#and no one would even notice if I stopped

[nightingale-prompts]

Lay Me to Rest- DCxDP Prompt

Warning: Blood and gore

There has been a series of murders across the country. Each death was varied and self-inflicted. At first, they all seemed like suicide but each had a strange range of symptoms before death.

Sudden paranoia, incoherent mumbling, screaming or yelling, going in and out of their homes sporadically, random fixations, and finally self-harm.

The victims were teachers, parents, businessmen, truckers, and even a crime novelist. All unrelated and in different states.

Each victim didn't seem to have a connection until an investigation discovered that each one had been an active serial killer. The body counts ranged from as little as 5 to as much as 23. The killer was named the Serial Serial Killer which wasn't creative but it was catchy. Some called them the Angel of Vengeance but most thought it was cringy and overdramatic. Many people didn't want them to be caught but others hotly debated letting a killer dispense justice when their crusade could easily turn into them killing people for innocuous things.

The police were still questioning whether this killer even existed. One thing was clear, there was a trail and it led straight to Gotham. A goldmine for them. Naturally, Batman had gotten a hold on the case and began an investigation.

The biggest question was how the killer found their victims and how they knew that they were killers.

The answer was obvious. They didn't need to figure it out. They just needed to wait. Why just in the effort to investigate when a serial killer tries to convince you to leave with them? So bars are the obvious place. But that's shaky at best since there is a period of torment that takes place that allows the victims to return home. The killer doesn't care if the victims could call the police, perhaps because they know their victim won't.

Bruce started to build a profile. He saw a pattern here. Each of the victims had a preference for their victims as well. They targeted young people, mainly boys. Odds are the Serial Serial Killer matched that description or age range. So bars weren't the hunting ground. So parks were more likely to go unnoticed and boys tended to hang out there longer after dark.

The killer was more than likely a victim himself so he may have a few scars but probably not noticeable enough that his would-be assailants would be turned off. There is no ignoring the predatory nature of the victims. Each killed children for gratification in some form. It's not that the boy is attractive but he probably has traits that the victims found attractive in children. So babyfaced, short, native, and polite.

There was much else Bruce could get. There was nothing concrete and he still didn't understand the method that was used. So far this was guesswork.

It wasn't until a few weeks later while he tracking another killer that he found his answer.

Dr.Kinder a Biologist by day and a killer who experiments on his victims at night had picked up a promising new lab rat a week ago. He had intended to slowly dissect the boy. He had gotten so used to the screams he stopped using anesthetics besides he wanted to see how the fear response caused the organs to shift.

To his surprise the boy didn't fight, in fact he seemed to jump to the table and say he didn't need restraints. Disturbing. But he was restrained anyways.

As the doctor cut him open the boy didn't react, only humming to himself as he watched the doctor.

"What are you hoping to find?" He asked. "I'm getting bored and this bearly hurts."

The boy annoyingly never stopped talking and never missed a chance to ruin the moment. There were never any screams or cries but incessant talking.

Dr.Kinder found the boy disturbing so he simply took an axe and chopped the boy into pieces. Not once did he make a sound. The doctor thought it was over but the next day the boy was back. He sat on the autopsy table kicking his feet in nothing but his bare skin.

"What the hell are you?" The doctor gasped in horror.

"I'm bored. Play with me again." The boy purred.

Bile crawled up his throat as the doctor restained this...thing again.

This time the boy spoke differently.

"You cut me up last time. Did you do that to the last boy. After you...you know." A sick grin spread across his cheeks.

The doctor cut open his neck this time and let him bleed out.

Everyday he came back and every day the doctor killed him until the time between his death got shorter and shorter. The days began to blur and he had no idea how long he had been doing this. But that thing kept talkimg to him.

Dr.Kinder stared down at his desk at the papers trying to think of anything but-

"I wonder what people would think about what you've done. You're a disgusting and depraved man doctor. Look at what you've done to me." The sing-song voice of that demon called out.

He could feel those blood-soaked arms wrapped around his neck.

He flinch as he pushed the thing away.

"Oh, are you going to beat me or stab me this time? Ooo, or are you going to put me through the woodchipper again?" The demon asked as the doctor wrapped his hands around his throat.

He just kept squeezing until the boy went limp. It never ends. The blood never goes away. It covered every surface of the room. Dripping, conjugating, and spreading into every corner. Whenever he turned his head he could see body parts spread across the room in the pools of blood he could they the faces of the others that he had killed. Each face wretched in agony.

"You hold on better than the others. I've been eaten, torched, and disemboweled before but after coming back a few times they usually end it after a few words. But every time they don't feel guilt. They just don't want to face consequences." The boy said. "Do you even remember my name? The one I told you when you picked me up on the side of the road or was I just another body to use and discard? I used the name of your first victim. I hoped you'd notice."

The doctor knew he couldn't kill the boy but he could end himself. He had tried it once but just like the kid he came back without a scratch.

"Not yet. This is your life now. Come on, let's taste death together. Again and again and again and again and-" he repeated over and over.

This was hell. This was his hell.

But it came to an end eventually. Dr.Kinder put an end to himself in a gruesome display.

Batman had only caught the tail end as he faced a young boy standing an a pool of blood.

****

"Yeah, that thing is like a worse version of a revenant. Doesn't really have a name yet to describe it. It's undead for sure. You kill it and it just comes back." Constantine said "Why did you bring it here?"

After a long bath and some new clothes, the kid looked normal as played on a phone given to him.

"Look, I didn't know what else to do." Bruce explained.

"You leave it alone!" Constantine said exasperated "Look they are harmless to anything they don't bear a grudge towards. Think of it as a force of nature." Constantine said.

"I just want to know how to stop him." Bruce said.

"Well you can't kill it but you can't bring him back entirely. You can just soothe it 'till it stops targeting its victims. It must have died pretty gruesomely to go to these lengths. You need to find where it died and lay it to rest. Properly." Constantine sighed knowing that appeasing this soul would be more than just difficult.

"Danny, come on. Let's go." Bruced said putting a hand on the boy's head as Danny stood up to leave.

"Okay. Bye!" Danny waved to Constantine.

[wileys-russo]

filling the void (9) II a.putellas

part of the filling the void universe ft solstråle from @girlgenius1111 family line series filling the void (9) II a.putellas

you twirled a pen between your fingers as your gaze flickered downward, tapping your phone and rolling your eyes seeing another five minutes had passed without a text, solstråle now nearly fifteen minutes late and not any sort of explanation offered.

at first you’d wondered if maybe she got lost, but alexia had already told you that mapi had shown solstråle exactly where the library was. 

your sister herself had locked you in her car and refused to let you out today until you promised to be nice, after insisting on picking you up from work and dropping you off to your little study session to ‘save you a walk, which really you knew was just her way of ensuring you didn’t bail.

not that you had plans to, but you were starting to wonder if solstråle was.

alexia had at least followed through on her part of the study deal, and with some sly timing on your shopping trip inside her closet and olga keeping the blonde distracted during, you’d wound up with more than you were promised, much to alexia’s disdain once she noticed a couple of days later exactly what was missing.

having been raised right you were more than ready to be nice and attempt again to break through solstråle’s awkward interior as you arrived and made your way to the breakout room you’d booked. 

after filling mapi in on what happened at the game and how you were sure solstråle already disliked you, mapi was quick to assure it wasn’t you, ingrids sister was just…quiet. 

so trying to prepare best you could for what was in its entirety a new experience for you, you’d spent the morning sourcing some worksheets online and scouring your room for your old textbooks.

having given most of them away you at least still had a couple of basic ones from your final year of school, but you also just had no idea where the norwegian you’d be tutoring was even up to or what bar her spanish she specifically would want and need help with.

however now, still in your work scrubs with a hoodie tossed over the top and the beginning dull throb of an impending headache settling behind your eyes, your willingness and readiness to be so nice to the clearly time poor norwegian was wagering on paper thin.

tapping your nails against the desk you briefly considered leaving, a quick check showing the next bus you could take home was in five minutes and the stop was right outside, but just as you were preparing to pack up your things there was a knock on the door.

the taller brunette didn’t wait for you to say anything, the knock seeming more to let you know she’d arrived as she closed the door behind her and slumped down in the seat across from you, backpack dumped on the table and not a single word of conversation offered.

“llegas tarde.” you raised an eyebrow and stared her down as she looked right back at you blankly and your eyes rolled. “you are late.” you repeated in english, the norwegian shrugging and mumbling a quiet seemingly unbothered apology.

knowing that holding onto the anger simmering inside you would only make this even less productive you paused to calm yourself, twisting alba’s bracelet on your wrist and counting to five in your head before deciding to just start this all over fresh.

“um i do not really know where to start. do you have homework?” you guessed might be a decent starting point, the girl nodding wordlessly and moving to unzip her bag, pulling out a few loose worksheets as you cringed at the obvious disorganisation hidden within her backpack.

she slid the worksheets across the table as you flipped them around and scanned them, noting some were history and rest spanish language and literature. “do you have one you want to do more?” you questioned, solstråle only shrugging. “vale. or we could work on your spanish?” another silent shrug.

you could feel your patience being tested with each passing moment she remained quiet, trying to remind yourself over and over what mapi said about this taking some time, but this was rapidly seeming much more impossible than you were lead to originally believe.

“is there things you ah, struggle with? with spanish?” you questioned further, another shrug as you inhaled sharply and again counted to five in your head.

“bien. let us work through this then, I think I remember this case study.” you mumbled, scooting your chair around the table so the two of you could both read the worksheet right side up, not missing the way the older girl was fast to tense up and lean right away from you.

you tried not to be offended, subtly sniffing yourself and frowning when all you could smell was the perfume you’d spritzed yourself with, maybe it was too strong or she just had a sensitive sense of smell.

none the less taking your time you read through the first question, trying to speak slowly and clearly, well aware english was not either of your native languages. “did you bring the article?” you asked, checking the papers she’d put down and not able to find it in the small stack. 

“a yes or no would work.” you remanded when once more all you got was a shrug, followed by an eye roll and a hand shoved into the backpack.

“how do you even find the right paper in there?” you asked with a disturbed look, solstråle pausing to glare at you, mumbling something you didn’t understand and assumed was norwegian.

“here.” finally, a word, but you jumped with the force she slammed the paper down onto the desk with. 

“no, this is not it.” you scanned the first few sentences and shook your head. “well you have read it? why do you need it then?” the girl questioned bluntly and you were most taken aback by what was easily the longest sentence you’d heard leave her mouth.

“so we can answer these, because you will need quotes for these first three.” you managed to get out with a hardened jaw, flaring your nostrils as the brunette snatched the paper back and shoved it into her bag.

“solstråle. do you have the paper?” you asked firmly when a minute went by and she made no other move. once more, a muted shrug, and then you realised something you might have been overlooking.

“can you not read this? the spanish?” you asked a little more bluntly than intended, tired from a long day and what felt like a pointless exercise in patience, but it would seem you’d struck a nerve you hadn’t meant to with the taller girl none the less. 

“i can read spanish. i do not know what mapi told you but are you supposed to be helping me? because all you are doing is asking stupid questions. it has been thirty minutes and we have done nothing, this is a waste of time!” the norwegian scoffed as you stopped, sizing her up with narrowed eyes. 

“well you were late so i was already here for fifteen minutes doing nothing anyway, and i have been asking questions so i know what to help you with! but all i get is-” you pulled a face and aggressively shrugged your shoulders a few times clearly mocking the taller girl who gave you a glare. 

“alexia’s super little sister, everyone says you are so smart. can you not see i do not want your help? you want to be a doctor no? so go find someone who does!” solstråle grunted and now you were the one to scoff, pushing your chair back and shooting to your feet, rounding the table and collecting your things.

“eres un maldito idiota!” you spat, your temper well and truly unleashed now as all of your work to minimise the frustrations with the sullen girl across from you melted to nothing as your head was boiling.

“snobbete kjerring.” came the reply she knew you wouldn’t understand, your things all shoved into your bag now as you muttered angry rapid spanish under your breath, having reached the end of your rope you didn’t care if she understood you or not.

“you know i did this as a favour tonta. i have worked all day, i came right here after my shift on time. i have my own studies to do too because yes i want to be a nurse. i am smart and i know what i want to do with my life. maybe if you get your head out of your own ass engen, you might too! and you are right this is a waste of time, my time!” and with that you stormed out of the room, beelining for the bus stop and cursing every foul word you knew under the sun toward the girl you’d left behind.

~

if nobody knew you were in a mood from the way you ignored the family group chat trying to make weekend plans about alexia’s game and a barbeque and left everyone on read, it became glaringly obvious with the way the front door slammed after you as you stomped inside, alba glancing up from her phone as you dropped your bag on the table.

you threw open the refrigerator still muttering angrily under your breath and ignoring her greeting toward you, grabbing out a punnet of strawberries and swinging it harshly closed again. 

then without a word you snatched the unopened can of lemonade your sister had in her hand, flopping yourself down on the couch with a huff and another quiet angry grumble, angrily shoving a strawberry in your mouth with a scowl.

alba whistling under her breath spun around on the stool she was sat on, knowing you’d come from your study session and your current tense mood coupled with the fact you were home an hour earlier than expected was all she needed to know it clearly hadn’t gone well.

“lo que pasó?” she appeared in front of you, arms crossed and eyebrow raised as you took an aggressive sip of lemonade and shook your head.

“no quiero hablar de ello.” you grumbled, not looking at her and instead flicking through the recordings trying to find the latest episode of your favourite reality tv dating show.

“bien.” alba shrugged, taking a seat beside you and counting down in her head as you continued to button mash the poor remote in your hand. three, two, one…

“dios mío solstråle is such an asshole! first she was late without a reason or an apology, then she ignored me and refused to speak, then she would not tell me what the problem she wanted to study was? then all she did was-” once again you aggressively shrugged your shoulders up and down as your sister hid a smile behind her hand, the older girl for once not wanting to wind you up any further and knowing you needed to let this out as you rambled on and on.

“-she belongs in your class, your niños are smarter than she is at least they know how to speak and listen at the same time! imbécil estúpida. i am not doing that again! alexia can…well she can take a hike!” you decided with a snarl, alba now unable to hide the belt of laughter which left her mouth as you shot her a mean glare.

“where did you learn that saying? take a hike? qué significa eso?” your sister laughed as you rolled your eyes.

“one of your american rom coms?” alba mocked making quotations with her finger as you scowled and shoved her, admittedly having quite the fascination for seemingly silly english speaking love movies which was how you’d gotten much better at speaking and understanding it in the first place.

“do you want some advice hermanita?” alba asked after a few moments of tense silence as you shrugged, a slight snicker leaving your sisters mouth as you clocked the gesture would seem slightly hypocritical given your previous rant.

“no? vale! good luck saying no to ale after you stole half her closet diablillo.” alba held her hands up and walked away leaving you to stew in your anger a little while longer. 

though as you sat and thought and stewed, you realised some advice would not go to waste and of all people alba would probably be the most qualified to provide it.

so with a huff you stood to your feet, alba already hearing your footsteps head toward where she was sat out on the back deck soaking up the last few hours of sun before the door slid open and she glanced up.

“advise me por favor.” you sat down beside her and gestured for her to speak as your sister snatched the lemonade from your hand and took a mouthful, placing the can down out of reach and turning to face you properly.

“have you thought about how this feels for solstråle?” alba questioned at first though you could tell from her tone it was rhetorical and didn’t beg an answer.

“she is in a new country, learning a new language, at a new school, where everyone else is years and years and years ahead. then you come along when you are born here, you speak the language, you have finished school. you find things easy, but solstråle will not and maybe she also does not know what she actually needs help with fresa, only that she is struggling.” alba continued as you slowly nodded to show you were listening.

“now imagine if you had to move to norway, you had to learn norwegian but learn it mostly it in english, when spanish is your native language, and all from a girl who you don’t know with a weird accent who thinks she knows everything. then the entire plan is not even your idea but something you feel you need to do because your hermana suggested you need it, so you already go into it thinking your hermana thinks you cannot do it yourself.” alba spoke slowly as again you nodded, feeling your anger slowly melt away as the cogs of your brain ticked over.

“i do not think i know everything.” you grumbled with a huff, fixed with a look of disbelief as you rolled your eyes, maybe you could come across as a know it all sometimes. “you have a god complex fresita and it is alexia’s fault for always telling you that you are perfect.” alba quipped with a snort, silencing you with a raised eyebrow before she continued

“then this girl with a weird accent asks you lots of questions about norwegian but she asks you in english, that you probably do not know the answer to, and she has a short temper, a hot head, not much patience, and gives up after one time when she is not even trying her best. would you not be maybe a little bit frustrated? confused? embarrassed?” alba questioned again and now you knew she expected an answer as your body seemed to sag.

“sí, sería difícil, then i called her an idiota and just stormed off!” you exhaled heavily, things suddenly now a little more in perspective as you dragged your hands down your face. “está bien tonta, not everyone is built for teaching, especially not hot heads.” alba chuckled patting your knee as you peeked out from behind your hands giving her a look of annoyance.

“is there some advice coming soon puta?” “did you not hear what i just said about patience?”

“espere, mapi is calling me.” you felt your phone vibrating in your pocket, still on silent after the work day as you fished it out and clicked accept.

“hola mapi, i do not know what-” you started completely ready for the spaniard to start yelling at you but you were surprised at what followed next.

“fresa have you seen solstråle? her location cut off, she was supposed to already be home and she is not answering her phone. did you see her leave? did she drive?” mapi asked in a tone more serious than you think you’d ever heard, the edge of worry to her voice obvious as you frowned.

“no we finished up early, i did not see her leave i took the bus home about…two hours ago?” you tried to guess, mapi thanking you bluntly and hanging up before you could even say another word.

you tried to brush it off, as a teenager yourself you often made excuses not to have to come home on time, and if you weren’t so scared about driving and had your license you were certain the freedom of a car would be tempting.

but as alba began to try and lay out how you would be better to tackle your next session, you couldn’t shake the weird pin prick of something sitting at the back of your head about the stony norwegian, and just maybe you were a little concerned about if she was okay, and that if god forbid something had happened, was it partially your fault?

~

"fresa valentina putellas segura!" you looked up from your phone and exhaled heavily, wincing at the use of your full name and glaring over your shoulder toward elena who shrugged and sent you a knowing smile, busy on a phone call as you heard the car door close.

"i could have gotten a lift home with elena mami." you mumbled, groaning as another car door shut and both your sisters scrambled out of the car, clearly bickering over something as they pushed and shoved one another in their haste to get over to where you were sat.

"elena is who called me! i had to find out from her that you were at the hospital? hablas en serio?" your mami huffed, smacking the back of your head as you pulled a face and rubbed it with a scowl.

"we should go and yell at the nurses for not calling you sooner mami, she is a baby!" alexia chimed in as she and alba arrived and you closed your eyes and sighed again, looking up to the sky as your face was warmed with sunshine, trying to drown out the three lectures which washed over you from the women stood fussing around you.

"we are not at the hospital, it is a medical centre and i am almost eighteen. once you are over sixteen you can make your own medical decisions, and i am fine." you reminded with another sigh, hearing footsteps and cracking an eye open to watch your mami march away from the bench you were sat on to go and talk to elena who was now off the phone.

"you are still a baby. venga alba, get her crutches." your eldest sister ordered as you sat up properly, sharply smacking the girls hands away as she hissed and narrowed her eyes at you in a glare.

"i can get them myself! i can walk without them but they would not let me leave unless i took them, la doctora era tan dramática." you grumbled in annoyance, only having mildly sprained your ankle and insistent that everyone was over reacting from the moment you fell.

it had been a harmless accident, however it had looked a lot worse than it was.

you'd just finished taking an elderly gentlemens vitals after you'd already collected his blood, the vials labelled and stored properly out back you'd been on your way back to the room to advise the gentlemen could leave, but you'd not been paying attention to the floor.

the clinic currently had a student on for work placement week, a meek and quiet fifteen year old boy who looked terrified anytime someone spoke to him, and with the way he went pale at the sight of blood it had you all wondering just who at his school he'd wronged to end up on placement here of all places.

it would seem he'd somehow dropped and smashed a few vials of someones blood after being asked to carry them back to the storeroom, and while he was busy stumbling through apologies to the nurse he was assigned to shadow for the day, elena, he'd not made any sort of effort to clean up.

so without a warning sign of any kind at least you hadn't looked down to see what you were hurrying toward and before you could blink you'd slipped over with a loud thump and you were covered in someone else’s blood.

of course without knowing the context of what happened the moment your coworkers appeared there had been all sorts of chaos that followed, everyone checking you for wounds and cuts as patients were hurried back into the collection rooms and nobody listened to the student trying to stammer out what had actually happened.

none the less you'd managed to land awkwardly on your ankle and not able to put much pressure on it your boss mateo had insisted you go get it x-rayed to rule it out of being anything serious, shutting down your protests with a firm look and ordering elena to drive you.

so thankfully with spare scrubs always handy you'd been able to change, not able to think of much worse than sitting at the medical centre covered in blood and the looks that would attract when you explained the issue was only your ankle.

you'd managed to charm your way out of anyone at work calling your mami, assuring she would be busy at her own job with her phone in her locker, and you'd just call one of your sisters once you knew what was wrong not wanting to panic anyone without a need.

however elena knowing you all too well knew you'd try to keep this to yourself and as you were being x-rayed it seemed she had slyly called eli to inform her of what had happened. which of course in your family may as well have been a bat signal for everyone to panic and over-react, exactly what you'd wanted to avoid in the first place.

"put your arms around my neck pequeña." alexia instructed as you gave her a look of disbelief. "alexia. eres sordo? i said i can walk myself!" you huffed, trying to stand up as alba pushed you back down onto the bench, snatching your crutches and she was off toward the car.

"cuídate chica, i will let mateo know what happened and i am sure he will give you the rest of the week off to recover. after all we have the student to help out!" elena appeared and squeezed your shoulder, grinning at the glare you gave her as she winked and hurried away to her own car before you could say a word, eli calling out another thank you as she did.

"and you will be taking the time off fresa." your mami’s gaze shifted to you and warned sharply as you groaned, already over all of the fussing yet you knew it had barely begun.

"estoy bien! i can work in reception and sit at the front desk, do admin and stay off my ankle and-" you tried to argue, falling silent at the fierce looks sent your way both by eli and alexia, crossing your arms and scowling.

"sí, me tomaré tiempo libre." you begrudgingly agreed with a sigh, eli nodding happily before she hurried off into the medical centre ignoring your yells after her that you already had everything you needed.

"derecha hermanita, arms around my neck." alexia repeated herself expectantly as she leaned down a little closer and once more you scoffed. "i can walk! aléjate de mí." you growled, trying to stand and grunting as again you were pushed back down.

"alexia!" "you are not walking to the car." "vale, i will sleep on this bench then." you puffed out stubbornly with a shake of your head.

"deja de ser idiota! you can put your arms around my neck and i will carry you, or i will pick you up over my shoulder como un bebé pequeño." your sister threatened seriously and judging by the look on her face you knew she was far from joking.

so mumbling about how embarrassing this was you did as she requested, knowing the alternative was worse, alexias arms wrapping around you as you were picked up and off the bench, were grateful there weren't many people around to see this as your sister carried you fireman style to the car.

"esto es ridículo." you muttered bitterly, alexia going as far as to do your seat belt up for you as alba sat in the front and your mami reappeared, a copy of your x-ray and some other papers in hand as alexia sat in the passenger seat fussing over you and you squeezed your eyes closed.

this was going to be far more painful than your ankle was.

~

"por el amor de dios it is a sprain! a mild sprain! not a break, or a fracture, or a-" but your protests fell on deaf ears as alexia lowered you down onto the sofa and ignored you, chattering away to alba about everything they assumed you needed.

you’d already had to fight them off not to shower and dress you like a child when you’d returned home, both girls settling for hovering right outside the bathroom door like guard dogs.

with eli’s help you utilised the shower chair she’d refused to touch throughout her own recovery to take the pressure off your ankle, sighing in relief as you’d washed the days events off of you.

"elevate and ice!" your mami called out from the kitchen where she was already prepping things for lunch, alba tossing alexia an ice pack, a tea towel already slung over your eldest sisters shoulder as your jaw clenched.

you hissed as alexia grabbed your ankle, lifting your leg to slide a pillow beneath and giving you a look. "mild?" she scoffed as you glared and grumbled something under your breath about how even mild sprains hurt when someones nails dig into them.

"mild, read the papers tonta! mami has about four copies." you muttered with a roll of your eyes, wincing as alexia wrapped a tea towel around your ankle to secure the ice pack to it, apologising quietly as she adjusted your ankle to sit comfortably on the pillow it was propped on.

“this is like when diablillo broke her toe.” alba chuckled at the memory, alexia trying to hide a wince as your eyes locked in on her and narrowed into a glare. “and whose fault was that?”

eli had been enjoying a couple of hours of peace, alba not yet home from school, alexia at training and a much younger you dead asleep in bed after a psychology appointment, pulled out of school at lunch time to attend.

to try and take your mind off of the contents of the appointment, which given you were five years old and learning what grief was in the wake of your papi’s passing were always emotionally taxing, eli had taken you grocery shopping.

big mistake.

you’d always been a very confident, outgoing and sure of yourself child, having to be in order to keep up with your big loud family and especially your strong willed sisters. so it was no surprise that the moment eli pulled out her list you were taking it off of her and charging away.

but you weren’t good at following the list so nearly every second thing you tossed into the cart, your mami took out and put back, sighing at your protests and attempts to rationalise the purchase, list taken out of your possession and an agreement made if you wouldn’t sit in the cart you had to have a hand on it at all times.

but the other part of that agreement, granted you stuck to it which was becoming increasingly hard given everything you wanted was just out of reach with how eli strategically parked the cart in each aisle, was that at the end of it you could choose something as a reward.

your mami already knew what your choice would be so it was no surprise when finally as everything was ticked off the list and you were given the green light you raced right to the produce section, eli lifting you up onto her hip so you could properly survey the punnets and punnets of strawberries in front of you.

however when almost twenty minutes later when you still hadn’t made a choice your mami was starting to lose patience, gently trying to hurry you along as she watched you carefully survey each and every strawberry with narrowed eyes.

finally, one was chosen, and it had seemed the grocery trip coupled with your appointment earlier in the afternoon had wiped you out, falling asleep in the car on the way home as your mami slowly woke you, hand in hers and leading you to your bedroom where you crashed out right on top of the covers, red tightly in hand.

but now a couple of hours later it seemed eli’s peace was about to end as alba came tearing in the door, chattering away on her phone and your mami’s eyes rolled watching her once neatly organised kitchen become anything but as your hormone filled teenage sister piled a plate high with some post school fuel.

alexia was next, flying through the door and bringing jenni with her of course, their chattering filling the house as alba spoke louder in return on the phone, retreating to her room with a slam of her door as the noise jolted you awake.

your mami shook her head, watching your sister and her girlfriend rummage through the refrigerator just as alba had done moments ago, the once fully stocked shelves already beginning to clear out in just a matter of a few minutes.

everyone greeting eli the woman was grateful she was still able to sit and read her book, both your sisters old enough not to need her attention the way you did, but moving to the living room and with her head buried in literature she missed alexia grab out your specially selected strawberries.

however it was the very first thing you noticed as you tiredly padded into the kitchen, rubbing your eyes and blinking to try and clear them of sleep, jenni noticing you first with a grin and bending down to open her arms for a hug. you were more than ready to wander into them however before you could take another step alexia bit into a strawberry and you gasped, suddenly wide awake.

“ale those are mine! volver a ponerlos!” you demanded angrily, stomping on over as your sister chuckled and shook her head, jenni standing again with a defeated sigh that you’d rejected her hug.

“you do not own all the fresones in this house monstruito.” alexia grinned, biting into another one just to wind you up as you huffed and glared up at her, she was always at her most annoying after she’d trained and was full of endorphins as your mami tried to explain to you.

“i own those! they are mine i bought them today at the market with mami!” you tried to explain, attempting to climb up onto the counter to grab them but your little feet wouldn’t grip onto the stone walls of the counter as you watched on uselessly as now jenni took a bite.

“oh do you want one?” alexia smirked, one hand pressed to your forehead holding you off as she held a strawberry down to you but just out of reach, grinning as you reached for it with frustrated little grunts.

alexia nodded for jenni to tip out the rest of the punnet into a small bowl on the counter, grabbing the seemingly empty container they’d once been in and letting you go, putting what appeared to be the last strawberry into her mouth with a content sigh.

“aquí monstruito.” your sister handed you the empty container as your jaw dropped and you looked up at her in disbelief, a smug smile on the older girls face as jenni nudged her in the back that maybe this was taking the teasing a little too far.

letting out a war cry you charged at her but alexia already anticipated the attack, easily holding you off again with a hand covering your face, words muffled against her palm as your arms swung trying to connect with any part of her body.

but when that didn’t work you resorted to plan b, winding your leg up and kicking at her as hard as you could, your foot bouncing off of her bare shin and you felt something crack, stopping your movement all together as alexia’s grin was wiped away watching your face pale.

“hey hey hey hermanita-” but right as she squatted down to try and check in you let out a blood curdling scream, falling to the ground and holding your foot as suddenly the kitchen was full of people, everyone fussing over you as you pushed both of your sisters away, only accepting eli’s arms which scooped you up and sat you on the counter.

“no! te odio!” you screamed at alexia who tried to move in to hug you, the eighteen year old flinching away as if she’d been burned, alba moving in instead as you pushed your face into her stomach and gripped her school shirt in your hands as eli ever so gently moved your leg, dodging the way it kicked out in reflex.

“oh mi nena, i think you might have broken your big toe.”

safe to say your sisters both learned a very valuable lesson about how far to take things when pushing you around and teasing you that day, alexia especially.

"do you not have anything else better to do than fuss and annoy me capitana?" you grumbled sarcastically, eyes rolling yet again as your sister fluffed and prepped the cushions behind your back now, karate chopping them making you snicker with slight amusement at the concentration on her face as she did so.

"tiene razón mija, look at the time you should go, you have that meeting!" eli called out in agreement as alexia hummed. "and don't you have niños to dumb down?" you leaned back and looked up at your middle sister who was stood behind the couches, a brush and tie in hand as she grabbed your hair and started to scrape it up into a bun despite the fact your arms were fine and you could easily do it yourself.

"alba!" you yelped as the flat side of the brush smacked against your forehead. "don't hit her puta she's hurt!" alexia reached over and shoved the younger girl who rolled her eyes and tilted your head back to kiss your forehead in a silent apology as you made an indignant huff and jerked away from her.

"student free day." alexia explained on alba's behalf, seemingly satisfied with how she'd smacked and poked the cushions into order behind you, and you had to admit you were quite comfortable.

"if you need anything you tell mami or alba, do not get up!" your sister warned sternly, giving you the firm captains look you knew struck fear into her teammates but did nothing much for you as you raised your eyebrows in acknowledgement.

"fresa valentina-" "bien i will not move! váyase and stop with the middle name." you groaned shooing your hands for her to leave. "te quiero, do not do anything stupid!" she warned shoving your head to the side as you mocked her under your breath.

"more like anything else stupid." alba chimed in from the kitchen, your middle finger popping up at her as your mami clicked her tongue in disapproval.

"what?" you sighed as still alexia stayed standing in front of you expectantly. "i am not saying it back." you turned on the tv with a shrug, browsing for what to watch as your sister huffed and finally moved out of the way.

overhearing alexia tell eli that she and olga would be back for dinner you groaned, knowing everyone would be fussing over you despite the fact you were fine.

“can olga come and you stay home? your home.” you suggested, your mami clicking her tongue again with a huff as now alexia flipped you off making you grin and return the gesture. 

“dibujar!” alba cried out as she joined in, now all three of you using both your hands to flip one another off with matching grins as eli sighed, having flashbacks to when you were all much younger.

“basta de esto! I raised you three better than this.” your mami smacked a wooden spoon against the counter as all three of you flinched at the memories which came with the sound and immediately dropped your hands as the shorter women nodded, quite pleased that still worked as alexia yelled another goodbye and finally made her way out.

~

“elena you are not taking me to my bedroom, i’m fine.” you huffed a couple days later, your sisters and mami both having been hovering relentlessly all week which was more than starting to grate on you, not even allowed to go and have some peace and quiet in your own room, banished to the sofa like a prisoner all day everyday where someone could have eyes on you at all times.

you knew your mami was perhaps getting the most from this, and though she would never admit it you could tell that after so long of her being the one who was being fussed over and watched like a hawk it was both a relief and a joy for that attention to be diverted elsewhere. 

a bonus that it so happened to be you, the one who was perhaps most guilty of fussing over her since she left hospital given you were the last of your sisters still living at home.

“let me just help you walk there, since you refuse to use the crutches.” elena rolled her eyes, nodding at the crutches in her hand which indeed you’d not touched, insistent that you could walk albeit with a small limp.

it had taken a lot of begging and pleading but with it being one of your friends birthdays you’d been invited out to dinner with them, eli eventually agreeing you could go so long as you promised to let her know when you were on your way back.

you’d done that, sending her a text message as you left the restaurant with elena, but when you hadn’t heard back and given it was nearly eleven thirty at night, you assumed she’d likely fallen asleep.

“because I do not need them, and I do not need help!” you huffed, elena giving up with a sigh and carefully placing your crutches just inside by the front door, hugging you goodbye with a teasing donkey noise, everyone having teased you were ‘stubborn as an ass’ all night as you bit back a smile and gave her a sarcastic wave goodbye.

closing the door after her you exhaled in relief as with your mami seemingly asleep and your sisters at their own homes you finally had a moment of peace to yourself without someone asking if you needed anything, fixing a cushion, getting more ice, checking the swelling.

but still, despite the peace nature called and with a sigh you started to hobble your way to the bathroom, the swelling having gone down but the ankle itself still quite tender despite the fact it could bare a lot more weight now. 

your eyes flickered momentarily toward the crutches sitting abandoned just an arms length away, knowing really you should use them as it would make this whole process a lot faster. however your friends weren’t wrong you were stubborn, and determined to prove even just to yourself that this was only a mild sprain and you were getting better you began an arduous journey toward the bathroom.

you were doing okay at first, grabbing onto things and allowing your body to lean on your dominant foot, able to get all the way to the bathroom all on your own, sitting down on the toilet with a relieved exhale.

but it was getting up that suddenly the situation drastically changed.

when you’d showered earlier you’d left your wet towel on the ground, nothing unusual as given it was only you and eli living here now and she had her own bathroom there was no one to complain about it.

however too focused on hobbling over to the sink you’d failed to notice, and if anything this whole week had just been one huge life lesson to learn to look down a little more often, and with a blink you felt yourself slip, head hitting the ground and back thumping against the tile floor.

but all you were focused on was the way you felt your ankle go snap, pain shooting up your leg as if it was on fire as you groaned loudly, trying to sit up but grunting and collapsing back to the ground.

“mami? mami? mami!” you tried to yell out through gritted teeth, calling out a few more times and groaning as the pain worsened and the room began to spin a little. feeling something digging into your hip you managed to pull your phone out with a hiss, yelling out again for eli but not hearing anything.

so knowing really there wasn’t anything else you could do you clicked on the contact for the one person you thought might answer if you called. 

your heartbeat sounding in your ears and vision a little blurred you hesitated, flashbacks of all the calls you’d made to her where she hadn’t answered, stomach churning with a mix of nausea, worry and rejection, questioning if maybe you were wrong and she wouldn’t answer, leaving you alone again.

but eventually the pain won out and you clicked call, sighing with a grimace as the dial tone sounded once, twice, three times, four times and- 

“hola? pequeña? estás bien?” “ale? por favour por favor i need help, hermana i need you!”

[hiddenavenues]

hii !

i saw ur post about fluffy Logan oneshots so i have one :D if this is not what ur looking for, pls feel free to ignore !!

maybe touch starved reader who constantly clings to Logan and he asks about it and reader gets nervous that they pushed a boundary and stop only for Logan to be like “wtf no i love when u cling to me, pls keep doing it”

no pressure at all, have a nice evening / morning !!

A Soft Place to Land

a/n: Hi Anon! Thank you for your request. I am so sorry this has taken so long, life went kind of crazy for a second, but it's sorting itself out now! I hope you enjoy the drabble <3

Logan Howlett x TouchStarved!GN!Reader

CW: some mentions of jealousy, reader seems pretty anxious, just some good ole' fluff

Watching how Scott and Jean held each other, or even how the kids would comfort one another, you could feel jealousy curling around your mind at the absentminded tenderness in every touch. You’d spend countless nights awake, craving the touch of another while you wrapped your arms around yourself, fingers pressing into your skin just to feel something.

It gnawed at you, quiet and constant, slipping into the quiet spaces of your mind when you were alone. You’d close your eyes and imagine what it might feel like to rest your head on someone’s shoulder, to let the warmth of another’s touch seep into your skin and quiet the restlessness within you. It was always fleeting, a memory of something you've only had in fleeting moments.

Then there was Logan. The brooding, gruff exterior everyone seemed to shy away from became your refuge. It started as fleeting touches, knuckles grazing against his when you walked, shoulders bumping when you sat together. Before you knew it, you found yourself constantly lingering in his presence, your touch becoming more purposeful. Tracing shapes into the palm of his hand during long meetings or leaning on his shoulder after a mission, his head resting on top of yours. It was rare for you to be seen far apart, the school knew you were bound to be nearby if Logan was around.

You’re not sure when it started, the constant burn beneath your skin only satisfied by his touch. You started finding ways to get him to touch you, asking for help with your hair or applying bandaids. Now, you stood before Logan with a bracelet in hand, feigning an excuse of needing help to put it on. You didn’t miss the way Logan notched a brow at your request, eyeing the bracelet he knows you’ve put on yourself countless times. You fiddled with the jewelry in your palm, gaze nervously darting around his face as a familiar pit forms in your stomach at his hesitation. A heartbeat later, Logan opens the door wide for you to enter, knuckles grazing as you pass him. 

Logan’s fingers daftly inspect the jewelry before draping it over your wrist, each graze of his fingers deepening the blush on your cheeks. Your heartbeat pounded in your ears and from the smirk on Logan’s face, you had a feeling he could hear how it quickened. 

“Why you always around me, bub?” Logan asks nonchalantly as he clasps the bracelet, fingers still ghosting over your arm. 

You swallow, feeling the words catch in your throat as you search for a response. You hadn’t considered Logan noticing, much less him asking you outright. The question hangs in the air as his eyes search your face, something curious and unguarded in them. You struggle to find a response that doesn’t make you sound desperate and scare him off.

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to,” You murmur, taking your arm away from his touch, clutching it to your chest as if to slow your racing heart. You look away, face burning beneath the weight of his gaze. “I’ll stop. Must be kinda creepy, constantly hovering around you.” You force a weak laugh.

A beat passes, the crushing silence presses against your chest, wrapping around you until each breath feels like a struggle. When you gather the courage to meet his eyes again, his expression has softened, the usual guarded look slipping. He shifts closer, bringing his face level with yours, and the intensity in his gaze holds you captive. 

“Don’t do that,” Logan’s breath fans your face with each word, mouth inches from yours. “Ain’t nobody said I didn’t like it.” His words are rough, each one lifting a weight from your chest. His eyes dart away to study the floor as his cheeks flush a deep crimson. “Ain’t used to people hanging around this much but… I don’t mind so much with you.” 

A pause before he shrugs as if trying to shake off the weight of his words. “Guess you don’t bother me as much as most folks do.” Logan straightens but doesn’t step back. His face remained aloof, but his cheeks were still rosy as vulnerability oozed from his gaze. “So quit worrying about ‘creeping me out.’ You’re good.” 

Logan’s kind words curled around your heart, a smile gracing your lips as you look at him. “So what I’m hearing is you're saying I can bug you even more now?” You joke, nudging his shoulder. 

He scoffs, dramatically rolling his eyes. “I wouldn’t push it, bub.”

---

Likes and reblogs are appreciated :)

[leahwllmsn]

good graces

alexia putellas x reader

word count: 3.4k

You dislike Alexia Putellas with everything in you. Or maybe you’ve been crushing on her all this time. Who knows.

The first thing you noticed upon entering the club was the sea of people that made it hard for you to even get to the booth. The music was blaring in your ears and the smell of smoke wafted towards your nose. A strobe light shone against your eyes, making you squint and stop in your tracks. Kika was walking ahead of you and you quickly grabbed onto her hand, forcing her to stop as well.

“What’s wrong?” Kika spoke towards your ear.

You shook your head, pinching the bridge of your nose. “I’m fine. Got disoriented for a second.”

“Okay.” Kika turned around, still keeping her hand linked with yours. You let yourself get dragged, Kika manoeuvring the both of you easily around the crowd.

It felt like forever until you finally reached the booth where the rest of the Barcelona players were occupying. Everyone was exchanging their ‘hi’s and ‘nice to meet you’s and you couldn’t focus on any of that. Not when you could feel her gaze on you.

The season was starting next week and since you and a couple of girls were new to the club, Patri decided to host a night out to introduce the newcomers. You knew a couple of the Spanish girls, having met them during international matches and exchanged contacts throughout your years in professional football.

There was one person, however, that… you didn’t really know how to explain it. Was she your enemy? Frenemy? You didn’t exactly hate her… But you didn’t exactly like her either. You’re pretty sure the feeling was mutual.

But it wasn’t that negative, soul-sucking, I-hope-she-dies type of hatred—at least, to you it wasn’t. It was more of… you couldn’t stand the stupid smirk on her face, it was infuriating, and even more so when she pushed you to the ground during matches or worse—when she completely humiliated you by nutmegging you and scoring a goal.

The smirk she sent your way after that was… maddening. You wanted to punch her, or something. You didn’t though. Instead you scowled at her throughout the rest of the game and you ignored her when everyone was shaking hands.

So you never really know where you stood with Alexia Putellas. The only words exchanged between you two were the heated curses on the pitch. Now that you two were going to be teammates, it was going to change the dynamics between you, definitely. You didn’t know in what way though.

You were never able to pinpoint why you disliked her so much, maybe it was because of the way she walked around the pitch like she owned the game before it even started. Like she was so confident that she would be winning—which was sexy as hell, yes, but it angered you. Because you were going to win, obviously. 

So maybe it was a good thing that you would be on the same team now. Maybe you could finally co-exist.

The situation had been on your mind ever since you signed for Barcelona. The uncertainty of it all was throwing you off. So you made a mental note to avoid her until you could figure it out.

Whatever ‘it’ was.

Your mantra before entering the club was to look away, to not spare her a glance. Not under any circumstances should you look her way. Period. 

It should be simple. It was simple.

All thoughts completely flew out the window the moment you arrived at the booth and you could feel Alexia’s eyes on you.

Ever since the first time you shook hands with her on the field (you were fifteen and she was sixteen), you had always known when her eyes were on you. Call it intuition or sixth sense or whatever.

So you had no choice but to look at her.

(She looked as good as you remembered.)

Your eyes locked for a second before Alexia broke away first, her eyes falling down to your left hand—your hand that was tightly intertwined with Kika’s. You saw the frown she sent your way and you sent her one back. Was it so hard to smile at someone?

You felt a tug at your hand and realised that Kika was motioning for you to take a seat. You glanced up once more at Alexia, but her gaze was now focused on the drink in front of her. 

You slid into the booth next to Kika and accepted the drink that Pina held out to you, muttering a ‘thanks’. Once you did, you felt the pair of hazel eyes from across the table back on you. 

Your eye contact lasted longer this time, you didn’t know why Alexia was looking at you like that. It was a gaze that felt so intense, making you instantly chug your drink. 

“Whoa,” you heard someone say, a giggle following after. “No rush, chica. We have all night.”

“Patri, nice to see you again,” you shouted over the music.

“You too!” She lifted a bottle of vodka, silently asking you if you wanted some, to which you nodded in reply. Patri took your now empty glass and poured some into it. “We’re out of shot glasses, sorry! This one over here,” she pointed a thumb at Alexia. “Accidentally elbowed them to the ground and now we only get plastic cups!”

You couldn’t help it and joined in on the laughter. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Alexia’s head snap towards you. You gulped the drink Patri gave you and continued on with your staring contest with the captain. You raised an eyebrow at her, she simply threw that signature smirk of hers your way.

Infuriating.

“Can they actually do that?” asked Jana.

“Apparently!” Patri answered back.

Mapi placed her arm around Alexia’s shoulder, “You have to excuse this one. She had some pre-drinks at her place so she’s already well on her way to being extra drunk.” After a moment, she added. “Although, she became extremely calm these past few minutes. Are you okay?” Mapi teased.

Alexia playfully shoved her away. “It’s not my fault they didn’t know the risks when they decided to open a club.”

You felt Kika bump her shoulder against yours. “I can see why you’re so hung up on her, to be honest.”

At that, you pulled back. You gave Kika a look that was a mixture of ‘what the hell are you talking about’ and ‘I think I’m not drunk enough for this conversation’.

Kika rolled her eyes and leaned closer, speaking directly in your ears. “She’s ridiculously attractive.”

You placed your hand on Kika’s face, shoving her away. You could feel Kika’s laughter against your palm and you pulled your hand back.

“Y/n—” Kika started, but you interrupted her.

“Nope,” you took another gulp of your drink. “Talk to me again about this topic when I’m drunk. Actually, no. Don’t talk to me about this topic at all because there is nothing to talk about in the first place!”

Kika shook her head fondly and wrapped her arm around your neck, bringing your head towards her so she could whisper in your ear. “I think you should drink faster then, because your girl looks like she’s going to kill me and we need to do something about it.”

You pinched her thigh. “She’s not my girl.”

“Ouch! That was the part you got? Not her wanting to kill me?”

“Stop being ridiculous then. Why would she want to kill you?”

Kika grinned. “Probably because to everyone else it looks like we’re about to kiss.”

Your eyes widened at your proximity and quickly shoved the brunette, causing her to lean backwards into Jana, who looked amused at the two of you.

“Sorry,” Kika whined. “Y/n’s fault!”

Just when you were about to say something back, you felt your phone vibrate in your pocket. A text message from an unknown number.

Hola

It’s Alexia.

You glanced up at her, giving her a confused look. Alexia just gave a slight nod of her head, flicking her eyes to your phone. You sighed. This was going to be fun.

you: how did you get my number?

unknown number: Perks of being the capitana.

you: why are you even texting me? you’re literally in front of me

unknown number: Oh am I? Thank you for pointing that out.

you: you’re as annoying as I remembered

you: so ? is there a reason why you’re texting me

annoying capi: Because you are too far away. It’s so loud here. I haven’t gotten the chance to talk to you.

annoying capi: I have captain duties

you: to talk to me?

annoying capi: Yes

You almost rolled your eyes at that. What kind of captain duties was this? Pere would likely introduce Alexia as your captain on your first day. There was nothing urgent that any captain-teammate talk had to be done now.

You just hoped that she wasn’t planning on kicking you out of the club, or any other evil things you couldn’t think of. You stared at her, somewhere between a glare and an interested look. Only one way to find out.

you: I’m about to grab a drink at the bar

annoying capi: Is this an invitation?

you: am I going by myself or are you coming with?

“Y/n and I are grabbing more drinks,” Alexia announced. “Does anyone want anything?”

Everyone shook their heads and with that Alexia slid out of the booth. She outstretched her hand towards you and you stared down at it. There was no way that Alexia was asking you to hold her hand, because that would be ridiculous, and frankly, you weren’t sure if you were ready to know what it feels like to hold Alexia’s hand—

“Dios mío,” Alexia reached out and grabbed your wrist. You didn’t have time to react and the next thing you knew, you were being pulled to the bar.

Alexia’s grasp on your wrist was tight, you felt all tingly as more seconds passed by and Alexia’s grip never faltered. 

You inwardly cringe at yourself for feeling like that towards a… a frenemy (you still didn’t know what you two were).

When you reached the bar, Alexia finally let go and you kind of missed the warm feeling Alexia’s hold gave you.

“What’s your drink?” Alexia asked.

“Uhm…”

The place was crowded, which was definitely good for the business, but you decided that it was very not good for you. Because with the way Alexia was leaning sideways against the counter, arms crossed, eyebrows raised at you—Alexia was so close that you couldn’t think of anything, except the way her eyes looked even more heavenly at night (not that you noticed. You were too busy marking her during games, you definitely had no time to admire the way the sunlight made her eyes shine even brighter).

“Do you do that a lot?” Alexia asked once she finished talking to the bartender.

When you still hadn’t answered, Alexia pursed her lips and blew on your face. “Boo.”

Your eyes widened. “W-what was that for?”

“You’re zoning out again,” Alexia rolled her eyes at you.

“No I wasn’t,” you tried your best to sound calm despite your racing heartbeat. 

Alexia smelled like alcohol and a perfume that you knew was from Chanel (you had the same one at home) and you knew you weren’t supposed to let your mind wander, but you couldn’t help but think about how it would feel like to have Alexia pressed up against you. Like, really pressed up against you. 

How her lips would feel on—

“You’re doing it again,” Alexia noted.

You blinked a few times. What the hell were you thinking? You couldn’t think of Alexia like that. The thought made you shiver. You two disliked each other. “I’m doing what?”

“Spacing out,” Alexia looked amused. “Something on your mind?”

“Just the usual,” you replied, looking anywhere but those eyes.

“And what is the usual to you?”

You let out a small laugh. “Are you always this nosy? I don’t see you texting Kika or Pajor and asking for a one-on-one.”

Alexia shrugged. “Maybe I’m just interested in you.”

At that, you looked at Alexia and raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

“I don’t know, I just am. I can’t pinpoint it.”

You narrowed your eyes. Was she flirting with you? “Is this you talking to me as my captain or is this something else?” Alexia was about to reply when you cut her off. “Is this where you say something nice about me but then talk shit a second later?” you paused. “Don’t you have a girlfriend?”

Maybe that was the wrong thing to say because the next thing you knew, Alexia was laughing. It was the first time you’ve heard her laugh. You didn’t want to think about the tug in your heart or the smile making its way to your lips. “What does that have to do with anything?” Alexia asked you.

You crossed your arms against your chest. “It sounded like you were flirting with me.”

“I could mean being interested in you in a non-romantic sense,” Alexia refuted. “I am going to be your capitana after all.”

“Mhmm, sure,” you looked around the bar. “I think you’re lying.”

Alexia looked amused. “Why do you think that?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know, I just do. I can’t pinpoint it.”

“Using my words against me, I see.” 

You cheekily smiled at her and she did the same. Alexia actually smiled at you. It was a miracle. First you made her laugh, then you made her smile. You were on a roll.

Not that it mattered. You couldn’t care less, really.

Suddenly remembering that you didn’t tell her what drink you wanted, you looked at the bartender then back at her, “Did you order for me? Hope it’s nothing poisonous. We’re about to play on the same team, you can stop trying to kill me on the field now.”

Alexia scoffed. “I never acted like I wanted to kill you.”

“I beg to differ but sure,” you couldn’t believe that you were enjoying a conversation with Alexia Putellas. “I never told you my drink order, so if you got me something I don’t like, you’re paying for it.”

Alexia scrunched her nose at you. “I thought I was paying for it. I am a gentlewoman after all.”

You hummed. “Does this work on all women?”

“It’s Sex on the Beach, by the way,” Alexia ignored your question. “What I ordered for you.”

You raised an eyebrow at that. Oh this can definitely be considered flirting. “Why Sex on the Beach?”

Alexia just shrugged in response.

“That’s my favourite,” you told her. “Just for your information.”

“Really?” Alexia grinned at you. (What a sight it was.) “I am so good at this.”

“Sure. You probably chose that drink so you could flirt with me.”

“Is that a problem?”

You looked at her questioningly. “That you got my favourite cocktail right on the first try?”

Alexia laughed again, but this time there wasn’t the usual teasing tone when she spoke. “You’re so dense sometimes.”

“Thanks,” you drew out. “I guess.”

“What I meant was… is that a problem if I was flirting with you?”

You weren't expecting that answer. This was definitely not the captain-teammate talk you were expecting, nor was this the type of conversation you were expecting from your frenemy. “Uh,” you stammered. “With the fact that you have a girlfriend, yeah kind of.”

Alexia stared at you for a second, before she looked away. When she turned to you again, a coy smile was present on her lips. “You’re right. That was terrible. Sorry, please don’t tell my non-existent girlfriend about this.”

Oh? You tried to hide the smile that was making its way to your face. “Don’t worry. I don’t know your non-existent girlfriend enough to snitch on you.”

The bartender interrupted you with your drinks and you gulped half of yours in one go. You needed to be more intoxicated with the way this conversation was going.

“I probably sound like a terrible girlfriend,” Alexia said, placing her card back in her wallet after paying for your drinks.

“Hm? How so?”

“I’m literally flirting with another woman here, even though my girlfriend, our three kids, and two dogs are waiting for me at our mansion,” Alexia rolled out dramatically, you laughed at how ridiculous she was.

“So you were flirting with me.”

Alexia rolled her eyes, looking down. She looked… shy? This was new. You were enjoying this very much. “I never said such a thing.”

“What?” You looked at her in disbelief. “Alexia, you just said ‘I’m literally flirting with another woman’.”

Alexia shrugged, taking a gulp of her drink. “Maybe I did, maybe I didn’t.”

You had to keep on reminding yourself that Alexia was your frenemy. You two disliked each other. Whatever this was… it was a momentary lapse in judgement. A drunk night out. You weren’t into Alexia like that and she was definitely, totally just playing with you. But looking at the blonde in front of you—how Alexia was doing something as simple as swirling her straw in her drink—you never wanted to do something stupid as much as right now.

“You know,” you started. “If you didn’t have a girlfriend, I would totally kiss you.”

You were only toying with her of course. You didn’t actually want to kiss her.

Alexia choked on her drink. “I’m sorry, what?” she looked at you wide-eyed.

You smirked, it was a nice turn of events, having Alexia be the one stuttering instead of you. “You heard me.”

“Well,” you saw Alexia gulp and place her drink on the bar. “I guess you’re in luck then.” Alexia averted her eyes down to your lips. “My non-existent girlfriend just broke up with me,” she pouted dramatically. Damn it. You were trying so hard not to look at her lips. “You, on the other hand, is a terrible date.”

You looked confused. “Me?”

Alexia nodded. “Flirting with me when your date is right there,” she tilted her head in the direction of where your friends were sitting. “Kika?”

You laughed at that. Was Alexia actually jealous? “Am I sensing some jealousy here, Putellas?”

“Why would I be?” Alexia scoffed, the faint blush on her cheeks visible despite the dark lighting of the club. Oh this was so much fun.

“Is that why you’re always so hostile towards me on the pitch, Capi? Do you actually have a crush on me? Asking me out would work just fine, you know.”

“I’m not…” Alexia crossed her arms. “I’m not jealous and I definitely do not have a crush on you. Ridícula.”

You could feel the effects of the alcohol, because you could never be this bold otherwise. You stepped forward, tracing a finger down Alexia’s forearm.

“Uh,” Alexia stammered.

“It’s so funny,” you whispered in her ear. “To have the mighty Alexia Putellas speechless for once.”

You tapped Alexia’s cheek and leaned back.

Alexia just kept on staring at you for a few seconds, her mouth stuttering to say something.

“I’m going to order another drink,” you said, gulping down the last of your cocktail. “Do you want something?”

Alexia finally regained her composure and straightened her back. “Yeah, yeah. Sure.”

You waved the bartender over and told him your order. You turned to Alexia with an expectant look. “Well? What do you want?”

“Ah. Are you on the menu?” Alexia answered, giving you her best innocent look.

It took a second for you to realise what Alexia said, and when you did, your mouth dropped open. 

Before you could reply, Alexia leaned in and whispered in your ear. “I always win these games, cariño,” the hot breath against your ear causing you to shiver. “See you back there.” Alexia winked and turned around, leaving you to stare at her retreating figure with your mouth still agape and your heart thumping wildly against your chest.

You hated her so much.

[nezuscribe]

Arranged Marriage! Gojo who introduces you to Lady Shoko, with the hopes that you two would become friends.

Shoko who does just that and becomes a close personal friend of yours. She takes you shopping in the local town, gossips with you over tea and strolls around the estate with you (concealing a laughing when you run into Arranged Marriage! Gojo who tries to steal a little more of your attention back while he’s sparring. )

Arranged Marriage! Gojo who’s eating his own words wishing he could take back introducing you to Shoko, but one look at your happy face while Shoko helps you get dolled up for the evening and he’s thinking it’s not going to kill him to share the smallest fraction of time that could’ve been spent with him instead.

(He very much approves of the dresses Shoko has picked out, thinks they compliment you so well. He’s shoving a little extra gold in your pouch without you knowing for the next time you join Shoko in the shopping districts)

ugh yes for sure i see arranged!gojo doing this

he tells you about one of his old friends, shoko, and how he knows the two of you would get along well. he's seen you alone if not with him, and he knows you need a friend, even if you don't say it, so he invites shoko to spend some time at the estate

you're tentative at first. she seems cold and serious but melts to you very quickly, instantly realizing why gojo fell in love with you. so she makes haste with teaching you all the things you should've known earlier, taking you on day trips to the town nearby, and helping you get a new wardrobe.

she giggles behind her hand whenever the two of you run into gojo, sees how he slightly puffs his chest out for you, hoping you notice his muscles. you're literally none the wiser, pointing out a food stain on his tunic.

she becomes the friend you never had, and it's such a simple force that gojo tries not to feel jealous over it, knows you need this more than anything.

that doesn't mean he doesn't pout when you stop coming around for training, and it just means that he has to show off even more when you do.

[bookwormjust]

Subtle change of your scent (established relationship with Azriel, the start of your pregnancy)

After a long, exhausting day of shopping with Feyre, you were curled up on the couch at home, reading a book. The warmth of the fire crackled softly in the hearth, the rhythmic flipping of pages creating a comforting ambiance. You sighed, feeling the contentment of finally being home. Feyre had insisted on spoiling everyone for Solstice, and the day had been filled with laughter, joy, and plenty of gifts. Now, it was time to relax.

Azriel had been out with his brothers, enjoying some time together after a long week of missions. You hadn’t heard him come in, so when the front door softly closed, you didn’t immediately look up, absorbed in your book.

But Azriel, as always, noticed everything. He stepped into the room, his shadows slipping silently into the corners, but it was the change in the air that stopped him in his tracks. His steps faltered as he paused, his sharp senses picking up something new, something that made his heart skip a beat.

Your scent—it was different. The familiar notes of it, the one he had known for so long and was so intimately connected with, had shifted. It was still you, still the essence that made you *you*, but there was something more now. A new depth, a richness to it. And underneath it all, something faint but undeniable—his scent, mixed with yours, and a new, blossoming presence.

Azriel’s breath caught in his throat as realization slammed into him. His eyes, usually so composed and guarded, widened, disbelief and hope warring within them. He stood frozen for a moment, the world around him fading as everything zeroed in on this one fact.

You were pregnant.

Your eyes lifted from the book when you sensed him standing there, the quiet intensity of his presence pulling your attention. His gaze locked onto yours, his expression unreadable at first. But then his wings trembled slightly, and you saw something flicker in his eyes—something raw, vulnerable, and utterly overwhelmed.

“Az?” you asked softly, setting the book down, confused by the way he was staring at you as if he had never seen you before.

Azriel didn’t answer right away. Instead, he moved toward you in slow, deliberate steps, kneeling in front of you on the couch. His large hands, always so steady and sure, reached out to gently grasp your own. He stared at you for a long moment, his breath uneven, his eyes searching yours as if trying to confirm what he was feeling.

“You…” His voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper. “Your scent… it’s changed.”

You blinked, a wave of understanding suddenly dawning on you as the words settled in. Your heart raced as you processed what he meant. You had suspected for a while—small changes, subtle signs—but to hear it like this, to see the way Azriel was reacting…

“I—” you started, but your voice cracked as emotion welled up in your chest. You squeezed his hands, your own shaking slightly. “I think… I think I’m pregnant.”

Azriel’s breath hitched, and his hands instinctively moved to rest on your stomach, even though it was too early for any visible change. His eyes, normally so shadowed and controlled, filled with tears that he couldn’t hold back. His entire body seemed to tremble with the weight of what he was feeling, as if the realization had hit him like a tidal wave.

“You’re pregnant,” he whispered, his voice filled with awe and disbelief, as if saying it out loud would make it real. Tears spilled down his cheeks, and before you could say another word, he wrapped you in his arms, burying his face in your neck.

“I can feel it,” he murmured against your skin, his voice thick with emotion. “I can feel them… our child… part of you, part of me.”

You felt a tear slide down your own cheek as you held him close, feeling the way his entire body shook with the intensity of his emotions. Azriel, who had always been so strong, so in control, was now trembling in your arms, overwhelmed by the news that you were carrying his child.

He pulled back slightly to cup your face in his hands, his thumbs gently brushing away your tears. “You’re carrying our baby,” he whispered again, his eyes full of wonder, as if he couldn’t quite believe it.

You nodded, smiling through the tears. “Yes, Az,” you whispered back. “We’re going to have a baby.”

Azriel let out a soft, broken laugh, his wings curling around you protectively as if he could shield you and your child from the world. He kissed you deeply, tenderly, as though trying to pour every ounce of love he felt into that single moment.

When he pulled back, his face was still wet with tears, but there was a smile—a real, unguarded smile—that lit up his entire face.

“I love you,” he whispered, pressing his forehead against yours. “I love you so much. I didn’t know… I didn’t know I could feel this much.”

You smiled through your tears, your hands resting over his on your stomach. “I love you too, Azriel.”

And in that moment, wrapped in his wings and his love, you knew that this was the beginning of something beautiful. Azriel, who had always been your strength and protector, now had a new role—a father. And the joy and love that filled the room was almost overwhelming, as the two of you shared the quiet wonder of knowing that soon, you would become a family.

[pastel-peach-writes]

Hii, i just read all and i mean ALL of ur fics, but i saw you wrote for arcane women and was wondering if you could write headcanons abt them with a socially awkward/anxious reader?? If not thats A-Ok 👌 with me

Sure! How is everyone doing after the first three eps? I still haven't seen it but the edits I've seen... oh boy.

"I Got You." | Arcane Ladies Headcanons

╰┈➤ PLOT: How the ladies of Arcane(Jinx, Vi, Caitlyn, Sevika, Mel) act with a socially awkward and/or anxious partner

╰┈➤ WARNINGS: Spoiler Free, On The Shorter Side, Cursing, Not Proofread

⍣ ೋ Enjoy!⍣ ೋ

JINX

– At first, Jinx didn't get that you were socially awkward. She was used to people being awkward or even scared around her so she thought it was the same case with you until you two got closer.

– After knowing that your awkwardness was just you and not your fear of her, she observed you in social situations and noted what made you more anxious than normal.

– For example, she noticed you're more anxious and timid in bigger, louder spaces but if a space was quiet and quaint, you would be just fine so she often took you to quiet places for dates.

– If Jinx notices you're anxious in places you typically aren't, without a doubt she's removing you from the situation and taking you home where you can relax. No words, just grabs and tugs.

– She's tried the pep talk route before but it ended up in her rambling and somehow planning a terrorist scheme aloud... (yeah, a few patrons quickly left the area after hearing that), so she decided to scrap that idea altogether.

– At home though she would prepare what she calls, "A Safety Nest". It was a place in your shared space that had all your favorite things and trinkets, and she usually kept the space dimly lit and played your favorite music to calm you down.

– In social interactions where you take the lead in conversation, Jinx would quietly encourage you with big, almost alarming smiles and "gentle" pats on your back. Let's face it, Jinx can be socially awkward herself.

– Once the conversation concludes, she'll jump on you proudly, ruffle up your clothing, and pinch your cheeks endearingly all while calling you weird nicknames and quoting what you said while mimicking your tone and cadence.

––

VI

– Before you've had your first real conversation together, Vi could sense that you were an anxious individual.

– You fidgeted with your body while speaking, didn't hold eye contact long, and used a decent amount of filler words to casualize your sentences.

– She thought it was endearing to watch you act and move as if you thought no one truly cared about what you were saying or were afraid of boring others but you never bored her. She didn't think it was possible.

– You had tells and quips that revealed themselves with each conversation you two had. You showed more and more of your personality the more you got comfortable with her too. Vi loved it.

– When you spoke to her, especially when you went on tangents about things you were interested in, she always showed signs of active listening by nodding and asking follow-up questions. Even days later, she'll bring up the topic again to see if you have any updates.

– She made you feel seen and heard, something you've subconsciously craved. And when you went on your worry rambles, she consoled you and tried her best to stop you from spiraling.

– You thought about a lot of things and oftentimes about things no one else thought about. Vi thought your brain must've been exhausted with all the worries, doubts, and judgments that were usually wrapped up as others' but were truly your own; it was a lot for one person to handle so she strove to let you know that you were not alone.

– Is there a night you can't sleep because of your racing mind? Vi is there, holding you or reassuring you that everything is going to be okay. She can't sleep until you do anyway so why not speed the process along?

– You often had yourself stuck with your head stressing and worrying about multiple things at once and Vi was always there to bring you down to Earth.

__

CAITLYN

– Caitlyn's an encourager and a comforter with you.

– She's patient and silently allows you to take your time when gathering your thoughts midconversation but she'll also be the one to say, "It's okay, take your time," in the sweetest way possible.

– If there's an instance when you two are out and about and you really want something but are too scared to get it, she'll spring into action and get that thing for you. (Even if it was just a napkin).

– The only time she's frazzled socially is when you both are in an unfamiliar area and need to ask for directions. She'll stumble over her words and try to get someone's attention but they're moving too fast to hear her soft words.

– She'll get frustrated and you end up comforting her, but after a few backrubs, she's ready to try again. Her voice is strong and powerful, and people have no problem hearing her.

– You secretly thank whomever you have to for her determination but there was no way in hell you were going to walk up to a stranger and ask for directions like a tourist... which you were.

– Since Caitlyn's job has her socializing with a lot of people, she can get burnt out easily. Especially if work hasn't been going her way lately but even if she's burnt out and tired, if you seem to be more awkward or anxious than her, she's more than happy to step up socially.

– When you both have someplace to attend to or some event that holds significance, Caitlyn will not hesitate to stage a "social rehearsal" with you. She'll make flashcards of topics you could bring up, you'll both dress accordingly for the event in her living room, and she'll pretend to be an assortment of people so you can get used to different personalities all at once.

– It may seem like this is all for you, but honestly it helps her too. Sometimes she misses the personal cues of conversation leading the other to think she's a black-and-white thinking who has no time for pleasanties. Not true! She's very pleasant... sometimes she's just shy.

– Shyness is not a crime!

– After talking with the host and a few others she has to talk to due to her job, her social battery is depleted. She's extremely thankful you're able to recognize this and suggest leaving early. What would you two do without each other?

––

SEVIKA

– Oh, man. This lady found your awkwardness charming as hell.

– Your awkwardness was different than all the nerds and scaly-beings she's forced to be around. You were cute, looked perfect sitting next to her, and your awkwardness, as mentioned before, had a certain charming quality she can't quite place.

– She'll see you in your workplace trying to make casual conversation or small talk but none of your topics seemed to be landing. Your coworkers would give you a thin pressed-lips smile that she wanted to strike off of them to your attempts and then scoff at you behind your back.

– You were authentically yourself and those bastards didn't know what to do with it. They were scared, not her though.

– When you two got closer and comfortable enough with each other that you could tease one another or make playful jabs at the other's expense, no doubt she would tease you about your awkwardness.

– With those gorgeous eyes of yours, you would look everywhere else but her own, prompting her to say, "You know you can look me in the eyes, right? I won't bite", with the stupidest most shit-eating smirk on her face. And then when you look at her, a bit shocked and playfully annoyed, her smirk would only grow. "Unless you want me to."

– Sevika never made your awkwardness seem like a flaw. Your awkwardness came with you and she wanted all of you so she often encouraged your awkwardness.

– If she caught you trying to "reel" it in or realizing that you've talked for a few seconds too long, she'll playfully scold you and tell you to continue or to "let it out". Y'know. As someone who seethes dominance does.

– There would be an instance in which you go to Sevika asking for advice to be "less awkward" and her only response would be, "Why? I like your awkwardness, you don't need to change it. Anyone else who thinks otherwise is a sad loser and don't deserve to be in your life anyways."

– like damnnnn, okay!

– Safe to say you never asked her a question like that again.

--

MEL

– Mel understands your worries about what others think and the awkwardness that can come with it so she likes to help you in any way she can.

– If you're stressed about a council meeting and afraid of what everyone's going to think about the new perspective you'd like to bring to the table, she'll reassure you and tell you she's right by your side.

– If she can't physically with her hand on the small of your back, she give you nods of encouragement, raise her brows proudly, and look at you with that sense of pride and admiration in her golden eyes.

– After the meeting goes well, which she knew would, she'll congratulate you with your favorite drink and a night in doing all your favorite things.

– Even if there were parts in the meeting that were rocky, like the council people asking questions you weren't prepared for or getting rowdy, she'll say you did an excellent job and what you presented will help the people of Piltover.

– Oh, and don't think for a second that she wasn't sending glares and daggers to those who stirred up your anxiety even more. If looks could kill.

– Mel sees that sometimes your awkwardness and anxiety result in people-pleasing and she would shut that down real quick. She's fallen into that dangerous pool before and knows how hard it feels when you disappoint others and how much harder it is to get out of that mindset.

– She can get quite spirited with her encouragement...

– "Well, if they don't like it, that's on them! They don't know something good when they see it." "I've learned that hard way that you can't please everyone. You might as well say what you have to now. They can get over themselves later."

– It's actually quite attractive to see her stand up for you, even if she was standing up for the possibility.

– Always keeping her words in your mind, you find yourself navigating through life easier and you only have her to thank.

WC: 1,705

[machveil]

Soap x reader x Ghost

( or just Johnny with anyone) he has oral fixation. Doesn't matter it's a cunt oflr a cock, tit or peck, fingers? Anything he can in anytime anywhere.

He might be sucking on his hoodie string if he's out of gums and idle, but in sex? He gets his partner(s) marked with hickeys and bites.

He's the one randomly biting his partner(s) during the day

if I could reach through the screen and kiss your cheek I would jesus christ

CW: Fem!Reader, Johnny has an oral fixation<3, ambiguous on the relationship dynamic - up to your interpretation, no condom, wrap it before you tap it, Johnny x Reader x Simon

Johnny likes to keep his mouth busy - when he isn’t talking he’s got something between his lips. I feel like Johnny was a notorious nail biter growing up. his mother definitely tried to make him stop but eventually gave up because he just kept doing it. he doesn’t bite his nails as much as an adult, but every once in a while he’ll chew and bite off the edge of his nails

Johnny has a thing for wearing hoodies. they’re big, warm, comfortable, and the laces for the hood are nice to chew on. he tends to wear black ones to the gym so you can’t tell the laces are coated in spit and drool as easily. he’s definitely borrowed a hoodie from Simon briefly only to return it with spit soaked laces. Simon didn’t even bat an eye, just shrugged it off and put it on. sometimes Simon gets a hoodie back and the sleeve cuffs have been chewed and slobbered on, but that never deters him from lending Johnny his clothes

Johnny will absentmindedly suck on your fingers while you’re lounging. when you’re cuddled together his mouth is latching onto you, anything his mouth can reach. he doesn’t even notice, eyes glued to tv as he uses your index and middle fingers as a pacifier, gently sucking on them and coating them in his warm saliva. he’s so comfortable against you when he does it, eyes half lidded and body limp - he doesn’t even register how he’s got your fingers down to the knuckle resting on his tongue

Simon’s neck is littered with hickeys, easily hidden behind his balaclava. Johnny can’t help himself, tucked against Simon’s side as he mouths at his throat. it’s nice, Simon’s got his arms around his waist - a nice, secure hold. his brain gets to turn off while he dumbly sucks on his skin, red marks blooming against Simon’s neck and shoulders. it soothes Johnny, lets his mind go somewhere else while he sucks another hickey against Simon’s neck, shifting closer with a small whine caught in his throat

Johnny’s mouth is all yours to use, he’s begged for you to use it before. sometimes sucking and gnawing on items and clothes isn’t enough for him, he needs you. you can’t be upset with Johnny, not when he’s buried his head between your legs, lazily sucking on your clit. he’s solely focused on working his mouth, not aware of his stiff cock straining against his pants. he’s got your hips pushed down, ready to eat you out until he’s done. deaf to your whines and pleas, he’s moaning against your cunt as his eyes flutter shut

Johnny who’s kneeling on the floor, idly sucking on Simon’s fat cock. he’s got a rugby match on the tv, one hand in Johnny’s hair, the other cradling a beer bottle. Johnny’s more than content where he is, nose to Simon’s pelvis, jaw slack as he breathes out through his nose. the weight of his cock on Johnny’s tongue is so good, and Simon’s being nice - hips still and petting him, rough hand gently scratching at his scalp. Simon only thrusts a little when Johnny starts to nod off, eyes drooping shut and drool trailing down his chin

Johnny’s favorite thing? having to sit still, whining as he watches Simon mercilessly fuck you. Simon told him to be good, gave him two commands. “Open.”, Johnny was so eager to begin with, thought Simon was going to fuck his face, turn his brain to mush. he was wrong, but equally excited when Simon guided a dildo into his mouth, “Suck, Johnny.”. his heartbeat was rapid, ringing in his ears, whining as he did what he was told. Simon murmured a quick ‘good boy’, leaving Johnny to watch as he filled you. maybe it was mean, but it was doing something to the poor man, especially when he saw a trickle of white bead out of your slit

Simon knew what he was doing, had a plan going into this. watching you writhe beneath him, head dipping down to mark your neck up - leaving his own hickeys to match Johnny’s. he knows Johnny’s watching, the way his cock stretches you out, bullies it’s way in and out of you. absolutely filthy, his hips stuttering before he’s spilling into you. just a couple times, he forces his hips to buck again, fucking his cum into you, warmth spreading in your tummy as you cry out. Simon can hear the wet sucking behind him, doesn’t have to look to know Johnny has that dildo down his throat, eyes glossy and chin slick

Simon’s nice, lazily pulls out of you after his third orgasm. despite his exhaustion, the overstimulation he feels, he gets up. Johnny can’t help but whine when Simon slowly pulls the dildo from his mouth, teary eyes looking up at the Brit. his desperation is sated though, excitement coursing through his veins as Simon gently grabs his chin. “Good mutt.”, voice hoarse, Simon smiles down at him, “Go clean your toy up, yeah?”. Simon takes Johnny’s place, sitting down. dark brown eyes watching as Johnny settles between your legs, head dipping down to lap at your cunt as you hiccup

[depravitycentral]

yandere, 18+

I know I write about this kind of stuff a lot, but there’s just something about men humping inanimate objects that just really gets to me.

It’s the desperation that they can't control. It's the physical urge to move, to feel something underneath them, their body physically unable to stop itself from fucking something. It's the way their hips snap and buck and jolt all without them meaning it, their body betraying them on the most primal level because their subconscious is recognizing that they need something warm and soft and oh so pretty to sink into, to rut against until he's smearing pearls of white against soft, supple skin. It's the uncontrollable need to hump themselves against you, really.

Fucking their fist and mechanically bringing their wrist up and down again and again until cum oozes from the tip is fine and dandy, but they need more. They need the full immersion of the fantasy of fucking you, their brain needing the mental images and the physical motions of thrusting, pretending with every fiber of their being that its your warm, wet cunt sucking them in, the velvety feel of your walls leaving phantom touches against his skin.

(Some of them even go so far as to scratch at their own back, eyes rolling to the back of their head imagining that it’s you leaving your mark on him, that it’s your nails digging into his skin and digging into him, making him yours yours yours. They'll pinch at their own nipples, press fingertips hard against their biceps, even wrap a hand around his neck hard enough to leave the area red and irritated just to simulate the way that you'd touch him.)

Pillows, cushions, blankets, anything soft that could be a poor stand-in for your body is fine. Anything that he can clutch onto, that he can press his hips against tightly enough to be suffocating, something that can mold to the shape of him just as you would - all just to really feel like he’s got every single inch stuffed inside of you, giving everything he possibly can to you.

Even hard things will do in a pinch - perhaps the cover of a book you love and cherish, the texture of the binding leaving a slightly painful sting behind that blends into the pleasure and makes his eyes roll back. (Will you still smell the pages and sigh at that old-book smell, or will you perhaps notice the new presence of something slightly musky, slightly heavy, unexplainably male?) Your hairbrush - rutting against the handle he knows you’ve fucked your self with, alternating between rutting against it and bringing it up to his mouth to suck on, eyes squeezed shut as he tried to taste any traces of you.

The only rule is that it has to be something of yours, or something that connects to you in some way. Your pillow, a few wayward strands of your hair sitting against the plush, feeling like heaven and making him blush when he sees the way his sticky cum has left the hairs smeared again his skin, tacky and stuck to him. (The sight makes him suck in his breath, gulping harshly as he comes down from his high, a thumb coming out to carefully, nervously brush at the hair, unable to stop himself from feeling like the sight is somehow so very right.)

It’s better when things are stained - your underwear with discharge discoloration bleaching the fabric, your favorite skirt that you accidentally stained during your period, even a particular pair of socks that you once got dirt on. It’s been used and loved by you, and now he’ll use and love it, too, even leaving his very own stain behind.

There’s just something about it that makes everything feel better, more complete, more real. Of course nothing will ever compare to actually fucking you, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

And of course, the pinnacle, when he really gets desperate, is when he whips out one of the many, many photographs he's taken of you. (Or, photos he'd printed out from your social media accounts because he's too shy to actually photograph you - and this is less creepy, right? Right?) He's touching it with delicate fingers, barely pinching onto the corners, laying the image down on his bed and positioning himself to be right over it. He'll take his time to trace the outline of your face with the tip, sighing and biting his lip, before the urge takes over and soon he's groaning, hips rutting against the smooth surface of the photograph - your face, really.

(The cool feeling and the twinge of pain he gets when he angles wrong and catches the edge of the photograph only makes him grit his teeth, eyes squeezing shut harder because he has to do this - he has to keep fucking, to keep pushing himself because he needs to come for you, you deserve and he wants to give it to you so badly and oh oh oh - The photograph of you smiling is almost prettier with globs of his cum staining your pearly teeth and the apples of your cheeks.)

It's just so depraved, but they can't help it - they just want you so badly that they can't help it.

(In particular I'm thinking of the chronic humpers - Kageyama, who gets so, so whiny, his voice going high and pitchy and his face turning a bright pink color as his abs clench and flex, each drag of his hips making his arms shake even more, sweat beading at his temple leaving his dark hair matted to his forehead.

Or Sugawara, who tends to lay onto his back, humping at the pillow from underneath, pressing the cotton so hard against his pelvis that his biceps are taut, back arching and Adam's Apple bobbing as he chants yes yes yes under his breath, one hand even coming up to blindly grope and squeeze at the air where he imagines your bouncing tits to be.

Or Giyuu, who's thrusts start out slow, hesitant, embarrassed, as if he can't believe he's been reduced to his, worried to sully your good name. But then his hips get faster and he's burying his face into the crook of his elbow, whispering out a stuttered, broken p-please accompanied by your name as he cum seeps into the pillow material.

Or Tomura, who has all the fancy sex toys in the world that he's found on the deepest, most questionable parts of the internet, but finds that nothing is a good stand in aside from your pillow. He starts off animalistic, mounting the pillow and smacking at it, imagining the way your pretty ass would bounce back and ripple at the motion. But then his orgasm draws closer and the thrusts get deeper, more meaningful, like he's trying to reach as deeply inside of you as possible, and his grip is almost unbearably tight as his orgasm washes over him, hips quivering and twitching as he imagines the way you'd clutch onto him and thank him.

Or Feitan, who's biting into the pillow as he cock drags against it, teeth bared and practically snarling into the (stained) cotton, dark eyes squeezed shut as he tries so very hard to not whine your name.

Or even, on very, very specific occasions, Chrollo, whose sense of dignity flies out the window when you deny his romantic advances once again. You're just playing so very hard to get, and while he's invested into the game for the long run, he's still just a man - and the image of you spread out underneath him, wearing lacy, angelic lingerie and spreading those creamy, supple thighs of yours is enough to drive him mad.

It's just pathetic enough to be sweet, really, and although you aren't exactly flattered when you walk in on him heatedly grunting your name with the pillow tightly clutched between his thighs, just know he's doing it for you. Everything he does is for you.

[crystallinestars]

NSFW Alphabet - Kinich

In honor of Kinich's birthday, I wrote a NSFW alphabet to celebrate. There's just something about him that has a firm grip on me, and I've been unable to stop thinking about him for a solid month. I'm posting this at 11:11 (my time), so let this also be a tribute in the hopes he'll come home on his rerun 🙏

Kinich x fem!Reader

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Kinich is quite good at aftercare. He’s attentive to your needs and asks how you’re feeling and if you need him to get you anything or help with cleanup. Even before you say anything, his keen eye picks up on your physical state, and Kinich will go out of his way to help you with whatever he can.

He gets you whatever you ask for, be it water, a towel, or a kiss, and carries you to the shower if you’re too weak to walk. He apologizes for being too rough on you and makes a mental note to be gentler next time. Kinich makes it up to you by letting you rest and taking care of your household duties the following day.

After cleaning up, if it’s not too late in the day, he’ll whip up a simple meal for you to share. Alternatively, he might stay in bed and cuddle if he needs the rest. Kinich enjoys cuddling after sex and basking in the afterglow. There’s something nice about holding and treating you with tenderness after such a passionate encounter. It deepens his affection for you.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Kinich doesn’t have a favorite body part on himself, but he does prize his body as a whole. His childhood taught him early on the importance of having a well-maintained body. Without it, he wouldn’t have survived. It’s also his bargaining chip with Ajaw, so he considers his body to be one of his greatest assets. Kinich takes care to stay in shape, which his physically demanding commissions and extreme sports hobby make easy to accomplish.

As for your body, Kinich also has no preference. He loves you for who you are rather than what you look like, but he does have a slight fascination with the nape of your neck. He catches himself wanting to kiss it when standing or lying behind you.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

It’s thin and a healthy white. Has a slightly salty flavor. Doesn’t have a strong preference for where to cum, but he usually does it inside unless you tell him otherwise. He is hesitant to cum on your face because he thinks you won’t like that. You’ll need to tell him it’s okay otherwise he’ll avoid that area.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

The first time you wore a swimsuit, Kinich was captivated by how pretty you looked. He already thought you were attractive, but something about seeing you in a flattering swimsuit and exposing so much skin made him pause and take an appreciative glance at you. His usual stoic expression didn’t change, but Ajaw noticed the subtle way Kinich’s eyes trailed down your figure, lingering on you for a moment too long.

Of course, Ajaw’s immediate response was to mock Kinich for checking you out, and the Saurian Hunter had to lock the menace away to keep him quiet. Though it would have been embarrassing to be exposed for checking you out, Kinich worried more about Ajaw making you uncomfortable with his blunt and crass commentary, so he did what he could to prevent that. Kinich also complimented your appearance, wanting you to know he thought you looked pretty in your swimsuit. (There was also a lot of fruit bribing happening behind your back so Ajaw wouldn’t open his big mouth once he was let out)

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Kinich has no experience. He never sought romantic or sexual relationships, preferring to be by himself and taking care of his sexual needs on his own. Intimate relationships weren’t a priority or something he was interested in. Once Ajaw entered his life, the pixelated menace’s rudeness and narcissism kept others away from Kinich, so such chances became even fewer, though Kinich didn’t mind.

Despite having no prior experience, Kinich does have a working knowledge of sex. He sees it mostly as a means of reproduction, but he’s read and heard enough to know it’s also done for pleasure, to relieve stress, and to deepen bonds between romantic partners. He never really gave it much thought until he formed a romantic relationship with you and wondered if sex was something you wanted to have with him in the future. He looked into it more once you started discussing the possibility of being sexually intimate. Due to his cautious nature, Kinich wants to be prepared for all kinds of situations, so he spends a great deal of time researching guides and tips on how to have safe sex.

The Saurian Hunter doesn’t let his inexperience hold him back. Even during your first time, he acts assertively and confidently when exploring your body and learning your likes and dislikes but remains gentle. Kinich’s preparedness gives him a good idea of what to do to please you and keep things comfortable and safe so you can both enjoy the experience. However, as a beginner to sexual intimacy, he would still appreciate it if you gave him some guidance on how you want to be pleased and communicated with him about your needs. He wants to polish his skills to please you to the best of his ability.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Kinich favors classic positions like missionary, cowgirl, and doggystyle.

Missionary allows him to see your face and establish a more intimate emotional connection. It’s his go-to when he craves romantic lovemaking. It also makes it easy to kiss you, hold your hand, and bite your neck. Kinich enjoys variations on missionary as well, such as hiking your legs onto his shoulders or pressing your knees to your chest for deeper and tighter penetration.

With cowgirl, he enjoys letting you take the reins and move how you like. There’s something hot about watching you bounce on his lap and get off with his cock, not to mention the alluring view he has of your body. While you ride him, Kinich helps guide your hips with his hands and thrusts up into you when he gets closer to his peak.

As for doggystyle, Kinich likes to use this position when you don’t have as much time to make love but still need sexual relief. It’s a tad primal, and he’s fond of the tighter squeeze this position offers. Watching you melt and moan under him makes his self-control slip a little, so Kinich tends to fuck you harder in this position. He presses his chest against your back, blanketing your body with his to stay close to you and because he likes biting your neck and shoulders.

Kinich’s athleticism and equipment allow him to try some less conventional sex positions, though he generally won’t choose them unless you express an interest in trying something new. If you so wish, he’ll use his strength and flexibility to try out one of the more difficult positions, or even get out the ropes and hooks, but only after careful research about the associated safety hazards. Sex should be fun, yes, but doing so safely is still a higher priority for him. The last thing he wants is for either of you to get injured.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

As with most things, Kinich approaches sex seriously, but he does try to keep the mood relaxed. He doesn’t crack jokes, but his demeanor softens. He asks for permission to touch you, and frequently inquires if you’re okay and want to keep going, giving you a chance to stop should you want it. He takes your needs and comfort very seriously.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Has a small patch of curly dark hair. He grooms it just enough to keep it orderly but doesn’t spend a lot of time trimming it to perfection.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Kinich is not the greatest romantic, but he does value an emotional connection during sex. He has come a long way in learning to trust and open up to people since his turbulent childhood, but the vulnerability and intimacy that come with sex and romance can make him uneasy. As such, Kinich only has sex with someone he deeply loves and trusts. Only such a person has the privilege to witness such a vulnerable part of himself.

Because he views most things in life as a transaction, if you entrust your heart and body to him, Kinich will see it as his duty to show the same amount of love and trust in return. He cherishes your trust and affection and wants to repay you in kind. This manifests in him holding your hand during lovemaking, openly looking at you with desire and adoration, and leaving soft kisses all over your skin.

He’s not the best with words, but Kinich tries his best to compliment you. It’s nothing flowery, usually just a simple “you look beautiful” while he admires your figure, or “you feel good”, and of course a whispered “I love you” during tender lovemaking.

As mentioned previously, Kinich values your comfort so he frequently asks how you’re feeling and if you want to keep going. He doesn’t want to force you if you don’t feel ready or want to stop, and neither does he want to push your body past its limits. Hurting or upsetting you is the absolute last thing he wants, so he gives you opportunities to leave the situation in case you want them. He’s very considerate towards you.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Kinich doesn’t masturbate often. He’s usually busy completing commissions so he doesn’t have the luxury of thinking about his sexual needs. If he needs to relieve stress, then his preference for that is through extreme sports.

Nonetheless, he still experiences the urge for sexual relief, so Kinich usually masturbates while taking a bath. It’s one of the few moments he has completely to himself, plus it makes cleaning up any evidence of his lewd activities extremely easy. Kinich is cautious, however, and stifles his voice and other sounds to remain discreet.

He usually doesn’t think about anything while jacking off, but when he fell in love with you, he caught himself masturbating more often and fantasizing about you in your swimsuit or of you touching him like this. He was ashamed of thinking of you this way at first, but that shame went away once you became sexually intimate. If you ever ask him about whether he thought of you while masturbating, though, he will be honest and forthright when admitting that he had and still does when you’re not available.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Kinich leans more dominant, but he doesn’t enforce his authority. He doesn’t order you around or give commands, but he can pin your wrists down and act assertive to get what he wants from you (all while being respectful of your wishes and first gauging if it’s something you’re anticipating him to do. Kinich would never force himself on you).

He’s fine with you taking the lead if you have an interest in being dominant, and looks forward to seeing what you have in mind for your session together.

One of his biggest kinks is marking. Kinich likes to leave hickeys and bite marks all over your skin, particularly your neck, shoulders, and inner thighs. It’s a primal urge he gets when having sex, and he takes delight in seeing his marks on you in the following days. It makes him feel like he’s staked his claim on you, marking you as his. Of course, he doesn’t go overboard and listens to you if you say you don’t want the marks to be visible. He’ll settle for marking up your shoulders or inner thighs where the marks won’t be seen by anyone except him.

Kinich is also into hearing you beg. He won’t go out of his way to tease and demand you beg for his touch, but if you do so of your own volition (ex: “Kinich please, I need you”) then it sets off something primal inside him. Hearing how needy you are for his touch sends sparks of lust through him and makes him eager to fulfill your desires.

He’s also into light bondage. Nothing complicated, just some scarves or rope to tie your wrists with will do (his knots are secure, but he makes sure the bindings are loose enough to not chafe your skin. Though he’ll tighten them if you ask). Conversely, he can use his hands to pin your wrists down (and lace your fingers together). He’s not into being tied himself, though.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Kinich isn’t against having sex outdoors, but only if you’re in a location that’s safe from potential intruders and wild beasts. He’s open to making love to you while camping, be it in a tent or under the starlit sky but won’t push you if you’re not comfortable with the idea.

At home, to avoid getting caught by Ajaw, Kinich prefers to have sex either in the bedroom or bathroom where you have more privacy. On the occasions when he gets a friend to babysit the menace, Kinich is down to make love pretty much anywhere at home, he’s not picky.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

One of the best ways to turn Kinich on is to express your love for him. Heartfelt words of affection, acts of service, or thoughtful gifts touch his heart. He is overcome by love for you in those moments because you make him feel cherished and cared for, and Kinich feels an impulse to show you that he loves and appreciates you too. He’s not good at sappy love confessions, so this impulse manifests physically. What starts as a gentle kiss of gratitude grows into something passionate as Kinich’s need to express his feelings for you intensifies. This can sometimes result in him making love to you.

Kinich’s self-control and patience are high, but there are a few other things you could do to wear away at them. For example, being assertive in initiative sex. Straddle his lap and teasingly trace your hands over his body, give him kisses along his jaw and neck, whisper in his ear how much you crave him, and lust will ignite in his loins.

Alternatively, you could wear flattering clothes that hug your figure, such as swimsuits or sportswear (he likes to admire how nice you look in them), or press up against him and let him feel the softness of your body. It’s unlikely Kinich will snap, but his interest in sexual intimacy will heighten considerably, and he’ll look for an appropriate opportunity to satiate your carnal desires.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Kinich dislikes being restrained or losing control of his body, so things like bondage and blindfolds make him uneasy. Plus, half the fun of sex is being able to touch you, so being tied up deprives him of the joy of exploring your body and making you feel good.

Kinich also takes no enjoyment from impact play. He doesn’t hate it but simply doesn’t derive any pleasure from the pain, especially because his associations with being hit aren’t good ones. Similarly, he won’t hit or degrade you either, not wanting to be like his father even if it’s light-hearted play with the intent to feel good.

Additionally, Kinich isn’t into roleplay. He doesn’t see the appeal and finds it awkward to act as someone he’s not, especially in a sexual situation. He’d much rather you and he act like yourselves and show appreciation and love for who you are without the extra obstacles.

He’s also not fond of sharing you or having third parties join your sessions, preferring to keep things private. Only you get to see this vulnerable side of him, and he hopes you share the sentiment of wanting him to be the only one to see you like this, as well.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Kinich’s inexperience might make him a little awkward at oral sex at first, but he is devoted to your pleasure and does his best to learn all the ways you like to be eaten out. Whenever he gives you oral, he keeps his eyes fixed on your face and takes mental note of which pressures and touches of his tongue and fingers get the best reactions out of you. He wants to use this knowledge to improve his oral skills so he can better please you.

Kinich has no qualms about going down on you because he strives to make you feel good, and as such, will bury his face between your legs and lap away at your folds until you’re writhing under his touch. He doesn���t mind if you tug his hair or buck your hips against his face, though if you squirm too much or impede his progress by clamping your thighs around his head, then he hooks his arms around your thighs and pins them down to keep you still. Kinch only lets go once he’s brought you to orgasm.

Despite his transactional outlook on life, Kinich doesn’t expect you to give him oral in return for eating you out. If you bring him to orgasm through any other means, then he considers it even. That said, he views it as his duty to go down on you if you give him a blowjob. He loves giving you oral. There’s something so erotic about hearing your moans of pleasure and watching you writhe under his tongue, so he’s always eager to repay the favor.

When you give him a blowjob, Kinich struggles to keep his voice down. His eyes flutter closed and he places a hand on your head, not pushing or pulling but just resting it there to ground himself. The sight of his cock disappearing in your mouth is intense for him, and as he approaches orgasm, Kinich shallowly thrusts into your mouth, careful to not choke you but unable to stop himself from wanting more. Whether you swallow his cum or let him paint your skin in it doesn’t matter—either outcome is hot to him.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Kinich’s pace depends on what you want. He usually goes for a moderate pace, keeping his thrusts consistent and angled just right to hit those sweet spots inside you. However, he can go slow and gentle if you’re making love, or faster and rougher if you’re in the mood for a good fuck. Even if he goes rougher, Kinich is still mindful of your comfort and keeps strict control of his thrusts so as to not hurt you. His main goal is for you to enjoy sex with him. Getting himself off is secondary.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Kinich doesn’t mind quickies. Sometimes, when he or you are in the mood but don’t have enough time to indulge in long foreplay, he goes for quickies. Ajaw is usually the main reason for you guys having quickies, mostly because you want to squeeze in some intimate time before the arrogant saurian inevitably interrupts you.

Kinich finds it a hassle to work around Ajaw’s presence, so he prefers to send the dragonlord out on an errand or lock him away so you won’t be disturbed. To Kinich’s dismay, Ajaw quickly figures out that whenever he gets promptly locked or sent out on a long errand whenever you’re around, this usually means his servant is about to get busy with you. However, for once, Ajaw doesn’t object. He already had the misfortune of accidentally walking in on you getting frisky with Kinich when the hunter forgot to lock him away, and the awful memory is seared into the poor saurian’s brain. One time was too many, and he’d rather never see that again. Nevertheless, when he returns to Kinich’s side, Ajaw makes sure to thoroughly poke fun at the hunter and make his disgust for your sexual activities known.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Kinich is willing to take risks, especially for you. Generally, he’s open to trying almost anything once but only if you’re also on board with experimenting. Due to his cautious nature, Kinich will want to research whatever new kinks you want to try so he knows how to indulge in them safely, especially if one of you hasn’t tried these kinks before. He's open to taking risks but he's not reckless.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Kinich’s commissions and extreme sports hobby require him to have good endurance, so he has very good stamina. He almost always outlasts you in bed. He can easily go for three rounds, maybe a couple more if he’s willing to push himself and takes appropriate breaks, though three is already more than enough to satisfy his sexual cravings.

How many rounds you go for usually depends on you. If you can’t keep up with his stamina, then Kinich is perfectly content to go for 1-2 rounds (as mentioned, it’s the perfect amount for him). However, if your sexual appetite is big, Kinich can go for more rounds, though he would switch it up with oral or fingering for variety and to give himself a break.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Kinich doesn’t own any sex toys. He doesn’t need them to get off and thus sees no point in getting any. If you have toys you like using or want to try with him, then Kinich will learn how to operate them to please you. He typically likes sex without toys but admits they’re good for spicing up your sex life now and then.

He won’t object if you want to use toys on him even though they’re not as gratifying for him as your direct touch, but only if you know what you’re doing.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Usually, Kinich doesn’t tease you during sex. He takes a straightforward approach to life and likes to do things efficiently, and pleasing you is no different. However, Kinich can be playful when the mood strikes, and this results in him teasing you by lightly stimulating your sensitive spots, such as lightly flicking your nipples, rubbing your clit, or sucking on a delicate patch of skin on your neck just to watch you react to his touch with a small, amused smirk on his lips. He’s got a smart mouth, so he might also verbally tease you by pointing out how eager you seem for his touch, but he keeps the teasing lighthearted and affectionate.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Kinich naturally tries to keep his voice down when engaging in sexual activities. His most common sounds are ragged breaths, moans, and sighs of pleasure. His moans are soft, low, and infrequent, mostly because he muffles them by sucking hickeys into your neck or kissing you. He’s loudest when nearing orgasm, oftentimes uttering your name right as he hits his peak.

He doesn’t talk much during sex, but he does give you heartfelt compliments and tells you he loves you as a way of expressing his gratitude for all the love and trust you give him.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

TW: Menstruation, mentions of blood, period sex

When Kinich found out about your painful menstrual cramps, he took to researching various methods he could use to help you deal with them because he doesn’t like seeing you in pain. Aside from common methods like heating pads, pain medicine, and warm baths, Kinich also read that orgasms can help alleviate cramping.

He proposes the idea of period sex, expressing his willingness to give you orgasms if it means bringing you relief. He understands if you aren’t comfortable with the idea and won’t pressure you into it, but his interest in doing this for you is genuine.

Kinich sees menstruation as a normal part of life and reassures you that there is no reason to feel self-conscious or ashamed of your body’s natural response. Blood doesn’t make him squeamish, so he has no reservations about getting any of yours on himself. If it helps you feel better, then he’s willing to get messy.

If you agree to his proposition, Kinich will take great measures to ensure your comfort. He understands that your abdomen must be tender, so he keeps all his touches slow and gentle to avoid worsening your cramps. He lets you decide if you’re more comfortable with him using his penis or fingers—either one is fine with him. If you choose fingers, then he rubs your clit in slow circles and gently thrusts his fingers into you, starting with one and then moving on to two until he makes you cum.

If you prefer his cock, then Kinich will be careful and gentle with his thrusts, keeping them slow and shallow until you’re comfortable with taking more. He showers you with a lot of kisses and affectionate caresses to keep you relaxed and maximize your enjoyment of the experience. During such moments, Kinich focuses more on your comfort and enjoyment than his own pleasure because the experience is mainly about you.

He feels a sense of accomplishment when his efforts pay off in your orgasm and you confirm that it did indeed help alleviate your pain. Kinich volunteers to have menstrual sex with you each month if it’s something that interests you.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

11cm (4.3 inch) in length and 10cm (3.9 inch) in girth with a dark red tip and a prominent vein underneath.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Kinich’s sexual appetite isn’t big, so having sex once or twice a week is enough for him. Because his work sometimes forces him to leave his tribe for days at a time, opportunities to make love are not as frequent as you might hope, but Kinich still tries to make time for it.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Kinich doesn’t fall asleep immediately after intercourse unless he’s tired. He likes to stay up and hold you, basking in the afterglow and letting you know that he really enjoyed this moment. He’s not one for idle chatter, but he does use this opportunity to talk about your plans for tomorrow, maybe plan a small date, or invite you to a special place he discovered while running an errand as a courier.

You almost always fall asleep before him (he gives you quite a workout) and he observes the way your expression relaxes as you drift off with a small smile on his face. Kinich ensures you’re properly tucked in before draping an arm around you and joining you in sleep, or quietly getting out of bed to take care of unfinished work. He always makes sure you’re comfortable before leaving, though.

[luvzshy]

I’d really like something like billie and reader are together for a while now, everybody supports them but ONE friend of billie. they managed the situation but when billie surprisingly proposes this friend decides to talk to billie and declare her feelings, while doing it reader arrives in the room and shit hit the fan lol billie being the good fiancée we know she’ll be gets on reader side ofcccc

am i crazy? you can say so

The Confession That Almost Broke Us

Word Count: 1,130 words

Warnings: Angst, jealousy, unrequited love, emotional confrontation

a/n: okay so this is interestinggggg i love drama bro and if i was lana maaann, i would be crashing out 😭😭

You and Billie had been together for almost two years now, and life was good. You fit into her world like you’d been meant to be there all along. Billie’s friends and family had embraced you with open arms, thrilled to see her so happy and grounded. But there was always one person who seemed a little distant—Lana. She was one of Billie’s oldest friends, always hanging around on the periphery, smiling politely and keeping her comments to herself. You’d tried to shake off the weirdness between you, but sometimes, when she’d look at Billie, you couldn’t help but feel a chill of something… off.

Whenever you’d bring it up to Billie, she’d just laugh and brush it aside. “That’s just Lana being Lana,” she’d say. “She’s always been a little intense.”

You trusted Billie, so you didn’t push it. After all, no relationship is perfect, and if one friend wasn’t thrilled, you’d manage. Still, there were times when you felt Lana’s eyes on you, something guarded and closed-off, like she was holding onto a secret.

It all came to a head one night, when Billie planned a small gathering at your place to celebrate the anniversary of her first album release. Friends, family, a few close people from the industry—it was an intimate, warm night, with laughter and drinks flowing. Everyone crowded into your living room, sharing memories, laughing over stories from Billie’s early touring days, and just soaking up the celebration.

As the night wore on, Billie got quiet. She held your hand tightly, glancing around the room with a smile that seemed… different, more nervous than you were used to. Then, without warning, she stood up and faced you, holding your hand tightly. She took a deep breath, and your heart stopped as she dropped down on one knee.

The room fell silent. You could see wide-eyed smiles and gasps all around you, but all you could focus on was Billie. She looked up at you with a mix of nervousness and warmth, her fingers gently squeezing yours.

“Y/N,” she said, her voice shaky but steady. “You have made me happier than I ever thought I could be. Being with you… it’s like, every day, I’m the luckiest person in the world. And I can’t imagine my life without you.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small velvet box, popping it open to reveal a beautiful, sparkling ring. “Will you marry me?”

The room burst into cheers and applause, but for you, it all faded into the background. With tears in your eyes, you nodded, overwhelmed with joy. “Yes! Of course, yes!”

Billie stood up and kissed you, pulling you close as your friends and family gathered around, congratulating you both, hugging and laughing and celebrating.

Everyone, that is, except Lana. She stood off to the side, her expression a mixture of shock and something else… pain, maybe? Her face was tight, and she didn’t join in the celebration. Billie seemed to notice, too, glancing her way with a slight frown before shaking it off and pulling you back into the moment.

The rest of the evening flew by in a blur of laughter, toasts, and shared joy. You tried to shake off the moment with Lana, chalking it up to shock or maybe just jealousy. But later that night, when Billie left the room to get something from the kitchen, Lana slipped away, following her.

Curious, you hung back, deciding to give them a moment. But then you heard hushed voices coming from the other room. Lana’s voice, choked with emotion, drifted toward you.

“Billie, I need to talk to you,” she was saying. “Please, just… listen. I’ve been holding this in for so long, and I can’t anymore. I have feelings for you. I’ve always had feelings for you. I thought, maybe… one day, you’d see that I was the one who was supposed to be by your side. And now, seeing you with her, seeing you propose… I can’t take it anymore.”

There was a long, painful silence before Billie spoke, her voice low but resolute. “Lana… I’m sorry. I love you, but not in that way. You’re my friend, and you’ve always been special to me. But Y/N is the one I’m in love with. She’s the one I want to spend my life with.”

You couldn’t hold back any longer. You walked into the room, your heart pounding as Lana turned, startled to see you there. Her face flushed, and she looked away, clearly mortified. Billie’s eyes met yours, filled with concern and apology.

“Y/N,” Billie said softly, moving to your side. She took your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “You know I’m with you. I’ll always be with you.”

Lana stammered, looking down at the floor, realizing the weight of what she’d just done. “I… I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything. I just… I thought maybe…”

You took a deep breath, trying to find words that would hold the peace but also express your hurt. “Lana, I understand this might be hard for you. But Billie chose me. We’re building a life together.”

Lana nodded, eyes downcast, her shoulders slumping. “I know. I’m sorry. I just… I’ll go.”

Without another word, she left the room, leaving you and Billie alone. Billie turned to you, her hands gentle on your face, her eyes filled with love. “You’re my everything, Y/N. No one could ever come between us.”

You wrapped your arms around her, pulling her close, feeling the security and warmth in her embrace. In that moment, you knew that whatever challenges might come your way, Billie was yours—and you were hers.

[cancerian]

The only “dense motherfucker” is one that believes it is women that must do so (make men feel comfortable) for men. You live in a society highly governed by your fellow males, if anyone is making you feel “bad” or “sad” it is because of the rules and laws created by your fellow males. Why should women who have been oppressed and subjugated for years, and are still subjugated by a different name care for your hurt that is caused by other men.

The biggest threat to women is men, the biggest threat to men is other men. At these your big ages, you would think that half a braincell would have formed by now. There is nothing that men will do now that they have not already done in the past. This is why women’s history and their experiences with the men they loved is very important for young girls to know. That way they don’t fall into the trap of “if you show them love, they will change and be kind.” Stop trying to put women in dangerous situations under the guise of loving all humans.

You have to be small minded to think women treat all men the same, your kind needs their ego stroked. Which is why women/girls are required to say “but not all men” when discussing things that disproportionately affect them. No one owes you love, but as humans we owe each other some sense of respect. So, you must respect women’s decisions to interact with you how they feel safest doing. The same way women have learned to respect that not all men are going to respect them. Only a dense pig would think that women do not understand the concept of viewing others as humans. In fact, time and time again it is women that are viewed as less than human by the same group you’re forcing them to care for.

As women (regardless of age), and especially as black women (moving away from the POC bs) you should prioritize your safety, you are not mother Theresa (even she was proven to be a fraud) and should focus on your own wellbeing. Don’t let an idiot calling you “dense” put you in situations many never come out of alive. As someone who has a male in her life that would do anything to see her happy and accomplished (and vice versa), I don’t go around with rose colored glasses trying to change anyone’s opinions because they chose to adopt an ideology that demonizes the living experiences of others. If being called “brother” is the only way you feel welcomed, then you need to rethink your entire life. Once you’re above 25, I implore that you try using at the very least 1/3 of your brain. I know using even half would probably cause a headache, so for now let’s aim to use 1/3.

Also you bring up the fact that men disproportionately hold more seats of power, so maybe direct your sadness to the people actively causing it. Which is the men in power not caring about the broke men (any man not in power). “It won’t pan out great for anyone who is not a male” because this is what males have done throughout history (I know you used man, but I used male for a specific reason and no I’m not a terf, but I don’t care about being called that). What a pathetic thing to say, especially if you’re not the man in power. This is an issue that egotistical idiots have (not calling you an idiot, but it is what it is), claiming men created this and that, when your ancestors are not the men that created it. Stop claiming power you personally don’t have. Stop claiming other men’s hard work as your own, especially when they put in the work to actually be productive members of society.

To the original twitter post, my dude you sound very stupid and seem like the kind that spends more time watching videos than actually reading on your countries history. The win was predictable, not because “men are becoming more right wing” but because this has been a common theme in America. These people are influenced by certain kind of media because deep down they already hold these beliefs, which is why they accept them. Men don’t genuinely want to see equality, hence why when they notice any group they view less than getting more rights they retaliate. The election result only tells us the reality of America as it pertains to race and sex (even more so when we look at the outcome of certain women’s voting history). So, the replies need to stop trying to make women take the blame for actions caused by other men. We should all aim to grow up.

To all the women/girls out there, avoid men that always want to be coddled and victimized. Most importantly find ways to protect yourselves, utilize the 2nd amendment given to you not by all men, but by the men that actually wrote it in. Protect yourselves by all means, and don’t be made to feel guilty for opting for safety over danger and stress.

I couldn't have said it better myself.

[keyotosprompts]

the best feelings

some things to incorporate in your story plot, or some things to imagine (platonic or romantic)

⇸ someone you love wrapping their arms around you from behind. you’ve never felt such warm, tight, strong love before. you wish it would never stop.

⇸ ^^ additionally: both turning towards each other at the same time, and then bumping noses. you two both laugh and you think to yourself that, this is it: this is all you need.

⇸ making that one person laugh, and then immediately breaking out into a smile afterwards. or, you try to hide the huge smile.

⇸ that feeling after ending a 6-hour text conversation with the person you can be yourself around (you don’t even notice that it’s been 6 hours)

⇸ finishing something that you've spent dozens of sleepless nights on

⇸ getting told, "i love you"

⇸ how all the air gets sucked out of you once something has been achieved

⇸ actually being able to enjoy waking up in the morning

⇸ ^ waking up in the morning to see that you aren't alone, and there is someone's arms clinging to your side. everything inside of you is filled with relaxation.

⇸ feeling the cold breeze after days of hot weather.

⇸ having someone help you put your shoes on (using their shoulder while slipping on your shoes)

⇸ gazing at someone, knowing that they’re yours forever

⇸ running into someone you like, constantly

⇸ unexpected meetings with someone you haven’t seen in a while

⇸ silence after a long day

⇸ kissing someone and you can feel all the love they put behind their lips. you feel it flowing into you.

⇸ looking back at old photos with your someone and reminiscing on how far you two have come. so much as happened since then, but the love has relatively stayed the same.

⇸ cats brushing up on your leg. cats laying down on you.

⇸ a dog following you around

⇸ inside the car with a good playlist. you know you’re gonna be entertained for hours.

⇸ being at the front of the line

⇸ “you’re my favorite!”

⇸ the graze of a person’s fingernails lightly scratching your back. you two are both laying down in bed with only the moonlight seaping in. this must be the most relaxed you’ve been in ages

⇸ a good finale of a tv show

⇸ saying a witty one-liner that makes people laugh

⇸ going to bed on time

⇸ finding the perfect scent

⇸ kissing someone on the cheek and watching the smile that breaks out after

[muletia]

[tfp] optimus prime x human!reader

summary: you had to go on a business trip. optimus doesn't take it too well

cw: obsessed!optimus, hardcore pinning, angst, i wanted to practice writing dialogues and it shows lmao

word count: 1800

an: i want you guys to know that i am reading EVERY reblog and comment from you swirling my hair and kicking my legs like a schoolgirl

you are so real for that anon

When you, out of your own free will, expressed the desire to join him on patrol, Optimus was overjoyed. You rarely got the chance to be together, just the two of you, always consumed by work or saving the world. And although Optimus wouldn’t dare ask you outright to accompany him on patrols (because the last thing he wanted was to make you feel uncomfortable), he deeply longed to spend more time with you alone. He knew he was feeding only his own illusions, fueling the machinery of madness, but by this point, he couldn’t stop. Not when you sat comfortably on his seat, gazing at the views outside the window, visibly content with your outing together.

He wanted so badly for this to be your everyday reality. Maybe then he could finally find some relief from his fixation, maybe you would even save him.

"Hey," you started, and his entire attention focused on you. "Actually, I’ve been meaning to tell you this for a while."

Oh.

Did your feelings match his? Did you feel affection for him as well? Had you noticed his suffering? Or maybe you wanted to reject him, once and for all, to make him understand that his passion was an illusion, that no matter how much he wanted it, the two of you could never be together — too incompatible, too different. That he had developed this coping mechanism, exhausted by the war.

But before Optimus could spiral further, you crushed his hopes.

"The company I work for is sending me on a business trip," you sighed, clearly dissatisfied with the news. "It’s supposed to take two weeks, but you never really know with these trips, especially since they’re sending me across the continent."

"I understand," he replied, his tone not betraying the turmoil within. "What does this business trip involve?"

"Oh, shoot, sorry! I should have explained that right away," you laughed casually as if you hadn’t just delivered news that shattered his spark. "Business trip is assigned by an employer for training sessions, conferences, exhibitions, and other boring stuff. Kind of like a mission, but without explosions, action, or danger."

It was good to hear that you’d be safe, though you would truly be safest only at the base, under his watchful optics.

Pessimistic, ugly thoughts churned in his processor. Of all the things he expected to hear from you, this wasn’t one of them. Suddenly, he feared being alone, feared his own dreams. Because he knew you wouldn’t be there to comfort him after a nightmare, and nothing else could bring him peace.

"I am sorry to hear we will not see each other for two weeks," he said, "but I am confident you will do exceptionally well on this assignment. You are dependable, unyielding. You can handle anything."

"Oh, thank you," you answered, a bit flustered. You hadn’t expected a compliment. "It just makes me sad to leave Jasper. I don’t say it often enough, but I have a wonderful time with all of you. With you."

"Likewise, [Name]. When are you leaving?"

"The day after tomorrow. Tomorrow after work, I’ll say goodbye to everyone else."

So soon. Too soon. He’d hoped you wouldn’t leave until next week, to at least give him time to mentally prepare for the separation, but you denied him that luxury. Not that any amount of time would have prepared him for this.

Slowly, subtly enough that you wouldn’t notice the change, he reduced his speed, prolonging your shared drive.

"I’m not sure I’ll have time to write," you warned. "Unfortunately, they’ve given me a really tight schedule. But! If I can, I’ll write to the kids. Oh, and expect some souvenirs — I’ll bring something back for you all."

"You do not need to spend your valuable time searching for trinkets. But if you insist, I will cherish anything you bring me."

"Aw, don’t worry—it’ll be no trouble." You waved your hand dismissively. "You do so much for me, for the kids, for the whole Earth without asking for anything in return. You deserve something nice."

"I do not protect your planet for glory or offerings."

"I know, I know. That’s very noble. And amazing. So many years, sticking firmly to your values."

He eagerly soaked up your praise, allowing himself, if only for a brief moment, to forget the world around him, to forget his duties, unfulfilled promises, fallen brothers and sisters. He’d never describe himself as 'amazing', nor did he believe the praise his own kind gave him about his greatness. But for you, he could believe it. If only for a moment, a few seconds, so that you’d leave on your mission thinking warmly of your time together and of him.

"Thank you, [Name]. Please know that I value your words tremendously."

"Oh," you blushed, "that’s nice to hear."

Embarrassed, you quickly changed the subject, unaware that Optimus was watching you closely, curious about your reaction. For now, he pushed thoughts of your departure to the back of his processor, wanting to fully enjoy your presence. You recommended songs from the country genre, one of his favorite discoveries on Earth, which he promised to listen to later. He knew well that this would lead to more daydreaming, imagining a future that would never be. Because no matter how hard he tried, his tomorrow would not be entwined with yours. His desires would forever remain mere fantasies born out of desperation, longing, and sorrow.

A week had passed since you left. In the lives of the Autobots, not much had changed because of your absence; they went on with their chaotic schedule. The kids, however, missed you. No more evenings spent helping them with their homework, working on your reports, playing games, or simply chatting. The worst part was that no one really knew what was going on with you. You rarely messaged, didn’t have time to talk, and when you did, it was just to say, "I’m alive, it’s boring, I’ll message you on Thursday." Life continued, despite how much Miko wished she could play games with you instead of doing her homework.

Everyone managed to adapt to your absence.

With one exception.

At first glance, it seemed like Optimus, the bot with whom you shared the closest bond, hadn’t been affected by such a drastic change. Nothing in his behavior indicated any longing. He didn’t express his opinion on the matter, didn’t ask, didn’t demand. As always, he buried his feelings deep within, playing the role of a diligent leader, hiding from everyone the nightmares running through his processor, now even more intense because of your absence.

He was withering, quietly and alone.

Until now, he had been content simply watching you. He had established a routine, unhealthy as it was, that kept him going. He knew that most of the time when he returned from patrol or a mission, you would be at the base. Even if you came every other or every third day, Optimus knew that eventually, you would show up. It gave him a sense of stability amidst the chaos surrounding him. But now? Maybe two weeks wasn’t a big challenge for you, but he was done after one.

Now, he wanted to be more than a passive observer. He craved physical contact, to hold you close, to feel your heartbeat against his metal. He wanted to know you were alive, to feel your pulse under his digit, to listen to its rhythm, to understand how your chest moved against his metal. He wanted to feel, taste, touch, enter.

He kept glancing at the spot on the couch where you usually sat with your laptop on your lap or spent time with the kids as if hoping that if he looked just one more time, you would materialize there. That everything would return to normal, that he wouldn’t suffer so much, that you would give him the daily dose of antidote he needed to function without plunging deeper into despair. But no matter how many times he looked, you weren’t there, and wouldn’t be for another week.

At some point, however, someone noticed their leader’s miserable mood.

"I can’t quite figure out what kind of bond you have with that woman," Ratchet said, pausing his work to look at Optimus. Before his friend could answer, he continued, "But she’ll be back soon. And whatever she’s doing, she’ll do it well. She’s tough."

"Thank you, old friend. I have no doubt in her abilities. But I would feel better if she were stationed closer to the base in case of a Decepticon attack."

"Mm-hmm," the medic scoffed. "Sure, that’s all it’s about."

Optimus had no response to that. He wasn’t surprised that Ratchet noticed his infatuation, but he would prefer that his friend not delve into the details of their relationship. At least, not yet. Not while Optimus himself was a wreck.

"Hey, hey! [Name] messaged!" Miko yelled.

The Autobot leader immediately approached the platform, finally abandoning his conversation with Ratchet, aware that it would only spark more suspicions. But he didn’t care anymore, not in such an important moment.

He stood directly behind Miko, with Bumblebee and Bulkhead beside him, equally curious to know what you had been up to over the past week.

"She sent photos, too! Look!"

Miko turned to show the messages to the others but paused when she noticed Optimus’s helm close to her.

“Whoa,” she whispered, surprised that out of all the bots, he was the one standing the closest. She swallowed, but her confidence quickly returned.

Holding her phone firmly, she displayed a close-up selfie of you. You were smiling, though the bags under your eyes betrayed that you were sleep-deprived, probably exhausted.

Optimus felt the accumulated stress, pain, and longing of the past week slowly dissipate. Everything was fine with you. You were alive, pushing forward with a smile on your face, happy to simply exist. Admiring your photo didn’t compare to seeing you in person, but it let him vent a little easier, granting him a brief respite from worry, gnawing at him from within. It was enough. For now. For a moment.

“She sends her regards to everyone,” Miko went on, “Oh, and she also asked Ratchet to take a break and mentioned she already bought a gift for Optimus and can’t wait to come back. Hey, I want a present, too!”

Optimus couldn't be certain if another week apart wouldn’t inflict even more damage on his processor and spark, or if longing would eventually consume him entirely. But he knew he was already lost, that you held sway over every aspect of his life. He was wrapped around your finger, tethered by a leash you didn’t even realize existed. And he didn’t mind one bit.

[godsfavdarling]

waiting for the day to end

my masterlist

pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader summary: You and Spencer come back to his apartment, and your boyfriend’s drunken state brings old wounds to the surface. words: 2,3k warnings: angst, panic attack, drunk Spencer, mentions reader's ex-bf who was an alcoholic, no y/n a/n: I'm imagining later seasons Spence but I am not gonna yuck anybody's yam!

You smoothly place the keys in the lock of his apartment and quickly turn them twice to unlock the door. The dark room abruptly brightens when you flick the light switch on.

Spencer, who has been leaning against the wall near you, stumbles into the room right behind you.

The door slams shut behind him, the thud reverberating through the room.

You flinch, spinning around at the jarring sound.

“Sorry,” Spencer mumbles, a bit unsteady.

He throws himself onto the armchair with a heavy sigh, his head lolling back as he closes his eyes.

You murmur under your breath, “I’ll get you some water,” and head toward the kitchen, your heels clacking against the floor. 

In the quiet, you take a few deep breaths to steady yourself before filling two glasses of water. 

When you bring them back, you hand one to Spencer, urging him to drink. He gulps it down immediately, nearly draining the glass in one go.

You’ve never really seen him like this.

Spencer rarely—almost never—drinks. But tonight, it’s obvious just how far gone he is. He’s coherent enough to hold himself up, and his words still make sense, but you can tell he isn’t fully present. 

He was already fading hours ago, just an hour into dinner at Rossi's when his team had convinced him to relax and celebrate Garcia’s birthday with a few drinks.

Now, he’s staring off into space, eyes glassy, a faint smile still lingering from whatever joke had last drifted through his mind. You swallow, feeling the anxiety tug at you.

You felt it early on. But you tried to ignore it.

Spencer was different. 

He was responsible and careful. He liked being sober and in control. He was someone who avoided excess.

He was not a drunk. 

You knew all this and tried to stay rational. 

After his third drink, though, all that rationality flew out the window. With the last gulp of his third drink, you decided to excuse yourself, claiming you weren't feeling well, and spent most of the evening outside. The poker game was so intense that no one really questioned you or bothered to check on you.

You had thought, knowing Spencer’s sharp observation skills, that he would come find you shortly and ask what was wrong. He always did. He could always tell when something was off and always wanted to know. But tonight, he didn’t.

You waited, each minute stretching longer than the last, hoping he’d realize and come find you, that he’d be his usual self. But as the laughter and clinking glasses carried on from inside, you realized he was somewhere you couldn’t reach him tonight.

As you watched him now, slouched in the armchair with you far away from him sitting on the edge of the couch, your heart ached. 

This wasn’t the Spencer you knew. He was lost in his thoughts, barely acknowledging your presence. You handed him your glass of water, and he took it with a mumbled "thanks", sipping it more slowly this time.

“Spencer, are you okay?” you finally asked, unable to keep the concern out of your voice.

He looked up at you, his eyes a bit clearer but still distant. “Yeah, just... tired,” he replied, his voice heavy with exhaustion.

You nodded, but the anxiety still sat inside you.

Stop!

Spencer is not him! 

He is nothing like him!

You keep staring at him, fidgeting with your fingers and the hem of your black velvet dress, feeling helpless as you try to guess what he wants. 

Is he going to stay here for a while? Does he need more water? Is he going to shower, or maybe just head to bed?

Finally, Spencer glances up, his gaze focusing on you as if for the first time tonight. His brows knit together as he notices the anxious look in your eyes. 

"What’s wrong?" he asks, his voice soft but tinged with confusion.

You swallow, feeling a rush of emotions you’ve been holding back all evening. He’s looking at you now, really looking, like he usually does, but something about his unsteady, drunken state makes you hesitate. 

He’s here, yet somehow not fully here, and you’re not sure how to answer.

You force a smile, shrugging as if it’s nothing, but your heart pounds. "Just… tired, I guess."

Spencer’s gaze doesn’t waver, and you know he sees through your answer, even in his state. 

Now he sees. 

He’s silent, watching you with a slight frown like he’s trying to piece together a puzzle. The quiet stretches between you, heavy and thick.

You glance away, twisting the hem of your dress tighter. 

"Maybe you should get some rest," you say, your voice barely more than a whisper. You try to keep the tremor out, but it’s there. A lot of it.

He’s never seen you like this—not this vulnerable, this close to tears. You’ve not been dating that long. A lot of things are still unknown, unsaid, unshared and the toxic, drunk but highly functioning, unpredictable boyfriends have not yet come out in any conversation.

"I’ll be fine," Spencer mutters, rubbing his face with one hand as he sinks further into the chair.

His words are gentle, but they’re not the reassurance you’re aching for. 

You wish he’d tell you he’d never do this again, that he understands why this is hard for you. But he doesn’t. He just looks at you, distant and hazy.

A lump forms in your throat as the silence presses down on you. You stand up, needing some distance, and force a tight smile. "I’ll let you get some sleep. I’ll go… take a walk or something."

As you turn to leave, Spencer reaches out, his fingers brushing your arm. "Hey," he murmurs, his voice soft but unsteady. "It’s like 2 AM. You’re not going anywhere alone."

You stop, frozen, a tightness forming in your chest. You want to say it’s fine, that you just need space, but the words feel like they’re stuck in your throat. Instead, he continues, unaware of how badly his presence is affecting you right now.

“Let’s take a walk together. It’ll help,” he offers, his voice tinged with concern, though still a little slurred.

You turn sharply, frustration and something darker bubbling up in your chest. “No!” you snap, louder than you intended, the word echoing in the quiet room. You instantly regret it, but the hurt is too raw, too overwhelming. You try to swallow the sudden surge of emotion, but it’s too much.

You finally realize that his hand in on your arm, and the realization hits like a cold wave. You feel an intense rush of discomfort. You don’t want him near you right now. 

The feeling of his fingers on your skin, even though they’re meant to comfort, feels wrong.

You can’t breathe. You can’t handle his touch, not like this, not after everything that’s happened. You jerk away, backing up, your heart hammering.

Without a word, you turn and storm toward the bathroom. You lock the door behind you and lean against it for a second, trying to steady your breath. 

The walls feel like they’re closing in, the anger and fear swirling inside you until you can hardly tell the difference between the two.

It’s not his fault, you think, taking a deep breath, trying to calm the storm inside your chest.

He’s just drunk, he’ll be sober soon, but... why does it still feel so wrong?

You press your hands to your face, feeling the tears already starting to form.

I’m not that person anymore. I’m not going to let this take me back. I can’t let it.

Your thoughts race, but you force yourself to focus, turning the shower on. The sound of the water helps. 

You quickly but clumsily step out of the dress and underwear, leaving them in a heap on the tiles. 

You step under the hot spray, closing your eyes, letting the warmth soothe the tension in your muscles.

Just wash it off, just wash it off, you tell yourself as if the water could cleanse more than just your skin.

You’re lost in the sensation of the water for long minutes when there’s a gentle knock on the bathroom door. 

You freeze. Your heart skipping a beat.

“Hey… uh… I really need to pee,” Spencer calls out, his voice even softer than before.

You swallow, fighting the panic rising in your throat, and quickly shut off the water. You wrap a towel around your body and open the door just enough for you to slip past him. Without a word, you go into the bedroom and gracelessly put on one of the shirts you left in his drawer.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow everything will be fine, you think, climbing into bed, curling up under the covers. 

You just want this day to end. You need it to end.

Then it hits you—you’re in his bed.

You stand up and then sit again on the edge.

You should go home. You should be in your own bed. You want to get up, gather your things, get dressed, and leave, but you're paralyzed. You're overwhelmed. You can’t breathe. You can’t move.

Then Spencer walks into the room, his gaze landing on you. As if he can read the turmoil in your mind, he says softly, "It's late. Stay here tonight. Take the bed. I’ll take the couch."

You don’t say anything, unable to find the words.

He pauses, watching you for a moment, before quietly pulling his pajamas from the closet and heading into the bathroom.

You just need to sleep. You’ll sleep it off, and when you wake up, things will make sense again. Maybe Spencer will apologize. 

Apologize for what?

He didn’t do anything wrong.

He’ll be sober. Everything will go back to normal.

But sleep doesn’t come. The bed feels cold, and the silence in the room is suffocating. You can’t shake the thoughts in your head.

What if he doesn’t remember?

What if he won’t leave it and you’ll have to explain and he’ll be angry?

Why are you angry?

Why are you upset?

Just as you're about to give up on sleep altogether, you hear the soft creak of the door opening. Spencer slips into the room quietly, his footsteps hesitant. He walks to the bed, sitting down beside you without saying anything at first.

"Are you asleep?" he asks quietly, his voice gentle, almost too careful. You feel his gaze on you, even though you’re facing the window, your back to him.

You don’t answer at first. You don’t want to talk to him right now. You don’t want to explain why everything feels broken. You don’t want him to ask.

But you can feel him there, his presence. 

Finally, he speaks again, his voice low but steady. “Please... can we talk? I don't wanna go to bed with you upset and angry.”

You don’t move, staring into the dark. You wish you could say the right thing. You wish you could fix it, but all you feel is a dull ache in your chest, and the thought that maybe nothing will ever be the same again.

Spencer’s hand reaches out, his fingers trembling slightly as he hesitates for a moment before gently moving toward you. "Hey, I—" His voice cracks, and you can hear the sorrow in it, the regret, the helplessness.

But as his arms come closer, something inside you recoils. You can’t have him near you right now. Not like this. Not when everything feels so wrong.

You flinch, turning away from him instinctively, the words coming out before you even have a chance to stop them. “Please don’t touch me.”

The words hang between you like a heavyweight. 

Spencer freezes, his hand hovering in mid-air, and for a second, everything is still. You can hear his breathing — shallow, uneven — as if he’s trying to understand, trying to process what just happened.

You don’t want him to feel hurt, but you can’t help it. You feel exposed, vulnerable, like a raw nerve, and his touch, even if it's meant to comfort, feels suffocating.

“Okay,” Spencer finally says, his voice small, resigned. He pulls his hand back slowly, as though giving you space to breathe. 

You don’t look at him. You can’t. 

“I’m sorry,” he adds, his voice distant now, like he’s trying to find his footing again. “I just... I’m not sure what happened. I know hurt you. I don’t know how but I’m sorry.”

The silence lingers, thick and uncomfortable, wrapping itself around both of you. Spencer hesitates for a long moment, unsure of what to do or say next. You can feel his eyes on you, but you don’t lift yours. 

Finally, he clears his throat softly.

“I’ll... I’ll sleep on the couch tonight,” he says, his voice gentle and careful like he’s trying not to disturb the fragile air between you.

“It’s okay. If you want to talk... or anything... just come and tell me. I’ll be here.”

You don’t say anything. You still don’t look at him. But you can hear the sincerity in his voice, the aching honesty of it.

If only his words, his willingness to be there even when you’ve pushed him away could make things better.

But you don’t answer him, because you don’t have the strength to. You don’t know what to say.

Spencer sighs quietly, almost like a final surrender, and then you hear his footsteps moving away from you.

The door opens and closes softly behind him, and you’re left alone in the silence of the room once more.

Spencer’s words echo in your mind, but they don’t bring comfort. Not yet. 

[blueicequeen19]

Crash Out

Warnings: unprotected sex, fingering, angry JJ, orgasm denial, edging

“You can’t be here!” You hiss, pushing at his chest and urging him toward the door but JJ doesn’t budge. He’s slick with sweat while panting to catch his breath. That’s when you notice the bat hanging at his side and the sound of sirens drawing closer.

“What did you do?” You demand, eyes hard as you stare back at him. The fire in his eyes seems to morph into something else as he takes in your sleep attire.

“Fair is fair.” JJ rasps, his voice gruff like he’s been yelling.

“What does that mean?”

“They took what’s ours.” JJ’s jaw clenches as he takes a step forward, the bat still in his hand.

“Who did?” You step back as he advances. Your back meets the wall in the hallway and his chest brushes against yours. Your nipples harden against his chest and his eyes are glued down your cami.

“You and your Kooks.” JJ growls, causing you to flinch when he suddenly drops the bat, making it clatter on the hardwood floor.

“I didn’t do anything.”

“Your daddy is the mayor. You had to know what they’ve been planning. Another fucking club? Don’t you people have enough? Why do you have to take from us too?” JJ’s hands slam against the wall on either side of you, caging you in as he presses harder against you. He was hard. So hard that you could feel every ridge through his jeans against your stomach.

“JJ—.”

“Turn around.” JJ snarls, not giving you a moment before he spins you around. Your cheek meets the wall, your body buzzing as he presses his erection against your ass. You knew what this was, what he needed. So you pressed back, grinding your ass against him in a silent plea.

“Don’t make this more than it is.” JJ rasps, yanking your sleep shorts and panties down in one go. The cold air hits between your legs, making you shudder against the wall. His warm, callused hands find your ass, caressing the flesh before landing a sharp smack. You gasp, attempting to pull away but he yanks you back, slapping your ass again.

“JJ—.”

“Shut up.” You attempt to turn around but he holds you in place, dipping a hand between your legs and stroking your slit. “I don’t want to see your face.” A thick finger enters you forcing you up on your toes with a loud groan.

“So fucking wet so me. I wonder what your daddy would think.” You open your mouth to argue but he adds another finger, making you lose the ability to think or speak. JJ fingers you hard, the sloppy sound of your wetness echoing in the dark hallway. Just when you’re close, he stops, quickly replacing his fingers with something much thicker.

“JJ..”

“This is for me, not you.” JJ growls in your ear, yanking back on your hair as he sinks in balls deep in one go. You whimper loudly, his cock so deep that it hurt. He shoves your legs farther apart before he starts to fuck you. It’s hard and it’s fast. Your moans echo down the hall as JJ pants in your ear. His cock was so deep and hard that you could feel him wherever while you tried to meet every thrust.

Suddenly, he was pulling out and shoving you onto your hands and knees on the rug. You look back over your shoulder, savoring the way his eyes start to roll back as he enters you again from behind. You notice he’s ditched his jacket and t-shirt at some point, leaving him in just his low hanging jeans. Then he’s quickly shoving your face down against the rug as he starts to move.

You bite your lip to keep from crying out, his movements so rough and hard, the new position even deeper than before. Your knees scrape against the rug and his hands leave a bruising grip on your body. It’s too much. Your hand flies back to push at his thigh for some sort of break but he simply uses the opportunity to pin your arms behind your back. Your nails scrape against his abs, making him hiss as he fucks you harder.

“JJ.. I’m gonna cum.” Your body tightens, legs shaking uncontrollably as you near your peak.

“Don’t you dare.” His punishing pace slows, causing you to cry out in frustration as you claw at his abdonmen and move your hips back against him, desperate for friction. His hands release yours to grip your hips to halt your movements as a mocking laugh leaves him.

“I bet your daddy would lose his mind over his pretty little daughter desperate and wet for Pogue dick.” You angrily move to sit up but he shoves you back down, thrusting in hard, just once. Your body trembles and your pussy pulses, seeking the pleasure he’s denying.

“Fuck me or get out, Pogue.” You bite out, reaching between your legs to stroke your clit. Your walls clench around his dick, making him groan, deep and sexy.

“You’re not in charge, slut. So shut up and take what I give you.” JJ’s strokes turn punishing, so hard and fast that you can’t catch your breath and tears fill your eyes from the intensity of it. You were on the verge of something explosive. The two of you didn’t go beyond sex but something about you craved his darkness and the way he took it out on your body. He never failed to leave you spent in a puddle of your mixed releases before letting the door slam shut behind him.

“JJ—I—I—.” Your words trail off, toes starting to curl as your eyes begin to roll back in your head. But the promise of pleasure is ripped away when he stops abruptly to shove you on your back. You’re too caught off guard to do anything but watch and blink up at him as he strokes his cock almost angrily, grunting with each rough tug until he erupts, painting your chest and part of your face in his cum. Your tongue darts out, tasting what landed on your lips as he releases one last, panty dropping groan and the last drop of cum falls from the swollen tip. JJ’s eyes lock on yours as he tucks himself away and stands, leaving you in a mess on the floor. You sit up, watching him tug his shirt on and wiping the sweat from his brow on the nearby curtains.

“I didn’t know about any of it.” You finally say, feeling his warm cum start to slide down your chest. JJ shakes his head as he throws the back door open without another backwards glance.

“I don’t fucking believe you.”

Then the door slams shut behind him.