#but it was about al and I tried to finish it...

[mmelete]

If I had a nickel for every time a genuinely nice, positive, occasionally shy but clearly determined character with a hefty side of sass got misinterpreted in the fandom as a cinnamon roll or got infantilized, I would be a millionaire.

[non-un-topo]

To the next adventure...

Image description and details under cut

I.D.

[A drawing of Nicky, Joe, Quynh, and Andy from The Old Guard. They are all in profile, walking in a straight line facing the sun. They are dressed in medieval clothing and armour, and each carry their own weapons and bags. Nicky has his sword, a crossbow, a quiver of bolts, a dagger at his belt and another strapped to his ankle. Joe is holding his sword, a bag, and a coin purse. Quynh's bow is over her back, and her quiver is at her hip. Two daggers are strapped to her belt, one of them matching Nicky's. Andy is holding her axe, two bags, and a dagger. They each have serene expressions and closed eyes, as if they're not in a hurry. In the background, the seasons change from winter to spring, summer, fall. There is an old tree behind them, and its branches change with the seasons.]

[adyophene]

Radiotrio day 6: Roleswap!

Alastor - Charlie

Husk - Vaggie

Niffty - Angeldust

Deets under cut!

"Alastor":

Alastor is actually Cain going under a pseudonym. He's trying to redeem sinners not out of the goodness of his heart, but as a fuck you towards Adam, his estranged deadbeat Father. He vaguely believes redemption is possible, but on the outside he gives off the vibe of thinking its nonsense. Eve, who is in hell, is the one payrolling the whole thing. As the first Sinner in hell she holds a bit of power. (Eve - Lucifer swap)

Al exclusively advertises the Hotel through radio commercials and jingles and doesn't really care that it is probably is why no one knows about it.

"Husk":

A fallen angel who always fucked off and drank and gambled during exterminations instead of killing sinners. When he caught his wings were chopped off and he was left for dead. Alastor found him and offered him a deal. Al would keep Husk's identity secret so long as Husk worked for him. Husk tried to refuse and goad Al into finishing him off, but was instead lured into a bet. He lost and became Al's right hand cat.

Husk doesn't believe in redemption at all. He is trapped in Heaven's mindset that once you fucked up you're done forever. He puts up with Al's antics with a heavy amount of booze.

Niffty:

Hell's favorite killing machine. Niffty is a weapons spokesperson working for Carmilla. She's recorded by a camera crew when she goes out to kill his rivals and its all pitched as a fun and brutal reality show with a star who revels in the thrill of the hunt. Niffty loves her craft and is extremely skilled, but is becoming burnt out. She suffers from an addiction to amphetamines to keep up her 'high energy camera persona'. (When exhausted she just ends up freezing out and staring into the camera ala the gag in the show.)

Niffty is ambivalent about redemption, but likes to stay at the hotel cause she likes Al and Husk, and because it gives her a break from work.

Charlie: A former human who made a deal with Lucifer so she could come down to hell and try to help the undeserving sinners there. She is absolutely ecstatic about the hotel and is all but overbearing in trying to help Alastor achieve his goal.

Vaggie: A sinner who went to hell for her 'extremely violent tendencies', despite the fact that all her actions were in the protection of herself and family/home. Charlie found her in the aftermath of a territory dispute, and after helping her/hearing about her backstory, all but glued Vaggie to her side. Vaggie doesn't believe in redemption, due to her guilt/shame over her violent past, but is dragged along by Charlie.

Angeldust:

Charlie's mysterious and excitable friend. Angel loves a good 'naughty boy' and doesn't so much as clean, but rather struts about posing in whatever meido costume he likes for the day. Charlie knows his past and is the reason he works at the hotel. She thinks he is a good candidate for redemption. Angel doesn't really care either way and is just happy for a shit easy job that he can dress up cute for and slack off all he likes!

I don't know when, but I might come back to this roleswap idea in the future and expand out other swaps!

[lotuswish]

˗ˏˋ how they hold your hand (housewardens & jamil) ⭑ .ᐟ

synopsis: fingers intertwining, a gentle squeeze, the warmth of a palm against yours—how each boy holds your hand says more than words ever could. from shy, lingering touches to firm, protective grips, every gesture is a glimpse into the way they love.

featured character(s): riddle rosehearts, leona kingscholar, azul ashengrotto, kalim al-asim, jamil viper, vil schoenheit, idia shroud, malleus draconia.

content warning(s): none.

a/n: just a cute and silly idea i had at 3am. :3

link(s): (masterlist)

riddle rosehearts

riddle holds your hand like it’s a delicate porcelain teacup—carefully, with just enough pressure to keep it secure. at first, his fingers are a little stiff, his cheeks faintly pink as he focuses on not fumbling. he tries so hard to get it just right, and when he feels your fingers relax in his, his grip softens, almost shyly. he’ll sneak a glance at your face, and if he catches you smiling, his hold tightens slightly, a quiet boost to his confidence.

“i hope… this isn’t too forward,” he says softly, his voice careful and deliberate, though his gaze lingers on your joined hands with the faintest hint of pride.

leona kingscholar

leona’s hand intertwines with yours with effortless confidence, his hold firm yet unhurried, carrying a subtle possessiveness—like your hand was always meant to be in his, and he has no intention of letting go. his fingers slide between yours with ease, and he occasionally shifts your hands against his leg or his side, keeping you close without making a fuss. if you try to pull away, even as a joke, he’ll tug you back with a low grumble, his tail flicking once beside him in annoyance.

“don’t start something you can’t finish, herbivore,” he drawls, his tone low and gruff. though he acts nonchalant, deep down, it's his way of keeping you close without having to say it out loud.

azul ashengrotto

azul holds your hand like he’s trying to make the perfect impression, his fingers enveloping yours carefully, almost methodically. his palm is cool, and every so often, his grip tightens subtly, like he’s testing the waters to see if this is really okay. though he maintains his composed expression, his gaze flickers nervously between your face and your joined hands. when he sees your reassuring smile, the faintest flush of pink spreads across his cheeks, despite his efforts to stay collected.

“i trust this arrangement is… satisfactory?” he asks, his voice soft and composed, but the way he clears his throat afterward betrays his nerves.

kalim al-asim

kalim grabs your hand without hesitation, his fingers threading through yours in a fluid, lively motion, like he’s been waiting to do it all along. his grip is strong and eager, a comforting warmth radiating from his palm. the giddy smile on his face makes it clear that your touch is his favorite thing in the world. as you walk, he swings your joined hands, and every so often, he’ll squeeze your hand gently or press it against his chest when he’s particularly excited about something.

“i’m so glad you’re here with me,” he says, his voice bubbling with joy, as though holding your hand is the highlight of his day.

jamil viper

jamil holds your hand with calculated ease—his touch appears casual, but every movement is deliberate. his fingers lace with yours slowly, his grip just firm enough to keep you close without drawing attention. to anyone else, it might seem detached, but the way his fingers subtly shift to match your movements or the faint, almost unnoticeable tension in his shoulders reveals the truth: he’s hyperaware of you.

he doesn’t say much, but after a quiet moment, he glances at your hands and murmurs, “you don’t have to hold on so tightly,” his tone calm, though the slight squeeze he gives your hand betrays just how much he doesn’t want you to let go.

vil schoenheit

vil holds your hand with an air of practiced elegance, his fingers lacing with yours smoothly, as if even the smallest gestures between you deserve the utmost intention and care. his grip is steady and purposeful, his hand fitting perfectly against yours. sometimes, he’ll lift your hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss against your knuckles before letting his fingers curl a little tighter around yours.

“your hands are quite lovely,” he murmurs, his tone carrying its usual polished air, but softer, more personal. “i suppose i shouldn’t be surprised—everything about you tends to draw the eye.”

idia shroud

idia starts by linking pinkies with you, his hand hovering awkwardly at first. his skin is warm and a little clammy, his nerves written in the way his fingers twitch slightly. after a few moments, he works up the courage to slide the rest of his fingers into place, his grip loose but earnest. his hand fidgets slightly against yours, like he’s still adjusting, but when he notices you’re not letting go, a shy, genuine smile tugs at his lips.

“uh… your hand’s… really warm,” he mutters softly, his voice unsteady as the tips of his hair flicker pink. “it’s… kinda nice, actually.”

malleus draconia

malleus holds your hand with a quiet reverence, his long fingers intertwining with yours with a gentle but steady grip. his touch carries a subtle chill, and there’s a deliberate care in the way he adjusts his hold, as if mindful of not startling you. occasionally, he lifts your hand slightly, aligning his palm with yours as if to compare their size. his fingers slowly curl around yours again, his touch gentle and his gaze filled with quiet wonder, as though the contrast holds a meaning only he can understand.

“your hands are small, child of man,” he says softly, tilting his head as if deep in thought. “yet they feel as though they were meant to be held by mine.”

congrats on making it to the end! if you enjoyed this, likes, comments, follows, and reblogs are always appreciated—they help motivate me to keep creating and sharing!

[lovetrouble123]

Kindergarten Crush

Synopsis: Damian finds himself stuck with the annoying popular girl everyday

TW: neglectful parent(s) alluded too???

A/N: okay yall🤩 since yall rlly liked that last fic I uploaded about all the boys, here’s one about just Damian lol��� (okay but fr yall ate that shit up and I couldn’t be any more thankful <3 thank you so much and enjoy reading!!)

⋆˚✿˖°

Gotham Academy was a school for the rich, and Damian Al Ghul Wayne was one of the many kids that attended…lucky him. The concept of going to school seemed like a waste of time for him considering he was an assassin. He should be spending his time training, and yet his father shipped him off to some useless school during the day.

He tried not to draw attention to himself, but his ‘sophisticated’ personality really just made him stand out all the more…especially considering his father is the Bruce Wayne. So, to counter the annoying popularity that came from his last name, he preferred to stay alone. Partner work? He would ask to work alone. Projects? Alone. Lunch time? He would sit in the school courtyard and eat the lunch that Alfred prepared for him.

It was always quiet out there. There would rarely be other students, and if there were, it was the social outcasts who preferred the silence like he did. But he couldn’t blame them, they left him alone and he left them alone.

It was like any other lunch period. Damian sat alone at one of the stone tables, bag of apple slices laid out and one of his many thick chapter books pressed against the stone with his free hand keeping it open. His green eyes scanned each word as his mind consumed the words on the page, his mind playing the scene in his head.

“Is that Y/N?”

“What is she doing out here?”

“Go talk to them!”

The once quiet courtyard was now filled with chatter that Damian desperately tried to ignore, but even with his icy glare toward the others, his gaze landed on Y/N. Damian labeled Y/N an annoying presence, just like the other popular kids at his school. He knew her, but not well. Her father was some big shot in the government or something, but Damian didn’t really care who her father was. He just knew that he despised her and her clique.

But for once, she seemed relatively human. She sat alone at one of the other stone tables, a sketchbook pressed against the table with her earbuds in.

He rolled his eyes and finished his meal before packing up and heading toward the library for the rest of the lunch period.

The following day, Y/N wasn’t outside and the courtyard returned to its quiet setting again…and for the next few days, it was the same.

Until a week later on some random Thursday.

Damian sat at his table again, this time studying for some math test he would be taking later in the day. He had finished his meal a little while ago, and now sat studying…or he would have been studying if it wasn’t for Y/N standing in front of his table looking at him.

“Can I help you?” He rudely asked.

“Would you mind being my muse?” Y/N sweetly asked.

Damian tore his eyes away from his textbook and looked at Y/N. “No.”

“Oh, okay,” she then turned and walked off.

The next day, Y/N found Damian again outside and sat down across from him. “I need help on my language homework, can you help me?”

“No—.”

“But it’s Arabic,” Y/N insisted. “Don’t you speak it? I heard that you did.”

He did, fluently. But why would he take time out of his day to help her?

“I do, but why would I help you?”

A week passed before Y/N wandered up to Damian after one of their shared classes together and asked him for some notes she missed. Damian wanted to tell her to go away, but she was clearly persistent considering she kept coming back. So finally, he gave in.

It took two months before Damian began to warm up to Y/N. He wasn’t going soft, not at all. But maybe she wasn’t as bad as he originally thought.

“Why do you no longer hang out with those popular kids?” Damian finally asked during one lunch period.

“I realized they weren’t good people,” she shrugged. “Why do you always hang out alone?”

“Touché,” Damian replied.

Another month passed and he found himself thinking about Y/N, even on missions. How bothersome. He still did his missions flawlessly with his father, but even he could tell he was acting slightly different, even if he didn’t admit it out loud. Self awareness.

“Do you want to share my Oeros with me?” Y/N asked as she sat beside Damian in the library. It was raining outside which caused the two to haul up inside the quiet library.

Damian glanced at the small blue box labeled ‘Oreos’ before his eyes flickered to Y/N. “I’m okay,” he said. “But a whole box for lunch? That seems…unhealthy.”

Y/N shrugged and opened the box of cookies. “Not all of us have parents who care about their kid’s nutrition.”

“My father does not care,” Damian replies. “Pennyworth is the one who prepares my meals.”

“Pennyworth?” Y/N replied with furrowed brows as she ate her cookies.

“My butler,” Damian said.

“You have a butler? Must be nice,” Y/N sighed. “I have to do everything myself.”

“It’s his job to provide assistance,” Damian stated as he reached into his black school bag and pulled out a container of strawberries. “But your self reliance is admirable…although I doubt that Pennyworth would allow Oreos for just a meal.” He then glanced down at his strawberries, “if you…want some strawberries…you can have some.”

Why did he just offer some of his meal? It’s his meal, and if Y/N was dumb enough not to pack a proper meal, that was on her.

“Oh, okay, thanks,” Y/N smiled.

Damian gently slid the container between them as he tried to act aloof and ignore the way his heart seemed to flutter at her smile. But he looked away and reached into his school bag and brought out a small black sketchbook, as well as a pencil. He flipped it to a free and clean page as Y/N spoke up, “I didn’t realize you drew, Damian.”

“Father said it would be good for me to pick up a hobby that wasn’t training…something to keep me occupied,” Damian admits. “I suppose I’ve found myself enthralled with it.”

His father had recommended a multitude of hobbies, literally anything that wasn’t training for missions. He already knew Damian would train anyway, he had done it since he was just a little kid…but Damian needed outlets…something other than getting murderous tendencies.

“Training?” Y/N asked, “what’s that supposed to mean?”

He slipped up, and he hadn’t meant to. Why did he slip up anyway? He was usually so good at keeping his mouth shut about the whole Robin thing.

“Fencing,” Damian lied. “Father believes that I spend too much time obsessing over it.”

“I didn’t know you took fencing,” Y/N said as she reached for the strawberry container and picked one up.

“Fencing, martial arts, self defense,” Damian trailed off as he began to draw. “I take multiple lessons.”

“Maybe you can teach me sometime,” Y/N suggested. “I used to take martial arts as a kid, but I was too little to keep it up.”

He briefly paused as he thought over her request. Was he seriously considering spending time with her? …yes.

“Perhaps when I have time,” Damian vaguely said.

Y/N nodded as her eyes flickered to the sketchbook, “what kinds of things do you like to draw?”

“Whatever comes to mind,” Damian admits. “I am not picky.”

Y/N smiles, “you’ll have to show me sometime.”

“No.”

“Yeah, alright, that’s fair,” Y/N said as she leaned back in her chair. “I refuse to show anyone what I draw too.”

Damian silently nodded as he went back to his drawing, although he was silently aware of the girl’s presence beside him. He was aware of the way she crunched on her cookies, which was a little annoying…but then she’d take a strawberry from his container. He knew his mother would be disappointed him, especially his grandfather.

“You’re staring,” Damian pointed out with his eyes still on his sketch. “You’re not very subtle.”

“I wasn’t trying to be,” Y/N nonchalantly replied.

The sound of a bell then echoed throughout the library causing Y/N to groan in annoyance. “Lunch is over already, how annoying.” She grabbed her last Oreo and shoved it into Damian’s hand before getting up and leaving.

Damian’s brows furrowed as he stared and watched Y/N leave before his eyes trailed down to the cookie in his hand. The dark cookie contrasted against the milk white cream in the middle. Damian couldn’t help but softly smile in amusement before shaking his head and silently eating the Oero.

[engenlvr]

some random girl | alexia putellas

summary : you go to test alexia and she fails miserably

tags + a/n : age gap, implied smut, downbad!alexia, spelling mistakes cause this was rushed, i don’t think there’s anymore to add but idk. anyway a quick little fic while i finish my other one. also two posts in less than a week who am i

word count : 1k

everyone knew that alexia didn’t have a huge social media presence.

if she posted it would always be about club or country, the world barely saw alexia do a media dump and when she did the they went crazy. you’ve been begging alexia to post more ever since you met her but still nothing.

the two of you never posted a picture together so when the fans thought you two were together it was all speculation. either from a picture of you at one of barcelona’s games but you were never seen talking to her only some of the younger girls.

you’d post a story on instagram of the two of you but it would be your hands or a picture of you guys standing next to each other waist down.

and alexia well there was only one post of you that she tagged you in and that was when you first became friends other than that she’d post what like a picture of your hand that’s it.

what you and alexia posted was enough for them to speculate but not nothing concrete.

you guys were careful cause well alexia could be paranoid cause she knew what her fans were like. if you guys went out it was in the parts of barcelona that people didn’t really know about unless they were locals.

after being together for a while you both decided that if one of you wanted to post the other they could. at first you thought a soft launch would be perfect. drive the fans crazy a little seeing as nothing could make them say that it was alexia confidently.

but when you saw the new tiktok trend you just had to do it with her, skip the soft launch you started and skip right to the hard launch.

everything was set up, phone on alexia’s kitchen counter all you needed was for her to come back from training. when you heard the familiar sound of door opening followed by the sound of a her bag being thrown to the floor you knew it was her and that it was time.

“ale baby, come here for a second��

she didn’t reply but the sound of her footsteps becoming louder was confirmation enough and soon enough her figure appeared.

the second you could see she was in the frame you knew it was time.

“think fast i’m some random girl” rushing out the words as quickly as possible before throwing yourself at her. placing your lips on hers in hopes that she push you away or something literally anything.

she done the opposite, in fact she pulled you closer deepening the kiss. making you forget about the video completely. her hand went under your thighs lifting you up from the ground and placing you on her kitchen island.

it wasn’t until she moved from kissing your lips to your neck that you remembered only cause the camera was in your eyesight again. the kiss almost made you forget again but you pushed through the pleasure you were feeling.

her kissing your almost made you want to forget about it “ale—alexia, you were meant to push me away” trying to sound as angry as possible but failed as you laughed and well you could never be mad at her.

“mhm, okay”

that was her only response before getting back to it.

in all honestly it didn’t even seem like she fully heard what you said, she saw you come towards her to kiss her and then the kiss was all that was on her mind. making her forget what you said immediately.

you tried hard to push her away but she only held on tighter.

“i’m serious”

she pulled away “you think that when i have an opportunity to kiss you i wouldn’t take it.”

“but you heard what i said and ignored it so you failed”

“amor, all i saw was that you were going to kiss me and i’m not saying no to that. and am i really failing if i got to kiss you”

you looked at her for a second, taking in her appearance. hair still damp from her shower, a pair of shorts that did her justice and simple top that you swore she made look designer with how good she looked in it.

but now all you could think about was kissing her.

placing you’re hand on her cheeks as you pulled her in for another kiss that was ten times more needy that the last. you felt her hand tug at you’re shirt which you gladly took off and her soon following suit.

your hands now in her hair tugging at her roots each time she’d kiss you with more desperation. she slowly made her way down between your legs, placing kisses on the way.

you threw your head back already anticipating the pleasure that you were about to feel, and just when she was about to touch you where you needed it most. you remembered.

you remember about the camera set up on the counter and how this couldn’t be posted if you let her continue.

you pushed her away from you causing her to groan in annoyance, hoping down from the counter to grab your phone and turn it off. before talking alexia’s hand and going to her bedroom to finish want you started.

you didn’t post the tiktok till a day later. and it was safe to say it was a hit getting over a million views in an hour. the comment made you laugh. you haven’t even told alexia that you were posting it not really caring about what would happen afterwards, and to be fair she did say you could post whatever of the two of you now.

wosofc : people called me crazy for thinking that we’re together but i was right

ellie : alexia i don’t blame you if she was my gf i’d be the same

vickyyylopezzz._ : tell me how you get alexia to do tiktok’s with you now

vickyyylopezzz._ : i’ve been begging her to do a tiktok for a while and this was not what i meant i’m now scarred for life now

barcafem4life : omg i’m never gonna shut up about this

steph : how did you get alexia to do this. she barely had any social media presence and now this

kat : i don’t know who i want to be more

janafernandez3 : i’m coming over we’re doing a tiktok right now

alexiasgf : this is the hardest soft launch i have ever seen it’s like she ditched it completely and was like alexia’s my girl and i’m gonna show the world and i don’t blame her.

the next day at training alexia didn’t hear the end of it as the team especially the youngsters wouldn’t stop teasing her. when they first talked about it she was beyond confused and then they showed her the video and the all teasing made sense. this definitely wasn’t the alexia they knew.

all alexia knew was that they wouldn’t shut up about it for a while but it was worth it if you were happy.

[wosospacegirl]

breathing- alexia putellas

Summary: Alexia helps you study for a test, but really, she's more of a distraction

Word count: 1.2k

Warnings: (+18) fingering (r receiving).

a/n: this was not proofread!! And I bet it had a lot of typos so I'm sorry!!

..

You were trying to concentrate. Really. But Alexia was absolutely no help.

It had all started innocently. You had asked her to help you study for your human physiology exam, and like the good girlfriend she was, she had agreed.

She even abandoned her half-finished protein shake on the kitchen counter to come sit with you on the sofa.

The sofa was filled with flashcards, highlighters and papers; you had your huge physiology textbook lying open in front of you.

You had memorised every single image from chapter 13, you knew how to solve every single medical case, but still, you needed an assistant to make sure you knew everything about the respiratory system and hemodynamics by heart. 

But Alexia had taken things way too far.

All you had asked was for Alexia to quiz you.

You just wanted Alexia to ask you a few questions, to read them out loud from your flashcards…maybe test you about muscles, their names, functions, or any other details you might have missed.

Right now, you were straddling her lap, your thighs practically caging her in the sofa next to the pillows, your shirt and bra were long gone. You could feel the warmth of her body pressed up against yours.

Your clothed pelvises were grinding slowly, and you knew she was doing it to tease you, to make you beg.

Alexia's mouth was on your neck. Her lips were wet and hot as they dragged across your skin alongside her tongue, which created a wet path from your earlobe down to your clavicle.  

Her right hand had other plans, though; it was sneaking lower and lower each breath you took; her fingers were brushing under the hem of your cotton shorts, ones that were absolutely not sexy at all, but Alexia swore over her dead body that you looked hot in them.

Alexia had one of her hands splayed across your torso. Her (big) hand was covering your third rib, all the way to your seventh one.

Her hand was warm, too. Alexia was always warm, even in the middle of winter, even when she was shivering from the cold.

"What am I kissing right now?" Alexia murmured against your throat, her lips were sucking your skin gently, and her tongue was flickering over the mark she had just left.

It was practically impossible for Alexia to have her mouth on you without leaving any marks. She always had to do it. Always had to leave a bit of herself on you. You never complained, though.

You whimpered as Alexia pressed her pelvis against you. Your hips were rocking ever so slightly against her; you were just trying to chase some kind of friction, some kind of relief.  

"I asked you a question, amor," Alexia said in a deep voice.

You rolled your eyes, your mind was starting to get foggy, but you pushed through. You tried to think of her wet lips on your neck, and then picture the image on page 367, figure C.

"That's…uhnm," you rolled your hips against her fingers, they weren't even touching your skin yet, they were just over your clothes. "That's sternocleidomastoideus."

"Muy bien," [very good], Alexia praised. You could almost feel a thick layer of amusement in her voice. 

You might be distracted by her, but Alexia was distracted by you just the same. You knew how she felt when your pulse jumped beneath her mouth.

You knew you could have said anything, really… from infraspinatus to lysosomes, or even rotator cuff, and still, she would probably have nodded along, just the same. 

Alexia only knew the main muscles–the ones worth working on in the gym or the ones that were easy targets for injuries. 

"That's an important muscle, sí?" she asked, her voice filled with false innocence as her hand finally slipped past your shorts, her fingertips were touching over your soaked cunt, which was, of course, always ready for her.

"Ale, please," you moaned as you moved your hips to the right, trying to meet her hand. "More…I need more, please."

"No, princesa," she whispered sternly, but still sweet. "Tienes que estudiar." [You have to study.]

"I don't, not anymore," you shook your head, "I want you."

Alexia didn't give in, as expected.

"Concéntrate, amor," [pay attention, love] she said, as her fingers slipped through your wetness and pressed inside your cunt, very slowly and deliberately as if she knew you like the back of her hand. 

"Now, tell me about these muscles here–" The hand that had been on your rib cage was now tracing along the spaces between each rib. You felt a shiver running down your spine. 

You arched your back and gave Alexia better access to your torso, and because she was a very loving girlfriend, she rewarded you with a second finger.

Alexia could be very maddening when she wanted to.

She could make you lose your mind and focus with just a touch of her finger; that's how much power she had over you.

She slid her middle finger along with her index finger deeper inside your cunt, filling you up just right, just as you needed. 

You were so wet you could hear the sound of her fingers thrusting inside of you, it was a pornographic and very delicious sound.

You knew your underwear and shorts were a mess right now, but you still wished Alexia would take your clothes off so you could rub your bare cunt against her leggings, getting them all wet and smelling of you and your need for her.

"Intercostales,' you breathed (finally), her fingers curled inside of you, giving you the prize you so much deserved.

"Vamos," [come on] Alexia said, more softly this time, as if she really wanted you to get it right. "Dime el nombre de esos músculos." [Tell the name of these muscles]

You grabbed Alexia's shoulders for support, lifting your hip a bit so Alexia could have more room to move her hand.

"They, ugh, fuck…they control the breathing mechanism of the respiratory system," you said as you were trying to remember your damn flashcards (the ones that you spent hours working on) but it seemed like your brain decided to just not work anymore, as if it went on a vacation as soon as Alexia touched you.

"Y por qué son importantes?" she asked, her thumb was brushing very close to your clit but never quite touching it.

It was a dangerous move, and Alexia knew it.

Alexia hummed and then pressed a kiss on your neck. It seemed like she liked your answer. 

"Then why," she asked softly, "does it seem like you are having such a hard time breathing, bebé?"

Her palm then moved to the left, lying flat over your chest, next to your heart.

You could see her palm moving up and down with each of your irregular breaths. 

You could barely form an answer, your mind was still too dizzy, and Alexia had just found your G-spot, her finger thrusting so sweetly against you.

You only had one last breath, you just had one (accusatory) word to say before coming undone with an orgasm.

"Fuck–it's because of you."

Alexia smirked as she curled her fingers inside of you, her thumb rubbing your clit as you felt a warm feeling embracing your body.

You came, contracting against Alexia, your mouth was open as you moaned, feeling every single dopamine and oxytocin molecule running through your bloodstream.

Alexia kissed your forehead as you calmed down. She waited until your breathing was even again to take her finger off of you. You wished she would keep them; you felt closer to her that way.

When she came back, she did just that. She filled your face with kisses as she cleaned the inside of your thighs, kissing your cunt one last time before properly putting the shorts back on.

Maybe you said that out loud, you didn't remember, right now all you needed was Alexia, she knew how clingy you were after an orgasm.

She had left to wash her hands and bring you a warm cloth to clean you up.

You had completely forgotten about your test, or about anything really. Alexia was not the best study pal in the world, but she sure knew how to make you relax during a study session.

..

a/n: This isn't one of my greatest works, and I don't know if I like it, but I wrote it down, and I thought I might as well share it here.

Tag list: @footy-lover264 , @fortifyde, @naomigirmadefender , @neutraiise , @milkveed, @browercc , @ace-of-baked , @ikzzzya , @sky-the-trans-guy00 , @knight-16, @wosohk04, @evaissleepy13, @papimapileon , @unpoppablebubbles @whiskeredshrimp-blog @goodloe-e

[starmaidengarden]

HI HI!!! I am new here but your fics are so good and I just had to request something!! I liked the blog especially where the S/o is neutral but when her interest shows up she is exited and rants about it but rn what I am requesting is a fic with Houswarden +Jamil where s/o has funny personality I think, they laugh when something fun happens and they get all blushy and red when they laugh too much or the houswardens do something affectionate!! I requested it bcs I get red whenever something embarrassing happens to me, that's for doing my request!!!

—Housewardens + Jamil x gn!reader. no cw/tw. established relationship. dividers: uzmacchiato.

note: sorry this took several days to finish I been busy as a bee! but I hope you like it!!

Riddle Rosehearts ༉⋆｡˚

Riddle prided himself on order and composure—until he met you. Just five minutes into tea time, you were laughing so hard that you nearly spilled your cup. “Oh no—! I’m sorry, it’s just—! The way Cater described you losing your temper with the flamingos—!” Your laughter came in hiccups. Riddle sighed, trying to mask his annoyance, though the pink tint in his ears told a different story. “There’s nothing funny about those disobedient creatures,” he huffed, stirring his tea with feigned seriousness.

You attempted to stifle your giggles, but when you caught the barest hint of a smile on Riddle’s lips, your cheeks flushed bright red. “What?” he asked, clearly amused now. “I—I just really like it when you smile,” you stammered, your embarrassment more evident than ever. Riddle froze for a moment. “O-Oh.” Clearing his throat, he rose with an overly formal air and offered you a napkin with trembling hands. “You’re a mess,” he said, his voice quaking. “But… you’re my mess.”

Leona Kingscholar ༉⋆｡˚

Leona pretends to be perpetually annoyed by your antics—your snorting laughter, your playful teasing, and the way you turn red in the face whenever he drapes himself across your lap as if it’s nothing. He grumbles when you laugh so hard you nearly fall over, muttering “What’s so damn funny?” but there’s a barely-hidden smirk tugging at his lips. He teases you relentlessly for the way you blush every time he ruffles your hair or kisses your cheek out of nowhere.

Once, when you’re both lying in the grass during a quiet afternoon, you laugh so hard you accidentally spill lemonade all over him. You're mortified—red as Riddle’s roses, trying to blot his shirt with your sleeves and apologizing in squeaky, stammered words. Grabbing your wrist and pulling you down, forehead-to-forehead. “Relax, herbivore. If I didn’t like seeing you act like a little tomato, I’d have kicked you out ages ago.” His tail flicks lazily behind him. He always acts like he’s the one indulging you—but really, he’d do anything to hear that laugh again.

Azul Ashengrotto ༉⋆｡˚

The Mostro Lounge was uncharacteristically loud, but it wasn’t due to the usual clinking of glasses or bustling servers. No, tonight’s unusual sounds came from you, sitting at the VIP table with your face flushed red, a hand over your mouth, giggling uncontrollably as Jade recounted a story from Azul’s childhood. Azul stood nearby, arms crossed, trying (and failing) to maintain his composure. “Jade,” Azul said through clenched teeth, “I don’t recall giving you permission to share that particular memory.” Jade’s smile was as smooth as ever. “You didn’t, Azul. But the expression on your dears face is worth it, wouldn’t you agree?” You tried to speak through your laughter, failing miserably as you managed a breathless, “I can’t believe you got stuck in a jar—!” Azul groaned and buried his face in his hands.

Kalim Al-Asim ༉⋆｡˚

It started with the silliest magic carpet ride ever. Kalim had taken you out for a sunset glide—bright sky, warm breeze, and him grinning like always. You were telling some absurd story about Grim getting his head stuck in a jelly jar, complete with dramatic impressions. Kalim was laughing, almost rolling off the carpet from laughing. When he looked over at you—eyes crinkled, nose scrunched, your face bright red and giggly—he melted. “Ahaha—wait, wait—pfft!” you wheezed, hiccupping from how hard you laughed. “I can’t—Grim sounded like a duck!” You buried your face in your hands, shaking and flushed.

Kalim blinked. “You’re red!” He leaned in with wide eyes. “Are you okay?" You peeked at him between your fingers, still pink and giggling. “I’m fine! Just—you’re laughing too, don’t blame me!” Kalim clutched his chest with dramatic flair. “You're so cute when you laugh like that, Habibi! Your face goes all warm and soft and boom—like fireworks!” He poked your cheek gently. “You light up everything!” “Stop it,” you whined, voice trembling with another laugh, “You’re gonna make me blush even more!”

Jamil Viper ༉⋆｡˚

Jamil prided himself on discipline. Composure. But none of that prepared him for the way you burst into Scarabia’s kitchen wearing sunglasses at night and wielding a baguette like a sword. “I challenge thee, noble chef, to a duel! You’ve stolen my heart, and I demand repayment in the form of food!” He stared. Blinking slowly. “Did… Did you inhale too much spice again?" “Maybe. But also, on guard!” He deflected your attack with a spatula, sighing with exasperated amusement. “You’re impossible.” And then came that moment: your laughter caught in your throat, your eyes twinkling, and your face turned the color of a tomato.

“You make me so happy it’s unfair,” you mumbled. Something in Jamil's heart cracked wide open. It wasn’t immediate, but over time, he found himself waiting for your antics. Secretly hoping you'd pull him into your nonsense. You once convinced him to dance in socks across Scarabia’s marble halls while blasting cheesy disco music. When he spun you mid-twirl, you giggled so hard you collapsed, and Jamil couldn’t stop the real laugh that escaped him. He helped you up, brushing a lock of hair from your heated face. “You’re ridiculous,” he said softly. “And…you’re mine.”

Vil Schoenheit ༉⋆｡˚

Vil was always poised, always polished. But you? You were a whirlwind of funny faces, dramatic impressions, and—his favorite—your laughter that got all squeaky when you were truly losing it. “You’re doing it again,” he’d say, sitting in his makeup chair, one brow raised, watching you wheeze after trying (and failing) to mimic his posture. “You’re mocking me.” “I’m honoring you!” you gasped through your grin. “I’m capturing your… majestic aura!” “Oh really?” he purred, strolling over.

“Does this look ‘majestic’ to you?” He leaned in close—so close that your face lit up red in seconds. “Vil—!” you whined, completely flustered now, hiding behind your hands. He loved that you didn’t shrink in his presence—not out of fear. You matched him, teased him, and brought levity to his carefully curated world. When he was tired or doubting himself, you’d burst into his dressing room with a bouquet of wildflowers. One night, he caught you alone in the garden, practicing a silly song about him under your breath. “You’re unbelievable.”

Idia Shroud ༉⋆｡˚

Idia didn’t know what to do with you at first. You were so expressive. Loud in the most lovable way. You were playing an old co-op game in his room together—one with chaotic physics and silly cartoon avatars that made both of you laugh way too much. Idia was surprisingly good at the game, but you? You had a unique talent for getting launched off cliffs in increasingly hilarious ways. “I—I didn’t mean to jump! I was trying to grab the sword!” you cried as your character rag-dolled off a tower dramatically. “Oh my—pffff—” Idia snorted, doubling over as your avatar flew off the screen.

“You were so sure about that move too!” You laughed as well, breathless. “I had a plan! I had a—!” But you were giggling too hard to finish, wiping tears from your eyes. Idia turned to look at you, noticing his flaming hair flickering a soft pink. “You’re—uh—you okay?” he asked. “You’re… really red.” “I—hahaha—I can’t stop laughing,” you hiccupped, trying to catch your breath. “My face feels like it’s melting.” He realized your cheeks were glowing bright red; you were laughing so much that your smile was wide and your eyes squinty. he covered his face, mumbling, “You’re going to be the death of me…” But he couldn’t stop smiling.

Malleus Draconia ༉⋆｡˚

Malleus wasn’t used to laughter—anything other than polite laughter, really. So when you burst into deep belly laughter at his story about Sebek’s overzealous training, he faltered. “You should have seen him trying to spar with Lilia and ending up in a tree,” he said dryly. Your response was always joyful “No way! A TREE?” Malleus raised an eyebrow. “You’re easily entertained, dear.” “You make it easy,” you giggled, cheeks glowing. “Your delivery is so deadpan.” He tilted his head. “You are red. Have I embarrassed you?” “Nooo,” you murmured, curling in on yourself. “Just… you. It’s too much.” For a moment, time seemed to pause. “I like you a lot,” you mumbled, face turning even redder. A soft smile spread across his face. “I believe I like you just as much.” He brushed his finger against your cheek, captivated by your warmth. “So vivid. Like Dragonfire.” Your laughter made him feel he'd gladly hear it a thousand times more.

[holyblonded]

teenagers | stargirl

pairings: alexia putellas x teen!reader, olga rios x teen!reader

summary: you bring home a… friend, and alexia is not okay

warnings: toxic partners

notes: this is pre soleil!!

“Mami, please! Just sit down,” you begged, eyes wide and hands flailing toward the couch where Olga sat curled up with a steaming mug of coffee.

Alexia raised an eyebrow, suspicious. “Fine, but I have to go for my run after this.”

“Whatever,” you muttered, already distracted as your brain buzzed with nerves. You shifted your weight from foot to foot, heart racing like you were about to take a penalty in a final.

Both women stared at you expectantly as you stood in front of them, wringing your hands together.

You opened your mouth, then closed it. Tried again.

“I… I need to tell you something,” you started, voice cracking slightly.

Alexia leaned forward, brow furrowed. “You’re failing a class?”

“No!” you blurted out, too quickly.

Olga tilted her head, grinning. “You crashed the scooter again?”

“No! Oh my god, stop—just let me—”

Alexia raised an eyebrow. “You got called up to a brand deal without telling us?”

“WHAT? No! Just let me finish!” you snapped, half laughing, half exasperated.

You took a breath. “Okay, okay. I just want to say—”

“You’re moving out?” Olga gasped dramatically, clearly having fun now.

You let out a long groan. “No! I have a girlfriend!”

There was a moment of stunned silence.

Then Olga’s face broke into a delighted grin. “¡Ay, por favor! My baby’s in love!”

You gave her a crooked smile, cheeks burning. “I didn’t say love.”

But Olga was already leaning forward, wiggling her eyebrows. “Who is it? Do we know her? Is she nice? Does she have dimples? I feel like she has dimples.”

You giggled, nodding. “She does, actually.”

Meanwhile, Alexia sat back, arms crossed, her expression unreadable.

“What’s her name?” she asked sharply.

You blinked. “Carmen.”

“How old is she?”

“A year older than me” you replied quickly, already bracing.

“What does her family do? Where did you meet her? Is she serious about football? Does she understand the lifestyle you’re in? What are her intentions? Is she respectful? Do you—”

“Mami,” you groaned, throwing your head back. “Can you not turn this into an interrogation?”

“It’s not an interrogation,” Alexia said calmly. “It’s responsible parenting.”

“It’s an interrogation,” Olga muttered into her mug, barely hiding her laugh.

“She’s not a criminal! She’s literally the sweetest girl I’ve ever met,” you said, folding your arms.

“Have we met her?” Alexia asked, eyes narrowing.

“No. I was going to introduce her soon. I just wanted to tell you first.”

Alexia sighed, clearly biting back further questions. Olga leaned over and swatted her knee.

“Cool it, cariño. Let her breathe.”

Alexia looked over at you again, eyes softer now but still serious. “I’m just looking out for you.”

“I know,” you said, walking over and flopping down between them. “But I’m okay. Carmen’s really good to me. I wouldn’t be with her if she wasn’t.”

Olga wrapped an arm around your shoulder, tugging you close. “I’m happy for you, mi amor. I knew it was only a matter of time before someone fell for that little smirk of yours.”

You rolled your eyes but let her kiss the side of your head. Alexia still looked like she had more to say, but when she saw how content you looked curled between them, she let it go… for now.

Instead, she reached for the remote and muttered, “She better be a Barça fan.”

“She doesn’t hate us?” you said, wincing. “She actually supports Real Madr—.”

Alexia visibly flinched. “Do not cuss in the house.”

It had been just over a week since you’d told them that you had a girlfriend now. Her name was Carmen, and you’d said it so casually, with a little smile and your eyes darting between Olga and Alexia like you were bracing for impact. Her name made Alexia sick.

“Puppy love,” Olga had said later that night when she and Alexia were getting ready for bed. “She’s fifteen, Ale. Let her be a little stupid about someone.”

Alexia hadn’t said anything at first. She just frowned, tugging her shirt over her head, her mind turning over things she’d seen. Like the slight hesitation in your voice when you said Carmen’s name, the way you looked over your shoulder afterward, almost like you were checking for someone’s reaction.

The changes were small at first. You started missing dinners here and there. At first, it was excuses— “Carmen’s mom invited me over,” or “We’re just hanging out after school.” Olga would just shrug and wave you off, telling you not to be home too late, saving your plate in the fridge. She trusted you. She wanted to give you room to breathe.

But Alexia noticed more. She noticed how your spark had dulled a little. You weren’t your usual loud, chaotic self at practice. You still played well, but there was something off. When Lamine and Vicky had a ridiculous, animated debate about the best cookie flavor, you didn’t jump in with your usual “none of y’all have taste, clearly it’s snickerdoodle.” You just watched, quiet. You looked tired. Like you hadn’t slept properly.

You flinched when Alexia lightly nudged your shoulder during warmups one day. Not visibly. Not enough for anyone else to catch. But she did. You looked at her with that same defensive look you always gave when you felt caught.

“Long night?” she asked.

“Just tired,” you replied, brushing her off.

But it wasn’t just that. You were more sluggish during drills. You snapped at Aitana when she corrected your positioning. And when Alexia pressed again about where you’d been after practice, your tone had a sharp edge.

“God, why does it matter?”

Alexia didn’t push further then. She just filed it away, another piece of something that wasn’t sitting right in her chest.

Then one night, late, she passed your door on her way to get a glass of water. The lights were still on, your voice muffled but audible. She wasn’t trying to listen, she never would, but something about your tone stopped her. It wasn’t the words, not at first. It was how small you sounded. How not…you.

Then came the words. Low and quiet, desperate in a way she hadn’t heard from you in a long time. “No, I said sorry already.”

Silence. “Fine… I’ll come over now then.”

There was a shuffle. Then the unmistakable sound of your door closing—too hard, too fast, like you didn’t want to risk waiting long enough for someone to stop you. Alexia’s hand froze on the stair railing as she watched you slip out the front door in a hoodie and sneakers, barely pausing to check if anyone had seen.

She stood there in the dark hallway, her jaw tight. Her chest full of something like dread.

Because she knew that voice. That pleading tone. She remembered hearing it from friends, teammates, even herself once upon a time. That voice wasn’t tired from practice or teenage moodiness.

That was the sound of someone begging to be enough for a person who kept shifting the goalposts.

When Olga asked from bed why she’d taken so long, Alexia didn’t answer for a while. She just lay beside her, eyes on the ceiling, already planning how she’d bring it up to you the next day. Because whatever was happening with Carmen, she wasn’t going to let you carry it alone. Not again.

The door shut behind you with a soft click, your footsteps fading as you hurried out of the house, phone in hand and a lightness in your step that was becoming more and more rare lately. The image haunted Alexia. Olga was curled up on the couch with her iPad, flipping through something halfheartedly, but Alexia didn’t even pretend to be distracted. She was already watching the door you’d disappeared through, her jaw tight, her brows pinched.

“She left again,” Alexia said, voice low.

Olga didn’t look up. “She’s seeing Carmen. Let her have her fun.”

Alexia shifted her weight, arms folded. “She hasn’t had dinner with us in almost two weeks, Olga. And when she is here, she barely talks.”

Olga sighed. “She’s in love. First love, you remember what it’s like. Intense. Consuming. A little messy.”

Alexia turned her full attention to her partner, her tone sharper now. “No, this isn’t just messy. I don’t like the way she talks to her.”

That made Olga pause. “What do you mean?”

“I mean I’ve heard her, Olga. Carmen,” Alexia snapped. “She talks down to her. Like Estrella’s always doing something wrong. Like she’s too much. Like she should be grateful to even be with her.”

Olga tried to keep her voice level. “You might just be reading too much into it. You’ve always been protective with her.”

Alexia stared at her, stunned. “Of course I’m protective. You’ve seen what she’s been through. She’s only just starting to open up, and now she’s in a relationship where she’s already shrinking again.”

“She’s not shrinking,” Olga defended. “She’s figuring things out. Sometimes girls fall too hard, too fast, it happens. You can’t control this part for her.”

Alexia exhaled through her nose, frustrated. “I’m not trying to control her. I just don’t like that this Carmen girl makes her feel small. Have you seen the way she flinches when her phone buzzes?”

Olga opened her mouth, but there was no immediate reply. A seed of doubt cracked something in her expression, but she still said, “She’s a teenager, Ale. Everything feels like life or death right now. We can’t micromanage her every emotion.”

Alexia clenched her jaw. “No, but we can step in if something feels wrong. And this—this doesn’t sit right with me.”

Later that night, long after Olga had gone to bed, Alexia stayed awake. The house was still and quiet except for the occasional ticking of the wall clock and the soft hum of the fridge. The hours crawled. She sat at the kitchen table with a glass of water she didn��t drink, eyes flicking up every time a car passed outside.

When you finally opened the front door well past midnight, the last thing you expected was Alexia, still awake, still dressed, waiting. You froze, and so did she.

“You’re late,” she said simply.

You gave a careless shrug, trying to keep your voice light. “We lost track of time.”

Alexia stood. “Can I ask you something?”

You sighed, already tensing. “What?”

“Does Carmen always talk to you like that?”

You blinked, thrown off. “Like what?”

“Like you’re a burden. Like you’re something to fix. Like if you were just a little quieter, a little more obedient, she’d love you better.”

Your chest seized. You looked away, tried to laugh it off, but it came out brittle. “You don’t even know her.”

Alexia stepped closer. “I know what I’ve seen.”

“God, you never like anyone!” you snapped suddenly, your voice cracking like a whip. “You didn’t like anyone at school, you didn’t like half of my friends in La Masia, and now you don’t like Carmen! This is why I don’t tell you anything!”

Her face barely changed, but you could see it in the way her hands curled at her sides, in the faint tremble in her jaw. She took a breath but didn’t respond right away.

“I do like people,” she said quietly. “Just not people who treat you like you’re disposable.”

“You don’t understand!” you shouted, emotion choking your voice. “You think you know everything about how I feel, but you don’t! She gets me. She sees me!”

Alexia swallowed, her throat working. “No. She sees someone she can control. And you’re letting her.”

That did it. You turned on your heel, storming down the hallway. “Screw this,” you muttered as you slammed your bedroom door.

Left alone in the hallway, Alexia stared at the floor, still and silent. Her hands were shaking now, but not from anger. Just heartbreak. The kind of heartbreak that only comes when you see someone you love running straight toward the edge, and you’re powerless to stop them.

—

The night you finally brought Carmen home was supposed to feel exciting. Special. You had asked three times if it was okay, your voice small and uncertain, but Alexia had finally nodded, stiffly, with a short, “Sure. Dinner at seven.” Olga had tried to fill the space between you all with warmth, smiling as she planned the meal, asking you what Carmen liked. You tried to ignore the tightness in your chest.

Carmen arrived at 6:58 on the dot. She wore a perfect outfit, greeted Alexia with a sharp, too-white smile, and kissed your cheek a little too close to your mouth, her fingers lingering around your waist like she was staking a claim.

“Wow,” she said as she stepped inside, looking around. “So this is where the royalty lives.”

You laughed, too quickly. “Stop.”

She squeezed your hip and whispered, “Just kidding, baby.”

Olga welcomed her kindly, offered her a drink, tried to keep things light. Carmen accepted with a thank-you that didn’t quite meet her eyes. She made herself comfortable immediately, legs crossed, arm draped behind you on the couch, like she owned the place.

Alexia didn’t say much, but she watched. Carefully. Her fingers were tight around her tea mug, her eyes sharper than usual.

At dinner, it got worse.

“So, Estrella tells us you’re a writer?” Olga asked politely.

Carmen smiled. “Yeah, poem mostly. Not really into the fairytale stuff like some people.” She laughed and nudged you. “No offense, baby.”

You smiled a little too brightly. “I like fairytales.”

“Yeah, but you also cry when your soup is too spicy,” she said, with a fond eye-roll.

The table went quiet for a beat before Olga chuckled awkwardly. You stared down at your plate, cheeks warm.

Alexia asked a few more questions, about school, about her work, and Carmen answered them all confidently, but something was always just a little off. Like when you mentioned training, and Carmen interrupted to say, “She always exaggerates. Makes it sound like bootcamp, but she just runs around with a ball for two hours.”

Alexia’s expression didn’t change, but her grip on her fork did.

You kept laughing. Laughing and trying to smooth over the edges. You could feel how much Carmen didn’t fit, but you didn’t know how to name it yet. You just knew that when she put her hand on your thigh too tightly or cut you off mid-sentence, something inside you flinched.

Then came the final straw.

You were talking about something stupid, something small but yours. The story of how you scored your first goal in a match you weren’t even supposed to play in, how you kept the ball in a shoebox under your bed.

“And she cried, like, sobbed over it,” Carmen added with a chuckle. “Such a drama queen. I keep telling her she needs thicker skin.”

Your words died in your throat.

Alexia put her fork down gently, her expression unreadable. She looked up at Carmen, then directly at you.

“I don’t like her.”

Silence fell like a guillotine.

You blinked. Carmen let out a nervous laugh. “Excuse me?”

“I said,” Alexia repeated calmly, “I don’t like you.”

“Mami—” you started, your voice too high, panicked.

“I’ve been quiet all night,” she said, voice still calm, but there was steel behind it. “But I’m not going to sit here and watch someone belittle her in her own home. You talk over her. You dismiss her. You treat her like she’s lucky to have your attention. She’s not. You’re lucky to be here at all.”

Olga reached for Alexia’s hand, gently trying to diffuse it, but Alexia didn’t look away.

Carmen sat frozen for a second. Then stood. “I think I’ve overstayed my welcome.”

You stood too, voice trembling. “Carmen—”

“Text me when you’re done being a baby,” she muttered under her breath, loud enough for everyone to hear.

The door slammed shut a second later.

The silence left in her wake felt heavier than the confrontation itself.

You stood frozen, heart pounding, eyes wide. Then you crumpled into a chair. You didn’t cry right away. You just stared at your plate, numb.

“I’m sorry,” Alexia said quietly. “But I wasn’t going to let her treat you like that.”

You nodded. Slowly. “I loved her. Or… I thought I did.”

Olga got up and wrapped her arms around you, holding you tightly. You finally let yourself cry then, your face pressed into her shoulder, sobs catching in your throat.

Later, as you curled up on the couch in your favorite hoodie, your voice was small but clear.

“That’s not what love’s supposed to feel like, is it?”

Alexia shook her head. “No, bebita. It’s not.”

And you knew then that you were heartbroken, but not because she left. Because you had convinced yourself that being belittled was part of being loved. But now you knew better.

[wileys-russo]

👋🏻👋🏻

Reader and alexia during winter " if you steal the blankets again , I am gonna put my cold feet on you "

cold feet II a.putellas

"amor. you promised to put that away!" you scolded, returning from brushing your teeth and finding your girlfriends face illuminated by the gentle blue glow of the ipad which hadn't left her hands all evening.

you sat yourself down on top of her, knees either side of her torso and unimpressed glare piercing into her forehead as her own gaze remained locked on the screen, only a half hearted hum in response.

"you are like a badly behaved toddler at a restaurant!" you warned, having been on her case about screen time and a more healthy relationship with the device that she'd been glued to the moment she got home from training.

"que? i am no toddler!" the blonde scowled in response as your eyes rolled and you darted forward, snatching the device from her grip and quickly holding it out of reach where she tried to snag it back.

"cariño por favor. let me just finish-" once more the footballer tried to stretch up for it but you only pushed your own hand higher, taking a step back from the bed with a firm shake of your head.

"no ale. an hour ago you told me the same thing, and look where we are now? in bed, to sleep!" you warned, alexia muttering something under her breath as you got up off of her and disappeared from sight. making a point to leave her precious ipad in the living room where hopefully it would serve as a lessened temptation for the near thirty year old woman in bed waiting for you.

not that you'd know that with the way she'd become addicted to that stupid little screen, if you'd known it would become the third person in your relationship you'd have never encouraged she buy it in the first place.

and the worst part was all of this was because she'd become addicted to some weird little farming game you were sure one of her teammates had shown her, preferring carrots than kisses as you'd tried to divert her attention back to you for hours.

"alexia!" you huffed in annoyance as you returned, once more finding her face bathed with the soft blue glow of a digital screen, only this time it was her phone.

"es necesario tonta!" your girlfriend was quick to flip her phone in your direction, showing she was setting her morning alarm as you hummed skeptically and she pulled a face at you in response.

"nothing necessary about you waking up at five in the morning on your day off putellas." you grumbled, finally joining her in bed as she stretched over to place her phone back on the bedside table.

"nosotros." the blonde mumbled, the word paired with a soft kiss to your cheek as you rolled over to look up at her skeptically. "we? oh no, just you mi amor." you shot her down instantly, reaching up to squeeze her cheeks together gently in one hand before she pushed it off.

"mm but princesa we could go for a walk. get a coffee. watch the sun rise. muy romántica!" the catalan laid down beside you, arms encircling your torso as she shuffled herself closer, front pressed to your back as you were overwhelmed with the smell of the perfume she insisted on almost bathing in after a shower.

you settled as you felt warm lips trace soft kisses down your exposed shoulder, the oversized shirt hanging off of you as despite the chilly weather tonight alexia ran hot and if you slept in anything more than this you knew you'd wake up near boiling.

"or we could sleep in. order breakfast. eat it in bed together. más romántica!" you countered her offer with a grin, craning your head back to sweetly peck her lips which curled into a small smile of amusement.

"you do not want to get a coffee and watch the sun rise with me?" the blonde feigned an offended pout as you chuckled. "not in the middle of winter bebé." you wiggled an arm free from her grip and patted her cheek, the midfielder kissing your palm as your thumb tenderly traced the curve of her jaw.

"how about we sleep in. we go for a walk to get breakfast. watch the sun set on the beach." you offered as an alternative, the blonde watching you, eyes scanning each little detail of your face for a moment before answering.

"go for a walk to get breakfast. amor your favourite cafe is ten minutes away!" alexia laughed softly, the sound floating around the room as she shook her head. "sí? so we can walk there! you are welcome." you smiled happily as all your girlfriend could do was let out a small sigh.

"es difícil decirte que no." the girl tutted only causing your smile to widen as one of her hands slipped up the side of your shirt, fingers absentmindedly tracing shapes against the skin making your stomach tense.

"then say yes." you poked her nose as her eyes rolled and you moved a little further away to lean over and flick off the lamp, the room engulfed in a much welcomed darkness as you blinked a few times to adjust.

"we can even see if some of the girls want to come and kick a ball with you eh? keep you entertained." you teased, playfully smacking her forehead where the feather light kisses that had been previously peppered all over your face turned to a playful tug of your bottom lip with her teeth.

"or maybe i will just bring the ipad? you can sit and watch your little cartoons!" you cooed mockingly, squealing as you felt two ice blocks press against your bare calves.

"aleja eso de mi!" you warned, rolling over and pushing her away from you as the blonde let out a bark of laughter. "how does this-" you poked her shoulder. "-run so hot. but these-" you pointed to the end of the bed where her feet were.

"-are like ice!" you scowled, forever nagging your girlfriend about wearing socks to bed since she loved nothing more than to smother you with affection however the ice blocks which were attached to her ankles were not a welcome part of this.

"eh how you say it? i am, magic." the older girl wiggled her fingers at you as you rolled your eyes, though unable not to crack a small smile at the adorable tilt in her english, something you knew she'd worked on a lot to be able to communicate so much with your family who, as hard as you'd tried, barely spoke two words of spanish.

"you are, annoying." you stole a kiss before she could respond, the blonde only humming but also making no move to stop you as you moved to lay down half on top of her, fingers tapping away at her phone screen to turn off her alarm.

a few more minutes of chatter in between kisses and both of you were clearly tiring, eyes drooping and conversation slowed as instead of words now all you seemed to be able to do was hum at one another, shuffling a little further down into bed as you made yourselves comfortable, limbs entangled.

"if you steal the blankets again mi amor, i will put my cold feet on you." your girlfriend mumbled in your ear, squeezing your hips and feeling your body shudder for a moment with a snicker of quiet laughter.

"well if i wake up and find that ipad in here tomorrow morning, you and your cold feet can sleep on the couch putellas."

[satoshy12]

The Bats observed Talia al Ghul meeting with a young girl in a café. They weren't sure why the meeting was happening. The girl happily recounted her day, including an incident where someone tried to kidnap her.

"And then, I punched him as hard as I could between the legs. He vomited on the ground," Ellie said.

Talia giggled. "Oh, good. That's how you do it. I taught you well—always aim for between the legs."

Several women in the café nodded in agreement. Ellie continued, to talk.

From the Batcave, Barbara/Oracle, who was monitoring the meeting, nodded as well.

After finishing their cake and coffee (Talia) and lemonade (Ellie), they left the café.

"Come on, Grandma. You promised we'd visit Old Man Ra today."

"Dear, he's your great-grandfather. Please try to find a better nickname."

"He told me to call him Gramps or Old Man. Since you're my grandma, calling him Gramps would be awkward."

+A/N+

You can retire of the League. Just first talk to Ra about it. And he fakes your death and new ID. (Example Dusan and Mara and Danny the first born.)

Just other than 4-5 persons no one did retire and just left and ran away. (Example Bruce Wayne and Nyssa)

[miryum]

☆ 18+ minors dni ☆

Warnings: changes tenses like, two times, cause Jason is obvi still in love with you, so it would be weird if some things were in the past tense and such. Just go along with it

Virgin!Jason Todd who never had sex before he died and when he comes back in a different body, looking like he fucked half of Gotham, is still just a scared little kid underneath it all.

And then came you.

You met Jason at a Wayne Gala, coming as a friend of Duke’s. You didn’t know about any superhero personas, and it showed. Happy and carefree, you weren’t what Jason assumed of the average citizen of Gotham. The parallels didn’t escape him: you, dancing with Duke and slightly buzzed, and him, the epitome of a wallflower. Clothed in a stunning red dress that just so happened to be the exact same colour Jason had practically trademarked, Jason’s eyes followed you over the rim of his glass. He was nursing a cup of non-alcoholic cider because he would never touch a drop of alcohol after his parents.

“Who is that?” Jason murmured to Cass when she came over to hide from the party. Cass was the only one he felt remotely comfortable with. She didn’t know him before Red Hood, like Bruce, so she didn’t compare him to an energetic little boy that was just a memory in the mirror. She didn’t joke around and pretend everything was okay and dandy, like Dick. She didn’t constantly ask whether he was okay, like Steph, or dote on him like he was a broken birdie. She wasn’t holding past resentment, like Tim, who still hadn’t totally forgotten Jason’s rage at his replacement. And she wasn’t a reminder of the al Guhl’s, like Damian. Cass and Alfred were his safe space, even though both had their flaws.

“Y/n L/n,” Cass supplied, not asking any questions. “Duke met her at school and they clicked. She’s been coming over to the Manor more frequently. She’s actually pretty fun. Even Damian introduced her to his zoo.”

Jason couldn’t hold back a snort, wondering how that must’ve gone over. Damian was extremely protective of his pets, so only a select few could interact with them. Jason missed the cocked eyebrow Cass gave him, surprised at his reaction. He was too busy watching you pull Steph onto the dance floor.

“Um, when does she usually come around?” Jason asked, trying to be subtle and failing miserably. “Just so I can, you know, avoid her.

It was Cass’s turn to snort in amusement, before saying dryly, “Fridays or Saturdays.”

Did it surprise Cass at all when Jason just so happens to show up to the Manor on Saturday, claiming he forgot something from the party? No. No, it does not.

Dick was utterly shocked at Jason’s appearance. It was well known that Jason was just dipping his toe into the Batfam again. He usually stayed at his lonely apartment and only came over during a major holiday. Dick tried not to look anything into it, but he couldn’t help a surge of hope that his little brother may be coming back to them.

Alfred, on the other hand, was not surprised at all. In the recent mornings, Jason had been sneaking into the kitchen, just to talk to Alfred. The two shared a bond that few could achieve. When Bruce wasn’t acting as a father, Alfred was there. So when Jason appeared on Saturday morning, having carefully thought out that Friday was much too soon to officially meet you, Alfred had already set out another plate for breakfast.

“Did you acquire any sleep last night, Master Jason?” The butler asked as he flipped pancakes.

Jason chewed at his lip and shook his head. “I tried, but I was thinking too much, you know?”

“Your nightmares again?” Alfred prosed smoothly.

“No,” Jason replied smoothly. Y/n L/n.

Virgin!Jason Todd who knew you were coming over. What he didn’t know was that you were coming over under the pretence that you and Stephanie had a video game to finish, when truthfully, you wished to see the boy from the party that had caught your eye. You weren’t disappointed. Jason had taken up residence in the living room, foot propped on his knee as he oh-so-casually held a book in his hand.

Steph threw Jason a curious glance before throwing herself down on the couch and picking up a controller. “Y/n, this is Jason,” she introduced. “He’s… a brother,” she decided was the best way to describe him.

Jason, determined to look nonchalant, glanced up from his book (he had been staring at the same page for six minutes) and said, “hey.” Excellent conversation starter, Jason, he thought to himself sarcastically.

“Hi!” You gave him a small wave before sitting down next to Stephanie and taking a controller from her. Jason soon found it very difficult to keep pretending to read, not because of the shouts and yells you and his sister were making at the TV, but because of the groans coming from your mouth whenever something didn’t go the way you wanted. He couldn’t help but dream, wondering what other situations you would groan in.

He excused himself soon after, head ducked and neck flushed as he hurried out of the room. He didn’t notice you staring after him, wondering what was wrong. It wasn’t until Steph shouted out that you were about to die that you were snapped out of your trance.

Unfortunately, you did die in the video game, but you found an excuse to talk to Jason via the book he had left behind.

Cass easily supplied his address and so that’s how you found yourself at his door one Saturday evening.

It’s just a book, you reasoned. I could’ve left it at the Manor. This is stupid.

And yet, almost as if he sensed you, Jason opened the door right when you’re about to leave. “Y/n?” His voice was hoarse from disuse and even though he’s bigger and stronger and more dangerous than you, you couldn’t help but compare him to a child coming to their parents after a nightmare.

“Hey, Jason,” you said, holding the book close to your chest. “Um. I just came to return your book. You left it at the Manor.” You hesitated for a moment before asking, “you okay?”

Jason nodded and it was then you noticed his hair was wet from a shower and his grey shirt had sprinkles of little water droplets on the shoulders. “Did I disturb you?” you asked.

Jason immediately shook his head. “No. You could never disturb me.” He glanced at the book in your hands, eyes flicking back up to you before muttering, “thanks,” and grabbing the book from you.

Ripped out of your hands, leaving you without your lifeline, embarrassment bloomed on your face. You didn’t know whether to leave or to continue the conversation — if you could call this one.

Jason hated himself when he awkwardly closed the door in your face.

He tried not to cry himself to sleep that night, images of his scarred body in the bathroom mirror haunting him

Virgin!Jason Todd didn’t see you until next month’s gala. You made your way up to him, this time in a green dress that suited your complexion perfectly. Jason didn’t like seeing you in Damian’s colour. He much preferred his own.

During a slow dance, you asked with hands behind your back, “how was the book?” You leaned against the wall, smiling up at him. Jason really liked that smile, even if he didn’t deserve it. As much as he would hate to see it – jealousy swirled in him even at the thought – it was Dick who deserved that smile. He had always been the suave, smooth-talking one. Hell, right now, there were three girls talking to Dick.

Jason realised he hadn’t answered you. You deserved someone to pay attention to you. But if you could give him another chance to pay attention, he’d happily stare at you forever.

“Um. It was good. Is, I mean. I haven’t finished it yet.” He hadn’t been able to look at the book since you dropped it off. It only reminded him of how poorly he had treated you. And how dangerous you were to his feelings.

After a moment of awkwardness, you asked with a teasing and curious lilt in your voice, “do you not have anyone to dance with?”

Jason’s head whipped towards you. All semblance of coolness left him when you spoke to him. “I’m not really a dancer, princess.” The nickname slipped out and he wanted to bang his head against the wall. He didn’t notice your blush and small smile because he was too busy blushing himself and looking anywhere but you.

He wanted to tell you that he’s never danced before, but he would gladly dance a thousand dances with you. But he couldn’t say that because that would be too obvious. You’re not stupid, he rationalised. You’re perceptive and his poker face is ruined when it comes to you. You’d probably figured out he has a crush on you.

Which he does. A stupid, impossible, and terribly inconvenient crush.

As a kid, he didn’t have time for crushes. Between living in Crime Alley and being Robin, the closest thing he got to a crush was seeing pretty girls on the street. And then the Joker killed him before he was able to be a teenager.

But these feelings were bigger than he had ever felt for a girl on the street. Was this how a teenager was supposed to feel?

So why was he feeling this now when he was a full grown adult?

Virgin!Jason Todd who’s ears flush pink when you cheekily ask him if he has a significant other to dance with. No, he doesn’t have a girlfriend. How could he have a girlfriend when you’re standing next to him looking so pretty? A girlfriend? No, it’s laughable. He might feel attracted to you, but the idea that he could love someone and someone could love him back, even through all the brokenness… was simply absurd.

He wished he could find a better word than pretty. You’re much more than pretty. With all the romance novels he’s read, he should be able to turn his heart beats into words.

It was comical how he can walk into the most dangerous parts of Gotham and emerge without a scratch, but with you, his heart is carved up and shredded. Here he is, flustered over a pretty girl. How pathetic.

And then at the end of the night, when Dick clapped him on the chest and berated him for not using that opportunity to ask you out, Jason thought it was extra pathetic

Virgin!Jason Todd who didn’t know how to go about talking to you. He never learned how. He never had the growing pains of awkward middle school crushes. He was having them now. Should he be flirty like Dick and all those men he read about in books? Should he pass out in your arms from coffee overdose like Tim? Bruce was no help whatsoever and Jason didn’t fully trust him yet to go to him for help.

And bless Alfred, but he was too old for this kind of thing. The butler, depending on his age (for Jason dared not ask), would either subject him on how to marry Y/n L/n before Jason went off to war to fight the Rebels, or how to court Y/n L/n in an intricate dance of politeness and rules where they all wore ball gowns and three piece suits

Virgin!Jason Todd was definitely overthinking it all

Virgin!Jason Todd who knew it was impossible not to overthink when it comes to you. Everything needed to be perfect, because you are perfect. How could he ever ask you out, let alone love you when he had scars both inside and out? It was a good thing he wasn’t a hero, because heroes weren’t supposed to have scars. They weren’t supposed to have trauma. And Jason was the farthest thing from a hero. But that’s all you deserved: a hero

Virgin!Jason Todd who promised to worship you. He promised it to any deity who might be listening just in case they had the graciousness to lead you into his arms. He cursed Bruce the next time he goes to a gala and you’re not there

Virgin!Jason Todd who showed up on your doorstep that night, worried something was wrong. He was still in his suit and tie and shuffling nervously on your doorstep when you opened your home up to him. It turned out you had some work you had to catch up on, which is why you weren’t at the gala.

Hot chocolate and careful talking led to you reaching your hand out to tuck a piece of his hair back. He’s too busy dreaming about laying in bed and having you do that again and again to register your apologies, worried you overstepped. You were apologising. For touching him. He couldn’t stand the thought of that. That you thought you were rude or disrespectful. He needs you to touch him and to think you would apologise for the lovely, new feeling dancing in his stomach and slowly making its way to his heart

Virgin!Jason Todd who then gave you his first kiss, hesitant and slow. His lips pressed against yours, soft and hesitant and a bit off-centred. He tried his best not to let his teeth clash against yours, and he worried he did something wrong when you froze for a moment. But then you brought your hand up to touch his face and oh…

Virgin!Jason Todd who finally understood all those cheesy monologues when you tried to stutter out your emotions. He managed to calm both you and him by kissing you again. Jason found that his anxiety melted away when he kissed you, replaced by a feeling that felt a bit like anxiety, but mostly like home.

His hands laid in his lap, terrified to touch you, the art he was gifted to see. You reached down and gently guided his hands to your waist where he held you tenderly. Holy shit, what if he hurt you? His hands were made to hurt, not to love. How was he supposed to love?

He guessed that you would help him figure it out

Virgin!Jason Todd didn’t mind if the two of you didn’t make it to the bedroom for the next couple of dates. Hell, he would’ve been happy to keep your relationship to watching movies together, you tucked under his arm. He was able to touch you that way. He was able to slowly break down his walls and explore what you liked. A little brush across the side? The small massage of the calf? A kiss to the temple?

It wasn’t about four months into your relationship (which Jason was all too proud to boast and praise you about. He really liked hearing you call him your boyfriend, especially when another guy was hitting on you and they would turn around to see all 6 foot 3 inches and 200 pounds of him ready to throw hands.) that Jason felt himself want more. He wanted all of you. Guilt always gnawed away at him whenever his mind slipped into dangerous territory. Should he be feeling this way? He didn’t want it to seem that he was in this relationship for your body. And how would he ever approach the subject with you? Was he supposed to sit you down and talk about it or just go like all those people in the books and movies.

“Sweetheart?” Jason found you sitting on the floor, reading, because sometimes the floor was just better. He wiggled his way behind you, resting his head on your shoulder. Your hand automatically came to comb through his locks of hair.

He found himself explaining the situation to you

Virgin!Jason Todd who was shocked when you guessed he was a virgin. This was supposed to be some big revelation, but you said you’d deduced it a while ago. Not to mention the relief he felt when you said you’d walk him through it

Virgin!Jason Todd who didn’t know what to do. Now the both of you were in his bed, lips red from making out, a hickey proudly on his collarbone, and you were lifting your shirt up. And when you asked if you could take your bra off, he was pretty sure he had never nodded so quickly. You found it amusing that he was so nervous and excited, but also gratifying that you were the one he trusted enough. You were going to take Jason Todd’s virginity

Virgin!Jason Todd who had his hands guided to your breasts by you. His hands were still for a long moment, unsure of what to do. At his helpless stare, you said, “squeeze them, pinch them, just feel them, Jason.” Slowly kneading your breasts in his hands, Jason felt himself relax. He experimented by lightly pinching your nipple and apparently, that hitch in your breath meant he did something well

Virgin!Jason Todd who then carefully laid you down on his pillow, wanting to take a picture and forever hold onto this memory. But pictures could come later in your relationship. Not even a picture could capture this feeling that was blooming in his chest. You asked if he was ready for the next step and when he confirmed, you wiggled out of your pants

Virgin!Jason Todd who was a bit— oh my god, your thighs

Virgin!Jason Todd who was embarrassed to see your underwear and the wet spot that was slowly getting bigger all because of him. You reassured him that the two of you didn’t need to go any further, but Jason felt the unmistakable and mortifying tightening of his pants. You quickly sat up and tried to calm him down.

“Jay, baby, it’s okay. It’s normal to feel nervous. I just need you to communicate and tell me what you want. If you want to continue, great! If not, great! Let’s go put on a movie and have some popcorn. I will take this at your pace, angel.”

Virgin!Jason Todd didn’t know how you could see him as an angel when the Y-shaped scar on his chest told the story of a devil. A zombie. He wasn’t an angel. He was judge, jury, and executioner. He was a broken man and yet here you were, picking up every shard and piece and creating a fucking mosaic that spanned the cosmos

Virgin!Jason Todd who counted himself thankful a thousand times over when he was able to find the courage to lift his shirt and only see love in your eyes when you saw all his scars and cuts, etched into his skin, each a story that he would wish to forget.

He let you explore and press a kiss to each place he was insecure about. But then he laid you down and slowly slipped your underwear off. Jason swallowed back all the praises and prayers that would’ve fallen from his mouth and made him seem weird. Granted, you two had been dating long enough for you to know Jason revered you, but still

Virgin!Jason Todd who looked at you, wide eyed and heart swelling with love, when you told him that nothing had to happen that he wasn’t comfortable with. There didn’t need to be any oral or anything the first time around

Virgin!Jason Todd who wanted to do more things, but his cock was straining against his boxers so tightly that he might’ve come in his underwear if he didn’t get inside you

Virgin!Jason Todd who had read that he needed to stretch you out first, but you assured him he needn’t do that. Jason didn’t dare think of another man having you and so he did the only thing he could think of — slowly push into you.

Turns out the groans you made with you lost a video game where nothing like the moans you made when he bottomed out

Virgin!Jason Todd who tried so hard not to shoot his load into you when your walls clenched around him the first time.

“You’re making this very, very hard, princess,” he gasped out

Virgin!Jason Todd who managed a few short thrusts before you grinded on his hips and he felt himself losing control. “Y/n-“ he tried to warn you, when your whispered encouragement drove him over the edge. Instinctively, his hips pressed into yours, bucking and trying to obtain friction

Virgin!Jason Todd apologised profusely about the fact that you didn’t come. He felt so bad about it that he was about to get on his knees, determined to try oral for the first time, when you giggled and asked him if he wanted to go another round. Your fingers scratched through his hair and his resolve broke

Virgin!Jason Todd who stared up at you like seeing a goddess when you threw your leg over his waist, straddling him and taking charge

Virgin!Jason Todd who, eventually, after more rounds and more weeks, became more comfortable with pleasuring you and quickly became addicted to your body just as much as he was addicted to your heart and mind

Virgin!Jason Todd who became so much more confident in his body. He began to tease you in public, pinching your sides or hotly whispering into your ear all the things he’d like to do to you. He read some of your smutty books, mentally taking notes, and he studied female anatomy

Virgin!Jason Todd who blossomed into the sex god he looked like, but forever promised that he would only use those powers to pleasure you

Virgin!Jason Todd who wasn’t a virgin anymore

Got this idea from @ivysangel and so I wanted to tag them (thank you! 💕) and also wanted to tag some other people who commented/reblogged cause I was hoping they liked this too 😁🥰

@chinapoty @mxtantrights @thithesandofferings @rookiesbookies @delusionsofgrandeur13 @yourlocalcringydaydreamer @punkeropercyjackson @averageffreader @maarriiii @wordsfromshona @arkhxmknight @v1naco

[teamred]

obvious

✩‌ merchant!qimir x acolyte!reader | fluff | angst | humor | 2.3k

SUMMARY | during an evening of drinking with qimir, he strangely asks if you've ever thought about dating your master.

WARNINGS | kissing, drinking, implications of a spicy time post-story

RATING | teen+

NOTES | again this is probably outside of canon but all i can say is ilq (i love qimir)

///

In the lower level of Qimir’s newest target of a store invasion, several drunken bottles of alcohol and used shot glasses clutter the front counter. You sit across from him on a high stool, as if you were a customer to his bartending. 

Which wasn’t quite far off, since he was the one who poured and bought everything for you tonight. Qimir had called for a celebration; you had successfully raided a small village nearby, seizing all valuable goods and leaving no witnesses behind. You did it for yourself, but also for your anonymous master–the same one Qimir serves. 

While you are your master’s dedicated pupil, Qimir’s tasked with being your resourceful guide. He follows you across the galaxy, always having anything you need at your disposal and knowing where to go, who to find, and how to concoct everything from anything.

Sure, he may be clumsy and occasionally overly inquisitive, but you’ve grown to like him. 

So much that you're retelling the time when a female Gungan tried to fight you in a cantina on Tatooine.

“And so, it turned out they thought I was the one who stole her ex-boyfriend, but it was the human at the table next to mine!”

Qimir breaks into a smile and nearly spits out the lomin ale in his mouth. After a fit of coughing and swallowing his drink, he shakes his head fondly. He seems truly amused and fully relaxed, though perhaps mostly due to the alcohol.

A few beats pass. It's a comfortable silence at first. 

But then he starts playing with the stem of his bottle, and the air slowly begins to shift. It shifts entirely when he asks the next question–

“Why aren't you like this around him?” 

Him referring to your shared master. 

The mixture of spicebrew, lomin ale, Corellian wine, and whatever else you had has lowered your filter completely. You answer frankly, folding out your fingers to list the reasons. 

“Firstly, he needs to get me drunk. Secondly, he’s not you, Qimir. And third, disregarding everything I just said: how do you know I'm not?”

“Am I wrong?” he presses, his eyes fixed on you as he raises an eyebrow and takes another swig of his drink.

“I mean, if he eventually shows his face to me, maybe I could. But until then…” 

Nonchalantly, you lift a shoulder and down the rest of what’s in your cup. After finishing, you lean back onto the counter, resting your chin in your upturned palm, and wait for him to fill your cup again. 

And so he does, but Qimir becomes uncharacteristically pensive. Eyes focused on serving you, rather than on you. After pouring your drink, his playfulness with the bottle turns into a tight-fisted grip. Maybe drunk Qimir was more somber. Quiet.

“Maybe…” His voice drops to a lower, deeper register than you’re used to, his eyes avoiding yours as his mouth tightens. An index finger rhythmically taps against his bottle, like a dooming countdown. “Maybe he’s not sure if you’re loyal enough to see his face.” 

The sudden slamming of your cup against the counter breaks his demeanor, and he’s back to being his usual, easily-startled self. 

“Well, that frustrates the shit out of me because I respect him!” you cry, almost yelling at him. 

Qimir’s gaze sharpens, giving you his entire attention, and you stare back resolutely. Readying yourself, as if confiding in him might reach your master’s ears, wherever he may be. Hell, he probably was listening with a device somewhere on Qimir, on you, or within the store.  

“I obey him. I've killed for him. I’d do anything for him,” your voice slightly wavers, but you push on. “I am literally devoted to him with every breath in my body.” 

There’s a sting in your eyes, but you refuse to let yourself show weakness, even if it’s just Qimir in front of you. Bringing the cup to your mouth, you let the burn scald your throat, drowning any trace of sadness or frustration. 

You chug for some time. After a while, Qimir lifts a hand, but you abruptly stop drinking and interject with a tired chuckle and small smile; he awkwardly drops his hand. 

The serious moment passes swiftly with a twinkle in your eye. You silently thank the alcohol for that.

“Although, maybe that's half a lie.”

In the corner of your vision, you catch the intrigued quirk in Qimir’s eyebrow, along with a flicker of anger. Barely noticeable, but it’s there, and you wonder why he would be angry.

You waggle a finger. “Keep this between us, but”—you lean in closer and drop your voice to a whisper—“I'm probably more devoted to you than to him.”

You exchange a glance, and the expression on his face shifts from seriousness to amusement, the flicker of anger completely dissipated. He mirrors your earlier stance, resting his chin in his palm. 

“That's only because I help you all the time,” he says, granting you a soft smile that reaches his eyes. 

This is a rare moment from Qimir, so you try your best to commit it to memory. Remembering his warm glow, the crinkles around his eyes, and how close he is to you. So close that the hint of the alcohol in his breath brushes your face, but it’s not as strong as you thought it would be.

“Well, there's that…” you admit, nodding, and you break eye contact as you say–

“But you're also my friend, Qimir.”

You barely breathe the last few words out in a whisper, almost as if you were ashamed to say it. But you aren’t–worry merely runs rampant as you fear rejection or something of a similar shade, despite it being just a platonic confession. 

“I am?” 

His reaction causes you to peer back at him. He draws his head back with a tilt, and you’ve never seen him so puzzled before. There’s a brief pause as he gives it some thought, his eyebrows furrowing in contemplation.

Then, he nods his head and his lips curl into a crooked, almost cocky, grin. 

“Huh. I guess I am.”

You clutch your chest in jest and muster your best puppy-eyed frown. “Ouch, if I knew this relationship was that one-sided, I would’ve asked him for another one of his followers to replace you.” 

The glimmer in his eyes reads as good-natured, but the blatant flexing of his grip against the edge of the counter says otherwise. 

“You wouldn't.”   

You push back, jutting out your chin and getting close to him again with a flash of a smirk. 

“Oh, I absolutely would.”

You stare at each other, holding your ground. 

But then he breaks the little game when he slightly drags his lower lip between his teeth, followed by a fleeting glance towards your mouth.

Your breathing hitches. 

In an instant, the moment shatters when Qimir clears his throat and pulls back.  

“Do you…” Qimir begins hesitantly, his thumb absentmindedly rubbing a random spot on the counter. He inhales deeply, almost as if he’s steeling himself, then continues, “Have you ever thought you and him could be, like, something more?”

“You mean…” You squint, searching for the right words. “...have I ever thought about dating my master?” 

“Mm-hmm.” 

You raise an eyebrow and stare blankly at him. 

“You've met him, right? We’re talking about the same guy?”

Before he answers, he sips again from his bottle. You become entranced by Qimir’s Adam’s apple as it bobs with each glug. Maybe these thoughts were being filtered through beer goggles, but if Qimir wanted to know about your current ranked dating choices, he'd probably be at the top of your list. 

A soft pop sounds as his lips detach from it. The word kissable flashes through your mind. 

“I mean, I know he's not really the talkative type but–”

“But what if he's butt-ass ugly?” you blurt out in a screech, pressing your hands into your cheeks in your drunken state.

“He is not butt-ass ugly,” Qimir cuts in, more defensively than you expect. 

You drop your hands and chortle loudly, so much that it echoes throughout the store. In disbelief, you grin ear to ear. 

“I thought you said you haven't seen him before!” you say, holding out an arm. 

“I—I didn't. Haven't! I haven’t,” he stammers, raising a hand and shaking his head. He runs a hand through his disheveled hair. “But why must you assume he's ugly?”

You groan, shaking closed fists and tapping them to your forehead. “Why else wouldn’t he take off that stupid mask?” 

You glance up, seeing Qimir’s nostrils flare as he opens his mouth, but you quickly cut him off. 

“And why would I like him that way anyway? All he does is just bark orders and share wise, yet oddly cryptic, phrases.” 

“Hey, so do I,” Qimir retorts, flicking the tip of your nose with his finger. The force he uses makes your nose sting a bit, but you’re sure he didn’t mean to flick you that roughly. In response, you ruffle your nose petulantly. 

You could definitely get used to being like this with Qimir more often. 

“Yeah, but you’re not as cryptic,” you point out, “and he’d be lucky if he was half as handsome as you, Qimir.”

You lightly touch his arm, expecting him to bask in your compliment, but he catches you off guard with a chuckle instead. 

“Why are you laughing at my compliment?” you ask, somewhat hurt.

“I'm just enjoying your company, my”—he hesitates for a second, as if catching himself from saying something else, before meeting your gaze—“my friend.” 

The way he says friend hangs in the air, carrying an unspoken weight. He shakes his head, as if brushing off a thought, and laughs awkwardly. “I’ve gotta get used to that.”

Surprisingly, he continues to dwell on the subject of you and your master. “I mean, if you really think about it, the guy's probably lonely. Probably also likes you a lot more than he lets on and–”

“Okay, stop.” You hold both hands out. “Why are you trying to set me up with him?” You gasp, “Oh, my god–is he your brother?” 

“Wow, time flies by so fast!” Qimir exclaims dramatically, quickly getting up from his stool and practically tripping on his own feet. “It’s getting late, and I’m gonna head to bed. Good night!” 

In the blink of an eye, he’s already darting upstairs to his temporary bedroom. 

“Qimir, answer me!” you call out. “Is he a distant cousin? You must’ve seen him before if he’s related to you.” 

“Good night, my friend!” he hollers back.

“Qimir, get back here!”

“Sweet dreams! And drink some water before you go to bed!” 

Even in moments like these, Qimir still manages to have the final say, his words always laced with the utmost care for you.

///

A few hours go by, the moonlight shining strongly in the night sky. In the comfort of your makeshift bed nestled in one of the corners of the store, you toss and turn aimlessly. Your mind replays everything with Qimir from the last few hours.

And then realization hits you like a sack of duracrete bricks.

You bolt upright up from the bed and switch between muffling a scream in your pillow and smacking it against your face. 

How could you have been so blind to how obvious it all was?

Throwing aside your covers, you carefully and quietly tiptoe upstairs. 

At the top of the stairs, with the help of a few burning candles nearby, you peek at the sight of Qimir snoring softly on his side, arms flopped in different directions; it warms your heart.

You approach and take a seat on the empty side of his bed, summoning courage to gently trace the contours of his face, following the sharp lines of his jaw. He stirs awake moments later, turning to face you directly. 

“Hey, what’s up?” Qimir mumbles groggily. He rubs his eyes. “Everything all right?” 

“Qimir, can you pass a message onto my master?” you ask urgently. 

“Right now?” he groans in annoyance, sitting up. “Can't it wait until morning?” 

“No, I'm sure you can pass it on now. It’s a pretty simple message.” 

You lean in. It’s a quick kiss as your hand rests on his arm. It has to be quick, or else you might change your mind. 

Plush lips press against yours. It’s still and tense for a beat, and then he replies with a slight kiss back. He’s the one who breaks away first, but he leans his forehead against yours.

“Uh, I… You want me to kiss him?” he asks in confusion. 

You slide your hands to the nape of his neck.

“If you mean kissing yourself, then yes, Master.” 

Like flipping a switch, Qimir’s demeanor transforms into something entirely else. His presence intensifies, exuding confidence and strength you’re unused to. His eyes darken, locking onto yours with a gaze that can penetrate your soul. 

His rich, deep voice returns from before, now tinged with authority.

“Took you long enough, my acolyte.”  

This Qimir—your master—moves swiftly with urgency. His grip on your body is firm, almost possessive. His kisses are passionate, his tongue exploring your mouth with fervor. 

“Told you I'm not ‘butt-ass ugly,’” he mumbles, almost growling, between kisses. You giggle, but your giggle quickly turns into a moan as he presses his body firmly into yours.  

“And my mask isn’t stupid. I'll have you know it saved me so many–”

You silence your master with another kiss, focusing on the present and pushing aside debates that could be saved for later.

For now, all you want is to remain in the comfort of his bed, letting the night truly begin, marking the beginning of what your master and you have unknowingly long awaited for. 

[cryinggirlnamedhelen]

inspired by the incredible beautiful amazing perfect absolutely scrumptious timeskip artwork of isagi and rin by @pennim4 🫶

cause i feel so high school; every time i look at you

ft ; timeskip!isagi, timeskip!rin (separately)

content ; gn!reader, hc format, isagi fanart linked HERE, rin fanart linked HERE (once again, thank you to the wonderful artist!)

synopsis ; what’s it like being their lover in their adult lives?

song ; so high school by taylor swift

isagi yoichi

‎♡ if it wasn’t already obvious, isagi is the sweetest. always making sure to not allow you to carry heavy items, always picking up groceries or take-out after practice. although the latter is done with a cap, sunglasses, and a mask to make sure no fans see him.

‎♡ his schedule is tight, as he has to wake up and go to sleep at unimaginable times to practice. he already feels bad enough, considering how you have to do online classes for college just to live with him in germany, as he plays for bastard münchen; meanwhile, you’re in the university of tokyo. because of this, he always makes sure to spend time with you, no matter how tired or busy he is.

‎♡ he will always talk about you at press conferences and interviews. “oh, my jersey? yeah, it’s pretty popular, right? my lover wears mine all the time.” “what do i think about when i score goals? oh, my lover.” the media and journalists are all fed up with him; he literally can’t answer anything without bringing you up. but his fans—crazy fans who are obsessed aside—all find it adorable.

‎♡ you both visit japan every once in a while, always staying at both of your parents’ homes. they’re always asking when you’ll get married, but isagi always just turns beet red every time. whenever you both visit his parents’ house, they’re always fawning over you. they both adore you; after all, you were his childhood best friend. whenever you both leave to go back to germany, your bags and suitcases are full of items that both of your parents’ gave.

‎♡ whenever his fans see you in public, they’re always immediately running over to you. you’re fairly active on social media, and although many people only see you as “the person isagi is dating”, you have your own collection of fans from how lovable you are, most of them also being isagi’s fans. plus, if you’re out, that means isagi’s somewhere around you too. he knows better than to let you go out alone, with so many creepy fans of his.

‎♡ sometimes you’ll take out your phone and pull up a picture of isagi when he was a kid, bringing it next to his face and comparing it to him. in the end, you would just sigh from the nostalgia and leave him confused and a little embarrassed, although he found it funny too. you missed the days when he was too shy to talk to you whenever your family was talking with his parents, back when he was still the cutest kid around.

itoshi rin

‎♡ rin isn’t someone who screams “im the nicest guy ever!” but he tries. over the years, he’s become more mature; he’s mellowed out. he still gets flustered easily, but he’s learned how to control it and how to stop being so undeniably unlikable. he still has a pretty foul mouth, but his anger issues have toned down…a little bit.

‎♡ he also has a pretty damn busy schedule, but not nearly as bad as isagi’s. rin practices a lot, but unlike isagi, he doesn’t constantly entertain or talk to the media or paparazzi or even fans for that matter. he just finishes practice and drives straight home unless you want him to pick something up from the store or if you need him to run a few errands. otherwise, he wants to spend as much time as he can with you, especially since you were willing to move to spain with him since he plays for re al.

‎♡ never ever ever ever EVER doubt his loyalty. whenever someone asks him anything about romance, even if it’s something as simple as “what type of person are you into?” he just immediately answers “my lover.” unlike many of the other adult former blue lockers, rin had never once been involved in a sex scandal or cheating gossips. he’s never seen interacting with any celebrities other than his teammates and fellow former blue lockers, and most other celebrities seem pretty scared of him.

‎♡ his social media account is practically inactive, with no liked posts and no reposts. and yet, on each platform, he has over 25 million followers. but he doesn’t need to scroll the posts mindlessly; he has you to do that. strangely, at night, when you’re both alone surrounded by nothing but the comfort of each other (and your cat laying on top of him), his chin is on your shoulder as you’re both watching tiktoks on your phone together. he makes comments every once in a while, sentiments such as “that’s stupid” or “damn. just break up already”, but he usually just stays quiet to bask in your presence.

‎♡ a lot of fans always ask you which side of the itoshi brothers beef you’re on, and you always just brush it off with a comment or two. “@(y/nnnnnn)_rin’s #1 fan, which side of the itoshi siblings angsty beef r u on???” “@itoshisiblingsmakesmesad, idk it’s just funny imo. their miscommunication is fr worse than kazehaya and sawako’s😭 my husband and brother-in-law beefing lmao” the fans love you, rin’s pr team hates you. rin doesn���t really know how to feel about your comments, so he usually just stares at you for a few minutes before continuing with his day.

‎♡ the media hates rin just as much as they hate sae, which is quite the accomplishment. rin never answers any of their questions unless it’s about you, in which it’s usually a snappy or snarky remark to the interviewer. he’s stoic, and doesn’t really have a reaction to anything that they ask him unless it’s about you. once, he was trying to get home after practice especially quickly since it was your anniversary, but the paparazzi and media wouldn’t stop bothering him. he almost got physically violent with them before he manager pulled him away, in which rin immediately drove home to you and played with your cat for the rest of the night.

[wosola]

Not in the mood - Alexia Putellas x Reader

Summary: Your girlfriend Alexia is back from a couple of days away for football. She has a rest day, but when you come back from work you are not in the mood... or so you tell Alexia. Genre: Fluff / Smut Warnings: Minors do not interact, 18+

You had tried to go home as quick as possible when your workday was done. Today was a rest day for Alexia and that meant one of the rare occasions you and her could spend some quality time together.

She had texted you throughout the day about the things she´d been up to and about how much she was missing you.

You adored her, she was doing the laundry at home even though she was a six figure earner, while you made a mediocre salary. She was almost never home, and when she was she helped out in the house hold.

She was the perfect girlfriend. It is cool that she is a football player ofcourse, but that wasn´t why you had fallen in love with her. No.

You had fallen for the sweet, soft and caring woman that was called Alexia Putellas. Who also happened to be a pro football player, earning her the nickname ´la Reina´. Rightfully so, she really was a queen.

You stepped through the front door of the apartment the two of you shared. Having moved in together after a small 7 months of dating. Now it was already close to you two´s 2 year celebration, and things where still going as good as ever. Maybe even better if that was possible.

´´Good afternoon babyyy.´´ You called out in the hallway while dropping your bag, taking of your shoes and putting your coat on the rack.

You walked in to the apartment to be met with alexia watching tv and folding laundry simultaneously. She looked cute, her attention completely turned to the show she was watching. That was such an Alexia thing, always having her whole heart in the things she did.

´´Ale.´´ You chuckled, softly. You didn´t want to startle her.

She blinked and looked up, she turned to you and smiled. ´´heyyy.´´ She put the towel she was holding next to her and stood up from the couch, ´´I missed you.´´

´´I missed you too, how was your day?’’ you asked walking towards her.

She took you in her arms, holding you close, ‘’mmmm,’’ she swayed you back and forth, ‘’my day was good, I did absolutely nothing though, so I can’t wait to train again tomorrow.’’

You chuckled against her chest, ‘’you did laundry, you did the dishes, you vacuumed and made the bed,’’ you looked up and kissed her jaw, ‘’I think you did a lot for a so called ‘rest day’, ‘’

‘’Hm,’’ Alexia let out a disagreeing hum, but kissed the top of your head, ‘’and how was your day.’’

‘’Oh good,’’ you smiled, peeling yourself away from her slightly so you could see her face, ‘’I had a really good talk with that one client I told you about and I got a lot of paperwork done, so I had a very productive day.’’

Alexia smiled, ‘’I am proud of you.’’

You smiled back, ‘’I am proud of you too, my superstar.’’

Alexia rolled her eyes at the way you said ‘my superstar’, you always had to reply to compliments either jokingly, sarcastically or denyingly, she whished you would just accept her compliments for once.

You ignored her with a chuckle and kissed her, ‘’so what do you want to do this afternoon?’’ you murmured after slightly pulling away again.

Alexia blinked, thinking a second before pulling you in for another kiss. ‘’mm maybe we can cuddle on the couch?’’ she said after breaking the kiss.

You smiled, ‘’mm that would be nice, let me put on some comfy clothes and I’ll join you.’’

Alexia nodded, ‘’perfect, I’ll finish the laundry and put it away.’’

-

Alexia didn’t finish the folding, instead she took the laundry, half folded, half not. In the basket back to the room, following just a few moments behind you.

You had just taken your blouse and skirt off, sitting on the bed to take of your tights without creating any ladders.

You shook your head as you saw alexia standing in the doorway with the basket of laundry.

‘’You where right, I have done enough things for my rest day.’’ She explained, setting the basket down.

She stayed there, leaning against the wall, watching now as you had stood up and opened the closet.

You turned around with sweatpants, throwing them on the bed. You caught her gaze flicking up from your ass, quickly to land on your face. You smirked, ‘’sure no other reason you followed me?’’

Alexia walked over to you and wrapped herself around you, ‘’mm yes actually, wanted to tell you to put one of my sweaters on,’’ she kissed your neck as she reached out and grabbed a dark blue Barça hoodie from her stack of clothes, ‘’this one is very comfy.’’

You chuckled as you turned around and took the hoodie, which you had already worn maybe a hundred times, from her. ‘’Oh thank you, how considerate.’’

She nodded, ‘’only the best for my girl.’’

You shook your head amused as you threw the sweater on the bed as well, then you grabbed an undershirt and turned to the bed.

First you put on the sweatpants, then you removed your bra. You knew Alexia was watching but you didn’t give her any attention, it amused you. Then you put on the shirt and the hoodie and turned to her, ‘’very comfy.’’

She looked at you triumphantly. ‘’Do I deserve a kiss for helping you?’’

Chuckling, you took her hand to pull her closer, ‘’you always deserve a kiss.’’

She smiled like a kid who had just been told they could have as many pieces of candy from the jar as they wanted.

Alexia held your face and pecked your lips about a dozen times before giving you a proper kiss.

After a couple minutes you pulled back, you chuckled. ‘’Alright, lets get to the couch then.’’

A bit dazy, alexia looked at you, ‘’mhm, yes ofcourse, the couch.’’

-

You laid down on the couch as Alexia made two cups of tea.

She came back setting the cups down and next to your tea she laid down a cookie with one bite out of it.

‘’Mm nice,’’ you chuckled, ‘’a chewed cookie.’’ Often when Alexia brought you a snack it had a little bite missing, she always said the same;

‘’made sure it’s safe for you, and I can confirm there’s no poison in it.’’ alexia said with a serious face, knowing damn well she had done it with the other 4 cookies from this same pack as well the last days.

‘’I’m so lucky,’’ you rolled your eyes, ‘’you protect me from all the evils of the world.’’

‘’mhm,’’ alexia nodded proudly, ‘’now, can I lie behind you?’’ she asked, eying the bit of space you had left, balancing on the edge of the couch.

you nodded, leaning even more towards the edge.

alexia stepped behind you and tugged a blanket along with her. covering the both of you as she wiggled until she was happy with both of your positions.

‘’Shall we watch this,’’ you said, pointing with the remote at the show selected, ‘’looks fun.’’

‘’Mhm,’’ Alexia didn’t even look at the screen, her face nuzzled in your neck and her hand searching for the hem of your sweater.

You put the show on and put the remote on the coffee table as you felt alexia’s hand creeping below your shirt. You shivered as her cool hands traced the skin of your stomach.

‘’Ale, its colddd.’’ You said, trying to take her hand away from under your shirt.

‘’But I want to hold you.’’ She pouted, her lips finding your neck, kissing you softly as her hand crept up further and further, ‘’can I hold them? I missed them.’’ She pouted innocently.

You scooched back further against her, feeling her warmth against your back. You sighed and agreed halfheartedly, ‘’fine.’’

She smiled against your neck, ‘’mmm I love you,’’ she murmured as she gave both of your boobs some attention before cupping one and settling like that.

With one arm below your head, one hand under your shirt and her back flush against your front the two of you laid there for a while.

Every now and then you took a sip of the tea until it was finished and your cookie was gone too.

You where pretty invested in the show you had put on, it was some show about lawyers. Overly dramatized ofcourse, but entertaining nonetheless.

Alexia seemed to be contend too, she place kisses in your neck every once in a while and her hand was rested comfortably on your chest. Now that her hand was warmed to the same temperature as you where, it was fine.

-

All of a sudden you noticed Alexia removing her hand from your boob, trailing lower. It send a shiver along your spine.

She moved a bit, straightening herself against you as her hand was on your stomach.

‘’Ale’’ You said, your voice sounding in a tone somewhere between warning and absence, your gaze still on the tv.

“What?” she asked softly, her hand finding your hip, pulling you impossibly closer.

You took her hand, guiding her arm around you and clasping it gently with both of yours. Preventing her further distractions.

In response, she began placing soft kisses along your neck, each one lingering just enough to make your skin tingle. She knew exactly what she was doing.

“We were just going to cuddle,” you sighed, trying to hold onto the original plan.

“We are cuddling,” she whispered in your ear, her breath warm and teasing. “I just missed you.”

A shiver ran down your spine as goosebumps spread along your neck. “I missed you too, Ale,” you murmured, your attention now drifting completely away from the show. Just yesterday, Alexia had returned from a three-day trip to Germany for a Champions League match.

Turning around to face her, you smiled, your forehead nearly touching hers. “But now you’re home, hm?”

She didn’t seem to hear, her gaze fixed on your lips as if transfixed.

“Ale?” you chuckled softly.

She blinked, finally meeting your eyes. “Yeah, you’re my home.”

You rolled your eyes, cupping her face and brushing your thumbs gently over her cheeks. “Where’s your head at?”

“What?” She tilted her head, eyebrows knitting together. “My head is right here—with you. I’m thinking about you.”

You chuckled, unconvinced. “Mhm.”

“It’s true,” she murmured, tilting her face closer to yours, “and I want a kiss, please.”

You leaned in and kissed her, soft at first, but Alexia’s hand slid to the back of your neck, pulling you deeper into her. The kiss quickly grew hungrier, her lips moving against yours like she’d been waiting forever.

When you broke away to breathe, she didn’t let you go far, her mouth already trailing to your jaw and then your neck, her kisses soft but clearly needy. Her hands slid to your hips, tugging you tight against her.

“What are you after?” you teased, trying to hide your smile.

“Missed you,” she murmured against your skin, her tone so earnest it made you chuckle.

“Oh, I couldn’t tell,” you replied, laughing a little, even as her lips found the spot on your neck that always made you melt.

She pulled back just enough to meet your eyes, a playful glint dancing in hers. “Let me show you,” she whispered, her hands sliding lower as she leaned closer, “déjame mostrarte how much I missed you.”

The way she said it—serious and full of adoration—made you laugh again. You kissed her because she was adorable.

Alexia kissed you back, but not with the same playful energy. Her lips moved hungrily, her grip tightening on your hips.

You pressed a hand to her chest, holding her back just enough to catch your breath and calm her down.

“What?” Alexia said breathlessly, eyes flicking between yours and your lips. “Something wrong?”

You bit your lip. “I’m not really in the mood, Ale.”

Alexia’s face fell, her pout so exaggerated you almost laughed. “¿No? No quieres? You don’t want to have sex?”

“I’m just a little tired,” you admitted, watching her expression turn soft but still a little dramatic. “I know it’s been a while. Maybe tomorrow.”

Her lips pressed into a thin smile, nodding. “Okay, mañana…” She pulled you closer, then grinned mischievously. “Orrr…” Before you could react, she rolled you onto your back and leaned over you.

“You can just relax,” she whispered in your ear, her voice low and teasing, “and I’ll make you feel good.” Her lips brushed against your skin as she added, “Then we’ll order food and eat it in bed.” She raised her eyebrows at you playfully, wagging them suggestively.

“Are you seriously trying to turn me on by mentioning ordering sushi?” you asked, unable to hide your smile.

“Is it working?”

“Almost.”

“Mmm,” she hummed, leaning down to press her lips to your neck. “What if I give you a massage, then we order sushi, and while we wait…” Her kisses grew slower, her breath warm against your skin. “I’ll give you head.”

Your mouth fell open. “Alexia!”

“What?” she asked innocently, her lips brushing your collarbone. “You love getting head, no?”

“Who even taught you to say that?” you said, clicking your tongue disapprovingly.

“TikTok,” Alexia replied proudly, her grin too pleased with herself.

You let out a short laugh. “I still can’t believe Vicky convinced you to get on TikTok.”

She rolled her eyes. “Well, you knew what I meant, so I guess we’re both bad.”

You shook your head, stroking her hair fondly. “You’re not bad—you’re cute. I was just caught off guard.”

Alexia beamed, then kissed your neck again, nuzzling her nose against your skin. “So… back to my plan,” she murmured, her lips brushing the pulse point on your neck as her tongue flicked teasingly. “I’ll give you a massage, we’ll order sushi, and then…” her voice slowed as she pressed another kiss to your neck. “I’ll give you head. Make you feel really, really good.”

-

After a couple more words you agreed. Alexia grabbed her phone and ordered sushi, barely glancing at the menu before hitting confirm. “forty minutes,” she said with a triumphant grin.

You rolled your eyes playfully as you stood up and made your way to the bed. “Plenty of time for that massage you promised, then.”

She followed you, practically bouncing and waited as you stretched out on your stomach, the soft sheets cool against your skin.

‘’At least take the sweatshirt off amor.’’

You shifted, taking the sweater off and laid back down on your stomach, your arms besides your body. Your head sideways, sending her a smile. ‘’mkay, I’m ready,’’ you chuckled.  

Her hands were on you almost immediately, warm and firm, starting at your shoulders.

“Just relax,” she murmured, leaning down to kiss the back of your neck softly. “I’ll take care of you.”

Her thumbs worked into the knots in your shoulders, and you sighed as the tension began to melt away.

Suddenly she sat up, ’’I think you need to take off the clothes, then I can massage you better.’’

You staid quiet, finally relaxed, waiting for her to continue if you just ignored her. When she didn’t you rolled over and looked at her.

Alexia shot you a small smile, ‘’massage oil.’’ She offered innocently.

You rolled your eyes but smiled at her, ‘’okay but let’s put a big towel on the bed then, you just changed the sheets.’’

-

It wasn’t long before Alexia’s hands wandered your skin again, her palms smoothing over your back with a deliberate slowness, her lips following. She pressed kisses to your shoulder blades, then down your spine, her breath warm against your skin.

“This is a massage, not a make-out session,” you teased, voice muffled by the sheets.

“Shhh, it’s both,” she said with a grin, her hands sliding to your sides, fingers brushing your ribs in a way that made you squirm. “Feels good, no?”

“Mhmm,” you hummed, but the way her lips lingered just a little too long at the small of your back made you suspicious.

Her hands drifted lower, kneading at your hips, then your thighs, her touch deliberate but clearly suggestive. “You’ve got such a perfect body, querida” she murmured, her voice low as she placed another kiss just above the curve of the waistband of your underwear.

“Alexia…” you said, a warning tone in your voice, but it lacked any real conviction.

“What?” she asked innocently, her hands trailing back up to your shoulders, only to work their way back down, slower this time.

By the time her lips started leaving kisses along the backs of your thighs, you were biting your lip to keep from whining—or moaning. “You know exactly what you are doing,” you muttered, turning your head to glance back at her.

“Making my love feel good,” she replied with a grin, her hands sliding up your sides again, her lips brushing the sensitive skin of your lower back. ��I’m just doing what feels right.”

You rolled onto your back, her hands quickly finding your waist as she hovered over you, a smug little smirk on her face. “You’re so annoying,” you said, but your cheeks were flushed, and she noticed.

“Annoying? I think you secretly like it,” she teased, leaning down to kiss your collarbone. “You like it when I take care of you, cariño, don’t you?”

Her lips trailed lower and the heat building between you became impossible to ignore. You let out a breathless laugh, your fingers finding her hair as her kisses moved toward your stomach. “You’re not going to stop until I say it, are you?”

She looked up at you, grinning but completely serious. “Say what?”

You rolled your eyes, cheeks burning as you pulled her closer. “Okay I like it, fuck, I want you.”

Her smirk grew impossibly wider, her eyes lighting up. “Now that,” she said, kissing just below your navel, “is the only thing you needed to tell me.”

Her hands slid lower, and you let your head fall back, your laughter turning into a soft sigh as she kissed her way down, wasting no time making good on her promise.

You lifted your legs when she tugged of your only remaining piece of clothing, your panties.

Alexia’s lips traveled up the inside of your thighs, slow and teasing, leaving a trail of heat in their path.

 Her hands gripped your hips firmly, holding you in place as her kisses grew closer, breath fanning against your skin. She let out a low groan, her nose brushing along your sensitive skin as she murmured, “Dios… I missed this.”

You shivered at her words, your hands tangling in her hair as she kissed closer and closer. “Missed the way you taste,” she said softly, her voice laced with hunger and then her tongue flicked against you, sending a jolt of pleasure through your body.

Her movements were slow at first as she savored every moment. She groaned again, this time louder, as if the sound itself was pulled from her chest. “You’re my favorite taste,” she muttered between strokes, the reverence in her tone making your head spin.

Your back arched as she found the perfect rhythm, her tongue and lips working to push you closer to the edge. You could feel the pressure building, your breathing ragged as your thighs trembled around her head.

It went on like that for a couple minutes, but just as you felt yourself slipping over the edge, the doorbell rang.

You tensed, eyes flying open as Alexia paused, looking up at you apologetically. “Sorry, baby. One second.” She started to pull away, but your hand tightened in her hair.

“Alexia, don’t you dare stop,” you said breathlessly, glaring down at her.

She gave you an adorably sheepish look, her lips glistening, but she gently pried your hand from her hair. “I’ll be right back,” she said, kissing your inner thigh before grabbing a piece of the towel and wiping her mouth quickly.

You let out a frustrated groan, flopping back onto the bed as she hurried to the door, throwing it open with a too-sweet smile at the delivery driver. “Gracias,” she said briskly, practically snatching the sushi bag before shutting the door and rushing back to the bedroom.

She dropped the bag onto the bedside table and crawled back onto the bed, her grin smug as she settled between your thighs again. “So,” she said, kissing the inside of your knee before moving upward, “now you do want me, huh?”

“Alexia,” you growled, your tone both annoyed and desperate.

She laughed softly, her hands gripping your thighs to pull you closer. “Relax, cariño. I’ll take care of you.”

And with that, her mouth was on you again, picking up right where she left off, her teasing forgotten as she focused on one thing; finishing what she’d started.

She made you come with eagerness that left you breathless, her name tumbling from your lips as waves of pleasure crashed over you.

Afterward, she pressed soft kisses to your thighs and stomach, murmuring sweet words in Spanish before she cleaned you up with gentle care.

-

Minutes later, the two of you were curled up in bed, the glow of satisfaction and warmth surrounding you as you plucked a piece of sushi from the box and held it to Alexia's lips with a grin. “Your turn to be spoiled,” you chuckled.

She laughed softly, taking the bite before grabbing a piece to feed you in return. “I love spoiling you, my love.''

[piastappies]

˗ˏ` EMOTIONS! 🍵 ´ˎ˗

pairing. theodore nott x reader

summary. theo never handled his emotions right, and when his girlfriend shows up in a wrong moment, things escalate and theodore doesn’t know how to fix it.

THEO HAS BEEN A TICKING BOMB LATELY and you knew that. it’s been bothering you, but every time you tried talking some senses into him, he brushed it all off, saying something too stupid and reckless for you to hear, so the topic was dropped sooner than it was brought up.

it was one of those times again, when a recurring thought was planted into your brain that you didn’t know your boyfriend like you thought you would. theodore hasn’t been himself lately, which made you worry tons. he’s been smoking much more and getting into fights more often as well as getting into trouble with the teachers, losing the points for your house, which… well, you didn’t care that much about it. what you cared for was theo’s wellbeing.

since it’s been a christmas break, you had gone home to spend time with your family, which meant your contant with theo was limited to a few letters that he was doing somewhat fine, yet you’ve been smart enough to know that spending christmas with his father and grandfather could never make him feel fine, not even a little bit. it was the breaking point in you that you’ve decided it’s the end of brushing you off.

“riddle, berkshire – out.” you barged into the dorm, glaring at your boyfriend’s dormmates, causing the first one to groan in annoyance.

“jesus, can’t be in your own room anymore.” mattheo rolled his eyes at you, yet he knew it was coming, so he dragged his ass up, patting theo’s back. “good luck with that one, nott.” he muttered before leaving the room with lorenzo, who just sent you a sympathetic smile.

theo, on the other hand, just glanced at you for a second, knitting his eyebrows together. “what do you want, l/n?” he asked, his nose still burried in between pages of a book you gave him for christmas.

“oh, last name basis, al–fucking–right.” you grumbled, grabbing the book away from his hands, your body trembling with fury. you hadn’t had a proper conversation in over two weeks, yet he couldn’t bring himself to be a decent man towards you. “what’s going on with you, nott?”

“get off my dick, y/n, really.” he rolled his eyes, expression matching the one his roommate had a few moments earlier. “i don’t have fucking time for this shit.” theo added, clearly agitated.

“well, you want it — you have it, i’m not getting on your dick anytime soon.” your voice was thick with emotion as the mention of celibacy earning you a look. “i know something’s going on. i know that, because i’m your girlfriend and i care about you. just trust–” you started, but the sentence wasn’t meant to be finished, because nott cut you off.

“then don’t. merlin, i don’t need a fucking babysitter, hoovering over my ass all the time. you’re not my bloody therapist, l/n. i don’t fucking need you to stick your nose into my business 24/7.” theodore stood up, his nose almost brushing yours before you took a step back, startled at the sudden outburst. “and sex? don’t amuse me, for merlin’s sake. i could leave the dorm right now and find someone to bone if i wanted to.” his tone was harsh, while his words were like knives thrown at you as a reward for being a caring girlfriend.

your boyfriend looked at his knuckles, his gaze focusing on the ring as he begun to take it off, making your pupils widen. “go. give it to someone who’s gonna be crazy enough to put up with your obsession about emotions. i’m not doing that anymore.” he muttered, pushing the ring into your palm.

“fine.” was the only thing that came to your mind after his words. your body continued to tremble and at this point, you couldn’t have been sure if it was your annoyance or broken heart that he just broke up with you. “just keep your promise and stay away from me. maybe join the death eaters too, for all i care, you’ll fit in perfectly.” with that, you left his dorm, slamming the door behind you as you fought with tears flowing down your cheeks.

“troubles in paradise?” mattheo grinned at you playfully, not noticing your tears-stained face as you were storming through the common room to the exit of the room.

“go fuck yourself, riddle.”

it wasn’t even five minutes later, when mattheo entered his shared dorm, his expression utterly confused as his mind was doing its best to connect the dots. “what’s with that gal of yours?” he asked theo, plopping down onto his bed, lightning up a cigarette right after.

“she’s not my gal anymore.” nott mumbled in response, almost untouched by the entire thing that just happened and that took his best friend by surprise.

“what do you mean she’s not your gal anymore?” he asked, his frown deepening. “lad, don’t tell me she broke up with you, you love this girl to death.” riddle added, scanning his friend’s face for any sign of uneasiness or a clue to understand all of it.

“i broke up with her.” theo replied with a shrug.

“merlin, man, why?” mattheo asked another question, this time being left without an answer as nott shut the curtains of his bed, putting on a silence spell.

IGNORING THEODORE ALL WEEK HAS BEEN EASY as you weren’t in the same year as him. you’ve been grovelling inside about the break-up, but from what your mother had always told you, when you were younger, you remembered that all the teenage boys were shitty and you couldn’t — by any means — let him know how much hurt you were. ignoring him was easy, all because, in your eyes, he didn’t even take any effort to show you remorse for what happened, from what you’ve known, he didn’t even look at you once.

the worst part of loving theodore nott was not being able to brush off all the concerns and worries that lived rent free in your mind, whenever you’ve noticed him walking through the hallways. nevertheless, he didn’t want you to care about him at all, so that was what you were planning on doing. kept your head high and your feet steady on the ground.

what you didn’t know, was that it wasn’t pride that made him keep his eyes away from you, but guilt. from the moment he woke up the day following your argument, his organism was flooded with guilt and shame to the point, where he couldn’t look at himself in the mirror.

he fucked everything up just like his father always told him that he would. he broke the promise he’d made to himself that he wouldn’t drive you away, wouldn’t hurt you like his father hurt his mom, yet he did. you were the only person in his world that made him feel like a normal human being, one, who could love and be loved, but he had to ruin it all, because his pride wouldn’t let him to open up to you.

it’s been already a week since the biggest mistake of his life, as he called it, and theo’s entire body hurt. he was popping pills with blaise like candies, because sobriety and consciousness made everything worse. he couldn’t stop thinking about you — about your expression, when he broke things off with you, the hurt in your eyes and the way you were holding yourself after that.

people, not close enough to you, might’ve been fooled by the facade you’ve built around you, though not theo. he’d known you for years prior to your relationship, he’d seen you both happy and miserable and now? now, you were beyond miserable. you might’ve kept your head high with the biggest smile on your face, but he’s known. he always would — whether you wanted him to or not.

quidditch practices were the worst, all because you were always there, yet never watching him. it wasn’t even up to you to be there and theo was certain of it. you were there, so your best friend wouldn’t have to sit through an entire practice alone, while she watched lorenzo with starstruck expression all the fucking time.

“lad, you have to apologise to her, sort it out.” enzo sighed, putting a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it reassuringly. “aoife’s worried about her. ‘m not really surprised, though, she started smoking weed on daily-basis again. aoif’s saying she can’t remember, when she saw her sober for the last time, but it’s better than bawling her eyes out over some asshole, aoif’s words, not mine.” having a friend, who was also somehow close to you and your best friend was a blessing in disguise. lorenzo kept him updated, not leaving out all the insults aoife lynch threw at him for breaking her best friend’s heart.

a loud sigh left theo’s lips as he leaned over the table, his forehead falling onto the wooden surface as he let out a groan. “i don’t even know what to do, enzo.”

“my suggestion? get your shit together.” mattheo chimed in, a playful grin on his face. “i mean it, theo. the gal of yours keeps showing up to my spot and i can’t deal with her tears anymore. get your shit together and fix it.”

“the problem is, matt, i don’t know how.”

the opportunity, although being totally… stupid, occurred at the end of another week during a game with hufflepuffs. theo’s entered another stage of grief and has been going around the school angry at everything. so, when the game came, he was playing rougher than usually, because he needed an outlet to the built-up anger.

of course, you’ve noticed. how couldn’t you? you’ve been keeping an eye on him for the entire two weeks. despite your promise to aoife, you couldn’t let it go. no matter who he was, your boyfriend, a friend, a stranger or an enemy, you couldn’t stop worrying about him and doing your best to look out for him. so… when he was forcefully pushed off his broom by diggory, you were running down the stairs before he even hit the ground. you needed to be beside him or it would kill you.

he was unconcious for almost two more days, making it a sixteen days without hearing his voice and you were going crazy, spending every single second, occupying the tabletop placed next to his bed. his hands in between yours as you kept it close to you. did he deeply pained you with his words? yes. would you let him be alone in the hospital wing? of course not.

“y/n/n.” he whispered suddenly, his voice breaking. “i’m so sorry.” nott let out and you weren’t sure if it was some kind of sleep talking or your delusions leading you on. “i’m so sorry, baby.” he repeated his words with a term of endearment, squeezing your hand weakly.

“theodore…” your words hitched in your throat as you moved the hair aside from his forehead. “don’t think about it now.” you whispered in a coy manner. “it doesn’t matter.”

“i can’t.” he coughed out. “i can’t stop thinking about it. about you. i’ve acted like a dick, but i didn’t mean it. you’re my world, baby, i’m so, so sorry. you were right all this time, i build up my emotions inside of me and let it get the best of me in the worst moment. i’m so sorry i hurt you, i swear i hate myself for—” he continued his rambling, slowly opening his eyes to have a look at you.

“hey, teddy, please, don’t think about it now.” you pleaded, still holding his hand. your thumb caressing his palm. “just rest, okay? please. we’ll talk about once you’re well-rested and out of here.” your voice was gentle.

he shifted in his hospital bed, hissing as his ribcage hurt immensely. “no, cara, please.” he muttered, bringing his lips to your palm. “listen, i can’t get over what i told you. i’m so fucking sorry, baby.” he whispered.

“teddy…” you started, but he cut you off.

“no. i’m sorry i said all those things to you, you didn’t deserve all the shit i gave you.” he let out a sigh, rubbing his forehead. “you need to hit me. for all the pain and suffering. oh god, and the tears. you should just kill me at this point.” theo muttered, and honestly? he did deserve the beating for what he’s done, but the three days of unconsciousness due being knocked off the broom, you could let it go. it could be his fate share of beating.

“just shut up, will you?” you sighed, planting a tender kiss on his lips. “we’re fine.”