#i don't really have another place to vent on this (and i really hope this is the last from here)

[lucyvaleheart]

.

[penrose-quinn]

I hope my three day trip with my friends will finally put my mind at peace. I just feel so lonely...

[starvulture]

anyway, since im in financial aid hell with my school rn....

simon riley who really is only an acquaintance to you, some guy you're friendly with because you seem to have a similar routine when it comes to the cafe two blocks from your house and the physical therapist office you both attend.

simon, who's on extended medical leave from a torn rotator cuff surgery and six weeks into twelve of his own physical therapy treatment.

simon who overhears you with a friend in the cafe one morning venting your frustrations with the cost of school and the limits of your own finances. who doesn't mention it until you're both in the waiting room, sitting with one chair between you as usual (he's a big guy, he likes the space to spread his legs. he pretends he hasn't seen your glances).

"going back to school, then?" he asks, quiet and gruff as always.

you wrinkle your nose at the reminder of your current stresses. "yeah," you say, staring down at the carpet. "dunno if i can afford it, though. rent's already so high, and groceries, and then this..." you gesture vaguely, but he knows you mean whatever condition it is you're here for is bleeding you dry.

"shame," he says, and leaves it at that.

"what do you do?" you ask after a long moment of silence. a muscle in his thigh twitches.

"military," he says, meeting your eye when you finally look at him.

you nod, a puzzle piece sliding into place about why he must be here in this office with you. "ah."

"benefits aren't bad," he says, quietly. "medical's paying for all o' this." he nods around the room, a much more leisurely mirror of your earlier hand gesture.

"i should hope so, considering they probably put you where you got whatever it is you're here for." the corner of your mouth lifts in a wry smile.

the conversation stops there when one of you is called in to your appointment. simon doesn't bring it up again, not until something changes.

you run into each other at a bar.

simon's got a beer in hand, something cold and refreshing while he catches up with soap and gaz in the corner. they're on a brief leave and stopped by to visit for an evening before fucking off for a week to wherever it is they have plans to be. simon won't ever say it in as many words, not right now, but he's glad to see them, happy to listen to whatever story they're telling him, until he sees you.

he downs the beer for an excuse to go get another, waving off the two men who offer to go get it when he says "need to stretch my legs," eyes fixed on you the whole time.

"celebratin'?" he asks when he slides into an empty space beside you at the counter, catching the bartender's attention for a refill with a lazy raise of his empty bottle.

"simon," you greet in surprise. he nods at your drink and your slight smile slides away. "not really," you reply to his question. "more like drowning my sorrows. i don't think school's gonna happen this time."

simon frowns, eyes scanning you up and down. your drooped, sad shoulders, the sad, slightly bitter smile that doesn't reach your eyes.

"you know," he says, slowly, as if hesitant. normally wouldn't even dare to think it if he hadn't had just enough to drink. "there's plenty scholarships for military spouses."

it's a wonder he can keep a straight face at the shocked raise of your eyebrows.

[mayasaurusss]

Hello, I really liked the way you write about Jinx, can you please write about how femme! the reader and Isha fall into a trap and as a result, while protecting Isha, the reader is injured and Jinx goes into her killer mode (you don’t have to write if you don’t want to) you can just write aftercare if you want

A helping hand

A/N: and here it's finally done! I could have made this oneshot quicker and shorter but then I got chaught up in writing it... and I woke up eight days later with this in my drafts😂. I don't ususally like how I handle stories, but I think that this one turned out pretty good. As mentioned in another post, it's very heavily plot driven and it's a wopping eleven pages worth of writing. My grammar, as always, might not be the top gamma. I hope you guys will enjoy it! Also this was mixed with something someone suggested on ao3!

Contains: female reader, violence, murder, mentions of saliva and vomiting, hurt and comfort, very heavily plot driven, happy ending with a happy family. Lenght: 6k/ 11 pages.

The limited air inside the vent makes you choke on your breath, chemicals and smoke filling your lungs and hollowing your brain. A loud sound echoes inside the metal hull, alerting every one of your senses. "Isha! Be careful!" you whisper-yell at the kid, who's crouching in front of you, placing her hat back on.

She just huffs in response, rolling her eyes before continuing her tour inside Zaun's vents. Isha has not been too fond of you since you entered her life; one reason could be that she thought she had to compete with you for Jinx's attention. The other reason, maybe, is that you were from topside. Piltover, The City of Progress. The city who exploited and hurt the poor citizens of the Undercity. Avid hands commanding from atop marble skyscrapers, grinning smiles sucking away the air of the lanes.

It's no wonder you're not Isha's favorite; Sevika too seemed to have a disdain for you, either because of your privileged position or for the way Jinx was distracted and dreamy when you were near.

To ingratiate yourself into Isha's favours and to make it at least somewhat pleasant for both of you to be near each other, you agreed to follow her in a walk through the lanes.

Jinx had invited you into her own private lair, after much convincing on her part. One day, she just swept you up and brought you down with her, making you walk through fissures, alleys and neon lit streets.

"You should have a tour of The Lanes, y'know, to learn how life's like down here" a flicker of a spark reflecting in her goggles as she made some of her obscure machine-thingies. "So give me one" you said, prompting Jinx to hum in thought. "I am busy today, and Sev' is too. Besides, I don't think you'll enjoy each other's company" she glanced at Isha, who was drawing Stinkmaw on her notebook. "You'll just have to settle for Isha" the kid propped her head up at the mention of her name, already looking with stars in her eyes at Jinx, not aware of your previous conversation. "What do you say Isha? Want to have fun with your new friend? Give her a tour of the Undercity?", Isha sized you from head to toe with a snarl on her lips, eyes moving between you and Jinx while her face became more and more agitated. "Come on, she's not that boring" Jinx moved back to her work, sparks flying and lit up her face, "I should know". Your face grew hot with her words, remembering what happened between you two just weeks prior. Isha gave a disgusted 'ew', before Jinx turned her head to watch the kid, a shadow of anger in her eyes. "No excuses! Come on, just go around a bit, become friends!".

"Jinx I, I don't think this is a wise idea. I mean, Isha is just a kid: what if something happens? I-" Jinx interrupted you, her voice almost lost between the screeching sounds of metal scraps flickering sparks between each other. "You'll both be fine. Isha is a smart kid, she'll get out of any situation. As for you..." she turned to you, a teasing glint in her eyes, "...will you be able to keep up with her?".

'No, not at all' you answer to her mental image, struggling to keep your pace behind Isha. The kid is fast inside these tunnels, and your body is not accustomed to their narrow spaces and to the flow of smoke and waste. The metal feels light and shaky under your weight, giving you the impression that at the slightest of pressure, you will sink beneath and break your ribs into the concrete of just another of Zaun's alleys. You steady on, carefully applying your weight where each border of the metal tubes meet, following the shadow of Isha.

After what feels like ages, you finally spot the end of a tunnel, light shining on the dirty buildings giving it a green hue. Isha crawls towards it, leaving you behind in the dusty tunnels, prompting you to follow her quickly. The kid has already jumped in the street below, adjusting her hat on, turning her back to you while she begins to walk away. You take in a deep breath, calculating the height of your jump, before falling messily on the concrete.

"Ack, shit" Isha gives you a dirty look, "What?". She just rolls her eyes, before continuing on, not waiting for you. The Undercity is just what you expected: crowds of people fill it's street, smoking and squaring you up; sellers shout to lure in buyers, presenting their merch of metal husks, hundreds of different flavours of tobacco and pieces of meat that you'd rather not know from what they came from. At the far corners, gang groups threaten and push against each other, their blades glinting with a malicious look. The streets are lit by bright neon signs, filled with all possible smells and gasses, overcrowded to the point that you're short of breath. Distantly, you can hear the sound of machinery evermoving, of water and air and of shipments departing from shore. The city itself beats and pumps, like a living heart.

Everything is suffocating; too loud, too much. And what's worse is, everyone knows that you don't belong. Their eyes are envious, angry, a dangerous hate barely hidden beneath their scleras. Hell, Isha, the kid who is known to have a kind heart, can barely hide it. For a moment, too caught up in your mind and it's worries, you miss Isha turning around, entering a dark hallway. You follow her blue locks until you're far from people, now only surrounded by high walls and some couples making out in a corner. On one wall there are signs of damage: claws and dents and what looks to be a... strange green goop staining the bricks, along with scraps of metal of an exoskeleton.

You find Isha sitting at the corner where the street opens, back against the wall. You are not too sure what she is doing: after all, she has proved to be rather uninterested in you. What you don't realize, not at first anyway, is that she had run through the crowd into the alley to lure you away from that noisy hell so you'd have time to get used to it. Sliding down next to her, your clothes drag down the dirt and dust of years behind them. Silence feels heavy above your head, the distant sounds of the crowd the only thing keeping you at least a bit sane.

Isha has found a pastime in rolling the hem of her hat on the ground, trying to make a perfect spin with it. The sounds of metal against concrete screech inside the hallway, attracting more than just one pair of eyes. You can feel Isha's reluctance to begin so close to you, probably thinking to herself that it was a mistake waiting for you. When the silence feels too heavy, then you finally speak. "Isha...listen" the hat spinning stops abruptly, it's hem catched between Isha's thumb and index finger. "I know you don't like me" she's surprised that you decided to face the problem right away; it's not something your people are known for. "You've made it all too clear these past days. I know you are wary of me; I know the Undercity is wary of us". The kid's eyes are now on you, studying, squaring you up, detecting any lies that you may hide under your sweet words.

"But... I am not my city. I know what you have been through and I am..." you falter for a moment, thinking that you're starting to sound a little too guilty and invested in this, and that she may recognize this as insincere. "What I meant to say is... I would like to be your friend, if you want to".

Isha doesn't answer you right away, but you see a small smile spread on her lips. You breathe a sigh of relief at successfully bringing down her walls.

She jumps back up, extending her hand to yours, palm open and a curious smile on her face. You take it, careful to not push your weight down on her before you too stand up.

"Come on, let's go home. This is good enough of a tour for me today", you take Isha's hand, ready to walk back to Jinx's, before something clutters inside the hallways, spreading its dull, hollow metal sound everywhere. The sound gets closer and closer, the item of its origin stopping its course at your feet. It's a cylinder shaped, stubby looking object; drawn on its surface are what you recognize to be Jinx's drawings, imitating a grinning gaping mouth of some evil creature. The red light you are so familiar with, the one which with Jinx blows her enemies to bits, is off.

"Well, look what we have here. The runt of that crazed bitch and Piltover's finest trash". From under the fuming tubes, a tall, scruffy looking man shows up. His hair is in a buzz cut style, thin muscles tightly attached to his bones, making him look starved and unkept. Black tattooed run over his forehead and cheeks, giving his sulken eyes even more of a crazed look. His goons all show up after him, exiting from their hidden spots. "What do you want?" you try to sound though, but the wavering of your voice only gives away your fears. Isha hides behind you, clutching tightly at the fabric of your pants.

"Oh we don't want anything from you. But you see..." he reaches to fish something out of his pants. You see it before he shows it: the hem of a knife. He slides the blade out of its sheath, glimmering dangerously in the dark. "...that darling bitch of yours took something from us. Well, to be honest, someone. Someone very dear to our group" you look in between you and Isha, then at the distance between you and the goons, trying to think of an escape.

"What do you mean? How do you know Jin-" he laughs creepily, a little too high for your tastes, echoing between the walls. "How do I know Jinx? Everyone knows Jinx!" he gesticulates with the knife still in his hand, dangerously close to hitting himself in the eye with it. He inspects the blade with something dark inside his thoughts, dulling the colour out of his eyes. With a creepy and disturbing smile on his lips, he runs his finger along the line, blood trickling down its shape. He seems to take a sick kind of pleasure from seeing red staining the metal. "I gotta give it to her though, she really aimed high: fucking someone from Piltover is something none of us would dirty ourselves trying to".

A vein under your skin pumps blood into your brain faster, giving you the prospect of an annoying headache, "Watch that tone-". "Never thought that that small, smart runt would become what she is today. Powder really outdid herself", you don't miss the cruel smirk which paints his lips, enjoying infecting your relationship with Jinx. "Powder?" the name doesn't ring a bell, and you're left with the man's ominous eyes peering into your heart, telling you that 'you don't know anything'.

"Oh look, trust runs so deep between you two that you don't even know her real name! Did you really think a parent could ever name their child 'Jinx'?" the rest of his group laughs and mocks you like their leader is, like a hoard of sheep follows their shepard. "I don't need to know her name. If there is a reason why Po- Jinx is keeping her real name a secret from me, I am not gonna pry it open from her" you can feel your heart pump blood faster into your veins, that small headache becoming stronger and stronger as anger takes hold of your actions. "Mhm? Just like she kept her family's deaths a secret?" those words feel heavy when he speaks them, clearly holding some truth behind them. You try to remain calm but anger and fear are affecting your judgment. "W-What? What the fuck are you talking about?" their ugly laughs fill your ears, only aiding in alimenting the fire at your heart. "After our little...fight, he changed. He started to hang out with the wrong people, doing the wrong things..." slowly, ever so slowly, all of them start to circle around you. One, two, four, six of them, sporting grinning smiles, stalking you like hyenas.

"But he would have been the same has always, even if he had become dumber than he was. He would have been alive too, at this moment, if Vander hadn't intervened". None of what this man is saying makes sense to you. He's talking to you, but his words are meant for others: for his friends, for Isha, for Jinx. You, once again, are reminded that you're not welcome here. In their eyes, hate and hunger swirl, creating a whirlwind that sucks away at your courage, "Just...what do you want from me?!".

"Jinx and that sister of hers took our friend from us. Our boss. Now-" with mastered precision, he makes the blade jump from his hands, now it's tip pointing towards the ground. Something that you can only describe as burning hatred and killing intent paints his features, before he screams a rallying cry, "It's our turn taking everything from her!".

That is enough for the whole lot of them to pounce. One moment, and they are all on you; punching, kicking, twisting your hair in their grasp, snarling and mocking. In the confusion you lose Isha, not being able to distinguish her blue locks in between all that green and grey. For a split second, after they consume their gloves on you, no one is holding you down. You take the occasion to slip away from their grasps, falling backwards into the opening street. You take a second to choose what to do, and as you run towards the crowd once again, following where you assume Isha went, a feeling of anger rises in your stomach. The sound of the busy street echoes, a distant reminder that you have a life to return to, but something tugs at your heart to look at them in the eyes. Blood pumps fast in your veins, alerting every muscle, every bone, every fiber that danger is near, you need to go, but your heart, brain, the pride you take in begin still alive overtakes your judgment. You stop to look at them, the prospect of a challenge in your eyes, of saying 'Look at me!' and incite them to follow 'I am still alive!'.

They look like ravenous beasts, hunched backs and gleaming eyes, angry snarls on their faces, hate coursing through their veins. The leader of the group, the scruffy looking one, fishes something from his back and places it on the bottom of his face: it's a mask, made with grey metal and sprayed with fake golden accents to give it a more classy look. On the side there's a circular opening with a single point in the centre. He takes a syringe and inserts it in the hole, pushing the top down and filling the hollow cavities of the mask with purple gasses. He takes in a deep breath, eyes rolling backwards, before his body goes through a strange change, twitching and moving like he had been shocked. When he looks back at you his eyes are a deep, neon pink, the same shade of colour that paints Jinx's eyes. He moves towards you, pushing and snarling at his friends like a dog with rabies, breaking their bones on the walls, before, with all the air in his lungs, screams, "I'm going to enjoy skinning that piltie's clean skin away from your body!".

You don't make it far before, with an uncanny precision, he throws his blade towards you like a spear, metal sinking inside of your left side, dangerously close to your kidney. A gasp leaves your body before you fall on the floor, blood oozing from the wound. Hundred of needles pierce at your flesh, blood paints the concrete and your mind fuses with the flesh of your brain. Then it all stops; you're back in the alley, cold spreading from the wound throughout your body, followed by a unbearable heat. The blade is snatched from your side, an ear shattering scream erupting from your throat. He is on top of you, already inching the knife to the base of your neck, planning to stab you there, wanting to see the life leaving your body in the most gruesome way possible. "I can't wait to see the look on your girlfriend when I am going to bring her the eyes of her most loved!".

"Bye bye, piltie" you brace yourself for your end; you can almost already feel the knife lodged in your throat, but nothing happens. You hear the sound of a metal hulk resonating in the hallway, before he is knocked down by something thrown with force against his face. You recognize it to be the exoskeleton of the arm you saw before, lying around. The rod which was the building foundation for its making has been thrown on the man's ugly bat-like nose, making him bleed red.

Isha stands behind you, still in launching position, before she runs over to you and tries to help you up. When you do, white behind your eyelids blinds you, pain making your head spin. He gets up again, an animalistic wild look in his eyes. He moves again, muscles hardened with purple veins running along them, drool falling down the space between the mask and his skin. Before he can assault you again, Isha throws something at him: the bomb he himself kicked before, the one Jinx had made, moves through the air, soon to be the second object to hit his ugly face today. He recognizes the object and pales when he sees a red light zipping faster and faster, its grinning mouth inching closer to him.

A colorful light shines on the walls, paint of blue and pink shades falling down like rain; sparks of fire following the natural course of an explosion, fading out of existence a moment later. You run with Isha, hand in hand, away from this horrid place. This time, you don't look back.

A trickle of sweat falls down Jinx's temple while her eyes are focused on connecting two tubes of plastic together. Electricity flows through them, sending sparks flying dangerously close to her skin, before they are connected by the metal snaps on each of their ends. Jinx smiles as her creation takes its first movements, loudly clapping two copper coloured, round, small discs together, before stopping once again. Her fingers twist the key positioned on its back and the mechanic monkey comes to life once again. When her work is finally done, she puts it next to the other one she made hours prior.

The one meant for Isha is coloured with golden accents and decorated with graffitis all over. When turned on, it quickly smashes the plates against each other and plays an off-tune punk song if the button on its right leg is pushed; its eyes are golden, mimicking Isha's own. The one meant for you is far softer than the first: soft shades of pastel mix together with Jinx's characteristic pink, swirling your colours together. Instead of plates, it has a small, roughly knitted red heart in its hands. The left eye shines bright pink, while the other mirror's yours. There are no graffiti on it, except for a small heart on its chest, one near 'your' eye and a 'Jinx' on its left side.

She can't wait to see the look on your eyes when you will see it. She could never quite well express affection like other people do, so giving you gifts was what she did best. Just as she dreams of your face, she hears quick, loud steps coming closer and closer to her. "If you are Caitlyin, I appreciate your obsession with me, but I am in the middle of-" she recognizes Isha's laboured breaths and your pained groans before she can finish the phrase. And when she turns around, her face pales and her blood freezes. Isha has a panicked look to her face, one that she had never seen before; and you? Sweat falls with heavy tears down your face, the shade of your skin so much paler than it usually is, making you look almost dead. Your hand is tightly clutched on your side, where your hand is stained with...blood?

In a fraction of a second, Jinx is on you, hands checking at every curve of your body, focusing on places you might be hurt, while she asks question upon question, filling the air with a sense of urgency. You can only describe the look in her eyes as pure dread. If you didn't groan with pain every few seconds, you'd think Jinx was the one to have gotten hurt. The next few minutes are a whirlpool of movements and colours, making you spill your lunch on the floor. Soft fabric meets your back, suddenly naked with only your bra to cover your chest. Blood oozes faster out of you and you can feel your conscience leaving. Nothing else besides the red on your skin and the blurred shades of blue and brown exists for you.

"...ont worry, I al... got m... sis...er out of ...ble". When after wetting your wound with water, Jinx presses gauze on your body, you are suddenly brought back to life, violently. It feels like someone is crushing with all their might on you, despite Jinx applying the right pressure to the wound. If someone were to walk in right now hearing your screams, they'd think you were begin murdered. After what finally feels like an eternity, you are lying again on her bed, almost lifelessly. You don't have time to answer Jinx's questions, before you fall into a deep slumber.

Half an hour passes by, and the world seems sealed in a bubble of silence. Nothing moves. nothing makes noise, nothing happens. The only thing that does make noise are the voices in Jinx's head, screaming loudly at her for having let you go alone. 'You should have been there', 'See what happens when you let people into your life?', 'She is hurt. She might die. It's your fault'.

Their loud screams are enough to make one go crazy, but despite how confused she is, Jinx finds a will in herself to speak, to silence them. With her hand, she nudges Isha, getting her attention, and mouths "What happened?".

Isha doesn't answer. Her eyes burn holes into the metal of the helix, bottom lip tightly sealed under her teeth, before something in her breaks. She rushes in Jinx's arms, hiding herself into her chest, crying until the tears are gone and her throat is raw. They stay together, tangled into one another, for a while, until their bodies are cold. "Isha, what happened?" Jinx repeats.

Isha gets up, running over Jinx's desk and returns with two different coloured pencils. On the ground she draws a scene: you and her, hand in hand, with frowning faces; behind you six grinning figures, one taller than the rest. Green splattered on the ground and high walls. Jinx recognizes this place immediatley; she's been there just a couple of weeks prior.

Walking to her desk, she grabs her trusted gun and more than a dozen of bullets. A deep, hateful scowl paints her features, eyes shining brighter than usual.

Tonight, the undercity shines and roars with fervor. Its lights shine bright and the shouts of its inhabitants brings it to life, beating strong, like the heart of a dragon. The city seems to sway in tandem with Jinx's white cape, almost bending to her will but also shielding her, hiding her in its crowds. This is home. This is all Jinx has ever known and ever will. She knows it's streets like the palm of her hand: where to leave her mark, the highest places she can reach from which she can put a bullet in between her enemies eyes, which vents and tunnels will take her back home.

She knows exactly where you had been hurt, and if her predictions are correct, they're waiting for her there. And she's gonna give them what they want. The allway is far too serene to be one of the city's main ways out to the perimeter where steel factories and shipments are. It's uncharacteristically quiet, and by Zaun's rules, that means danger.

Jinx steps on the green gooey substance, observing the dripping of your blood leading to the city's main street, and anger boils inside her at that view. The square is empty, except for a series of tubes and a pitfall to its left. Just as she thought, she begins to hear steps coming into her direction. They had been expecting her.

"If you weren't trying, and failing, to ambush me, I'd say you have a crush" the man behind her simply scoffs, his breath coming out ragged and metallic from under his mask.

Jinx turns around to see a tall man, breathing through what she recognizes to be a mask that henchmens of shady organizations wore to enhance their physical abilities. After a moment, she recognizes blood staining the man's pale skin, half of his left hand blown off, rudimental replaced with a metal prosthesis at the last minute. She can ignore that just fine, but the exposed muscle of his left cheek makes her want to puke. "Wow, and you're even more grotesque than I thought" a cruel anger swirls inside her eyes, her lips curling up in a snarl. "What? Were you so anxious to try to kill me that you couldn't even let your wounds heal?" he laughs at her words, men closing in on her much like they did hours prior to you.

"We were waiting for you, Powder" the mention of that name pangs at her heart. Subtly, she touches the top of her gun, ready to draw it at the first sign of danger. "I figured. How do you know my name?" "A man can know much...if he is in the right place, at the right time" he falls silent when Jinx laughs at his words, anger making a vein in his head pop. "Damn. I thought you were pathetic already, but this whole 'supervillain' talk only makes you seem more of an ass than you already are" much like Jinx, he grabs the death of his knife. At the sign, his men form a half circle around the blue haired criminal, directly closing the only way out. "You won't talk all that shit after I sink my blade in your throat" she can't help but feel compassion for these poor bastards. Faintly, she can already feel their blood falling on her skin while putting bullets between their eyes. "I would like to see you try" she changes her body stance, right side facing them while she takes out her gun with her left hand, making a show of placing the bullets in. Unlike what she thought, they do not follow her; instead, the leader seems relaxed as ever. His dark eyes reflect hers and for a second Jinx can see a dangerous, maniacal glint in them and a cruel grin on his lips.

"Oh I did try, and succeeded, with your little piltie bitch-girlfriend" her breathing stops, heart missing a beat, and time seems to stop for a moment, before it all starts to spin again, faster and faster as she gets angrier and angrier. "You should have heard her screams. The sweetest I've ever heard" she imagines you, clutching at your side, tears in your eyes and spit falling off your mouth; begging for him to leave you alone, to let you go. His features are lost under a black veil and painted over with a red open mouthed smile and tight eyes, not unlike the monsters that she has to fight with every night, as he raises the crimson blade and-.

"Don't you fucking dare" her throath feels raw when she speaks, almost as if she's spewing pure black hatred with each word. "Or what? What are you going to do?" 'He thinks he's the shit, huh?', she thinks, loading the storage to the brim and finally raising the barrel of her gun to aim on his forehead. "I am going to enjoy blowing your brains out"

'No one hurts the people I love'.

The next few seconds are a blur of colours and movement. Her body moves before her mind can understand what is going on. She ducks under something coming at her, kicking at the figure and sending them flying a few feet away from her. Someone pulls at her braids and she yelps, momentarily confused; in a fraction of a second, she blows their hand off, crouching and punching in the face a second figure. The blood on the ground, spilling from the screaming man gives everything a shape again and she's back to the alley. Three men are down, two unconscious and one debilitated. The remaining ones look at her up and down, before the leader nudges them, kicking their shins.

One of them takes a metal rod from his side and swings wildly at Jinx, paying no attention to where he hits. She dodges him with no effort and when he stops momentarily to rest his arm, she knocks his weapon from his hands and hits him in the neck with it, white replacing the colour of his eyes. The other, after seeing the bodies of who used to be his companions, runs away, leaving his leader behind; but before he can make it far, a bullet runs fast through his chest and he falls to the floor, lifeless.

He is the last one standing. "Heh, you call yourself a leader, but you couldn't even save your men". His teeth grind harshly against each other, sending jolts of pain through his mouth, "Shut the fuck up".

But Jinx doesn't. No, she's going to enjoy torturing the life out of this fucker like he did to you. "You didn't even lift a finger. I didn't know Zaun could have such a coward walking through its streets".

He finally snaps, spit flowing out of his mouth as he screams, staining the mask inside "I said shut up!". He breathes in the chemical Jinx is so familiar with, huffing purple clouds out of the mask with a metallic sound. Once again, he feels the rush of the substance in his lungs, blood circling small purple bubbles throughout the body, strengthening his muscles and blanking his mind. But this time, his body starts to twitch and shake, slipping out of his control.

The heart beats faster, the lungs lose their air and move erratically, blood flows freely through his body and bones morph, stretching and breaking and strengthening. His muscles cannot be sustained by the bones anymore, and he falls to the floor. The space inside his ribcage feels tighter, his lungs can only provide so much until finally, his body stops changing and he can stand up, much taller than Jinx now.

The blue haired criminal looks incredibly unimpressed with her opponent's new shape, her eyes studying his moments and planning the next few seconds. That grotesque creature lunges, pushing his whole weight on the top of his body, falling messily when Jinx dodges him. She ducks under a clawed swing, rolling through the space between his legs; then, while he is confused and looking for her, aims at his neck.

The bullet lodges itself into the skin, remaining snugly fit between flesh. The scream that leaves him could have woken up the dead. His nails dig into his neck, trying desperately to yank the bullet out, but to no avail. He turns and turns, like a cat chasing its tail, before dizziness gets to him and he falls to the floor, spilling saliva all over the concrete. When he looks around once again, he is face to face with Jinx's gun, staring at the black hole of the barrel. "You made a mistake crossing me, today. Let this be a lesson" she tilts the gun until it's flat against his forehead. He is not capable of forming words anymore, they die at the base of his throath, leaving only emptiness behind. For a moment, she can see in his eyes something that resembled her, many years ago: a scared animal, one that does not understand what their fate will be. But when her mind reminds her of how viciously he attacked you, and how you are lying in her bed, with no assurance that you'll wake up, anger bubbles once again behind her eyes, clouding her thoughts.

"I'm sorry" is all that he hears, before his body falls to the floor, life leaving his eyes.

Her heart feels cold, as well as her body and mind. Jinx, in her own kind of weird way, is already trying to make peace with the fact that, once she comes back home, you might be gone. All too often in her life she had to come to terms with the death of her loved ones, and all too often, she was directly involved with their demise. She can already picture it: you on the bed, blood staining your clothes and the mattress, Isha on her knees, crying her heart out. She, coming home, seeing your dead body lying on what used to be your little shared creek, shielded by the world, falling to her knees and her heart finally giving out to pain, soon to follow you.

From the crack inside the wall, she can spot the helix of her home, the one she'll soon walk over to reach you. She tries to move, but to no avail: her body doesn't let her. Her muscles are reduced to mush, her legs feel like lead and her heart heaves on her rib cage so much that she had to bend down, clutching at her chest to try and ignore that pain. She could stay here forever, stalling time to this single minute, winding it back over and over and over again, all for the purpose of pretending she's still with you, back in your apartment in Piltover, laying naked on the bed with serene smiles on your faces.

But she can't. Even if she could stop time, right here and now, what could she do? Nothing would change. You'd still be dead, she'd still be heartbroken, the bed would still be cold on your side.

She slips inside the crevice, body molding to its shape, before she is face to face with the entrance to her home. She's so lost in her dread and fear that, for a moment, she doesn't hear the sound of laughter from the inside. When her mind recognized the sound, the pitch of the voice she so longed to hear, tears prickled at her eyes and hope filled her heart. She rushes towards the sound, almost tripping down the helix and falling to her death.

There you are. Laying on the bed, laughing weakly as Isha gesticulates and shouts loudly, imitating some sort of monster. Every little light inside her home has been placed near you, probably by Isha, and lifts your figure with a myriad of colorful shades. You look like a living painting to her.

You can't even process seeing her when she's already on you, touching you everywhere, checking your pulse, grabbing onto your legs to assure herself, to make sure that you...

"Are you... really alive?". You could crumble right here and now under those tearful eyes of hers, so soft and beautiful, looking almost powder blue. You stretch your arms to reach down to her, hugging her close to you; "I am, I am". Jinx takes a moment to process your hug and your words; and when she does, when she's certain that you are alive, that you are okay, her walls crumble away.

She pulls you down towards her, wanting to reciprocate the hug, but impatience gets the better of her and instead pulls herself on the bed, halfway reaching you. Her head rests on your belly, tears staining your clothes when she feels your hand on her back. "I thought-! I thought you-" her words die in her throath when she feels your fingers cupping at her cheek, pulling her to rest on her knees and look into your eyes. "I know, I know. I am okay".

Tears fall freely down her cheeks once again, her bottom lip wavering before she takes refuge in your body, hiding her tears on your lap. "I am so glad! I am so glad...".

Once her tears dry, she pushes herself to look at you, eyes puffy and red. "You are okay" she says, and you're about to assure her once again, but something tells you that she's really talking to herself. She climbs on the bed with you, quickly resting her head on your chest. You can't help but smile at her, ready to cuddle together when you realize you've let someone out of the picture. Isha looks at you both with those big eyes of her, pouting. She knows exactly how to push your buttons.

"Come on kid, get in" come Jinx's words, quickly followed by Isha tangling herself in between your bodies and closing her eyes, sleep already overtaking her. "Man, she sure takes a lot of space" you chuckle, placing your hand on Isha's head and stroking her locks between your fingers, hearing a small contented sigh from her. "Yeah, but she deserves it". A heavy silence fills the space, one that you usually pair up with tranquillity, but who you quickly realize is loud for your lover. "Jinx... I am okay" stopping them from screaming in her ears is hard, but when you are with her, they vanish off of existence. Your voice brings her back to reality, as well as reminding her that you have gotten hurt. Letting herself relax after the storm is something she's not used to. "I know" but she can try.

Starting this conversation will be a pain, you think to yourself, but you need to tell her.

"...He told me your real name, Jinx. And, what you did". Quick snapping sounds, mixed with hushed voices and distant screams fill her head in a second, getting louder by the second. She doesn't find in herself the strength to answer, too tired from the day's events; but nevertheless, listens. She leans on the bed, eyes dark and attentive. The scent of your skin fills her nose and she braces herself for your next words. "But...I don't care".

What?

"I don't know what you've been through, but... I don't need to know. You will tell me if you want to". It all stops. Every sound, every shout or whisper, every heartbeat or pulse of electricity. It seems, for a moment, that all becomes white and quiet, before the world starts to spin again. You feel her strong fingers push you more towards her, one cold hand under your clothes, right where your wound is. "Thank you toots, that means a lot".

Less than twenty seconds of silence later, she's already pestering you with her worries again, "Does it hurt? Do I need to give you som-" you interrupt her, taking her hand in yours. Normally, you would be a little annoyed by her continuous train of words, but she needs to be reassured. She needs to hear it from you, how many times it takes. "I am okay. I just need you here with me".

That seems enough to let her finally bear down her worries and she quickly rests on the bed, eyelids heavy and a yawn in her throath. "...I made you a monkey...gift" she slurrs over her words, already slipping in and out of conciousness. "Oh really?". "Yeah...". You too are about to follow her shortly, and before you let sleep overtake you, you reach behind and place a kiss on her forehead. "Goodnight Jinx" she smiles, catching your lips in a quick peck and pushing her nose in the crevice of your shoulders; "Goodnight toots".

Bonus ----------------

When Sevika came home that night, after her usual gambling and drinking out in Zaun's bar, she certainly did not expect to find the messily tangled body of limbs that were you, Jinx and Isha.

As quietly as she possibly can, she takes the chair Jinx sits on while doing her evil scientist machineries and sits next to your bed. Placing a cigar in between your lips and lights it, blowing the smoke away in the opposite direction. She looks back at the bed, multiple coloured lights shading your peacefully sleeping figures. She stays silent for a moment, before she crouches on her knees and shakes the tip of the cigar, firing crumbling pieces of tobacco down on the floor. "They do look pretty cute".

[toast-on-dandelioms]

Hello, I really a fans of your work and always waiting for the updates. I have a question, what happen if Y/n just ignore the batfam as Y/n also turn to superfam becoming their family. It also assuming Alfred A-Okay with it. Oh, also Y/n might be have relationship with one of the superboys and she love to cuddle with the lover. Well, that's just my wild imagination thinking about.

Oh well, I hope you have great days.❤️😘

Thank you for liking my work! If you're asking for part 4, it will come out soon and probably by the end of next week!

Well, I don't think Alfred would be totally a-okay with this and after a bit he would act to 'fix' the situation.

He wants you to stay at the Manor and be appreciated too by the Batfam even though they don't even know you exist.

He has tried before, talking about you to Bruce and the others but they always dismissed him with the excuse of being busy or forgetting about you the next day.

And seeing you giving up on being with your real family and finding love in another family that actually accepts you and he can't accept that.

You're supposed to be with him as the rest of the Waynes not with some alien family.

He would act like he supports you whenever you come to visit him since you mostly live with the Kents nowadays and come to the Manor to grab the things you needed since you were moving your stuff from the Manor to the Kents house.

After a while you start to come home, to come back to him even less before you just visit him maybe once a month before it turns into no more visiting him since you're busy with school, dance classes and the vigilante role you still have.

And Alfred hates it so he decides that he can't stand to watch his boys obsess over your vigilante persona when they can't even bother to notice you weren't living in the Manor anymore.

So he decides to call a family meeting without your knowledge and explains everything, who you were behind the mask and how dissapointed and ashamed that the people he raised didn't even acknowledge that you existed.

Their reaction, which were mostly of confusion before realisation bothered him but he stayed silent and used their reaction to manipulate them, make them think you weren't in the right place with the Kent family.

And after a week from that meeting, you started to receive texts from all the batfam and also kept seeing them everywhere, with Bruce at school or when you were patrolling the city.

He would always try to talk to you, which you ignored or gave him the finger while swinging away, preferring to not engage in his tries to connect with you.

Plus he would show up at your dance recitals when you never said anything to Alfred about them and he would always be right in first row with a smug smile since he knew you couldn't do anything.

Plus you already knew they knew who you were behind the mask, they said your name when you had your mask on so many times you wanted to punch their faces.

You had to skip a few days of school because Tim and Damian started to show up at your same highschool and sitting next to you in class, to which no one would say anything and it frustrated you since highschool was one of your safe places but not anymore.

You tried to ignore Dick and Jason's attempts at stalking you, not because it was noticeable since you never saw them but the spider sense made you aware you were being watched and after a bit you were able to notice them following you.

Yes you did feel proud since you didn't have any detective training like the others but still knew who was following just by using the things around you.

You vented your frustrations with Clark and Conner and they did help by letting you skip school and everything but you had to go back to school or it would affect your attendance and damage your reputation and curriculum for future colleges applications.

But one fateful day, you went to a mission with Conner and Clark since they needed a third person but couldn't bring Jon since he was busy with school, so you went in his place.

During the mission you got ambushed, Conner and Clark were at disadvantage since the attackers (not sure on the term, the people that attacks) somehow had kryptonite weapons.

Plus you were also fighting, using the tasers and also the objects around you like rocks or trees.

Yes, you did throw a tree at a group of them and you also got Clark telling you not to do it again. Did you listen though? No.

As you were fighting you suddenly got stung by something in the leg, and when you touched the spot where it hurt you saw a small dart there.

You opened your mouth to call for Clark or Conner but someone covered your mouth and held you as you fainted while Clark and Conner had to flee since the attackers were too strong with the kryptonite.

The last thing you saw was the smiling face of Dick before completely giving in the drug you got injected in your body, not hearing them fight about who was gonna carry you in the batmobile.

[incorrectbatfam]

Do the batfamily members ever get too into their undercover work? (Undercover in an office and theyre worried about spreadsheets, working in a warehouse and coming home complaining about missing parts)

Bruce: Status updates on your undercover missions. Dick, you first. What have you got down at the docks?

Dick: I haven't confirmed the Killer Croc sightings yet, but more importantly, our catch hasn't been measuring up to last year's. Tuna we're doing okay on, but the salmon population seems to be on the low end. I've contacted the Department of Wildlife and Fisheries but it'll be another 3-5 business days before they can come down and check it out.

Bruce: At least you're doing something to help. Jason?

Jason: Class was okay. I think the kids are warming up to me as their substitute while Mrs. Maloney is out on maternity leave. The average on the last vocabulary quiz was 83.53% so either I'm doing my job right or they need to be challenged. I'm worried about Tristan Lancy, though. He's normally a good student but his grades have been dropping recently and his parents don't seem like safe people to tell. I'll talk to him tomorrow and try to pair him up with a peer tutor if he needs it.

Bruce: Also see if he has any alternate contacts besides his parents. Tim, any updates at the chemical plant?

Tim: If by updates you mean OSHA violations, I could go on all week. We got a batch of new recruits today and they were just thrown into the work—no PPE, no safety training, nothing. This is what happens when you place production over employee well-being. I'm gonna file a complaint after this meeting. Also, I think the union will have something to say about the manager cutting people's lunch breaks short.

Bruce: I see. Damian? Please tell me you found something volunteering at the zoo.

Damian: Depends on how you define "found." While I have not obtained evidence of a mutant larvae black market, I did help some of the animals at the sanctuary make progress with their recovery. Bobo the monkey is healing from his broken arms and we're gradually getting him re-acclimated to climbing higher surfaces. Suzie the black bear was born a little prematurely but seems to be catching up to her peers in terms of growth. Lastly, we got a grant for additional wildcat research and enrichment. As an aside, we are having an educational seminar on European mountain goats this Friday at 3:30 and I expect all of you to be there.

Bruce: I'll put that on our calendars. Steph?

Steph: It's not really undercover work for me, just work. Anyway, yes the newest Batburger location is being used for money laundering. But I really need to vent about the customers for a sec. We don't open until 10 and at 9:30 this morning some moron was banging on our door demanding Jokerized cheese fries. Then right in the middle of the lunch rush, Janie got sick so I had to fill in as the cashier and it was hell. After that, I had to step in between a fight at the drive-thru because the customer claimed we only gave him nine pieces of his ten-piece Robin nuggets and tried to beat up the kid who took his order. And to top it all off, an entire high school hockey team came in five minutes before closing.

Bruce: Cass?

Cass, blowing balloons: Can't talk. Arranging bat mitzvah.

Bruce: Duke, you're my last hope.

Duke: Margie's bringing a peanut butter chocolate cake to the bake sale. I swiped her recipe and we can easily beat her. Her ganache is way too watery and just runs off the top of the cake, which isn't even leveled. She's also trying to do something with a raspberry filling that isn't working at all. It's like she couldn't decide on what to bring. The bake sale committee also asked if we can bring some apple pies because the original baker has to go out of town for a family emergency. I think we'll win if we bring them with some ice cream and a touch of caramel, even though this isn't a contest.

Bruce: Thank you. At least our most critical case has been taken care of.

Barbara: ...I'll save my book launch for later.

[rsventhesecondd]

midnight rant,

╰ • → Featuring . Hayato Suo as your boyfriend ! ╯

sypnosis . whereas— you're an overthinker, desperately trying to save your friend group that is falling apart. You find no way to cope, but luckily your boyfriend, Suo is here for you. :3 , Hayato Suo x f!reader 

warnings . light cursing, mentions of mental health issues, abandonment issues, angst, self-vent, skin picking , fluff

note ⧽some parts may seem rushed or ooc in other peoples opinion. english isn't my first language, so please bare with oncoming vocabulary or grammatic mistakes. Based off real life experiences

authors note . hi! this is for all those people that overthink a lot specially when it comes to relationships. I didn't really explain more, it has so much lore potential too.. It's not really more of a you getting comforted once you read it, but rather it's a you being in the same situation again, but not being alone. I really wanted to write Suo, but I didn't know how. Anyways, this might be a subtle vent, foreshadow :3

—

You sat down the bench just a few steps far from Furin Highschool, your eyes welling up– unable to hold tears. You should've been home, if not for that argument you had with your  bestfriend. 

It was your mistake, it was your issue, you're the problem. Was what kept on replying all over your head like Broken record. What was is the cause of this scenario? let us go back. 

You lashed out, unable to control your feelings any longer. What was once joyful and full of glee, was now full of trepidation and gloom. Your two  close friends, somehow, two of your only close friends that you consider as close ones are starting to drift apart. You couldn't really blame them. You rarely meet, nor called. Rarely chatted, hell– whens the last time you guys ever talked about your own lives? They were all too busy with their places to be, and you were too. Not that you  didn't have any other people to interact with. But somehow, some part of you is missing the times where you three were happy, talking about this– your new crushes, how your lives has been going, laughing over stupid things, ranting about this and that about how annoying they were knowing damn well you were annoying too. But you couldn't care less, because at that time, you felt safe. It was as if a safe zone, your safe zone. But then things started to fall apart, barely chatting, updating, and the other more— you tried. You tried to replicate the same energy you've had before, you tried to bring back the joyous and gleefulness of memories that you've remember. Now realizing that it has only turned into a mysterious enigma written in the ink of stardust on the back of your brain. You were hysterical. How could such strong bond just fade away ever so quickly? The promises and plans made, are now starting to fade. 

Those tears welling up in your eyes not holding up any longer, flowing as they stream down your cheeks. You wipe them away with your sleeves, hoping the flow water from your eyes stop as you let out a sniffle. 

"[name]?" a familiar voice questions, causing you to instinctively turn your head away from where the noise came from. You begged to the gods that this was just a dream, hoping you were hallucinating. You were in such  disgraceful state, you don't need another problem to participate.  There you were on the bench, closing your eyes shut as you continuously picked on your skin, hoping that the man of that voice disappears into thin air. 

"[name], dear.. what happened?" the same voice from before said, inching closer. You open your eyes to see Suo with a worried expression. You quickly wipe your tears once more, using your tear stained sleeve, trying to utter out words, but it seems as if you couldn't speak. "Shh.. It's okay, my love." Suo says, sitting down beside you, resting your head on his shoulder. "You know, your skin will be irritated if you wipe your tears like that" he says in a gentle, but slight tease of a tone. He faces you, cupping your chin as he wipes your tears away with a handkerchief. As much as you wanted to push, maybe– shove him away even, you found yourself calming down from his actions. You wanted to go away as far as you could, you wanted to bury yourself deep underground. You've never shown him this side of you, and it terrified you. "Are you going to tell me what's wrong now?" he says with a smile, it's as if it wasn't even a question, rather a clarification. You take a deep breath and sighed, "It's just, my friend has been seeing this person lately, well, used to. And they've been ranting about how this person they're seeing is 'cheating' , only going to them when they need something, and other more stuff. It just pissed me off. My friend deserves more than that, and it got to me. I attacked their ex in spite, saying shit I didn't even know I would. And.. I know it's my fault, I wasn't in the right place to do that. And I apologized, I felt bad, I swear, I really did." you say, unbeknownst to you that tears are flowing down your eyes, fingers picking on your skin. Suo, nodding silently, his hand creeping up to yours, holding them– as a way to prevent you from picking on your skin. "But, I'm.. scared. I know we all make mistakes, and I know my friend is a good person and that they do forgive me. But I'm scared. I'm scared that it'll fall apart, I'm scared that they'll leave me– I'm scared that I caused a problem, that I break something again" you say, breath hitching as you tighten your grip on his hand.  "I contacted my other friend Kotoha, who I was closer with. We three were really close, and I know them a lot. Even though they don't realize it, I always observe how they react to different stuff. And, Kotoha was friends with the person I fought.  I reached out to them, after the argument, and apologizing to my other friend because of the situation I've created, and after awhile Kotoha never replied even though they were online. And, I can't judge them, they might've not seen it, and they've been there for me a lot too. But I just can't help but overthink at the most little things, and I hate it. I hate it so much, I–"  you stammer, cut off by a light kiss on the lips. "I understand." Suo says, wrapping his arm around your back, his hand pushed you ever so slightly to his chest– pulling you into a hug. "You can't really force someone into a relationship, [name]. Platonic or not, if the relationship is not working and there is no solution, best leave things be" , he says, patting your head. "If the friendship wasn't it, then it's all part of the plan of fate. Mistakes are normal, [name]. And if they truly are friends, people you consider you can trust the most then.. , they will accept you for who you are. Your flaws, mistakes, but that doesn't mean they'll tolerate it. If the gods have decided that friendship truly is not meant for you three, then let it be and accept things for what they already are. Yes, it'll be hard, but I'll be here with you. I'll accept you for who you are, flaws, and secrets kept. I'll be with you when you need me, and when you're alone. I'll accept you with my all of my heart. Just like you did with me" he added, moving his hand to pat your back soothingly. This time, you weren't crying from sadness, or terror. You were crying tears of glee. 

"Let's buy ice cream? My treat of course." Suo says, standing up– reaching his hand out to you, the other behind his back as usual. "Really?" you exclaim, eyes brightening up as you let out a sniffle, him nodding in response.  "And let's put some cream on your hands after wards, get you fixed up" he added.

"Okay! I love you!" You said in your same bubbly mood, almost forgetting the events of today. 

"I love you too, my dove" he says in a soft tone, giving you a look of love. 

note . this had so much lore potential. I'm gonna rewrite this whole, trust.

[sammylkcho]

Mayhaps Sebastian saving us from something just outside his shop? Pretty pls?

Here you go! Sorry for the delay, and I hope you like the result, dear anon.

Warnings/Notes: slight descriptions of wounds, some blood mentioned but nothing major, unedited

"I'll go grab some blankets and cushions then, I won't take too long!" You informed Sebastian, gripping the canvas bag hanging from your shoulder. You planned on stuffing everything you could find inside it so you wouldn't have to carry things in your hands or deal with any extra worries when you returned.

Sebastian responded with a soft hum, his eyes still fixed on some classified documents. He had been busy reviewing, flipping through, and sorting various papers. Maybe he’d made some progress, or maybe not—you didn't really know since he wasn't telling you. So stubborn.

"Be careful out there. The anglers are a bit more aggressive lately. Some expendables managed to evade them, and it seems to have pissed them off. Big surprise…" He muttered the last part with a tone full of sarcasm, like the anglers were acting like spoiled kids who didn't get the toy they wanted. Hearing that gave you a slight shock and sent a chill down your spine, but you hid it with a soft hum.

Showing fear or the slightest tremor in this place could get you killed.

Every day outside the four walls of Sebastian's shop was a vals with death, never knowing what danger could be lurking around the corner. The only threat you'd managed to neutralize, thanks to Sebastian, was Painter's turrets. After Sebastian talked to him and explained the situation, the AI had mocked you but grudgingly agreed not to try and kill you anymore. Right before you were about to leave, however, the AI had apologized, explaining the reasons Sebastian had already mentioned.

You parted on good terms. You considered him a friend, though to him, you were just an acquaintance… It was progress.

"Well, don't miss me too much!" You waved goodbye, ducking to exit through the vent.

Once you crawled out, you looked both ways, like you were crossing the street, making sure no cars—or rather, no Pinkie or Pandemoniun—were coming your way.

Hearing nothing, you stood up and headed a few rooms over, careful not to stray too far.

When you came back, you had a blanket and three cushions you'd grabbed from one of the couches in one of the rooms.

You had to hide a few times, crouching into corners when you couldn't find a locker to duck into, praying to any god that you were in an angler's blind spot.

Now, you were on your way back to Sebastian's shop, looking forward to some warmth and safety in that little secure place. All you wanted was to curl up in the things you'd gathered, your body and mind exhausted.

Just as you were about to duck into the vent again, a sudden, sharp yank and the piercing bite that followed knocked the wind out of you, the attack violent and unexpected.

A high-pitched scream escaped your throat as the sensation of thousands of needles tearing into your skin like you were nothing more than food shredded through you. You could feel your blood spilling, staining both your wetsuit and neck crimson. The pain was unbearable, and the awkward angle your neck was pulled into made it hurt even more.

Your strength was fading, and your vision was speckled with black dots that refused to disappear no matter how much you blinked. The agony consumed you, and the urge to close your eyes wasn't helping.

You heard a faint noise coming from the walls (or above?), like something sliding quickly, but you couldn’t focus on it through the wave of pain as the wall dweller yanked and bit into your flesh.

The sound of one gunshot, then another, sent chills down your spine.

The wall dweller dropped to the ground, and its grip on you vanished, causing you to collapse from the loss of strength.

You braced for the cold, hard floor, but instead, two pairs of arms—plus one extra—caught you firmly, preventing you from injuring yourself further.

You glanced up and recognized Sebastian's clothes. You tried to smile to show your gratitude, but all you could manage was a weak grimace.

"You're lucky I've got a extra medkit. I won't charge you for it this time. Just be more careful next time, idiot." You could hear a slight hint of concern in his voice, along with that familiar frown he always made when you were possibly to blame for something.

He cradled you in his arms, and you didn't protest. You didn't feel like moving and could feel yourself about to pass out any second from the blood loss you were dealing with right now.

You closed your eyes for a moment, and when you opened them again, you were already inside the shop. How? You didn't know, and you didn't feel like overthinking it right now. Instead, you noticed how Sebastian's movements with his third arm were a mix of hurried and precise, like he didn't want to make a mistake with what he was doing.

You hissed as he began cleaning the open wound, wrapping a gauze around your shoulder and applying pressure to stop more blood from spilling.

You didn't pay attention to what he did next because of the discomfort and the awful itch spreading through the wound. It hurt, itched—you didn't even want to move your injured shoulder in case it opened up again or got worse.

Even after Sebastian finished, he didn't let go or lower you from his arms. He just stayed there with you, for who knows how long. Just you and him.

And you'd thank him later, verbally, for everything he’d done to help.

[lucyandalexiafan]

Need to be praised | Alexia Putellas x Jenni Hermoso x reader

Summary: after winning the most important home match of the Liga, the Clasico, it is even more clear how Alexia needs to feel loved, praised. You and Jenni plan a different evening than usual, hoping to help her.

Warnings: smut and light angst. dom!Jenni, sub!reader, sub!Alexia, oral sex, chocking on a strap, punishment (belt), safewords, daddy kink, use of pet names / slut, dirty talk, light degradation, praise.

Words: 6.6k

You enter your house, the sound of the door closing behind you.

There is silence.

Ale had fallen asleep in the back seat of the car as soon as you got into it.

The trip had been short, with some indie songs in the background.

Jenni’s hand had caressed your thigh the whole trip.

You were exhausted. You were coming back home after the umpteenth match, another match a few days after the last one. And it wasn't a normal match, it was the Clasico, the most important home game of the Liga with a sold-out stadium.

Alexia had felt the brunt of the responsibilities the most, being captain had made everything more complex, heavier.

Many, too many, responsibilities.

Moreover, there was that complex she had.

That one of no longer good enough.

Strong enough.

Talented enough.

Aitana had won everything possible.

Ale was happy for her, obviously, she had seen her grow up in Barça's youth team, she had taught her everything she could; but that doesn't mean something inside her wasn't burning, consuming her.

It wasn't envy, it was anger.

It was disappointment.

It was resentment.

Not to Tana, but to her knee.

Grudge over her ACL.

Hate for her knee, for the constant injuries she has.

And ever since Tana won the Ballon d’Or, the funny, smiling, Ale had faded away. It wasn't easy to see, to notice this constant state of pain, she was really good at hiding it. But you could tell she was tired, that she couldn't take all the pressure anymore.

She tended to vent this anxiety, this pressure, this anger, with sex, rough sex where her need for control could come out. But, because you were having so many matches and only a few days off, you couldn't, she couldn't, dedicate to yourself the time necessary to enter that necessary headspace, to even think about it.

And Ale was increasingly needy, but it was not a need to be in charge, to be the dominant one. Jenni and you talked about it two nights ago, when the blonde was at yet another technical meeting with the staff and you two were having dinner at home. She had asked you if you two could take care of Ale, to change your roles in bed for once; Jenni had pointed out that Ale really needed to receive compliments, to be told that she was good.

That she was enough.

To feel loved.

To feel appreciated.

You weren't familiar with this, much more comfortable being the good submissive, but she was right.

You take Ale's hand and pull it towards you.

You gently place your lips on hers.

You feel her relax at the contact.

Her lips are soft, sweet.

Your hand is threading through her hair, massaging her scalp.

She gasps at the contact.

“Amor, we would like to suggest something to you”

Jenni's voice interrupts your kiss.

It is low, horny.

Ale turns towards the older woman, your arms wrapping around her body.

You are in the middle of the hall.

Jenni is leaning against the kitchen doorframe, her gaze fixed on Alexia.

Sweet eyes, a barely visible smile.

You leave kisses on the Catalan's shoulder, as if to reassure her.

“We would like to take care of you, amor – she tells her as she approaches the blonde – to make you understand how perfect you are, to prove it to you”

Ale opens her eyes wide, her body tensing beneath your arms.

“You don't have to say yes if you don't want to - you add as soon as you realize how tense she is - But we thought that this could be the better moment, because we will have the next three days free"

She nods surprisingly quickly.

“I want it, please”

You stop the kisses.

Alexia always hated giving up control, always fighting also Jenni before letting it to her.

You glance at Jenni, the older woman smiles lovingly at the blonde.

“Already so good amor, my good girl” she tells her before placing her lips on the blonde’s ones.

The kiss is loving.

Romantic.

Slow.

Nothing to do with their usual kisses, the rough, passionate ones.

There is no struggle for control.

For being the one in charge.

For power.

Ale leaves to the raven the chance to direct it.

“Why don't you both go lie down in bed? I want you both naked"

You nod, taking Ale's hand, and then heading towards your room.

You take off her shirt slowly, helping her slide it over her arms, leaving chaste kisses on her chest here and there.

She moans, her hands in your hair.

Your hands grip the button on her jeans while you look at her asking for permission and, when she nods, you remove it from the buttonhole.

You push them towards her ankles and she kicks them away, leaving her only in underwear.

You quickly take off Jenni's hoodie and peel off your sweatpants.

You push her towards her bed, asking her to lie on her back, Alexia complies without responding.

A sense of tenderness invades you at the thought of how much she needs reassurance.

She lies down, head against the pillows, and you kiss her neck, the collarbones, leaving few marks along the line of the bone.

“You are so perfect Ale," you whisper before licking the skin between her breasts "So beautiful.”

She gasps, the grip on your hair harder.

“We will take care of you, you know that?" you kiss her abdomen, your lips in contact with every muscle, "You won't have to think about anything.”

She moans desperately.

“Please," she whispers, absorbed, "I beg you.”

“You are so needy, mh?”

“Yes, I need you so much,” she replies lost.

The low voice, a whisper.

Arms outstretched.

You touch the elastic of her panties with your lips.

She sighs.

"I beg you."

You slowly remove them, kissing her thighs and ankles as you go.

You observe her. The eyes are closed, her head tilted back, the lips parted while she sight, the back arched, her panting makes her chest rise maniacally.

She had never begged you.

Never.

“We have to wait for Jenni, amor," you whisper in amusement when she tries to push your head between her thighs, "Are you such a needy thing, aren't you?”

The obvious hesitation in your voice.

You don't know how far you can go.

How much can you point out that she is not in charge.

You're not even sure you know how to praise her.

She nods.

“Can you kiss me?”

The voice almost scared.

Hesitant.

Needy.

You push yourself towards her face.

You kiss her lips, the grip on your heart increases.

How insecure is she?

“Amor, I thought I said you should both be naked,” Jenni's voice fills the room.

You pant against the blonde's lips.

You kneel on the bed, your knees resting on the mattress on the side of Ale's hips.

You undo your bra, sliding it off your arms.

The captain moans beneath you, her hands squeezing your thighs, the grip almost painful.

“Take off your panties, amor, before I have to punish you – despite the loving voice, the note of dominance evident – ​​This night is just for Alexia, isn't it?”

You nod quickly, scared of ruining everything.

To shift attention from Ale.

To stop you from taking care of her.

You stand at the foot of the bed, facing Jenni, and quickly take off your panties, letting them fall to your feet, then kicking them to your right.

You look at the floor, your head bowed, not having the courage to look the Madrilenian in her eyes.

The attention must be on Ale, but you don't know how to behave.

What to do.

What not to do.

Her feet enter your field of vision and you close your eyes when you see a hand move towards you.

She rests it on your cheek.

“I'm sorry daddy,” you whisper guiltily, cheeks burning for the embarrassment.

Ale moans openly behind you.

“It's okay amor,” she whispers before forcing your chin up, obligating you to look into her eyes “Ale is so beautiful that she’s distracting, it's normal that you've lost all sense of the rules. But don't do it again, or I'll punish you, okay?”

You nod.

“Yes daddy, I'm sorry.”

She smiles before kissing you.

It's not the sweet kiss she gave the blonde.

It's passionate.

Rough.

Her teeth bite your lip.

It's her way of showing off dominance.

To show that she is in control.

“Now I'll tell you what we'll do, okay?”

Her voice betraying not just horniness, but impatience.

Jenni loves to dominate and she loves having any form of control in bed.

“I will sit on this chair and you will put on a good show for me following my instructions, okay?”

“Yes,” you both answer in unison.

The response speed is almost astonishing.

The raven grabs your hair forcefully.

"What's my name?"

“Daddy,” you gasp in pain from the grip, "I'm sorry daddy.”

You bite your lips looking into her eyes, which are tainted by sadism. This version of Ale, this so submissive Ale, has to make her really horny.

Then, while she looks you strictly in the eyes, a grin appears on her face.

“What are your safewords?” she asks you.

“Green to continue, yellow to slow down, red to stop,” you respond.

She nods.

“Are these safewords okay for you, Alexia?”

She replies with a whispered, shy, “Yes, Jenni.”

“Can you tell me what we always say about using safewords, amor?”

“Which… that should be used if I need it,” she sighs hesitantly.

The Madrilenian smiles.

“Good girl,” she praises.

Ale and you moan in unison.

“Alexia, sit against the headboard with legs wide open - you feel Ale move, while Jenni's grip on your hair hardens - You get on your hands and knees, your back arched, your head between Alexia's legs,” Jenni directs.

She lets go of your hair, opening her hand.

She takes a step back, as if to give you enough space to do what she asked.

You look at her, lips wide open.

Does she want to punish you?

She tilts her face to the side, as if to warn you and exhort you to follow.

Your cheeks burn with embarrassment.

“I'm sorry, daddy,” you whisper guiltily before turning towards the bed.

Are you already shifting the attention from Ale to you?

You can't look at the blonde because of the embarrassment of being naked, bent over like this, waiting for punishment.

Ale moans, her hands gripping tighten the sheet beneath her.

You rest your knees on the bed between her legs, and arch your back, shoulders brushing her thighs.

Your hands are on her thighs.

“Hands behind your back,” she commands.

You do it and try to adapt better to the position, to find a balance which in reality always turns out to be precarious.

You hear footsteps behind you, and from the way Alexia's body tenses you could swear Jenni is selecting items from the drawer.

You pant in anticipation.

A knot in your abdomen.

The smell of Alexia invades your nostrils.

You squeeze your thighs.

“Now I'll tell you how things will go,” she announces in an authoritarian tone. “Cariño, you broke the rules, so I'll spank you - her steps stop - And Alexia will decide how and how many times because she was a good girl, and good girls should be rewarded,” Jenni declares.

You moan without restraint, and the blonde does the same.

“You can decide everything, amor, how many blows, with what, if she should be tied up… everything. Because if you are good girls you can choose,” she tells her.

You bite the sheets, hands clasping together.

The nails in your palms.

Your pussy contracts around nothing, arousal starting to wet your thighs too.

“I... the belt - you widen your eyes at Ale's response - is it okay?” she asks Jenni hesitantly.

You close your eyes at the idea of the belt.

Ale loves to use it to punish you, she prefers it to any other object or the hands, while Jenni prefers hands, she says she loves the feeling of your body twitching under her touch. But when Jenni uses the belt to punish you, those few times, she does it harshly, while Ale is kinder, the blows she gives are softer, she loves to see how you jump when the belt comes into contact with the butt, not so much causing you strong pain.

“Of course, whatever you want, pretty girl,” Jenni concedes.

You groan, realizing how things are going to go.

You'll be their little toy, as always, but the dynamic is different. Jenni wanted this, she wanted you to disobey, so she could allow Ale to choose, to be in charge, praising her for every decision made under her guidance.

“How many times?”

“Ten,” the Catalan replies surprisingly confidently.

Jenni chuckles.

“You like when I punish our slut with the belt, don't you?”

“Yes, I like it,” Ale admits.

Her hands are now in your hair, and you gasp at the unexpected hold.

“Why, pretty girl?”

“Because of the noise that the belt makes when it hit her butt, because it leaves marks, because then she is always soaking wet”.

“Do you know why she is always wet?” Jenni replies to her as if you were not among them. “Because she is such a slut for us, for you.”

Ale and you gasp at the same time.

The humiliation, the degradation, which clashes with the sweet tone used with Ale.

The grip on your hair tightens, the nails penetrate the scalp.

“Please,” you whisper, not knowing whether to Ale or Jenni.

“So eager to be punished for us,” she muses.

You arch your back even more.

You hear a metallic noise, it's the buckle that makes the belt, and your body tenses in reaction.

“Do you want her tied up?”

“No - Ale replies - If-if she moves her hands-“

“Will there be more blows?”

You close your eyes at the idea.

They know that you don't know how to stay still when they punish you, that you need to be tied up if they want you not to move.

"No. Denial,” Ale pants, unable to explain herself better.

“As you wish, pretty girl.”

You clench your jaws, the opposition between the praise for Ale and the humiliation towards you is aphrodisiac, but your body is so tense that you know that the impact of the belt will be even more painful.

“Jenni, can I touch myself?”

You widen your eyes at Ale's request.

Ale doesn't ask permission to touch herself.

Ale touches herself, maybe she is then punished by Jenni, but Ale doesn't ask permission to do it. It is one of the most bratty behaviors that the blonde uses against the older woman.

The request probably also leaves Jenni dumbfounded, who is slow to respond.

“Please, I'll be good, I won't come without your permission.”

You moan.

You had never seen Ale so submissive, so in need of praise, to be good for Jenni.

“You can touch yourself, amor, but with this,” she says as you hear her walking. “And you can't come without my permission.”

Her hands leave your hair.

You try to look at her.

She leans over your body while Jenni gives her something, an object, that you recognize as a vibrator when you hear the sound of a vibration.

One of her hands comes to rest between her legs, the vibrator against her clit, the other one on her breast, starting to play with a nipple.

Then, the first blow hits your butt.

You scream in surprise, at the pain.

The body that tenses, moves towards Alexia's thighs.

“One, daddy, thank you,” you reply automatically like every time you get punished.

You hear her grinning.

Then another shot.

You groan.

“Two, daddy, thank you.”

The pain already starting to invade you and she continues to hit you with this force for the next five blows.

Alexia's moans invade the air.

“Can I… a finger,” she gasps, her thoughts disarranged.

“Yes amor, you can. Fuck yourself for me”

Ale moans, a grating moan, then you see her stick a finger inside herself.

You bite the sheet and, before you understand what you are doing, you place your hands on the mattress.

"You're such a slut who always wants to be the center of attention," the raven girl says angrily behind you "This was supposed to be Ale's night, but not only did you get to be punished, but you broke another time the rules"

You gasp, closing your eyes in humiliation, and try to fix your situation by repositioning your hands on your back, in the position you were supposed to hold. You hope it's enough, but you know it's not.

“I'm sorry daddy,” you whisper guiltily.

“Mm, really?” the teasing tone, the hands squeezing your ass between your fingers. "you're such an exhibitionist slut that I might think you were putting on a show for Alexia. Do you like it, pretty girl?”

Her hands are on your ass, squeezing the flesh, on the places where bruises will probably show up, and you groan in pain.

“Yes Jenni, so much.”

You gasp.

Usually, the dynamic is inverse. You're the good one, the one who gets praised, Ale is the one who breaks the rules on purpose to annoy Jenni.

The blonde's moans are getting closer and closer together, the hand that moves fastest inside her and she plays with the vibrator against her clit.

“Do you want to come, pretty girl?”

She pants, she begs her.

A blow, hard, impacts your ass.

You move forward, your body contracted by pain.

It hurts more than all the others, and is the same for the other two. You gasp, tears in your eyes.

“Can I come, Jenni? Please, I was good for you”

“Come for me, love,” Jenni's voice surprisingly gentle. "come for me, my perfect girl.”

Alexia comes screaming, her body shaking around you as she lives it to the end. she then turns off the vibrator, dropping it absentmindedly to her side.

"Jenni" you moan, your voice unsure, trembling, without really know what you want.

The pain pervades your body, your hands grab the sheet, clenching it between fists. You know you're breaking the rules again, but you need to touch something, to grip something, in an attempt to alleviate that pain.

You know it's Alexia's night, that you're there for her, that she needs to be praised, but you're not sure if this is the direction you want the night to take. The way she had squeezed your cheeks between her hands suggests how the evening could take a more sadistic turn, and less caring, and you're not sure if you want that.

The idea of being their toy makes you horny, the idea of being used turns you on, but you need to be praised too, to be told that you're good too.

You hear Ale's breathing calm down, Jenni bending over your body to kiss her. You lift your head, watching from below as their lips collide, as the blonde's hands end up in her hair, and as the raven grins against her.

You bite your lip, not knowing if you want to interrupt the moment or if it's better to let it continue.

"My pretty girl," the Madrilenian whispers as she moves away from Alexia, standing up again at the foot of the bed, "My two good girls," she says, her hand touching your back rubbing her nails lightly on it.

You gasp, the praise finally arrived, the kind lovely contact.

Your thighs clench in response.

"Amor, can you lie on your back?"

You do as she asked, without talking back, your skin burning at the contact with the fabric of the sheet, your hesitant hands ending up on Ale's shins, your gaze avoiding the one of the older woman.

"You're forgiven, amor," Jenni whispers before kneeling on the bed, her knees to the sides of your hips, "My good girl."

Then, finally, she kisses you. A slow, loving kiss and your hesitant hands draw her to you, seeking comfort. One of her hands lands on your cheek, thumb gently caressing your skin, the other on Alexia's thigh.

"Are you okay?" she asks softly once she moves away from your lips, her gaze trained on yours, her eyes sweet, a shy smile shapes her face.

"Yes daddy - you answer, your voice still trembling - Another kiss?"

The blonde moans at the sight of you two, between her legs, kissing.

Jenni takes her time to kiss you, her tongue licking your lower lip, her teeth nibbling your lips, then kissing the skin of your jaw, your neck.

She sucks a portion of skin above your collarbone, leaving you a dark red hickey, and you move your hands through her hair, your legs now bent on themselves tightening her body to you.

She grins, then bites the skin of your chest multiple times, leaving various marks next to the first.

"Daddy," you gasp again.

"What, little one?" she asks, her face now reclined towards you, her black eyes staring into yours.

You blush under her gaze.

"Please daddy touch me."

She licks her lower lip, then returns to kiss your chest, moving towards your breast. She bites your right nipple, one hand gripping the left between her fingers.

You arch your back towards her, your head brushing against the inner thigh of Alexia; and that's how two fingers of one hand of the blonde, that were gripping her thighs, end up against your mouth. She pushes them beyond your lips, against your tongue, and you gasp surprised at the intrusion. You tilt your head towards her, giving her more access to your mouth, and try to lick them.

You look into her eyes as she moves her fingers inside up to the last knuckle, thus reaching the back of your throat and making you gag.

Jenni, hearing the noise, stops kissing you.

You feel her observing you, and you have confirmation when Ale shifts her gaze from you to above you.

She smiles shyly.

The brunette gets up on her knees, moves them towards Ale, crawling on the bed, then kisses her again.

You moan at the lack of contact, at the cold hitting the saliva she left on your chest.

The blonde's fingers stop, entirely inside your mouth, the moment the older one's lips land on hers.

"Keep moving them," Jenni orders, and she does, moving them faster, "Like that, good girl, fuck her mouth."

You gasp, almost choking, when they hit the back of your throat rhythmically. You squeeze the raven's thighs with your hands as you push yourself a little further toward the end of the bed, seeking a more comfortable position.

"Do you want to fuck her mouth with the strap-on, pretty girl?" the brunette asks her.

Your eyes widen at the idea.

"Yes-yes Jenni, please."

Jenni leans in one last time, kissing her lips softly, then gets up from the bed again. You hear her walks back towards the cabinet and open the drawer; Ale's hand, wet from your saliva, is now resting against your cheek, the thumb caressing your skin.

You turn your head, your cheek against the mattress, and then absentmindedly kiss her inner thigh with your lips open, knowing how sensitive that part of her body is. And sure enough, she moans and you feel her other hand move from her thigh to your hair, squeezing it.

“So beautiful,” Jenni murmurs so softly that you almost don't hear her "My perfect girls".

You hear her walking to the side of the bed, and then sitting next to Ale.

You see her kiss her neck, and the blonde tilts her head back against the wall, giving her more space.

“Shall I help you put it on? - she asks, without really expecting an answer - Amor, lie on your stomach"

You roll onto your side, then onto your stomach, groaning at the feeling of the cold air against your cheeks.

You look at Jenni, she's still fully dressed, her shirt sleeves rolled up and the top buttons open, hair gathered in a low ponytail that leaves the shorter tufts free.

She helps the younger to wear the strap-on, her hands skimming Alexia's thighs, and you moan in anticipation.

“Move more towards Alexia - she orders when the blonde has finished preparing, her thighs even more open - Your head must be perfectly aligned with the strap-on. Exactly, like that, good girl” she praises you.

You moan, looking at her, but she's focusing on the blonde, her hand squeezing the woman's jaw, forcing her to look at her, then licking her bottom lip.

"Ready?"

The blonde nods and leans towards Jenni, her lips pressed carefully to hers, as if trying to figure out if the raven is okay with her resourcefulness. The older woman kisses her back, her hand on her cheek.

You moan, the pain between your legs growing more and more. The desire to touch yourself, to move your hand there and reach your orgasm, makes you squeeze the blonde's thighs tighter in an attempt not to do it, to be good for them.

“Alexia, you won't be able to touch her, I will decide the pace - Jenni's hand ends up in your hair, caressing it - Cariño, remember that if it's too much you have to tap Alexia's thigh three times and I will stop immediately, understand?”

You nod, your gaze fixed on the dildo. It's bigger than the one you normally use for oral sex, you bite your lip hesitantly.

“Words, not gestures” she warns you.

"Yes, daddy" the voice unsure, hesitant.

“I know you can take it all the way, be a good girl for me” Jenni urges you, her hand that applies enough pressure to push you to take it in your mouth.

You open your lips when the tip of the dildo touches them. Alexia moans in response, her hands gripping the sheet in an attempt not to touch you, not to break the rules.

The hand in your hair applies more pressure, pushing you to take more into your mouth. When you take about half of it into your mouth you moan, the choking sensation creeping in and you feel your hair being pulled upwards.

“Relax your throat, I want you to take it all in your mouth” you hear her order, and then apply pressure again.

You try to breathe through your nose, the saliva pouring out of your mouth uncontrollably as you take in more than half, the tip hitting your throat, making you squirm.

“Shhh, stay still - you close your eyes trying to calm your breathing and breathe through your nose, your hands gripping Alexia's thighs more tightly - Good girl. Now move on it, like this, yeah,” she instructs, pushing her hand up, relieving the pressure, and then applying it again.

You go on like this for a while, the blonde's moans are the only other sound besides what you make.

“Do you like seeing her choke on your cock, pretty girl?”

“Yes… yes Jenni” she replies quickly, her voice breathless.

You close your eyes when the hand puts more pressure on the back of your neck, pushing you to take even more into your mouth, until you come into contact with the harness. The tears wetting your cheeks.

The moan that comes out of Ale's mouth is so grating, so low, that you've never heard it before.

Then, Jenni's hand pushes you upwards, until you no longer have the dildo in your mouth.

You moan for air, a string of saliva connecting your mouth to the strap-on.

“My good slut, so good at sucking cocks. We should just use you for this, right?” her thumbs clean your cheeks “making you my cock slut, used only for this, mh?”

You contract your thighs, rub them against each other, in an attempt to give yourself a minimum of pleasure.

“Now go back and suck it as the good slut I know you are, do you understand?”

“Yes, daddy,” you reply, then place your head back on top of the dildo.

Your lips surrounding it, her hand pushing you back down until you take more than half of it into your mouth. She leaves you like this for a second, and then begins to set a fast, frenetic pace.

You whine as you feel the blonde's thighs contracting rhythmically under your hands every time you lower your head.

“Jenni… Jenni, can I come? Please, I was so good”

“Come for me Ale” she orders while her hand pushes you to the base.

You choke on it, your saliva wetting her thighs as Jenni forces you to move rhythmically on it.

The base of the dildo that put pressure on her clit, her moans getting closer and closer.

“I’m coming… I’m-“

You feel her coming, her thighs contracting beneath you as you hear her scream, the madrilenian's hand continues to push you towards the base of the dildo, allowing her to fully ride out the orgasm.

“St-stop” Ale pants, and the hand quickly disappears from your hair.

You immediately pull away, moaning at the feeling of air in your lungs, saliva binding you to the fake cock, tears in your eyes. You cough a couple of times gasping for air.

“Look at me” the Madrilenian orders you and, when you do, her hand moves towards the saliva, wetting four fingers, and then spreading it on your cheeks.

“Our slut, so obedient. My cock slut”

She grins as you take a finger into your mouth, sucking it down to the base. Her eyes widen slightly, surprised by your boldness.

Alexia turns her head towards her, kisses her neck, sucks some portion of her skin.

“No marks, Alexia”

“Mhmh” the younger one replies distractedly as she continues to kiss her neck.

You take you off her finger with a snap.

“Please daddy, I was so good… fuck me”

She grins looking at you, almost as if Ale wasn't kissing her.

“Yes daddy, fuck her” the blonde supports you, whispering those words directly into contact with her skin.

Jenni's eyes widen when the blonde calls her that.

She bites her lip, her hand ends under your neck. “Come here, sit on my lap”

You rush to do it, hoping for contact.

“Kiss Alexia” she orders you and, without wasting time, you turn towards the blonde and place your lips on hers.

It's a slow, passionate kiss, done just to put on a show, a private show for Jenni, just for her.

“My good girls” she pants as you feel her lips touching your neck, one hand grabbing your breast, the other on your butt.

You break away from the kiss and then look into Jenni's eyes, your fingers move toward her shirt.

“Can I undress you daddy?” I ask shyly, hoping for an affirmative answer.

She looks at you, eyes trained on yours; you try to make the cutest puppy eyes and, caught up in trying to convince her, you move your lips to her sensitive spot, the one under her earlobe.

“Please, daddy, I was so good for you”

“Okay,” she replies, and you smile against her.

You kneel, a couple of feet away from her body. Your hands grab one button after another, undoing them from the buttonholes, and then you help her remove the shirt, leaving her chest bare, her breasts covered by a simple black bra.

You look at her body, get lost in observing her tattoos, her defined muscles, and touch the straps of her bra.

She unhooks it, letting it fall onto her lap.

You bite your lip in front of her swollen nipples, you want to kiss them, lick them, but you know that to do so you have to have her permission.

“Can you undo my pants?” she asks you, urging you to do so.

You nod, your hands moving down to the waistband of her pants, undoing them and pulling down the zipper.

Jenni pushes them, and her underwear, towards her knees and you crawl backward, pulling them towards her ankles, then throwing them on the floor.

“Take the black strap from the drawer,” she orders, and you quickly move toward the cabinet.

You hear her tell Alexia to take off the harness and lie down on her stomach, immediately followed by noises.

“Good girl”

You turn around and see her lying between her legs, her head against her chest, the younger girl's hands are in the raven's hair, her head tilted back.

“So sensitive”

You bite your lip at the sight, the pain in your belly getting stronger, more and more needy to have an orgasm.

Alexia moans when the brunette bites her nipple, but she doesn't have time to realize it because the older one moves further and further down, toward her pelvis.

“My perfect girl”

You are standing, in front of the cabinet, not knowing what to do, what to say.

“Amor, lie down next to Alexia, on your stomach, legs open. Give me the strap”

Quickly you lie down next to Alexia, hoping for contact, for relief.

Jenni grins at the sight of your desperation, at the sight of how needy you are.

“Kiss her” she orders you.

You place your lips on hers, a hesitant, sweet, light kiss, as if you were afraid of hurting her. Your hand on her cheek, thumb caressing her skin, and she bites your lip, pulling it towards her, making you gasp.

“Daddy please” you beg, in a moment of pause in the kiss, your forehead against Alexia's one.

You look at the raven woman and find her wearing the strap-on.

“Here's what we'll do now: I'll fuck Alexia, while you kiss her, and then, if you deserve it, I'll fuck you”

You look at her pleadingly.

You need to be touched, to come, to have attention.

"Daddy, please"

"Safeword?"

You swallow your saliva not knowing how to respond. You know you don't need to stop, you want to see Alexia get fucked by Jenni, but you also know you need physical contact. You don't want to be selfish, shift the attention onto yourself, Jenni has said several times that this was supposed to be Alexia's night and you need to be her good girl, to be praised for it, but you need to be touched, to feel loved.

"Amor?" she asks, her voice softest, as she kneels on the bed, her knees on either side of your body.

“Yellow,” you whisper without looking into her eyes, scared to see disappointment there.

“Do you need us to stop?”

You shook your head quickly. "I... can I come then? Please Daddy, I'll be good, I swear"

She smiles, her lips kissing yours. "Yes, little girl. Be my good perfect girl and I'll give you the best orgasm of your life, mh?”

You swallow saliva at the praise, at the promise of relief.

"No more teasing? Promise?" you ask.

She grips your jaw gently, forcing you to look at her. "Look at me, little girl. I promise. And if it's too much you stop me, okay? Do you promise me?"

You blush under her serious yet sweet gaze.

"Promise" you whisper, then you turn your head towards the blonde and go back to kissing her, a more passionate, rougher kiss.

You hear Jennie laughing while she gets up and then positions herself between Ale's legs, her fingers teasing her folds, moving inside her with a slow rhythm. “Ready, pretty girl?”

"Please Jenni, please-"

And, without waiting for other words or begs, she enters her.

Alexia arches her back in response, her head tilted towards the wall. Your lips attach to her neck, you kiss it, you bite it; you move one hand towards her breast, playing with the nipple.

The blonde moans as Jenni begins to move into her slowly, giving her time to adjust.

But you don't have time, you want to have your orgasm, be touched, be fucked.

You turn her face towards you, your lips on hers again, and you pull her nipple harder, passing tell between your fingers.

When Jenni starts to move with a fast, sharp, pace, Alexia pulls away from you, her hands on Jenni's back, her legs around her body, her lips against hers.

You bite your lip as you look at them.

The older one moves at a faster and faster pace, while the blonde moans closer and closer, more and more desperately.

The pain in your belly increases at this sight, desire burns inside you.

“Are you closed,?” she asks, her voice low, hoarse, even if it seems more like a statement.

"Yes, yes daddy, I'm closed - Alexia moans uncontrollably, her head tilted back - may I come? please daddy, make me cum”

You contract your thighs hearing her beg, hearing her calling Jenni daddy. You push towards her neck, kissing it, while Jenni kisses the other side.

“Cum for me amor” she whispers against her ear.

Alexia, shortly after, arches her back even more, a scream leaving her lips, her eyes closed and her forehead wet with sweat.

Jenni continues to move into her until her orgasm is over, then slowly pulls out of her.

She kisses her lips, her cheeks. “My perfect girl, you did so good”

The blonde gasps, unable to form any thoughts, any sentences. Her chest rhythmically contracting, her breathing quickening.

“Lie on your stomach, on your elbows and knees” Jenni orders, without even looking at you, while still kissing Alexia.

As if awakened from a stupor, execute quickly. Your back arched obscenely, your head close to Alexia's, your hands above your head, your legs open.

“Fucking soaked, who would have thought that our slut likes to look as well as be looked at”

Her voice is low, hoarse, and she says it while her finger grazes your folds, from your clit to your hole.

You arch your back even more, seeking contact.

“Daddy, please, ple-aaa” you scream when her lips press against your folds, her tongue exploring it, teasing your clit.

You clench the sheets in your fists, rhythmically push your body towards her, seeking relief, seeking your orgasm.

You feel her finger rest against your hole, then enter you effortlessly, and then another.

“So soaked - hand moving, straight away, furiously - My slut”

“Yes… yes daddy, your slut”

She bites your cheek, and you groan in pain.

“Please, I beg you… please daddy”

She smiles against your skin, a third finger adding.

You push towards her quickly, sprawling, the orgasm advancing in you.

You feel it.

“Are you closed?”

You nod into the mattress.

“Yes daddy, please, can I come?”

She bites your ass, then removes her fingers from you, but you don't even have time to notice because her cock enters you.

You scream with pleasure.

One of her arms ends up around your neck, forcing you to your knees, your back against her body.

She immediately moves fast, hard, inside you.

“My slut, only mine. So needy, so desperate”

"Yes... yes daddy" You moan, not knowing what to say to her.

She tightens her grip around your neck, her other hand pinching a nipple, the thrusts more and more frantic, faster, while she moans against your ear.

"Wait for me to come"

You close your eyes and shake your head. “I can’t, daddy I can’t… please”

“Wait me, be my perfect girl” she replies as she fucks you even harder.

You contract your body in an attempt to slow the orgasm that is building within you. “Please daddy, please”

"Cum, cum for me”

[splonk-fox]

The flaws of Jax and Ragatha, and why they matter to Pomni's character arc.

Within the two episodes of The Amazing Digital Circus that have been released so far as of writing this post, there have been two characters who have been given the most attention and depth out of any of the cast (ignoring Pomni obviously), and those two characters are Ragatha and Jax.

The duo consisting of the kindhearted optimist and the meanspirited pessimist have without a doubt become some of the most interesting characters to analyze within this series so far thanks to how much meaningful screentime and character depth they have been given within the the two episodes that we viewers have been fortunate enough to witness with our very eyes.

But why is this? Why is it that these two have received special attention from the writers so far, and what role do they play in Pomni's character journey? Well I believe I may have found the answer, and it's unfortunately one that does not spell a good future for these characters. But to truly understand where I am coming from, we must first understand who these two characters are and how they relate to our main protagonist.

To start off with the kindest of the duo, we have already learned quite a lot about Ragatha thanks to the two episodes she has been featured in so far.

Her most prominent character trait is without a doubt her kindness. She is the first person to really be genuinely nice to Pomni upon her entrance to the circus and spends the rest of the episode showing her around the place and trying her best to help her get settled in.

She's also someone who doesn't like to be overly blunt with her responses, such is shown when Pomni asks how they leave the circus, to which Ragatha, instead of just saying that she couldn't, phrases it in a way that makes it sound as if they simply haven't found a way to leave yet, this was obviously done in an attempt to not freak Pomni out too much, though this doesn't really go anywhere thanks to Jax.

Now that's great and all, Ragatha's a nice person, you can easily observe that through casual watches of the show, looking deeper however, you can see that there is a lot more going on with Ragatha than she would like to make you believe.

Insecurity is another trait that Ragatha has that, while not shown off as prominently as her optimism, is still very important to Ragatha's character.

As we see in episode 2 of the series, one of Ragatha's biggest fears is not being liked. She vents to Kinger about how she feels like Pomni doesn't really like her that much, and that clearly scares her. And why wouldn't it? The end of episode 2 makes it clear that one of the most important things in this show when it comes to keeping the main cast mentally stable, is their sense of community.

They're all in this together, they have each other's backs and will do their best to be there for each other when it's needed. That is what is communicated to us within the second episode through Kaufmo's funeral.

This segment of the episode, while somber in its tone, is also one that instills hope within Pomni and the viewer. Because it shows that despite everything, the circus members do care about each other. That abstraction is something that affects everyone and it isn't something that is just brushed off immediately, which if you recall, was the crux of Pomni's fears as seen at the beginning of the second episode, the fear of being forgotten, the fear of no one caring.

"I don't even remember her name honestly" - Dream Jax.

So with how the importance of community has been firmly established within this show's messaging at this point, it should be no surprise that Ragatha's biggest fear is not having that community. Of people not liking you, of people hating you. So how does Ragatha solve this?

Repression, that's how. Of all of Ragatha's personality traits her tendency to not display her true feelings towards things are without a doubt the most damaging.

The best example of this is how she reacts to Pomni abandoning her for the exit. The pilot would lead you to believe that she was mad at Pomni for doing this, that she didn't trust her anymore because of this selfish act.

And yet, that's all brushed to the side in the following episode. Ragatha is back to her optimistic self and is saying that everything is fine! That it was completely understandable and that there was no bad blood between them. Yet you can tell that isn't the whole truth, that Ragatha really didn't get over what Pomni had done to her that easily.

Now do I think Ragatha hates Pomni or secretly resents her? No, not really. I do think she's being honest when she says that she doesn't hold anything against her for doing this. But that doesn't mean she wasn't hurt by it. We can see clear as day from the pilot that this did affect her, so why does she act like she doesn't?

Because, from her perspective, her feelings do not matter. The only thing that does is to make sure Pomni is able to adjust, to make sure that everyone is happy, that everyone is still somewhat sane within the circus, and so she compromises her emotions in order to do this. Gooseworx has even said it herself that Ragatha often says things she doesn't necessarily mean in order to ease tensions. She doesn't want to cause conflict, she doesn't want people to fight with each other because she understands how important community is to the members of the circus persisting.

Yet in the midst of all of this, what Ragatha fails to realize is that with how she currently handles things, she is paving the way for her own mental break.

Ragatha, in her attempts to be there for others, has walled herself off from others being there for her. By lying about how she really feels about things, by acting as if she is fine, she is not allowing herself the emotional vulnerability necessary for others to be there for her when she needs it.

The closest thing we have had to this so far is with Kinger, and while having someone she feels comfortable enough to lament her feelings around is a good thing, this is one person, one person who is... not exactly mentally stable, to put it lightly. Is not exactly an end all be all solution to her problems.

Kinger being the only person who Ragatha can rely on is only gonna work for a limited amount of time, the more she represses, the more she hides her true emotions and clear mental instability, the closer she is to meeting a cruel fate, one that no one would be able to save her from because no one even realized there was something wrong with her. For in her pursuit to make everyone else happy, she has sacrificed her own happiness, as a result.

And then there's Jax.

Jax, in a lot of ways, is pretty much the polar opposite of Ragatha. While her leading trait is kindness, Jax's leading trait is being a complete and utter asshole. And while Ragatha is all about answering things in a roundabout way to ease stress, Jax is all about the blunt answers.

This is best shown to us in the pilot when, in the same scene where Ragatha tries to answer Pomni's question of "how do I leave?" in a way that wouldn't stress her out too heavily, Jax goes straight in with the "you can't". Jax is a pessimist, he has accepted that there is no way out, and is simply riding things as they go by.

Jax's leading character trait is all about causing as much chaos as he can for the sake of his own satisfaction. He doesn't care about how others feel, the only thing he cares about is causing as much chaos as possible simply because he can.

Yet that isn't all that's going on with Jax, there's something deeper here, something more complex.

When it comes to the scenes everyone points to when saying that Jax has a lot more going on with him than meets the eye, the scene where he reacts to Kaufmo's funeral is the one everyone looks at with an analytical lens, and that's for a good reason.

For I think this little scene might just tell us a lot more about Jax than we think.

One thing that I've come to notice about Jax's brand of chaos is that it's very reliant on others' reactions. All of the chaos he causes, all of the absurd and awful things he does are for the sake of seeing how others react. From throwing Pomni over the side of a truck and attempting to use her as a human bridge, or literally everything that he does to Gangle, it's all reaction-based, and that made me realize that, despite how selfish and uncaring he acts towards everyone else, community is still the one thing that truly matters most.

He needs the others so that they can react to his hijinx, as they are what give said actions meaning. If he had no crowd to watch as he acts like a shitty person, then he has no reason to do anything. But that is also where Jax's true character flaw comes in, his selfishness.

With how Jax is constantly pushing others around for the sake of his own amusement, Jax is very clearly a self-centered person. He is someone who is in it for himself and no one else. Who cares if others don't like him? Who cares if others despise him? As long as he gets to see funny things happen to people, he is gonna be okay.

But what happens when that method is no longer effective? What happens when the others don't give him the reaction he wants? What happens when he can no longer use chaos as a way to distract from the pointlessness of his reality?

Well, as scary as this may be to think about, Jax won't really have much of anything to fall back on. His cruel actions have wrote him into a corner. No one likes him, that much is obvious. And while Jax seems content with this now? What happens when he is put in the position of needing someone else's help?

Well, then he'll have no one, and it's ironically for the exact opposite reason to Ragatha. Ragatha's problem is that she is constantly repressing her emotions, despite the fact that she has people who care about her, she doesn't open up to them because in her eyes, her feelings are secondary to others'.

Yet Jax is the opposite, he's honest, he is self-centered, and that's also why he is one of the members who are in this most danger.

In a show that seems to be about how important community is and how important it is to stay together and be there for each other? To have a character who is the complete opposite of that. To have someone who doesn't care about others, who won't be there when someone else is hurting. To have someone who is actively making things harder for everyone... that just spells out demise.

Jax's true weakness is that he does not have a community who will be there for him when he needs it, he was never there for others so why should they be there for him? Meaning that when Jax is at the end of his rope, crying out for help, no one will listen, because as cruel as it sounds, most of the members would probably be happy that he's gone.

While this does admittedly rely a bit on speculation, I think what I've stated above might be the true reason for why Jax looked sad for a moment when the other characters were talking about the funerals held for those who have abstracted. Because in that small moment, he realizes he might not get a funeral of his own when he "dies", or if he did, no one would really have anything nice to say about him.

And that fear, that knowing of how the way you've built yourself up by putting others down has lead to everyone hating you, to everyone not having a single good thing to say about you... that is terrifying. And yet he hides it, he walks away, he refuses to attend the funeral because then he will have to be confronted with the uncomfortable reality of the fact that he won't die as someone who was remembered for doing good things.

The only thing he'll be remembered for, is how much everyone hated him. And all of that brings us right back, to Pomni.

I said at the beginning of this post, as well as with the title itself, that Ragatha and Jax matter to Pomni's character arc, but why is this? Sure they're both main characters so obviously they're going to influence her journey going forward, but how exactly does any of this matter to Pomni? It's simple really.

Ragatha and Jax represent two extremes, they represent what happens when you lean too far in one direction. In one case, it is caring too much about others and not caring about yourself, and in the other, it's caring too much about yoursef and not caring about others.

Pomni has already shown traits of both Jax and Ragatha. She has shown an empathetic, kindhearted side as seen in her interactions with Gummigoo, and she has shown a selfish side, as seen when she abandoned Ragatha for the "exit" in the pilot.

Pomni has shown herself to be both selfish and selfless. But what part of her matters more? Simple answer, both. It is important to care about others while also taking time to take care of yourself. Ragatha and Jax show what happens when you forget to do one of these things.

By always taking care of others, you're forgetting to take care of yourself, and by always taking care of yourself, you fail to take care of others. To find a healthy balance is to do both. To be aware of your own mental health while also making sure that others are doing okay too. And this is something that Pomni will need to realize if she is going to make it in the circus.

And this is where Jax and Ragatha become important. I believe these two will show Pomni how important it is to keep a balance of things. To not lean too far in one direction, as if you do, it spells bad news for you either way. And how will this be communicated to her and the audience?

Abstraction.

Think about it. If Ragatha and Jax's harmful practices continue without change and they end up abstracing because of it, that will be a wakeup call to Pomni, it will show her the flaws of being too selfless, and too selfish. Is it an extreme way to communicate such message? Sure, but it's also one that can't be ignored.

We, the audience, and Pomni, would see first hand the consequences of leaning too far in either direction, that if you don't find a balance, you will end up like Jax and Ragatha did.

And that's why I think these two in particular have been given so much screentime and attention these past two episodes. Because they are meant to show us the most extreme versions of Pomni's most prominent character traits.

The ability to care about yourself, and the ability to care about others.

Of course, I might be wrong in this assessment. We are far too early in the show's runtime to truly predict any big events like this. But from a narrative standpoint, I believe this interpretation makes the most sense in the way of showing us the audience, and Pomni, what truly matters. It's not just about you, it's not just about others, it's about both.

Thank you for reading.

[simpforrooster]

heard it all.

Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x f!Reader

summary: reader vents to mav and penny about her feelings for a certain mustached fighter pilot. a/n: my take on a request from @kpopgirlbtssvt. i latched on to one part of the request and took off. i hope you still like it!

"What's going on in that head of yours?" the low voice of Maverick pulls you from your thoughts.

"Hmm, I don't know what you're talking about," you reply, continuing on without another thought.

"You've been wiping down that same spot of the bar for ten minutes."

Maverick and Penny, your boss, exchange a knowing glance. You look at the rag in the hand as if seeing it for the first time.

"I think it's plenty clean, y/n," Penny comments, winking at Mav.

Placing a hand on your hip, you stare the two of them down. "What are you two silently saying to one another?"

Penny shrugs a shoulder. "Oh nothing." You can see it in her eyes though. She knows exactly what has your brain all a-mush.

More like who.

Bradley Bradshaw.

The Hawaiian shirt wearing aviator.

The hot Hawaiian shirt wearing aviator.

He captured your heart the first day you met him. Sure, his looks were what drew you to him initially. But he was so nice. Like green flags all around.

You shake your head at the two people who have become a pseudo family to you. Tossing the rag onto the counter, a sigh escapes your mouth.

"Y'all just give it up. We're just friends." Your voice breaks on the word friends, and your eyes squeeze shut to hide your embarrassment.

"Come on," Penny starts.

Holding up a hand, you stop her. "Penny, please. It already hurts enough. He's the nicest, sweetest guy I've ever met."

Your chest heaves as you breath through your emotions.

"I have never met another man like him. He makes me feel seen. He makes me feel beautiful."

Maverick makes a move like he is going to say something, but Penny lays a hand on his arm, stopping him.

"And as if the silly little age difference isn't enough, he only sees me like a sister." A tear falls along your cheek, surprising you. Of course, you've grieved the non-relationship before. It isn't out of the norm to sob into your wine glass with Phoenix.

It's the first time you've ever cried in front of Penny and Mav.

The sound of a clearing throat has your spinning around.

Rooster looks at you, his brows knit together. You can't read the look on his face, but it can't be good. It tells you everything you need to know.

He heard it all.

And he doesn't feel the same.

Reaching up to sloppily wipe your tears, you tried to step around him, mumbling something so incoherent you can't decipher the words.

Rooster's strong arms reach out and stop you in your tracks.

"I can promise you I do not see you as a sister," he says, his voice low.

Not that you try, but words refuse to come out your mouth. How could they? The way he's staring at you has your heart beating in overdrive.

"Did you really mean all that?" he asks. His eyes roam over your face, searching for something. It takes you a second to realize he looks a little scared.

Scared of being rejected.

Bradley doesn't like you back. There's no way. He's had plenty of opportunities to make a move and hasn't.

He takes one step closer to you, the soles of your shoes meeting.

"Of course, Bradley." The sentence comes out barely a whisper, but he heard it. His hand snakes around your neck and settles into your hair. "Why wouldn't I be madly in love with you?"

A delicious groan escapes from his mouth before he closes the space between you. His lips meet yours and suddenly the Earth moves beneath your feet as the planets snap into alignment.

Bradley's lips are finally on yours, and it feels every bit as right as you imagined.

He pulls back so his mouth is feather light against yours. "Sweetheart, I am wildly in love with you." The words fall on your ears in soft whispers. Your eyes fall closed to relish in the way all this feels.

Bradley brings his mouth back to yours, pulling you tight against him. Your height difference has never been more apparant that right this second.

"Okay, okay, get a room," Maverick calls, followed by a, "Oof," as Penny's arm comes into contact with his solid stomach.

masterlist.

a/n: i hope y'all enjoy this one! i've been struggling with a little bit of writer's block.

[pressureplus]

Hey!!

Love you writing, and say your ask box was open!

Was wondering if you could do headcannons for Seb with a partner(who’s also an experiment) who’s extremely scared of physical contact, basically helping them recover and learn to find comfort with each other?

Just thought it was a cute idea and would love to see some headcannons for it!!

keep up the awesome work!!

Hi! Thank you, we have a lot of fun writing things for you all, and we adore this fish as much as everyone here💕 I LOVE these kind of Headcannons, comfort is one of my personal favorite kinds of things to write for! Hope you like it! 💕💕💕

(Also, I didn't know if you wanted romantic or not, so I pinpointed where the platonic stuff stops and the romance begins for y'all)

Sebastian Solace x Experiment Reader Headcannons

Warnings: Mentions of abuse, Mentions of Violence, Injury, Blood, Trauma, and Touch Related Issues

◞꒷◟ ͜ ͜ ◞ྀི◟୨୧◞ྀི◟ ͜ ͜ ◞꒷◟◞꒷◟ ͜ ͜ ◞ྀི◟୨୧◞ྀི◟ ͜ ͜ ◞꒷◟

• You only really met because you needed his help

• Had you not found yourself wounded, hungry, and on the brink of death, you'd never have trusted any creature that could take Pandemonium in a fight

• But, as you may have guessed, the stars aligned in your favor and you gained a friend

• The things that had made you the thing you are today gave you a less than ideal relationship with the idea of being touched

• Your old cell, a less so opinion of being in confined, cornering spaces

• Sebastian had been pissed when you writhed and shrieked and fought him when he was trying to tend your wounds

• Almost gave up on you immediately and turned you out, grabbing you by the shoulders and nearly heaving you back into the vent you'd drug yourself through in the first place

• It was the fear in your eyes that changed his mind, something that was familiar to him in a way that ran deep

• it was his own looking back at him

• You had to tend all your own injuries, but he did make a point to slide you the med kits instead of wrestling you or throwing them

• Was surprised when you pulled through, honestly, and even more surprised when you returned that night after your first outing in weeks to sleep in the space he'd give you to recover in

• By this point, he'd grown fond of having the company, finding his own comfort in the familiarity and shared experiences you two had

• The Expendables don't understand what it's like to be in this place the way it was, they don't understand getting experimented on like this, being conditioned a certain unnatural way, being mistreated and seen like monsters

• The researchers and scientists and actually valued UrbanShade Personnel could never understand either, finding some sort of honor or privelege in getting to aid such a massive, self-justified name like the one this god forsaken company holds over its own head

• Not even the other creatures here could relate to him, unable to speak, many of them truly mindless and animalistic- if not those things than things people were afraid to disrespect for fear it would lash out, a luxury that Sebastian and Yourself never got to know on account of the fact they all knew you to be prisoners and knew you to be weak to one thing or another

• Painter was close, but never human. The only one willing to speak to him like a person... Still yet unable to connect with for not knowing what it is to have been human and to have it taken

• But you understand him.

• You two were treated alike, coming from similar backgrounds, coming from places that would never prepare you for this

• You both need that connection, and he knows that when you pull yourself into his shop. The same way you know this when he slides your food forward for you to have in the evenings

• Touch isn't natural to you anymore, nor is it to him, so no matter how much you both want it, you stay distant

• Your voice suffices for a long while, finding the bond you grow to share in old stories from the world that was taken from you and in time spent helping him run his shop and in dreams to feel the sunlight on your new scales

• This new skin has never known sunlight, but it is starting to know kindness, isn't it?

• "Would it be too far for me to hold your hand? Would it be strange?"

• The first hurdle you have to jump on your recovery is still at distance, hesitantly and awkwardly pushing your hand against his own, sitting stiffly on opposite ends of a desk and refusing to look at one another

• It's not comfortable, but it gets the job done, right? A good step in the right direction!

• God the road to recovery is long =_=

• The first time it happens on its own seems to surprise you both, it's a hand on your back when he leans around you to grab for some of the data on the table in front of you for sorting

• Both of you were a little stiff about it, but it was quick and had a purpose, so it wasn't torture

• A neutral experience, but not bad!

• After this, it eases into being natural

• Brushing hands, correcting a strand of hair for him, patting you on the shoulder- even playful little hip bumps when you two get comfortable enough

• Like ice, the wall between you melts away as you fall into rhythm with your shared life

• It starts to feel nice when he gives you attention like that

• Those big clawed hands stop being scary, and you can no longer imagine why you were very frightened when he reaches forward to boop your nose and call you a stupid little idiot for dropping something

• Is never going to be completely nice to you, did you forget the man you decided to marry harass is mean?

• If you don't feel anything for him further than things that are platonic this is where your life together mellows and settles, into a comfortable spot where you two take care of each other and support one another, everything one another has

• If you feel more?

• It's laughing and joking, and all at once you break through the surface tension in ways you never thought you were ever going to have again

• You share a kiss.

• It's hard to tell who leaned in first, but before you can even think about it, your lips are warm and your mind is buzzing

• It's slow and steady and light, hands coming up to cup your face so softly and gently

• Any place your hands rest on him, he leans into, purring and kissing at you as long as he can get away with

• His fins? Fluttering. His tail? Wagging. . . His heart is damn near stopped with how many skips it's taking

• Heart may as well be playing hopscotch, you better pull away before he hits the ground

• After this, you get to enjoy time cuddling and kissing and basking in what it feels like to be loved again

• He could never be more content than he is to be pressed against you

• Even in the bodies you're stuck in now, he could never be happier than this ❤️

[nevergonnaloveagain-hey]

Please write another dating Hozier headcannon!

a/n: OMG i did not expect the first one to get so much love, thank you SO MUCH! Sorry this one is a bit shorter but I hope you like it either way :) 

Here’s part 1 in case you missed it btw

I feel like your relationship would be private but not secret

Like he probably puts a picture of you in some of his concert posts on instagram or brings you along to some festivals or events as his date

Maybe even small and casual mentions of you during interviews, like “yeah, me and my partner did this the other day” or “my partner really likes that…” He’s obsessed with you i fear

You would be spotted pretty often at his shows just singing along and having a good time with your/his friends. He would for sure be looking at you the whole show just so happy to have you there and would occasionally wave or blow you kisses

I don't know why but I love the idea of him teaching you about bees and giving you small updates about his hives and any new additions he’s made. 

He’d love to teach you how to play the guitar (if you can’t already) and just sits behind you while guiding your fingers in the correct places to play one of his songs or one of your favourite songs

And he would definitely get so excited for you if you manage to learn even just two chords and play them without his help

If you already know how to play the guitar, he would ask you to play him so many songs and just admire you the entire time you do but completely deny the fact that his loving stare is distracting you

He truly values cozying up together in bed or on the couch and having deep and meaningful conversations about anything and everything that is on your mind that day whether it is something that is bothering you and you need to vent to him about or if it is just about a new tv show you just watched

This man loves cuddling you and will never pass one up, even if he is in the middle of doing something he will either stop and snuggle up with you for a while or continue what he is doing if it’s important but hold you close to his chest while he tries to finish up faster

He would get so excited after reading a new book or poem and would immediately want to show it to you or talk to you about it, especially if it reminds him of you or your relationship. He would not hesitate to read to you if you wanted, even at night if you ever have trouble sleeping and just want to hear his voice

He does not shy away from showering you with compliments, for example, if you are trying out some new clothes for an event, party or a date, he would be endlessly telling you how good you look and would not be able to take his eyes off of you the whole time

He loves to call you pet names like darling or honey at all times even if you are arguing and especially if you haven’t seen each other in a long time

Speaking of arguments, they would get resolved so quickly. He just can’t stay mad at you and would feel terrible even after you two have made up, so expect a lot of kisses to make it up to you

He would also never yell at you during these arguments and would keep calm throughout it, knowing that shouting doesn't fix things any quicker

Since he is so tall, he would love to kiss the top of your head or your forehead on a daily basis

Especially at night, like this man will not go to sleep unless he gives you a soft peck on your forehead

[weenwrites]

hiiiii! I was hoping you could do headcanons for the decepticons (any of your choice) and how they would react to finding out that a young human has somehow got onto the nemesis (nobody knows how and nobody ever will🥸) and started causing trouble, like stealing stuff for their little hoard and drawing on the walls. You don't have to do this if you don't want to, but I hope you do 😊

[ Please do not repost, plagiarize, or use my writing for AI! Translating my work with proper credit is acceptable, but please ask first! ]:

Soundwave

As the "eyes and ears" of the Decepticons, almost nothing escapes his watchful gaze, save for you. He doesn't know how you've managed it, but you've gone ahead and made yourself a cosy little home somewhere within the confines of the ventilation system and even mocked him with these nonsensical scribbles on the walls.

He doesn't miss the way vehicons poke fun at him now that a pesky little human has somehow slipped his watch, and though you prove no serious threat to them, even Megatron finds himself a tad disappointed with the blatant deterioration in Soundwave's skills. First a human, then what? Are they going to start missing Autobot intruders stalking the halls?

Soundwave resolves to handle this himself, as now he has a personal vendetta to deal with on top of proving himself still worthy of his position to his lord and master.

Megatron

He's found humans to be quite the interesting bunch, a true mixed bag. On one hand those pests that the Autobots risk their lives to protect have been one of the biggest pains to the Decepticons, but on the other hand, CYLAS wasn't all that impressive once he ran out of assets to use. Yet you've proven yourself to be resourceful, relying only on your own skills to evade the watchful eye of one of the most skilled members of the Decepticons.

Were you on the Autobot side, you could've proven to be a concerning inside-threat, and that's where it hits him. Weaponizing a human in a more under-handed manner is something the Decepticons haven't tried yet. He issues word to the entire Nemesis to capture you upon sight, yet he's not exacting holding out hope that no one's killed you yet, nor is this idea of his worth getting too excited for.

Shockwave

You may have gotten a little too cocky. Shockwave may lose himself to his research and projects at times, but the moment he's aware of his surroundings it doesn't take long for him to pinpoint what's out of place. One of his rotary carvers are missing, one of the vent covers are missing a few screws, and that drawing on the inside of one of the table's legs isn't as discreet as you'd think.

It's clear there's a pest running amok. Nothing worth reporting to Megatron, and nothing to linger over for too long. He simply rigs one of his tools with a rudimentary trap, not his best work but it's not as if you're worth anything fancy. He leaves it out and walks away without sparing it another thought.

You were none the wiser and practically fell straight for it. It looked unassuming too, it looked as if it had fallen off the edge of the table and he had forgotten about it, so no one could really blame you. But the moment the trap was sprung, your limbs were bound yet no one came.

The other Decepticons know better than to poke and prod around in Shockwave's laboratory, or anywhere he turns into his general working area. And Shockwave was either busy with a long-term project that would take days to complete, or just knew to spend his time on more productive pursuits than checking the trap every now and then. Either way, it took around 2 days before Shockwave came to check on his trap.

Even upon seeing that he caught something, he paid you little mind, let alone acknowledged you in the slightest. He simply shoved you into the hands of some vehicon and asked them to "dispose of the waste in the incinerator".

[shadow4-1]

Shadow4-1's Masterlist for Headcanons/Imagines/Ficlets (Part 1)

I finally got around to making my masterlists! Under the cut is most of my headcannons, ficlets, you name if. They're in order by character - or group! I will be making a part 2 soon as Tumblr refuses to let me edit this anymore!

All links will be tagged with either an [NSFW] or appropriate genre tag like [Fluff] next to the title. Okay, I hope you enjoy. And please remember - MDNI! No age listed blogs will be blocked! (Banner Source)

Feel free to use any and all of my headcanons, imagines, etc. to make your own content! Credit/a tag would be nice! If not, I'd just appreciate a DM so I can read your content!

(Also, this isn't ALL of the content available on my blog! It's only the stuff I'm proud of. For everything I've ever written you'll just have to go swimming through my blog!)

Group Headcanons - {141} / {Los Vaqueros} / {Kortac}

(First) Kiss Imagines w/ the 141 Boys + Alejandro, Rudy, & Konig [NSFW]

No Boundaries - Task Force 141 Headcanons/Imagines [SFW]

Smelly - Reader & 141 Drabble [SFW]

Getting Drunk Imagines w/ the 141 Boys + Alejandro, Rudy, & König [SFW]

Getting drugged at a bar with the 141 [NSFW]

Captain Price:

Heart Eyes (Love At First Sight AU/Imagine - Reader x Price) [SFW/AU]

Getting bent over Price's knee and spanked with his belt in front of the boys [NSFW]

Simon "Ghost" Riley:

Sweet n' Silly Lieutenant Simon "Ghost" Headcanons [NSFW]

Man Thoughts - Ghost Edition [NSFW]

"King of the Forest" Ghost [SFW]

"There's only one bed" Trope [SFW]

You and Soap Trigger Ghost's PTSD [SFW/Fluff]

Doing yoga in secret some but Ghost's been watching the whole time [NSFW]

Ghost makes Soap get you on webcam [NSFW]

Pulling a knife on Ghost during sex [NSFW]

Soulmate!AU where you and Ghost are tied together through shared dreams [SFW]

A make-out session with Ghost [NSFW]

Ghost is a vampire AU [SFW]

Kissing both Soap and Ghost goodnight at the door [NSFW]

John "Soap" MacTavish:

Silly Little Soap Headcanons (w/ A Few Wee Nasty Ones) [NSFW]

You're Not My Boyfriend! - Crazy!Soap x Reader Imagine [SFW]

Ex-boyfriend Soap having a dirty polaroid of you [NSFW]

Doing a clothing swap with Soap for a training day [SFW]

Soap and Gaz getting unreasonably jealous over who you spend more time with [SFW]

Kissing both Soap and Ghost goodnight at the door [SFW]

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick:

Making out in a motel bed with both Gaz and Soap [NSFW]

Soap and Gaz getting unreasonably jealous over who you spend more time with [SFW]

Konig:

Man Thoughts - Konig Edition [NSFW]

Makarov:

A chance encounter with Makarov [SFW]

Reader-Centered Headcanons:

Reader who's just trying to do her damn job. [SFW]

The first time the 141 sees you in something other than your fatigues [NSFW]

The 141 purposely picking you out of a pool of potential candidates [SFW]

Scuba diving training with the 141 [SFW]

The 141's jealousy at you harboring a crush on another task force's star member [SFW]

The 141 stages an intervention for you (they don't like you seeing people that aren't them) [NSFW]

Moments between the members of the 141 that attaches them to you forever [SFW]

Having to break up small fights between the 141 [SFW]

Your first spat with a member of the 141 and how you might be dealt with (by either Price or Ghost)[SFW]

A "lazy day" with the 141, except, it's really just you getting them to finally wind down [SFW]

The 141 wants you to leave your normie boyfriend, and you do eventually [SFW]

Being annoying as fuck and the boys decide to fuck with you back [SFW]

Waking up in a 141 dog pile [SFW]

You start to become an Omega (A/B/O Dynamic AU) [NSFW]

Texting your usual fuck buddy (Soap) to come to your room, except he doesn't - but Ghost does [SFW]

The 141 rents out a "haunted" mansion only for the place to be exactly as advertised [SFW]

Promising a kiss to whichever 141 guy wins a mock FIFA tournament [SFW]

Becoming the 141's medic by accident and tragedy [NSFW]

Doing some vent maintenance on base and getting stuck [NSFW]

Being nervous around the 141 and yet STILL garnering their attention [SFW]

A "lazy day" with the 141 (or getting them to calm down after a mission) [SFW]

Catching glimpses of the 141's search history [NSFW]

Unknowingly giving the 141 boners [NSFW]

Trapped for a week in a shithole safehouse [SFW]

[soleilpinto]

Changing Lanes (Pepe Martí) ✩°｡ ⋆⸜ 🎧✮

“I thought I’d never be okay, but now I know that I’m okay.” (Niki, La La Lost You) ⋆˙⟡ —

Synopsis: After a crush on driver Paul Aron leaves you heartbroken, you unexpectedly find yourself pursued by Campos Driver, Pepe Martí. As he gently shows you kindness and patience, you start to realize that love isn’t as hopeless as it once seemed.

Genre: Angst, Slowburn + Fluff !!

Pairing: Pepe Martí x Fem!Reader

Warnings: This entire fic in itself, because it was a random idea I had at 12 am after finding out the guy I started gaining feelings for had a girlfriend (PLEASE 2025 be good to me, I can’t keep going through these things even if it is for the plot)

Note: Honestly, I just wanted an outlet to vent out my feelings because I haven’t felt the pain of heartbreak in over a year and this one felt extra bittersweet because I couldn’t even form a connection with the guy. Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy reading this as much as I did writing it! Love lots, and don’t forget to like + reblog as always.

Chasing the Apex (Paul’s Version) !!

For as long as you could remember, you had noticed that love wasn’t always the kindest towards you. From one-sided crushes to having your heart crushed entirely by your ex, you honestly don't understand why the universe could be so cruel. That was until you met Paul.

As one of the social media managers for the Formula 2 grid, you handled posts and updates throughout race weekends. Being around the same age as most of the younger drivers, you got along with them pretty easily.

But none of them caught your attention quite like Paul Aron.

You’ve always noticed Paul. It’s hard not to, really. He’s the kind of person who effortlessly draws attention with his charm, his smile, and the way he carries himself—like he’s not just a talented racer, but someone who genuinely enjoys life, which made him one of the highlights of your first season on the grid as well.

His presence lights up a room, and though you’ve crossed paths a few times during FIA events or networking opportunities, you’ve never had the chance to talk to him. But every time you see him, something about him draws you in, leaving you with a flutter in your chest that you can’t quite explain.

It happens again one evening, at a Porsche networking event. You’re standing near the refreshment table, trying to stay calm as you check your phone, making sure everything’s ok for your blog post the next day. Then you hear a voice, smooth and warm, cutting through the chatter.

“Is the Wi-Fi in this place always this spotty, or is it just tonight?” Paul says, his tone light and friendly.

You glance up, slightly startled. His smile catches you off guard, as if he’s genuinely amused by the moment, not just making small talk. He’s standing a few feet away, holding a drink in one hand, his other hand casually resting on the edge of the table.

You laugh softly, trying to steady your nerves. “Honestly, it might just be this place. I’ve had worse reception at airports.”

He chuckles, a sound that’s easygoing and somehow puts you at ease. “I swear, Wi-Fi is the real race here. Always competing with my connection.”

You can’t help but smile at the way he talks, as though you’re both sharing a private joke. The conversation stays light, but it’s easy. There’s no awkwardness. He listens as much as he speaks, and you feel like, for a few moments, the world narrows down to just the two of you. But then, just as quickly as the moment began, it’s over. 

Paul nods, excusing himself to chat with someone else, leaving you standing there, feeling a strange mix of giddy and disappointed.

Over the next few days, you find yourself replaying that brief encounter in your mind, analyzing every word, every glance. Each time you pass him at the track or at another event, you catch yourself lingering, watching him from the corner of your eye, fascinated by the way he interacts with everyone around him.

He’s effortlessly kind, almost too charismatic for his own good, and you can’t help but be drawn to him even more, though you keep your feelings to yourself.

It’s all so easy for him, and you can’t shake the thought that he’s the kind of person who could make anyone feel special. Even if he doesn’t notice you, you find yourself quietly admiring him from afar.

One evening, you’re idly scrolling through social media, distracted by the usual updates and posts, when something catches your eye. It’s a tag in one of Paul’s photos, leading you to a girl’s account. You hesitate for a moment, but curiosity wins out, and you click on it.

You had seen this girl around and recognized her as the new Hi-Tech GP social media intern.

At first, it’s easy to tell yourself that you’re just browsing. After all, it’s just another account, right? But soon, you find yourself diving deeper—scrolling through the posts, the captions, the shared moments between them.

Each photo feels like a glimpse into a world you’ll never be a part of: the vacations, the inside jokes, the smiles exchanged in private moments.

At first, you brushed it off as nothing more than a friendship, but the more you saw, the more it seemed like there was something more. It’s all perfectly curated, as if everything about their relationship is designed to be seen, to be admired.

Before you even knew it, you find it. A highlight that’s pinned at the top of her profile—a video of Paul looking at her with such tenderness in his eyes.

The way he smiles, so genuine, so in love, sends a sharp pang through your chest. You swallow hard, the weight of the moment settling in. He’s taken. And there’s nothing you can do about it.

As you sat there, staring at more photos of them smiling, traveling, and sharing intimate moments (there were even photos of her with his family and you almost felt like throwing up), the weight of it settled on you.

It hit you all at once—the reality that Paul wasn’t just out of reach, but he was with someone else. And in that moment, the pain was sharper than you expected. You’d been holding onto a hope that was never yours to have, and suddenly you’re reminded of why you never pursued a connection, until now.

Another rush of emotions hit you like a bus—jealousy, sadness, and a crushing sense of inadequacy. You couldn’t help but compare yourself to the girl in the photos, wondering if you were ever enough or if you’d ever measure up to what Paul seemed to have with someone else.

It seemed impossible, especially when you were just a regular girl, whilst Paul’s girlfriend looked like she modeled during the off-season.

It didn’t make sense, you knew that. After all, you had no claim over him. But the feelings didn’t care about logic. The more you thought about it, the more it hurt—you couldn’t shake the sting of seeing them together, knowing you weren’t ever meant to be part of his story.

It felt like a cruel reminder that no matter how much you’d hoped, love was always just out of reach. The realization hits you like a punch to the gut, and for a moment, you can’t bring yourself to look away.

It is now the present and you feel better, but you haven’t fully healed from the trauma just yet. You were so determined to distract yourself from the pain that you had thrown yourself into work and your blog that you had created as an escape from the world.

The rhythm of curating content helps clear your mind, and you even rediscover hobbies you had set aside for too long in the midst of it all. You hadn't given up on love entirely but forced yourself to keep your mind occupied so that the pain would be the least of your worries.

Whenever the emotions and stress of work start to overwhelm you, you lean on your friends, finding comfort in their support and understanding. It’s not a perfect fix, but it helps you push forward, one step at a time.

Ever since you decided to swamp yourself with work, you started to find new friendships with the other rookies and drivers on the grid.

Pepe Martí is someone you’ve seen around before, but you’ve never really interacted with much. You were always mostly with Paul or Ollie, sometimes Isack, Pepe’s teammate, but you barely crossed each other’s paths unless it came to media or updates regarding the F2 socials.

Unexpectedly, as you start to bump into him more often, you start noticing his presence just a bit more. At first, it’s casual—a quick hello in passing, a smile shared before he goes on his way. But soon, it feels like more.

You start to notice how often your paths cross, as if the universe is aligning in subtle ways, but you digress, since you were way too focused on yourself and work to even think about anything else.

Soon enough, you find yourself hanging around the Campos Racing garage during the next few races. What catches you off guard is how warm and attentive Pepe is whenever you’re there to have a casual chat or just to relax before they get on track.

In every conversation, whether it’s about racing or something completely unrelated, he listens with genuine interest.

There’s no rush, no forced small talk. It’s as if he cares about what you’re saying, and that’s something you didn’t realize you’d been missing.

You first notice it one afternoon when you’re at the F2 paddock, buried in your phone and laptop as you work on a new blog post. A familiar voice interrupts your focus.

“Hey,” Pepe says, leaning against the fence next to you with a casual smile. His presence is relaxed but unwavering, as if he’s just always there. “I saw your latest post about the Monaco Grand Prix. That was pretty solid. You have a real way with words.”

You glance up, a little surprised by the compliment, but you return his smile. “Thanks,” you reply, trying to keep your voice steady. “I’ve been diving into the details a bit more lately.”

You weren't used to compliments on things like your blog, but when someone notices how much work you put in, you can’t help but feel bashful.

Pepe nods, clearly interested. “I can tell. I didn’t realize you knew so much about the strategy behind it all.”

“F1 is a lot more than just the race itself,” you explain, feeling a spark of excitement. “It’s the stories, the tactics, the behind-the-scenes stuff that gets missed.”

He seems genuinely engaged. “You should do a piece on how the strategy changes with the weather conditions next time. It’d be interesting to see your take on it.”

You blink in surprise, almost speechless. “That’s a great idea, actually,” you admit, a little flustered.

Pepe grins. “Glad you think so. I’ll be reading it when it’s up.” He straightens up, giving you a wink before walking away, leaving you both flattered and puzzled by his sudden interest.

‘Lock in, Y/n. God, now is not the time to be flustered because of a guy,’ you try to shake off the feeling but can’t help but feel a newfound sense of appreciation towards Pepe.

Over the next few days, you notice Pepe around more. It starts with small things—asking for your opinion on the latest race results, asking if you’re going to any of the after-race events, or simply offering a casual “Hey, how’s the blog going?” when he sees you walking between the pits.

Each time, his words are light but thoughtful, as though he’s genuinely interested, not just making small talk. There’s no rush to any of his actions, no pressure—just a quiet confidence that feels both comforting and intriguing.

One evening, after a long day of racing, you find him sitting in the garage and staring out at the grandstand as he is looking up at the sunset. You walk over, hesitant but curious.

“Mind if I join?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

He looks up, his smile warm and easy. “Not at all. The view’s better with company, anyway.”

You sit down next to him, and for a few moments, there’s just the hum of the distant engines and the warmth of the setting sun. Then, quietly, Pepe turns toward you.

“I like how you see things,” he says, his voice sincere. “The way you talk about the races, the details... it’s like you bring a whole new perspective to it. Not many people see it the way you do.” You look at him, surprised by his words.

“I’m just... trying to share the side of it people don’t always notice. You know, the stuff that’s hidden.” Pepe nods slowly, as if processing your words. “Yeah, I get that. You have a way of making the unseen things feel important.”

For a moment, you both sit in comfortable silence, the connection between you growing deeper with each passing second. He doesn’t push. He doesn’t rush. He’s just there, a steady presence, showing up when you least expect it.

And slowly, it starts to feel like maybe this quiet, consistent attention is something more than just friendly banter.

It wasn’t noticeable at first—mostly small gestures that you brush off as coincidence.

One morning, after a particularly tough day at the track, you’re buried in your laptop, trying to finish up a blog post, when you hear footsteps behind you.

You look up to find Pepe standing there, holding out a Red Bull can in your direction with a small smile.

“Figured you could use this,” he says, his voice casual but thoughtful. “You looked like you could use a pick-me-up.”

You blink, surprised by the gesture. Energy drinks weren’t exactly your choice of drink when it came to caffeine, but you were grateful for the drink. “Thanks, I really appreciate it.”

Pepe shrugs, a playful glint in his eyes. “No problem. I’ve been there—long days, late nights. Thought a Red Bull might help since I don’t really like coffee.”

You accept the drink and open it, feeling a warmth spread through you—not from the Red Bull, but from the kindness in his eyes.

It’s not the first time he’s done something like this. The more you think about it, the more you realize that, over the past few weeks, he’s been going out of his way to make sure you feel seen—whether it’s checking in on how your day’s going or making sure you’re okay during hectic moments.

As the days pass, he starts sharing stories about his own struggles in racing—how he’s dealt with pressure, the challenges of balancing his personal life with his career (not to mention the shitty luck he’d been having lately).

His openness catches you off guard, and you find yourself listening intently, feeling a connection you didn’t expect.

“You’d be surprised how much racing can mess with your head sometimes,” he says one afternoon, leaning against a wall as he talks. “But you have to push through, even when everything feels off.”

His words linger with you long after the conversation ends. And for the first time, you see him in a new light—not just as someone who’s kind and attentive, but as someone who truly understands the ups and downs of life, someone who knows how to make you feel special without even trying.

Despite Pepe’s kindness lately, you hesitate. Every time he goes out of his way to make you feel special, you can’t help but feel a flutter in your chest, but something pulls you back.

Your mind still lingers on Paul—the way he smiled at her, the way his presence felt so magnetic, even from a distance. It’s like an anchor you can’t shake, a feeling you’re not ready to let go of.

One night, unable to sleep, you find yourself texting your closest friend, Marina. You vent about everything—how much you’re drawn to Pepe’s attention, but how you feel stuck on Paul, unable to move past the crush that was never meant to be.

Your Marina’s reply comes almost immediately. "You’re holding onto something that wasn’t yours to begin with. Paul is in a relationship, and no matter how much you wish it were different, you deserve more than just hoping for a chance."

The words hit harder than you expect, and you feel the truth in them—like a weight lifting off your chest. You pause, staring at the screen, then take a deep breath. "I know," you text back. "I’m just scared to let go."

Your friend’s response is simple but reassuring: "Letting go doesn’t mean forgetting. It just means making space for something that’s actually real."

You close your eyes for a moment, letting those words sink in. And for the first time, you feel the weight of holding onto Paul begin to lift, replaced by a quiet sense of clarity. Maybe you’re ready to move forward.

It’s late one evening, and you find yourself talking to Pepe again, this time in the quiet of a nearly empty garage after a long day of media and racing.

The conversation starts off light, but as the hours pass, something shifts. You’re sitting across from him, both of you exhausted but not ready to call it a night.

Without warning, Pepe looks at you, his usual playful demeanor replaced by something more earnest.

“You know,” he says, his voice softer than usual, “I really admire how you handle everything. I’ve seen the way you juggle work, racing, everything. You’ve got this strength about you that’s... rare. It’s not just about how you push through tough times, but the way you stay true to yourself, even when everything feels impossible.”

You blink, caught off guard by the sincerity in his words. “I... don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything,” he replies, his gaze steady. “I just think you’re incredible. And I don’t think enough people tell you that.”

His words catch you off guard, and something inside you stirs—a warmth, a flutter of something new. The walls you’ve carefully built around yourself begin to crack, just a little.

It’s not just the compliment itself, but the way he says it—without any expectation, no hidden motive. Just pure, honest admiration.

You look at him, really look at him, and for the first time, you begin to see him in a new light. He’s not just kind and attentive—he’s genuine, and that genuineness makes everything about him feel different, something you didn’t expect.

You sit in silence for a moment, letting his words settle in. The weight of the day, the pressure of expectations, and the uncertainty that’s been following you around seem to melt away, if only for a brief second.

You didn’t realize how much you needed to hear that—to be seen, really seen, for who you are and not just what you do.

Pepe shifts a little, his gaze still warm and steady. “I know and understand that it’s not easy. I’ve seen how much effort you put into everything you do. But don’t forget that you deserve to have someone see you for the amazing person you are, not just for what you’re capable of.”

You swallow, blinking away the unexpected emotion. The vulnerability in his words makes your heart ache, but in a way that feels freeing, like a weight lifting off your shoulders. “I... don’t know if I believe that,” you admit, your voice softer than you expected.

“You will,” he says with a smile that makes your chest flutter. “Because you’re worth it. You’ve always been worth it.”

The sincerity in his eyes, the quiet but powerful way he expresses his admiration—it breaks through the last of the walls you’ve built up around yourself.

In that moment, you realize how much he’s not just seen you, but understood you. And maybe, just maybe, it’s time to start seeing him, too, not as someone in the background of your thoughts, but as someone who could be a part of your future.

Suddenly, you realize that this connection with him could be more than just a passing feeling.

As the days pass, you find yourself spending more time with Pepe—whether it's during work events, casual hangouts, or just those quiet moments where the world seems to slow down. And with each interaction, you begin to notice the little things that set him apart.

It’s in the way he listens when you talk, really listens, as if he values every word you say. He doesn't just hear you; he understands you.

When you ramble on about your latest fashion idea or a new post you're planning for your blog, he’s there, nodding along, offering insights or just genuinely interested in what excites you. He makes you feel like your passions are important, even if they seem trivial to others.

And then there’s the way he encourages you, not just with words, but in his actions. When you doubt yourself, he’s there to remind you of your strength, to tell you that you’re capable of so much more than you realize.

It’s the little things—those quiet words of encouragement when you need them most—that make you feel seen in ways you hadn’t expected.

But perhaps most of all, it’s the care he shows for your happiness. It’s the way he asks about your day, not because he feels he has to, but because he genuinely wants to know.

How your day went, if you’re feeling okay, if there's anything he can do to make things better. It’s a kindness you didn’t know you needed, and slowly, you begin to realize that these small acts—these simple gestures—are what make him someone truly special.

When things aren’t going as smoothly for him, you’re there to support him in the same way. You’re with him through the highs and the lows, whether it’s during a frustrating race where he’s forced to retire early or a weekend where things just don’t seem to click.

After a no-finish result in one of the races, you tell him: “You gave it your all. It wasn’t your day, but I know you'll bounce back.” It’s the small, thoughtful words that show him you care, even when he’s at his lowest.

Then comes the Azerbaijan Grand Prix. You’re watching the race unfold, and your stomach drops when you see his car lose control and crash.

You hold your breath, your heart pounding, as the screen cuts away. Your thoughts race until you hear an update confirming that he’s okay, but you can’t help but worry. You know he’s going to be shaken up, even if it doesn’t show.

You’re one of the first people to get to the medical bay after the crash. When you walk in, Pepe is sitting on the bed, his helmet off, his face a mix of frustration and exhaustion.

His eyes meet yours, and for a moment, there's a silence between you. He’s still processing everything that just happened.

“Hey," you say softly, approaching him. "You good?"

He gives a small, tired smile. "Yeah, just... it's frustrating, you know? I thought I had it under control, but... things happen. Not to mention the lock up we had the other day,"

You pull up a chair beside him, sitting down without a second thought. "I saw it. But you’re here, and that’s all that matters." You place a hand on his arm, offering a quiet reassurance. "I’m just glad you're okay."

He meets your eyes, his expression softening. "Thanks for being here," he says, his voice sincere. "It means a lot, more than you know."

For a moment, you just sit there together, the chaos of the race weekend fading into the background. And as you talk about the race, his crash, and what’s next, you realize just how much you care—not just for his career, but for him.

The connection you share feels deeper than ever, something solid and real.

After everything—the highs and lows, the moments of doubt and clarity—you find yourself standing at a crossroads.

You think about all the times you’ve hesitated, the moments you almost pulled away, unsure if you were ready to move on, still clinging to a love that never was. But as you look at Pepe, sitting beside you, as present and steady as he’s always been, something clicks.

It’s not just the way he’s supported you, or how he’s always seen the best in you, even when you couldn’t see it in yourself.

It’s how he makes you feel, not just valued, but cherished for exactly who you are—the messy, complex, imperfect you. In his eyes, you’re enough. And for the first time in a long time, you believe it, too.

Pepe’s kindness, patience, and unwavering support have shown you a kind of love that’s not based on fleeting moments or unattainable ideals. It’s real. It’s grounded. And more than anything, it’s filled with hope—a hope you hadn’t realized you’d lost until now.

So, when he looks at you, his gaze filled with something deeper than friendship, you finally allow yourself to take the leap. You smile, a little unsure, but ready. “Pepe, I think I’m ready for this.”

He grins, his eyes lighting up with a warmth that makes your heart flutter. “Me too,” he says, his voice low and genuine. “I’ve been waiting for you to be ready.”

In that moment, you know, with certainty, that you’ve chosen the right path. You’re not just moving on—you’re moving forward, with someone who will walk beside you every step of the way, supporting you, loving you, and reminding you that you’re worthy of all the happiness you’ve been seeking.

Epilogue:

Months have passed since you and Pepe decided to give love a real shot, and life has never felt brighter. His unwavering presence and quiet strength have become your anchor, and the happiness you’ve found together is undeniable.

The laughter you share, the quiet moments together, and the way he looks at you with so much care and love, it all fills you with a peace you didn’t know was possible.

It’s the Abu Dhabi Grand Prix weekend, and Pepe is in peak form. You’re on the edge of your seat, clutching your puppy’s leash as the race unfolds.

When Pepe crosses the finish line in first place, the roar of the crowd barely registers as you’re too busy cheering alongside his parents with all your might.

Later, you meet him in parc fermé, tears of joy in your eyes as he steps out of the car. He doesn’t hesitate, pulling you into a tight hug, his helmet still tucked under his arm.

“I couldn’t have done it without you,” he whispers, his words meant just for you despite the bustling celebrations around you.

That evening, you’re by his side as the team celebrates his victory. The champagne flows, and the glow of his achievement lights up the room. But it’s the quiet moments you share—when he leans over to steal a kiss and murmurs how much you mean to him—that remind you how lucky you are.

The next day, as you’re strolling through the paddock together, you catch sight of Paul in the distance.

He’s talking to someone, but his eyes briefly flicker to you and Pepe. His expression shifts for just a second—an unrecognizable look you can’t quite place—but you don’t dwell on it.

Pepe squeezes your hand, and your attention snaps back to him. He’s smiling at you in that way that makes your heart race, the way that reminds you of why you chose him. The life you’ve built together is filled with love, laughter, and hope—and you wouldn’t trade it for anything.

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