#this is for the fic that is being written

[in-my-feels-probably]

Older Art spoiling his 20 something yo girlfriend that goes to Stanford. She looks up to him and listens to him and does whatever he says and basically lives for his praise.

I Feel So High School (Every Time I Look At You)

Request: Older Art spoiling his 20 something yo girlfriend that goes to Stanford. She looks up to him and listens to him and does whatever he says and basically lives for his praise.

and: art being 10ish years older than reader? that’s all i got. go crazy

Hi! Challengers has been on my mind literally since the day it came out, and I think I've read every single fic on here about it, so I figured I’d give it a shot writing one myself. First of all, I combined your requests, hope that’s ok. Second, this is my first time writing for Art, so please bear with me while I try and get the hang of writing his character. I haven’t written a fic in weeks, so my skills are definitely a little rusty. Please be kind! Anyways, I hope you like this. Let me know what you think, and thank you for the request :)

(Warnings: none? idk, maybe very vague mentions of sex, art is divorced, swearing, i guess the age gap taboo. let me know if i missed anything)

—

You should have known trying to explain your situation with Art to someone else would’ve been difficult, but finally telling your roommate everything was just as humiliating as you thought it would be. She always had a knack for nosing her way into your business, and not even you were immune to her federal level detective skills when it came to getting information out of someone. 

“And I’m seeing him today,” you finished your rant as you sucked in a breath, wincing as you waited for the bomb to drop.

But it didn’t. Your roommate just grinned, standing up and walking over to your closet. You watched with a confused look on your face until she turned to you, already elbow deep in your clothes.

“So…you have a sugar daddy?” your roommate asked, trying to stifle a laugh as she rifled through your closet to help you find an outfit. “No judgment, I’m honestly jealous.”

You picked a pillow up off your bed, launching it at her when she smirked as you flushed. “I don’t have a sugar daddy! I have a…well—ok, I don’t know what we are. But he’s not my sugar daddy.”

“No, he’s just an ex pro tennis player with a famous ex wife who was also a pro tennis player that he had a perfect little girl with, complete with a house in the Hamptons. Now, he’s…what, exactly? A coach? A commentator? Part of Stanford’s glorified alumni? No, I’ve got it! I know what he is — hot. In a beekeeping age, recently divorced, kind of way.”

You rolled your eyes, standing up to help her look through your closet. “He’s only in his thirties. You’re making him sound archaic and washed up.”

“Look at you, gushing over him,” she grinned as she finally landed on something for you to wear, quickly handing it to you. “At least he has good taste. You’re hot, too.”

Your roommate turned around while you quickly changed, sitting down at the foot of your bed. She talked over her shoulder as you got dressed, her voice full of curiosity.

“So, how did this all happen anyway?”

You sighed, shaking your head. “Remember alumni week with all the guest lectures and presentations a few months ago?”

“You met Art Donaldson during alumni week? What the fuck! Why didn’t you tell me? I wouldn’t have skipped all my classes that week if I thought I was gonna pick up a trophy husband instead of being forced to sit through a mind-numbingly boring presentation from some guy who used to go here that I’ve never heard of.”

“Sucks to suck, babe,” you grinned, finished getting dressed. “I’m good, you can turn around now.”

She quickly turned around, patting the spot on the bed next to her.

“How did this even happen? I’ve never seen you step foot on a tennis court in your life, and I know they wouldn’t have asked him to speak in a graduate lecture.”

You sat down next to her, nodding. “He did a seminar down at the courts for the kinesiology majors or something like that. They were learning about sports related injuries and how to treat them. He told them about how he hurt his shoulder a few years ago during a match, and he talked about all the physical therapy he had to do.”

“You’re telling me you sat through a kinesiology lecture? On a tennis court? When you don’t even study kinesiology?”

“Absolutely not,” you laughed, leaning back against the headboard. “He told me about it that first week while he was here.”

Your roommate giggled, grabbing your hand and squeezing it. “Oh my god! Okay, okay. Spill. Now. I want to know everything.”

You playfully rolled your eyes, but started ranting again anyway. 

—

In truth, you didn’t really know what your relationship with Art was. You’d met when returning alumni who’d gone on to excel in their fields came to campus for guest lectures and demonstrations.

In a total mortifying cliche, you ran into Art in a hallway while you were rushing to a lecture that had already started ten minutes earlier. You would have been on time, but your roommate accidentally locked herself out of your dorm, and the RA wasn’t answering their phone. She had an exam she needed to get to, which—in her own words—“trumps your boring book lecture.” You had no choice but to turn around and save her, making the trek back across campus to let her in. That’s how you ended up running face first into Art, your bag and all your things scattering across the floor. By some miracle, at least the halls were empty.

You quickly kneeled, scrambling to pick up all your things. “I’m so sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was going. I’m late for class.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said, kneeling to help you.

It was then when you looked up, and you felt your heart jump into your throat. Art Donaldson—famous alumni and world renowned tennis player—was crouched right in front of you, handing you half empty tubes of chapstick, a pair of headphones, and a stray pack of gum. Oh god, you thought to yourself. Why me? Why today? You quickly cleared your throat, standing up.

“God, sorry. Thanks…Mr. Donaldson.”

You cringed as you said it, the title of Mr. feeling off as it rolled off your tongue.

“Mr. Donaldson?” he raised a brow, shaking his head. “No, just call me Art. Uh, you know who I am? Am I actually still recognizable here? I figured no one off of the courts would have any idea who I was.”

You glanced down at his shirt, pointing. “You’re wearing a name tag.”

Art paled, raising a hand to awkwardly scratch at the back of his neck. Good one, he thought to himself. Very humble. He cringed to himself as his cheeks flushed, a small smile on his face.

“Right. I knew that.”

You smiled, pulling your bag back over your shoulder as you let out a little chuckle. “I know who you are. Stanford never lets us forget about their prized students.”

“Ah,” he nodded, grinning. “In my day, it was Reese Witherspoon and Jennifer Connelly. Although, Reese dropped out halfway through her degree, so they don’t talk about her much—”

“And Jennifer left Yale to come study here,” you finished. “That’s one they do still brag about.”

Art smiled, leaning back against the wall as he looked at you. You suddenly became very aware of your situation, tearing your eyes away from him to look down the hall where your class was. Art’s eyes followed, and he straightened up, clearing his throat.

“Am I keeping you?”

“No!” you said all too quickly, biting your tongue for a second before you forced yourself to calm down and continue. “Uh, my class already started. It’s not really important, he doesn’t count attendance anyway. And, to be honest, he’s pretty dull. He managed to make Jane Austen boring.”

“Not Bazin’s class, is it?” Art asked, making you raise a brow.

“Yeah, it is. How’d you know that?”

Art smiled, letting out a little laugh. “That’s why I came this way, I wanted to see if Professor Bazin still taught English here. He was a dinosaur even when I graduated. I’m surprised they still let him teach.”

“If they actually read the end of term course evaluations they make us fill out, they wouldn’t,” you mused, making Art grin wider.

“I guess I should let you go then,” Art shrugged, glancing down the hall. “Wouldn’t want you to miss out on something you could use in your scathing evaluation.”

You glanced back down the hallway at your classroom, but you couldn’t get your feet to move. You weren’t sure why, but you didn’t want to go just yet. 

All you did at Stanford was go to and from class and stay on top of your studies. It was monotonous and boring, and you were always up to your neck in papers and projects. Other than your roommate, you hardly had any people left you talked to or hung out with. They all graduated with their undergrad degrees, and you moved on to your graduate studies. Your education was important to you, but it got lonely. You almost never took risks anymore. But as you glanced back at him, that’s what you did.

You took the risk.

“Or…you could save me from my misery?” you stuttered out, an awkward smile on your face.

Art looked at you with an amused expression, tilting his head as he waited for you to continue. You swallowed, fiddling with the strap of your bag.

“My classes are almost all entirely in this building. I’m sure you’re sick of talking about tennis, but between here and my dorm, I don’t think I see enough sunlight in a day to keep me going. Maybe you could walk with me somewhere that actually sees the sun? Doesn’t have to be the courts or anything, although I can say with full confidence that I’ve never actually seen that part of campus and I’m in my graduate studies. Uh, maybe you’ve got somewhere in mind? Or you could let me buy you a cup of shitty cafeteria coffee? I promise I’ll refrain from asking you about your career. But, as I’m sure you can tell just by looking at me, I don’t really know enough about tennis to ask anyway.”

As you rambled on, horrified by your own rambling but determined to put yourself out there, Art smiled. 

He’d met a lot of girls over the years. Some girls who had a genuine interest in him but didn’t last, and some who saw his fame and fortune as a one way ticket to an easy life. 

None of them mattered. 

He had married Tashi, head over heels from the first moment he saw her. He had a kid with her, a career with her, a seemingly picture perfect life with her. It didn’t even occur to him to look at other girls until his marriage started to strain under the weight of his career, and he’d almost forgotten what it was like to look at a girl for the first time and feel that sickening but addictive feeling of butterflies fluttering around in his stomach. After the divorce, it felt so foreign to him that he didn’t even try. He had resigned himself to being a single father who co-parents and lives the rest of his life comfortably and quietly.

But here you were, rambling on with flushed cheeks and bright eyes trying your hardest to ask him out, and he couldn’t be more captivated.

There was just something about you. You were pretty, obviously. Anyone with eyes would’ve been able to see that. But there was something else, too. You were still young and not entirely pessimistic yet, with your whole career ahead of you. Probably no more than a few heartbreaks under your belt, able to muster up some sort of courage to fight for what you wanted. He used to have that, and he missed it — admired it, even. As you finally cut yourself off and looked up at him with mortification written across your face, Art saved you from further embarrassment with a smile. 

“Um…coffee sounds good,” he said with a shy smile. “Not from the cafeteria, though. If it’s as bad as it was when I went here, I’m not gonna let you waste your meal card money on it. There’s a cart outside of the athletics center, I stopped by it this morning. It’s still good.”

Trying your best to mask the shock you were feeling by his answer, you quickly nodded. “Oh, okay. Sounds good.”

You spent the entire afternoon with him. Coffee turned into lunch, and lunch turned into a long walk. Although you both had things to do, neither of you wanted to say goodbye and go on with your day. You skipped the rest of your classes for the day, letting Art show you around campus. He took you to all the places you had never been, and you kept quiet and let him show you anyway when you passed somewhere you had already been a hundred times. He was polite and asked you about your major and career goals, even managing a graceful smile when it was his turn to tell you about his career and how it unfolded after he graduated. He was careful to leave out the end, but he found himself comfortable enough to tell you about the first few years. You asked what you could, but you really didn’t know enough about the sport to ask much of anything.

“I’m boring you to death, aren’t I?” he asked when there was a lapse in silence after you passed a poster with his face on it for a Wimbledon campaign.

“No, not at all!” you replied, tilting your head up towards the poster. “I’m just wondering how you managed it.”

Art cocked a brow, turning towards you. “Managed what?”

“Not becoming a complete asshole,” you shrugged, making him burst out laughing. “I’m serious! You’re not the first celebrity to come here during alumni week. The difference between you and them is that you didn’t show up and immediately start bragging about how successful you had become. As far as I can tell, you’re the same as when you graduated. That seems pretty rare.”

“There’s not much to brag about,” he shrugged, too humble for his own good.

“A career Grand Slam isn’t worth bragging about?” you asked, turning away from him when he gave you a confused look. “Okay, fine, I may or may not have Googled you back in the restaurant while you were in the bathroom. I was running out of things to ask you, and I figured I should know something about tennis. Anyway, I was impressed.”

Art just chuckled. “I’m flattered.”

After walking a few more minutes, the street lamps turned on. It had gotten late enough in the evening that they were starting to light up around the darker parts of the campus. It was your cue to stop walking and look around, both of you realizing how long it had been since you started talking.

“I guess I should be headed back to my dorm,” you said, a hint of disappointment in your voice. “My roommate is probably freaking out by now. She knows I never really go anywhere after class without her—and yes, I heard how pathetic that sounded as it came out. She’s probably gonna call campus security if I don’t show up soon.”

Art nodded, knowing you were right. And yet, his feet didn’t move. Neither of you made any attempt to leave, still standing under the soft light of the street lamps. Art looked at you with soft eyes, absentmindedly reaching to fiddle with his wedding ring with his thumb before he remembered it wasn’t there anymore. Finally, he cleared his throat. 

“Well…I guess this is the part where I ask you for your number.”

“It was nice meeting you, too—” you started, doing a double take once his words registered. “Wait, what?”

Art let out a nervous laugh, shrugging. “You bought me a coffee, it’s only fair that I do the same. I’m here all week. Maybe you’d want to do this again sometime?”

“Uh, yeah! Yeah, that sounds good,” you replied, trying your best and failing to sound as nonchalant as you could.

Art smiled and pulled out his phone, opening his contacts. He handed it over to you, watching as you typed in your number before handing his phone back to him. You fought the heat pooling in your cheeks, fiddling with the strap of your bag. Art grinned, breaking the silence. 

“Go find your roommate. Tell her to call off the search party.”

You chuckled, nodding. “I’m on it. Well…bye, Art.”

“Bye, Y/N. I’ll text you,” he replied, enjoying watching you shuffle back and forth on your heels. 

He made you nervous. And for some reason, he liked that. He’d spent practically the last decade of his life perpetually nervous. It was nice to know someone else felt the same way. 

He watched you go as you turned around and headed back to your dorm, a distant but still familiar warmth in his chest. He’d only known you for a few hours, but he could already tell he liked you. By the time you made it back to your dorm and managed to come up with an excuse for your roommate who immediately interrogated you the second you stepped through the door, your phone was ringing. You excused yourself to the bathroom with a bashful grin on your face, answering the call.

—

You spent the better part of a week with Art when you both had time between your classes and his seminars. 

It felt surprisingly easy and normal talking to him. Your small talk about your careers and plans turned into more personal topics, and then you were talking about anything and everything. You were fully aware of the age gap between you two, but it didn’t bother you nearly as much as you thought it would. If anything, it was part of the draw to him. He was also kind and friendly, with a surprisingly self deprecating sense of humor that made you laugh. Not to mention the fact that he was drop dead gorgeous. You had to actively make sure he didn’t catch you staring at him when his head was turned. He made you want to actually giggle out loud, which is something you never thought you’d do over a guy.

By the end of the week when it was time for him to leave and go back to New York, you both were dreading saying goodbye. 

It was late in the evening, about an hour before he had to leave to catch his flight. He’d finally taken you to the courts, once again only lit by the street lamps overhead. It was the first time all week he’d stepped onto the court and actually wanted to be there, not surrounded by onlookers who knew every nook and cranny of his life and career. Instead it was you, the sweet pretty girl who made him genuinely laugh when you asked him why the points system would ever use the term love to describe a lacking score. 

He fiddled around for a while, teaching you a few serves and how to hold the racquet to hit the ball. Eventually he was on the other side of the net, watching you giggle and chase after the few balls he’d softly serve your way. He could hear you panting and the sound of your shoes skidding across the court, but your laughter was too sweet to make him stop. 

Finally, you stopped to take a break, sitting down on the bench. “Don’t look at me, I might cough up a lung.”

“Very impressive,” he smiled, passing you his water.

“Thank you,” you grinned, motioning between him in the court. “Go on, let’s see what you’ve got. I’m down for the count, but I’m sure the ball machine will be more than happy to fill in for me.”

Art smiled, watching you grin at him with flushed cheeks and glowy skin. If anyone else was asking, he wouldn’t have done it. He wasn’t interested in showing off his skills, or lack thereof to put it more accurately as of late — he’d stopped training as intensely after the divorce, no new tournaments waiting for him to come and win. But the look on your face when you asked was just one he couldn’t say no to. Plus, your knowledge of the sport wasn’t that vast. You probably wouldn’t notice if he slipped up anyway. And if you did, you’d be too kind to make him feel bad about it.

“If you insist,” he groaned, but he was still smiling to himself as he moved to the other side of the court.

You watched him play for a few more minutes. He really was something to see. Every movement he made was smooth and graceful, a far cry from the stumbling around and huffing and puffing you had been doing. Every ball hit its target, every serve lining up exactly where he wanted it to. As silly as it sounded, you actually had to prevent yourself from clapping once he finally slowed down and turned the machine off.

“Look at you go,” you smiled from the bench, handing him back his water as he walked back over.

His cheeks flushed pink, and he was silently praying you couldn’t see it from under the low lights. He was too busy getting all flustered to reply to you, and it made you smile. It was silent for a long moment as you stared at each other, before he finally stood up. You followed him, a sinking feeling in your gut as you realized that it was probably time to say goodbye.

It had been a week you had never even dreamed would’ve happened to you, and yet it did. The one risk you decided to take had led to the most fun you’d had in your entire time at Stanford. You didn’t want to see him go.

As you looked up at him with soft eyes and a melancholy look on your face, like you were looking to him for all the answers, Art felt a sharp tug in his chest. He found himself immediately wanting to fix it, wanting to make you smile again — smile because of him. He’d have done anything in that moment to get you to laugh again.

So, against his better judgment, he leaned in and kissed you. 

It was a spur of the moment decision, one he almost immediately regretted. But then he felt you sink into the kiss, your hands coming up to his waist to steady yourself. He cupped your cheeks and pulled you into him, unable to stop the smile spreading across his lips. 

And that was all it took — he was falling, and falling hard. 

—

That was months ago now, and yet, Art still found reasons to visit you. 

When there was lapses in tours, or it was Tashi’s week with Lily, he always somehow found himself ending up coming right back to you. He’d pick you up from your dorm, and you’d spend the entire day with him. On weekends, you ended up in whatever hotel he was staying at, telling your roommate you were going back home for a few days. When you weren’t together, you were constantly texting or calling. He even sent a postcard once when the ATP took him to Europe. It was cheesy, but you couldn’t wipe the smile off your face all day when you got it in the mail. 

You hadn’t exactly put a label on the relationship, but it was clear to the both of you that you meant more to each other than either of you cared to admit out loud. Quite a bit more, actually.

And Art wasn’t stupid — he knew what your relationship looked like. 

Recently divorced, a younger woman by his side. If they knew, the media would paint him as one of two options: an easily manipulated victim of a gold digger, or a washed up athlete who split with his wife that was now taking what he could get, the younger and prettier the better. 

But that wasn’t it at all for Art.

It wasn’t just sex, or a new pretty face. You were something different. A breath of fresh air. Someone who didn’t care about his career or money or fame. You had no interest in what he could offer you, or what you could get out of him. You never made him feel pressured to do anything or talk about anything he didn’t want to. He’d spent so many years craving a sense of normalcy and peace. Time and time again, he’d wanted to go to Tashi and beg for a break in his routine. But, always too afraid to disappoint her and everyone else watching him, he stayed quiet. He never got a break. As odd as it was to say, that’s what you were to him when he met you — a break. A minute to breathe, a moment to relax. He always felt that way around you.

Simply put, he was head over heels for you. He didn’t think he’d feel like that for another woman after Tashi until he met you, and it shocked him how easily the feeling came to him.

And it wasn’t just him that had fallen. 

You practically hung on every word he said, and soaked up every ounce of praise he gave you. You had never been with someone like him before. Someone so experienced and sure of himself, but just as gentle and patient as he was sure. He made you laugh and smile, and he made you feel safe. For whatever reason he had taken interest in you, you didn’t care, you just didn’t want it to stop. You clung to it, enjoying it while it lasted.

And if either of you had anything to say about it, it would last.

—

By the time you finished explaining your relationship with Art to your roommate, she was already pushing you out the door. 

“Go, go, go,” she squealed, tossing you your keys. “Wait!”

She wrapped her hand around your wrist, stopping you in your tracks as she glanced down at the outfit she chose. “Is that a new dress? Did he buy you a dress? Oh my god, please tell me he has a brother.”

“Not sure,” you grinned, smoothing your hand down your front. “Show up to alumni week next time and find out.”

You were already pressing a kiss to her cheek and rushing down the hall before she could get out another word, giggling as you made your way to the stairs.

On the drive over to the hotel, the nerves in your stomach were making you nervously tap your fingers on the steering wheel. You must’ve got caught by every stop light, making the trip even longer. You were practically vibrating once you finally pulled into the parking lot, grabbing your bag and hurrying inside before your nerves got the better of you and made you stand like an idiot in the lobby, trying to muster up the courage to get in the elevator. You coasted on autopilot as you forced your feet to lead you upstairs to his floor, all the way down to his door. You only came back into your body when you raised a hand to knock on the door, pausing to take a deep breath.

Just knock, you thought to yourself. You’re a big girl. Just knock.

You had barely even knocked twice on the door before the door swung open, and you came face to face with Art. Your breath hitched in your throat, and you took a second to take him in. Still as pretty as you remembered, and every bit as alluring. You could feel yourself melting. 

The feeling was mutual. 

Art let out a sigh of relief, like it was the first good breath he had taken in weeks. A genuine smile crept onto his face as he reached for you, practically making grabby hands like a child. 

“Come here, pretty girl.”

You tried and failed to stifle a giggle, immediately burying yourself in his chest. You let out a hmph as you pressed your cheek against him, your arms wrapping tightly around his waist. You could feel his thumb running along the bare skin of your arm, his lips pressing a kiss to the top of your head. He nudged the door closed with his foot, tugging your bag from your shoulder and setting it on the floor without even letting you go. He was warm to the touch, and steady against you. He hummed into your hair, squeezing you tighter.

“There she is,” he murmured, letting out a small laugh. “My girl.”

“Hi, baby,” you giggled, the sound making his heart soar in his chest. 

He slowly walked you backwards to the bed, supporting most of your weight as you laid down. He was quick to follow, burying his face into the crook of your shoulder. His arms hooked lazily around your waist, his weight pressing you into the mattress.

This is what you both had been waiting for. This feeling, this moment. Just this.

“You look very pretty today,” he whispered into your skin, pressing a kiss where his lips rested. “All this for me?”

The humor in his voice made you grin, your fingers running through his hair. “Couldn’t let you be that pretty all by yourself.”

Art smiled, pressing his face further into your neck as he let out a breath. You tightened your grip around him, holding him close. You let your eyes close, resting your cheek against the top of his head. 

A comfortable silence fell over the both of you, as easy as it ever was.

—

A/N - Hi! So sorry this took so long to get out, thank you for your patience. I keep rereading this and editing it over and over, I’m not totally happy with it. But something is better than nothing, and I’m tired of staring at, so here you go! Hope this is ok, let me know what you think :)

#challengers x reader #challengers #art donaldson #art donaldson x reader #art donaldson imagine #taylor swift #so high school #ttpd #the tortured poets department #the anthology

[pinkyqil]

Baby it raining outside // lia wälti x r

Masterlist

A/n: hope y'all enjoy the fic feel free to send in requests or your opinions about the fics have written so far, obviously the way leah is described in the fic doesn't mean she acts like this in rl hope you enjoyed reading.

One thing you and lia could agree on was that you both hated the rainy days. the sound and smell of it especially how the humidity changes whenever it rains.

so today both of you decide to spend it indoors seeing you both didn't have anything scheduled even.

though you don't enjoy rainy days. it was the best days to wacht movies and snuggle up and drink some hot coco. seeing that was today's plans.

As you where finishing up setting things down lia came into the room looking like she's seen a ghost.

"What's up with you wälti". you asked her with a teasing tone.

"Nothing babe".she said not making eye contact while fidgeting with her hands.

"Do you really expect me to belive that so last time what's going on".

"Please don't be mad I might have agreed for leah to join us tonight".

"And why might that be". you asked with your hands going through your hair. it wasn't that you hated leah. it's just that it was quite obvious that she liked lia and would always try to intervene with you and lia's relationship which you hated.

You could stand her little crush cause lia was yours not hers. but her butting in on your dates together was starting to get you.

"She called me asking if I had any plans saying she was lonely and I just offered for her to join us".

"Can't she make her own plans and why would you invite her". You we're all irritated at the thought of leah interrupting yet another moment between you and your girlfriend.

"I'm sorry baby i promise to make it up too you" she said looking sorry.

"Whatever when is she coming?". You asked

"She should be he-".interrupted by the sound of the door bell ringing.

"Looks like she's here already".

"I'll get the door". lia told you

"Make sure she takes of her shoes and dries herself off I don't need spect of rain around our home". You told her

"Don't worry I will". She said before going to open the door.

Hearing there footsteps as the headed down to the living room you could hear leah giggling about something. Sometimes you felt wiping whatever smile was on her face whenever she was around lia.

The movie went well expect when Leah tried getting closer to lia and kept complaining about the movie best part of your day was when she left you could finally have your girlfriend to yourself instead of williamson being all over her.

"I'm sorry for how she was acting tonight".lia said trying to apologize.

"Obviously I'm not okay with her being here today but next time give me a heads up whenever she calls especially if on our date night". you told her

"So do you forgive me?".

"Of course I do could never be at you for that long". you told her as you pulled her in for a deep kiss.

#lia wälti #lia wälti imagine #lia walti x reader #lia wälti x reader #arsenal wfc x reader #arsenal imagine #arsenal x reader #arsenal wfc #arsenal wfc x imagine #awfc x imagine #awfc x reader #awfc imagine #awfc #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso imagines #woso blurbs #woso fluff #woso fic #woso series #woso #woso community #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson fanfic #leah williamson x lia wälti #woso fanfic #woso drama #arsenal women #arsenal

[wonkixo]

GOOD GIRLS — y. jungwon

pairing badboy!yjw x goodgirl!fmr genre situationship to lovers (?) synopsis jungwon is your getaway from your highly adorned status as your parents' perfect little girl. warnings suggestive, v rushed angst, fluff (kind of), mentions of sex (although there is no actual smut), mentions of alcohol/drinking, grownup adults being strict/have high expectations?, not proofread :p

AUTHOR'S NOTE one of my favorite tropes ever tbh except i did nawttt do it justice :// i kinda wrote this sporadically as i just wanted to try out a written fic lol. i promise my next written work will be better 🫡 ofc inspired by good girls by 5sos :3 (listened to that banger at least 10x while writing this) likes n reblogs would be greatly appreciateddd <3

"We apologize YN could not make it to tonight's dinner. She informed us late last night that she was unable to make it due to a prior commitment with her tutoring job."

Your parents were ecstatic to be speaking so highly of you to your father's coworkers. Tonight's dinner was intended to honor your father's promotion at his work, but all your parents could speak about was you.

As their only daughter (actually, their only child for that matter), you were their pride and joy. The end of your senior year of high school was approaching, and you were set to attend your top university on a full ride scholarship. Your parents could not have been any more proud of you.

"That's no problem whatsoever. It's lovely to hear how dedicated your daughter is to her studies. It's quite a shame to admit that such children like yours are rare nowadays." Your father's boss chimes in, smiling softly at the two parents.

Little did they know that the little girl they were speaking so highly of, was off somewhere in the backseat of a certain somebody's car.

Your parents left you home alone, anticipating that you would drive yourself to your tutoring session moments after they left. However, there you were in the backseat of Jungwon's car, who had picked you up and drove to an empty parking lot by a nearby beach.

You sat prettily atop his lap, quietly kissing at his Adam's apple while his one of his arms circled your waist with his other hand holding a soju bottle. "You know I love you, right?"

You pulled away from Jungwon, staring at him with adoration after his statement. "Of course I do, and I love you more." Jungwon responds with a small smile, showing off his dimples, before taking a quick swig of his soju.

With the way Jungwon was acting tonight in comparison to other nights, as he was acting less feverish and more so solemn, you knew something was up. "You look like you have a lot going through your mind, pretty boy. What's wrong, Won?"

He slid the soju bottle into the side compartment before resting both his hands on your waist. "Don't forget about me when we graduate."

You tilted your head in confusion. "Why would I ever?" But you knew more than anyone why, especially now, he would be doubting your relationship... if you could even call it that.

For one, there was no clear label between you two. You were not boyfriend and girlfriend. Heck, students around you at school do not even associate you together.

You two ran in different crowds — Jungwon was apart of the popular kids; constantly getting into trouble at school (and occasionally with the law), while you were considered a student of poise and leadership with your top grades and excellent extracurriculars.

The only reason why you two even got to know each other in the first place was truly because of fate.

You two had been assigned as chemistry laboratory partners your junior year. Although your dynamic started off sour at first for obvious reasons, having spent more and more time together brought you two closer.

Restroom breaks during class became steamy makeout sessions in the janitor's closet. After school study sessions turned into having sex in the backseat of his car or in his bedroom.

All that aside, you knew Jungwon was doubting your relationship now because your time together was coming to a close. With graduations came goodbyes, but neither of you wanted to think about leaving each other just yet.

But Jungwon knew you had a bright future ahead of you and he did not want to get in the way of that. "YN, we're graduating soon. You're going to be so successful. You don't need me anymore."

You shook your head in disagreement, placing your forehead against his while you cupped his face in your hands. "Respectfully Jungwon, shut the fuck up."

Your blunt honesty brought upon a slight chuckle from Jungwon and you smile to yourself for lifting up the mood at least a tiny bit. "Jungwon, I couldn't care less as to how my future plays out. All I care about is that you are apart of it. You are my present and you are my future."

Jungwon heard the pure sincerity in your voice and his heart could not help but flutter. "Let's just enjoy each other right now, in this moment. Okay? We'll figure out all our shit later. We'll figure it all out together, Won. I love you."

"I love you so much, YN." In response, you kiss both of Jungwon's cheeks, then his lips, then you reattach your lips to his neck. You suck at his skin harshly, bringing out a moan from the boy under you.

"You're such a vixen, pretty."

"Hmm, you think so?" You pull away from him, admiring the mark you left as the moonlight hit against you two perfectly.

Jungwon turned his head to you and kissed your lips, giving you a taste of the soju's green grape flavor. "You're my vixen though." He mutters against your lips, before pulling you in once more.

The kiss quickly became hot and needy, with the way one of Jungwon's arms wrapped tighter around your waist while the other reached up to your neck, where his hand applied the slightest amount of pressure.

You responded to the gesture with a light moan against his lips and your hips began to move against his. "I want you so bad." You mutter against lips as your hips moved faster against him, indicating your desire.

Jungwon pulled away from your lips and began to trail kisses against your jaw. His hands moved underneath your shirt and as his hands began to play with the clasp, your phone loudly dinged. You groaned as you pulled away from Jungwon and took your phone out your pocket.

Mom <3: Hey sweetie! Sorry to bother.. Are you still tutoring? Wanted to let you know Dad and I will be home soon.. Love you ❤️

"That was your parents, wasn't it?" You nod as you returned the phone to your back pocket. Jungwon's hands returned to your waist and began to fiddle with your belt loops.

"Let's get you home, pretty. We can't let your parents find out just how bad my good girl is." Jungwon looked at you with starry eyes, which were quickly taken aback as you suddenly grabbed his hands on your waist and placed them above his head. "How about no?"

You felt Jungwon shuffle underneath you, clearly turned on by your assertion of dominance. "Good girls are bad girls that just haven't been caught anyway." You gently whispered into Jungwon's ear before your lips reattached to his and your hands made its way to the button of his jeans.

#wonkixo #wonkixo enhypen #jungwon imagines #enhypen imagines #yang jungwon imagines #enhypen fluff #enhypen angst #jungwon fluff #jungwon angst #yang jungwon fluff #yang jungwon angst #enhypen x reader #enha x reader #enha imagines #jungwon x reader #yang jungwon x reader #kpop #kpop fluff #kpop angst #enhypen au #jungwon enhypen #enha fluff #jungwon #enha angst #enhablr

[gloomwitchwrites]

Would love to see something on possesive/protective Alex Keller if you're up for the challenge! Otherwise let's go Soap! 😍

While I know Alex Keller from the game, I’ve never written for him, but I have written for Soap (a lot!) so I’ll be talking about Soap’s possessive/protective behavior.

Most of these headcanons are with gn!reader with one or two exceptions. Enjoy!

Content & Warnings (MDNI): possessive/protective behavior (obvi), suggestive themes, one brief NSFW headcanon at the end

Word Count: 536

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // 1k follower event masterlist

Of all the 141, he’s not really one to hide his emotions or be silent about something that he doesn’t agree with. He’s fairly upfront, but in private, I can see Johnny being more protective/possessive with his significant other.

In public he might put an arm around his partner to show that they belong to him, but behind closed doors, Johnny is marking them. Loves bites are his specialty, and he always puts them in spots where no one will see them but him and his partner.

Johnny prefers it when you wear his clothes because it leaves his smell behind on your skin. It’s just another way for him to mark you, and while you might notice, Johnny does, which means others do.

While out shopping, running errands, etc., Johnny likes to act as a buffer. While he’s good about giving you plenty of space, he is also good about picking up on when others might get to close to you. Johnny is really spot on about making sure others respect your bubble. They can get in his, but not yours.

When it comes to social gatherings, events, and parties, Johnny is the life of the party, and he knows that you’re there to have fun too. While he will genuinely leave you alone to spend time with others, he is always keeping a close eye. If someone is being overly friendly, Johnny will step in but he’ll always be polite the first time. Second time? Not so much.

Sometimes Johnny can’t help himself when the two of you are out. If the two of you are at a party, he might insist that you sit in his lap.

Johnny’s protective/possessive instincts skyrocket if you’re pregnant. While he’d usually never outright act on these tendencies in public, he’s more likely to do so when you’re carrying his child.

Johnny would absolutely lean down to inhale your scent when its been too long.

Maybe it’s the stresses of his work, but sometimes Johnny can’t help but see danger everywhere. He doesn’t always fall into this headspace—and it can often be difficult for him to get out of it—but it certainly activates those instincts. He’s more likely to stand close to you, to give the people around the two of you the “stink eye” if he thinks they’re far too close (they usually aren’t).

Touching you in public is a show of possession. This could be something small like an arm across your shoulders but could also be his hand planted on your butt.

PDA is another way Johnny shows possession. He might hug and kiss you openly in front of others, and if he’s feeling really bold (especially after a few drinks) he might even smack your ass.

In public together, Johnny keeps tabs on you, making sure you’re always in his line of sight. Otherwise, if you’re going out somewhere, he’ll keep a close eye on his phone’s “find my” feature, making sure you’re safe and where you should be.

For a more NSFW headcanon: Johnny loves nothing more than finishing inside you, knowing that you’ll only do that for him. Might even pull your hair and call you “mine” during the act.

taglist:

@km-ffluv @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @spicyspicyliving @miaraei

@coffeecaketornado @aykxz98 @kayden666 @unhinged-reader-36 @miss-mistinguett

@keiva1000 @cherryofdeath @sapphichotmess @enfppuff @berarenado

@saoirse06 @haven-1307 @ninman82 @no-oneelsebutnsu @thewulf

@lxblm @ferns-fics @ooldcardigan @beebeechaos @enarien

@sw33tsnow @kessi-21 @makayla-666 @lifes-project @burn1ngw00d

@heeheehoohoohahahihi @lulurubberduckie @ravenpoe67 @contractedcriteria @lovely-ateez

@gingergirl06 @kidd3ath @leed-bbg @blackhawkfanatic @suhmie

@tulipsun-flower @ghosts-hoe @jaggersinclair @nomercyforthewarrior @dakotakazansky

@talooolaaloolla @hantheconqueror @littlemisscriesherselftosleep @umno-yeah

#soap call of duty #soap mw2 #soap mactavish #soap cod #john soap mactavish #soap mactavish fanfic #soap headcanons #soap x reader #soap x you #johnny soap mactavish #john soap mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish x you #john soap mactavish fanfic #john soap mactavish imagine #john soap mactavish fanfiction #johnny mactavish #soap fanfiction #soap fanfic #john mactavish fic #john mactavish x reader #john mactavish fanfiction #john mactavish smut #john mactavish imagine #john soap mctavish x reader #john soap x reader #john soap mctavish x you #john soap mctavish smut #cod fanfiction #cod headcanons #cod soap

[half-oz-eddie]

I’m up early thinking about how fast people went from being cool about Tommy (and Lou) and the first kiss to absolutely hating him and wanting him dead.

At first, seeing the kiss brought everyone together, but also not really. Everyone was excited about the kiss, how it was executed and the fact that Buck was bisexual, but the thing is, many people were excited for completely different reasons.

Some people were excited because they thought Buck was written as bisexual for them. For their ship. To fit into their headcanons.

So at first, they were willing to ride the wave of Buck and Tommy, thinking he was only gonna be around for 4 episodes. They read Lou’s interviews, thought it was great that he improvised the chin grab, and he received a great deal of approval for how gentle he was with Buck. It wasn’t just bucktommy shippers that wanted to interact with Lou on twitter at one point in time.

Then, people started showing interest in Buck and Tommy as a ship and not a stepping stone and bucktommy shippers were being side-eyed like “hey haha wtf are you doing, this is temporary.” There was a lot of disappointment and resentment because people were “closing” on one ship to enjoy a very real and canon ship, and then the ship itself grew to 1,000 fics in a very short period of time and again, people were like “hey haha wtf, can you literally fucking stop? you’re being weird over a 4 episode fling.” and then people were showing Lou a lot of love, booking his Cameos and constantly praising bucktommy as a couple. And once more, people were like “yo, what the FUCK, you’re gonna make them last longer STOP TALKING ABOUT IT.”

So then the heavier resentment began and there was a very nasty shift. It was “bucktommy bones xx episode trust” every week until it wasn’t, and people became angrier and angrier about it.

Some people already didn’t like Tommy, but they were willing to speak on it either privately or not very aggressively until, well, Tommy received a lot of support and was *checks notes* around for too fucking long. And then hundreds of people started being so aggressive about it that some people felt forced to pick a side for sanity.

People were showing interest in Tommy in a way that was upsetting to people because it made him too significant. Like, when people asked for a Tommy begins episode and fatphobic jokes were made in response.

Shippers have been single-handedly blamed for Tommy being around beyond the 4 episodes. A lot of people thought he would simply disappear and Buck would move on to the relationship people believed he was made bisexual for.

I watched this happen and things became more and more uncomfortable with every week that passed until it was insufferable and I deactivated my old twt account and recently made a new one and blocked a bunch of people.

#bucktommy #fandom wank #tommy kinard #fatphobia mention

[bobafetts-princess]

Surprise: The Sequel

Pairings: Ghost x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2800

Warnings: PiV, we wrap shit up in this one, a little butt stuff, spit kink, biting, cursing, choking. Reader is a little subby here. This is a fic centered on the reader ovulating and being really horny. Heed warnings accordingly.

Author notes: Yes, this was written when I personally was ovulating and I needed an outlet. Please enjoy 😊

Companion piece to Surprise

“My back fucking hurts,” you grumble to yourself, not really meaning for anyone to hear. But Soap, with his fucking bat ears, does.

“Wan’ me to massage it for yah?” He drawls in his thick Scottish accent. He’s been eying you all day and you can’t figure out why. You’re not dressed any different, you didn’t do your hair any different. You didn’t flirt with him, at least anymore than normal. Soap is the type of guy you can flirt with without realizing it. He’s soft and easy-going with a big personality and the ability to make anyone feel special.

“Mind your business, Soap,” snaps Simon-Ghost-Lieutenant (you’re not really sure what to call him anymore) as he comes in the door. You’re sitting at a desk, writing reports on your latest mission and Soap is at his desk on the left of yours, writing his own.

“Aye L.T. But I do feel like her business is my business,” he chuckles and Ghost flicks him a look as he gets up.

“Why’s your back hurt, Blue?” Ghost asks, hand gripping the back of your chair.

“Not sure, L.T.,” you say but then a cramp hits your lower belly. It’s not your period, definitely not your period, that was two weeks ago. So this means- “Damnit,” you curse under your breath.

“What’s wrong?” Both men ask at the same time, Soap moving to stand by Ghost. Another cramp hits your stomach and you have to stifle a groan.

“Nothing important,” you tell them both but they don’t believe you. But Price walks in, looking for an update on the reports and the subject is dropped. He’s standing over your shoulder and you don’t miss the way he keeps looking down at you, the easy way he smiles at you.

“Looking good today, Blue. Did you do something different with your hair?” Price mentions and you know he doesn’t mean it to be creepy. He’s genuinely trying to be nice and give you a compliment, you don’t get many when your literal job is to commit crimes for the sake of queen and country. But you know the real reason he’s looking at you different.

Your ovulation cycle hits harder than your menstruation cycle, the older you get. Your cramps are worse and men tend to notice you more. They flirt with you easier, they check you out with more purpose. Your skin clears and has this tone to that makes you look perpetually flustered. It’s all very flattering but also, quite annoying. Biology is doing its work, but you don’t want it to. The thing that drives you most insane is that you preen under the attention. You like being noticed when you’re ovulating. You like the way Ghosts eyes are dragging across your hips. You like the easy smile Johnny gives you when he’s flirting. You like the way Price’s eyes struggle to stay in their rightful place.

“Nah, just brushed it this morning, that’s all Captain,” there’s a flash of something in his eyes when you call him by his rank but you can’t unpack it right now. You stand, surprising Price and mumble “I’ll be back,” before you bolt.

Ghost waits an appropriate amount of time before he follows, shoving back his chair with some lame excuse so he can follow you.

He finds you in seconds, heading down the hallway in the general direction of his quarters. As a lieutenant, he gets his own space and as he watches your hips sway he’s thankful for it.

“Blue,” he calls out and you still.

“Not now, Ghost,” you say but you don’t move. His long strides catch up to you in no time and his hand presses into your back.

“What’s the matter?” He asks, and you sigh.

“I’m ovulating,” you tell him, pressing into his hand and relishing the feel of his warmth.

“What’s that mean?” He knows that’s your fertile period and you can get pregnant but he’s not sure on the specifics.

“I’m so horny,” you whine, twisting your neck to look up at him and he wants to dip down and run his nose alone the soft skin there. It takes your words a second to click but when they do, he’s shoving you down the hallway and into his room, locking the door behind him.

———————————

Ghost has you on your knees and you’re taking him. Your pussy is slick with your orgasms and your back is slick with sweat. You’re dropped down to your chest on the bed, fingers gripping the sheets as you cry out. It’s not helping though, because every one of Simon’s powerful thrusts pushes you up the bed.

“This fuckin’ pussy,” he snarls from under his mask. Since that day in the shower you’ve had this tryst going on regularly and it’s been satisfying for the both of you. “Fuck, you take me so well,” he grunts as his hand presses into your shoulders to hold you down. “Love when you submit to me,” he says but you think you can take it a step further. You move your hands from the sheets to behind your back, gripping your forearms as your face presses into the bed. Simon groans deeply as he slides his hand down your back to press down on your forearms. “Look so pretty takin’ my cock like this, Blue,” he snarls and you know he’s getting close. You’ve already cum several times, so you’re not concerned about finishing when he does, but Simon is. His hips ratchet up a notch and you hear the distinctive sound of something in Simon’s mouth. You’re about to peek over your shoulder to see what he’s doing when his thick thumb presses up against your asshole. You gasp and still underneath him as he presses circles into the tight ring.

“I’d love to watch you take me here,” he grunts before he pushes his thumb in. Your whole body tenses but you’re pinned. His hands are still pressing your own into your lower back and his finger in your ass is up to the first knuckle. You’re going to lose your mind, you can’t even scream because your face is pressed into the mattress. He continues pressing until he’s got his whole thumb in your ass and you’re gone. You’re so full, so thoroughly worked over that you when Ghost-Simon-whatever you’re calling each other these days, picks up his thrusts you’re blind with pleasure.

He’s putting you through the mattress, his hulking body pressing yours down. You break first, your body clamping down as you cum. He’s so heavy, so thick, and you’re so overwhelmed but Ghost isn’t done yet. He’s growling deep in his throat, snarling something about what a good little slut you are for him and you know he’s right at the edge of breaking. You feel something sharp against your shoulder and it takes you a few seconds to realize he sank his teeth into the soft flesh. He’d apparently never pulled his mask down after he’d wet his thumb and you feel his tongue soothe the sharp sting his bite left. You lay like that for a second, Ghost’s body laying across yours as you both pant with the exertion. Simon’s tongue licks a hot trail across your shoulder and up your neck, stopping at your ear.

“You’re a good fuck, Blue. Y’know that?” You laugh aloud because any kind of compliment coming from Simon Riley is noteworthy.

“Thanks, you’re not so bad yourself,” you flash a grin at him as he peels off of you, moving to dispose the condom. He comes back and his mask is still pushed up to his nose and his grin would’ve knocked you over if you weren’t already laying down.

“Not so bad, eh? Do I need to split you apart on my cock again so you know how good I can be?” He chuckles, dark and dangerous as he crawls on the bed and stares down at you. His huge hand finds your throat, squeezing and reminding you just how dangerous he can be. But the only thing you feel right now is another how streak of lust through your nerve endings. Your nipples are tight and when he flicks them, a sharp gasp escapes your mouth. Ghost takes the opportunity at hand and pulls you up to him by the throat, shoving his tongue in your mouth. It’s not the first time you’ve kissed but it’s one of the only. You can feel him hardening against your thigh and you can feel how slick you are. His fingers squeeze as he trails his lips down your neck, over where his thumb is digging into the soft flesh.

You’re aching, ready to be filled again, when Ghost speaks in your ear.

“I want to taste you, Blue,” he grunts but you shake your head as best you can with his hand wrapped around your throat.

“Later. Want your cock,” you tell him and he nods, releasing you to get another condom. You desperately want to tell him not to use one, but you are smack in the middle of ovulating and the risk of pregnancy is much higher than if you weren’t. You’re not in a place where you can have a baby and you don’t think Simon is ready to be a father, he may not ever be. But god, the idea of dripping with his cum all day? It’s got you clenching between your legs.

Simon has the condom on, cock swinging between his thick thighs. He’d only managed to get his pants down to his knees the first time and the second time won’t be any different. He’s got a long sleeve shirt on bearing the British Army flag on it and even without all his tac gear he’s huge. Tall and bulky, with a menacing edge to him, you can see why people are terrified. But right now, all you are is horny. He slides between your thighs, lifting your hips and placing a pillow underneath them.

“Gonna take me?” He asks, circling a finger over your clit. You nod but he’s not content with that. “I asked you if you were going to take me, I expect an answer,” he growls from under his mask, pulled back down now.

“Yes, Lieutenant,” you breathe as he presses the head of his cock into you.

“Yes, Lieutenant, what?” He snaps, one hand on your tit, the other on the base of his cock.

“Yes, Lieutenant,-“ you gasp as he pushes into you.

“Go on,” he prompts, almost all the way in now. “Or I won’t fuck you. You can lay here and be my pretty little cock sleeve,” you clench around him, wishing he’d wrap one of those big hands around your throat again.

“Yes, Lieutenant, I’m gonna take all of your cock. Please, I want to take all of your cock.”

“Good girl,” he growls, low in your ear as his hand wraps back around your throat. His thrusts start slow but it doesn’t take long before he’s hitching one thigh up his back, the other pressing you down and pushing you to your limits. He’s more vocal this time, grunts and growls as he sits back on his heels to give himself more leverage. He’s got to be sensitive, it’s the second time in less than 30 minutes, and it shows. His fingers tighten every couple thrusts until you nearly can’t breathe but you know he wouldn’t hurt you. The other hand finds your tits, groping them and pulling at your nipples. He presses the thumb of the hand around your neck into your jaw until your mouth pops open. He pulls the mask above his mouth, leaning down, his eyes wide with question and you nod at him, sticking your tongue out in invitation. He gathers in his mouth before he leans down, spitting directly into your mouth before he closes your jaw and speaks.

“Swallow it.” You do as he asks, opening your mouth again and sticking out your tongue to show him. He groans deeply, gathering his spit again and spitting on your tongue. This time though, he keeps his thumb pressed into the hinge of your jaw so you don’t close it. “That’s my fuckin’ girl,” he snarls, his accent thicker as he pounds into you, “take everythin’ I fuckin’ give ya, don’t ya?” You nod desperately at him, mouth still open, tongue still covered in his spit. “Fuck yeah, ya do. I’m goin’ to cum, I know you’re close.” You nod at him again, pussy tightening as he spits into your mouth again, closing your jaw and telling you to swallow.

“Next time you’re gonna swallow my cum jus’ like that,” he tells you before he leans back, pressing a thumb against your clit. It only takes one, two, three swipes of his thumb before you’re over the edge, crying out his name and clinging to the hand still wrapped around your throat. He follows right along with you, slumping his heavy body against yours. “This will never get old,” he says as he rolls to the side slightly, still laying on you but not quite with his full weight.

“Yeah,” you agree, out of breath and worn down. Finally sated.

“Is it always like this when you ovulate?” He asks, picking himself up and disposing of the condom, for the second time. You nod as he comes back and picks up your underwear off the floor.

“It gets worse as I get older, like evolution is telling me to get a move on.” You stand as Simon holds your hand and helps you into your panties. “My cramps get worse and I get almost unbearably horny,” you tell him as he hunts down your tac pants and helps you into those too. He chuckles as he finds your sports bra, slipping it over your head.

“Maybe you should pop out a kid or two,” and your jaw drops.

“Yeah, sure! I’ll drop my whole life and have babies! Ruin my career, my tits, everything I’ve worked for just to give evolution the middle finger!” You exclaim, annoyed he’d even suggest it. But he’s fully laughing, searching for your shirt under the bed.

“I’s a joke, love. You don’t take those as well as you take my cock,” he husks, finding the army green tank and slipping it over your head. “Besides, it would be a shame to ruin these perfect tits,” he tells you, standing behind you and cupping said perfect tits. Fuck, you didn’t think you could go again but the way his thumbs are brushing over your nipples right now is making you question that. “Well, we better get back to writin’ our reports. Price’ll wonder why we’ve been gone so long,” he says, slapping you on the ass and striding out the door. You’re left panting and annoyed, but you follow after a reasonable amount of time and when you make it back to your desk, Soap is standing next to it looking like the cat that ate the canary.

“Aye, lass. Y’look good today. Exceptional even,” he drawls, and if you weren’t rolling your eyes you’d have noticed his own flick over to Ghost to gauge his reaction.

“Get off my desk, Johnny.”

“Will do, but would ya like t’have a drink with me tonight?” He’s leaned down, in your space, his bright eyes full of mischief.

“No.” You tell him, you’re not really annoyed with him but you are frustrated because Ghost left you horny and every bit as distracted as you were before he fucked you stupid. Your hand flashes out and connects with the inside of Soaps elbow, knocking him off his balance. Ghost chuckles from behind you at his own desk.

“Might wanna leave the girl alone, Johnny. I think she could kick your ass,”

“Ooh I might like that,” Johnny says, not fazed at all that you hit him. Ghost has to suppress a groan at the idea of watching you and Johnny wrestling for dominance. He’s pretty sure you would win and the idea of you fucking Johnny stupid the way he fucks you stupid has him hardening in his pants.

“Johnny,” you start, your voice all sugar sweet and sticky. “Can you do something for me?” Your tone is full of promise and Johnny’s eyes droop as he mutters a gentle ‘of course, lass’

“Go get me some Tylenol and coffee, Johnny,” you say, smacking him upside the head. Simon barks a laugh from behind you, and Johnny looks graciously indignant.

“Aye, lass. Whatever you want,” he’s no actually offended, but he played the part well. Off he slinks, to retrieve the items you’ve asked for and Ghost feels a rush of relief that he’s not the only person in this compound that cares for you.

#simon riley #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost x reader #ghost x you #ghost smut #simon riley smut #cod smut #call of duty smut

[olderthannetfic]

Signed up for a charity prompt fest and got told I wasn't allowed to fill a prompt because it squicked out the organisers. Took nearly an hour of discussion before they said "fine, you can write the original prompt".

Like... As organiser you're not here to judge either the prompter or the person filling it,your job is to connect these people together. This person paid their money to the charity and sent their prompt and get the same access to the fest as anyone else - just because they've not picked a popular ship that doesn't matter.

(the ship in question is between one character and another who is popularly seen within fanon as a father figure but isn't even canonically related to them... And yet the squick was over it being an incest fic)

I don't even ship the ship necessarily, I was just so outraged at the fact that the "executive decision" was made that we weren't *allowed* to fill the full prompt because the organisers squicked out that I volunteered anyway. Fuck, I would have written it if it was actually incest if that was what the prompter really wanted just to spite the organisers. Rage against the puritanical nonsense in fandom.

--

[heliotrope155]

So in the version of post-canon I imagine, quite a lot of people are still alive and I love the idea that Dean and Cas properly do all the holidays, partly in an effort so Claire, Jack , and Sam can experience them as family and partly because Dean likes getting excited about the little things and Cas loves letting him go absolutely crazy with decorations.

#a fic idea possibly hitting an archive near and dear to you soon #thoughts lmao? #Look at me asking for feedback on a fic I haven't even written yet #Claire plays at being incredibly grumpy but warms to it fast #destiel #destiel headcanon #castiel #dean winchester #jack kline #claire novak #supernatural

[steddieasitgoes]

When The Buzzer Sounds | A Steddie Big Bang Fic | Coming Soon

Written by: Steddieasitgoes | Art by: @hellfiredemon

Steve's so engrossed in his conversation with Eddie he doesn’t notice the change in music or the enthusiastic cheers of the people around him as they shift their gaze from the court up to the giant Jumbotron above. In fact, it isn’t until Robin is jabbing her own boney elbow into his ribs does he stop talking to asses what the hell is going on. A move he immediately regrets when he realizes what has nearly 20,000 eyes focused on the oversized screens.  The Kiss Cam.  The cameraman stands a few yards away from them, feet solidly on the court with no urgency to move on until he gets what he wants. This isn’t the first time this has happened to them. And it certainly won’t be the last. Whenever they’re in public they’re always SteveandRobin so inseparable they must be dating.  He’s prepared to see his and Robin’s freckled face projected up on the Jumbotron. To give into the routine they have down pact — Robin’s playful retching, Steve’s bewildered shake of his head, the two of them both mouthing “we’re siblings” because it works better than trying to explain their platonic soulmate-ism to a stadium that can’t hear them. Though, maybe this time Robin will go off script and announce that she’s a lesbian — if only because a familiar blonde has returned to the court.  But it’s not their freckled faces that grace him when he looks up. It’s his face, yes. Perfectly combed and styled hair, a smattering of moles, and hazel eyes a little wider than usual staring back at him. But it’s the face to his left that shocks him. Unruly curls frame a pale face. Big, wild, brown eyes stare at him in bewilderment like a deer in headlights.  Shit.  “Um, Steve?” Tearing his eyes away from the Jumbotron is an arduous (another win for Robin’s word of the day calendar) battle Steve almost loses. Not because he’s not strong enough, but because the thought of meeting Eddie’s bewildered eyes head-on is enough to send him running. Still, he does just that, schooling his face in something that, he hopes, resembles a neutral expression.  “Don’t worry, they’ll move on,” Steve says, only half believing the words himself. His first-hand experience with the kiss cam says the exact opposite, but he’s not about to tell Eddie that especially when his words have him nodding in relief and sinking back into the black leather seat. The camera is still pointed at them when he looks away from Eddie. Their faces are still projected onto the massive screens and the stadium of onlookers starts a mix of chants and boos — encouragement and disappointment that they’re not participating in the time-honored, tradition. At least everyone in his row is silent, not even Dustin makes a move to join the onslaught of harassment from strangers which is further proof of what a colossal mess they’ve found themselves in. 

Or:

The year is 1998 and Lucas is set to make his NBA debut. Nothing is going to keep Steve from being there to witness this monumental moment. Eddie apparently shares the same sentiment and the two find themselves in the same place at the same time for the first time since they blurred the lines of their once-solid friendship four years ago at Dustin's wedding.

Surprisingly, Steve and Eddie manage to fall back into their friendship easily. That is until their playful conversation at half-time gets interpreted as flirting and the two find themselves the latest victims in the dreaded Kiss Cam tradition. With a stadium watching and his own desire taking over, Steve must decide if kissing Eddie "for the bit" is worth jeopardizing their rekindled friendship.

Who knows, maybe a peer-pressured kiss will be the spark to get them to talk about that night four years ago when everything changed.

Project #009 for @steddiebang2024 | 15K Expected Word Count | Mature

#steddie big bang #steddiebang24 #steddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #steve harrington fic #steve harrington ficlet #eddie munson #eddie munson ficlet #eddie munson fic #stranger things #stranger things fic #dani writes #wip wednesday #come ask me questions about this!!!

[deadlyangelofpurity]

I'm being honest here, Viv more or less played herself by setting her shows in Hell because not only can she not handle these topics, but her writing style and unwillingness to commit to the bit she created only caused the problems down the line.

Not only did Helluva stray from it's dark comedy assassin premise to a weird soap opera yoai fic, but the longer these shows go on, the more the pointless the setting feels. The setting is not Hell, it's just Detroit with furries and red people and Heaven and Hell motifs thrown in.

It doesn't help Viv let's her favoritism for certain characters get in the way of the story. It's why Viv has been working backwards to try and salvage Stolitz and it's taking it's toll on the story. Stolas was originally meant to be a villain and it's obvious Viv is trying to backtrack this by shoving a fanfic tier backstory that clearly wasn't planned into the mix and changing Stolas's characterization to make him more likable on a whim rather than developing him properly. It seems Viv has a tendency of woobifying characters to a high degree and whilst Stolas is the most obvious example, Ozzie, Fizz and Lucifer can fall under this as they initially had a more antagonistic role only to be reduced to a goofy two shoes misunderstood bois. This show would've worked better on Earth because the Hell in the show is legit just Earth with an overabundance of red and furry people.

Seriously I think we have a serious problem with the writing when we're having lust demons give consent speeches. Seriously this show is for adults yet it feels like it's written for teens. I've read fanfiction with better writing than Viv's current stuff.

#hazbin critical #helluva boss critical #helluva criticism #hazbin critic #spindlehorse criticism #vivziepop critic #anti vivziepop #vivziepop critical #rant #anti hazbin hotel #vivzipop critical

[weskie]

Eye of the Storm (Albert Wesker x gn!Reader)

post spencer confrontation, what if wesker was loved and allowed to feel the pain of his emotions | Fic Directory

You find him in a fit of rage.

He’d been gone for a few days. A business venture, he’d said.  One you weren’t permitted to join.

You never expected this.

You hadn’t even heard him arrive. No greeting, no shutting of the front door nor footsteps that normally tipped you off to his presence. 

You hear a heavy thud, not unlike something being slammed against a wall.  Then another, and another, and another.  You scurry through your home toward his office, finding the sounds of snarling growls and shattering, splintering wood to be that much louder.  You’re almost afraid to open the door, but you know you must.

Whatever happened, whatever state he’s in– you swore long ago that you’d be by his side through it all.  The creaking of the door makes him spin around, eyes a sharp red even through the dark tint of his glasses.  His chest heaves with heavy breaths and his fists are balled so tight you can practically hear the creaking cry of crushed leather. He seethes through bared teeth as if to warn you away when you take that first step inside.

You know better.

“Al,” you croon, treading slowly. Glass crunches beneath the sole of your shoe and he appears to flinch the slightest bit.  “Sweetheart,” you take another few steps closer, hands in front of you to show the surrender within your approach.  You don’t know what to say.  It seems as though nothing in the world can quell the hurricane brewing within.  

His unrelenting gaze all but dares you to cross the fray.  Will you be so bold as to enter the eye of the storm? Could you?

As you come closer, you notice the damage.  His black coat is torn in several places, bloodied in others– flecks of it in his hair.  Gloves scuffed at the knuckles. Glasses cracked at the corner, sitting at an odd angle due to a missing nose pad.

You reach up slowly to remove them, pushing them up to rest atop his head.  His breath catches audibly.  Wesker’s upper lip curls and trembles, nose scrunching in a way that you would ordinarily find cute were it not for the typhoon of rage written across his face. 

Your hands trace slowly down his temples to cup his cheeks.  You can tell he’s reluctant to let you touch him.  He doesn’t speak, but he also doesn’t look away.  His eyes drill straight into you.  It’s as if looking away means to be consumed by the same force that split the desk in two and wrecked the room.

“Breathe, Al.” You whisper, thumbs tracing the curve of his cheekbones. You watch him take a shuddering breath before his hands shoot up to grab your wrists.  You wince at the tightness of his grip.

He falls to his knees, head lowered.

You go down with him.

Whatever splinters you’ve landed on sting, but there are matters far more pressing than that.

“I am nothing.”  

His voice is small and so incredibly unlike the man you know.  There is no authority, no edge, no strength to it.  With a hand at the back of his neck, you pull him to hide his face against your chest.  You’re about to open your mouth to counter such a terribly false statement when a crushing grip settles on your shoulders.

“Manufactured.” 

His hands shake despite the force of their hold.  Something had truly rattled him to his core, something big.  Flashes of memories blow through your mind of every time you’d seen that perfect composure crack.  His fury at his old teammate, frustrations with achieving his dream, and–

Like shattered glass revealing an unspoken truth, you connect his words with his most persistent anxiety.

The old man.

You realize why your presence was forbidden, why he wouldn’t tell you his whereabouts nor his plans.

For every night he’d laid awake chewing a hole in his lower lip, tossing and turning, fretting and torturing himself.  Each moment he’d lose the time staring at the wall, contemplating his strange fixation on none other than Oswell E. Spencer himself.  All of the time and resources spent tracking down a ghost.

Had his efforts paid off?

His grip grows stronger as he launches into a tirade– Umbrella, Spencer, Project Wesker.  You merely listen with wide eyes as he tells the tale of his creation, and everything you know of his upbringing becomes so much more sorrowful.  Not merely an orphan, nor a prodigy with exceptional ideals and a mind to change the world.

A product.

An idea.

Another man’s dream.

A borrowed last name.

A boy stolen from those that would have nurtured him.  Taken from the people who would have celebrated his mind, not simply capitalized off of it.  Who would have cared for his milestones and held his hands through each one.

Who would have loved him.

His eyes are unfocused as he tells every detail.  It’s as if he’s gone to hide within himself.

You suspect such a state is far worse than his rage could ever be.

He’s silent for a time, though the tightness of his grip remains.  His mouth twitches, lips parting as if he means to say something, over and over again…

“Who am I?”

The quiver in his voice shatters you.  Those cracks in his poise you’d seen during those anxious frets over finding Spencer, of finding Chris, his disgust with the human race and their penchant for self destruction and cruelty– it’s all split wide open now.  You see the raw nerve that he truly is. And all you want to do is shield him from the pain.  

But you can’t.

The damage is done.  It has been for decades.

The best you can do is hold him close and coo love and reassurances in droves.  You encourage him to feel it.  

Don’t suppress it.  Don’t swallow the pain nor bury it deep to drown in itself.

Feel it.

You card your fingers through the hair at his nape.  He seethes and shakes to hold back his cries.  You still feel the tears soak your shirt all the same.

“Whoever you are,” you whisper, pressing a kiss to his hair. “Whoever you want to be…”

His grip slackens.

“I will love you, always.”

#albert wesker #albert wesker x reader #albert wesker fanfiction #albert wesker x you #wesker x reader #wesker x you #resident evil #dead by daylight #dbd #I just threw this together idk if it's actually gonna be good

[supercorpkid]

How You Get the Girl

Supergirl. Lena Luthor x Reader!, Kara Danvers.

Word Count: 2500.

Notes: I really love this fic, and part 2 (my favorite ever written) is coming soon :)

"Hey, remember my friend Barry?" Kara asks as you settle onto her couch, balancing containers of takeout food. The late hour has granted Kara a break from her Supergirl duties, allowing for a rare moment of tranquility.

"Barry Allen?" You confirm, and she nods. "The one from another Earth?"

"Yeah." She hands you your food and takes a seat beside you, facing you. "Sometimes we meet just to talk, instead of dealing with end-of-the-multiverse situations."

"Nice. I didn't know that." You start eating, but Kara hesitates, an uncommon occurrence as she's typically the one speaking with her mouth full. "Have you seen him recently?"

"Yeah, and he told me something amusing." Kara tilts her head, uncertain. "He ended up in the wrong universe, thinking he was coming here. He was very confused because everything was oddly similar. You know, there was me, you, Alex, Lena, J'onn…"

"Isn't that normal for different universes?" You furrow your brows. "I might not know much about it, but Lena explained once that when a diversion event occurs, a new Earth is created, so—"

"Yeah, yeah." Kara interrupts, contemplating her words as you watch curiously. "The weird part was that you and Lena were..." She pauses, choosing her words carefully. "Together."

"Okay?" You return your attention to your food, losing interest. "We do spend a lot of time together."

"No, I mean, romantically together. Dating." Kara's revelation makes you snap your head up, heart racing. "More than that, actually. You guys were married! And had a kid!"

"A kid?" You laugh nervously. "Now that's absurd."

"Really? The kid part is absurd?" Kara sets aside her untouched food. "So you and Lena being married didn't strike you as absurd enough?"

You swallow hard, avoiding Kara's gaze as your cheeks flush. Is any of what Kara's saying absurd? Not entirely. Have you thought about you and Lena together before? Definitely. Have you secretly hoped for the day Lena will stop pining over Kara so you can do something about your love for her? Absolutely. Will you ever confess this to Kara? Not a chance.

"I mean," You take a deep breath, raising your head and trying to compose yourself. "Perhaps that's why the new Earth was created, right? A wild new scenario? Me and Lena."

Kara blinks, then chuckles. "I guess you're right." She finally picks up her food and begins eating. "I'm not sure if that's how a new Earth is created, but it's certainly wild enough."

Yeah. Wild enough.

Lena steps off the elevator, and you lift your head to admire her before she notices. Her hair is in perfect dark waves down her shoulders. She looks so tiny in her white sneakers, but you love them so dearly because you know how much more comfortable she's been ever since she stopped wearing those awful heels for work. Her lips, just a splash of red in them, as she's recently been dabbing with wearing less makeup than usual. You don't think she's ever looked this pretty.

The headquarters is unusually quiet; J'onn is in another room, Kara and Nia are at work, Alex is out with her girlfriend, and Winn is occupied in one of the computers. For now, it's just you and Lena, which means pining is almost allowed. 

"Hey, Y/N." Lena approaches, carrying a gigantic book and sporting a playful grin. "I know you're gearing up to tease me about my book, so go ahead."

"Honestly, Lena. You think too little of me." She raises one eyebrow at you and you hold back your smile. You manage your best British accent. "Have you gone mad, Hermione? Are you a witch or not?"

"Ah. There it is—the Harry Potter quote I've been waiting for." Lena drops the book onto the table with a thud, and you glance at the cover. "Ironically, it's actually about magic." You offer her a smirk, earning an eye roll in return. "So, has Kara mentioned anything about her last encounter with The Flash?"

"Uh." Your mouth drops, why is Lena bringing this up? "She – She might've mentioned seeing him."

"Right. So apparently she told him about my theory on elseworlds and he doesn't agree with it." Lena opens her book, looking for a page. And you breathe out, relieved you won't need to have that fun conversation with someone else. "So, you know, obviously I have to prove him wrong."

"Obviously." 

You stare at her lips, curving into a smile. So red and perfect. So close and yet so far away. She might be beside you, but the gap between you feels insurmountable.

"Oh, and he also said something about us being married!" She says and you choke on your own saliva and starts coughing violently. Lena's hand goes to your back and she soothes you, in a protective manner. "I mean, I know it's a little far-fetched, but that's an odd reaction."

"I just –" You try to breathe again, ignoring Lena's hands on your back and the way it makes your body shiver under her touch. "I wasn't expecting that. Sorry."

Lena chooses to ignore your awkwardness, which is very much appreciated, and you fall silent thinking about things you will not have, body parts you will not hold, and the reciprocated love that you won't feel. Thoughts etched in the inside of your mind, so addicted to the illusion of a love that never was and never will be.

"How –" You look back at her and she raises her head, previously nose buried in the book, and you swallow your nervousness. "How does a diversion event occur in order to create a new Earth? Is it something big and worldwide, or is it something small and insignificant?"

"Well, it is commonly thought to be big events. The small insignificant things that follow are usually in response to them."

"I see." You breathe deep one more time, mastering your best courage. "So, what would happen if I were to meet the other me or you from another universe? Would it be a paradox or something?"

"No. We're all different people." You bite the inside of your mouth thinking about it. Lena's voice brings you back from your trance. "Why the sudden interest?"

"Hm? Oh, I'm just trying to understand more." You smile getting up from your place. "Thanks for explaining it to me." She looks at you curiously and you over explain things with your arms, like a lunatic. "Things are slow today. I'm just gonna head home. If there's an emergency, just hit me up."

"Oh, sure." Lena has barely noticed you're gone, nose buried in the book once again. "Yeah, we'll let you know."

Is it madness? You pace the apartment floor, wrestling with your thoughts. Is it crazy to entertain the idea of venturing into another Earth just to witness a scenario where you and Lena are together? Is it reckless and irresponsible? Is it even fair?

But this love you feel for her has been eating you from the inside. You don't believe there's ever been a space quite as big as the one she wished into existence between your heart and hers. So how can you not? How can you not go on an excursion to find out how to summon this love into being?

"Hey!" Kara taps on your window and you turn around to look at her. "What's the emergency?"

"I need to go on a trip." You say. Packed bags at the edge of the couch, forced smile on your face. She flies in, landing close to it.

"Whe –"

"Can't tell you where. Just wanted to give you a heads-up so you won't worry."

Kara studies you, suspicion evident in her eyes. "Did something happen? Are you going on a mission?"

"No!" You rush to assure her, preventing any further questions. "No, no. Nothing happened, really. It's not a –" But it is a mission of sorts. "Not a real mission, maybe one just to answer a question that keeps me fast awake at night."

Kara squints her eyes looking at you, clearly finding your act extremely suspicious, and you curse yourself for your breath stuck in your lungs and the heart beating almost out of your body.

"Kara, you don't need to worry, I promise."

"Too late! Am worried!" She breathes out, sitting on your couch, right next to your bag. "What's going on? You've been acting weird these days. And DON'T –" She points at you accusingly, because she knows you were about to open your mouth and defend yourself. "say you're not, because I know you and you can't fool me, no matter how much you want to."

She's right. Kara knows you inside out. But there's one thing she's mistaken about: you've been successfully fooling her for months.

This pining over Lena, this ridiculous huge crush you've been nurturing for Lena Luthor has been going for far too long. You crave the way she smells and how she talks. You dream about green eyes and perfect arched eyebrows directed at you. You're consistently going out of your way just to see her. You jump on cases, and suggest team pairings. It's crazy the fact that no one noticed yet, because honestly? You don't think you're doing a far too good of a job when your mouth literally drops at the sight of her.

And yet, your best friends haven't figured it out. None of them. Not even the Kryptonian with super hearing and x-ray vision. 

"You have nothing to worry about, really. But I can't tell you where I'm going, so you're just gonna have to trust me on this one." You try your best puppy eyes and sweet smile. "You do, right? You trust me?"

Kara's eyes soften immediately as she stands and comes closer to you, "Of course I do, Y/N. You're a strong, powerful woman and you can take care of yourself." She reaches for your arm and winks at you. "Plus, you have me on speed dial."

She means the watch.

You agree with your head and hug her goodbye.

You've never been to another Earth. Have heard enough about it, though, to not look completely lost and out of place. So you do your research, does Supergirl exist? Is Lena running some kind of business empire? Where do all the heroes meet up?

You're quick to find out, LuthorCorp is still very much a thing here, and it's run by yours truly, your so-called wife, Lena. So you make your way there first thing. 

"Hi," You try, while talking to the receptionist. "I'm here to see Lena, I'm –"

"Mrs. Luthor!"

Startled, you glance behind, finding no one. "Where?" Then the realization dawns. "Oh. Oh! You mean me. Yeah, I never quite got used to it. Can I go up?"

"Of course, ma'am."

You step into the elevator, musing over how Lena's last name sounds rather fitting when associated with you. In fact, you might prefer it to your own.

"Mrs. Luthor," you overhear Lena's assistant on the phone as soon as she spots you. "Your wife is here."

You make a gesture to correct her, but she's already running to the door. "Mrs. Luthor, please." she nods at you.

"Oh, you don't have – it's ok. I can –" You finally smile back at her. "I'll take it from here, thanks."

As soon as the door closes behind you, Lena makes her way towards you.

Holy shit, she's a mirror image of your Lena. Not a single strand of hair out of place. She even wears the same style of heels your Lena used to, with a high ponytail and those perfect red lips curved into a smile.

"Darling, I didn't know you were dropping by." Before you can say anything, she's planting a kiss on you—a short, sweet peck that catches you off guard. It takes a few moments for you to close your eyes and reciprocate, only to find Lena pulling away. "Is everything all right?"

"I'm not your wife!" The words burst out before she can lean in again, the realization hitting you hard. It hurts to say, especially when all you want is to kiss Lena once more, even though she's not truly your Lena.

"What?" Lena's eyebrows knit together in confusion.

"I'm a different Y/N. From another Earth." You point to yourself, trying to convey the truth. She stares at you in disbelief, so you rack your brain for ways to convince her. "Call your wife, and you'll see."

Lena blinks, then reaches for her phone on her desk. After a brief conversation, she hangs up. "You're not my wife," she confirms, setting her phone down. "Sorry for the unexpected kiss. You look exactly like her. Well, you are her."

"It's okay. I can't say I hated it." You admit, feeling a blush rise to your cheeks at her amused smirk. Maybe you shouldn't have said that.

"Let me guess, your own world is in danger, and you need our help, or something equally insane?" Lena guesses with a sigh.

"My world is fine. But I do need your help with something insane."

Lena gestures toward the couch, and you follow suit. "Do tell, not-my-wife."

"How did we end up together in this universe? How did I win you over?" You're not even half seated yet and are blurting out questions.

"Win me over?" Lena chuckles at your choice of words. "Oh, darling. You fell in love with a Lena?"

"I'm afraid I did. Except mine is in love with Kara, so –"

"Oh, ok." This Lena shakes her head like that thought is insane. "Can't help you in that area. I was always in love with you – your version from here. In fact, you didn't win me over. I was the one who had to win you."

"Oh yeah, that was probably so hard. Flash those green eyes and a knowing smirk at me, and I'm already head over heels for you." 

Lena nods in agreement, a smile playing on her lips. "To be honest, that was pretty much it."

Great, this entire excursion to another universe was useless. This Y/N finally got the girl, and you can't be helped.

"I'm sorry," Lena is quick to say. "I know I was of no help, but don't lose hope!"

"How do you know–"

"Please, Y/N. I am your wife." She reaches for your hand, smiling warmly. "If you fell in love with me here and in your universe, there's likely others where we end up together. I'm not saying you can visit them all—"

"I will visit them all!" You declare, rising from the couch, and you can practically feel Lena rolling her eyes. As you stand, she does too, and you share a goodbye hug. "Thanks for your help, not-my-wife! A pity kiss goodbye in case I never get the girl?"

She chuckles at your jest and plants a kiss on your cheek. "I'm certain you'll get her."

With renewed determination, you prepare for another journey to another Earth.

#supergirl #kara danvers #lena luthor #lena x reader #reader insert #supergirl fanfiction #supergirl imagine

[whoseholtz]

today was a fairytale | alexander holtz

pairing : alexander holtz x fem!reader

warnings : one of my first fully written fics, swearing, use of y/n, switch of pov (will be written in italics!)

summary : when reader goes to a devil's game and decides to make a sign asking #10 for a puck in exchange for a lego set and he actually notices her and the day turns out to be like one in a fairytale.

word count : 1.6k

y/n pov

“Girl, it’s a stupid idea, there’s a bunch of signs around the rink why would he choose yours?” your best friend says looking at the sign you made for your favourite player.

She always knew how to ruin the mood.

You slightly adjusted the sign in your hands which read, ‘Can I trade you a Lego set for a puck, #10?’ in a goofy font. The white card had been something you picked up from the craft store on your way home from work, an impulsive decision as always.

“But but but there’s barely any with his name on it, plus who cares, it’s fun okay, and if he actually spots me it’s a bonus,” you smiled clinging onto that little bit of hope that he would see your sign.

“Yeah, I guess,” your friend shrugged as a smirk grew on her face.

“What is it?” you asked knowing that when that smirk appeared there was always a plan brewing in her head.

“Oh nothing, just the fact that you are a beautiful hot girl who likes lego oh and he’s a guy who likes girls and lego, get his number girl,” she said jokingly nudging your shoulder.

In what world would ALEXANDER HOLTZ notice you?

“Okay get out of your Wattpad-loving brain, let’s just enjoy warmups and the game,” a smirk forming on your friend's face, “but no high hopes of anything more than the game.”

The lights started dimming in the arena, the colours of the devils shining bright with the booming voices from the speakers announcing the players would be entering the ice soon.

Your friend slapping your arm, “Look how cute they look, they’re Disney princesses with pads.”

“Yes, yes, I know to calm down, we don’t wanna look like the crazy ones,” you replied, being conscious of when #10 entered the ice.

Then there he was, gliding smoothly across the ice.

He could easily be on one of the top lines but he gets treated like shit from the shitty old coaches.

Warm-ups went on like normal, the silly superstitions, and pucks across the ice in every direction.

“He’s good at skating I guess,” your friend said smartly, “he plays for the NHL dipshit, of course, he’s good at skating.”

“I know but I looked at his stats and his ice time is really low and like that means he doesn’t have any chance to get good plays,” your friend shrugged, her eyes following his every move.

All she said was true, he dealt with the game. all he cared about was that he was in the league, the best league in the world for hockey.

Being a player's biggest fan came with the depression of the issues at hand, their places on the lines, their falls and other setbacks that come with being an NHL player, and every day you wish they could be the best and biggest player in the league.

Even harder being on a team with two top first-round picks and a bunch of other players who are raved about all around the league.

“Girl snap the fuck of out, he’s looking at you, right at you holy shit,” your friend said slapping your shoulder, pointing at him skating around in circles, locking eyes with you.

“Oh my god, no way he’s looking at me,” you said, jumping up and down not knowing what to do, stay weird or keep calm and try your best to look hot.

The Lego Ferrari car shook in your hand, the other shaking against the glass trying to keep your cool as he skated towards where you were situated.

—

alex pov

Skating towards such a pretty girl was scary, but the sign caught his eye. he didn’t get many signs, trades even and Lego is his favourite thing, so why wouldn’t he be excited?

The white, red and black sign with the pretty girl holding it couldn’t pass his way, maybe he’d even get a point this game.

Going home after a win but with little ice time and no points didn’t help with his mood. he’d sit on his couch in the dim room questioning why he could never be enough for the team and the league.

He has tried so hard.

—

y/n pov

“No way he’s gonna actually want the set. no way you are getting a puck, oh my god y/n this is crazy ahhh he’s coming towards us,” she said, slapping you repeatedly in the same spot, it was starting to hurt.

“Okay just stop, calm down and look cool girl,” you said, wanting to look as normal as possible for Alexander Holtz.

Tap, tap, tap on the glass.

A red glove right in front of your face, the culprit of the tapping noise.

His adorable smiling face looking at you, signalling to get ready for the puck to be thrown over the ice.

You smiled back and nodded, pulling the sign down, holding your hands ready to catch it, not believing what was going on.

You almost wanted to keep your eyes on him even when the puck had been thrown from his hands, but you obviously couldn’t.

The puck weighing in your hand, your eyes fixated on it.

"Y/n, y/n, y/n the lego set, stop googling at the puck and hand him the bloody lego set,” your friend said, slapping you once again.

“Oh fuck yeah wait, hold the puck while I chuck this thing over the glass,” you said, questioning if all those years of skipping gym were back to bite you.

First try, failed.

Second try, failed.

Third try, failed.

Fourth time, WE GOT IT.

He grinned at you one last time before turning around and skating to the bench to place the set down.

A weird feeling flowed through your body. Almost as if you’d just lost something, a presence and a sense of comfort just poof, gone.

But that thought quickly got taken away when the stadium filled with screams of die-hard fans, with you being one of them.

Somehow you’d made it to your seat already getting ready for the game to start.

You realised your head couldn’t stop thinking about the interaction with him, the puck clinging to your hand.

“Hey hey y/n, maybe loosen your grip on the puck, your knuckles are turning white and we don’t want to leave before the game even starts,” your friend said, nudging you to get your attention.

“Oh shit sorry, it’s just he’s so ahhhh, like oh my god he’s got something in his possession that I bought, with my own money,” you grinned, immediately the wave of regret of spending that much money on a lego set, washing away.

“Well let’s just enjoy this game and hope for a win and a Holtz point,” she said, holding up her overpriced drink to yours.

“I’ll toast to that, to Holtz getting a point and maybe a devil's won.”

—

“AND THE DEVILS WIN THE GAME WITH ALEXANDER HOLTZ AS THE STAR OF THE GAME”

The shock on your face shouldn’t have been that big but when a fourth-line player gets chosen as the star of the game it is huge.

“Girl he did it for you, you are his good luck charm, you need to give him something every game,” your friend yells beside you jumping out of her seat.

“Okay, I get hockey players are superstitious but girl there’s no way, let’s just leave it,” you sighed, your life couldn’t be all butterflies and rainbows.

It was not a Wattpad story, and you couldn’t treat it like it was. He probably just threw out the Lego set, you thought you were insane thinking there was a chance he actually remembered who you were; there’s no way he did.

—

alex pov

He couldn’t stop thinking about her smile, how it was the prettiest thing he had ever seen. and he got a goal, points, the fucking star of the game.

yeah, he laughed at people saying hockey players are suppositions and yeah he was a tiny bit. he had his routines but it was never that serious, the only thing different about his game was seeing her, locking eyes with her.

The Lego set sitting on his living room table was a reminder of how her smile made him feel, all bubbly inside like he could rule the world.

“Bro stop zoning out it’s scary, you just got star of the game let’s celebrate,” Luke said as he walked past you, he had invited himself in like he did every other night. win or lose he was there.

“Sorry sorry just trying to figure out what happened today that made me play so good.”

“It was totally that girl you were spying on from the start of the game to the end,” Luke joked, “this is the Lego set she gave you right?” he questioned picking it up off the table.

“Hey, don’t touch that,” he yelled, running towards Luke.

“Shit, sorry didn’t think it was such a big deal,” he said dropping the Lego set onto the table again.

“No sorry I just can’t seem to get her out of my head, and the thought I probably will never see her again,” Alexander said slowly sitting down on the couch.

“Okay don’t think about it that way, be happy you’ve somewhat met her and that you are the star, be present,” Luke replied sitting down on the couch like it was his own home, grabbing the remote and flicking some random show on.

“Never say something like that again, it's weird hearing advice from you,” Alex replied, shocked by the words coming out of his mouth.

“HEY,” Luke yelled, slapping him in the process.

It wasn’t like Luke thought, he still felt her presence somewhat, a faint smell of grapefruit which you would only notice if you really paid attention.

He couldn’t get away from the thought of her.

He couldn’t stop wondering when he’d see her again.

a/n :: hi guyssss sorry i've been lacking motivation so this took... a while to publish and stuff so i hope u like it!! tysm for all the love on if i could tell her <33

also i might be making this a series? maybe? don't hold me to that though :}

#mira⌇🌷 #alexander holtz #alex holtz #new jersey devils #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagine #nhl x reader #nhl fanfic #nhl fic #alexander holtz x reader #alexander holtz imagine #alexander holtz fanfic

[latenighttalkinqwp]

hiyaaaa could u write a fic/blurb abt maybe surprising kk while she’s doing one of her lil lives?!!!!!:)

surprising kk on live !

“hey girly pops!” kk threw up a peace sign, reading the comments. ice plopped on the chair beside her, waving to the live. “kk where is your man?” ice laughed, looking over at the brunette. kk rolled her eyes, propping her phone up on a water bottle. “okay so, my ‘man’ has been busy with sports. y’all girlies already know, we the athletic couple. period.” she looked at herself through the live, ignoring the face ice was giving her.

you had been gone for a few weeks due to dance. your coach always kept you busy, but during the summer before football season, kk felt like you never had time for her. currently, you were back in your hometown, hosting an intensive that your old studio planned for you to run. it would last about a week, not including the time you would be spending home after to be back with family. it was safe to say, that kk definitely was missing you.

“yall, it’s private but not a secret.” kk laughed, motioning for ice to come stand near her. “paige was supposed to be joining but i think she had an errand to run or something..” kk rolled her eyes, trying to change the topic off of you. ice nodded, even though she knew exactly what paige was doing.

kk knew you were coming back to uconn in the next week, since that’s what you guys had discussed over the phone. however, what she didn’t know was that you actually scheduled your flight back for the week before to surprise her.

about thirty minutes had gone by, and kk was letting random people join the live, whenever she seen your name in the chat. her eyebrows raised, pointing out what you commented to ice. they both waved, trying to let you know that they seen what you commented. “yall, my ‘man’ is lurking in the chat right now.” kk pretended that she was blushing, tucking one of her twists behind her ear. ice laughed, knowing what was about to happen.

you turned off your phone, looking up at paige. you guys were standing outside of the door, waiting for the perfect moment to go in. “are you sure she’s okay with me being on the live?” you asked, knowing how kk felt about keeping the relationship between you and her. paige nodded, motioning for you to walk in. kk looked up whenever she heard the door open, expecting it to be paige walking in.

“hi kam!” you smiled, scanning the girls face for a reaction. kk’s jaw dropped, covering her mouth with her hand. “wait- what are you doing here?” she asked, running over to pull you into a tight hug. paige and ice smiled, going over to talk to the live. “i thought i would surprise you! i missed you too much to wait any longer.” you felt kk’s smile widen into your neck, pulling you even closer. “i missed you so much, im so happy you are here right now.” kk pulled back, looking you up and down. “sorry- i am just making sure this is like…totally real right now.”

you rolled your eyes, pulling her back in for another hug. you put your hands on her cheeks, looking her in the eyes. she licked her lips, leaning in closer. you closed the gap between you guys, and pressed a tender kiss to her lips. you both pulled away smiling, looking over at paige and ice who were telling the live what was happening. kk laughed, looking back over at you. “do you think it’s real now?” you raised and eyebrow, scanning your eyes over the girls face.

“i’m not sure, i might need another kiss just to be sure…”

- thank u for reading all the way through! feel me to send me more requests !!!

- i hope this was good! im so sorry this took me so long to write babe 😭 this is easily one of the worst things i’ve written….

#kk arnold #kk arnold x reader #jazzies anons💝 #uconn wbb #uconn women’s basketball #uconn huskies #paige bueckers #wcbb #ice brady #jazzies asks🥳 #kk arnold headcannons

[ashwhowrites]

could you do a Robin fic where reader forgets her diary at Robin's house after a sleepover (they're childhood best friends) and Robin decides to take a peek when she sees what reader wrote about her and all the things reader wants Robin to do to her, and then Robin does those things to her. Idk if this is a good request so if you don't like it don't do it. Anyways, love your fics!! 🩷

I love my baby Rob

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻

Dear diary

YN and Robin had been best friends for years. They met in elementary school and haven't been apart since. They told each other everything and nothing was a secret when it came to each other. Except for one little thing, Y/N never told Robin. Y/N never came out to Robin or told her she was in love with her. Y/N knew Robin liked girls, she knew before Robin told her. Y/N wished she had come out when Robin did, but she was scared.

Watching Robin grow into an attractive and mature woman was hard for Y/N. She always wanted to call it a small school crush, but it was past the crushing level.

Y/N didn't have other friends she wanted to share the information with, so she wrote it in her diary.

After the sleepover Y/N had with Robin last night, she had a lot to write about. She unpacked her bag and kept an eye out for her diary. She felt panic seep in her bones when the bag was empty and the diary was nowhere to be seen.

~

"I'm always amazed by how blue her eyes are. It gets hard to follow what she says because she is so distracting."

"We watched another movie tonight. It was her pick so I didn't understand the movie. But I loved listening to her reviews."

"We walked through the rain and I only thought about kissing her."

"I need to stop buying her rings. It's getting too attractive."

"I love the way she holds my hand through the store."

"I love it when she picks on Steve, sometimes he deserves it."

"I wish she'd kiss me."

"I wish she'd rent a horror film and let me hide in her arms. Baby me and slip me on her lap and take my breath away with her body."

Robin slammed the diary shut as she felt guilt rushing through her. She knew all of her best friend's deepest thoughts. Stuff she never guessed Y/N thought about. But Robin couldn't help but feel butterflies in her stomach. Her best friend liked her, and really liked her.

Robin chewed at her bottom lip as she weighed out her options. She wasn't sure if she should admit she read it or not. Would Y/N be pissed?

Yeah, probably Robin! You read about her secret crush on you

Robin jumped as she heard the phone ring. She set the book down on her bed and walked out to the kitchen. She answered and tried to keep her breathing normal.

"Hey Rob, did I leave a book there?" Y/N asked, nervously chewing on her nails. She hoped Robin didn't open it, or noticed that it was a diary not just a book.

"Um yeah, it...was on my floor! Yeah right there on the floor. Do you want me to bring it to school tomorrow? Or I could bike there right now. I think it might rain but I ha-"

"Tomorrow is fine, Rob. I'll see you in the morning," Y/N laughed as she hung up. She was used to Robin's rambles so she didn't think twice about it.

"I'm fucked," Robin said to herself as she slammed the phone on the wall.

~~~

Robin burned fire on her driveway as she paced. Y/N would be here any moment and Robin was horrible at seeming nonchalant. Her brain kept seeing the words written on the paper.

Robin took a deep breath as Y/N pulled up. She got in the car and tried to focus on being calm.

"Morning, Rob" Y/N said with a smile

Robin sent her a smile and handed over the book. Robin felt her stomach get tight as Y/N looked up and stared into her eyes. Was she thinking about how blue they were?

"What is it? It doesn't have a title or anything" Robin asked, not sure if she was making herself suspicious or in the clear

"Like a little journal. Nothing important in it," Y/N shrugged and tossed it in the backseat.

Robin nodded and left it at that.

~~~

Now that Robin knew about the crush, she wanted to do something about it. She has had a crush on Y/N since she could remember.

"Horror? for Y/N? Since when?" Steve asked as Robin checked out the film.

"She happens to want to watch one," Robin said, as she rolled her eyes. "Which I know because I'm her best friend. Just two girls watching a movie...together as friends. Sure, we might hide under a blanket but it's all just as friends!"

"You okay?"Steve asked, he eyed Robin with suspicion. He watched as her face got red and she stuttered a little more.

"What is with the investigation? It's a movie date! Not a date! It's not a date, just a movie with a friend"

"Movie with a friend sounds fun," Steve said, still worried about the girl as she raced out of the shop.

~

Robin might have covered her fingers in pretty rings. And she might have applied a clear gloss and sprayed perfume on her neck.

"Steve recommended this movie so I thought we should give the dingus a shot to be right for once," Robin said as she clicked play on the film. Both girls under the same blanket as Y/N picked at the bowl of popcorn.

Y/N laughed at the dig at Steve, but she was excited it was a horror film.

As the movie played, the closer Y/N got to Robin's warm body. The bowl of popcorn was moved to the table as Y/N launched herself into Robin's arms and hid her face in her neck.

Y/N silently purred to herself as she smelt the perfume on her skin. She smelled addicting.

"You don't have to be scared, I got you, sweetheart." Robin cooed as she wrapped her arm around Y/N.

Y/N felt her heart race, she could feel her heartbeat pounding in her ears.

"Thanks," she whispered shyly

"Just a movie, I'll protect you," Robin said, she looked down but couldn't see her face. "Would you want to...sit in my lap?"

Robin felt herself hold her breath as the question hung in the air. She prayed Y/N wouldn't think too hard and connect the dots.

Before Y/N could answer, Robin's arms were already yanking her over. Y/N felt her stomach flutter as she slipped on Robin's lap. She sat face to face with Robin, the movie lost in the background.

"What are you doing?" Y/N whispered, her eyes lost in the ocean blue of Robin's eyes.

"Taking your breath away," Robin whispered as she leaned in

Y/N felt pounding in her chest...and in between her legs as Robin cupped her face. The coldness of her chunky rings sent shivers down her spine.

Y/N held her breath as Robin closed the space between them. Her glossy lips were delicately pressed against hers. Y/N moaned as she kissed Robin back. Y/N's arms moved up to wrap around Robin's neck, deepening the kiss.

Robin kept one hand on her face and the other one moved down Y/N's back and slipped underneath her shirt. The feeling of Y/N's bare skin on her hand made Robin burn with desire.

Robin licked Y/N's bottom lip, asking to take the kiss to another level. Y/N happily agreed, opening her mouth as their tongues touched.

Y/N couldn't help but rock her hips against Robin, her hands moved into Robin's hair. She yanked and tugged as Robin growled.

Needing air, they pulled back. They panted as they looked at each other. A shy smile on Robin's face as Y/N looked shocked it all happened.

"I read your diary. I know that it was wrong, but I read too much. I know you like me and I like you too. I'm sorry for invading your privacy but I couldn't ignore what I read. I've liked you for so long and never had the right words to say." Robin explained, still a little breathless.

"I feel like I should be mad, but I got what I wanted." Y/N smiled

"I've always wanted to kiss you too," Robin confessed, her thumb softly pulling on Y/N's bottom lip.

"What do we do now?" Y/N asked

"I ask if you want to be my girlfriend? I think? I'm not sure most of Steve's stories end at the kiss and he doesn't see them again." Robin said

"Girlfriend sounds perfect," Y/N smiled

They shared a smile before their lips smashed together.

Maybe Y/N should leave her diary around more often.

#robin buckley fanfic #robin buckley x reader #robin buckley #robin buckley x fem!reader #robin buckley x female reader #robin buckley fluff #robin buckley fluff x female reader #ashwhowrites #robin buckley requests

[i-yap]

I found ur blog like a week ago and I went through all ur Dick Grayson fics and I'm lowkey obsessed help

May I ask for childhood best friends to lovers w Grayson? Maybe he and R were besties at the circus but after the incident and he gets taken in by Bruce, they get taken into the Court of Owls and works as their best informant/spy when they meet Dick again as Nightwing? Or just normal childhood friends to lovers lol

Im not too familiar with the court of owls..so im just doing a govt spy y/n if thats okay. And also i need more people like you giving love to babyboy grayson tbh

Dick Grayson x spy!reader - Childhood besties ->lovers

The girl who could fit through, mold through any surface, any ring or hole and the boy who could jump, twist and turn like no other. The boy of the spotlight and the girl of the shawdows..the only kids in a big circus they called family. But what good is a family when he's gone. Some billionaire, from gotham they said. Was it the billionaire who held him when he cried that night. No , she was.

That night, the girl had no parents so his parents were hers too. But she is calmer, always has been. Calm, bidding her time before she makes enough to escape. A house is not a home without her wonder boy.

Wonder boy? in the choas of it all, in the pain, for the sake of revenge he left her. But he himself doesnt see - he really had no choice. " New family" the press called it. A family is not born out of pain, its not born from bloodthirst. She was his family, but when he came to get her she was long gone.

Now here he stands, looking at her. He should have known she'd turn into a govt spy, she had a talent of getting in where she shouldnt. The way she got into his heart and never left.

The vigilante and the soldier, the hero and the spy, the fighter and the runner.

Would she believe him if he said he thought about her everyday? would she love what he has become? Would she forgive him for all he has done?

What all he had done. the women he has been with, they never meant anything. He thought she was dead! if he had known. They promised under the circus lights...but here he was. He wonders if she broke the promise too.

She didnt care, of course not. This was her sweetheart, her lover. He had the same smile, the same love for the spotlight, the same passion and the same kind eyes. Maybe she is breaking the oath of being a government official, but promises are made to be broken and for him, there's not much she wouldnt break.

The same applies to him, after all these years, reunited again. Maybe they never left at all. It's written in the curtains of the big red-yellow tent.

Changing the system from inside and out, y/n really has always been what's missing from Dick grayson. How can boy wonder be without his girl mystery after all.

#• #Batboys Imagines #Dick Grayson x Reader #Dick Grayson x You #Dick Grayson x Y/N #Dick Grayson Fluff #Dick Grayson Angst #Dick Grayson Comfort #Dick Grayson Headcanons #Dick Grayson Imagines #Nightwing x Reader #Nightwing x You #Nightwing x Y/N #Nightwing Fluff #Nightwing Comfort #Batfamily #Batfamily x Reader #Batfamily Fluff #Batfamily x You #Batfamily x Y/N #Batfamily Headcanons #Batfamily Imagines #Batboys #Batboys x Reader #Batboys Fluff #Batboys Headcanons