#petty at myself for missing it this year

[galaxseacreature]

Last week I helped with a training for one afternoon and we were in a lovely little park by a lovely little stream and many of the salmonberries were ripe! And I couldn't figure out how that snuck up on me so completely. Someone pointed out that it's June and I just laughed it off as how time flies by. Only many hours later I realized-it’s because of my new job. I started at the beginning of May. A month of not being significantly outside near daily after two years of it. That's all it took. Such a short time to come so untethered

[6mayhem]

but i would give anything for just one day spent in the life i had when i was 15. it may not have been perfect but i felt like i belonged somewhere. and i didn't worry so goddamn much about the big picture

[arctic-hands]

Oh my high school would have absolutely believed this. My sophomore year, a very strict dress code went out two weeks before school started, when most kids had already bought their new clothes, with rules saying things like no stripes, plaid, patterns, mixed colors of any kind. All clothes must be solid color with no decoration of any kind. I was "lucky" to have been in summer school that year so I got advanced notice before I did my clothes shopping, and the experience was entirely frustrating (more than usual, seeing as I was a "tomboy"– i.e. trans–and clothes shopping with my grandmother who desperately wanted me to dress in feminine clothing like I did when I was eight), because my grandmother kept holding up clothes that were seemingly innocuous, like a blue shirt with slightly darker blue sleeves, and I had to keep telling her it would get me in trouble, and she didn't believe me and just thought I was being difficult.

Anyway, come to the start of the year where there was a one day "grace period" where it would be pointed out to students why their clothes were in violation but they wouldn't get in trouble the first day, as long as they wear appropriate clothes after. I must emphasize that most of the kids–in a public school with a sixty percent poverty rate–had already bought their clothes and couldn't afford to get new ones, especially within a day.

Come second day, where my high school suspended over two hundred students for dress code violations, some as small as having a tiny embroidered logo on your otherwise plain polo shirt, or having a jeans back pocket that had diagonal stitching going across it. I saw one kid walking out of school with a suspension slip wearing the exact same blue shirt with slightly darker sleeves that my grandmother tried to buy for me. Kids lost their scholarships after being suspended. The news got involved. Parents and suspended students picketed the school for the duration of the suspensions (I wanna say a week, maybe two). It was so bad the state launched an investigation and I think the school was fined (this was fifteen years ago so I don't remember all the details of what was going on with the admin side of things). It was awful and ridiculous.

And the school's rational for all of this? They truly believed, with all of their abundance of critical thinking skills, that drug deals were being conducted based on the pattern of shirts kids were wearing. That plaid meant they were looking for/selling cocaine, that a floral print meant marijuana, that this pattern meant that drug, and so on. They were completely convinced that all of us students were either looking for drugs or selling them, and they were willing to disrupt everyone's education, ruin scholarships (in many, many cases, the only way students in a very poor public school could have gone to college), be fined by the state, and have the administration blasted by not only the Indiana news media but by nearby Ohio too, than stop for a moment to consider that it's very unlikely that ninety-nine percent of the student body were dealing in drugs.

The kicker? The students that were actually known or suspected to be drug dealers started (jokingly, fueled by the irritation we were real feeling) spreading the rumors that the admins were the ones doing drugs themselves, because it was completely outlandish to think a floral print shirt meant any kind of drug use.

The school never apologized for this, even after the state investigation. The rules stayed in place for as long as I was in high school, which meant every year there were always freshmen being suspended because they didn't understand the very strict rules.

the brightly coloured skinny jeans that Teens wore in the late '00s and early '10s were meant to denote where you stood in gang hierarchy. salmon was the highest rank and meant you had killed someone.

I think the funniest part of this is that, if you'd floated this idea at the time, at least some parents would have believed you.

[shrenvents]

Professor Howlett

Warnings: Minors dni, smut, no protection, fingering, vaginal, doggy, pet names, squirting, age gap (legal!)

Pairing: Logan Howlett/Wolverine x Student (Mutant) reader

Summary: Your history professor always seemed uninterested in you, that was until you missed his class.

Word count: 2.7k

…

Throughout high school I’ve always kind of stood out. To be honest, I only have myself to blame. Bright colours and statement pieces are just so much more appealing, than wearing something ‘plain.’ Unfortunately, I did more than just “stand out” that day, just three weeks away from senior graduation. That fateful day, I was so close to the finish line, before my stupid ex-boyfriend discovered my secret, and outed it to the entire student body.

That I’m a mutant…

That was what led me across the coast, for most of the past year, running from god knows what. I heard the stories of mutants being hunted and gone missing, and I didn’t intend to stick around long enough, that I wouldn’t at least make it to my 20th birthday.

However, my days of swindling folks of cash and food came to a halt, when I spotted a man with red-tinted glasses watching me. His invested gaze observed my every movement, so I grabbed all my shit, and the last bit of petty change I managed to get, and sprinted into a crowd.

Just as I thought I was in the clear, my face collided with a colossal, firm chest. I pressed the heels of my palms into it, and felt the cotton of his white shirt, and the rough, yet smooth texture of his worn-in, leather jacket.

Logan Howlett, or should I say, Mr. Howlett, my history Professor... After he and Scott captured me, they dragged me by the ankles to their school for the “gifted.” I cringed when they said where we were headed, but once I arrived and saw all the kids, like me, going about their lives, free, I knew everything would be more than okay.

And one thing I knew for sure, is that I wouldn’t mind attending Mr. Howlett’s class. Did I know shit about history, yes. But I’ve always had a thing for the older guy, and from what I’ve heard, he’s more than enough in that department.

...

This morning, racing out of my room, I swore profusely at my tardiness... Just my luck. The one day that week I get to see and listen to Logan talk for an hour straight, my alarm malfunctions.

Multitasking between attempting to put on my hot-pink heels, wrapping my sparkly bag over my shoulder, and shutting my door, I missed the approaching figure behind me.

“It’s past 11 am, where do you think you’re headed?” I swivel on my toes, spinning to face Storm. “Class?”

“The only class you have left today kid, is at 2. You’ve managed to miss the rest already,” she scolds flatly.

“Noooo,” I fake astonishment and defeat, as I slowly back away from Storm's scrutinizing stare. She calls my name after I’ve taken at least two large steps backward. “Logan wants to see you,” she states, exasperated.

“Oh?” I straighten out, stopping my next step short. “Ok!” I exclaim, a little too perky. She huffs a faint smirk and walks off, and I take flight, zooming to Logan’s class, where he’s most likely dozed off.

Lo and behold, after knocking once and receiving no response, I open the door to see him snoring. With his legs fully extended, and feet resting on his desk, I bask in his lengthy physic. I giggle and then go towards him.

Mr. Howlett?” I say, clearing my throat loudly, he grunts in his sleep and I smile. “Mr. Howlett?” I say even sweeter. A second later, I swear he mumbles my name and my heart stutters, but he’s still sleeping. I move in closer to his ear. “Logan,” I announce rigidly, and my change in tone makes him flinch, legs falling off the table, eyes popping open.

He rasps my name, voice echoing through the classroom. I refused to move away from my position, wanting to seem unaffected by him, but I was anything but. With his lazy eyes roaming over my skin, my heart races wildly. He clears his throat, and rolls his eyes away after taking in my attire, as he usually does —gives me a once-over, and rolls his eyes back to his focus on his lecture.

“You missed class, that isn’t like you,” he notes, almost to himself.

“Yes and I’m sorry-“

“I hope it wasn’t because you were too busy picking that outfit.” Logan scoffs and my eyes widen. He’s always made snarky comments, and this wasn’t anything new, but every time he does, I can’t help the boiling feeling in my lungs, that makes me rise to defend myself. “No, maybe I just felt like sleeping in?” I declare. A short-lived chuckle escapes him. “And you’re just gonna admit to that?” He smirks as he faces me. “I don’t like kids skipping my class.”

“First off, I’m an adult, second, you don’t care when kids skip your class,” I retort, with a growing smile, beaming across my face. Though, his complimentary smile, drops as mine comes to full form. He’s never seemed fond of my smile, or maybe it’s just me.

“You don’t skip my class.” He states once again, and my head quirks in confusion. “Um, I’m sorry?” I compromise, “It won’t happen again.”

“It better not,” He remarks dangerously. My brows furrow.

“Okay, I don’t get why it matters so much to you Mr. Howlett.” I place my hands on my hips, gazing down at him in his chair like I'm reprimanding a child. Which he is not akin to.

He lifts from his chair, standing up. I gasp as he towers over me. “Watch your tone, or I’ll fail ya,” he counters, fighting a smirk, staying stoic. “What?” I yelp and his smirk breaks through. My jaw goes slack. “Mr. Howlett, that’s not funny!”

“What’s not funny, is you pretending like calling me 'Mr. Howlett,' doesn’t turn you on.”

I freeze in disbelief. Was this one of my daydreams? Am I really awake right now?

“You heard me, you damn highlighter,” he asserts. “Call me Logan for fucks sake, if you’re a damn adult.” His scratchy voice loses its humour, and I stay frozen to the spot. “Get outta here, would ya,” Logan orders as he leisurely retakes his seat, getting comfortable for his next nap.

Unable to drag myself away, my eyes refocus on the subject of my desires. “Why do I have such a thing for assholes.”

Before Logan can respond angrily, I sit on his lap, dropping my purse to the floor, and straddling his hips. I cup his perplexed face and crash our mouths together, moulding them into one. He grunts in surprise as if he didn’t expect me to retaliate, as if he didn’t expect that I would want him this way.

He half-heartedly pulls away between kisses, whispering my name in small protests, but he gets muffled by my lips and grinds on his lap. Quickly, his objections turn into fierce groans. He takes my hips into his hands, tightly gripping into my flesh as he pushes me back, onto his desk. I whimper as his crotch stays glued to my core, even as we move. One hand then moves from my hip to my neck, holding it, then slowly sliding to my jaw, grasping it in a hungry, pressing kiss. His tongue laps my mouth, completely dominating me, and I struggle to breathe.

Just as I’m about to pull away to comment on how desperate he seems, his other hand flips me over with ease. My stomach is now on top of his desk, his crotch, like iron against my ass, and his hands trace down from my shoulder blades, to my bum. With my head hung over the desk, I pant, practically drooling.

“You’re asking for detention pinky,” he mutters, and I respond by pushing back into his hard cock. “I'm a sucker for extra attention teach,” I mention, as sensually as I could muster. He chuckles lowly, and I shudder. The pressure of his dick doesn’t change, and his hands continue their unhurried venture of me. “You like attention sweets?” Logan questions softly. His tone makes me shiver and whimper, yet again. “I like yours.”

“Just mine?” He questions darkly, telling me he doesn’t actually want any opposition. “Yes,” I whisper.

His voice drops an octave as he swears, rolling his hips into me once. I moan loudly. “Shhhh princess, you tryna alert the entire building?” He asks with amusement evident. I shake my head, no, and he laughs by my ear as he dips down. “Good, because I don’t like sharing your attention,” he says passively. “And I’d like to be the only ‘asshole,’ that gets to see what’s under these ridiculous clothes.”

“Hey!” I object meekly. I feel him smile as he leans away from my ear, and I turn my head over my shoulder to watch him peer down at where our bodies meet. “You probably want me to fuck you on this desk.” He speaks as though I’m not there to hear him. “Ya probably want to be taken here so that every time you’re sitting in my class, you can imagine me deep inside you.” He trails off as his hand pushes up my shirt, touching my lower back.

“But we can’t do that,” he sighs hoarsely.

“Why?” My reply is so quick that I grimace.

“Because, if we did, I’d be hard every time I’m in this fucking room, and that ain’t the smartest idea.” I moan at his crudeness and gasp when he pecks my naked spine, just below my bra clip. “Even your lingerie is pink huh?” He laughs smoothly. “Imagined it would be.” My legs rub together instinctively at his words.

“You imagined it?”

He pauses. “Hell yeah I did, though I tried to fight it,” he muses in between a groan. “It didn’t take me long to figure you wanted this too, princess,” he murmurs pleasantly.

After a long beat of silence and a little grinding, I speak up. “So now what? If you’re not going to make love to me here.”

He slowly pushes the hair over my face, behind my ear, tilting my head to face him just a bit. He then leans down and kisses me on the cheek.

“I’ll come to you,” is all Logan says as he reluctantly wrenches himself from me, after giving my ass cheek a mild slap. I yelp and nearly pout at the loss of touch. We hold eye contact as he backs away. “Get going, otherwise you’ll be late,” he comments airily. I nod and scurry out the room, with a grin plastered on my face.

...

After a long, vigorous rest of the day. I collapse into my plushy bed with a sigh.

“Took you long enough,” a dark voice rings, with a hint of familiar sass. I jolt up to see Logan leaning on my wardrobe. His tight shirt is further strained when his arms cross. “Been waiting to ‘make love' to ya all day,” he claims, with a mocking tone, repeating my "childish" words from earlier. My best guess is that he assumes I’m a virgin, from that sentence alone.

So, in an attempt to remedy my reputation, sitting up on my bed, with my arms bracing my figure, I slowly spread my bent legs. I bite my bottom lip, and his eyes shift down and blacken. “Get on with it then, Logan.” I roll my tongue as his name teasingly leaves my mouth. His head twitches in an almost feral manner, and I gulp.

“You’re asking for it,” is all he mumbles before pouncing on me. Our limbs tangle and I moan as his leg presses into my clothed clit. “Please,” I just about sob, to which he responds with an aggressive kiss and another crushing rub of his thigh. I moan louder, and he grunts, “You like that?” I push my hands into his hair, running my fingers through his thick locks. He lets out a coarse groan.

Loving how vocal he is, I decide to encourage him by groping his cock over his rugged jeans. “Fuck, baby,” he groans out when his mouth leaves mine. He then runs his tongue over my neck and collar, soon nibbling on my earlobe. His thigh continues to make work of me, and I match his pace. “You're so dirty,” he grins while his nose brushes my rosy cheek, and then he's kissing me. “I love it,” he professes with amusement, again, coaxing his tone.

Just as I begin undoing his belt, he flips me over on my stomach like before. Then, when I'm lying flat underneath him, he grabs my hips, to lift them towards his crotch as he kneels above. “I better see a pink thong,” he jokes as he strips me bare. He groans in satisfaction as I’m left in just my underwear for his viewing. “Unreal,” Logan practically purrs.

I wiggle my ass playfully, and he growls and smacks it harder than he did in his classroom. I squeal into my pillow, briskly going quiet when I hear his belt being ripped from the loops of his denim. Leaving my underwear in place, he runs his digits over the lace, making me whine, "Logan."

With his name on my tongue, it shortly turns into a cry as the lace covering my clit gets moved to the side, and two meaty fingers dive into me. "Shit, princess," he rasps. "How am I gonna fit?" He asks rhetorically, and I choke a sob, as he wastes no time building up an energetic pace, with his fingers.

He swiftly tears an orgasm from my trembling body, still holding my hips up with one hand. When his fingers leave, I hear his mouth clean them, and I swing my head to face him hastily, but he shoves my head back into my pillow. "So eager," he more or less snickers.

"Very," my smothered voice emits, barely audible.

I nearly shriek when his tip swipes my wet slit. Logan, without notice, suddenly pushes himself inside me, with an agonizing slowness, but I quietly persist. "Atta girl, that's it," he lazily groans out encouragements. My hands pathetically slide onto his thighs, unsure if I'm urging him for more, or begging for discretion.

At once, he shoves himself in all the way, and I let out an extensive sigh. His palm, which was just holding down my head, joins his other hand on my abandoned hip. He lets out various curses, along with my name, and begins to move, in and out. Soon enough, he's pounding into me at a savage rate, completely untamed. As well, it seems purposeful, how he simultaneously bends down to growl and moan in my ear, still thrusting.

He stirs another orgasm, still notably, not experiencing his own. "You look real pretty like this princess," he begins to ramble. "Gonna do this every fucking day." The rest of what he says gets lost in translation, as I grow overwhelmed and overstimulated.

Thoughtlessly, I try to crawl away while he still has my lower half hoisted up. Once Logan realizes what I'm up to, my pitiful effort has him laughing. "Where ya going?"

"Lo, it's too much-"

"Lo? Call me that again, it's cute," he hums.

"No more," I whimper, ignoring him.

"Just one more baby," Logan coos, while somehow increasing his pace, making me cum instantly, squirting a little. His moan rumbles in his chest, and he doesn't stop hammering into me. I grip my headboard, and one of his arms stretches alongside mine, to do the same.

When he cums, his grip snaps the wood, breaking a part of the headboard, making me shout in between sobs. He seems to not notice the damage, too busy finishing on my backside.

After a long minute, he slumps his large frame beside me. One of his arms stays drifting across my skin as his eyes intently coast over my features. "Maybe consider skipping my class more often," Logan expresses as his lips slightly tip upward. He presses his lips onto my shoulder. I smile, giggling, "Why?"

"Cause it doesn’t matter where I fuck you, there's nowhere I won't get hard looking at that pretty face," he smiles dreamily, "And you're impractical wardrobe.”

I giggle, "You truly have a way with words," I pause and smirk, "Mr. Howlett."

He rises onto his elbow with a devilish grin, "Now you're really asking for it princess."

Part two

[kumkaniudaku]

Spoiled

Summary: Tensions boil over on the Thanksgiving trip to New Orleans.

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!OC

Word Count: 3,060

Warnings: Smut (18+ content)

Previous: Sorry 2024

“Where’s Treece?” 

Terry couldn’t care less but entertained the question for his mother’s sake as he took the seat closest to the window at their reserved table for a late breakfast. 

“In the room pouting,” He grumbled with his annoyed glare focused solely on the breakfast menu. “She’ll be down eventually. Or not. I don’t know or care.”

Marvin chuckled over his mug of coffee. “I’m not all that convinced, son, but I’ll let you have it.” 

As much as they were lovers, Terry and Patrice were friends who bickered like siblings. Petty back and forths reared their ugly heads at inopportune moments, leading to heated, silent arguments. A refusal to raise their voices at each other out of respect resulted in hushed whispers and sarcastic jabs that were so ridiculous to those not involved that Terry’s parents often referred to them as live telenovelas. 

Their latest episode was the most trivial to date. 

Separate families stationed in conflicting parts of the country forced the newest Richmond couple to compromise on how they split their holiday schedule. With a family known for their culinary pursuits, Terry naturally claimed Thanksgiving for his side. Although she couldn’t bear the thought of missing her Nana’s fresh apple pie, Patrice compromised with the caveat that their New Year’s plans were neutral ground for them and them alone. Handshake and lip lock agreements set them on a path to plan for the final six weeks of the year. 

For all of his careful planning, Terry didn’t anticipate how his wife’s commitment to the pupils under her care would collide with his plans to spend extended time in New Orleans. 

“Baby, it’s just two days.” He explained to Patrice while he helped clear the table after dinner one evening. “I’ll get you on the first flight out Wednesday morning. Promise.” 

“I know, but still. I’m gonna miss you. We’re not apart that often.” 

“We’ll make it worth the wait once you get there.” 

Repeated promises to steal some alone time once reunited preceded quick kisses as Terry prepared to join his parents and siblings on a flight early Monday morning. But, once the sun set on their first day apart in months, loneliness and frustration set in for Patrice. Text messages slowed to a creep. Sparse voice notes attempted to fill the void left in their near-silent home. She wasn’t mad at Terry for enjoying time with his loved ones. She was pissed at herself for being so lovesick that her stomach churned. Sickening. This type of yearning was sickening.

Excitement took a backseat to unshakeable irritability on her solo flight to the Big Easy on Wednesday morning. No hugs, kisses, or meaningful conversation for 48 hours could send even the most solitary person over the edge. Terry sent messages in droves to share his excitement for her arrival and she fought the urge to snap back at him. His smiling face greeting her at the hotel’s front entrance briefly soothed her ire until the reality that they couldn’t shake his family’s company set in. 

Every private conversion came with an intrusion. Kisses meant to go further than a quick peck were interrupted before they could start. Attempts at sneaking away never came to fruition. Soon, Patrice’s sour attitude became Terry’s disposition. He knew his anger was misdirected, but couldn’t find the words to explain his annoyance. 

They didn’t speak before bed Wednesday night and barely looked at each other Thursday morning. One angry Richmond was enough. Two made everyone uncomfortable. 

“It’s time for breakfast, Treece.” What Terry intended as an innocent reminder came out as a gruff bark that he couldn’t take back before Patrice opened her mouth to respond. 

“I know! I can see the time!” 

“Then hurry up!” 

“Fuck it! I’ll eat by myself!” 

“Fine!”

“Fine!”

Their silly exchange ended with Terry tossing the second hotel key on the bed before he stomped out of the room, allowing the door to slam behind him. 

The moment replayed in his head as he scanned the menu for something they could share in case she made her way out of self-imposed solitary confinement. 

“Well, I hope she makes it down. I wanted her to try a few things,” DeeDee added, unaware that the entire conversation was pushing her son to his limits. “The French toast is something.” 

Terry rolled his eyes. “Yeah, well, if you can get her off the third floor, do whatever you please.”

“She’s probably happy to have you out of her back pocket. My girl can’t catch a break,” Zorah teased. 

Zanah laughed and shook her head. “You haven’t seen Patrice. I swear she was trying to climb into his skin when the elevator doors opened last night. They’re equally insane.” 

“See what happens when you end up in grown folks’ business?” 

“Oh, please.” 

Zanah childishly stuck out her tongue and received a middle finger pulled out of his hoodie’s front pocket as a prize for her antics. 

“Stop it, you two.”

“I thought when y’all became adults all this shit would slow up,” Marvin groaned, shaking his head as his two stubborn children traded schoolyard insults just short of joking about each other’s mama. Movement in his periphery offered what he hoped was a change of pace. “Oh thank God. The guest of honor is here.”

Patrice offered a weak wave and smile upon her approach, hoping they couldn’t see the remnants of a frustrated cry on her face. Terry could, though. He flashed her a concerned look and she answered with eyes that begged him not to inquire further. A round of hugs and greetings sent her to the empty seat across from her husband. 

The friction between them was palpable. They didn’t extend each other the luxury of pet names and googly-eyed grins like they normally would. Time spent canoodling was replaced by stolen glances and tight-lipped requests to pass over utensils. 

DeeDee cleared her throat for their attention. “Um, hi. Mom checking in here. Is there a problem between you two that we should be aware of?” 

“No,” Patrice answered loud enough to eclipse whatever Terry attempted to share. “We’re fine. James is not feeling very affectionate this morning for reasons unknown, but we’re fine outside of that. Right, James? Just fine, huh?”

“Peachy. Nicole is throwing a tantrum over God knows what but Nicole refuses to say more than three words to me at a time, so, while I love Nicole, I will not spend my morning chasing her around because Nicole is not a child and can use her words.”

Terry’s rant came through gritted teeth, leaving him almost out of breath as he neared the end. 

Patrice couldn’t formulate a rebuttal despite wanting to take their spat to the next level. She could only hang on to the firmness in his tone, the words sounding more like a warning than an explanation for their distance. Terry caught the flicker of something mischievous in her eyes and how she slowly crossed her legs beneath the table before grazing her foot against his clothed calf. His frown faltered for a moment. An unspoken understanding was telepathically communicated.

Four sets of eyes stared back at the standoff in utter confusion. 

Zanah took a loud sip of water to snap them out of their trance. “Oh-kay. So, I was thinking about gettin’ this crawfish omelet. Daddy, you oughta get the quesadilla so I can get a piece of that and, Zo, you get the Benny.” 

“But I don’t wanna share my food with you.” 

“Zorah! We are twins. We share!”

Chatter about seafood dressing and late-night spades tournaments planned for the rest of the day swirled around Terry and Patrice as they maintained senseless anger, too committed to the misunderstanding to relent without feeling embarrassed. 

The quiet simmer of mixed emotions followed them after tabs were paid, cocktails were consumed, and the elevator lifting them to the third floor was emptied of spectating parties. Terry pretended to type into his phone while sneaking looks at the way Patrice’s ass sat up in her leggings. 

“You wanna talk when we get in or what?” 

Patrice turned to look over her shoulder. “We can.” Her eyes caught the slow lick of his bottom lip before flickering back up to find him already watching her. “If you want.” 

“Good. I’m tired of the attitude.” 

“Great because I’m tired of yours.”

Having a civil discussion became a background thought once the soft buzz and click of their room door put them seconds away from the privacy they so desperately craved. 

Terry covertly slid the ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign on the outside handle before double-checking the deadbolt lock and metal latch. Patrice busied herself with the television remote, turning a rerun of CSI: Miami up to a reasonable volume. Just enough to drown out an explosive meeting of minds or bodies. 

“Ready?” Terry questioned as he pulled his hoodie up, then over his head to deposit it on the back of the nearby desk chair. “We only have an hour or so before we need to head out.” 

“I think we can settle this pretty quick. Don’t you?” 

“Depends. I got a lot to say.”

They watched each other step out of their shirts, socks, and pants, still pretending that some relationship chat was on the other side of their time together. 

Down to thin layers of underwear and insatiable desire, they met for skin-to-skin contact. Patrice set a pace that only Terry could match. Frantic hands gripped broad shoulders to hike one long leg around his waist. Heavy hands found a home beneath round ass for a full sensory experience. 

Patrice pulled away from a messy kiss for a deep enough breath to bark instructions at her phone for a 15-minute timer. The race was on. Friction would either bring a resolution or be why they found common ground. 

Words were hard to come by during a hungry heavy-petting period. Shared breaths and wandering hands communicated every need, peeling away the last barriers that kept them separated. Touch me like this. Kiss me there. I need you here. 

Soon, the itchy hotel carpet pressed into the delicate skin of Patrice’s knees while she looked up at a clenched jaw and flexed abs. She wanted to feel him grow to all of his glory inside her mouth, and he was happy to oblige her request. A fist full of knotless braids kept Terry feeling like he had control of the situation, though they both knew the truth. 

Gagging and gawking provided a filthy auditory masterpiece that he hoped to remember for as long as he lived. Curses meant as praise fueled her performance as she pressed crescent moons into his thighs to remain stable. Her lash extensions drooped under the weight of alligator tears. Her jaw ached from being stretched to capacity over and over. Her thighs burned from her kneeling position. None of the discomforts could deter her from the goal. 

Terry gently placed a warm palm on Patrice’s cheek, admiring her work with a hazy smile. “Missed me, huh?” he breathed out, earning a grin. 

“Mhmmm.”

“I missed you, too. Come here.”

“Missed” was an understatement. A flat-out lie. He was just as needy, just as excited to be inside her, just as ready to abandon demure social norms to unleash the lust and love brewing inside as she was. 

An indescribable pleasure emerged from using and being used. No holds barred. Unrestrained aside from muffled groans unleashed into crisp white pillowcases and skin slick with fresh sweat. 

Terry kept Patrice’s chest pressed into the bed with one hand splayed between her shoulder blades and the other tangled at her roots. She fisted the sheets to keep a grip on the bed and reality while her eyes went in and out of focus. An open mouth produced choked squeaks between sharp breaths. She listened to her name roll from her lover’s lips like a sonnet written just for her. 

He was close. His body tensed with every stroke. Sweet talk broke into throaty groans. Hips lost their rhythm as they sought deeper connection. It was a good angle, but Patrice knew it could be better. It had to get better. This had to be worth it. Who knew when they’d have the chance to fuck each other senseless in the city they made their first commitment to rekindle an almost forgotten flame?

“Let me see you,” Patrice moaned, her head turned just enough to get Terry’s attention. “Please. I wanna see your face.” 

Exhausted limbs shifted and reconnected at the head of the bed, dragging linens along with them. Patrice propped her body on one elbow to shorten the distance between their faces before pulling Terry into a kiss by the back of his head. He was equally tender and possessive, leading with full lips and a tongue eager to taste the remnants of juice and syrup left inside her mouth. 

Then came fingers. Patrice replaced her swollen lips with her middle and ring digits in search of lubrication for other pursuits. The dull ache between her legs needed concentrated attention to reach the promised land. Terry didn’t need further direction. He did as he was told with a gaze just playful enough to convey that he knew what was up. He couldn’t wait to witness what she had in store. 

Their foreheads pressed together as they focused on the slow, lazy circles Patrice drew on her pearl. Terry added his contribution according to her pace, drawing in and out so dazed that he wouldn’t have been able to repeat his name if prompted. 

His brow furrowed to match his effort. “Fuckin’ beautiful.” 

He meant his compliment for his wife though he spoke the words to the body responsible for his glee in the moment. She giggled and threw her head back like a cowgirl to enjoy the ride.

Terry readjusted his angle to chase her lips as a familiar tingle set in. His arms hooked one leg at the bend of her knee before pressing forward on one hand for leverage to drive faster. Harder. 

They were close again, each chasing an individual high harder and faster than before. 

Patrice tried to play innocent as her sultry voice egged him on with seemingly innocuous statements. “You’re so good to me, baby. What did I do to deserve you, hm?”

He tried to slow down, tried to prolong the moment despite his hips driving forward with more and more power. Patrice licked and kissed the shell of his ear to egg him on. 

“Don’t hold back, Terrence. I’m all yours.”

A whimper escaped past his lips before a simple concession speech. “Oh…fuck.”

An unraveling. Muffling broken words against lips curled into a triumphant smile, Terry came undone with his eyes clamped shut to see colors dance behind closed lids. Her orgasm crashing in wasn’t enough for Patrice to break eye contact. She stared back the entire time, mouth opened and eyes transfixed in a devious stare under low eyelids. She didn’t want to miss a moment of his chest heaving, arms tensing, and hips bucking to deliver her the perfect body high she could get without drugs. Earth-shattering, thigh-quaking releases had their place, no doubt. They could never replace the sensation of falling more in love with every electric shockwave brought forth by the love of her life. 

Terry floated back into reality feeling lightheaded, stress-free, and searching for sweet kisses to cap off filthy deeds. 

“Baby, you’re a real pain in my ass, you know that?” he joked before pressing three quick pecks to Patrice’s lips. “Spoiled and gorgeous.”

She giggled along with him. “If that’s true, why haven’t I been able to get rid of you yet.”

“Because I like you like that. You think I do all this for you to be normal?” 

Light laughter and yet another round of theme song guitar synths rang out as they disconnected and found rest cuddled atop crumpled sheets. Patrice shifted to place her chest on top of Terry’s and traced her index finger along his beautiful cheekbones. 

“We’re playing with fire, TJ. I know you got the notification about this week being risky.”

“Don’t act like I was the one throwing a tantrum this morning.” 

“A tantrum is strong, okay! A tiny meltdown, maybe.” The sudden ring of her long-forgotten alarm cut their laughter short and drew attention to the nightstand. “Right on time.” Patrice stretched across Terry to handle the distraction, drawing his physical attention as he caressed and dropped kisses along her hip. She came back to him and kissed both of his lips separately. “Sorry for being a bitch. I’m working on it.”

“Ask for what you want next time. It’s yours. I’m yours,” He answered as he pushed a few stray braids over her shoulder.

“Use my words?” 

“Use your words.”

“I need more kisses. Or I'll melt. You wouldn't let me melt, right?”

Amorous feelings were back on the rise as they shared a slow, relaxed kiss unfit for two people on a tight schedule. 

Patrice pulled a way first to nuzzle her nose against Terry’s. “D’you wanna shower with me? It’s okay if you don’t. I just…need to spend a little more time together.”

She was bashful, almost refusing to look him in the face as if asking him to bathe together was somehow more revealing than what they’d just shared. 

“Not too hot on the water, alright?”

“Yes, sir.”

Terry chuckled as another kiss and loose instructions sent Patrice on her way with a giddy hop in her step. He listened to her make arrangements in the bathroom while he made the room more like somewhere to sleep and not ground zero of a natural disaster. 

He placed clothes in neat stacks, straightened items that took a tumble in the heat of the moment and piled dirty sheets in the middle of their bed. When all was complete, he took a seat to contact the front desk. 

“Hey, could we get some fresh sheets later today? Room 335.” Patrice calling for him from the shower made him smile against the receiver. “Sure, extra towels too. Yes ma’am. I appreciate it.” 

Thank God for housekeeping. In one hour the room would return to pristine condition for another romp or relaxation. A night of good food and better drinks would decide their fate for them.

-------

TAGS: @planetblaque @wvsspoppin @thatone-girly @avoidthings @slutsareteacherstoo @eilujion @amyhennessyhouse @yaachtynoboat711 @jenlovey @pinkpantheris @blowmymbackout @onherereading @hrlzy @becauseimswagman1 @thiccc-c @urfavblackbimbo @blackburnbook @ashanti-notthesinger @xo-goldengirl @ariiijestertheklown @blyffe @tvchi @wabi-sabi1090 @blackmoonchilee

[heeseungiez]

» XO, Miss Decelis

pairings! rich kids!hyung line x fem!reader, choi yeonjun x fem!reader briefly synopsis! perfection used to be all you strove for, keeping everything that didn't fit the image a secret from the world, but an accident that nearly took your life made you reconsider what kind of person you truly wanted to be... warnings! smut (mdni! 18+), mentions of bullying, joking about past trauma to cope, angst, jealousy etc. (warnings will be added) taglist! closed a/n! never thought i'd be back to writing fanfic on tumblr but here we are... i guess even 6 years later, i'm still the same person i was when i was 15... just btw, the pairings can change as i write more since right now, i have only officially written the first sooo... don't take it for granted

RESOLUTION 1: actually enjoy a party... (Lee Heeseung x Reader)

synopsis! lee heeseung has known you your whole life. he has always kept you at an arm’s length due to his childhood pettiness after being forced to spend time with you as kids. but now that you were back in town, going to school again, he finds his resolve to dislike you at all costs crumbling between his fingers. as if it hadn’t always been chipping away throughout the years.

word count! 5.4k

read here!

RESOLUTION 2: not be a virgin anymore... (Sim Jake x Reader)

synopsis! sim jake has always liked you, but as heeseung’s best friend, he felt weird trying to talk to you. now, with the rules around you loosening, jake refuses to miss his chance to win you over.

word count! 8.4k

read here!

RESOLUTION 3: become popular at school (Park Jay x Reader)

synopsis! park jay always thought of you as the annoying little miss perfect who could do no wrong in the eyes of his, yours and heeseung’s parents. he wasn’t fond of you in the slightest for that very reason. but when you dropped the act after your perfect image had shattered in front of everyone, he can’t help but feel drawn to you. when he discovers another one of your secrets, he thinks he might truly have to ruin you for the whole world to know how far from perfect you truly are.

word count! 12k

read here!

RESOLUTION 4: maybe get a boyfriend? (Park Sunghoon x Reader)

synopsis! park sunghoon always preferred admiring you from afar. because to him, you were untouchable. as the daughter of his career’s biggest sponsor, he was scared that the smallest slight upon your person could make your father withdraw. but you were not the fragile pretty flower sunghoon thought you to be. it was only his luck that you ran right into his arms when you didn’t know what to do about the rest of his friends.

word count! 15k

read here!

Good morning, Decelis! Guess who’s back?

And no, I’m not talking about myself at the moment, but rather, a princess of a successful empire, and our beloved black sheep of the school. It’s quite ironic, isn’t it? In a place where money is power, she has none despite the billions she’s meant to inherit. Poor girl, wouldn’t you say?

But rumours have it that our princess is back from her prolonged summer break abroad, and she’s different than we remember.

It seems that the good girl image has been thrown to the wolves, and the princess is back with a bite of her own.

I’m most definitely looking forward to what this year brings us.

XO, Miss Decelis

[wyrmarchives]

Main | Navigation | COD Writing | Send a Request

Okay but…

Captain John Price with a breeding kink this, Captain John Price with a breeding kink that.

What about his wife? What if his wife is the one who has the obsession?

‘Captain’ John Price

Triggers: Age gap(unspecified), breeding kink, manipulation, baby trapping(if you squint?), Slight NSFW (literally 2 sentences)

Captain John Price, age 37, who has never wanted a child in his life, never cared about getting into a relationship. The SAS is his whole focus. The Coalition is his career and purpose. His whole life is sacrifice and hardship; then he meets a younger woman who spins his world on head.

You and John married after a year together. He didn’t need more than a few months to know he wanted to put a ring on your finger, but figured he should take it slow. Do things right; slow, with poise and charm. Be a gentleman. The two of you agreed that no children would come of your relationship- despite him knowing your kinks. He’s busy; often deployed. “Wouldn’t be fair to you or the kid, love.”

That doesn’t stop you though. Soft, silky, smooth words, spilling over your tongue after your honeymoon of how frequent he’s gone; how you need someone there for you, how you don’t wanna be lonely. “One baby won’t be so hard to take care of by myself when you’re gone, John.” That pregnancy test pops up positive very soon after; and John does his best to be there for you throughout the pregnancy, and job be damned, he’s there for the labor. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world, dove.”

Hormones are no joke though, fuck the doctor’s words, your baby needs a friend to grow up with, right? Smoothing John’s concerns over about his long deployments, “How hard could it be? One is easy enough. Thought you liked being a daddy?” You end up with Irish twins.

To John’s credit, he really did try to hold out for that third one. You mentioned going to the doctor to talk about birth control and John trusting his loving sweet wife, didn’t think she was capable of manipulation. He should’ve known better. You’re just as bad as him. That third pregnancy test pops up and he asks you “I thought you were on birth control?“ To which you reply “I decided against it I didn’t want to deal with the hormones while breast-feeding“.

With three under three, John made sure that you got on birth control. It lasts for about a year and then he decides that he wants a child this time; but he also wants to punish you for the last. To remind you of your manipulation- which he thinks was petty. If you really wanted a child that badly, love, you could’ve just taken it from him. So, he swaps your pills with sugar pills. Wants it to be a surprise to you whenever you end up carrying his fourth… That is until he catches you tossing a pill into the trash one morning.

“It’s not fair, dove.” He coos; his hand pressing your head into the sheets, the other grasping your hip tightly. Tilting your hip and arching your back almost impossibly as you moan and keen under him. “This one was supposed to be mine.” That’s when you know you’ve been caught.

The fourth is a year younger than their brothers, and his little girl. Captain John Price, a hardened man who, when he saw his little girl’s blue eyes decided it was time to retire.

His fifth was a total mistake. Both of you had decided that with a full house, you didn’t need anymore.

“It wasn’t me this time, I swear, John…”

“Me either, love…”

“…We need a bigger house…”

That’s just his luck.

Tag list: @wickizer

Thank you for the support! ❤️

[mellori]

Hey so was ascrolling the locked tomb tag and saw a thing.

Everybody knows the list of reasons Kiriona's a big sad gay b-word when she shows up in Nona the Ninth. We've got:

• Hey so I just woke up in the corpse of my crush who sure seemed like she reciprocated my confession of love right up until she rejected my mortal sacrifice and decided she never wanted to think about me ever again

• My dead mom doesn't love me, actually, she passionately hated me and found the experience of having me both completely repugnant and horribly inconvenient

• The one thing I thought she'd given me across the veil of death i.e. my name - that was petty revenge against the guy who killed her and has nothing to do with me

• The name she did bother to give me was a not particularly funny joke about her plan to kill me immediately after my birth

• Also she's fr dead now I don't get to confront her about/unpack any of this

• Whoops I'm dead again. Totally speedran "fail my sworn oath to protect Harrowhark" this time let's relive that particular trauma

• Back again sorta and now my body is a horrific mockery of humanity meant to protect and preserve me forever because my Dad definitely asked before he did this

• Dad gave me everything I ever told myself that I wanted so now I can never earn any of it and all of it sucks actually, thanks pops

• Also he's currently in a depression spiral because his polycule imploded with a bunch of attempted and/or successful murders

• Also he's 10,000 years old and completely incapable of relating to me in any way

• Sudden onset proximity to power and influence means I can never trust anybody genuinely wants to be my friend and/or is actually attracted to me and not just sucking up to the new crown prince and heir

• Ianthe

I've read or listened to these books at least five times each and totally missed:

• Dad sure is famous for being the only person capable of performing a ressurection and he hasn't bothered to do that to me

[j0hnj4ej3n]

nct dream's reaction to you ignoring them after an argument

word count: 1.4k 

warnings: slight angst but they mostly end with fluff heh, mentions of food, let me know if i missed out anything

notes: hii loveys! here’s a short post for the month of February <3 i know i said i’ll try to post monthly this year but i’ll be really busy from here on, mostly because of school but i will be working on a Jaemin AU really soon! that will probably be my next post, which i will try to get out by the end of April or early May! until then, please be well everyone, sending all my love <3

𔘓Mark:

He’s been trying to talk to you after the argument you two had last night, but he’s only been met with cold replies. You’ve also been keeping to yourself all day, clearly still dwelling over the argument last night. Mark hates this. He hates that you’re both not being able to be comfortable around each other. He wonders if you’re still mad at him, so he asks you the next time you walk out to the living room. “No…” you say quickly, before retreating back into your shared bedroom. Mark follows closely behind you, “Why have you been avoiding me, then? I thought we talked it out already, if you’re still upset just tell me.” “We did talk it out, and we’re past that argument. But I still need some time to myself… that’s all. I didn’t mean to avoid you intentionally, I’m sorry.” You tell him as you still can’t get over the emotions from last night. Mark comes to sit beside you on the bed, patting your head twice, “You should have just told me that, babe. I’ll give you as much space as you need, just know I’m still always going to be there for you.”

𔘓Renjun:

Renjun knows you’re doing this on purpose. He’s asked you the same question twice, and you are basically refusing to answer him out of spite. The argument is still fresh in both your minds and Renjun is trying to get over it by offering to go get take-out for you both. But since your petty ass is ignoring him on purpose, he wants to be petty right back. “I’m asking you one more time baby, do you want me to get you anything for dinner? I’m about to leave.” Silence. “Fine, I’m leaving.” Renjun storms out of your shared apartment, almost slamming the front door behind him. He doesn’t understand why you’re ignoring him after the two of you already talked it out. You always do this and he doesn’t get it. He’s frowning the whole way to the restaurant but when he leaves, he carries a plastic bag containing food for two.

𔘓Jeno:

“Baby… won’t you talk to me?” Jeno is not new to this treatment from you. Everytime the two of you argue, he’s met with the cold shoulder. It’s like he suddenly doesn’t exist, even if he’s standing right in front of you. You’re just avoidant, and you promise you’re trying to be more communicative but it’s still a work in progress. Jeno has an evident pout on his face, it genuinely makes him sad when you do this. He sighs at your silence, “Okay, I’ll leave you be… I’ll be in the room if you need anything okay? I love you.” Your heart flutters and you try not to show it, you hear Jeno shuffle into your room and the door closes behind him. You can’t ever stay mad at Jeno for long, and this sounds ridiculous but you miss him already. You’re still feeling a little upset and you don’t have anything to say but you just miss being close to him. So you drag your feet towards your shared bedroom, opening the door and walking to where Jeno is on his gaming chair, wordlessly. He quickly turns around, eyes wide and about to ask if you need anything. But before he gets to open his mouth, you crawl onto his lap and drape yourself over him. You can hear Jeno chuckle to himself and feel how quickly he wraps his arms around your torso. He knows well enough that this means you’re okay, maybe still a little bothered but you just want to be near him. And he allows it, so he only pulls you closer because Jeno would choose this over you ignoring him any day.

𔘓Haechan:

“Are you really ignoring me right now?” Haechan stands in front of you with his hands on his hips, blocking your view of the TV. “Hey! I’m talking to you!” He says as he waves his hand frantically in front of your face. You only glare up at him and swat his arm away. “You’re so childish…” “You’re childish.” “Oh? So you respond now…” You just cross your arms and nudge Haechan aside with your feet. You honestly don’t even know what show is on right now, you just need the white noise to drain out your anger. “If you’re still upset about something, just tell me. How am I supposed to read your mind, baby?” “Okay, fine. I’m upset with you.” Haechan sits beside you now. “Okay, that’s obvious… May I know why?” “No.” “Baby.” “I’m not calm enough right now to tell you.” You let out a breath, it comes out like a huff. “Do you always look this cute when you’re angry?” You give Haechan the nastiest side-eye and he just giggles. “What? You’re just so cute.” He says as he reaches out to pinch your cheeks. “Stop it!” Haechan only laughs. “Sorry, sorry…” He replies trying to hide his chuckle behind his hand.

𔘓Jaemin:

This doesn’t happen often, at all. Jaemin and you have been rather calm every time you’re met with a disagreement. But this escalated really quickly and caught both of you off guard. You two ended up arguing over something so silly, saying unkind things in the heat of the moment, and worse still, in public. You got so emotional about it, so quickly. And you feel like you’re being dramatic when you begin to walk away from Jaemin to cool down. He’s calling out for you immediately. He catches up quickly, reaching down to try and hold your hand. But you wrestle to get your hand out of his grasp. “Honey, please… just listen.” But you cross your arms so Jaemin can’t get a hold of your hands and starts to walk more briskly. You don’t look at him, don’t say a word. You hang your head low, staring only at the ground as you keep walking wherever your legs take you. Jaemin isn’t beside you anymore but you can hear him trailing just behind you. He watches your small figure in front of him. He knows you just need time to calm down and he lets you be, staying close until you’re ready to face him again. After another 10 minutes of walking to god knows where, you stop in your tracks and Jaemin walks to stand in front of you. “Are you feeling a little better now?” You nod, now a little embarrassed at the act you pulled. “I’m sorry…” you mumble out and Jaemin only hugs you, “I’m sorry too.”

𔘓Chenle:

“Look at this, it’s so funny…” Chenle shoves his phone in front of you, laughing at the tiktok that’s playing. When you don’t respond, Chenle’s stops laughing and his attention shifts completely to you. You’ve been ignoring him for about 2 hours now, unbeknownst to him. “Hm? Is it not funny? You usually like this stuff.” Chenle mumbles to himself, pulling his phone back in front of him. He’s so oblivious sometimes you want to scream at him. A few minutes later, he’s cackling at his phone and shoving it in front of you again. But this time you nudge his arm away, and Chenle slowly stops laughing. “What’s wrong with you?” And instead of replying to him, you turn, facing away from him. “You’re ignoring me?? Fine, I can do it too!” Chenle says before he turns away from you, curling into himself on the sofa as he huffs.

𔘓Jisung:

Jisung is honestly freaking out. You’re not talking to him and he knows it’s because you’re still upset. It’s a mess in his mind, do you hate him now? Are you going to break up with him? He has no idea what to do. “B-baby, I’m really sorry…” He tells you again as he pokes your shoulder to try and get your attention. Honestly, you’re not that upset anymore, it’s just that the argument just ended. It’s awkward to just pretend like nothing happened and go back to normal, just like that. “It’s okay…” And you don’t say anything else other than that. The silence is deafening, it’s literally eating away at the both of you. You hear Jisung gulp before he speaks again, “You’re not going to break up with me, are you?” You frown. “Why would I do that?” “You haven’t said anything… It's worrying me.” You shake your head, a small smile forming subconsciously. “I just need some time to get over it completely, I won’t break up with you over something like that, silly.”

[cemeteryvalentine]

astro observations part 4 !!! ^____^

(specifically based off my family :3 pleaseee don't get offended at anything that doesn't resonate)

🗝️: one thing about a sag placement, they are gonna hang up FIRST !!! i swear, if anyone misses flip phones, it's a sag placement/dominant. i just know they miss snapping that phone shut in a petty manner LOL. my mom is a sag moon AND rising, and she'd call me and demand me to do something in such a bitchy tone and then hang up on me like girl who tf do u think u areee 😭😭😭😭 LMFAO. but honestly good for her, i love being petty like her.

like i swear i take after my mom because everytime she does that annoying hang up before i can respond thing, i call her again just to say a snarky remark, and hang up on her back!

🐇: i swear, virgo placements have no problem being the grossest people alive, but suddenly it's a problem when someone else does it :/// it's really annoying. my brother has a pigsty of a bedroom, doesn't wash his hand when he pisses unless i make him, and leaves his trash everywhere, but constantly gets on my sister for the same things 😭. like the calls coming from inside the house !!! i think basically, (some) virgos are like picky(?) with what areas they'd want clean. like they're only really comfortable with THEIR mess and no one else's.

🗝️: i love how pisces mercury communicate because it's like what the hel are u awn about 😭 in the NICEST way though :3 they're so kewl and interesting to talk to, plus they're so nice and understanding. maybe because they're water mercuries after all. speaking of, my favorite artist ever kurt cobain was a pisces mercury and it SHOWSSS. a lot of nirvana lyrics feel artistic and metaphoric, or just realllyyyy silly. liiike "angel left wing, right wing, broken wing. lack of iron and or sleeping" from milk it, one of my nirvana faves. and "i vomit C*M and DIARRHEA". like girl whatever that means !!!! (song, mexican seafood)

🐇: mars influence on the asc makes for prominent features. especially eyebrows. my brother has an aries rising and he has such a bad case of RBF. i swear he never looks happy 😭 his virgo sun and cap moon definitely don't help at all either. then im a mars rising and i have big eyebrows like my brother. like we're the only ones with big eyebrows, while our parents brows look invisible LOL. also i'm a virgo rising !! and ppl are always saying i look mad which honestly pisses me off :P so in conclusion, mars influence + virgo placements = major rbf

🗝️: i HATE to add on to the cancer hate train since i'm one myself and i loveee being one + we get soo much hate, but i feel a (unevolvled) cancer makes for the worst pick me girl ever !!!! this def doesn't apply to all cancers, but the few cancer women i know can be so mean to other women so unprovoked. especially my mom, it gives me the ick when she calls random women b*tches or makes fun of them to me for their features or success or soemthing. i used to be a pick me too up until i was like 13 (im soooo happy i grew out of that mess QUICK!). i would constantly strive for male attention, it was embarrassing 😭. ik another girl who values her shitty boyfriend over her (girl) friends and i haaate it. like ive only known a few cancer women, but a lot of them are like the meanest pick me bitch ever, or such a sweeet, caring soul :). i feel like being a pick me stems from cancers being feminine AND traditional. yk? i pray i make sense, but yk how it's traditional for girls to be perfect for her man, and value him no matter the circumstance ?? and cancer/moon being **traditional** ? yeahhh 😭

anywayzzz that's all :3 tyyy for reading !! i had sm making a new observations, considering it's been a year since my last LMFAOO. and again, if it doesn't apply, let it fly. ty bye ^__^

[captainkirkk]

✩ WEEKLY FIC ROUND-UP ✩

All the fics I’ve read and really enjoyed in the past week-ish. Reminder: This list features any and all ratings and themes. Please look at tags and warnings on ao3 before reading.

The Nine Worlds series (Hands of the Emperor)

nothing less than the world by ariex09

At least there wasn’t an audience for the look Ludvic turned on Kip and the too neutral way he said, “Tor?”

Kip could feel himself flushing - in Astandalas this was the kind of thing that had lost him jobs before - but he had the excuse of, first of all, amnesia, and second of all, “He didn’t give me any other name!” Kip hissed. “He deflected me off the topic twice!”

-

AU where the landslide at the Liauu happens several years earlier, and the younger Kip has a rather different experience of the future.

diving for a flame pearl by ariex09

It took me an appalling three hours and thirteen minutes to even realize that Kip was gone.

Ah, but that was too charitable. Once we had a timeline together, we discovered that Franzel had seen Kip last, turning in for bed at twelve minutes before midnight, and it was not until Shoänie went to wake him at dawn that anyone knew he was anything but asleep in bed. This meant that by the time the knock on my study door came, shortly past the third hour of the morning, Kip could already have been missing for more than nine hours.

-

In which Cliopher goes missing midway through The Hands of the Emperor. Fortunately, he has friends and family willing to do whatever it takes to bring him home.

A nap at the feet of the sun by SunInGlory

Prompt: Cliopher somehow falls asleep on HR’s robe, and rather than wake him, HR has one of the guards cut that part of the robe off of him. Just looking for something soft and sweet here, but of course go in whichever direction you’d like. Bonus points if Petty Treasons era.

---

Cliopher decides to take a nap. Okay, perhaps decides is too strong of a word.

Stranger Things

Robin's Guide to the Care and Feeding of Your Newly Adopted Former Mean Girl by formosus_iniquis

She extends a hand, ignoring the laugh it gets her, “Welcome to Hawkins, I’m Robin, occasional Dustin babysitter.”

The girl’s smile pulls lopsided at her mouth, kissed with a bit of irony and undeniably charmed. “It’s nice to meet you Robin,” her voice is soft, and a little unsure. Wavering like Becky Simpson’s tone deaf oboe playing, unsure of what pitch and timbre to land on. “I’m Stephanie Henderson, Dustin’s cousin.”

The bit crumbles immediately between Robin’s fingers.

“Stephanie? You went with Stephanie? Are you kidding? We workshopped so many names!”

Marvel

Three Kinds of Learning by luchia

Erik intends to recruit Raven's supposedly amazing, all-powerful older brother. Instead, he finds himself dealing with Charles Xavier, a weak, tweed-addled professor who seems to think powers don't matter nearly as much as personality. Erik's misconceptions are blown apart when Raven goes missing.

SVSSS

In Durance Veil by Mikkeneko (+ podfic)

Right, the villain's beautiful daughter, who had caught a glimpse of the Protagonist from afar and, naturally, fell madly in love at first sight. She'd used her knowledge of her father's lair to sneak into the dungeon where Luo Binghe was being held and eventually proved the key to his escape, betraying her father for love. "So, you want to try to find some random girl who's willing to sneak in past the guards to Luo Binghe's prison and..."

"What random girl could we possibly trust? I'll do it myself!"

"You know what," Shang Qinghua said. "Somehow I feel like I should have expected this."

---

Shen Qingqiu self-detonated at Hua Yue City, but he didn't die. Instead, he wakes up to a world where Cang Qiong is victorious and Luo Binghe has been imprisoned beneath the mountain. What's a poor transmigrator to do? He has to find a way to free the Protagonist before he breaks out and razes the Sect to the ground! Clearly, the best way to do this is to pretend to be one of Luo Binghe's future wives.

Clearly.

Harry Potter

A Place That Fits by BitchesLoveAngstImBitches

Harry had been prepared to save Sirius’ life, no matter what the cost. Harry put himself in danger, and Sirius had come running, and it was the last thing he ever did.

And then it turned out Harry’s life wasn’t even worth saving: Neither can live while the other survives.

At the rate of Voldemort’s rising power, Harry would be lucky to survive the year.

Sirius had died trying to help Harry. He’d died for nothing.

-

Harry is struggling in the aftermath of the Ministry battle to come to terms with Sirius' death. His isolation and mistreatment at Privet Drive only make things worse. Remus Lupin checks on him in Surrey, but with both of them grieving, his assumptions about Harry might only hurt him more.

[dollyluvss]

[[ “ where are you..? “ ]]

♱ a lovely friendship. started out playing at the park as children, your best friend leaves you while he pursues his soccer career. but when he returns..? { mean!kunigami rensuke x afab!reader! }

warnings. . .

angst angst and more angst, hate fucking, mouthy/bratty reader (sorta self indulgent-) choking, mentions of self harm - substance abuse/pure pressure - and bullying - reader over thinks.

biting, pussy slapping, just filth.. throat fucking, dom/sub dynamics, slut shaming, LOADSSSS OF DIRTY TALK, creampie(s), throat fingering(? idk why to call it..), hair pulling, headlocks,impact play/spanking/slapping, kunigami and reader have potty mouths :p, superrrrr mean!kunigami :<, slight dub-con at the begining of the smut scene, size kink if you can see, arguing, manhandling..brr.. you have been warned!

—————————————————————————————————————

it had been almost a year since you last saw your best friend. he was always with you before he left, you, his family, and soccer is all he cares about really. you two were close, very close. always joking around, teasing each other and backing each other up when it comes to anyone who disagrees. you always were sassy as a kid, that sass turned into a full blown attitude as you reached your teen years, cussing out anyone who pissed you off or even looked at you sideways. kunigami, being fairly level headed, was always there to, quite literally, hold you back from pouncing on the next sorry person to face your anger.

you and kunigami bickered from time to time, becoming full on arguments as you grew older. they never lasted long really, you barking at him into backing down. he never liked to argue with you, neither did you, but sometimes you two pushed one another’s buttons a bit to much.

————————————————————————

“oh shut up, ren!” i groan, growing more irritated as seconds passed. a stupid, very petty, argument over how loud his music was, it woke you up. and not in a good mood at that.

“im allowed to play music, ___.its my house, i can do what i like!” he argued back, voice raised but not as much as yours.

“shut it the fuck off! use headphones you dickhead!” i growled, lip turned up in a nasty scowl. rensuke sighs, rubbing a hand down his face. stress marks on his forehead. “alright fine, m’sorry kid..” he mummbles, ruffling you head and bringing you to his chest in a soft hug, a genuine apology.

“whatever..” i grumble into his chest, hugging his waist. “just had a long week, wanted to have a good nap ya’know?” i mumble in his chest. he laughs, patting my head.

————————————————————————

god you miss him, miss the bickering, cuddles during movie nights, sneaking out of his parents house to the beach to have fun in the water.

sigh..come back soon ren.. i think to myself, chin resting in my hands as i stare tiredly at my laptop.

buzz buzz!

i glance at my phone, i gasp, jumping back in my chair as i grab my phone, bag and put on my shoes. rushing out the door to my car as i make my way out to kunigami’s house.

ren’s momma:3 : rensuke came home a few days ago! he’s home watching the house while im on vacation, go stop by and say hi sweetie!

i smile at he text, she was such a lovely woman. always helping you when your own mother couldnt.

i speed over to his house, pulling into the driveway as i race out of my car and run up to the door. i unlock it with my spare key, removing my shoes as i head downstairs to the basement. i walk down the stairs, a familiar living room, small work out coroner to the left, a kitchen, bathroom and washroom, his room in the far back of the basement. i take quiet careful steps towards his room, i push past the curtain to his room, his sent filling my nose as i lock my eyes on him.

“..hi- ren..” i say, i cant believe hes back, its been so, so long. i walk over to his side as he looks up at me.

budump. badump.

my heart beat rings in my ears as he looks up at me. his eyes are, cold. his stare is harsh, shooting daggers at you even.

what the fuck happened? did he join the military and quit soccer? i think to myself.

“so much for a warnin’..” he grumbles, voice almost hoars. a far cry from his calm, sweet voice that almost dripped with honey when he spoke soft enough.

“i-i..” i stutter, shocked at his change in demeanor and appearance. my mouth agape, mind flooded with questions.

“you just gonna stand there..” he says, more of a annoyed response than a question. he stands up, towering over you. fuck..was he always this big? i shake away the thought, looking up at him as i place my bag down next to him doorframe. i whisper “how are you..?” im feeling, uneasy..his whole vibe is just— off.

“fine.” he grumbles, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. he looks almost unsure, like your a complete stranger.

“u-um..can i have a hug?” i stutter, the tension in the air is almost suffocating me. he glances down at me and my heart drops.

disgust, like a dirty dog jumping all over him.

“ive got better things to do, no.” he says stern and cold lacing his voice, hes looking at me like a pest.

“oh- uh. okay? damn..” i grumble back, a pout forming on my lips at his harsh rejection. “what crawled up your ass?” i reply, pout turning into a almost scowl now as i eye him up and down when he walks past me. stopping after those words leave my lips.

“buzz off, ____. im busy, cant bother with your bitchy attitude today..” he almost growls, like you mean nothing to him.

“excuse me?” it comes out before i realize it, mh words laced with venom. my scowl now a nasty snarl as i turn to face him.

he turns his head to look at me, glaring at me like i just said something extremely disrespectful.

“whats your fuckin’ problem?” i growl, stepping closer to him, getting in his space much to his disliking.

“watch yer mouth.” he says sternly, turning to face me, he looks down at me with hate in his eyes. i cant stop the shiver it sent up my spine. i swallow the lump forming in my throat and glare back.

“or what? whats your fuckin’ issue? i dont see or hear from you in a year and you come back all tight and shit? fuck happened to “hi ___! i missed you how are you?” huh?” i throw my hands up, voice getting louder as the seconds past. my emotions taking full control at the sight of whats now left of my best friend.

“so damn mouthy..cant say anythin’ to you without you gettin’ bitchy can you?” he barks back, voice still low and deep but the bass almost shakes me off my feet.

“oh! look who finally grew some fuckin’ balls! guess they kicked your ass around in there huh?” i say, a sly, almost devilish, grin appearing on my face. basically poking a angry bear with a stick.

he growls, “watch yourself..im not fuckin’ around ____..” vemon starts lacing his words just as much, if not more, than you.

“i just want to see my best friend, is that so bad? you couldnt have even TRIED to call me? you call your mother and sisters but not me? i though i was special to you?” i scoff, i understand he worked hard at blue lock. i mean, its quite literally all over his face— but he couldnt even relay a message back to me? not once for the 11 months he was there? my eyes feel sore as they gloss over. fuck..no relax, keep it together ____ . i think to myself.

“well? what happened to all those promises? that youd call me if it ended up being something long term, if you could get your hands on a phone?” i day, voice cracking slowly as my resolve to ‘keep it together’ .

“i dont have time to listen to your bitchin’..so fuckin noisy..didnt wanna hear you bitch ‘n moan over the phone or in person.” he spat back. that does it. the frog jumping from my throat as i double over myself in a sob. unable to stop once i start, i rub my eyes as i start breathing harder, hiccuping every so often.

had he always felt like this? did all i really do is ‘bitch ‘n moan’ to him? what about my other friends? my family, teachers? his mom, or sisters? you always did have quite the talent for annoying people ever since you were small. being left out or subtly teased in ‘friend’ groups, being dared to leave at sleep overs and partys. you tried cigs, weed and alcohol to try and seem cool to your peers. trying to push the thoughts of self harming in any way you could think of as you down two more shots, head feeling like cotton as your ‘friends’ all pack into their car and drive off. leaving you absolutely stranded and alone a hour from home.

you dont know when you feel to the ground but your on your knees, right hand on the carpet of his floor while your left grips your shirt on your chest as you breath faster and faster. mind racing fast at how to calm down, trying to focus on anything but the loud negative thoughts clouding your head. ears ringing loud starts dying back, your eyes are focused back in, breathing jagged but stable as you start counting up. soon you let out a shakey breath before looking up at kunigami. your eyes widen in shock when you see him looking down at you with such hatred.

“your so pathetic. get the fuck up.” he barks, not a single ounce of remorse for his so called ‘best friend.’

i get up, knees shakey as i stumble. i look up at him and glare. “your bein’ a fuckin’ cunt right now kunigami.” his family name spilling from my lips like hot lava.

his face scrunches slightly at the sound of his family name coming from you mouth, something you never called him. “watch yer mouth, brat.” he growls.

“bite me, ren!” i snap back, my minds blank of how we ended up back to arguing but i continue to curse at him, ‘bitch’ and ‘pussy’ leave my mouth multiple times as i grill into him, walking closer to him, my hands shoving him backwards towards the wall….is what you swore just happened. your back and head are pounding as you feel the wall behind you and big strong hands holding yours next to your head in a painful grip, sharp, mean eyes staring at you like prey..

“shut up.” he spits, literally. he spit in your face. you flitch back at this, yelling as i trash in his grip. “let me go..! ren let me go!” i bark , trying to wiggle out of his grip.

“shut..up!” he yells back, pulling me forward before slamming me back against the wall. i yelp and stare at him wide eyed. a pathetic whimper leaving my throat as he moves closer to my face.

“watch that smart mouth of yours..or i teach you how to shut the fuck up..” he growls against my ear, body now flush against my chest. i can feel his heart beat..

“g-get the— fuck off me..!” i groan, once again squirming as his grip on my wrist tighten. he presses his body harder against mine, preventing me from moving as i squeak in surprise.

“do it again, watch what i fuckin’ do to you..” he whispers, for some reason its scarier than when his voice is raised. ‘he wont do shit..’ i think.

wrong. ooh sooo wrong you were.

his hands maneuver my hands above my hands, his left hand holding them firm against the wall. his right hand you ask? shoving his two longest fingers down your throat, harshly.

i gag hard on his thick fingers, trashing around as much as i could as he starts fucking my throat with his fingers, not pulling the out more than two inches before plunging the back down my throat. i gag and choke on his fingers as i try to pull my head away. i feel my eyes start to flutter into rhe back of my head at the lack of oxygen.

“fuckin’ slut..always bitchin’ ‘bout somethin’ dumb…fuckin’— take it..” he groan in my ear, it sends a shiver down my spine as my heads pushed back more as he pushes his digests deeper.. my body starts slowly sliding down the wall, he lets go of my wrist as he pulls me fully to my knees. my hands fly to his wrist and grip it weakly, trying to pull his hand out of my throat. tears begin to fall from my eyes as he tug my head back by my hair. a loud moan coming my sore throat.

“ gag, r- gag, en— gag” i sputter out, his fingers moving faster. my eyes fully rolling back now as i feel myself going limp.

“shut it, fuckin’ whore..you wanna talk back? this is what happens when you dont fuckin’ listen..” he growled into my ear. soon he removes his fingers, i lean against his thick thigh as i gasp and cough for air. his hand lands on my head, he grips my hair and pulls my neck back to look up at him. my eyes wide at the sight of his cock, gulp, hes huge..to big— way to fuckin’ big..

“open yer mouth..” he demands, i gasp as hip tip hits my lips. he takes this as a invitation to slam himself down my throat. i gag, hard, on his cock. his hand in my hair using it as a handle to pull my head up and down his length. using my mouth to his desires.

“shit— thats right..t-take this dick..fuuuck..” he groans lowly, rolling his head back as his tip hits the back of my throat. hips bucking up in my mouth.

a lewd, gul gul gul, comes from my throat as i open my mouth to gag and cough on his cock. my hands gripping his thighs harshly. nails leaving marks in there wake as i claw his legs. i fall on my ass as he pushing my back flush against the wall as he snaps his hips in my mouth over and over. calloused hands slammed against the wall and he uses my mouth like some fleshlight.

“fuckfuckfuck— take it- take this dick- f-fuck, g-gonna cum down that f-fuckin’ nasty throat baby..” he looks down, hips snapping at a slower speed but deeper this time small ‘take it.’ ‘s leave his mouth as he reaches his high. pressing my head against his pelvis with his right hands while he leans his forehead on his left forearm. groaning- no— growling as he cums down my throat. i cough and gag as he fills my mouth, he pulls away harshly as i gasp and take big gulps as i swallow his cum. my face is covered in spit ‘n cum.

“w-what..cough, gulp, is wrong- with you..?!” i shout hoarsly, throat sore from his assault with his cock.

he dosent reply, grabing my neck as he grips it harshly. walking me backwards and turning me around before pushing me on the bed. he pulls down my shorts and underwear quickly, he spits on my cunt. rubbing two fingers up from my clit to my entrance, pushing past my walls as he starts fingering me and hard.

i put my right hand out behind me, left gripping the blankets on his bed and i try to push his hand away. but, my attemps are in vain as he pins my hands behind my back as keeps fingering me, pushing a third finger in as he speeds up. he leans his chest against me from behind, his mouth biting down on my nape. leaving a harsh teeth back as he starts biting my neck.

“fuckin’ mouthy bitch..take my fuckin’ fingers slut..fuuck..pussy fuckin’ loves it huh..” he growls against my neck. my face falling against his bed as i moan loudly. hips grinding up to match his pace as a knot forms in my stomach.

“dont you dare fuckin’ cum..beg me for it..” he groans against my ear, licking and kissing down and up my neck. im a babbling mess but i manage to say one thing.

“f-fuuuck— you..!” i squeal as i feel myself on the brink of cumming. he pulls his hand from my cunt and pulls my leg up by my knee. resting it on his bed before he starts slapping my cunt and ass over and over.

“you never learn huh? fuckin’ spoiled brat.” he growls, slapping my wet cunt one last time as hard as he could. drawing a loud moan from my throat as my body loses the tenseness it had from his spanking. he pulls away, pulling my hips flush against his cock, he pulls my hips up and down along his length a few times before slipping into my pussy with a slow, deep thrust. his left hand pulling my head back by the hair, again…sigh… “fuckin’ loud mouth bitch..ill make you fuckin’ learn to hold that ditry tongue of yours next time..” he moans, hips slamming against mine as he using my hair as a handle to push himself deeper..

“r-reennnn-suukeee!” i gasp in a high pitches moan, taking my bottom lip between my teeth as i try to hold myself up with his harsh thrust pushing me forward over and over. fuck hes strong.. i think to myself, eyes crossing as he hits my g-spot dead on. i let out a loud, high pitches moan as he hits it repeatedly.

kunigami lets out a nasally laugh before he speaks. “that yer spot slut? s-shit..tightened around me- gotta be it hm?” he leans forward, harsh grip on your hair moving to you shoulder before wrapping his muscular arm around your neck. a headlock.

he hold his wrist with his left hand to hold your neck firmly. “f-fuuuck..thats it you dirty whore..cum on my cock- t-there ya go..shit..” he growls against my ear, pulling me into a messy and rough kiss as he hips pump his cock deeper into me.

i moan in his mouth as he tightens the headlock, i pull back as he hits my spot one last time before i cum hard on his cock. but of course, his pace quickens. chasing his own high.

he lets go of my neck, letting my chest and head fall against his bed and he pulls my hips higher. practically slamming my hips against his. its to much for your poor cunt.

“g-gonna cum..fuck— such a good pussy, fuuck..!” he growls once more before pulling me flush against him as he cums deep inside me. he leans against my back as he pumps his hips slowly as he drags out his orgasam.

“..not done with you yet..still havent learned your lesson properly have you?” he snarls in my ear.

its gonna be a long night..

————————————————————————

end!

hello hi yes its been a while (almost a year—) i hope you enjoyed!! i sure as hell did!! please feel free to reblog as it is greatly appreciated! :3

- dolly..

*do not copy, translate or steal my work.*

[reiderwriter]

Hey lovely! Hope you’re doing good! I was listening to bad idea right? By Olivia Rodrigo and thought it would be a good idea for a Spencer fic, was thinking something something with a little angst, smut and possibly a fluffy ending! ♥️

Ps love your writing 🖤

A/N: Most relatable song released this year, if we're being totally honest with ourselves, right 💀 I hope you enjoy this!

Warnings: (Munch Spencer Truthers, I'm throwing yourself another bone here), Oral (f receiving), fingering, masturbation (male), slight hand job at the end, penetrative sex, cum play, etc. Minors DNI 18+

Your fling with Spencer Reid from the BAU ended abruptly when he fell off the face of the earth.

You weren't sure how someone who had described himself as technophobic had managed to perfect the art of ghosting someone, but boy had he, and you were still a little bit angry about it.

Even angrier when you saw him plastered over the local news out on a case, explaining to the people how fake tips to the FBI hindered cases more than helped them.

You were angry because he looked so good. His hair was shorter, displaying his all too pretty features prominently, and pissing you off to no end as you still felt your heart beat out of your chest until he'd disappeared into a crime scene again.

You brushed it off and berated yourself until the text came.

It wasn't much, just a quick hello, but you waited for a few minutes anyway to see if he'd say anything else.

When he didn't, you grew frustrated and text him a response.

“Who is this?”

It was petty, but four months of radio silence deserved less, in all honesty.

You weren't expecting the phone to vibrate out of your hand as you waited for a response, but it lit up with his call and you scrambled to wait enough time to pick it up.

“Hello.”

“Hi. It's Spencer. Spencer Reid. Doctor Spencer Reid, from the Behavioural Analysis Unit, this is Y/N right?”

“Yes, Spencer, it's me. My number didn't change after four months.”

“Okay, that was deserved.”

“Why are you calling Spencer?”

“Because I'm a burnt out child prodigy who didn't cure schizophrenia by age 25 and my friends missed my birthday. And because I really wanted to see you.”

The line went quiet as you contemplated what the hell you would say to that.

“It would be stupid to ask if you remembered my address, right?”

“Y/N, I remember what you taste like, and I'll never forget it.”

“Good. I'm locking the door in half an hour.” You didn't give him time to respond before exiting the call and running to your bathroom.

Maybe it wasn't the best idea entertaining a fling from months ago on a whim at 7pm on a Wednesday evening, but you had nothing else to be doing with your time.

It wasn't illegal for people to reconnect, and you were not going to mention this to any close or mutual friends of yours, so one conversation (or whatever this was) probably wouldn't have any consequences anyway.

Caution blown to the wind, you replaced your work clothes with a comfortable dress, fixed your hair and poured a glass of wine and waited.

As if on queue, 27 minutes later, Spencer was at your door. Or more accurately in your house.

Your threat to lock the doors had obviously spurred him on, and you heard the door handle twist as he stepped into the space.

“Spencer. How lovely, to what do I owe the honor?”

The adrenaline of making sure the door was unlocked had obviously worn off for him, as you saw him shift awkwardly in the doorway of your living room, sat comfortably on your couch, your skirt just riding high enough to distract.

“I was thinking. Well, I suppose the correct term would be overthinking. Emily had to snap me out of it, because I was kicking myself and doubting myself and worrying so much that we almost lost the unsub…”

“What I’m trying to say is I’ve regretted not doing too many things to think coming to beg you to kiss me again is a bad idea. It’s not a bad idea, right?”

“That depends, Spencer.” You replied, setting your glass of wine down and standing up. You took a wobbly step towards him, eager to blame your hesitancy on the wine rather than the things his gaze, his words and his simple presence was doing to your body.

“On if you only want a kiss.” Your hand gingerly slipped up his chest until it was hooked into his hair, exploring the shorter locks as he grabbed you by the waist.

“Or if you aren't satisfied with just that.”

“I can't seem to come up with an answer. Perhaps you should kiss me and it'll jog my memory.”

You finally cracked a smile, and saw his face instantly bloom into ot as well.

“Nu-uh Spencer. I think you have to take that chance this time.”

He hesitated only a second before his hands were cradling your face, tipping your chin up to him as he bent to kiss you. You immediately responded, letting your hands grab fistfuls of his shirt as you pulled each other closer.

It sent you off balance, but you let yourself follow the motion of you tipping backwards, letting him catch you as you began moving in the direction of your bed.

“Not a bad idea,” he mumbled between deep kisses, letting loose a stray moan when your hands trailed down to his belt and below. “Definitely not a bad idea.”

Somehow in the clash of lips and hands, you managed to make it back to your bed, his hands already managing to find themselves under your dress as his lips diverted your attention.

“Four months, Spencer.” You growled the words into his mouth as your tongues battled for dominance. “Four months without this. I thought I'd go insane.”

You felt him smile as he lifted you, and grinned too as you wrapped your legs around him just as he began climbing onto the bed, softly lowering you down until he was on top of you.

His tongue travelled down your neck, making his way back up towards your ear.

“I did go a bit insane, you know?”

His hands flipped up your skirt as he ground his dick against your crotch, pushing it up further until the bottoms of your breasts were peaking out of the scraps of material as well.

“Let me make it up to you?” It was phrased like a question he didn't care about the answer to, as he pushed off of you and completely rid your body of the material that was hindering it completely.

“That's better.” You swore you heard a sigh of contentment as he held your thighs apart and lowered his head, one kiss at a time, to your neglected pussy.

He hooked a ginger under your panties, and pushed them off to the side, but he'd never been the most patient, and he'd already spread your legs. He'd just work around the impediment, you knew.

And he did, starting with a casual flick of the tongue as he looked up at you from his place at your cunt, smiling at you as he began to feast.

You'd never thought of yourself as a pillow princess before Spencer, enjoying giving love as much as receiving but he gave you the perfect royal treatment, and enjoying it so much it was impossible to deny.

After getting so spoiled, it was a wonder that you even knew how to adapt to life without him, nothing compared to the care and attention he showed you in bed.

Your thoughts blended together as he pressed a finger into you, already sneaked with his spit and your wetness, collected from between his lips and your soaked cunt. His pace was steady, repetitive, and driving you fucking insane.

Never a demanding lover, before you would have simply let him enjoy his time between your legs, enjoying just how much he enjoyed it himself as he lapped up all of your juices.

But four months clean from your addiction to Spencer Reid and you were snapping.

Your hands gripped at his hair, pressing his face further into your cunt than he'd been before, enjoying the muffled moans and the sound of his tongue generously lapping up all you had to offer.

You started humping his mouth, holding his head still as you used him as a tool to get yourself off, finally cumming on his mouth with a shudder and an unfiltered moan.

It would've been embarrassing if it wa anyone else, just how loud you'd been for your ex-boyfriend.

“You taste the same.” He said, wiping the remainders of your cum from his lips as he stroked himself, having loosed his cock from his pants sometime between you moaning like a wanton whore and using his face as a sex toy.

A single glance at him over you pleasuring himself was enough to get you ready for round two.

He had sat up on his knees, head and torso tilted slightly back to give you a better view of his cock being pumped hard and fast.

“Spencer Reid, don't you dare make yourself cum.” You thought the words were joking, light even but even you were shocked by the sheer lust dripping from your throat.

Wrapping your legs around him again, you pulled yourself up into his lap, holding yourself still as you quickly unfastened each of his shirt buttons, pushing it away and chucking it so far that he wouldn't be able to use it to cover up anything else.

It took you a minute more to properly situate yourself, but soon you were sinking down onto his cock and allowing the stretch to rule your mind and movements for a minute.

You gently started riding him, letting each gasp and moan reach your ears and spur you on, not holding back on your side either, telling him just how good it felt to have him in you raw once again.

Your stamina wasn't great though especially after having had one powerful orgasm already, and your movements soon became sloppy.

He kissed you softly on the lips, and you let go of the tension in your body as he pushed you onto your back, made sure you were comfortable, and started beating his cock into you with such a force that you were sure the bed was going to break.

It was this intensity that you craved, this complete change from his insistence on putting you first so to speak, and then using you as a human sexton when it suited him, allowing his cock to push you to your limits and beyond.

It wasn't like you could protest anyway, mouth hanging limply open in a scream of pleasure as sparks shot up your spine.

Entertaining Spencer Reid was never a bad idea. You decided then and there that if he left you again for whatever reason, you'd hunt him to the ends of the earth and beg for another chance at this feeling of pleasure.

You came again, of course, not sure if it was his cock or his exploring hands that was tethering you to the moment as you died a little death.

His own orgasm wasn't far behind your own, but he'd always been a bit messy. You weren't surprised when he gave a small panicked moan, pulling out at the last second as his cum spurted out. You helped him ride it out, wrapping a hand around him to stroke him until his dick was drained, the contents sprayed across your chest and breasts, a single drop even making it to the side of your mouth, but that was quickly lapped up.

His aftercare was almost as good as his foreplay, as he took pains to wash you diligently, even as all you wished to do was sleep well into the night directly after feeling his hot cum pour onto you.

He'd gathered a wash cloth, fresh set of pyjamas and an extra blanket to cocoon you both in before you could even lift a finger, and climbed into bed before you could even think of asking if he was staying the night.

With the satisfaction of multiple orgasms finally catching you, you fell asleep in his arms, a grin plastered on your lips, his hands possessively surrounding you.

Needless to say, when you woke in the morning, he was still there.

[vixstarria]

Another gift

This is a continuation of my headcanon of Astarion’s romance with bard Tav. I can’t remember the actual chronology of cutscenes, but let’s assume this takes place after you’ve started a sexual relationship with Astarion and are beginning to grow closer. I was going to take it in a different direction initially, but these things have a mind of their own once they get going. 

If you like it, check out my first fic. I do plan on writing more! 

P.S. I may have taken some liberties with the game background story and DnD lore and magic system here – if it doesn’t really match up or make sense – sorry! Also I’m still only on Act 2. 

Tav tries to comfort or distract a brooding Astarion. 

Astarion x Reader, Astarion x Tav, Astarion x Bard Tav  

Comfort, fluff, budding love, humour, angst, banter, no spoilers, non-explicit 

Approximately 2,000 words. 

AO3

 

Astarion was standing outside his tent with his back to the camp, staring into a silver mirror. The man had either lost his vampiric condition, lost his mind, or was simply brooding.  

“Looking at something?” he asked absent-mindedly, as you approached. 

Brooding. Definitely brooding.  

“Looking for something.” 

“Oh?” He turned towards you. “Just my company, or is there something else I can offer you?” 

“I'm the one making an offering, actually. I thought I’d bring you a little snack” 

Astarion grinned and beckoned you inside his tent.  

Inside, aside from his bedroll, was a trunk with a large mirror opposite, a lit lantern and a scattering of weapons, equipment and books. You assumed your usual position, cross-legged on the bedroll, and offered him your wrist. This didn’t take long. Just a little pick me up.  

He finished, planting a light kiss on your wrist, reached for his amulet and whispered an incantation to heal the wound. He kept hold of your hand, lacing his fingers through yours.  

“Do you have any idea how much I appreciate that you don’t sexualise this?”  

“I haven’t thought about it... Really?” 

“Well imagine that any time you went to, say, take a bite of a turkey leg, there was someone staring, groping themselves and wagging their tongue at you. When you’re just trying to perform basic functions to stay alive.” 

“Sweetheart, that’s an average evening at the pub for me, when I perform. With or without me biting on anything. ...But I see what you mean”. You contemplated what he just said in a brief silence. “I can't believe you just compared me to a turkey leg.” 

“You’re more of a ripe, juicy peach” he said. You found yourself oddly pleased to be compared to fruit rather than poultry. 

You glanced at the large mirror standing on the floor of the tent.  

“You own an awful lot of mirrors for a vampire. Why do you even keep this here?” 

“That? Oh, it reflects light... makes the tent appear more spacious... prevents anyone from sneaking up on me. ...Unless they’re another vampire.” Astarion said contemplatively. “And I figured, I woke up once with a tadpole in my brain that let me walk in the sun again – who's to say I won’t catch another parasite tomorrow that might cure my vampirism entirely?” 

“Do you miss it? Seeing your own face?” 

“Preening in the looking glass? Petty vanity? Of course I miss it. I’ve never even seen this face. Not since it grew fangs and my eyes turned red. My face is just some dark shape in my past. Another thing I’ve lost. I wouldn’t even recognise myself anymore. It’s been two hundred years.” 

“But...” you fumbled, trying to wrap your mind around that. “You could have found a street artist to sketch you since then.” 

“In the middle of the night?” 

“Or commissioned a portraitist, those artistic types would accommodate you any time of day or night” 

“Commissioned a - …I’m sorry, at what point did I give you the impression that Cazador paid us an allowance..?” Astarion was growing agitated. “And before you say I could have stolen – remember, everything I had, anything I acquired by any means, the clothes on my back, my body, my will – it all belonged to the master.” He paused, regaining control of his demeanour. “There was no point in having any possessions, it would all be the bastard’s in the end. I didn’t want to give him any more than I absolutely had to.” 

You kicked yourself in the ass mentally.  

“Well how’s this... We get to Baldur’s Gale. We exterminate Cazador and take over his palace. Then we rip out whatever he’s got as décor, commission all the best artists, and hang paintings of you on every wall. There will be nothing but portraits of Astarion everywhere.” Astarion’s eyes softened as he watched you gesticulating and getting carried away by your own imagination. “Astarion in shining armour. Astarion on a horse. Astarion on silk bedsheets, half-covered in rose petals. Pirate Astarion. Astarion stroking a cat. Historic events, but every single person depicted is Astarion. Oh! And in the main banquet hall, there will be an enormous mural of you, fully naked, lounging on a divan and being fed grapes by a cadre of nymphs.” 

“With a fig leaf covering my unmentionables?” 

“A comically large fig leaf. Or better yet, no fig leaf, just your full unmentionable glory looming over the dining table” You paused, as if sobering up after being lost in your grand vision, and added in a more serious tone: “We can commission busts and statues, too. Get a mold of your face for a hyper-realistic one.” 

“We” he whispered, as if to himself, with a scornful chuckle.  

“Oh? Do you have someone else in Baldur’s Gate you’d rather spend time with?” You realised how callous that might have come across as soon as the words were out, and cringed inwardly. 

“...No, I don’t” he said absently. 

“Elves live long lives... Do you still have real family there? Friends from... before? ...A spouse? Children?” You'd wondered about this before, and figured you may as well lie in the hole you’d dug for yourself.  

“Gods, no!” Astarion blinked in surprise. “I wasn’t even considered a full adult by elven society then. No, mercifully I didn’t leave any little Astarions behind. All my friends from my youth are either dead or have blissfully forgotten me. And I don’t even know where my family is.” 

You gave him a sympathetic and questioning look, waiting for him to go on. He sighed and continued. 

“As you might expect, Cazador placed a restriction on me, preventing me from telling anyone about my affliction. I couldn’t approach my old acquaintances and go ‘Surprise! I’m actually alive! ...Sort of. I’m just someone’s vampire spawn slave now!’. No. I was to turn around and walk the other way if I ever came upon anyone who might recognise me. I was supposed to be devoted only to my new ‘family’.” he scowled. “I feared that Cazador would use anyone he thought might be important to me against me - for fun, or to teach me a ‘lesson’. And he would have, too: the mental torture he unleashed on his spawn was far worse than physical.” He paused and took a deep breath. “I couldn’t go and see my family, but as soon as I had my wits about me, I managed to arrange for one of the mercenary guilds to quickly escort my relatives out of the city. They were to be told that I made some powerful enemies who had me murdered, and that these enemies would come for them next. That they had to leave, change their names, and never return. I don’t know where they went. I can’t know, if I want them to be safe.” He looked away. “I can’t imagine how much they hated and cursed me. I ruined their lives.” he whispered. 

“You saved them!” you objected, taking his hand. He shrugged but squeezed your hand back. 

“I suppose I might have. Cazador would’ve left their heads on spikes in my crypt by now, otherwise.” He met your eyes again. “So yes, if anyone is going to be helping me decorate a palace, it’s you.” he added with a false cheer, clearly finished with the topic of Cazador.  

You thought he might want to be alone then and were about to leave, but he gently pulled you towards himself. He was sitting on the ground with his back against a trunk. You settled between his legs, your back against his chest, his lips right at your ear, one arm across your shoulders and chest, the other playing with your hair. The large mirror was on the ground right in front of you. He studied your reflection over your shoulder. You appeared to be lounging suspended at an odd angle.  

“How does it even work, anyway... It’s not just your body that disappears, it’s your clothing, too”. You grabbed a hat from the top of the trunk, holding it by its crown, and held it over Astarion’s head, moving it in circles against his hair. “Now you see it...” You let go and watched it disappear in the reflection. “Now you don’t.” 

“I’m actually not sure, darling. Maybe it needs to be supported solely by me. Or it’s got to do with movement” He threw the hat back onto the trunk, where it reappeared in the reflection. 

“Say...” threw your head back to look up into his eyes “Do you think my reflection would disappear... if a part of you was inside?” you bit your lip and grinned mischievously.  

“I don’t think so, but I love how that dirty mind of yours works” he purred in your ear. “Let’s check and find out” His hand slid towards the clasp of your pants, but you swatted it away. 

“Later.” Suddenly you were on a mission. “I have an idea.” 

The rest of your group were gathered around the fire as you made a dash for your tent and grabbed your kit of stage paints and powders.

“Chk, are you doing each other’s makeup in there?” came a scoff from Lae’zel, as you rushed past. 

“Don’t be jealous, Lae. We’ll have a girls night and braid each other’s hair tomorrow” you retorted, making Shadowheart choke on her drink.  

Back in Astarion’s tent, you reached for one of your loose facial powders. 

“You really don’t need to do anything, I’m used to it and nothing will work anyway” protested a confused and weary Astarion. 

“Astarion!” you said gravely, “This isn’t for you. This is for science”, and you blew the powder hard into his face. Sure enough, an outline of his features appeared briefly in the mirror, as the powder flew all around him. “It worked!” 

“Fan-tastic! Too bad you had to blind me to achieve that split second of a silhouette!” he coughed and rubbed at his eyes. 

“It should work with water, too, if you want me to pour some over your head. You need to wash all that powder off anyway, you look ridiculous.”  

He glared at you through the still flying powder particles and pointed a finger at your face.  

“No.” 

“Actually, hang on, I have a better idea.” You heard him groan into his hands behind you, as you ran back to your tent, to return with an amulet.  

“So, the good news is, I am really, really bad at this.” 

“If this involves setting me on fire again...” 

“That was an accident. Anyway... No, this lets me create a fog cloud. Or so it should. I can just barely manage some fog tendrils. Now if I just aim them at your face...” You concentrated on the spell. Whisps of fog appeared around Astarion. “Look...” As the fog tendrils twisted in the air, you could just make out a form that they floated around, in the reflection, one unmistakably of a face.  

“Well...” breathed Astarion, transfixed by the reflection, trying to make motions with his head to make the fog recoil. “It’s not much, but it’s more than I’ve seen in centuries” 

“Come on” you grasped his hand. “Let’s go outside, it needs a different light and a slight breeze” 

Astarion snatched his handheld mirror and followed you. He was actually eager.  

Outside, Astarion spun in the whispy fog, gazing at the mirror in disbelief, as you continued to concentrate on the spell. It was actually working. Your conjuration magic was just bad enough to make the thinnest layer of fog, framing his face like a delicate mask and reflecting in the mirror. What would have been considered incredibly precise work by a wizard, was made possible entirely thanks to you borderline failing.  

“That’s better... I’ll channel the fog right, you turn left against it. No, your other left! No, don’t go into the fire, you idiot, it won’t be my fault this time” 

You grabbed Astarion by the hand and tried to guide him away from fire and anything he could trip over – he was paying exactly zero mind to anything around him, as he semi-stumbled in circles, looking in the mirror. Scratch ran around you, barking, excited for a new game, and eventually tripped you both. 

“Another gift...” Astarion smiled at you, as Scratch did his utmost to lick his face.  

Meanwhile, the group watched the two of you from a distance, dumbfounded. Lae'zel broke the silence: 

“Your people have the strangest mating rituals.”  

“Should I... should I tell them I can probably just cast mirror image on him? I’ve only done it on myself, but it should follow the same principle” added Gale. 

“Maybe tomorrow” said Shadowheart. “Just let them enjoy this tonight.” 

~~~~~

Next in series

AO3

[hellodropbear]

like she used to (II)

alexia putellas x sister.

chapter I

~~~~~~

My fingers are dancing on the piano keys, the soft melody leaving my mouth in a quiet hum when Alba walks into my room that night. My mouth closes as the door opens, but my fingers are unstoppable, continuing to abuse the keys as I continue to play the song.

My hands rest on the last keys I pressed when I am done and I think Alba is crying, unless she suddenly has allergies. It is quiet for a few moments before she speaks.

"If you weren't so good at football I would try and convince you to do this forever."

She sighs, standing up and motioning for me to follow her as she laid on my bed. I move beside her, my head now resting on her shoulder.

"I remember when you first played the piano." She smiles, reminiscing on the fond memory. "You were three, you couldn't reach the pedals but you insisted that Papi taught you something. You made us all squish onto the sofa in his office so we could listen to you play and you gave us a very slow and broken version of La Vaca Lechera. It was terrible but Papi was so proud because you had only been playing for a month and could already play with both hands. He picked you up and claimed that you would be the greatest piano player to ever walk the planet. He would be so proud of his pequena superestrella."

"I wish I knew him." They're the only words I can bring myself to say.

"He was a very good man, I miss him a lot. He would have been so proud of Ale with all her football and so proud of you with it too. And your piano. Mami sometimes says to me that you are a mini him."

I realise she is avoiding herself, a habit she got herself into a few years ago, when I followed in Alexia's footsteps by securing my spot in La Masia. She used to be upset, it was unfair. Why had the football gene just skipped her?

"He would be proud of you as well, Alba."

She shrugs, I think she tries to blinks away tears but doesn't succeed because one lands on my head

"I hope so..." she pauses. "It is harder for me to imagine because I am not outstanding at anything like you and Alexia. I am just Alba which is ok but I just don't know what he would be proud of me for."

"There is no such thing as 'just Alba' because you are the best person I know. You don't need to play football for him to be proud of you. Do you realise you are the person we all go to when we need anything? When I am sad, Alba, when I am happy, Alba, when I want to laugh, Alba, when I want to cry, Alba. You are my answer for everything, hermana. That is better than any song on the piano or the biggest trophy there is to be won."

"You are so cute, I love you." She giggles quietly and wraps her arms around me. "Aitana called me earlier and I wanted to come over and make sure you are ok."

"What did she say?"

"Not much, she just asked if everything was ok between you and me and Ale. I didn't tell her the truth, if you were wondering."

"What did you say?"

"I just said that Alexia is struggling with her injuries and that you both are very busy. I don't think she really believed me. Either that or she knows there is something else going on."

I groaned. "She kept giving me looks as we were driving home and it was annoying."

"It's sweet, she's looking out for you." Alba smiles and ruffles my hair. "You are only a little baby to them. 15 is young, pequena!"

"Yeah, well it'd be nice if my own sister did that, wouldn't it." I snap back at her and she recoils slightly.

"You won't let me do anything about it, Elena, so don't get feisty with me! Alexia is complicated and I can't even get anything out of her." She rolls her eyes. Alba is sick of all of the tension. She has been for a while.

"I don't know what to say to her anymore. Does she even know that I was called up?"

"Mami said that she wasn't going to tell her because she wanted her to hear it from you."

"She had no problem telling me when Alexia got a new girlfriend." I'm petty about it, but sometimes I think I deserve to be.

"I cannot believe you still have not met Olga." Alba sighs, flopping back down onto my mattress. "She is very nice, I think you would like her." 

"I am good at getting out of things." I shrug my shoulders and Alba rolls her eyes again. "I don't want to meet her."

"You liked Jenni so much, maybe this could be the same?"

"I still talk to Jenni, on the phone. Maybe we should start an anti- Alexia Putellas club."

Alba groans and sits up, causing me to grunt in annoyance as my head is knocked onto the mattress.

"You know I don't like all of this venom between you two, so please just leave me out of it. I've had enough of you not telling me what the problem is, I am so, so sick of it. You used to be so close that I was jealous of your relationship and now all you do is complain about each other to me." She flops back onto my mattress in frustration.

"You don't understand, Alb, you don't understand what it is like for someone you idolise to practically forget your existence. She used to come to all my games and now she doesn't even know I was called up." She rolls her eyes as I move back to the piano stall, ignoring the way my voice cracked and my eyes sting with tears. 

"Mierda, Elena! How many times do I have to tell you? She has been so busy. I'm sure she has tried to get to them." Even Alba can't explain Alexia's absence. 

"Si, si, you have said that before but you can't understand because she never forgot about you. You didn't used to have an older sister who used to drive you to all of your trainings and games before she decided she was too busy for you and shoved you on the Barcelona busses at the age of 11!" My fingers begin to ghost the keys. Like I said to Aitana, the piano is a good outlet for my emotions. I am glad Mami let me put Papi's old piano into my room. I don't think she is glad when I wake her up in the dark hours of the morning playing loud songs.

"I have an older sister and a younger sister who used to be close and then fell out. I have a father who is dead and a busy mother. We were indestructible, Elena, but look at us now."

My left hand finds a chord and presses down on the four keys, calming my brain down.

"I am sorry that you are hurt by what has happened between Alexia and I, but I am so upset and I don't know what to do."

Alba's eyes softened but I looked down at the keys in front of me, sighing softly as she sat next to me.

"I'm sorry I can't help you more. I don't truly know what happened, but I just want things to go back to the way they were."

"I want that too." A tear found it's way from the back of my eyes but I wiped it away before it had a chance to fall down my cheek.

My fingers picked up another tune, familiarity gracing through my fingertips, the sounds floating around the room. Alba's head rests on my shoulder again and we both tell ourselves it will be ok. Alba likes when I play the piano because if she closes her eyes she can pretend it is our father.

"He was never as good as you are, hermanita."

~~~~~~

The rest of the training week went well. Better than well, but I was mainly just relieved that I wasn't a big disappointment.

The negative of my good performance is that I will be put on the team list. Jonatan pulled me aside after training today and told me I am on it and I thanked him with a smile, hiding my emotions.

I knew my sister was going to find out sooner or later. I'm honestly surprised it has taken her this long, it is not like she has been completely absent from the training grounds. Aitana seems to be the only one who has noticed that me and Alexia have not spoken, but she still has not got anything out of me.

I tell Mami to lock the doors and windows when the team list comes out because I don't want to face Alexia when she inevitably comes over and asks about it. She tells me to stop being ridiculous.

I manage to lock myself in my room when I hear her car coming up the driveway. As soon as she is in the house I climb out the window and walk to the bus stop. I don't want to deal with her tonight. I don't want to deal with her ever, to be honest.

The bus driver smiles at me as I tap on, heading to the back of the bus, no destination in mind. I am happy to just sit there as it drives through my home. My phone is unsurprisingly buzzing of the hook, full of congratulatory messages from friends and family and strangers and fans.

Aitana: *attachment: 1 file* very very proud of you! congrats little lena.

She had screenshotted the team list and put a big heart around my name and I think that might be what started to tears.

But before I knew i could see tears tracking down my face in my reflection as I stared out the window, my mind just wishing that things were normal. Wishing that I was at home celebrating with my family, excited to finally be on the same team as my older sister. I wish I wasn't crying on a bus trying to escape confrontation with my sister who I know will be disappointed that I am on her team.

But this is how it is.

I find myself getting off the bus outside the park near the training grounds, still not sure where I am going. I was considering heading in, practicing my shooting or going to the gym, although I expect they will be closed.

What I don't expect is to hear someone calling out to me.

"Pequena Putellas!" The voice is familiar and I recognise it almost immediately. "What is my little replacement doing out so late in the middle of Barcelona?"

Mapi reached me quickly despite the crutches that she doesn't seem to be relying on too heavily.

"Congratulations, replacement! First team sheet-" she stops when she sees my face. "oh."

"Hola Mapi." I put on a smile but it is a weak effort. "I'm just heading home."

"Si, this is about you and Ale, no?" I look at her curiously and she rolls her eyes. "You don't think I wouldn't have noticed? She is my best friend!"

"And that is why I can't talk to you! I have to go home because they will be looking for me." She rolls her eyes again.

"You are coming over to my house and we are talking about this like grown-ups because you are now a professional athlete. You are not a grown up but you have grown up since I saw you last pequena!" She smiles lightly and uses one arm to pull me into a hug. It is awkward with her crutches. "I have missed you so much." Her words are mumbled quietly into my hair, her arms warming me with comfort and nostalgia. 

Apparently, the new apartment Mapi has moved into with Ingrid is right across the road from the park so we walk back, Mapi getting increasingly frustrated as I become more and more reluctant.

"Maria, please just let me go home?"

She was adamant that she wanted to talk. I just think she wants to know what happened between me and Alexia but I can't tell her. She wouldn't understand. Nobody would understand because everyone would just think I'm being childish and petty. Maybe that's just what I am.

We stand in silence as the elevator takes us up the levels to the apartment.

"Ingrid is not home, she is out with Frido tonight so you do not have to talk to her."

I let out a quiet exhale in relief. Ingrid is nice enough from what I know of her in training but I don't want to have this unwanted conversation in front of anyone else.

Mapi and I used to be close. She was never my favourite but that is mainly because I saw her so often that the novelty of her had worn off quickly and I found myself gravitating away from her at trainings because, like Alexia, she was just always around.

But Mapi loved me like I was her little sister because she never had any of her own. She did a lot for me as a child and tried to pretend that she wasn't offended by my blatant favouritism of other players.

She sat down on the sofa in her living room as soon as she opened the door and I grabbed her crutches that she had thrown on the floor and stood them up against the wall.

"Thankyou, now sit here." She patted the seat beside her and I sat down, my arms crossed. "Do you want to tell me why you were crying alone in the middle of Barcelona, 45 minutes away from home?"

I shook my head.

"Will Mami be mad?" I hate the wobble in my voice.

"No, I texted her and told her you were with me and she said it is ok. She is not mad at you, pequena."

"I don't like being called that anymore." I slumped down in my seat.

"What do you want to be called?" I am surprised that she didn't ask why. I suppose it might be obvious.

"I usually just get called my name." I pause. "Elena."

She smiles lightly, though I can see the water in her eyes.

"I know your name. I know you very well, Lena, I have for a long time but I also know your sister very well and I know that there have been problems for a while now and I know that she is trying her very best to not make it obvious that it is ripping her up and you are doing a very bad job of hiding your sadness. Why did you not tell her you had been called up into the first team?"

I roll my eyes but choose not to respond.

"No, don't roll your eyes at me, peque- Elena. I understand something must have happened but it is big news that you neglected to tell her!"

"What is bigger news? Breaking up with your girlfriend or being called up as a replacement in a football team?"

She hesitated and I continued.

"Getting a new girlfriend or being called up as a replacement? Buying a dog or being called up as a replacement? Being told you are about to win the Ballon d'Or or being called up as a replacement? She told me nothing for so long so don't you dare try and tell me that I should tell her about my life when she does not care to tell me about hers!"

Mapi recoiled and I immediately felt guilty.

"Sorry."

"No, don't be sorry. What else has she done to make you upset?"

"No, Mapi, we're not doing this because you don't need to know about what my sister has done to me. I don't need a psychologist, I just need to grow out of being the pathetic and weak baby Putellas. The younger sister of La Reina who has not had to work hard because her pathway has already been paved and everything has been handed to her on a silver platter." My voice is bored, like I am in front of a class, presenting a boring speech that I have practiced in my bedroom for weeks. 

"Why do you say that? Where is this all coming from?" Her voice raises slightly and her arms wave about as she speaks.

"Because it is true, Maria, why else would things be the way they are? I don't deserve this, it's only been given to me because of my surname." My voice is clearly becoming more urgent and I try to calm myself down. It doesn't work. 

"Where are you getting this from? You need to stop making this stuff up in your head and telling it to yourself because it could not be further from the tr-" Mapi's voice was raised, only slightly, but I could hear the wobble in her voice.

"I am not telling myself this stuff, Alexia did! And Alexia is right, she always has been and she always will be. She is a football geek she knows everything."

Mapi pauses, her mouth opening like a goldfish and her eyes staring straight into mine for any hint of exaggeration or lies. She found none. I have never been a liar.

"She... she said that? To you?" Mapi was surprised. How could her best friend have said something like that to the little girl that meant the world to her? "Alexia said that to you?"

I regret my small outburst immediately; I didn't want to tell Mapi. My fingers begin to get restless, my heart racing, my gum held firmly between my teeth. It is in these moments that I would move to the piano and prepare myself to play a song. My fingers ghost imaginary keys by my side as I take a deep breath, preparing myself to beg and plead; to do whatever I need for Mapi to forget everything I just said. 

"No, you cannot say anything, Maria, this is all a lie, I am dramatic, I am making it all up. Please, just forget I said anything. Please." Tears began to slip out of my eyelids and the expression on my face can only be described as desperation.

"calma, calma. vale. I will forget everything and I will not tell anybody, as long as you don't want me to. But pequenita, it is not true, not true at all and you don't deserve for anybody at all to speak to you like that. You are talented, so talented that I am jealous of you, not your natural talents but your work ethic, Elena, your work ethic is admirable. You are so strong and you have worked for every single opportunity you have been offered and do not ever-" I look away from her.

"Look at me, Elena, look." I look towards her again and notice the water in her eyes.

"Do not ever let anybody tell you otherwise and if you do you call me up immediately and they will get a piece of my mind, si?"

I slump into Mapi's familiar arms and let out a small cry and she just squeezes me harder. I haven't ever told anyone that much of the conversation I had with Alexia - not even Alba - and to hear her best friend attempt to squash any of the worries I had about myself was refreshing. My fingers begin to ghost imaginary piano keys, preparing to begin playing a piece.

"Was this before or after you transferred to La Masia? That is around when she stopped going to your games, no?" Her voice was soft and I felt the need to answer.

"It was during the party that Mami held, when my spot at the academy was accepted. That was the reason why I started crying when I was talking to you. You probably don't even remember that, it was so long ago." I let out a dry chuckle and she rubbed her hand down my back.

"I remember. I remember thinking you were not telling me the truth but I had no idea what was wrong. You have been suffering in silence ever since?"

I don't want to nod my head because it feels dramatic to say that. 

"I told Alba only a little bit of it but nobody else knows. Please, please, please don't tell anybody. Not Mami, not Alexia, not anyone. Please." I looked up at her and she stared at me wordlessly for a few moments before exhaling softly.

"Elena..." She pauses again. "As much as I want to go and give your stupid sister a piece of my mind I will not but on the condition that you talk to Alba or your Mami or me or anyone about it, si? Even Alexia. Maybe she has forgotten. But she misses you, that much I can tell."

I nod, wordlessly making a promise that I know I can not keep. She seems to be satisfied though and changes the topic.

"vale, buena. It is too late to drive you home so you will stay here tonight and Ingrid and I will drive you to Johan tomorrow, si?"

I nod, I do not have a choice.

"Is there a piano in this apartment?"

~~~~~~

Mapi saying she had a piano is an overstatement, it is a keyboard with Norwegian inscriptions that was shoved into the corner of the unused study. Apparently Ingrid does not play the piano but has always wanted to learn.

But, I take the equipment for what it is and sit on the stall, flicking through the different sounds for a while before I find something I like. The office chair behind me squeaks as Mapi sits down but I ignore her presence as I place my fingers on the keyboard.

She would have noticed the release of tension in my shoulders when I sat down. She would have noticed the sigh of relief that I released as my fingers placed themselves on the keyboard.

The song starts out slow. Ludovico Einaudi is one of my favourite composers. His notes sing out from the keyboard speakers and soon they become faster and more intense. Nuvole Bianche is a pretty song, in my opinion, and I like to make up stories as I play it whenever I do. Sometimes I relate to the stories and other times I do not.

But the song builds and builds until a brief pause in the middle in which I hear Mapi sniffling and there is shuffling downstairs. Ingrid must have arrived home. The song picks back up quickly and before I know it the last few chords are ringing out through the room and Mapi has come to stand behind me and is rubbing her hand down my back.

"The last song you played me was un elefante se balanceaba and now you are playing this. You made us sing along and you went all the way to 50, we were in there for a long time. But now you have grown up. You are still so young but you have grown up now I am so proud of you."

I can hear the tears in her eyes so I stand up and pull her into a hug. I feel guilty, she is Alexia's best friend and I accidentally slipped what Alexia said which could potentially drive them apart. But I can't help but feel relieved, I feel comfort which is something I have been looking for for such a long time. Mapi used to be like a sister to me. I don't think I even realised how much I have missed her. 

"That song was so hard!"

She chuckles into the hug and I do too.

Maybe I deserve to feel like this every once in a while.

~~~~~~

hope you enjoyed x

chapter III

[kanagenwrites]

Hey folks. My name is Kanagen (It's pronounced Ka-na-ngen. Kana is fine.), and I'm a writer. I mostly write sci-fi with a more or less sapphic bent, and I'm not shy about putting lewd content in what I write because fuck petty moralism.

I'm active in the Human Domestication Guide writing community, where apart from being an author (see below), I'm also a Loret, which means I help maintain and update the lore of the setting, help new creators with questions about it or how to fit a story into it, and so on. All of my publicly available fiction at the moment is HDG content, but I plan on working more on my own original settings and concepts in the future.

I have a patreon, where I post my current long-form project's drafts chapter by chapter, once weekly. I also occasionally talk about my writing process. I'm hoping to expand content there in the future as well.

I don't use social media very much because I remember what the internet used to be like before walled gardens and techbros ruined it. (You kids really don't know what you're missing.) Nevertheless, the life of a freelance writer rather demands I put myself out there somehow, so here I am. Ask me questions, behold the weird stuff I reblog, and try not to get too parasocial with me. I'm just a weird lady who puts words in funny shapes.

Bibliography

Long-Form Fiction

No Gods, No Masters - A revolutionary leftist copes with the subtle differences between her own idea of the perfect world and the just-a-little-off version of it the Affini offer. First novel-length work in the Tillandsia Trilogy; highly suggested you read this before The Floret in the Mirror and especially Freedom's Ember.

The Floret in the Mirror - A mystery/thriller about identity, digitization, and impossible simulated lewdness. Content warning for amnesia resulting from traumatic brain injury as part of the setup. Sequel to No Gods, No Masters.

Freedom's Ember (ongoing) - Sixty years after the Affini conquered her world, a woman clings to her independence; sixty years after being frozen for cryogenic flight from the Affini, a woman struggles to discover who she really is when freed from her father's influence. What is freedom, and what does it mean in the context of the Compact? Sequel to No Gods, No Masters and The Floret in the Mirror, conclusion of the Tillandsia Trilogy.

Sui Generis - A martian attorney living on Earth finds adjusting to life with the Affini easier than most; she was already keeping her wife as a pet before they arrived. The real question is, where's that strange jealousy coming from?

Short Fiction

Mainspring - A Terran secret agent is captured by the Affini, trapped by artist for whom his body is a canvas, and she means to make of him her magnum opus. Wind-up doll content, and probably my most commonly cited story for "this rewired my brain"-style reactions.

Reading the Leaves - A tea-obsessed barista, an affini new to humanity, and a sweet (if awkward) romance culminating in a very raunchy ending. Entry for the HDG February Fluff Fic Jam 2024.

The Fifth Fundamental Force - This story is a silly joke. It should not be taken seriously, though many inevitably do.

Aftertaste (stalled) - A former quadrillionaire and epicure who just barely avoided domestication is tracked down by an affini culinary anthropologist who wants to use his brain to reconstruct a lost flavor using his long-buried memory - he was the last human to ever taste bluefin tuna. This fic is only sporadically updated because the stars must precisely align for my brain to be in a state to write boyliker fic. Sorry, I'm just really gay, y'all.