eyes remain on yours as she starts removing her garments, slowly revealing the red strap-on resting between her legs.

Your lips part almost instantly once you catch sight of the full size of it and just how incredibly dominant it makes Natasha look. You shouldn't be surprised considering what everyone, including Wanda, always say about her. Then again, seeing is believing.

"So fucking eager, aren't you?" You know the Russian is technically making fun of you, but you can't help feeling a bit proud of yourself for the grin on her face.

She steps forward, her hands coming up to tangle in your hair and guide you forward. There's something weirdly soft about her movements, about the way she takes her time with you. Maybe, just maybe, she likes you more than she's let on.

You wrap your lips around the head of the dildo, your eyes glued to Natasha's face. You can see the flecks of pleasure spreading across her features, the way she clenches her jaw to stop herself from vocalizing it. It's like you're stuck in a far too arousing competition with her. Each of you trying your damn harderst to break the other.

Unfortunately for you, you also have Wanda working behind you, her fingers restlessly pumping in and out of your soaked entrance. She knows exactly how to wind you up. 

Exactly how to keep you on your toes yet wanting more.

Natasha guides you further down her cock, working the length deeper into your mouth. "You look so much better like this, malyshka."

"I told you," Wanda pipes up, choosing that exact moment to work another finger into your tight heat. "You just wanted to be a party pooper."

"Keep talking like that and you'll be next, Maximoff."

"You're no fun."

You've never heard Wanda like this. So pouty and borderline bratty. It's a stark contrast to the dominant woman you've grown so attached to. To the one that turns your brain to putty with just a few words.

"Don't get any ideas, sweetheart. Mommy's still in charge here."

You moan in response, the sound muffled by the dildo currently stuffing your mouth.

"If you're Mommy," Natasha says, starting to thrust into your mouth. "Does that make me Daddy?"

You try to voice your approval for the title but neither of the women pay attention to you. They just keep talking like you're not even there, like all you are is a toy for them to play with.

"I thought you didn't like being called that."

The redhead shrugs in response. "I don't but now I'm curious."

"I think our good girl would like it."

You wait for Natasha to complain and say something about how you aren't theirs. Maybe make fun of you again for even thinking they'd ever entertain that idea.

She doesn't, though.

All she does is double her efforts as she keeps thrusting into your mouth. 

The kitchen fills with the sounds of your pleasure as they both play with your needy holes.

You feel yourself growing closer and closer to the edge, the coil in your stomach getting tighter with each one of their well-timed thrusts. You're completely at their mercy and you love every second of their never-ending show of dominance.

Of control over you.

Wanda's movements speed up and you do your best to ask for permission to cum, knowing all too well the consequences that would await you if you forgot. It's practically impossible to speak, though, considering the way Natasha is still thrusting into your mouth, her hips grinding against the base of the dildo each time she slips the length back inside.

"I know, baby," the witch reassures you. "You want to cum so bad, don't you?"

All she gets is a muffled whine in response, your body jerking forward when her thumb teases your swollen clit.

"Go ahead, darling," Natasha speaks up, her voice practically a low growl. "Cum all over Mommy's fingers for me."

You're not used to receiving such a command from the redhead and yet your body reacts immediatly to her tone. Your whole body seems to come alive as you fall over the edge, Wanda's fingers never ceasing in their movements. She expertly draws out your pleasure until you're left shaking and panting. 

The ringing in your ears doesn't allow you to hear the string of moans that leave Natasha's mouth as she watches the scene. The sight of you coming undone so violently causes her to fall apart, her fingers tightening in your hair until you're sputtering for air.

Thankfully, Wanda knows your limits well.

No words are exchanged as she uses her magic on you again. You're barely coherent, your mind still too muddled by pure pleasure and the cotton-filled haze of submission.

She gently sets you down on the couch, wiping down your soaked skin with a wet cloth, making sure to look you over in case their rough movements bruised you up.

"You okay, darling?" The witch asks as she settles down next to you.

You nod in response, shifting a little until your head rests in her lap. "Yeah...just tired."

"You should get some rest, detka. We have a lot to talk about."

Her words make you laugh. "That's an understament, Wands."

"Whatever." She moves her hand down to run her fingers through your hair, gently scratching your scalp as sleep overcomes you.

There's a lot you don't understand, a lot you really figure out, but you feel safe with the knowledge that you haven't ruined anything. That you're not an intruder in their relationship. If anything, you're a welcome addition.

[luveline]

jadey!! would you ever write something for spencer where reader gets tipsy/drunk and is all over him? i just think he would be so cute and flustered, especially if she isn’t usually this forward with him (either established relationship or mutual crushing!)

thanks for your request lovely♡ —you really want spencer to be your boyfriend. fem!reader, 1k

The smell of your lip balm is the very first thing Spencer acknowledges, rather than the soft press of your lips to his cheek, or your hand on his neck. When he does realise you're kissing him it's like a shock to the system; Spencer hadn't thought about what his neck might feel like to a new hand until you're cupping it sweetly, hadn't worried about the neatness of his hair before you ran a hand over it with reverence. 

"Thanks for coming to pick me up," you say, wrapping your arms around his neck. "Best boyfriend ever." 

Which is a great sentiment and all, but Spencer isn't your boyfriend. He holds your back in one arm, the other busy strangling his shiny car keys, his mind racing. He isn't your boyfriend. Right? You have to ask someone for it to be official (according to Derek, Penelope, and Emily) (JJ was a little more lax about it) and Spencer's been too scared to ask you. 

"Are you okay?" he asks softly. You're wobbly. 

"Super drunk," you say, like it's one word, a diagnosable affliction. "Sorry." 

"Hey, it's okay. You don't have to be sober for me to drive you home. I'm really glad you called me." 

You're drunk enough to miss his confused tones. "No,  I'm sorry 'cos I knew you'd say yes even though you hate driving. I honestly didn't even think you had a car." 

Spencer pulls you closer as a couple stumbles out of the same bar you'd been inside of, though when he arrived you were sitting on the cold sidewalk with your knees pulled up and your dress slipping out of place. He adjusts his grip to put an arm under yours and begins leading you toward to the parking lot. 

"Next time, I'll come inside to get you, okay? I don't think I need statistics to remind you that it's not safe to be inebriated by yourself in the city, especially now." It's pitch black outside, stars like a scattering of tint salt grains visible to only the most dedicated of eyes. "It's dangerous for you. I don't mind coming in to find you." 

"You're the nicest," you declare, letting your head fall onto his shoulder. 

He's fitter than he used to be, but Spencer doesn't have a chance of getting you to the car if you're not conscious. "Hey, keep your eyes open. It's not far, okay? Work with me."

"Will you call me something nice if I do?" you ask. 

Spencer helps you down off of the curb and across a naked stretch of asphalt shining like grease in the light from the lamppost. "I'll call you whatever you want me to." 

"You called me pretty on Thursday." 

Spencer feels the heat of a blush blooming at your slurred proclamation but doesn't back down. "You looked pretty on Thursday. You look pretty every single day. Watch the curb." 

"What about, uh, pet names?" 

"Like what?" he asks. 

"Like honey, and sweetheart. Angel, doll, dove." 

"Is that what you want?" he asks, trying to sneak a look at your face. You're concentrating hard on your footsteps, your tall shoes slippery on the wet ground. 

"If we're together…" 

"Are we together?" Spencer asks. He shouldn't ask while you're drunk, and it's not like he's going to take your word for it now over any sober discussion in the future, but he wants to know. 

"You don't think we're together?" you ask, frowning. He's horrified to see the crushed tremble in your lip. 

"I haven't had the chance to ask you yet," he says quickly. 

You sniffle, looking at him with a wide-eyed hope. "But you're going to ask me?" 

"Yeah, I'm going to ask you." He lowers his voice. He's not afraid of other people hearing him. If anything, he's afraid you will. He's afraid you'll hear him and reject him, despite every sign that says you won't. "I've wanted to ask you for a really long time, but you're– I was scared. You're beautiful, and kind, and you make me feel like I've found something I was missing, now. I guess I thought holding off would change the odds." 

"I thought you got banned from all those casinos," you say, clinging to his arm. 

Spencer's nose wrinkles. "What does that have to do with anything?" 

"You count cards and pr… probability," —you sound it out— "right? Have you not been doing that with me?" 

Spencer stops walking to help you pull your jacket back onto your bare shoulder. It's too cold to stay out here long. "It's different. You're different." 

"Oh." You smile at him dreamily. Eyes squinting until your lashes kiss in the corners, you smile like your lips have been stuck together with honey. You pout at him very gently, and he thinks you might want a kiss.

Spencer pats your back. "Come on. I'll take you home. You can sleep it off." 

"Can I come home with you?" 

He sees his car in the distance, a beacon of hope. "Yeah, if you want. But I don't have any pyjamas or anything for you." 

"Not yet," you say. 

Spencer goes pink to the ears, and unfortunately for him, you notice. You refuse to walk a step further, throwing heavy arms over his shoulders to beam at him eye to eye. Your fingers tangle gently into the ends of his hair and twist in circles that have butterflies exploding in his stomach. His breath catches when you tug on a strand, clearly bemused. 

"I really want to be your girlfriend." 

"I–" He swallows roughly. "I really want you to be my girlfriend." 

"Will you ask me?" 

"Tomorrow?" he asks delicately. He might be shy with you, but he has no qualms now showing you how vehemently he returns your affections, his arms curling slowly but surely behind your back. 

You fall into his arms for another hug. "Yesssss," you cheer under your breath. 

He sneaks a kiss against the shell of your ear. "Wanna go get something to eat first?" 

You gasp like you've been offered the world. "You really are the best boyfriend." 

[lilacgaby]

˗ˏˋdon't ask what are we, i like it baby.𖤐

pairing: situationship!gojo x reader

synopsisꨄ. the affection shared between you not only in public but private made everyone think you were together, but the one time they were right about your 'relationship', it made satoru upset. maybe he should make you official.

you honestly couldn't pick out when this started with satoru.

the gravitational pull towards each other, fleeting touches of the hand and the fluttering of eyelashes. the hand holding and kisses, laughing at his jokes even though they weren't always that funny.

finding comfort in each other, even though you really shouldn't grant him your presence. you always did though, open arms or a lap for him to lay on, a person for him to confide in. but even as he kissed you, tucking your hair behind your ear as words were lost to the pumping of your heart in your ears, it'd never progressed further.

no dates were in your future, no promise ring or flowers, no way you'd ever be able to call the satoru gojo yours in the near future.

but that didn't mean he didn't act like you were already his. like he wasn't entitled to your affection and love. as you scrolled on your phone mindlessly in the hallways, he wrapped his arms around you shamelessly. making people raise their eyebrows in confusion as he spoke directly into your ear, asking you what you were doing, where you were going, if you wanted to do things with him.

how he'd walk you to the dorms everyday, walk in like he owned the place as he laid down right smack middle of your bed. patting the side next to him as if it was only natural for you to be beside him so intimately.

how he'd skip out on hang outs with his friends just to come bother you at night, knocking on your door with sweets in hand, smiling at your half asleep self. “got room for one more?” he leant against the doorframe, he knew you'd let him in.

“weren't you hanging out with geto and shoko?” you rubbed the sleep out of your eyes, as he responded while walking in and closing the door behind him. “yeah, wanted to be next to you though.” his face leaned close to yours, you could smell his expensive perfume as he laid his head in your shoulder.

he didn't leave that night.

how he spoke to you so sweetly, so deeply intrigued with you. as he stared as your face, eyes not leaving it as you spoke. “and.. um– what happened was…” he'd moved closer and tilt your head up with his hand. “go on, i was listening.”

the late night talks that always lead to more, your lipstick smudged and smeared against his lips as you grew obsessed with each other.

conversations would take place in the car, his eyes would hyper focus on your lips, you were just trying to speak but it always ended with you two breathless, conversations forgotten.

he didn't feel okay if you weren't right by his side, or if he didn't know your whereabouts. it was like having a clingy boyfriend who texted you every hour, asking where you'd be and if you were okay. though, despite this it wasn't anything more than a friendship.

he always felt truly happy around you. more than a weapon, more than the strongest sorcerer you saw him as him and nothing more. you held him as if you were just two normal people in love, he'd hold back as if your love was fleeting, not timeless but limited. he'd hold on for as long as you'd let him, which usually was until morning.

any conversations you tried to have about your relationship, asking if this was serious or not was quickly played or brushed off, your heart cracking slightly everytime he ignored you. the times you did manage to get a response out of him were full of, “what we have now is perfect, why ruin it?” and “labels are no fun anyways, you're fine aren't you?” you'd kick him out of your dorm, or leave where ever you were at when he said that. but you always ended up back with him again, running his hands through your hair the next day. he'd text you throughout the night, spouting apologies and promises mixed in with stupid emojis. you'd resist the urge to respond for a while, but you gave in. you always did for him.

he who held your heart in his hands, who chose to love and neglect it all within the same hour even, who you'd let continue being in control. honestly, you didn't know why yourself.

your relationship, or whatever you had going on, had just become so obvious to everyone around. people had started questioning you about it, shoko being the first to ask you so directly though. during a random hangout of yours, lazing around as you mindlessly scrolled on your phone, attention drawn elsewhere, she just came out with it. “so, are you two dating or something?” it was obvious who she was referring to, there was no one else who was so outwardly forward with you. but you rushed to correct her, even though it was something you thought about often yourself. “what? me and satoru are just friends, that's all.”

a moment passes over, her eyes locking into yours. “but you want more don't you? it's kind of cruel of him to be doing that to you actually.”

“you have no idea.”

little did you know, gojo was undergoing a similar conversation with geto, who eyed him and shot a knowingly look at him. “so, you and [name] aren't dating right?”

satoru was caught off guard by the comment as well, but he quickly recovered and went to make a joke about it. “what? no way. we're just friends.”

a thoughtful look came over geto’s face as he looked over gojo again. “then, you have no problem with me asking her out, right?”

the look that came over satoru was almost laughable, how his eyes widened and lips snarled into a scowl. how his fists balled up and his finger pressed against geto’s chest as he let out an angry, “no.”

“why not?” a dumb smile came over geto’s face. now mirroring his previous actions to shove a finger against his chest. “you know why.” satoru grabbed his hand and yanked it away from him, then walked off angrily, a puff of smoke almost being visible above his head.

geto could only laugh at how hopeless he was, and he'd be right.

you were still hanging around with shoko, outside and picking apart the clouds in the sky. though, you were cut off by a slightly annoyed satoru gently grabbing your hand. “come with me.” was all he said before he pulled you up with him, you waving bye frantically to shoko as he basically pulled you along, his longer strides being hard to keep up with.

he took you further outside than you were, surrounded by trees as he looked you up and down. you were just so pretty, so understanding, his voice was getting caught in his chest.

“satoru?” your voice snapped him out of his lovesick trance, his hands found yours and gripped them tightly, entangling the fingers within yours. he took a steady, deep breath, his hair was being blown back by the wind as his blue eyes finally landed onto yours again.

“[name].” he started, his heart already racing at the fact that your attention was all on him. “i– i should've done this a long time ago.”

your head tilted to the side, pulse quickening to match his, you bit your lip as you pondered over exactly what he meant, but he continued. “you– you're special to me. the things i do– we do- are special to me. the thought of you kissing, or being with anyone else,” his grip on your hands tightened impossibly, “it.. it upsets me.”

“i know it was wrong, wrong of me to expect you to wait around. to expect you to just be available for me whenever i wanted. but.. i– i just couldn't voice my feelings for you. you're like a safe place for me, a safe haven i could go to.”

he took another deep breath, having to look away from you for a moment. “i want to be that for you. i don't want someone else to come and take you away, i want to be as special to you as you are to me. no matter how selfish that makes me.”

he pressed his forehead against yours, his eyes closed as if awaiting rejection. “so, be mine. and i'll be yours. please.” his hands shook in your wake as he waited, hearing the gasp you let out from under your lips. he wasn't sure if it was from his proximity, from his question, or from something else but all he knew is that you let go of his hands.

his heart sunk to the bottom of his stomach, eyes widened and teary as he looked at you, but his words were cut off by the feeling of your hands on his face. of the sight of your teary eyes that matched him. “of course, dummy.” with a kiss that felt as if it was your first, you sealed your promise. he couldn't help the smile that played over his mouth as he kissed you, couldn't help himself from falling back into your embrace.

he couldn't help but realize that you held his heart in your hand, how you cared for it and made him feel alive. that scared him, scared him so bad that he'd willingly played with your heart in the process.

but as you two laid on the grass, pointing out shapes in the sky together as usual, seeing you in the sun as a heart-shaped cloud came out at the perfect time,

he knew he did right by you, finally.

he kissed you again, bound by his love for you. bound by the fact that he wouldn't need to worry about this, not if he dedicate himself to you as much as you did him.

as much as you deserved.

[wosofutbolfan]

Remember, Remember

Alexia Putellas x Explorer!R

Sometimes being in a relationship with someone from a different culture can be hard, but so worth it.

3rd part in the Explorer! Verse. Pt 1 and Pt 2 can be found here.

Fluff. 10k.

We're officially in October and the leaves are crunchy so we're here for the Autumnal vibes. Again, this is a complete vanity piece, and may only make sense to those Brits out there but should be readable to everyone. For those who don't know what Bonfire Night is, good ol' wiki can help, here.

People wanted more of the team involved so this is my attempt at that!

I'm trying to get into my short fluff era but here we are 10k words later. Honestly, those people who can write short, snappy pieces, take a bow.

3rd part in the Explorer! Verse. Pt 1 and Pt 2 can be found here. Again, all can be read alone but are better together.

For those interested, this is the song playing in my head when I wrote this. Did I mention my dreadful taste in music? James Blunt is king.

You threw another log on the fire and with a sigh, moved back and settled more deeply into the rattan furniture you were sitting on. You lay your head back and take in the stars scattered on a blanket of darkness above you, smoke plume rising gently and disappearing into the inky abyss.

With the crackle of the fire being the only soundtrack to your evening, you noted the changing of the season in the crunching of the leaves on the patio, and the lack of cicadas chirping which had become the soundtrack to your new life in Barna.

It had been a few months since your accident.

You called it an accident.

Alexia called it an inevitability.

She hadn’t quite shook off her anger whenever reminded of what happened. She would turn quiet and mutter in fast-catalan to herself, something you learnt she would only do if she was really annoyed and didn’t want you to understand her; “neu estúpida, que fins i tot necessita veure tanta neu de totes maneres”.

But you had learnt the best thing to do in these situations would be to bundle her into your chest and give her your previously injured hand which she seemed to find comfort in massaging, as though reminding herself that there was blood running through the veins.

You’d apologise, and you’d thank her over and over again.

You knew she was never angry, she was scared.

But, you’d both worked through her fear and your trauma, you’d mended physically and mentally. Both going to therapy, surprisingly, after Alexia has insisted on it.

The usually stern captain was a massive advocate of the counseling, finding it helped her during her injuries and time away from the pitch.

You needed more convincing, talking to strangers about feelings did not come naturally to your keep calm and carry on attitude. 

You were much more inclined to put on Paddington 2, lay on Alexia's lap whilst she played with your hair and pretended that she didn't know you were crying.

But after one-too-many nights waking up with a start after feeling trapped by your blankets, or on one bad occasion, shoving your girlfriend out of bed when her arm slung across your stomach had felt like a vice suffocating you, you had agreed. 

For her.  

You’d do anything for her.

You knew Alexia was relieved, with the shadows disappearing from your eyes. She told you that you had your spark back.

You think she was just happy she didn’t have to keep being the small spoon. 

She did miss Paddington 2 though. She loved that damn bear.

You both found your rhythm. And you settled into domesticity that you never expected to adore so much until you met the blonde and you know… almost died.

Alexia looked at you every day like she couldn’t believe you were standing in her kitchen, or settled onto her couch when she returned from training.

It melted your heart every time that look was directed your way, and it tugged on your heart strings when you imagined her coming home to an empty house when you were on an expedition, worried about if you were dead or alive.

You swore to yourself that you would never let that image become a reality again.

But.

You had itchy feet. Naturally. You hadn’t changed that fundamentally as a person, and you knew a jobless, housewife in a high-rise city centre apartment you were not.

So, one day, you had sat Alexia down and held her hands in yours, and told her you needed a job.

“You do not need a job mi amor! I look after us, and you stay safe, I like it. me gusta cuidarte.” she’d proudly exclaimed, practically puffing her chest out like a caveman. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at her.

“Of course I need a job, love. I am not making a life of walking around Barna, watching football games and being a beach bum.”

“I like your beach bum.” she’d retorted, childishly whilst you swatted her wandering hands.

“I know you do bebe…” you’d straddled her lap then and looped your hands around her neck, playing with her baby hairs at the nape of her neck.

You knew she loved that.

That was confirmed as her eyes fluttered closed at your ministrations. “But I want to build a life here and I know what I want to do…” 

“Yes Mi Amor, anything you like, I will help you. I have contacts. I will support you in what you chose.” she’d giddily replied, seemingly doing a 180 on your career decisions once she realised it was a part of you cementing a life in Spain.

“Well you know, I’m kinda really good at what I do…” you saw her face drop slightly, though she quickly recovered, “well… what I did… you know. And I still love it, that will never change even after… everything…” you felt her squeeze your waist tighter at that. “but my skills outdoors, survival, foraging, working knots…” 

Well.

She couldn’t deny that. - you had accidentally become barca’s unofficial shoelace captain after you’d tied Mapis boots once for her when she’d dislocated her thumb, and they had to be cut off. Suddenly you had a whole teamload of girls queuing up for your services, headed by your girlfriend.

She was the only one who got a kiss on the knee as you finished up though.

Alexia immediately declared it a pre-match requirement.

“Si?” she asked, somewhat desperately.

“So I am thinking. I would like to join the British Army.”

A breath of silence, a beat, maybe not even more than 3 seconds until…

“Si crees que voy a aceptar que te unas al puto ejército, estás literalmente loco!, No, No, Absolutely not.” she was up now, you tossed aside as she started pacing… whilst you were on the couch…

Laughing your arse off.

“Que. What is so funny tu idiota?” she took a pause in her pacing, her stern face directed directly at you, hands raised in despair.

“I’m only joking Ale!” you giggled to yourself, wiping tears from your eyes. “Come get back here you big oaf.” you dragged her back into your embrace.

“You are not funny.” You could have camped on that bottom lip as she pouted.

“I am a little funny.” you'd bantered, showing a measurement of how funny you thought you were with your forefinger and thumb, which she pushed together with a huff.

But you noticed that she didn't let go of your hand.

Softie.

“Ok not funny my love I’m sorry. No, never the army. I do not want danger. Or travel for months at a time.  That part of my life is over.”

“sí, lo es” she’d mumbled.

“But, I do still have the contact urge to be outdoors. To share what I know. To show people the world.” you spoke with so much passion that she couldn’t help but nod. It was that same spark that she fell in love with.

“So, I have spoken to Mario…”

A smile appeared on her face. God. She loved that guy. He was a lovable rogue and she loved when he and his tribe of kids would join you at games. Sometimes she’d secretly watch you from the tunnel play with them whilst you all waited for the game to start. It made her heart flutter as they clambered all over you.

“... and he’s up for it too. If we go into business together. Guided tours and expeditions. Like how we met. But permanently. It would be based here, in Spain, and obviously I would be travelling but no more than a week or two at a time, and it would all be very low level and safe. Nothing big…. But if it makes you un…”

You were abruptly stopped in your rambling by her lips on yours.

“You don’t have to ask my permission mi amor. But I support you. It sounds fantastic. Perfecta para ti.”

You knew she’d support you but you still felt like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders. 

“... but not. Like… exactly like the trip we met on. No? No falling in love with other women, si?” 

You’d burst out laughing at the ridiculousness of your girlfriend at that. “No, my love, never.” you’d muttered into her lips.

As you sit now, in your tree-lined garden on the southern edge of the Montseratt national park, only a short commute from estadi johan cryuff, you couldn’t really imagine a more perfect life.

You’d moved away from the city not long after you’d built your business. Turns out alot of people want a tour that a record-breaking explorer was running, and that's how Christopher Colum-Tours became a massive success.

You were booked for years in advance.

Mostly because you made sure you took so few, but well paying jobs. You thought the name was hilarious, when Alexia didn’t you were sure it was lost in translation.

She assured you it was not.

You’d mentioned it in passing to her that you needed more space to store all of your kit, but you didn’t expect her eyes to light up and to wake up the next day with 20 different house viewings booked.

She was literally buzzing with excitement, dragging you around Spanish villas on the edges of Barcelona, pointing out coving and brickwork. You'd never been fancy, you didn't care.

Until you walked into the last house on the list. And you knew you would build your life there.

It was on the southern edge of the national park, more modest than the others you had seen but views from the master balcony were endless and beautiful. It was surrounded by forest and its garden wasn’t as sculpted as you’d gotten used to in these multi million villas.

It was a wild garden with a natural-styled pool and a built-in fire pit.

It blended into the landscape it was built within.

Alexia has found you on the balcony, giddy about beams and authentic features, and all it had taken was one look in her eyes before she was squealing with glee “It's this one isn’t it amor!”.

Alexia had tried to pay outright cash. But you had refused. You both went on the mortgage and you loved that, that piece of paper connected you.

When you tried to explain that to her she’d lovingly rolled her eyes, “only you would see the good side to tens of hundreds of euros worth of debt and interest, Mi Amor.”

But you knew that meant she agreed. And she loved you.

So no, you couldn’t really understand the melancholy that was settling over you at the moment.

You’d just returned from a trip to England for your brother's birthday. Even though you now lived in Spain you’d been able to go to more family events than ever before, with your lack of travelling the world. 

You made the journey across every few weeks, usually when Alexia was away with a game or the national team. And you’d loved being more dependable to your family, with your nieces and nephews, being a part of their growing up.

Maybe that's why you are a bit sad now. It's November 3rd. The Spanish air was crisp but you couldn’t see your breath in the air like you could in England. The smell was all forest and fresh air. The days are still bright. There wasn’t a lingering fog in the evenings, or the smell of burning sulphur with the symphony of rogue fireworks being set off until the early hours.

Because this week was your favourite week growing up.

Mischief week, the firemen who visited your school had called it.

The week between Halloween and Bonfire night when kids lost their minds, hyped up on sweets and adrenaline. Bonfire displays all around your village and fireworks bursting the sky into life. You’d go to the cricket club display every year, warmed by the bonfire and cider. You’d eat toffee apples and hotpot. You’d spend the rest of the week sitting in your living room with the lights off watching the sky light up.

Usually you didn’t even notice what you were missing out on. But you had a home now. And you felt a little sad to be missing out on the festivities that your family group chat was organising.

But Alexia had just returned from National Camp. And she was always a bit down when she returned. Even if she pretended not to be. So you wouldn’t have delayed your return to Spain for all of the world.

You’d picked her up from the airport in your battered truck that she pretended she hated, spent a cosy evening together sharing food and soft kisses.

She’d gone to wash the plane off her whilst you wandered to your favourite part of the house and built a fire.

You tried to not drown in your own melancholy as you stared skywards. You heard the sliding of the patio door and you didn’t need to open your eyes to imagine your girlfriend making her way out to you. Cup of tea in one hand and ginger tea in the other. Scuttling barefoot with a blanket draped over her head adorably, muttering about you insisting on being outside. 

And when you felt a warm mug pressed into your hands you knew your image had been correct, you couldn’t hide your shy smile as you felt a kiss being dropped to your neck as she settled on the other side of the garden furniture, legs draped into your lap. You enjoyed the warmth of her legs as you continued to look skyward.

You didn’t realise how much time had passed until you felt Alexia sit up next to you and stroke your hair behind your ear.

“¿Qué pasa mi amor?” she’d whispered into the silence of the evening. You turned your head towards her, “Nothing, love, sorry I was just in my own world for a second there.” you smiled at her, reassuringly.

“en tu propio mundo…” she muttered to herself, struggling for a moment with the translation. “Ah, well. I thought so, usually I don't need to even think it before you’re massaging my knee, I was practically kicking you there carino and nothing.” she’d laughed lightly, as you flicked her playfully on the nose, whilst still moving your spare hand under the blanket and digging into the flesh of her calf, glad she’d asked for what she wanted.

“Let me in ti mundo, mi amor. What's on your mind.” she asked, lovingly, whilst laying back down, suppressing a groan as your hands manipulated the tissue around her knee cap, digging into the tightness that you found there with practised ease.

“Nada, soy buena.” you’d replied, purposefully timing your reply with a particularly satisfying knead just under her kneecap, making the beautiful blonde groan loudly, “Shhh, Ale. You don’t want to give the neighbours a show.”

She lightly kicked out at you at your teasing comment, rolling her eyes, “We don’t have any neighbours idiota, unless you count that molesta goat that you insist on feeding when he turns up in the garden.”

“His name is Billy and he’s my friend. You keep Billy out of this.” you allow a beat of silence, “And he’s not a goat he’s a mountain goat, he’s manly, don’t upset him…” you raise your voice “Billy if you’re listening ignore her she’s being mean!... Hey! Ale stop kicking me! I am not a ball.”

“You're trying to distract me.” she says, plainly. “What are you thinking?”, the way her eyes look at you with so much love stops any lie that was on the tip of your tongue.

“It’s silly…” another huff from the side of you, “I’m just missing home a little but thats all.” you admit, and her face drops. “No, not home, sorry, England. Home is here with you. Obviously.” you panic, you don’t want to upset her, Alexia is home. 

You don’t know what's come over you but you can’t stop speaking, 

“It’s just this time of year, it's my favourite time of year that's all. I never missed it when I was away, I didn’t have time to. But now I feel so at home here. With you. That it just feels a bit weird to not be doing what I did growing up and if we had kid…” you stop yourself, eyes widening.

Her smile is breathtaking. Her eyes light up and it's all teeth. But she gives you an out.

“And what would you usually be doing at this time of year, mi amor?” she asks,

“You know… Remember, Remember, the 5th of November…” you trail off, speaking in that rhythmic way British school kids are taught. Her blank expression makes you continue “...gunpowder, treason and plot. No? Really? I’m sure I was taught he was Spanish.”

“Amor, you are speaking in riddles. Help me here.” she asks, with a laugh teasing her lips.

“It's Bonfire Night, Guy Fawkes Night, Fireworks Night… whatever you call it.”

“I think Amor, we call it a Thursday Night.”

“Oh. Yeah, no of course. Sorry.”

“Why are you apologising to me? Tell me about it. Tell me what you’d be doing.” she asks, so genuinely that it cracks your heart wide open.

So you do, you tell her.

You tell her all about what you were taught in school. About Guido and his gang of conspirators, about parliament, about gunpowder and about the plan to blow up the King. You tell her about hanging, drawing and quartering, laughing at her squeamishness. You feel yourself getting giddy as you wrack the corners of your brain trying to remember all of the story you were brought up on. 

You tell her about penny for a guy, about kids sitting outside shops with their effigies for pennies, you tell her about your dad setting off fireworks in your street, almost blowing himself up, and then your mum insisting you go only to the official bonfire at the cricket club from that year onwards and watch the effigy being burnt on the enormous fire.

Alexia listened with rapt attention, and as you stopped for breath she spoke; “esperar, esperar, so let me get this correcta. Some guy 500 years ago tried to blow up cortes generales, so they graphically and publicly murdered him… and you celebrate that, as a country every year, by… kids begging and burning him on a fire you all go stand around?... In November?”

“Si.” you reply, with a smile and a nod, eyes moving back skywards.

“Estás todo loco” she laughs.

And you suppose it is. A bit mad, when you think about it really. But you were feeling a bit sensitive and a bit… mocked?

You felt like how you feel when someone would name-call your brother on the playground. You can do that. He’s your brother. But someone else can’t. Because that's your brother.

Alexia can’t mock your traditions. They’re yours. God knows you’d bit your lip throughout all of hers. I mean. If you could get through the explanation of a literal model of a pooping Alexia on your Nativity last year you felt like maybe she would get this. You even graciously accepted your own Canager from Eli with a smile.

You took a moment, a deep breath, you knew you were being sensitive, out of character. 

You knew usually you’d join in with her laughter, maybe tickle her and have a fake argument about it just as an excuse to make up. But you weren’t really feeling it today.

“Well, let’s agree to disagree, yeah?” you turned and smiled, you moved her trouser leg back down under the blanket, gave her knee a pat and moved her legs off you to stand. Whilst she looked up at you in bewilderment, with wide, curious eyes.

“I’m gonna get to bed love, I’m really tired all of a sudden, going to get my head down before I wake myself up again, you okay sorting the fire and locking up?”

She nodded, lost for words for a moment, practically having whiplash at the mood swing. You didn’t let Alexia lock up, or sort the fire. They’re your jobs. Always have been. Keeping you both safe. So she knew you were upset.

“Amo…” she started but she heard the patio door slide closed and moved to throw some sand onto the fire. She noticed your mug of tea on the arm of the sofa where you’d been sitting.

And when she saw that it was still half full she knew. 

She’d fucked up.

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“....and then she said, estemos de acuerdo en no estar de acuerdo, and went to bed! And Mapi. She left her tea!” Alexia explained, desperately to her best friend, the next morning at training.

“...It’s only tea Ale.” Mapi tried to reassure her, “It means nothing amiga I am sure.”

“No, you don’t understand. And she was asleep when I went to bed and it wasn't even 10 minutes later. And then this morning, she was still asleep. She’s never still asleep. You know her Maps, she's up with the sun and…” the midfielder lowered her voice further,

“she always makes me a coffee with the cute foam heart and she didn’t but maybe she’s just tired, I thought, but then I looked and I saw she must have been up that morning because there was food out in the garden for that stupid goat… so was she pretending to be asleep to not speak with me?”

Alexia's voice got more and more panicked as she rambled on.

Mapis' heart melted for her friend,  the panic in her face reminded her of the Ale who used to pace the changing rooms with her phone cemented to her hand waiting for word from you. Of the Alexia who missed games because she made herself sick with worry that you were dead somewhere. She hadn’t seen this Ale for a while. She needed to help.

“Keira! Come here!” Mapi shouted over to the red haired midfielder.

“Mapi! Shh. Don’t! What are you doing!” Alexia hissed,

“I think this is a British problem, Ale, we need an expert.” 

“Well, why shout across the room? Lucy is standing right there.” Alexia pointed to the defender who was currently pretending her shin pads were lightsabers.

“Lucy thinks she’s Spanish.”

Alexia hummed. 

Fair point.

“What's up guys? Skip? Why do you have that face on?”

“Say the thing Capi. You know… the spell thing.” Mapi painfully nudged her captain in the ribs… “Que?... Oh…. Remember Remember the 5th of November....”

“Gunpowder, treason and plot, I see no reason, why gunpowder treason, should ever be forgot. Yeah? Why are we doing nursery rhymes” Keria recited, without a pause. Looking at them both, curiously.

“See it is a thing!” Alexia exclaimed, hitting Mapi over the head, “tell her what happened Capi.” Mapi asked, as Keira settled between the two.

As her story came to a close Alexia began to finish up… “and then she said we should ‘agree to disagree’” at this Keria winced but gestured for her skipper to carry on “...and then she went to bed but didn’t finish her tea.” Keira audibly groaned at that, moving to grab the taller girl's shoulder.

“Sorry Skip, In British ‘agree to disagree’ means, ‘I’m really upset but I don’t want to talk about it’ and well… I think it's a crime to leave a cup of tea. She must have really wanted to get out of there.”

“But why! I don’t know what I did!” the blonde groans into her hands.

“We’ll figure it out, amiga” Mapi reassured her, rubbing her back sympathetically.

“Erm…” Keria looked up, unsure.

“What?” Alexia's head shot up, looking at her teammate.

“I don’t want to talk out of turn Skip.. but…”

“No, go on, help me, please. What did I do?” Alexia asks, desperately.

“You can be... Well... You can all be… a bit. Catalan?”

“Que?!” the captain exclaimed, “What does that mean? I am Catalan!”

“No, No I know. And it's not a bad thing. But. You know, there's a lot. A lot to remember, Saint Jordi, all the pan con tomate…the loud dinners, the touching, the human towers… the fire-devil thing. And it's great! I love it! I respect it, And I know she does too but…”

“But…?” Mapi and Alexia ask together, looking everything like school children at a lesson, pencils poised. 

“But. And I am just guessing here…”

“Speak Keira or I will make you run laps.” the captain threatens.

“Maybe, you could… you know… try a bit… and I mean… a little bit. With some English things?” she finishes her sentence as a question, nervous to criticise her well-respected captain in any way.

“What do you mean! I do! I respect her! And all her things!”

“I know it's not on purpose Ale. But how would you feel if she said Sainte Jordi was silly.”

“It’s not silly! It's special, Mi Papi used to get me and Alba a rose every year and I still remember it now. I love doing it every year. It makes me feel… oh.”

“Yeah. And you know, me and Lucy come round for Sunday roast every month and you always go out.” she’d started now so she supposed, in-for a penny in for a pound, “and when she put an orange in your stocking at Christmas you laughed and told her it was a bad football and kicked it at her.”

Alexia looks at her teammate, cluelessly, whilst Mapi sniggers behind her hand,

“Alexia, It’s an English thing. Oranges don’t grow in England. They used to be a luxury so people would give them at Christmas to people they love. Like a sign of sharing?...and on pancake day you told her it went against your diet plan…” 

“Didn't she literally fell a tree last year to make you your own Caga Tio? She asked me where Onas was from, I said Amazon and I'm fairly sure she thought I meant the rainforest…” Lucy joined in on the salt being rubbed into the enormous wound party that Alexia didn't even know she was hosting. 

“Okay, Okay, I get it.” The captain said. Raising her hand. She felt terrible. She did go out on what she’d dubbed ‘English-Night’ when Keira, Lucy and sometimes Ona would invade her kitchen and cook weird food and watch English TV shows.

But she thought you'd want to enjoy your evening in English without her. And the pancake thing… well. It did go against her diet plan. 

You never said it was a tradition. 

She would have made an exception. 

She'd do anything for you.

You happily went along with all of her things, she had never even told you about Caga Tio, you'd found out on your own and done such an incredibly sweet thing that Alexia had cried and slept with it next to her side of the bed for a week. 

Not that she'd tell her teammates that. 

She hadn’t realised you’d been trying to share your traditions with her and she’d been closing it down.

“Why didn’t she say anything?” Alexia asks helplessly,  

“Because she loves you, and she doesn’t care as long as you’re happy I suppose… and also… because she’s English.”

This made her roll her eyes in frustration.

She felt ignorant.

She would fix this.

“Mapi, I need your help.”

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You’d managed to shake off your little moodswing by the early afternoon.

You’d spent the morning answering a few work emails and planning a few new routes. As you set off for your run you felt noticeably brighter, calculating that if you did a bit of a longer run than usual then Alexia should be back home when you returned.

Sometimes you did that on purpose, and went on a longer run so she would be home when you got back. Like when you go to the toilet in a restaurant and you're excited when your meal is at the table when you return.

A little treat for yourself. 

God you had it bad.

You really wanted to spend time with your girlfriend, you felt a little bad about your moodiness and you wanted to make it up to her.

So when you got home from your trail run to a driveway with just your truck in it you tried to keep the sadness down. Training must have gone on this afternoon, sometimes that happened.

By the time early evening rolled around, you got a bit concerned, just as you picked up your phone it vibrates in your hand.

sorry Mi Amor, training turned into watching film, I will eat with Mapi at the canteen, see you soon, love you, miss you xx

You let out a little huff of annoyance to yourself. It's not Alexia's fault that you wasted your time together yesterday being moody. It's not her fault she's stuck at work.

At least her version of being stuck at work isn't being trapped under a mountain of snow and slowly dying.

Your little internal monologue of darkness makes you chuckle to yourself but your attention is grabbed by a knock on the front door.

“Hola Chica!!!”

You suddenly have a facefull of hair and are pulled into the bosom of a very loud and excitable Alba Putellas.

“Hi Alba! What are you doing here?” you ask, trying to not be rude but also wondering what has dragged the famously city-slicking younger Putellas out into the sticks.

“Que? Can a girl not come and spend the evening with their future cuñada? What's with the million questions hermana!” she blusters past you and into the entryway, leaving you standing with your mouth hanging open at the door as she settles into your sofa.

“... I asked one question” you mumbled to no one as you closed the door with the tornado now inside your home.

You explained that Ale was stuck at work, but Alba dismissed your apologies with a flick of her hand. “I'm not here for her, I’ve spent too much time with her, I think we should spend the evening together. Hermana to future Hermana.”

“Erm… sure.” You got on well with Alba. You got on well with all of Ales' family. They;d welcomed you as one of their own immediately. Eli had taken a vested interest in “getting you back up to strength” after your accident. That mainly consisted of not letting you leave the dinner table until eating 3 full plates of paella.

Usually though, Alba could be found in the bars of Barna, not in your living room, and you had a feeling that she knew Alexia was stuck at work. Which meant that Ale had sent her to spend the evening with you. And you hadn’t gotten away with your melancholy without her notice yesterday like you hoped you had.

Still, the thought of her sending her sister to keep you company warmed your heart.

Hours later your stomach hurt from laughing so much, and you felt ill with the amount of food you’d consumed. You and Alba had spent the evening watching telenovelas and cackling at the erratic storylines. Alba would insist every character was gay and you would nearly wet yourself with laughter when in 4 episodes she was proven right.

It's late when you hear the door slam in the hallway, you glance up at the clock and see its later than you even imagined.

“Hola cariño!” Alexia yells from the hall, and you can hear her shoes being kicked off and bag being shoved into the hall cupboard.

“Hola, my love!” Alba mocks back, voice high pitched and sounding resolutely nothing like yours.

You shove her by her shoulder as you rise to greet your girlfriend.

“Hola, my love.” you repeat as you greet her, settling into her open arms and nuzzling into her neck dropping a kiss against her warm skin you find there.

You take a deep breath of the taller woman. “Ale… why do you smell like… onions?” you ask, curiously.

“Vale, vale, I am going to bed before the show starts.” Alba interrupts as Alexia separates herself from you in order to reach across and slap her sister's head.

“Oh, Si? Si Alba, of course you can stay over. Thank you for asking.” she shouts sarcastically at her sisters retreating from. Grumbling to herself as she turns back to her.

“Oh behave you big grump you love it when she stays over.” you whisper, falling into her arms again, settling into her warmth. “Long day?”

You feel the tension leave her body now she's home. “Si… we got lots done though,”

“Good. Feel ready for the weekend then?” you ask, she had a game on Saturday and you know she preferred to be over prepared.

“The weekend?”

“Si, the game? Seville?” you ask, with a laugh to your voice. She must be tired.

“Oh, si, sorry, of course. I am tired mi amor. Yes. I feel ready.” she replies, moving to face you more closely, large hand cupping your cheek and dropping a quick kiss to your lips.

She moves away but you aren’t finished. You've had a long day of missing your girlfriend. And you pull her closer and deepen the kiss, moulding your lips to hers and groaning when she accepts your tongue in her mouth. As you break apart for breath you hear her mutter a little ‘wow’, which melts your heart.

Seriously, only your world famous, drop dead gorgeous, professional footballing girlfriend can get so worked up over some heavy petting.

It's her turn to pull your lips back together and you enjoy swapping sweet kisses before you pull apart… “Al…” she's moved down to your neck… “Ale… why do you taste like… pepper?”

“Huh?” you can’t see her face as she continues to press kisses down your neck. “Don’t know what you’re talking about amor.” she seems to have decided she's finished with your neck for now as she takes a step back.

“I better go wash the day off me. Meet you in bed?” she asks, and who are you to refuse as you nod your agreement and start to tidy the living room as she leaves for upstairs.

“Hey?” you look up and she's popped her head back into the living room, “I missed you today.” she says, simply. Cheeky smile on her face.

Alexia was the most intelligent and complex woman you knew. But sometimes her ability to be so simple was the thing that made you fall so deeply in love with her. She missed you, so she told you.

“I missed you too, love.” you reply, softly. 

She smiles satisfied, and moves from the doorway again. For 3 seconds until she reappears.

“Don’t go to sleep til I’m there por favor, I want to fall asleep together.” you feel your blush start to creep up your neck and open your mouth to reply before,

“Ay dios mio, perdedora! It's a shower, you aren’t going to drown. How do either of you get anything done!” Alba shouts from the top of the stairs, and your girlfriend's head quickly disappears again, before you hear a scream and the thunder of her scaling the stairs…

“vuelve aquí diablo!”

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You drummed your fingers on the steering wheel as you waited for your girlfriend outside of the training buildings. It wasn’t usual but she’d asked you to pick her up that morning.

As you’d passed her her morning coffee (foam art included), she’d taken a moment longer than usual giving you a soft morning kiss and breathing you in before she asked you to keep the afternoon free.

“I want to take you on a date, Mi Amor.” she’d mumbled, cutely, “Alba will take me back into the city, then you can pick me up after your session at the school, dress warm.”

“I haven’t said yes yet!” you’d teased, with a roll of your eyes, “and hey, what they say is true, el romance esta muerto! I am picking you up for a date you asked me on! Tut. Ale. You used to be suave.”

“soy muy suave.” she’d confidently replied. “You’ll see on our date… that you’re picking me up for”.

A cheeky smile and a pat on the bum later she’d chased Alba out of the house, and suddenly you felt like you were watching the vision that Eli had grown old too.

Two bickering Putellas sisters acting like teenagers on their way to the school bus, hitting each other and Alba chasing Alexia down the drive after one kick too many.

So, you’d done as you were told and after your talk with 28 school kids about basic survival skills here you find yourself patiently waiting for your girlfriend.

The door to the training facility opened and you were surprised to see Alexia emerge bundled up in far too many layers and knit hat cutely adorned on her head. She really was adverse to the cold. Usually she’d be the last to leave training, insisting on a team talk or taking extra free kicks, but she searched the car park eagerly and eyes lit up as she took you in in your beat up old blue pickup truck.

The next surprise she gave you was when she didn’t hurry to the passenger seat, instead making her way to your window and, when you didn’t move, knocking on it with a rap of her knuckles. You roll the window down with a quick of your eyebrow.

“Can I help you señora?” you ask, “Si, mover… por favour. I am driving.”

The absurdity of her comment makes you bark out a laugh, but you do as your told,

“Ale, you hate my truck.”

“I have never said that.”

“Yes you have. One million times. ‘Mi Amor, your truck brings our house price down.’...’Amor, your truck is warming the planet. I thought you liked trees.’...”Amor, your truck is so loud that I think a dinosaur is coming up the driveway…” you imitate, crudely but with a gentle laugh.

She just fixes you with a stern eye as she turns the key, a large grinding sound coming from the engine.

“In gear please Ale!”..."Ah, Si.” followed by the successful roar of the engine.

“Remember love, she doesn't have any heated seats, we listen to my Beatles CD cause its stuck in the player, and the gearbox is a little worn so please… be gentle”

“Weird, usually you aren’t asking me to be gentle.” she dryly replies, eyebrow arched and make you blush. She moves her hand to your thigh and you take it in both of yours as she asks about the school you spoke in, she listens with rapt attention and you bask in the way her eyes light up when she tells you about how Jana finally mastered a trick she’d been working on.

You’d gotten so lost in conversation and checking out your hot girlfriend that you’d forgotten to check your destination until you felt the truck come to a halt.

As you looked around you saw you were in a small car park, a familiar style building imposing in front of you.

A stadium.

You can’t help but be a little disappointed, if Ale’s idea of date night had transformed into football games then you may as well start just going to training with her to keep your romantic life alive.

“Oh. Lovely.” you’d hoped you’d infused as much enthusiasm into your tone as you could. Just happy to spend time with the blonde. “Who’s playing?”

“Barca.” she’d replied, getting out of the car and hurrying to your door, all the while holding her hand up as she hurried past the bonnet indicating to you that she wanted to open it.

She’d taken your hand in her large one and started to walk towards the stadium, you looked around and took in a few people milling about, some with unrecognisable kit on.

You don’t know if a temporary deafness had taken over your girlfriend but she ignored you as she pulled you towards the turnstiles. It was a much smaller stadium than your girlfriend usually played at, and it was quick to get into the grounds.

“Ah, gran admirador?” the steward asked, as he pointed at your trusty blaugrana laces, and you just smile and nod, no idea what's going on.

As you looked up you were at pitch level and you saw a familiar sight of… ‘H’ shaped sticks? You almost broke your own neck at the speed at which you spun to look at your girlfriend who was staring at you with a Cheshire cat grin splitting her face.

“We’re here to watch Rugby!” she practically cheers, clearly very happy with herself.

You’d always used it as a weapon to tease your football-obsessed captain-girlfriend with, that you had been brought up on Rugby. Your brother played and you’d spend weekends down at the Rugby Club cheering on at the side lines. Your dad followed the town team religiously and you’d been dragged down to London more than once for cup finals.

As your world got bigger your love for the game diminished but the familiar smell of tiger balm and clack of metal studs always managed to make you feel 9 again down at the local rugby club.

You felt a childlike giddiness erupt from your stomach as you took in your glowing girlfriend. “Ale, this is… this is…” you feel a bit emotional as you struggle to get your words out, your girlfriend saves you.

“Vamos! Let's go find the best place to watch!” Alexia drags you into the small stands which are sparsely occupied. 

“I didn’t even know Barcelona had a rugby team…” you say as you take your seat,

“Si, they do. They were promoted in 2006 but have been struggling since… they are currently 4th in the league though and today they’re playing 3rd so it…”

You interrupt your girlfriend by pressing a kiss to her lips, unable to stop your affection as you realise how much she had researched for you. “Te amo.” you mutter into her lips. You open your eyes before her and see her sit with her eyes closed for a moment, smile teasing on her lips, dazed.

“yo también te amo cariño” she replies, opening her eyes, “now come, watch. They're kicking off.”

You thoroughly enjoy yourself for the next 80 minutes. You realise that you have never watched a sports game with Alexia. Usually watching her or if she wasn’t playing she’d be sat on the bench with the team. 

She’d usually be too invested and serious to have a fun time. But here, without being impacted by the outcome, nor really having any idea what was going on. Alexia was clearly having the time of her life.

She was giving off serious big dick energy, sitting in her plastic chair like she owned the stadium, legs spread wide and ankles hooked as she took in the pitch before her. Alexia wasn’t into PDA, however, here she pulled you close to her as though you were in your living room, clearly happy that she wouldn’t be bothered by anyone at a sparsely populated Rugby game. 

“Amor, comer aqui. Explain this to me… “ she'd gestured to the pitch before her with one hand and pulled you closer with the other, draping both of your legs over one of hers so your legs dangled between hers, and you sat sideways facing her as she rested her arm around your shoulders. 

You tried to ignore the feel of her strong thigh muscle underneath yours. Noticeable even though two sets of heavy clothing. 

She started to play with the baby hairs at the nape of your neck as you tried to explain a scrum, mauls and drop kicks.

But you found yourself watching her side profile more than the game, her sharp jaw, the curve of her eyebrow. How cute she looked in her little barca beanie, eyes bright with excitement. 

She gives your hair a little tug, “Mira el juego bebe…” she mutters, eyes still looking forward but a grin teasing her lips, “...I paid a good €8 for these tickets.”

You laugh and concentrate on the game before you, laughing at Alexia's commentary throughout, ‘you can use your hands! How is it even that hard!’ until a big hit where she would recoil into herself and muttered ‘nevermind’.

She would cheer every time someone kicked the ball and when you got into the game and shouted “Offside ref!!” she hushed you and insisted that it wasn’t, until you explained the offside rule was different and her mind nearly exploded. 

It was a close game and you found yourself sucked in.

Becoming more animated until the final play of the game, Barca had possession and you couldn’t help it when you stood up and shouted, “stick it up your jumper… go on… RUN….ooooh!”, you looked down and saw Alexia looking up at you with wide eyes, a teasing glint in them, you grew flushed and sat down tentatively, “Amor, I have never seen you so… aggressive… I like it.” she decided, smirk on her lips.

Barca ended up losing but it didn’t take away any of the shine from the day, as you left the stadium you swung your hands between your bodies with excitement, “Ale, that was the best surprise date ever. Thank you.”

You noticed that a look you didn’t recognise flashed across her face as she opened the door for you, guiding you into the passenger seat with a kiss.

“Can we go to Casa Pepe for some dinner?” you ask, looking out of the window and taking in the darkened sky, “No.” she replied, which caused you to turn, and you saw a wry grin on her face, “date isn’t over yet amor, I have plans on plans. Sit back and enjoy the ride.”

Alexia then goes onto stall the truck and take off to a stuttering start, and because she was being so sweet you didn’t say anything but looked out of the window to hide your face.

“Shut up.” she chides anyway.

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You’re confused as Alexia drives your truck off road and onto a beach just outside the main area of Barcelona. You see fairy lights in front of you and a huddle of cars and people milling around.

“What's going on Ale?” you ask, trying to take in the look on her face in the darkness of the cab of your truck as she reverses into a semi-circle with some other cars.

She doesn’t have a chance to answer before you are startled by a knock on your window and Mapis' face pressed against the glass with glee.

“You’re here! You’re here! Finally… Capi, can we start it now pleaaaase….” Mapi is silenced by her girlfriend who has made her way over and pulled her from the window. “Give them a second kjære, come, I need your help over here…” and Ingrid winks at you as she leads her excitable puppy of a girlfriend away.

You remain not having any clue about what the hell is going on.

Alexia has slipped out of the truck and moved around to your side, opening the door and you spin on the bench, widen your legs, and pull her between them.

She looks at you with a wide, open expression.

“Remember, Remember, the 5th of November…” she starts, which immediately causes the penny to drop, as you look to the scene on the beach before you.

A large unlit bonfire stands a safe distance from the trunk of your car, you continue to look around and see Eli ordering around most of Alexias team mates and even some backroom staff you recognise from the training grounds, as she stands in charge of what seems to be a crudely put together buffet table. Illuminated by fairy lights you see pots of steaming food which she stirs intermittently.

You even spotted Mario with his newly pregnant (again!) wife and his tribe of kids playing with a small football alongside Jana and Marta.

You can’t help the tears that come to your eyes at the scene before you.

“I am so grateful for you Amor…” she starts, “You have fit so well into my family and life that maybe I missed some things about your family and life…”

“No Ale.”

“No it’s okay, I know you love me. But I wanted to do this for you. But then… well. It escalated. I asked Keira and Lucy for help but then they got so excited about bonfire night that they kind of invited themselves, and then one person turned into another… and then, as soon as Mapi found out there were explosives and fire I couldn’t keep her away. And well, Ingrid had to come because she has a vested interest in keeping Mapis fingers attached to her body. And well. At that point it had got so big that I just invited anyone from the club who wanted to come, and their families. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Of course I don’t mind! This is the sweetest thing in the world… Is that…” you sniff up… “hotpot?!”

Alexia soon became old news as you scurried over to Eli and the food table, kissing her in greeting and falling into her embrace, there were bubbling pots of Chilli, Hotpot, Mushy Peas and even a tray of toffee apples.

Ingrid had come over and presented a tray of parkin that she had baked, beautifully presented in the elegant way that only the Norwegian could. “I hope this is right, I googled it and Mapi taste tested it and she was happy, but honestly, she’s happy if I give her dog food so i’m not sure she's the best judge.”

“Ingrid it’s perfect.” you assured her, the grin breaking your face convincing her more than your words.

“Can we set the fire yet!” Mapi had shouted across the set up, bottle of accelerant in hand that she had been spraying onto the pile of dried wood. A somewhat maniacal look on her face.

One of the physios took the bottle from her hand gently and pushed her towards Ingrid, taking over the situation when he recognised there was a chance the whole beach was going up in flames if she was left in charge.

As the fire grew and grew, everyone's faces were bathed in the golden light. The chill was still in the air and you felt a large puffy jacket being slung around your shoulders. Alexia standing behind you, resting her chin on your head as you settled back into her.

“Ale. Is that Guy wearing a Real Madrid jersey?” you asked, amused, as you noticed that the traditional effigy had a familiar football shirt on.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about, amor.” she replied, laughter in her voice. Before you had a chance to tease her further she pinched your hips, “come on, lets get some food! I’m starving, and all this brown British mushy food smells so good…”

Well. At least she was trying.

You ate and ate, you don’t think you’ve ever been as full in your life. Alexia had spent all the evening before perfecting her hotpot recipe with the help of Eli and it was good.

She’d even shown you the burn marks on her fingers where the hot toffee from the toffee apples has caught on her skin.

Eli told you how Alexia had turned up at her house with Mapi, arms full of ingredients needing help to make traditional foods, which she then stressed over for the rest of the evening, whilst Mapi paced the kitchen, talking to her ‘fireworks guy’, because of course Mapi had a man with explosives on speed dial. 

You’d told the story of Guy Fawks to an intrigued Irene, Mateo happily munching on a sticky apple on her knee. “Ah, I see… It feels like a cold San Juan. I like it” she’d declared, with an air of finality.

“So… they’re like, guisantes but… pulposa?” you overheard Parti asking Keria, as the ginger was gladly wolfing down a portion of mushy peas. “Yeah! Try them… you’ll love them.”

As a second passes before you hear a distinctive gag and Kerias laughter echoing around you think maybe Patri did not love them. Ona greedily scoffed her own portion down with Lucy looking on, proudly, “Te acostumbras amiga” she jeered towards her retreating friend, who went in search of the drinks table.

The fire dimmed but still fought on and you were shepherded towards your truck by your girlfriend, the hatch had been brought down and you could see that Alexia had stored every spare pillow and blanket from your house and made a cosy nest in the bed of your trunk.

She threw herself in, happy to warm herself in the nestle of blankets, always being more susceptible to the cold. Nose red and beanie pulled low down on her head. She opened her arms invitingly and you settled between her legs, watching the scene before you.

You watched as Alba and her latest girlfriend messed around feeding each other parkin. You watched as Mapi chased Pina around with a sparkler in her hand, the younger girl screaming for her life as Mapi cackled. You watched Eli cooing over Jona’s young baby, looking so confident with the newborn only an experienced mother could. You took in how Lucy seemed to eat her 5th bowl of chilli as Ona chatted her ear off.

The scene was perfect.

Only made more so as you felt Ale move her cold hands beneath your warm clothing, grabbing you around the stomach and resting her hands there, making you hiss at the contact, “buscar mi amor” she whispered into your ear, as you looked to the sky and watched as the familiar explosion of fireworks in the sky above you.

The whoops and hollers of the kids (and Mapi) warmed your heart, as you watched the display you let the the sound of the explosions and the ‘ooh’s’ and ‘ahh’s’ of the families and friends around you seep into your bones. The smell of sulphur invaded your senses and you settled more deeply into the woman behind you.

You quickly snapped a picture to share in your family group chat, quickly joining the tens of fireworks pictures from different displays as you all shared your evening, far away yet able to be involved, thanks to your Ale.

“Tell me about Bonfire Night, Mi Amor, I promise, I do not think it is silly.”

That much was obvious, with the effort she had gone to in such a short space of time. 

You told her about the big fires the village came together to build. How it made your community stronger. The fireworks and how the sky lit up all week. The school projects and crude drawings of fires you would make.  The toffee apples you would get stuck in your teeth and the parkin your mum would bake. 

How the stickiness would sit on your hands for days. How your dad would always throw an unexploded firework into the bonfire without thinking, making him run away from the explosions behind him as you and your brother peeled over with laughter. How the cold would pinch your cheeks and you’d check the bonfire for hedgehogs before it was lit. How you’d spend days building a guy from your dads old clothes stuffed with newspaper. How you would run around with sparklers and spend all the next day picking them up from the streets with your brother and putting them into a bucket.

“It sounds fun, Mi Amor. I am glad you grew up with so much love. I get to benefit from it now.” Alexia had muttered into your hair, and pressed a kiss to your head.

You felt those memories wash over you, and knew that this bonfire night would be right up there with them, cemented as the best times of your life.

Yes, you weren't used to the sound of the waves as you usually watched the bonfire burn, and no, you usually weren’t stood on a bed of sand. No, your usual bonfire night would not consist of Alexia telling off Jana and Patri for sneaking in croquetas behind one of the parked cars, insisting they had to eat the British food prepared.

But the smiles were the same, people coming together around the fire was the same, the children laughing and family enjoying time together was the same, couples falling further in love and cuddling together for warmth was the same, the colours and the sparkles that lit up everyone's faces. The same.

“Thank you Alexia. For all of this. The rugby, this, it’s…It's… perfect.”

“You are perfect.” she’d replied, without hesitation.

You swatted her hand that still rested on your stomach, “Soppy.” you’d admonished.

“Not sorry,” she’d quipped back. You fell into a comfortable silence, enjoying the sound of the fireworks popping above you.

“Our kids will celebrate bonfire night.” she’d let out, suddenly, with certainty. Finishing the thought you’d started to express days earlier. 

Before you had a chance to formulate a thought she continued, “and pancake day. And they will watch Rugby. And football. And celebrate La Mercè. They will know about Sant Jordi. And Saint George.”

“Ale…” you’d let out, wetly, tears brimming in your eyes.

“They will be a mix of both of us. And I will marry you, you know? One day. We will be married.”

There she is again, with her beautiful simplicity.

You don’t really know what to say to that, and you let the silence take hold for a moment.

Where was the woman who blushed in embarrassment when she realised you’d understood her muttered Spanish compliments? Though, you suppose, you’d both changed together. Where was the woman you used to be who would refuse to stay in a postcode for more than 2 weeks?

“ain’t no mountain high enough” you softly sang at her, trailing your fingers down her arm, lightly, it had become your song, between the two of you, when things were bad with your PTSD she would hold you close and sing quietly, in the safety of your bed, her spanish lilt would settle your heart rate and the lyrics would melt the ice in your veins.

Her arms squeeze you tighter, both lost in the safety of your blanket fortress under the stars, surrounded by friends and family but you may as well be the only people on the beach.

“I can’t wait to ask you, officially.”

God if this setup was her idea of a date, you couldn’t imagine her idea of a proposal.

“I can’t wait to say yes” you replied, playing with her ring finger that was settled on your stomach, “officially.” 

You moved back and kissed the tall blonde softly, passionately, until you’re interrupted by Mapi’s aggrieved exclamation;

“Espera! The Guy was ¿Español?”

[chriss-slut]

Puddin'

~ Dom!Chris X sub!fem!reader ~

Synopsis: Your friends slip up who's your favorite character, but also your fantasy kink.

warning: SMUT!! rough unprotected sex, petnames, degradation kink, daddy kink, cursing, and a lot of stuff that i can't even remeber anymore lol

A/N: this is kinda MY fantasy kink so.. 😀 btw if there's any spelling mistakes, im sorry, i didnt have time to check it :)

I have always been, in some way, a big fan of Harley Quinn (if not obsessed). I discovered her when i was around 12 years old, when Suicide Squad came out. Everything about her inspired me. Whether it was her behavior, intelligence, madness, or eccentricity, deep down, I dreamed of being like her, of being as sexy and alluring.

As I grew older, my passion for her became something I no longer showcased, simply out of fear of being judged by others. I was now 20 years old, and it seemed weird, even boring, to others to see me in the same costume at every dress-up party.

When I met Chris, I never really talked to him about this little obsession I had, mainly out of fear that he would find it strange.

Up until now, everything had been going well between us, and I didn't find it important. He didn't need to know more about this subject.

I was at home with Chris and my two best friends. We had planned to spend the afternoon together so they could meet, especially since our relationship had just become official.

Everything was going well until Julia started talking about what I was trying to keep secret:

"Oh, by the way, are you still coming tomorrow night?" Julia asked me, completely changing the subject while munching on her chips.

"Tomorrow night?" I asked, confused.

"Yeah, to Noah's costume party, like every year, Y/N!" she said in a "duh" tone, rolling her eyes.

"Um... I forgot. Honestly, I don't think so. Chris and I had planned to spend the evening together, so it's going to be difficult for me," I said, trying to find a plausible excuse to avoid further questions.

"What??!" she exclaimed, looking disappointed.

"You can come with him, and that way, you can get to know us a bit more, Chris!" added my other friend Stella, turning to my boyfriend with a big smile, and the others nodded in agreement.

"That would be nice," Chris replied with a shrug.

"See? Come on, you're coming. I don't really plan to give you a choice. We go every year, there's no way you're skipping it this time!" Julia added.

"I don't have a costume anyway, and I'm exhausted right now. It's going to be a no from me, guys, sorry," I said, trying to sound genuinely disappointed.

"You're such a liar. Are you going to make me believe you don't have a costume when you spend all your time dressing up as Harley Quinn at every opportunity?" she said, laughing.

My eye widen and i start blushing a bit. Chris turned to me, and i look at Julia with a face that says "Please, just shut your mouth."

"Oh, because, yes, I suppose you already know, but your girlfriend is completely obsessed with Harley Quinn. It's like she's totally in love with her!" Julia said to Chris, giggling.

"Julia! oh my god!" I said, embarrassed, now trying to hide my face in my hands.

"She's not wrong," Stella added. What a bunch of traitors.

"You never told me about this?" Chris said, confused, while I stood there, dying of embarrassment at the thought that the girls might make things worse.

"What, you mean she never bored you with her Harley Quinn obsession? I'm sure her biggest kink would be sleeping with you dressed as her!" Julia said without any restraint, and this time it was too much for me.

"Julia!! What the fuck is wrong with you!" I said, getting angry.

"Wow, calm down, I was just joking," she said, frowning.

Stella's mouth was wide open, and Chris looked like he didn't know where to put himself.

"You guys should go home. 'm tired, I need to rest," I said to escape the situation.

"What, seriously? You're going to be mad at me for this? Y/N!" I heard Julia shout as I left the room.

I went up to my room and shut the door behind me. My reaction was probably over the top, but I didn't want Chris to know about this. She had no right to humiliate me like that in front of him. I bury my face in my pillow and try to think about something else.

After a few minutes, I heard some knocks on my door.

"Julia, go away! I don't want to talk to you!" I shouted from my bed.

I heard the door open anyway, so I turned around to tell her to leave, but to my surprise, it was Chris.

"I'm not Julia, sorry to break it to you," he said, trying to make me laugh.

"It's not funny," I said, rolling my eyes before sitting up on my bed.

"Can I come in?" he asked.

"You're already inside anyway..." I speak, shrugging

"Are you mad at me or Julia? I don't understand anymore," he said, raising an eyebrow and crossing his arms.

"Sorry," I replied, biting my lip, and he came to sit next to me.

"The girls left and asked me to tell you they really want you to be there tomorrow night," he said, placing his hand on the small of my back, and I sighed.

"Listen, I'd be very happy to go with you. I don't mind. We can always come back together and spend time alone after the party, but I don't want you to fight with your friends because of me," he said, and I turned my head towards him.

"That's not why I fought with them, Chris," I said, looking back at the floor.

"Then what was it about?" he asked.

"It's something stupid. I don't really want to talk about it!" I said, feeling the embarrassment return.

"Come on, tell me. I'm not going to judge you," he said, shaking his head.

"No!" I said, avoiding his gaze.

"Is it because of what she said about your obsession with Harley Quinn?" he asked.

"I'm not obsessed with her!" I said, getting angry.

“And that’s not what I implied. I was just repeating her words!” he responded immediately.

I sighed, realizing it was becoming ridiculous to keep this hidden from him any longer.

“Yes…” I said softly.

“Why did it upset you so much?” he asked.

“Because I was afraid she’d say more, and you’d find it weird!” I sighed.

“Why would I find it weird?” he said, gently rubbing my back.

“I don’t know…” I said, shrugging.

“I don’t find you weird, Y/N. You have every right to be a fan of any fictional character if it makes you happy. I really like Harley Quinn, too. You could have told me; I would have been happy to talk about it with you, baby,” he said, smiling.

My eyes sparkle as i hear him say that and i immediately look at him again. “Really?” I said, looking at him with admiration. I truly have a wonderful boyfriend.

“You know what, why don’t you dress up as Harley Quinn, and I’ll be your Joker? That way, you won’t miss the party, and I get to spend time with you and your friends,” he suggested, standing up.

I smiled at him, leaned to hug him tightly, and nodded.

“And when we get back from the party, I’d be happy to fuck you in your costume to fulfill your kink,” he whispered in my ear, playfully smacking my ass.

“Chris, she made that part up!!” I said, blushing deeply.

“Too bad, I was really down for that part,” he said, laughing.

i laugh too, still embarrassed, and i stand up, going to the bathroom.

_______

it's now the next day, almost 8pm, and I'm with my boyfriend arriving at my place. We just left the mall, where we went to buy a Joker costume to him.

i open my front door and we both run towards my room, since we're kinda late.

"dress up in there while i do it in the bathroom, okay?? i want it to be a surprise for you!" i say sweetly, quickly pecking Chris' lips before heading to the bathroom.

after an hour or so, i knock on the bathroom door so i can have Chris' attention and i shout from inside "Are you done??"

"Uh... I've been done for 20 minutes, Y/N." he says from my bedroom.

I burst out laughing for a bit and then i open the door, making a little pose for Chris, showing my costume.

Chris' jaw drops as soon as i open the door. He stands up and stay froze, staring at me.

i giggle softly and go over him, resting my hands in his chest "What'chu think?" i speak, in a slightly higher-pinched voice, trying to recreate Harley's voice.

Chris' jaw just drops more after hear me, he stays froze for a few more moments until he finally speaks. "wow... you look... wow!"

I giggle "you liked it?"

"Liked it? I just fell in love with you all over again!" he says, now hugging me tightly and lifting me from the ground.

I laugh cute and hug him back, tightly. "I'm so happy you liked it!"

Chris buries is face on the crook of my neck, sucking it softly. "There was no way for me to not like it. you look so hot." he whisper before kissing my neck.

I moan softly and move my hand to caress his hair. "thank you, baby..." i speak before pulling away and look at him. "You talking about me when you look like THAT is crazy!"

He grins at me "thank you, sweetheart! Lets go to that party, then?"

"Yeaaah!!" i yell happily, jumping.

He chuckles at my jump and grabs his stuff. We walk out of my house, going to the party.

After a while, we arrive at Noah's house. A lot of people outside of it, all dress up as various characters and monsters. I lead Chris into the party and after a few seconds, Julia and Stella run up to us.

"HEY, GIIIRL!!" Stella yells, happy to see me, as she hugs me from the side.

"Hey, guys!!" Julia shouts at us both, still a bit scared of me being mad at her.

"Hii!" Chris says at them, waving with a smile.

"Hi, girls! Love your costume!" I speak at Stella. She nods with a smile "Thank you! You look amazing yourself, but I'm used to see it already,"

I laugh softly, not really happy about her comment but i brush it off. "You look good too, Ju!" I speak at Julia.

She smiles at me "Thank you! You too, as always... Can i ask you something?" Julia says, with a soft expression. "Yeah, sure!" i say back.

"Uh... i just wanted to know if you're still mad at me for yesterday... I've been thinking about it all night and, I'm sorry..." She speaks softly.

I smile reassuringly "It's okay... I'm sorry too! I shouldn't have become so mad at you..."

She smiles softy and nods "It's okay, i guess we both screwed up!"

"Yeah, but its alright!" i lean to hug her as she does the same.

Suddenly, Stella speaks, loudly. "So, let's party?!?" We all yell "yess!" and that way, the party begins!

______

After hours, me and Chris are going back to my place, tired from dancing and jumping all night.

I open my front door and Chris holds the door for me to enter, smacking my ass playfully as i pass through him.

"Let's to the room. Now." He speaks in a soft but demanding way, which makes me a bit confused but i obey.

Once we get into my room, Chris closes the door behind him and quickly presses me in it, causing me to gasp softly.

"Remember what i told you yesterday??" Chris speaks, his hands caressing my sides.

"U-uh... y-yeah..?" i speak, slightly nervous, since Chris looks so hot and in a rough mood right now.

He smirks and attacks my lips in a hungry kiss. We both make out for a while. As we're still kissing, he puts his hands under my ass and picks me up from the floor, taking me to bed, where he throws me on.

He crawls on top of me and says, looking down at me "You look so damn hot right now. You have no idea how much i had to control myself to not drag you to a bathroom and fuck you right there." He leans and starts kissing my neck, intensively.

I moan in response and i wrap my arms and legs around him, pulling his body closer to mine.

"Tell me, what do you want me to do with you, Puddin'" Chris whispers, making me freeze for a second. Him calling Joker's nickname to Harley made me see stars... and made me wet.

"i-i want you to fuck me..." i say softly.

"huh? i didn't hear you, baby." he says, now lifting his head to look at me.

"i-i want you to fuck me, Chris. Please!" i whine, already desperate.

Chris smirks at me "Good girl" he says before leaning to kiss me again.

While we kiss, he takes off my Harley Quinn Jacket and toss it to the side. He gives wet kisses down my face to my collarbone, where he stays as he takes off my boots.

"mmh, you're so hot, babygirl~" he mumbles as he kisses me.

i moan softly in response, my hands now trying to take his jacket off, which he helps me with.

After a while kissing, he's now in just his jeans as i still have almost the full costume on.

He grabs my jaw tightly and speaks, firmly "you gonna do justice to your costume and act like a little slut f'me?"

I look up at him with puppy eyes and nod. He smirks and whispers "Good girl~" He moves two of his fingers that was on my jaw and slide it into my mouth, pressing it on my tongue.

"Fuck, you look so good like this... oh, imma fuck you so so good today~" He speaks, in a sensual tone.

I moan against his fingers, swirling my tongue around it.

He then takes his fingers off my mouth with a bop and attacks my lips again, then going down to my neck as his hands go under my shirt, caressing my chest over my bra. He lifts my shirt and move his hands to my back, unbuckling my bra and taking it off, without taking off my Harley Quinn shirt.

He then leans and suck my nipples, which makes me moan "mmh Chris...please, i need you..."

Chris lets out a soft chuckle and grabs my jaw again, harshly, making me look at him "I'm the one in control, got it?" he says in a demanding tone. i just nod, looking up at him.

He nods back and start kissing and sucking my breasts again, now going down my stomach, until he reaches my red and blue tight shorts.

"i gotta take this off, it drove me crazy all night." he speaks, now pulling it down, letting me in my fishnet tights, my thongs and my Harley shirt. He looks down at me and bite his lip. Chris caress my thighs and spreads them, softly passing his hand in my clothed pussy, making me whimper. "Chris, Please..."

"Did you not hear me when i said i was in control??" he speaks in a serious tone "I'll do whatever i want with you, understand?"

I sigh softly and nod. "Good." he speaks before slapping my inner thigh hardly, earning a loud moan from me.

"God, you're so good to spank!" he says, slapping my other inner thigh hardly, i moan loud again.

"Turn around f'me, ma" he speaks to me and i immediately do it. He smirk down, looking at my ass, half covered with my square tights and he spanks my ass, strongly. i cry loud, burying my face in my pillow.

He grabs a fist of my hair and pull my head back, for me to look at him. "Don't wanna mess that make up yet, do ya?" i shake my head, whining from the pain in my scalp. He throws my head on the pillow again, now with my head to the side. He slaps my ass again, and again, and again, making me whine in pain, but also in pleasure.

The last time he slaps my ass, he spanks between my ass cheeks, making me moan loud. He lets out a soft chuckle from my reaction and says "Looks like someone likes to be spanked, isn't that truth?" i whine in response and he slaps the same place again, now gripping my hair again. "answer me. with words." he speaks firmly and demanding. "y-yeah, i do... i-... i l-like it..." i speak, whiny. He lets go of my hair and whispers in my ear "you're so pathetic, aren't you? Look at you, looking like a real whore f'me"

He slaps my ass again and turns me around one more time. He digs his fingers in my square tights, right between my legs, and he stretch it out, ripping it over my pussy. He looks at my sexy thong and he looks at me with a smirk. "is this for me?" I nod softly. He slaps my clothed pussy, making me whine loud, with a smirk. "Be ready, i think you'll need to~" he says to me, before ripping my thong and tossing it to the side.

Seeing him ripping my clothes always make me more turned on, seeing his arms muscles flex gives me butterflies.

He slides his finger through my wet slit and he says "so wet for me. such a little slut for liking me treating you like this." He pushes one finger in my hole, making me moan a bit. He keeps with it in, not moving, and he looks at me. "Look at you... I'd take a photo of you just to show everyone how much of a slut you are... looking so good just for me."

Suddenly, Chris pulls his finger out and slam three fingers into me, making me moan. He starts fingering me roughly, hardly and fast.

"O-oh Chris! fuck!" i moan, leaning my head back from the intense pleasure.

He, then, stops again, making me moan frustrated. "All fours. Now." he speaks demanding and i do it, my ass now almost at his face.

Chris slaps my ass and caress my wet cunt. "so beautiful like this, puddin'... so perfect~"

I whine softly in response and he stands up, unbelting his pants. He grabs his belt and hit the bed hardly with it. "If you do something i didn't tell you to, you'll pay for it. Got it?" i nod frantically.

He pulls down his pants and take them off, tossing it to the pile of clothes on the floor. He grips my hips and pull me to the edge of the bed, so he can fuck me while standing up. He grabs both my ponytails and pull my head back. "You gonne be a good girl and not cum for me until i say it, alright? Don't leave this position and don't scream too loud until i let you, alright?" He speaks in a firm and demanding tone.

"Yeah..." i speak softly. "Yeah, what?" Chris says, pulling even more my hair. "Y-yes, daddy..." i whine. Chris slaps my ass and throw my head forward "Good girl~".

Chris rubs his clother hard dick against my wet pussy, making me moan softly. "You're so wet you're making my boxers soaked. slut!" He pulls his boxers down and slams into me, making me scream loud. He lean over my back and slaps his hand on my mouth, pulling it back harshly. "What didn't you understand about not. screaming.?" I whimper, squeezing my eyes shut, and speak against his mouth "i'm sorry..."

Chris lets out a breathy mockingly laugh and takes his hand off my mouth, my head falling down harshly. "fucking pathetic." Chris mutters, now pulling slowly out of me. i whine at the sensation and then moan loud, trying hard not to scream, when he slams into me again.

Chris moves one hand to under my shirt, squeezing my breast, and the other to my hip, now starting to thrust in and out of my cunt.

I moan as he fucks me, slowly. "Chris, please..."

Chris stops middle-way and says demanding "First off, I'm not giving you want you want. second, you're not calling me that."

I whine softly "S-sorry, daddy..." Chris slaps my ass again and start thrusting into me again, still slowly.

After a while, i give up on moaning and i stay quiet. My head down with my eyes squeezed shut. Chris notices that and start going faster, hitting my g-point every time he pushes into me. i moan and i lean down to rest on my elbows, my back arched and my ass higher.

Chris slaps my ass again and groans lowly. "mmh, baby~ why are you so hot and perfect? looking like a real slut like this, while your pussy clenches around me. fuck!" He starts punding harder, slapping my ass a few more times.

I moan deep, trying to not be loud though. Chris keeps pounding into me until my cunt starts clenching too much around his cock. He stops and speaks "You ain't cummin' now, bitch. You know what happens if you do." and starts fucking me hard again. i start moaning louder, trying my hardest to not cum. I whine "p-puddin'... p-please... i-i can't..."

Chris slaps my ass the hardest he can and says, roughly "No. You're not cummin, Y/N. Or should i call you..." he leans over me, putting his mouth right behing my ear "Harley?".

I can feel the knot in my stomach almost exploding ad he whispers that to me. I can't believe I'm finally realizing this fantasy.

He feels my pussy clenching more around him as he says that and he laughs, smacking my ass again. "oh, you liked it, dont you? you want me to call you Harley? Is that it?"

i nod frantically, barely able to speak at this point. "Words." Chris says roughly, pouding into me roughly.

"o-oh.. y-yeah, d-daddy! p-please, c-call me t-that! o-oh, fuck, its so g-good! p-please!" i whine slightly loud, tears forming in my eyes already.

Chris smirks and start fucking me harder and faster. "fuck, ma! s-such a fucking slut! such a whore f'me!" he says, groaning. I'm so glad i told Chris i liked being degrated! I'm wetter than i was supposed to.

i keep moaning loudly "d-daddy, please! i-i need to cum! p-please lemme cum!" i whine.

Suddenly, Chris pulls out and turn me around, so we're now in missionary.

Chris slams into me again and puts his hand around my neck, hard enough to hurt but not for me to be breathless. "If you gonna cum, I'll see you cum. Gotta see that pretty face with that pretty make up all messed up." He puts his hand on my face and slides it down, messing even more my Harley Quinn makeup.

He, then, slides two fingers into my mouth the deepest he can, fucking my mouth as he fucks my cunt. He starts pounding roughly again, making me scream against him fingers, also gagging a bit.

My eyes starts rolling back with tears, just as my back arching and hips jerking up, feeling myself really close to the edge.

"Look at you. All fucked up like a whore. You really became Harley Quinn, didn't you? That hot bitch. I bet you wanna fuck every guy of the city, don'chu? fuck, puddin'. you're so fucking beautiful." Chris speaks between groans as he pounds into me. i start moaning even louder as i feel myself not being able to hold my orgasm anymore. My cunt clenching around Chris' cock just makes him groan and moan more.

"Cum. Cum f'me, Harley. C'mon, babygirl, cum for daddy~" Chris whispers in my ear. That gives me the final push and i finally cum in his cock. Not a simple orgasm, though. All of this roleplay and dirty talk made me cum hard and squirt all over Chris, which makes him cum inside of me and collapse on top of me.

We both panting hard and shaking. We stay there for a while and then Chris pulls out, laying next to me.

"You did so good f'me, Harl..." He speaks softly, caressing my cheek

"y-you too, puddin'..." i say softly, still panting.

Chris leans and kissed my lips, a long peck. When he pulls away, he looks down at me, admiring me. "Why didn't you tell me this before? This was the best sex I've done in my life..."

i smile softly at him and speak softly, now turning to face him, "I'm sorry for that... if i get another kink, I'll promise to tell ya!"

i hope you liked it! pls comment what you think, I'd appreciate it! :) xoxo

[redr0sewrites]

Adam x Reader General Hcs

HAD TO WRITE SOMETHING FOR HIM HES JUST SO. AUGAHGEHEG. i love him. characterizing him is so fun, but so challenging at the same time.

🥀 Cw: adam being adam, sfw + nsfw hcs, smut, breeding kink

🥀minors dni with the nsfw portion

sfw:

Adam is more prone to casual flings and hookups, hes def not huge on relationships and longterm partners

this means that if your with him, you must be pretty special bc hes a huge ass handful

while he is a pretty big douche, adam is definitely loyal imo

deep down, hes still pretty insecure about both lilith and eve, and im a firm believer that he would never cheat on a partner if he was in a serious relationship

adam comes up with very.... interesting nicknames for you that are 10x more vulgar than the ones he uses for everyone else

hes HUGE on nicknames and petnames in general, at the start of a relationship theyre pretty crude and flirty but over time they start to become sweeter

sugartits, doll, sweet cheeks, bitch boy/babe, babycakes, BAE, lemondrop (idk it just fits), mama/mami, honeytits, honestly anything that comes to mind

adam likes to put "my" in front of most of your petnames, its not so much in a possessive way, moreso in a bragging way, he just loves telling the world that your HIS

he also definitely calls you bro, brah, dude, etc he doesn't care that it "doesnt sound romantic" 💀

adam finds the MOST unhinged things hilarious, hes the type to watch those ten hour long youtube videos of a spinning potato chip and laugh every ten seconds

speaking of, he has one of those loud, booming laughs with a slight wheeze to it

"BAAHAHAHAHAH BAE COME HERE LOOK AT THIS HAHA" and its just a low quality video of a water bottle falling over???

100% a shitty pickup line user

and also a shitty flirter in general

his flirting is just

obnoxious

adam is very proud of you, when the two of you officially got together he probably called half of heaven to announce that you two were dating

"THATS MY PARTNER‼️‼️‼️" type of vibes

adam acts like he isnt big on cuddles bit is secretly the clingiest, most touch starved person alive

PLEASE let him hold you, this man is tall af and loves just swallowing you in an embrace

when he was "courting" you (irritating you constantly and flirting with you obnoxiously until you caught on that he was serious) the biggest tell that his feelings were genuine was the amount of physical contact he initiated

adam was always leaning on you, throwing an arm over your shoulder, resting a hand on your thigh, hooking his arm through yours, overall invading your personal space

he was incredibly happy to FINALLY be able to cuddle with you when you both got together, and HAS to fall asleep touching you in some way every night

adam is almost always wearing his exterminator helmet, but he really likes it when you take it off for him at the end of the day. even he doesn't really understand why, but there's something so intimate to him about the fact that you love his real face more than the persona he puts on

he would rather die than admit it tho

hes not good at words or communication in general, and prefers to express his appreciation through actions

he brings you foods that he knows you like on days where you're especially busy, he gives you song recommendations that he'll think you'll like, he'll buy you a trinket he saw you eyeing at the store, just tiny things like that

adam genuinely does care about you, but as per his usual adam-ness, he would rather go bald than live up to that 💀

nsfw:

you cant tell me this man isnt kinky as shit

hes tried pretty much everything

HE LOVES TO HIT FROM THE BACK, DEF LIKES DOGGY STYLE

i also think he would like the mating press too, getting to watch your face as he wrecks you while also having the opportunity to leave bites all over your thighs, and feel them tremble as he fucks you? sign him up!

his dick is big big

i think hed be a little thicker than average, with a few veins running up the underside, but its his length that's downright heavenly

adam keeps himself pretty well groomed, but has a prominent happy trail and light fuzz at the very base of his cock

listen, this is the first man we're talking about, he KNOWS what hes doing

whether you're male or female, he will go down on you

once he buries himself between your thighs youre done for, adam barely comes up for air as he devours you

hes def sloppy w it too, loves when you cum on his face so he can lick it up

enjoys it when you return the favor as well, i actually think hed really realy like receiving head

would def fuck your face until your drooling

if you hve an oral fixation, you're in luck bc he LOVES watching you suck his dick, his fingers, anything really

adam always makes you lick and suck his fingers before fingering you, and will sometimes trigger your gag reflex by shoving them down your throat to watch you gasp and whine

adam has STAMINA, expect to stay up all night bc this man will stop at nothing to make sure you're both satisfied

i swear this man is built to breed, he has a HUGE breeding kink and goes crazy at the sight of his cum dripping from your hole. even if it's physically impossible for you to get pregnant, adam still babbles about "fucking a prety little babe" into you when he cums

adam likes using plugs to make sure his cum stays inside you, he'll also finger it back inside and loves smearing his cum on your thighs and ass

he also brings his fingers up to your face and has you lick the cum off of them

LOOOVEEEESSS marking you, by the end of the night youre always covered in bruises and scratches and hickeys galore

i love adam guys yes ik hes a douche but hes my douche <3

i wish i characterized him better but whateverrrrrr i dont want to write him as a total asshole but hes def not an angel either (haha im so funny💀)