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vanteguccir · 3 months

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8 minutes of cute moments | Matt Sturniolo

Matt Sturniolo x reader

Summary: Where a fan made an 8-minute video with a compilation of Matt and Y/N being in love.

Warning: None.

Requested?: Yes, by anons, @myfavoritesstuff, @dracoflaco and @ecliphttlunar

Author's note: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

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8 minutes of cute moments between Matt Sturniolo and his girlfriend, Y/N.

1st minute - "Trying Japanese snacks with our parents!!!":

The triplets were recording a video where they tried different snacks from Japan, and their parents were participating of it as guests, just like Y/N - which was nothing new, since the girl made at least a small appearance in every video from the triplets channel.

The six of them were around one side of the kitchen table, and all the snacks that would be used in the video rested on it. Y/N stood next to Mary Lou with her head resting on her shoulder, while the woman's left arm wrapped around her waist affectionately.

Matt was explaining to the camera about the snack they were going to eat next, when the girl raised her head slightly, pointing with her left hand at the only glass of water on the table, which was in front of Mary Lou.

"It's yours, right? Can I have a sip, please?" The girl asked her mother-in-law, receiving a big smile and a nod in response.

"Of course, go ahead!"

Y/N smiled back, picking the glass and taking a generous sip. Before she could take another one, Chris suddenly interrupted her, cutting off Matt's sentence.

"Someone's invisalign is in that water." Chris pointed to the glass, raising his eyebrows in surprise when he saw his sister-in-law drinking the water from there.

Y/N stopped her hand holding the glass in the air, her eyes widening comically as her cheeks puffed out in embarrassment.

"What?" Her voice came out high-pitched, her eyes going from Chris to the glass repeatedly.

"Oh my God, babe, it was mine!" Matt pointed out, a laugh escaping his mouth, followed by Mary Lou, who curved her spine slightly as she laughed, trying to apologize.

"Ew, ew, ew." Y/N mumbled repeatedly, dropping the glass on the table with a loud clinck. She began her steps towards the sink, ready to give her mouth a thorough rinse.

Her steps were interrupted by Matt, who lightly pulled her into his arms, hugging her from behind. His arms wrapped around her waist as he rested his chin on her head, an amused look still in his eyes.

Y/N let out a groan, trying to free herself from Matt's arms, wanting to clean her mouth.

"No need for all that, baby. You've had worse in your mouth." Matt threw, his voice loud enough for everyone there to hear.

Nick let out a dramatic scream, covering his ears with his hands quickly, a look of fear taking over his features. Chris's eyes widened momentarily before laughter escaped his mouth, followed by Jimmy, who patted Matt's shoulder. Mary Lou raised her eyebrows at the couple, shaking her head playfully.

Y/N opened her mouth in surprise, her eyes widening as she stopped fighting against his hold. She felt her face burn with embarrassment, her mind still processing what her boyfriend had just blurted out in front of his parents, siblings, and camera.

"Matt!"

"I'm kidding, baby. I'm sorry." Matt said, his tone full of amusement, showing that he wasn't sorry at all for what he said.

The brunette lowered his face, resting his right cheek on Y/N's right shoulder with his face toward her neck, sealing her jaw repeatedly, exhaling the natural scent of her skin as he tightened his arms around her, throwing a playful wink towards the camera.

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2nd minute - Silent treatment:

The triplets and Y/N were at Target buying the drinks that the boys would use in the channel's next video. Nick had his vlog camera in hand, recording bits of their little trip, just like they used to do.

The four of them had decided to split up to optimize their time, as Y/N needed to get some things that had run out at their house. With that, Y/N and Matt went one way, while Nick and Chris went the other.

At some point, Y/N approached Chris and Nick with a giant pout on her lips and arms crossed, her heavy steps against the floor drawing their attention.

"Uh oh, what happened?" Nick asked upon noticing her upset expression, focusing the camera lens on her face while frowning in confusion.

"Matt is ignoring me." Her pout deepened, her eyes dropping to the floor momentarily. "I just wanted to get a Diet Coke, but he said we would get that later and that the focus now was on the video stuff." She explained in a defeated tone. "But I said I felt like it, and he told me to stay quiet and just do what you said, and then he started ignoring me and giving me the silent treatment-"

The sound of approaching footsteps interrupted her, her eyes quickly looking up to the source of it, seeing Matt approaching with a basket with 10 cans of assorted drinks, and at least 15 cans of Diet Coke.

Y/N's eyes filled with tears when she saw him and what he had picked, lowering her crossed arms and watching him with hopeful eyes.

"Matt! What did we talk about giving the silent treatment when you're mad?" Chris raised his eyebrows, resting his hands on his waist in a playfully confrontational gesture.

The brunette rolled his eyes, completely ignoring him and approaching his girlfriend.

"I'm sorry, babe. It was childish of me to ignore you. But look, I got you a bunch of Diet Coke." Matt asked, lifting the basket with the cans before looking into Y/N's eyes, frowning in concern when he saw them teary. "Oh no, don't cry, pretty girl. I'm sorry."

Matt's tone was desperate, his hands dropping the basket onto the floor before wrapping around Y/N, pulling her into a tight hug. He pressed her head against his chest, lowering his own and sealing her temple for long seconds, whispering "I love you" repeatedly, pressing several kisses to the same spot.

"Ugh, how can you two be so disgusting even when you're fighting?" Nick's voice sounded from behind the camera, the lens shaking as he suddenly turned around, leaving that aisle and pulling Chris with him.

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3rd minute - Y/N's birthday:

It was Y/N's birthday, and at her own request, the celebration was being something small, just a little thing with her closest friends, at her house - which she shared with the triplets, one of them being her beloved boyfriend -, without alcoholic drinks, but with several different snacks and sweets, as well as a pink cake, heart shaped and covered in glitter.

It was time to sing the happy birthday song and Nick quickly fished his phone out of the back pocket of his baggy jeans, opening the camera and setting it to record, wanting to keep the memory forever.

"Baby, can you stay by my side?" Y/N asked in a low tone, her eyes focused on her boyfriend, Matt, as she was already standing behind the table in their kitchen.

The cake was in the center with two pink candles filled with pearls in the shape of her new age on top, surrounded by sweets and snacks, as well as several drinks filled with edible glitter and dishes in different shades of pink.

Matt smiled at her request, his cheeks taking on a reddish color in shyness and love, walking over to his girlfriend and positioning himself next to her, his arm wrapping around her waist automatically.

"Wait, let me light it." The brunette interrupted Y/N's next movements, who was ready to light the candles.

Matt quickly did so before straightening up, nodding as he heard everyone start singing the "Happy birthday" song, while clapping and smiling at the couple.

The boy tightened his arm around Y/N, lowering his head so that his lips approached the side of her forehead, sealing her skin for a long time while humming the song along with everyone.

"Happy birthday, pretty girl."

It was Y/N's birthday, but it was Matt who was getting an amazing gift for the fifth year in a row.

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4th minute - Guess the triplets by zoom in pics:

The triplets were finishing the video where they had limited time rounds to guess who it was in the photos shown, just by a small part of their body or face.

"Before we finish, we want to do something different. We'll call Y/N so she can play a round alone. But the trick is: we'll tell her that these are random photos of the three of us, but actually, we'll just show photos of me." Matt explained in a low tone, his face closer to the camera so that the lens captured his words, an eager smile decorating his face.

While the brunette talked to the lens, Chris did the job of calling Y/N and explaining what she would have to do, taking her into the frame after Matt finished speaking.

Y/N smiled slightly at the camera, waving quickly before sitting down in one of the two chairs set up behind the table, keeping her arms on the wooden surface and looking at the triplets expectantly.

"Okay, Y/N, are you ready?" Nick began, scrolling his thumb through the separate photos in a folder in his phone's gallery, before clicking on one. He zoomed in on an almost unrecognizable area, turning the device towards Y/N, showing her the screen. "Who's-"

"Matt." Y/N interrupted Nick abruptly, slamming her hand on the table right after, momentarily forgetting that she needed to tap there before saying the answer.

Chris raised his eyebrows from behind the camera, approaching Nick and looking at the photo quickly over his right shoulder, before taking the device from his hand and searching for the next picture, looking for one that was just as difficult.

"Okay, you got it right, but that one was too easy. Let's see something different." Chris smiled sideways, covering the phone screen with his free hand so that no one but himself could see what he was doing.

Matt rolled his eyes, smirking as his eyes met Y/N's, watching her cheeks take on a red hue under his intense gaze.

A few seconds later, Chris finally chose the photo, zooming in on the area most unlikely to be recognized before doing the same process as Nick, showing it to Y/N.

The girl looked at it for a few milliseconds before slamming the same hand on the table.

"Matt. Again." She smiled smugly, lifting her chin in the air in pride.

Matt let out a loud laugh, clapping his hands momentarily, entering the camera frame, and walking up to his girlfriend's back.

He leaned forward slightly, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and laying his head in the crook of her neck, before repeatedly kissing her cheek.

Y/N smiled in shyness at his loving gestures, feeling confused by the sudden actions.

"I said my girlfriend knew me as well as I knew myself." Matt spoke to his brothers behind the camera, smiling into the lens in excitement.

"Wait, was that a prank?"

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5th minute - "We bought the zoo for a day":

The triplets and Y/N were at the zoo for 24 hours, a way of thanking the fans of the Sturniolo Triplets channel for making them reach 6 million subscribers.

Y/N felt over the moon, having grown up with a huge passion for all types of animals, made her enthusiasm triple every time her eyes met a different animal, dangerous or not.

The four were in the zoo's tour car, accompanied by their guide, who stopped in front of certain groups of animals from time to time and briefly explained their species and main characteristics.

Nick and Chris, who were sitting in the seats behind the front ones, listened intently to the guide as they recorded themselves and their surroundings, often focusing the lens on the couple in the seats behind them, Y/N and Matt.

Matt nodded his head every few minutes, wanting to show the guide through the rearview mirror that he was listening to him and understanding his explanation, while his eyes fixed on each of the animals shown.

A huge smile decorated his face, accompanied by his pupils that seemed to shine bright. Y/N's right arm was around his waist, keeping him close.

Her hand caressed his covered skin lightly, gently squeezing it every time she felt him jump in place excitedly, or when he simply waved at the animals, whispering "hi" or "bye's".

God, how she loved him.

The camera, focused on Nick at the moment, captured the image of the two in the background, recording the cuteness of the couple, who seemed to be in candy land.

Y/N leaned into Matt's side from time to time, her pupils dilating as they ran over his excited, awe-like features. She sealed her lips over his cheeks and jaw every minute, whispering against his skin how much she loved him and adored seeing him that happy.

The girl also laid her head on Matt's right shoulder sometimes, squeezing her arm around him and pulling him closer - if that was even possible.

That only intensified Matt's happiness, who smiled so big that his eyes closed, shrugging his shoulders in shyness and enthusiasm.

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6th minute - Disgustingly cute:

Nick and Chris were in the living room as they spoke to the camera, explaining what they would do in that vlog, which would be posted next Wednesday.

Chris remembered that they had to call for Matt, commenting that the boy was still in his room and that they had been calling for him for over 20 minutes already.

Nick rolled his eyes, muttering something like "I don't know what I did to deserve this shit" in an ironic tone, walking quickly to Matt's bedroom door, turning the camera so that the lens captured the environment inside.

His free hand worked on turning the handle, pushing it quickly, hoping to give Matt a scare.

He just didn't expect to see Y/N still lying in bed - which left him confused, as he imagined that the girl would already be at the market, since there were some things that had run out on their house and she told him that she would get new ones while they were filming.

The girl was dressed in the clothes she would wear to go out, her makeup and hair done, and her face carrying a defeated expression. Meanwhile, Matt was lying on top of her, all of his weight against Y/N's body.

His face was buried in the crook of her neck, only the sight of curly brown hair apparent. His back rose and fell slowly, on the rhythm of his calm breath.

Matt's body was covered by the sweatshirt set he would be wearing for the video, and Nick quickly understood that they were ready for the day, Y/N about to leave, when Matt interrupted her for a lovey dovey session.

Y/N had her eyes closed and a smile resting on her face, seeming to dive into the moment. Her right hand was in Matt's hair, and her fingers threaded through his curls, massaging his scalp. While her left hand was on his back, traveling from his shoulders down to the small of his back, and back up again.

Every second, it was possible to see Matt moving his head slightly, and a sound of lips sealing against skin sounded throughout the room, making it clear that he was kissing Y/N's cheek or neck.

Whispers of "I love you" and sweet nothings were occasionally released from their lips.

"Matt, I'm going to fire you if you don't get up now and do your job." Nick's voice sounded like thunder between the four walls, scaring the couple.

Matt quickly sat down between Y/N's legs, turning towards the door with wide eyes, while Y/N opened her own eyes abruptly, her right hand flying to her chest, feeling her heart racing under her skin.

"You are crazy." Matt shook his head, moving to get up from the bed, casting a sad glance at Y/N, longing to return to her arms.

"And you guys are disgusting." Chris added, smiling roguishly, letting it know that it was a joke. "Y/N makes Matt a softie. She has him on a leash, I swear."

"Shut up, Chris."

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7th minute - Gamer boyfriend:

Y/N felt her shoulders heavy from the extremely busy day at work. All the tasks placed on her duty made her almost go completely insane, and all her body asked for was her bed and her boyfriend's arms.

So when she got home, the first thing she did was go up the stairs and enter her shared room with Matt, her movements almost robotic and automatic.

The sound of voices echoed low from one of the corners of the room, and Y/N quickly noticed that Matt was sitting in his gaming chair, his arms resting on the computer desk as he played one of his addictive games.

His eyes were fixed on his computer screen, his ears covered by the headphones from which the voices were coming from.

Y/N smiled slightly, feeling her heart warm by finally seeing her boyfriend. She quickly grabbed a set of the boy's sweatshirts and left the room, going to the bathroom, where she took a shower faster than usual - just wanting to be able to sleep as soon as possible - and got dressed.

As soon as the girl entered their bedroom again, she noticed Matt talking into the microphone of his headphones, and she quickly understood that he was streaming, probably with his brothers and on Twitch.

Y/N walked slowly towards her boyfriend, touching his right shoulder lightly, alerting him to her presence.

Without the two noticing, the chat went crazy from the moment the girl appeared in the frame. Miscellaneous comments about her or the two of them as a couple were sent so quickly that if Matt were watching them, he wouldn't be able to read any.

Matt lifted his head quickly, lowering the headphones so that it would hang around his neck, a big, bright smile appearing on his face as his pupils instantly dilated.

"Hi baby! I didn't notice you coming." The brunette's voice came out in a low tone, his eyes taking note of his girlfriend's tired expression and tense shoulders, his eyebrows almost automatically furrowing in concern.

"I arrived just now, I just came in to get some clothes so I could take a shower." Y/N whispered in response.

Matt smiled as he saw his own clothes covering his girl's body. The boy lifted his arms, encircling her waist and pulling her closer, sealing his lips lightly over her covered waist.

"Do you want to go to sleep?" The brunette asked, tilting his head back so he could see her face, ready to just turn off his streaming if she said yes.

"I do, but I want to be with you more." Y/N spoke, raising her right hand quickly, interrupting Matt before he could even consider stopping his streaming. "I don't want you to stop it... Can I just sit on your lap while you play?" Her tone was vulnerable, her tired eyes looking into Matt's expectantly.

"Of course, my love. Always." Matt quickly responded, nodding his head as he moved slightly away from the table with the help of the soles of his feet against the floor, opening his arms, waiting for his girlfriend to fit between them.

Y/N smiled in gratitude, positioning herself between his thighs before sitting on his lap. She wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms hooking around his shoulders, getting comfortable.

She sealed her lips against his right cheek in a lingering kiss, stroking the soft skin with the tip of her nose, before laying her head in the crook of his neck, breathing heavily and finally closing her eyes.

Matt kissed the top of her head for some seconds, arranging his headphones against his own ears again, giving a shy smile to the camera.

His right hand traveled to the mouse, pressing play on the game again, while his left hand caressed Y/N's back, helping her get into dream land.

He felt his cheeks burn with embarrassment as he watched the chat go as fast as he thought it be possible, keeping his focus on the game.

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8th minute - "Trying and guessing 21 different drinks":

The triplets were recording the video that would be posted that Wednesday, where they had to try 21 different drinks - some that they are used to drinking every day, others that they have never even tasted - and guess what which one was.

Y/N was participating in the video as a special guest. She had a feeling she would do poorly at the task, since she wasn't used to drinking anything other than Diet Coke.

Nick had decided to leave her for last, telling her to rearrange the positions of all the drinks in each of the boys' rounds.

Soon, it was her turn. She cast a quick glance at Matt, concern and nervousness present in her expressions. The brunette just returned it with a quick wink, waving his hand as if to say "you can go", waiting for her to leave the kitchen so he could rearrange the drinks.

Before calling her back, Matt surreptitiously took a photo of the position of the drinks, quickly putting away his phone, finally calling for his girlfriend.

Y/N returned to the kitchen with a tense smile, stopping in front of the table and behind the drinks, looking at the triplets, waiting for them to give the go-ahead.

Given the start, the girl bent down to take a sip of the first drink, her expression brightening and her eyes instantly widening as she tasted her favorite drink.

"Diet Coke!" She quickly said after rising from her slightly bent position, pulling out the paper with the image of the soda.

"Okay..." Chris muttered, nodding his head in confirmation. They knew she'd get that one right since her obsession with the drink was as strong as Chris's obsession with Pepsi.

The girl bent down again to take a sip of the second drink, momentarily catching her throat before she could swallow the liquid, the horrible taste flooding her mouth.

She stood up abruptly, swallowing the contents roughly, looking at the brothers with a frown, receiving laughter in response. The girl stopped in front of the images for a few seconds, internally analyzing which one it could be.

Her fingers worked on pushing away the images of the drinks she had already drank before and was sure that wasn't the horrible thing she had just drank, staring firmly at the ones that she didn't know.

When her finger went towards one of them, the image of Matt moving his arm around caught her attention. She looked up and saw her boyfriend behind his brothers, trying to get her attention.

Matt, realizing that she noticed him calling out to her, discreetly pointed to the right image with his free hand, his other hand occupied by his phone, which was displaying the photo he took of the correct order of the drinks minutes before.

Y/N smirked, dodging the path her hand was going, picking up the right image and placing it in front of the corresponding straw.

That cycle remained throughout the process. Chris and Nick were in shock, even thinking about the possibility that Y/N had some kind of superpower..

While Matt had a discreet smile on his face, biting his bottom lip to stop the laugh from escaping every time he saw his brothers reaction or the way his girlfriend smiled like a mad woman.

Upon finishing her round, the girl stood in front of the table with her arms crossed, a convinced expression taking over her features as she waited for Nick to confirm how many she got right, even though she already knew the result.

"Look, I don't know what kind of witchcraft you did, but you got everything right." Nick said, his face with an expression of annoyance.

An excited scream escaped Y/N's lips. She ran towards Matt, hugging him tightly while jumping in place.

Matt laughed at her reaction, pulling her closer, kissing the side of her head repeatedly, jumping with her.

"Ugh, I hate you guys."

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My asks are always open. Feel free to send requests or anything at all 🩷💋

And remember to treat people with kindness always!

~ taglist:

@lustfulslxt @ladybunny44 @worldlxvlys @earth2starkey @remussbitch @freshloveforthefit @il0vebeingdelulu @sturniolowhore @mimi-luvzyu @alorsxsturn @urfavgirllyyyyy @domizzzsstuff @sturnizd @hearts4chris @cupidzsq @dracoflaco @leah-loves-lilies @tylerthecreatorsrealwife @rootbeerworshiper @junnniiieee07 @elliesturniolo1 @sstvrnioloo @lightsgore @gidgett11037 @sturniolho @iammattswife

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suncoved · 9 months

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OUCH! — RAFE CAMERON

pairing; boyfriend!rafe cameron x clumsy!fem!reader

summary; rafe wouldn't trade his clumsy girlfriend for the world.

warnings ; bit of blood (blood nose), fluffy fluff, ooc rafe fsss

you let out a huff to yourself as you reach your hand up to your forehead, clutching it softly and praying to yourself that you weren't sweating profusely. it was deathly hot in the outerbanks today, and your usually 5 minute walk to the cameron house had slowly turned into 15. you did not work well with heat, even after living in the obx for your entire life.

you knew if you called rafe and asked him to come get you at your house he probably would, but you wanted to have some dignity.

trying not to explode with happiness, you stepped into the doorway of the cameron house. with the ac cooling your body, you sighed in relief and made your way to the kitchen. you were always welcome at rafe's, you were there more than you were at your own house.

you heard someone yell your name behind you, whipping around to see rafe's little sister wheezie bolting towards you. "hi wheezie girl" you said as she really knocked you down from the force of her embrace. you had known wheezie since she was a baby and she loved and adored you like a big sister.

you ruffled her hair as she hugged you, though you were both quick to pull back from the heat still prevalent in your body temperature. "how'd the algebra test go?" you asked, adjusting her glasses that were now crooked on her face.

"not good, another D" she sighed, moving towards the kitchen counter as your eyes followed her movements. "its ok wheeze. you'll do better next time, i know you will." she smiled at you lovingly, before turning her eyes back to the current math question she was working on in her book.

you brought yourself to the kitchen cabinet, reaching in to pull out a glass. you loved rafes house, it was beautiful and clean and it had all your favourite things. food, blankets, a pool, an endless array of books and rafe, of course.

wait. where was rafe?

"where's your brother wheeze?" you asked, taking a sip out of your now full cup of water. "he went down to the gym with topper and kelce a bit ago, he's in one of his moods" she sighed, referring to the particularly touchy moods rafe gets in every once in a while.

which means he's extra pissed off than usual.

good.

you said goodbye to wheezie and made your way back out into the heat, walking down the steps and around the house to where the camerons gym was. you heard the loud rap music from miles away, the grunts of the boys echoing louder and louder and you got closer.

you got distracted from the damage of the hurricane on the shore of the beach outside the cameron house, your feet carrying you unconsciously towards your final destination.

you skimmed your eyes over the backyard, the pool foggy and murky, leaves and branches floating on top of the water. you bit your lip to stifle a laugh at wheezie jumping up and down with her phone in the air, trying to get wifi.

you were worried about how hard the cleaners and gardens were going to have to work to get the yard back in shape, but before you could come to feel empathetic for them, a searing pain arose on the bridge of your nose.

your eyes filled with tears as you reached your manicured hand up to your nose, the red crimson liquid staining your fingers and dripping onto your new yellow sundress.

because you weren't watching where you were going, you had run smack dab into the side of the entrance to the gym, your nose hitting the hinge that was sticking out of the wall.

you could taste the metallic substance dripping down your lips, your ears ringing from the pain. yes, you were always just a bit of a crybaby, but you had a low pain tolerance and bumping your nose hurt like shit.

you could hear the sound of weight dropping aggressively as you let out a whimper, clutching your nose in your hand. it was only seconds before heavy hands made their way onto your hips, an all too familiar strong cologne engulfing your nose, making it sting even more.

but you knew who it was, so you didn't hesitate to turn your body around and lay your head on his chest, your hand still protectively covering your nose. you couldn't help but sob at the pain, soft shushes and a hand rubbing your back comforting you softly as you wept.

rafe felt the blood stain his shirt, but he made no effort to move, kissing the top of your head softly.

it wasn't unusual for your daydreaming to lead you to injure yourself in some way. whether it was tripping over or banging into something, rafe knew your clumsiness all too well. but he hadn't seen you cry like this in pain since the 5th grade when you fell off the monkey bars and knocked your head.

along with his sets that were yet to finish, topper and kelce were now long forgotten in his mind. all he thought about was you, and the fact that you were in pain. it made him go fucking crazy.

"baby" he sighed softly as he gently pried you off his chest, pulling back to try to get a good look at your face. your hand was covered in blood, along with your lips and chin, the crimson red still dripping from your nose.

"fuck" he cursed, watching your tears flow down your cheeks in a steady stream. rafe wasn't often calm and collected, but this was a whole different level. he was freaking out.

he quickly took your hand in his, dragging you softly up to the entrance of tannyhill. the only thing he could hear was your whimpers and sobs echoing in his head, all he could think about was you.

before you knew it you were being lifted up onto the cool surface of rafes bathroom counter, the cold marble making you shiver as your dress rode up to expose your thighs. rafe quickly grabbed out multiple tissues from the box, gathering them together in his hand.

"this is going to pinch baby, i'm sorry. hold my hand yeah?" he asked — well — demanded. you felt him bring the paper up to your face, pinching the bridge of your nose softly to stop the blood flow.

he made quick work of multi-tasking as he kept the tissue on your nose, quickly cleaning the blood of your lips and chin. he didn't look you in the eyes once as the whole ten minutes he held your nose, waiting patiently before finally pulling away.

you had never been more thankful as you felt no more blood trickle down your face — and so was rafe.

he sighed as he threw the tissue in the bin, grabbing your face in his hands and holding leaning his forehead on yours. you looked into his eyes before he closed them and took a deep breath in.

"don't ever fucking do that to me again baby."

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron drabble #outer banks #obx imagine

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hybridirl · 4 months

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i’ve never done this before…

18 + only, please!

ellie x f!loser!reader

a/n: so basically i was on janitor ai because i’m genuinely an addicted freak and this was inspired by a chat i had :3 im also replaying tlou2 bc i cant stop i need it i need it i need it. also i think a LOT more things make sense now, so i think you should replay after u play it.

brief summary: ellie is ur big sister’s best friend! but, unfortunately you’re dubbed an “annoying little sister,” your sister’s not home, ellie’s high when she comes over, and ur a loser nerd who can’t deal with confrontation :(. (au if it wasn’t obvious!)

tw / DUBCON?, ellie is very mean, degrading, praise, pet names, reader is a virgin, small age gap if you really squint, porn without a plot, rushed sex, scissoring (tribbling?), use of y/n i think…

⋆ ˚｡⋆ ꪆৎ ˚

with a grunt, you pulled your pajama pants up the rest of the way. you were headed to the door after hearing seven hard knocks on the door.

“hello—“ you began, cutting yourself off when you see ellie, your sister’s best friend. “ellie?” you glanced behind her, then behind yourself. “she’s not home right now.”

“yeah, yeah,” she slurred, and your lips went into a thin line from her state, so obviously intoxicated. “she told me come ‘n wait. she’s gettin’ her shit rocked, ‘r whatever. she dropped me off ‘ya know? said you wouldn’t mind. you don’ mind, do you?”

being such a caring person had its ups and downs. you weren’t fond of ellie, and she wasn’t fond of you. she had been your biggest bully throughout the entirety of middle and high school. but, you couldn’t deny her entry. she could get hurt or worse, and you didn’t want that. or to be responsible of it.

you adjusted your glasses, eyeing her with a thoughtful look. her eyes were halflidded, red, and she smelled disgusting. she eyed you right back, her stare almost intimidating.

“no, ellie. i don’t mind,” you said begrudgingly, stepping aside to allow her in. you watched her make her way around the all-too-familiar home while you shut the door. you mentally prepared yourself for tending to her needs; you knew she’d tell if you hadn’t. you also prepared for the anger she would inevitably feel. she was an angry person when intoxicated. you leaned against the door and watched her opened the fridge.

“what do you got?” ellie asked, shutting the refrigerator and looking at you. “what’re you gonna make?”

“i don’t know,” you responded and took a glance at the stove. you hadn’t noticed what she took from the fridge, only gasping when you heard the familiar sound of a beer opening. “hey, hey, hey! that’s my dad’s!” you watched ellie shrug and give you a “so what?” look. “stop it, that’s not good for you!” you rushed over, reaching for the beer, but her rough hand kept you in place as she chugged it down. “ellie, stop! you’re already high, that’s gonna make it worse; ellie, stop!”

“and what the fuck do you know?” she asked as she slammed the beer bottle of the counter, “you stupid fuckin’ loser, what the fuck is wrong with you? i’ll do what-the-fuck-ever i want. you’re such a fucking lame-ass, you won’t even take a lil sip o’ this thing,” she stuck the beer can up to your mouth, which you turned away from, “that’s what i thought, you stupid bitch. you’re probably a virgin, too, huh? you don’t even try- nobody even tries for you. no man, no woman, no whatever. never been in a relationship, never been in fuckin’ nothing. you are such a fucking loser.”

your jaw was slack, almost looking like a fish out of water as it tried to shut and open.

“you’re too high for this,” you said slowly, still shocked at her words. you took a step back, your back pressing against the island counter.

“you don’t know the first thing about ‘too high,’ jackass. bet you never had a dick in you before. too busy studyin’ your stupid fucking books to be the good girl you are. can’t even do this because you’re always bein’ a teacher’s pet, always bein’ a goody-two-shoes, know it all, fucking bitch. probably got a few toys like the desperate freak you are. maybe a dildo? nah, you want that pussy t’stay tight, huh?” you thought it couldn’t get worse than the insults before, but this was insane. your eyes were wide, shock filling your features.

“ellie!” you gasped in horror and embarrassment, “i— i’m calling my sister!”

“you’re a fucking snitch!” she giggled, pointing at you. “she doesn’t care what the fuck i’m saying to you. she’s too busy slutting herself out to give a fuck about your pathetic ass, baby.”

“go away, ellie,” you whimpered out, eyes at the ground. you attempted to push past her, but her hands gripped your wrists. “please.”

“you’re not getting rid of me,” she growled, her beer-breath filling your nostrils, “you’re a goddamn joke. i’m not going anywhere ‘til i’m good ‘n ready. you just know i’m right.” she leaned in, her lips brushing your cheek as she whispered deep into your ear, “you just want my hands all over you, don’t you, y/n? i’ve seen how you watched me. you want a real woman’s hands on ‘ya. all of over your pretty body, hm?”

“no,” you whispered right back, your brows furrowed. this was your sister’s best friend. this was just… wrong; you couldn’t explain it, but it wasn’t right. and she was high! she didn’t know what she was doing, what she was saying, but her touch felt so…

“don’t you lie to me,” she huffed her breath hot in your ear, “you wanna get touched bad. you know you do. you want my hands slidin’ down your pretty panties and touchin’ that clit. make you cum all on my hand. you want that, don’t you?”

“ellie,” you almost moaned out at her dirty talk, your brows knitted together in conflict. your hand went to cover your mouth as her hand slipped beneath the waistband of your pjs and simultaneously your underwear.

“let it out, baby,” she told as your hand muffled a broken moan, “you’re already so, so wet for me. this pussy’s just beggin’ for my touch, huh?” her finger-pad ran across your clit and your knees buckled. she giggled in response, a lazy grin plastered on her face. “mm, ya feel that? this’s what y’ve been missin’ out on with all that nerdy bullshit you do.” her fingers slipped easily inside you, making your eyes roll with pleasure; another moan escaped your throat. “y’so tight. just like i thought.” she pulled her fingers out, quickly giving them a lick before tugging your bottoms down. “oh, baby…” she moaned at the sight, licking her lips as she took you in. “look at that pretty pussy. mhm, ‘n all f’r me, huh?” she knelt down, getting face to face with your cunt. “answer me.” she kissed at your inner thighs. all you could do was watch, trembling under her dominating touch.

you yelped, jumping in surprise as she bit your thigh harshly.

“i said answer.”

“y-yes! all for you, ‘s all for you,” you whimpered, whining as her mouth finally met with your drooling pussy. your resolve had slipped away, only thinking about that needy, touch-starved vulva of yours. “oh, ellie…” she grinned as she watching you come undone, your fingers slipping into her hair and tugging at it. she lapped and lapped at your clit, tongue running circles around the sensitive bud. she gave it a last kiss before she pulled away, smirking at your distress.

“preview, baby. all that was. go to your room, m’followin’ you.”

you were anxious to walk, taking just a moment before giddily rushing to your room. the masculine woman easily followed your direction, shutting the door hard behind her as she pulled you down to the bed with her. her hands were immediately on you as you lay atop her, caressing and running down your back, cupping your ass and squeezing.

“you’re so ready for me baby, aren’t you?” she asked with a small smirk playing at her lips. “you wanna grind that pretty pussy on mine, don’t you?”

“i-i’ve never done this before, i-i don’t know what to do,” you admitted, although she already knew your circumstance.

“makin’ me do all the work, you pretty lil pillow princess?” she teased, that same lazy grin on her face. she easily flipped you over, watching your eyes widen in surprise. “god, how are you so perfect…” she moaned softly to herself, her hands running down your sides, down your legs, and down your calves. she reached her jeans, unbuttoning them and tugging them down quickly. you gulped as you eyed her pubic mound, her dark hair trimmed finely.. she lifted your hips up, appreciating your vulva once more. she used her thumb to lift up your clitoral hood, bending down to meet the pearl with her tongue. “mm, god, i can’t get enough of you. pull your shirt up, wanna see those tits ‘ve been wantin’ to see.” you did as you were told, quickly pulling your nightshirt up and showing her your breasts. a groan left her throat as her hands reached out to touch them, tweaking and rolling your nipples between her fingers.

“please,” you whined, your head tilted back. “please, ellie…”

“oh, i know you’re so needy, huh? never done this before? never been touched so good by another girl b’fore, huh?” ellie teased once more, and all you could do was nod. it was all true. “say it, baby. tell me how much of a loser you are.”

with an embarrassed grimace, you obliged, “i-i’m a big loser. ‘ve never, ever gotten laid ‘n i wanna… oh!” you gasped as you felt the sensation of her pussy meet yours. “ellie…” her hips ground against yours, your clits bumping and running across each other.

“you like this? my pussy all over yours?” she growled, rolling her hips to meet your cunt. “fuck, you’re so wet.” you moaned out, your hands trying to find a place to stay as they flailed. they gripped the sheets and you watched above as her pussy slid across yours. you both glistened with a thin layer of sweat, your bodies becoming hot with arousal. “you feel so fucking good.”

“yes,” you cried, “more.” and she gave you more, her hips rolling with fervor while you writhed in pleasure. “p-please— ellie!”

“yeah, scream my name you little slut,” she purred, her auburn hair sticking to her sweaty face. “let ‘em know— let the neighbors know you’re finally getting laid.”

you continued to moan her name, completely drunk on this feeling. she let out small little ‘just like that’s’ as your voice echoed off the walls of your room.

it was intense, your bodies moving together and so perfectly in sync. sweat dripped from her forehead onto your belly, slightly coating your skin. her hands gripped your chest as she ground against you, the position slightly awkward, but pleasing nonetheless as your heats mushed together in symphony. sloppy squelches filled your ears, almost drowned out by your moans and cries as she took you.

“i’m gonna,” you began, tears welling up in your pretty eyes, “i’m gonna cum, ellie!”

“yeah? right on my pussy? cum right on my pussy, baby,” she moaned, her hands reaching her cup her own breast. you moaned, following her command like a dog as your canal contracting around nothing, costing her slick folds in all your essence. your body convulsed as you came, and the sight forced a moan out of her throat. “yeah, that’s it, my good girl, fu—ck… i’m cumming!” with her orgasm following in suit, she gripped your leg hard, riding out her orgasm as you tried to come down from your own. you whined from the overstimulation, feeling her arousal spread out on your flesh. she shushed you, her index finger on your lips as she calmed her breathing. she dropped your leg, plopping beside you with a grunt.

“t-that was good,” you said to her, your eyes lingering on her glistening face.

“mhm, now you get to brag to a—ll your nerdy, little virgin friends that you,” she jabbed a finger, “got laid.”

“you’re mean,” you huffed, a little pout on your face. she smirked, bringing a hand to the back of your neck and bringing you in to kiss.

“yeah?” she chuckled, “but you like it.”

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notmyneighbor · 2 months

Text

Let Me In ~ Doppelgänger Francis Mosses/The Milkman x Female Reader

Chapter 8

Word Count ~ 4.6k

Rating ~ Explicit

CW ~ sexual content, slight breeding kink, body horror, minor violence

Also available on AO3

taglist @luthien-elvenia-asher @fishfetus @gaudesstuff @nekee-lilac02 @msdevil333 @rrnrjn @maskedpacific @yoongiwantsme @that-0ne-simp

Fanart used with permission @kaworinx on Instagram and TikTok

You always have to be extra careful when one of the Sverchzt sisters is asking to enter the building.

Twins, and both of them nearly identical, save for the location of the mole on the cheek: on the right for Selenne, the left for Elenois. Both employed as models, with the same hourglass figures, full, painted lips, long lashes, and breathy voices accented with something exotically European sounding. You always feel very plain and lacking around them; it was like being back in school again as the shy, unpopular girl, envying the pretty cheerleaders that seemed to have it all.

But you don’t feel inadequate today, still buoyed up from your feelings of being with Francis’ doppelgänger all weekend. You look over the identification card and entry request, finding everything in order. The elegant woman is on the day’s list of expected entrants, too. You’re nearly ready to hit the switch to grant her access into the apartments, still reminiscing about your fiancé, when something in you, some sixth sense kicking in, cautions you that you should probably call the apartment, just to be certain. There is nothing visually you can identify that is incorrect about the haughty woman on the opposite side of the glass, who is now folding her arms across her ample chest, the polished nail of an index finger tapping against the porcelain skin of one slender forearm. An impatient gesture you’ve seen Selenne make before, dozens of times. Nothing suspicious about the documents, either. But still, you feel it is better to be safe than sorry.

You already know all the residents’ phone numbers by heart now, the quick four digit extensions granting you rapid access.

“Hello. Elenois speaking. My sister and I are both at home today. We are not expecting any visitors.”

“Thank you.” You keep your expression calm, hurriedly flipping the plastic shield down and depressing the button to sound the alarm, catching one last glimpse of the doppelgänger, the crimson polished nails now scratching at the glass pane, the eyes with the lids shadowed in lavender streaked and bloodshot, the plush lips parting to expose yellow fangs dripping spittle before the shutters finish descending. You phone the disposal team, still maintaining your composure.

Close. That had been too close. You had to concentrate. Focus.

The day progresses and you find yourself getting back into the rhythm of things. Wondering how your pretender beau had decided which members of his squadron to sacrifice, sending them to the building to meet their doom to throw the DDD off the trail. What would happen when the numbers dwindled, when there were none left to send? Did the faded mark he’d left behind still shield you? Or did it only make you more desireable, like what had happened with the replicant who looked like Izaack Gauss?

You’re picking at the peeling varnish of the battered desk during the afternoon lull when someone walks into the building and your heart stops.

Francis.

Not the original, and not your doppel, either. This one is nearly a dead ringer, except for the nose that’s not quite right, the tip slightly larger, the nostrils a little more flared.

It had never occurred to you that there would still be other versions of the milkman walking around. Where has he been all this time?

“Mmm…hello.” The customary greeting the genuine version had always adopted. He slides an ID card through the slot.

“Entry request?”

“I’m sorry, I forgot. Here it is.” The smile breaks your heart. His smile. Only not.

You stare at the document for long moments. Everything looks correct: the document expiration date present and set for the future; the serial number identical to what you have on file; the logo of your organization in plain sight; the stated reason for the alleged milkman’s absence logical. All of the elements appear as they should, save for that slightly mismatched nose in the photograph and entry request.

“Is there a problem?”

Your eyes lift to meet his. Why are you drawing this out?

“Your appearance,” you answer distractedly.

“Yes? What about it? Doesn’t it match the picture?”

You shake your head, reaching for the alarm button. “I’m sorry.” It’s foolish, being this sentimental. No reason for it. You know the real Francis is gone. You know it’s not the invader you’ve fallen for.

Alarm blossoms on the fake milkman’s features. His hands clasp together. “Wait, please…I’ll leave. Just…I don’t want to die.”

You freeze. This was new. The doppels always reacted with anger when their cover was blown. You’ve never had one beg for their life before.

“I don’t want to hurt anyone.”

Was it true? Were there others that were willing to coexist peacefully? Had you incorrectly assumed they all sought the same goal, replacing humans and ruling over the planet, the one remarkable exception being your lover?

Or was this just a new tactic that they’d adopted, evolving, learning, adapting better to human weaknesses?

You had no way of knowing which it was.

“I can’t,” you say. “I’m sorry.” You slam your fist against the alarm switch before the replicant tries to escape, that same soft, pleading look haunting you as the shutter descends. The cleaners arrive and you cover your ears with your hands. You don’t want to listen to it. You can’t.

There are tears in your eyes when the figure in the yellow hazmat suit declares you are now able to return to your job.

***

The replicant milkman—yours, you note with relief—arrives later that afternoon, hastily adjusting the cap on his head, offering a brief glimpse of the perspiration from the heat outdoors lining his brow, his tousled brown locks damp, plastered against his forehead. He’s already smiling before he’s even reached the window, hurriedly thrusting his document and ID card through the slot, and something else, something that sounds metallic against the shallow stainless opening at the bottom of the window.

You reach for it, realizing what it is the second your fingers close over the object: your engagement ring.

The DDD had ceased its surveillance of the security booth, the resources and manpower needed elsewhere, apparently, so their is no longer the camera or the person watching it to worry about. You stare at the solitaire diamond, at the pretty filigree decorating the band on either side of it, and the tears that had been threatening to spill earlier come pouring out of you, a messy amalgamation of guilt and fear and relief releasing in that sudden cascade.

“Sweetheart, you like it that much? I’m so glad, I wasn’t sure…” His voice trails off. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

You shake your head, absently hitting the buzzer to let him in, then hitting its partner to shut the door behind him.

The door to the security booth opens. “Oh, Francis.” You throw your arms around his neck, burrowing along his shirt collar while he rubs soothing circles on your back.

“What is it, love?”

“I’ve had such a terrible day. I almost let in a doppel by mistake this morning, and just a little while ago there was a doppel that looked like Francis.”

“Sweet girl.” His arms tighten around you.

“He begged for his life, Francis. I’ve never seen that before. It was so difficult to call the team. But I had to. I had to do it. I didn’t know if he really meant he wouldn’t harm anyone, or if he was lying. I couldn’t risk him hurting the residents inside.”

“Of course you did, love.”

“How many copies of him are there? Just roaming around the city?”

“I don’t know. But it wasn’t Francis and it wasn’t me. They were just trying to trick you, and you didn’t fall for it. You did the right thing. I know it was difficult for you. I know why, love. I’m here now. I’ve got you.”

You remain in his arms, letting the comfort he’s offering seep into you. He does understand, better than anyone else ever could. After a time you draw back, sniffling. The ring is still clutched tightly in your fist. You relax your palm, spreading your fingers so you can admire the piece of jewelry again. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to ruin the moment. It’s lovely, Francis. Perfect.”

The imposter smoothes the last of the tears away and kneels down, gently plucking the ring from your right hand, then reaches for your left one, sliding the diamond band onto your ring finger and kissing the back of your hand.

The sound of a throat being cleared at the window interrupts the moment. You jump, startled. It’s the pilot.

“Dropping off more paperwork, doll?” Steven Rudboys grins, sliding his card and request form towards you.

You blush, aware of your fiancé rising to his feet beside you, frowning. Of course he doesn’t understand the reference, from that day when you’d visited the doppel so early on, when he’d slipped you the invitation to come to the apartment.

“I suppose congratulations are in order,” the man with the Mohawk says, his eyes lingering on the ring. “I always knew you two would end up together. Took you long enough, Mosses,” he adds, shooting the imposter milkman a sharp glance. “Don’t know what Afton and Stone are waiting for. I thought for sure they would’ve set a date by now. Bet you two don’t wait that long to tie the knot.”

Your cheeks are scarlet, your eyes focused on the documents, checking the day’s schedule. On the day’s list. A quick phone call just to confirm what you already know, allowing the man to enter the apartments once you’ve spoken to his father, heaving a sigh of relief when he’s finally gone from sight.

“I don’t like him,” the pretender says, his voice nearly a growl. “I don’t think Francis ever did, either. Too intrusive.” He turns his attention back to you. “Maybe not the best timing for the ring,” he observes ruefully.

“I’m sorry. I love it. Truly. It’s just been a very hectic, stressful day.”

“Don’t apologize. You have every right to be feeling that way. I think…I hope…I can help with that. Come see me as soon as you get off shift, okay? And be careful. If you need me, call.”

You nod, kissing him before he exits the booth and heads towards the elevator. You stretch your hand out, turning it slightly, watching how the light plays over the facets. It was official. You were engaged. You doubted it would take long for the rumor mill of the apartment building to circulate the news. Poor Francis. He’d be bombarded with well wishers and busybodies. Rudboys was probably going to keep at him mercilessly.

The rest of your shift passes by blessedly uneventfully. It is nearly time for your workday to end. Time to return to your lover waiting for you upstairs, the doppel you’re betrothed to.

***

You tap your knuckles on the door of apartment 3-02, greeted by the copy of the living space’s former owner.

He’s shed the troublesome cap, the ebony bow unknotted and draped around his neck, the first pair of buttons on his shirt undone. He smiles at you. “Hello, future Mrs. Mosses.”

“Hi. Can I come in?”

“Do you have proper identification?”

“I seem to have forgotten it.”

He clucks his tongue. “Then I can’t let you in, I’m afraid.”

“Do you accept bribes?”

His lips twitch. “Maybe.” The opening widens. “Come in here.”

You enter and the door closes behind you. “That was easy. I don’t think you’d make a good doorman,” you tease.

“No, but I make up for it elsewhere, don’t I?” He murmurs and you hum in agreement as he slides a hand around your waist, dragging you against him. “It’s torture being away from you. To go from having the weekend together to this long absence all day…” His lips touch yours, traveling to your neck.

“I know. I thought about you all day long.” Your hand rests on his chest. He covers it with his own, toying with the ring on your finger. A little room to move the band, but still secure around the digit. You didn’t wear jewelry often, but the size you’d told him had been the correct one. “I love it, Francis.”

“I’m glad.” Another kiss on your mouth. “I’m hungry for you, love.”

You feel it in his kisses. No longer gentle. Tongue stroking yours roughly. Teeth nipping. You cross the hallway to the bedroom with your fiancé. Unfastening clothing. Yours. His. Impatient to be naked. A button tears from your blouse. “I’ll mend it later,” you say distractedly.

Your back is tucked against his chest, the pair of you standing before the dresser mirror. Your breathing is loud, nearly as loud as his. You would have been mortified to be making so much noise even a month ago. But you have no reason to hide it now. You’re engaged. No one on this floor was going to pretend they didn’t know what goes on with young couples behind closed doors. You’ve heard Afton and Stone going at it before. Not nearly as often or as loud as you and your doppel, though.

You’re about to bend to slide your thigh high nylons off but the copycat halts you, his hand clasping yours above the scalloped lace edge that clings to your leg.

“Leave them on for me? I like them.” He snaps a garter belt playfully, dragging a hand over your lace panties. Something else that was new. You normally wore sensible undergarments beneath your work clothes. But now you had someone to admire what clung to your intimate places. He caresses the space between your legs through the delicate fabric, dragging his hand up to begin massaging your breasts encased in a matching brassiere. “Gorgeous. So beautiful, love.” His mouth worries along your shoulder.

“Are you going to mark me again?”

A pause, his hands and lips freezing. “Do you want me to?”

The low pitch of his voice drags across your core. You’re still frightened of it. But you want it, all the same. You want this creature to claim you. “Yes. Do you?”

The doppelgänger’s lips are by your ear. “Yes, love. But you shouldn’t watch…”

Your eyes meet his in the mirror. “I want to. I want to see you…”

“Sweetheart…” Hesitant. Perhaps more afraid than you are. To be seen. Exposed. To let the monster off the leash, as it were. Allowing the demon within out to play.

“I trust you.”

He moans softly against your hair. “Are you sure? Are you absolutely certain?”

“I love you.”

A whimper. The thing inside anxious to be let out, scratching and gnawing at the bars of its enclosure, that barrier of human flesh that had once belonged to Francis Mosses. Nails raking across your abdomen. Not enough to puncture the skin, still careful, the barest scrape of the unsheathed claws you can just see emerging now. Tearing at the fabric covering your sex, the material fraying, the embroidered threads coming loose. The crown of chocolate hair lifts and you see his eyes: the doppel’s eyes, peering at your from behind Francis’ sleepy dark ones. Red like blood, like the vessels that burst in surrender, like the lining of those shadowed lower lids. The white sclera of the orbs iridescent, shimmery, identical to the outline of the alien creature clutching you, an unsteady shift in the very particles and atoms that comprise him, things unseen, things not meant to be viewed by a mortal eye. The neat ivory teeth no longer tame incisors and molars, but transformed, sharp like the cuspids of a vampire, ravenous, the drool dripping from them onto your skin.

It is still not what he truly is; that monster well concealed, struggling to maintain control in this tenuous bridged state, not quite one or the other, partly human, partly doppel. What remains of your panties are shoved down, his leaking cock pressing against the curve of one cheek of your buttocks. He pushes against you and you grasp the edge of the dresser, the stained and varnished wood supporting you at a slight angle as he guides his erection inside of you.

Your body is already gushing arousal, welcoming him in. You catch sight of your heaving chest in the mirror, your lingerie encased breasts lifting and straining to burst free, much like the replicant thrusting into you.

He says your name, and it is not Francis’ voice at all. This a summons from deep within, heavy, full of gravel, dragging across your flesh like sandpaper. The wavering, mirage-like border of his pulsing frame feels hot, sticky. Your lashes flutter. The bottles of cologne lining the dresser’s surface tumble down. So deep. He’s so deep inside of you. Shoved in to the hilt each time. And still you want him even further. Impossible. But you crave it. That complete violation. Was this what it felt like to be taken over? You’d imagined it to be painful, terrifying. Instead it was sheer bliss. Your eyes link with his through the oval shaped looking glass once more.

“More, please, Francis…”

He jerks you away from the dresser, still impaled on his cock. Here is the pain you’d anticipated, that searing kiss of teeth piercing your shoulder, sucking the skin over the bone, a burst of stars in front of your eyes, fireworks ricocheting within you as you come undone, your insides splashed with something molten, soaked with your lover’s release. Wet skin, wet pussy, drenched prick, sweat and cum and that thin trail of blood seeping from the wound he’s created, laving rapturously at the taste of you, that very human taste in his very inhuman mouth.

His body shudders against yours. Aftershocks, not from orgasm but the shift back to how he appeared before, the glow dissipating, eyes cleared and gentling, the sharp hooks tipping each finger a replica of Francis’ blunt edged nails once more. Only a few red welts betray those nightmare claws’ existence, where he had become a little too lost in the passion, tattooing the soft flesh of your abdomen. The door to the invader’s cage is sealed shut once again. You hold him upright as much as he holds you steady, slipping free from your entrance, the hot spill of seed leaking down your thighs, seeping into the stockings. You can feel the tremors still spasming, your own nerves quivering with the remnants of pleasure, echoing against you as your lover’s body shares the same sensation. The panting breaths grow quieter. The sound of the Rudboys’ television next door disturbs the stillness. You’d completely missed the audio cue of the curfew horn.

“Sweet girl.” It’s all he can seem to manage, this whispered into your hair. It’s the milkman’s voice again, but it sounds raw, raspy. The vocal chords had been strained, never meant to produce the sounds they had earlier.

You rest your hand on the one clutching your abdomen, the glint of your engagement ring winking, a stubborn sparkle in the glow of the lamp, struggling against the growing darkness in the room as the day’s natural light fails beyond the curtained window.

***

The blackberry jam, pulled from the refrigerator several hours later, is perfect.

Perhaps one of the best batches you’ve ever tasted. You’ve snuck a sample from the unsealed mason jar, unable to wait. You’re already imagining how good that flavor will be when it’s smoothed over the biscuits you’re making with your doppelgänger, his fingers kneading the dough mixture you’ve just created. There is a stray bit of flour dusting his nose where he’d absently stroked an itch along the bridge and you wipe it clear, the touch becoming a lingering caress. He pauses, fingers still dug into the dough, looking at you with that same kind of wonder as he had earlier, after the incident in the bedroom.

As if he cannot believe what you’d asked for, accepted so willingly, eagerly; of the control over his true form he’d been able to maintain, keeping you safe.

Pats of butter melt quickly on the sliced biscuits pulled from the oven. You’re sweating. You need a shower after this for certain. You slather on a generous layer of the sweet fruit spread, offering a bite to your fiancé. He chews, nodding approvingly. There is a stray bit of jam on the corner of his mouth. You cannot resist lapping at it. Licking his mouth open. Tasting the sweetness there. Marveling at how quickly the desire is rekindled. Perhaps you would never be sated. Always this ache, this gnawing want in your center.

Drenched in the shower together. Back out again. Night sounds through the open window. The measured footsteps of a patrol. Soft chatter. A dog barking. You miss your farmhouse. The crickets and the scent of lilac blossoms and your lover in your bed, on cotton sheets that smell like the outdoors, hung on the line to dry in the clear air.

“Francis,” you murmur, your mouth tracing the outline of the crest of one hip, you hand curled around the other. Tasting the soap on his skin, the slight masculine musk as you wander along his groin, swiping your tongue across his cock.

Your shoulder throbs, pulsing in time with the neediness within. You want it again already. Not just the sex, but the other. A strange kind of addiction developing.

Your pussy aches to be filled again. You suck his erection and moan, hastily tucking your hair out of the way. Ravenous. An animalistic slobber. Lips loose. Shoving down as far as you can tolerate. Past it. Insistent, fucking your throat with his dick.

A little gasp of surprise from the doppel. “Easy, love. Don’t waste it. Want to…”

You release his spit soaked member, planting wet kisses back up his stomach, his chest. Crawling over his body until you reach his mouth. “What do you want, Francis?” Your voice a whisper, matching his.

“Oh love, you know what I want.” This huffed beside your cheek. You’re teasing kisses along his jaw, nipping at an ear lobe.

“Tell me. Tell me how you want to fill me up. With your cock. With your cum. Breed me, make a baby…”

You don’t know where the words come from. Another gasp. A growl. You want to impale yourself on him but it’s not the ideal position for getting pregnant. You allow him to shift, moving your body with his, pinning you beneath him.

“Is that what you want, sweet girl?” His hands press into the pillow beneath your head. There are a proper quartet of them now, piled plush cushions for you and your alien lover.

“Yes. Please, Francis…”

His knee parts your legs. Pressure. He’s inside you.

Your head lifts off the pillow and he captures your lips, pressing you back down. Working inside of you slow and steady, fucking you back open.

“There you go, love.” His mouth gentle on yours.

“I need…”

“What? What do you need?”

Your shoulder is on fire. “I want you to mark me again.”

“No, love. It’s too soon for that.” You feel him shake his head, the faint stir of air beside your cheek with the motion.

“It felt so good.”

“I know.”

“Put the light on, then? Let me see you. Let me see what’s inside…”

“No.” His voice loud now, his hips still against yours. “No, it’s too risky.”

“You can control it. I know you can. I trust you.”

“You don’t understand.”

“So explain it to me.”

“Sweetheart, I can’t. Not now.”

“Why not?”

“Because…”

“Because why?”

“Because I’m afraid,” he confesses against your neck. “You’ve no idea the strain. The desire to tear free. It would destroy Francis’ body. The urge to devour you…” He kisses your throat softly. “Let me love you like the man I appear to be.”

“I love you. You, what’s inside.” You touch his cheek.

“I know, love. And the way that makes me feel is indescribable. I don’t need to be out of this body to experience it. I adore you, sweet girl. Let me show you how much. Like this,” he says, his hips lifting and pressing, guiding his cock back into your hollow.

Your pelvis arches to receive him. It scares you how much you want him. Your body shakes with the intensity of that desire. Craving that violence, that feeling of teetering on the brink of destruction. His, yours. The human mouth on your shoulder. Sucking. Kneading with teeth that aren’t nearly sharp enough. But it stirs whatever he’s injected you with. A venom, a toxin, not poisonous, not lethal, but a chemical that you need more of. Bringing you closer to what you’re so desperate for. It doesn’t take you long to climax, the doppel’s own release close behind. He lifts your hips and legs, propping them against his chest, keeping his seed deep inside you, stroking along your stomach.

Willing there to be a spark of life there, the way all life has begun, according to the words in the holy book still sitting on the nightstand, a burst of light in the darkness.

***

Another day at the DDD security window.

The doppelgängers have been clumsy so far. Woefully inept at replication. You didn’t need specialized training to recognize the imposter for the shoemaker with a mustache as a fake, a single eye in the center of his forehead making Albertsky Peachman look like a cyclops. The clone of the mother of the student living on the second floor had correctly replicated the placement of the blue and green irises, but the phony Nacha Mikaelys’ jaw was strangely formed, the flesh pulpy and uneven, making it appear like oatmeal.

The best part of your workday arrives on schedule, slipping a new gift into the slot this time. “Tickets to the theater for this Sunday. I know it’s not the movie you mentioned, but…”

You grin. You can’t even remember the last time you’d gone to see a movie. And now you’d be seeing it with your fiancé. “Casablanca! Oh, it’s wonderful. I have something for you, too.” You exchange an open envelope with the doppelgänger.

He slides the contents free, unfolding the letter and scanning it quickly, a smile lighting his features. “They’ve invited us to see them.”

You nod, still beaming, watching the invader tuck the letter from your parents back into the envelope. “We’ll visit the following weekend.”

“I look forward to it. Still nervous, but looking forward to it. How was your day, love?”

“It went well. Yours?”

“Better now.” Another smile. “I’ve got another surprise, too. Left it in the truck because I was anxious to see you. I’m making dinner tonight. Well we’re probably making dinner. I’m not optimistic about Francis’ cooking skills,” he adds, lowering his voice.

You couldn’t blame him for doubting it. The man’s pantry and refrigerator had been nearly empty, and you had the feeling it wasn’t just because he’d been overdue for a trip to get groceries.

Thinking of the solitary, simple life of the milkman rinses the joy from your features. No real family to speak of, either, according to the doppelgänger, save for a cousin that he’d had little to no contact with. He really had been alone in the world. Isolated. You could have done something about that. You should have. But it was too late now. And you had your doppelgänger instead. The being your heart was so full for.

“Love?” The replicant sees the change in your expression, frowning now.

“I’m okay. Yes, I’ll help you cook. It sounds fun.” You’re not relishing the thought of working over a hot stove in that stuffy third floor living space, longing for the upcoming change in the weather. But you like the idea of working beside your partner. Preparing a meal. And what would come after.

The bite on your shoulder throbs, reminding you.

#francis mosses #francis mosses x reader #francis mosses x you #milkman #milkman x reader #milkman x you #thats not my neighbor #doppelganger #that’s not my neighbor #the milkman

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peachesofteal · 7 months

Note

Can we please please please get some more Simon x single mother au? Possibly him helping in the garden/ keeping emmaline out of trouble while Mom works in the garden

Light on - single mom/neighbor fic Simon Riley/female reader 18+ mdni / mild sexual content

“Ow! fuck!”

Your hand jerks, drawing back to your mouth with a hiss.

“What is it?” He forces himself still, staring daggers at where the tip of your finger has started to leak blood, a thick drop dripping down the side before you bring it to your mouth, lush lips wrapping around your injury. “Are you alright?” His tone is tightly controlled, even keeled, nonchalant, but on the inside, worry gnaws away at his stomach, chewing through the organ until it’s spilling free and running rampant through his body.

“There’s a piece of glass in here.” In the garden bed? “Some of the other tenants, hang around up here at night. They usually leave bottles or cans behind.” The worry turns to anger, a simple plan slowly taking shape in his mind, a strategy to find the rooftop partiers, and ensure they never leave glass in your garden again.

Emmaline cries, nose and brows wrinkled in irritation, and you turn to coo at her, finger still half in your mouth.

“It’s okay, little pea. Just give me a second.” She continues to fuss, and you sigh, wilting like one of your own little flowers, left too long in the sun without water. You blink, and it’s like you’ve shed your sunlit skin for an exhausted shell. Oh, sweetheart. I know it’s hard, but you don’t have to do it on your own anymore.

I’m here now.

“Can I?” He asks softly, warming at how your face lights with relief.

“Yes, please.” You point to the bottle that’s tucked in the side of the backpack, and he unbuckles her from the bouncer that you lugged up the four flights of stairs earlier, even though he had texted you an hour before and politely suggested you wait for him to be finished his phone call, so he could help you.

You went up anyway, much to his displeasure. Displeasure, that he had to swallow, permanently.

You’re not his. Not yet. He can’t be disappointed by resistance or refusal when you don’t even know all the ways he can be there for you yet. He knows you’ll learn. You’re a smart girl. His smart girl.

Emmaline lays nestled in the crook of his elbow, slightly elevated on her back, and he pops the cap of the bottle easily, rubbing his index finger against her cheek to trigger the reflex that will open her mouth. When it does, he keeps it at the right angle to ensure the formula doesn’t flow too fast into her belly.

“You’ve done this before.” You murmur, reaching into the backpack for a band aid. You’re studying him, tracing over his face, his hands that are nearly the size of your baby, and he can feel the scrutiny, the curious intensity of your gaze.

“Had a nephew. I was around a lot, when he was this age.” He had a brother too. And a mother. A sister-in-law. A family.

Emmaline gurgles around the nipple, and he slips it free, sitting her mostly upright, giving her a gentle pat on the back amid her protestations, little grunts that he’s sure she means as ‘feed me’ and ‘more’. He waits for you to ask him the dreaded questions, the focus on the word had, the inevitable conversation about loss and family and pain, guilt and grief that can make a man feel like he’s been buried alive.

You don’t.

Instead, you simply say,

“Emmaline had a dad once, too.”

It’s nearly 2100 when you knock on his door later, baby monitor in one hand, two amber colored bottles in another.

“Hey. You busy?” His heart does a double tap inside his chest. Bad timing, the worst. Your sweet mouth is slightly open, hopeful, teeth parted just barely to reveal a flash of tongue, and his jaw clenches against the wild need that catapults through his veins to his cock. What do you taste like? What do you feel like? You motion to the monitor. “Just went down. Figure I have about an hour before I pass out myself and could use some adult time.” Shit. The duffel bag next to the door practically speaks for him, irritatingly reminding him he has a plane to catch in less than two hours.

“I can’t, I’m about to head out.” Your brow furrows, confusion churning into understanding within a moment, disappointment flickering across your expression before it smooths out.

“Right. Okay.”

“I want to.” He hurries the words. “But I travel… for work and I have to be on a flight in a few hours.” You’re already half turning away, slinking off to your apartment, giving him a soft agreement as you go.

“Sure, yeah.”

“Wait, sweetheart,” You startle at the pet name, eyes going wide at the inferred affection. “when I get back, let’s… have a drink.” You nod, and he smiles a real smile, barely tugging his lips upward, probably hardly visible to you. The kind of smile he’s been wearing around you these past two weeks, the kind of smile he tries to give Emmaline when she stares at him.

“Alright, sounds good then.” Your key finds your lock, and he steps out into the hallway, trapping your gaze with his own.

“You girls be good.” He says, a parting instruction, and a bashful, bewildered smile of your own curves across your mouth.

“We will.”

#light on #peaches asks #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley #peaches writes

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pseudowho · 4 months

Text

Operation: Babymaker-- Ditch the Party...again

When it comes to trying for a baby, Nanami Kento always works overtime. And the reader had better be ready.

💜 💛 Part 1 LINK HERE: A Trip to the Tailors

💜 💛 Part 2 LINK HERE: Benchpress

💜 💛 Part 4 LINK HERE: Wet Dreams

💜 💛 Part 5 LINK HERE: Honeytrap/Maid Café

It's a beautiful day for a party, and Kento is a naughty, naughty goose drunk 🪿💛

And...LINK HERE to the original Ditch the Party

Warnings: 18+ throughout, breeding kink 💛

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"Kento! Are you nearly done? We've got to go!" You leaned out of the bathroom, smirking at Kento and the scrutinising eyes he ran over your niece's expertly wrapped birthday present.

Kento grumbled, mildly offended; "'Nearly done'," he scoffed, "as if I'd leave it to the last minute. It's been wrapped for a week." You padded over to him, pleased with your gift choices; a knight's costume (complete with sword and shield) and a glittery nail polish set.

"I can't believe she's five already," you crooned, fingers grazing over her gift, wistful. Leaning down, pressing a kiss to your forehead, Kento smiled into your hair.

"I can't wait," he hummed, the prospect of parenthood filling him with fizzy excitement.

You looked up at him with sternly pinched lips, and an unwavering memory of your last badly-behaved-Kento party attendance; "Well, you'll have to wait. It's child-friendly today. The strongest thing going past your lips is pink lemonade."

You headed towards the door. Kento had the absolute audacity to look at you with total innocence.

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"Happy birthda-- oh, she's gone."

Leaning down to hug the birthday girl, your niece, was futile-- she darted away laughing, slippery as an eel, into the maelstrom of other children, several dozen boys and girls her own age who had taken over the garden.

The obnoxiously loud party music, screeching kids on the bouncy castle, bustling parents making awkward small-talk, and flamboyant party entertainers turned the scene into a sensory nightmare. You felt Kento lean close, his smooth voice grazing your ear.

"I'll get us a drink, shall I?"

Before you could turn and beg to go with him, he was gone, weaving back to the kitchen with a sly look in his eye. Other parents stepped back from you, the currently child-free sacrifice, and you were as a gazelle on the Sahara.

"Tag, YOU'RE IT--"

You squeaked as a child slapped your thigh, promptly sprinting away. You smirked, tying back your hair, ready to be the cool auntie.

Ready to be IT.

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Kento strolled through your sister's kitchen, nodding politely to the horde of strangers, catching your sister's eye and being beckoned over. She looked sweaty, and harangued, but happy.

"Kento! Drink?" Without waiting for an answer, she bustled around behind her, scooping a ladle into an enormous crystal dish of juice, "Here, you'll need this, I promise. It's not that strong--"

Kento wasn't listening as two big red cups were pushed into his hands, and stared instead out of the window into the garden, his gaze meltingly soft and adoring.

He watched you, hair up, dewy in the Spring sun, laughing as you darted after squealing children. His chest burst, his head a montage of you and him and a fantasy child. Kento sighed, and took a generous swig of juice, thirsty after your long drive. He raised his fine eyebrows, glancing down into the cup.

"I don't normally like juice," he said aloud to your sister, who offered him a guilty little smile, "but this has something about it."

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Panting, and being congratulated by your watch for completing a good workout, you lolloped away from the crowd of children, who had now mercifully abandoned you for a live magician.

"Where is that man," you pondered aloud to yourself, as you poured yourself a glass of lemonade in the kitchen, "who promised me a dri-- oh!"

You slopped lemonade down your arm with a squeak of surprise, as strong arms wrapped around your waist, a wet kiss being pressed behind your ear.

"Kento! There you are. I was beginning to think you'd left me," you teased, wriggling away to wash your arms at the sink. Kento hovered behind you, predatory in his affections.

"Leave you?" He began, low and sultry, "How could I possibly, when you taste so--"

Kento was interrupted, your mother leaning past him to give you a kiss. As you spoke with her, you reapplied your lipstick, and Kento felt a wicked lick of heat in his belly, all inhibitions thrown out of the window after three large cups of 'juice'.

Your mother left, and you turned to drape your arms around Kento's neck, ready to be held at arm's length in accordance with his strict ick towards public affection. With a jolt of surprise, you felt his arms lock behind your waist instead, holding you flush against his body, his light slacks and summer shirt (why was his tie loose? how were the top three buttons suddenly undone?) leaving little to the imagination.

"That colour suits you," Kento whispered, husky as his eyes flicked down to your lips, one thumb coming up to slowly brush your bottom lip down, shuddering at the lipstick coming off onto his skin, "but it would suit my cock much better, don't you think?"

You blushed furiously, trying to battle your way out of his arms as he chuckled against your decollete. Your frantic eyes spotted the punch bowl, your sister-- from whom drinks should never be accepted-- and a series of empty cups.

You stuttered up at Kento, feeling yourself throb against your will as his tongue darted across his lips, smearing the lipstick residue on his thumb onto his neck instead. You began to hiss at him, berating, squirming against him to release yourself from his arms.

Kento groaned into you, and you clapped your hands over your face to hide your blush; "Keep that up," he threatened, low and laughing, "and I might just have to tie you up before I cum in my--"

You dropped out of his arms, wiggling under them and whipping your head round to check for other people, before pointing a finger at him. You mimed zipping your lips, eyes glistening, cheeks pink, and Kento felt his cock twitch at you telling him off. You had backed away, but Kento smirked, lopsided, and slowly loped towards you, eyes hungry, backing you into a corner.

"Tag, you're it!" A little hand batted at Kento's leg, and he flipped smoothly, spinning and jogging off into the garden after your niece. You stood, red faced, feeling your heartbeat between your legs, and wondering where to hide to cover your sha--

"You alright? Looking a bit..." Your brother-in-law walked into the kitchen, and finished weakly, unsure if he was about to inadvertently insult you. You smiled, flapping your hand at him.

"Hot," you gasped, "running round after this lot!" He smiled appreciatively, offering you a cup of your sister's deadly punch. You took a swig before holding it away from your lips, coughing.

"What the hell did she put in this?" You sputtered. Your brother-in-law looked sheepish, at least, on his wife's behalf.

"Everything, I think," he apologised, "Kento likes it, anyway--"

"Oh, he would," you snipped, before excusing yourself to the garden. Unable to spot Kento amongst the knights and princesses, your neck prickled, feeling distinctly hunted.

Staring from treehouse, to bouncy castle, to little wooden playhouse, to game of tag, you raised your cup to your mouth, ready to chug a mouthful of Dutch courage-- and you felt a long-fingered, enormous hand pluck the cup out of your grasp from behind, hearing Kento release a hum of satisfaction as he drained your punch in one gulp.

"Gorgeous punch," Kento drawled, slipping one foot between yours and one arm round your waist, "let's dip your tits in it and I can suck it right off."

Without warning, Kento hooked one of your legs from under you as you squeaked at him, and he took the opportunity to heroically catch you before you fell to the ground.

A small cluster of parents looked over to you both. Kento dusted you off, smiling at you, and gently chastising; "you shouldn't drink so much at a children's party, darling."

Your jaw dropped. Wordlessly, Kento abandoned you and hopped onto the bouncy castle with your niece; you sputtered at the faintly judgemental looks from the mothers beside you. Mortified, you moved to the party food table, pretending to organise plates to hide how flushed your face was, and how you had to clamp your legs together to stop the throbbing.

Turning round once you had calmed down, you felt Kento's arms cage you in against the table, just like the last party, and you gaped up at him in mute horror. Kento maintained eye contact, brown eyes twinkling as he reached round you, picking up an eclair from a plate of party cakes.

"Cream-filled," whispered Kento, taking a languid bite, whipped cream pouring from the end facing you. Kento chewed, leaning close to you as he swallowed, tongue darting out to lick cream off his lips, "my favourite."

You could have exploded, your whole body on fire with embarrassment and want. Nearby, your elderly great-aunt cooed as Kento appeared to lovingly offer you a bite of his pastry. You were silent, stunned; she reassured you.

"Don't mind me, dear, take a bite!"

"I'm-- I mean, uh--" you stuttered, and Kento smiled at your aunt, pulling you in sweetly by the hip.

"I think she's full, actually," Kento laughed with your aunt, smiling again as she walked off. Spinning back to face you, Kento's smile was gone and replaced by wolfish hunger again, "but not as full as you could be, all fucked-out on my cock, hmm?"

"Oh my god, Kento," you whimpered, face in your hands, now surrounded by children being invited to the table for lunch. Kento smiled, bending down to pass plates out, before pulling you aside again.

"Say it again," he growled, low and desperate, tucking your hair behind your ear, fingers lingering for a fraction too long, "but next time, I want it because I'm pulling your hair."

You ran, positively melting, in dire need of a hiding spot. Zipping through the kitchen, past the living room, you rounded the corner into the hallway, finding the nearest cupboard, and darting in.

No sooner had you reached up, pulling a little string to switch the light on...than a hand, strong and determined, closed around the doorframe, pulling Kento into view. You felt faint, both hands pressed over your mouth to stop yourself from audibly gasping.

Kento never once took his eyes off you, stepping into the narrow shelved cupboard, and reaching up for the light pull. The last thing you saw before being plunged into darkness, was Kento removing his tie.

Your senses heightened, you smelled Kento's cologne before feeling his lips on your neck, shamelessly sucking you, tasting you. Kento groaned, loud and shuddering, and he laughed as you slapped him on the chest. You felt him thrust loosely against your belly.

"I love parties," Kento lied, and you scoffed.

"You hate parties, Kento, you just love--"

"Fucking you with words before squirrelling you away somewhere?" His mouth moved lower, shifting your shirt and bra aside to pull your nipple into his mouth, hot and wet and sucking you just a little too hard, "Foreplay, darling."

You gasped, your fingers tangling in Kento's hair, his other hand making quick work of undoing your shorts. Idly slipping his hand inside and underneath your underwear, you bucked against his hand, Kento shivering with glee at your delicious wetness.

"Fuck yourself on my hand," he whispered, husky with restraint, "and we'll see who cums first, hmm? A little competition." You clapped a hand over your mouth as he curled two thick fingers inside you, so long that the edges tickled your cervix and you felt him in your belly.

The heel of Kento's hand pressed flush to your clit, and your hips stuttered as you rolled them against him, seeing stars with the friction, rutting down onto his fingers, holding him by the wrist.

Kento had already undone his trousers in the dark, and palmed his aching cock desperately inside his boxers. Whispering filth to you, sucking and releasing your breast into his mouth again and again with wet pops as he pinched your nipple between his lips, Kento wished he had more hands.

"Keep going-- fuck, good girl-- such a good girl--" he whispered, unable to stroke his cock for fear of cumming down your thigh, his head swimming with your velvety wet walls clenching around his fingers, using his hand as a toy to pleasure yourself.

Kento felt his high begin to creep down his spine, his balls clenching, biting lightly against your nipple and trying not to rip into you like a wild animal. As you felt your own orgasm creep closer, humping the heel of his hand, fucking his fingers as deep as they could reach for relief...Kento removed his hand with urgency.

"--can't-- can't hold back--" he shuddered, shunting down your underwear for better access, "--can't waste it--" Kento grabbed your hand, wrapping it round his twitching cock, and settled his weeping cockhead against your clit, keeping his other hand close.

Wrapping his fingers round yours, keeping himself pressed against your clit, Kento stroked himself fast, his groans building, until they tapered off into stuttering moans. You felt short, hot bursts of Kento's seed hit your clit, and fall into his other, waiting hand.

Kento shivered and swore to feel you rub his cockhead on your clit, using his cum as lube. He had gathered the rest of his cum, thick and white, on his fingers, and thrust them back inside you, not stopping until they grazed your cervix again. Positioning the heel of his palm against your clit again, Kento squeezed your thigh, pulling it forwards to encourage you to fuck his hand again.

You complied, Kento's seed giving you the lubrication you needed, pressing your aching pussy down around his fingers until you felt him deep in your belly again. Kento's mouth and other hand were full, busy with your breasts, kneading and massaging and pinching as he whispered encouragement to you.

"--got to cum-- suck it all up into you-- then I'll fuck it in even deeper--" Kento's drunk filth rolled off his tongue without a filter, going straight to your core, and your orgasm burned through you like wildfire.

Kento kissed you deeply, drinking your cries and whimpers down like liquor. Kento's strong hand thrust you through your ecstasy, feeling your pussy clench and suck against his fingers, leaving barely a trace of his cum behind.

Pulling his fingers out, Kento replaced his hand with his knee to keep you upright against the wall. In the dark, you blushed to hear the wet sucks of Kento licking his fingers clean.

"Ready?" He toned, low and devious.

"For wha--" With little warning, Kento lifted you against the wall, wrapping your legs around his waist, and pressing his half-hard cock into your pussy, still twitching from your recent orgasm.

Kento groaned into your neck, hot and squirming with overstimulation, letting your incoordinate shocked little thrusts suck his cock deeper, bringing it back to life. He felt himself twitch inside you, growing longer and harder as the blood rushed back.

Drunk on Kento's insistent need to fill you with his cum, you had tuned out the sounds of the party, letting Kento hold your weight and shuddering in delight as you felt his cock warm and swelling inside you. A change in the tone of voices beyond the cupboard snapped you to attention.

"Hide and seek!" cried a little voice in the garden, "You hide, and I'll count...one, two--" A flurry of little screams and footsteps came closer, into the house.

"Kento," you hissed panicking. Kento chuckled against your neck, rutting lazily into you, trembling with the bittersweet tang of overstimulation. Encouraging you to lock your hips round him, Kento looped his tie through the door handle, wrapping the tails around his hand and bringing it back to your arse you hold you up again.

"One more time," he moaned, suckling little red hearts into your skin, "I won't-- won't be long--"

Hearing Kento's wavering voice, so intoxicated by his need to fill you, you slipped two fingers down, shivering as you used the remnants of his cum to rub circles on your clit, deliberately squeezing your walls around Kento until he whimpered against you. Feeling you pleasure yourself around him had Kento reeling.

Kento began to lift you by the thighs, ramming you down onto his cock, now rock solid, and you muffled your squeals into his chest. You heard him growl, shuddering as you bit into his pecs, and it spurred him on to fuck you harder. Clinging on around his neck, Kento felt a rush of satisfaction as to your pussy quivered in response to his brutal pace.

"--so close--" he whined, his breaths hot and panting, fruity with the deadly punch that brought him to this, "--got to-- you first...fuck, so deep--" Kento's arms faltered, and you dropped deeper around his cock with a squeak, the jolt making you convulse with pleasure.

Kento came with a muted growl, biting into you, unable to press himself any deeper than he already was. Overtaken by the euphoria of feeling himself twitch and spurt inside you, hearing you trying to suppress your gasps, Kento thrust lazily into you, finally satisfied, panting as he came down from his high; you flopped against him, lost in delirious pleasure.

Your stomach dropped as you heard little voices outside the door. Kento held his tie taut as hands pulled at the handle, before declaring "it's locked!", the footsteps scurrying away. Kento chuckled into your neck, devious as you slapped at his chest again.

"You need to lie down," he whispered into you, helping you to dress yourself again, filled with anguish as he thought of his cum dripping out of you.

"I do need a lie down," you agreed, still giggling and love-drunk. Releasing the tie and taking you by the hand, Kento peered surreptitiously out of the doorway before spiriting you away to the living room. A set of little boys and girls, dressed incoordinately as princess-knights, sat playing with nail polish and make-up.

They looked up at you both as you approached, taking your rumpled appearances in as evidence of a really fun playtime.

Kento filled once more with wicked intent.

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Lying back on the sofa with cucumber over your eyes, your lips were pursed as your niece plastered them with sparkly lipstick.

Kento sat cross-legged on the floor beside you, fingers splayed, nails now covered with nail polish of pink and red and gold and--

"Where did they get this cucumber?" You asked, sniffing, frowning. Kento's jaw twitched, answering after thanking a blushing little girl for her wonderful manicure.

"Sandwiches."

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rene-spade · 4 months

Text

my man isn’t creepy! i | f1 grid

growing up leclerc au !

fem! leclerc! reader x f1 grid, leclerc family

part i: carlos sainz, daniel ricciardo, oscar piastri, pierre gasly & kika gomes

synopsis. when the youngest leclerc finds her partners’ ‘shrine’ of her, but she’s a leclerc so the red flags aren’t all that red

WARNING(s); i like em crazy y’all, obsessive/possessive behavior, implied stalking/shrines, unhealthy relationship dynamics, sexual implications but no smut

carlos sainz.

“What is it?” You asked, head tilted to the side as you look up at your boyfriend. The Spaniard melted, muttering a curse to himself and running his hands through his thick hair. He felt hot, nervous for what the outcome of this discussion could be.

“Dios mío, ángel, it’s— it is not what you think— nothing bad. I am just embarrassed is all.” He reassured, big hands gripping at your shoulders. But he knew it was a bit bad, even his enabling family members were worried he’d freak you out if you saw. His movements were made to comfort you, but you could tell they were more self-soothing. Arthur had a similar habit whenever you got upset with him, too.

You only frowned, but it fueled Carlos’ panic.

“Mi amor, I will do whatever you ask-! You know this. I will let you in when it’s cleaned, I swear it.” He pulled you into his chest, arms fully embracing you. But you squirmed out of his hold, making him respond with an unhappy attempt to coo you back into comfort.

“You’re hiding something in there, Carlos. This is the first time I’m staying with you in your home since we started dating, let me see.” And at the sight of your big, beautiful, angry eyes, how could he refuse an Angel? With a twitch of his fingers, Carlos unlocked the door without any movement to push it open.

With a short huff, you pushed yourself through the door, only pausing at seeing at the sheer amount of merchandise that covered every surface. It was all you-themed, from posters and cut-outs, down to a body-pillow and even an outfit you’d only worn once for a runway show. There was a glass shelf with your old perfumes, newer ones too, and photos everywhere.

“Carlos….” You began, covering your mouth with your fingers and stepping further in.

“I know—! But I liked you so much before we started seeing each other and I- I am just a passionate man is all, my whole family says so—!” You cut off his red-faced rambling with a beaming grin.

“Ouah! I didn’t know you were a super fan before we met!” You giggled, mumbling to yourself in French about the various things he’d collected. “maybe you are a bit extreme, but it’s kind of cute, no?”

“¿En serio? Sí, mi perla!” He breathed shakily before grinning, “I should have known you’d understand! Mis hermanas se burlaron de mí, ¿sabes? But it was all silly…” (You’re serious? Yes, my pearl! My sisters teased me, you know?)

“What are you saying? Your sisters… something? I’m still learning, mon chéri.” You pout at him, in a much better mood now that you knew what your boyfriend was hiding behind the door he seemed so desperate to keep you away from.

He shook his head, hair messy after having run his fingers through it many times due to stress, “We should have dinner with them tonight while we’re still in Spain, I said. Let’s go back downstairs?”

“Why? Got anything weird?”

“Don’t say things like that, amor!”

♤ ♤ ♤

daniel ricciardo.

“Danny…?”

“Shit-!” He jumped out of surprise, dropping the box he was reaching from the top shelf of the closet.

“Oh, I’m sorry, mon soleil!” You squeaked, jumping back as well. You hadn’t meant to scare him, but it wasn’t your fault he was so focused in the dead of night. You were just curious is all. The box he dropped was was rectangular in shape, but easily bigger than a shoebox. You shot him a sleepy grin, “What do you have there?”

He sighed, shaking his head, “Why are you up, sleepy girl? Get back to bed, I’ll be right there. Didn’t mean to wake you up.”

“I’m up because you’re up.” You wrinkled your nose, inching closer to him with a small blanket in your arms. You tried to get a glimpse of what fell out of the box, but Daniel wrapped himself around you so you couldn’t see. He wrestled the blanket from your fingers, careful not to be rough with long nails, and threw it over your head with smile.

As you wrestled, your boyfriend only laughed and placed kisses on any part of you he could without being hit by your flying limbs, “Pretty things like you should be asleep. Your brothers would kill me if they knew I disturbed your beauty rest.”

“Are you trying to hide something from me?” You pulled the blanket off your head, hair a mess.

Daniel froze, jaw clenching as he tried to hold a toothy smile. But he didn’t have it in him to lie to you. The moment was completely still, before you finally broke eye contact and crept passed him to see the mess on the floor. You could hear Danny gulp as you plucked the first item from the ground; a pretty, navy blue set of lacy underwear. Yours, yes. But from ages ago, you swore you lost them. Then there were a few pieces of jewelry, a lipstick tube, a silk scrunchie, a press-on nail, a red heel, and two pieces of now-hardened chewing gum. All yours from various points of this past year.

“Daniel,” no, not the first name, he begged internally, squeezing his eyes shut, deciding to just wait for the inevitable disgust and rejection. You never called him by his full first name, only sweet ‘danny’s his way, sometimes ‘mon soleil’ or ‘sunshine’.

“You know you can just ask for my things, yes? You don’t have to take.” You were looking right up at him, navy colored panties still in your hand like you didn’t even mind that he took them. His reasoning couldn’t have been pure, you know that.

You hummed, pulling at his fingers so you can shove the underwear into his balled up fist, “lá.”

“Perfect girl.” He muttered, pulling you back into him and dragging you to bed, “give me the pair you have on then, yeah?”

♤ ♤ ♤

max verstappen.

It wasn’t always like this with you— you used to be just Charles “track terror” Leclerc’s pretty little sister, a little girl. But now it was years later and you’ve become something perfect and irresistible— something he can’t live without. He knows he’d resorted to some immoral, if not a little creepy, behaviors, but it’s not like he’s one of those guys that would ever hurt you. No, you’re a deity to him. He told his sister about his feelings at one point (even thought about showing her the shrine), but she told him— “This is all because you watched You!” The Netflix show that follows a stalker.

So he took down the shrine— moving most of it into his bedside drawer and the rest under his bed. But he realized he didn’t think it all the way through when he had you in his room for the first time; all pretty and perfect and curious.

“Good race, Maxie.” You hopped back onto the bed, your hair bouncing as you landed, “You’re so tense and for what, huh?”

Max had just a little bit of shame about the whole thing, but maybe not too much. I mean, his body definitely felt some kind of physical guilt or something if you’re judging him by the shaking and sweating— but his mind was happy. You were here with him in his home. In fact, the physical reaction might just be from seeing you curled up in his bed. But you’re close to finding out how… intense he was. (As his mother would say.)

“Sorry, lief, I’m just tired and you’re distracting me by being cute.” He smiled down at you as he began to change, “you need a shirt to wear?”

“Yes, s'il te plaît. Hey, can I put my bracelets in here—? oh!” He’d barely turned his back for a second, just long enough to remove his shirt, but that’s all it took for you to pull the drawer open and see the copious amount of photos of you (some edited to have him in them) and unsent love letters.

“It’s not a shrine— I’m not a creep! It’s just some things I made back before we got together—! You weren’t supposed to see them!” He was trying to shove some of the papers back in, but you were already skimming one of the letters.

“Mijn hart,” he winced at seeing the one you had— one of the more unhinged ones. The worst of it was in Dutch, so that worked out for him at least.

“Oh c’mon, Maxie! It’s kind of sweet! You had such a big crush on me! It’s a little hot, even.”

He grew even more red and fidgety at that, “Shit.”

You giggled at the words you could understand before he wrestled the page out of your grip. You grabbed him and pressed a kiss to his cheek before he could stray too far.

“From Max Verstappen-Leclerc, hm?”

♤ ♤ ♤

oscar piastri.

“Can’t I just grab a hoodie, Osc?” You questioned as he held you in place on the counter, from his spot between your legs, still in his race suit.

“You don’t need one, Lovey, it’s hot.” He pressed himself into you so he could feel you breathe better. You’d asked for a jacket the moment you’d entered his freezing trailer just after the race. He saw you go for the closet and quickly redirected you onto the counter.

“Non, you’re hot because you just raced in a little car for hours and now you’re all over me. I am normal temperature.”

“Cold?”

“Yes.”

“Then get closer, I’m hot.”

You huff obnoxiously like the pretty spoiled girl you are and Oscar can feel the rush of serotonin he got just from the sound. He knew this is the part where you’d get cute and pretend to pick a fight, his sweet thing. But bad timing— he’s desperate to hide his secret now.

“I can’t get any closer to you if I trieddd. What? You have a girl hiding in that closet? Hm?” He scoffed into your shoulder, but stiffened, knowing just what was behind that door.

You gasped dramatically, likely playing it up to get what you wanted (a tactic you used with your brothers, Oscar noticed), “You do! Irréelle!”

“I don’t!” His face shot up from your shoulder, brows furrowed, but he didn’t let you go, “You know I don’t like any other girls!”

“Then you need to show me so I can be sure! And I’m still cold.” You crossed your arms and pulled your knees together to get him to back up.

“I can’t.” He choked out. “There’s— it’s just— I have this thing—”

You hopped down and booked it across the trailer before he could reach out and stop you, yanking the door open to see what your new boyfriend was hiding.

You breathed out a dramatic sigh of relief at the sight, “Goodness, Osc.” Rather than finding a person, you instead found some sort of… collection? Collage of yourself and your things? Photos mostly, magazines, and lots of hearts drawn on articles about you.

Oscar grabbed you by the shoulders and quickly spun you around into him, slamming the door, “You saw?”

Looking up at him with big eyes, you nodded, “Yeah, why? You really like me that much?”

“What? Yes— yeah I do. You—? Okay.”

♤ ♤ ♤

pierre gasly. | kika gomes.

“I’m prepared to blame you for this if Charles finds it.” Pierre breathed, looking at the start of his girlfriend’s collection of your things. Kika scoffed, a smile playing at her lips as she re-organizes your makeup. Mostly lip balms, you’d let her borrow some of your things, not knowing she wasn’t going to give any of it back. Kika even managed to get a few skirts from you as well. The small framed photo of you sitting in her vanity was just a personal touch.

Pierre would be lying if he said he wasn’t impressed, but he could say he wasn’t surprised. He and Kika were a good couple, a good duo in general, but especially when it came to drawing you in. Because Pierre was such a good friend to Charles, it came pretty easy; Charles was easier on him around you. Unfortunately, that grace didn’t extend to Kika just because they were dating. Charles had something of a sixth sense for when pretty girls liked his pretty sister; so he was on to Kika. Where at the beginning it was nothing to get you alone with them, it was now next to impossible.

“Pierre? Kika? Are you home?” Wow it’s like they could hear your pretty voice— oh wait they gave you a key. To their apartment. In Monaco, where you live and you can really just waltz in and see all of the things they took (—yes they, Pierre is a thief too—)

Like two naughty school children, the couple shot up to cover what they’d done before you could reach their bedroom. This was their fault naturally, none of yours at all, they were the ones who encouraged you to come over whenever physically possible.

“Grab everything and I’ll distract her!” Kika whispered, rushing to slip out of the room.

Before the ‘not fair-’ could slip from his lips, his girlfriend was off to catch you, brushing passed him and leaving the door cracked. He could hear your surprised greeting, a cute squeak escaping you, before Kika saying something like ‘Oh, Pierre is busy now’, then silence. Pulling the handle back just an inch, he peaked outside to see Kika’s lips not even a centimeter from your own, her hands gripping your jacket for dear life.

“Oh, pretty girls, ce n'est tout simplement pas juste.” Slipped out of his mouth before he could stop it. Your eyes shot to his, but Kika’s remained trained on your face. After just a second, your gaze drifted to Kika’s vanity behind him.

The couple froze, you saw. Pierre pulled the door shut behind him as Kika’s mouth opened to form words.

“Oi! Get your hands off my little sister, huh? Démon impoli et pratique, seriously.” Charles slipped into the living room from the front hallway, having obviously accompanied his little sister in her visit.

“Non, Charlie, Kika helped me when I almost tripped.” You smiled at your brother, quickly covering for them, “I was just coming to see if I could get my jean skirt back?”

You looked up at her so sweet and she thinks you’re blushing—“Oh.” She squeaked, “yes, no problem. Pierre.”

“I’ll get it for her, mate.”

“surveille ta copine. je ne suis pas aveugle, mate.”

♤ ♤ ♤

Your man (s girlfriend) is definitely creepy, girl.

note; I made kika and pierres a lil longer bc they’re two ppl so yeah ft charles

thinking part ii with lando, mick (ft the schumachers), lewis, lance, alex & lily, george and carmen?

- ren

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augustinewrites · 9 months

Text

once shoko opens her door, you offer her a half-hearted smile and hold up your bottle of wine. if there’s one person you can count on to help drink your feelings away, it’s—

“i actually can’t tonight,” she sighs. “i have an exam tomorrow and i already had a few drinks so…”

“wait, shoko—” you catch the edge of the door, sighing as you admit, “i think satoru is cheating on me.”

she pauses for a second, as if checking to see if you’re serious.

then, “you open that up. i’ll get the glasses.”

“thanks,” you grin, following her inside.

“do you need anything else?” she calls from the kitchen. “a hug? baseball bat? an alibi?”

“no need for glasses, and we don’t need the other stuff…yet,” you grimace, twisting the cap off the bottle and taking a swig, kicking the door shut behind you. “and i don’t know for sure that he’s cheating, but he’s just been so weird lately.”

“weird how?” your friend asks, pushing aside the textbooks she has open on the couch cushions before gesturing for the bottle. “it’s gojo, you’ve gotta be more specific.”

you hand her the tequila, shaking your head. “it was small things at first. showing up late for dates or just cancelling them. not telling me where he’s been all day. then last night i saw this text on his phone…”

shoko’s brows raise. “you were looking at his messages?”

“no!” you exclaim. then, when your best friend sends you a look, “okay, i didn’t mean to! he left his phone on the nightstand while he was in the shower and i looked at it when it buzzed with a text from someone named megumi.”

“oh,” shoko realizes, eyes widening. “that’s a girl’s name.”

you both sit in silence for a moment, passing the bottle back and forth. your phone buzzes a few times in your pocket - undoubtedly satoru asking why you’ve been avoiding him all day - but you ignore it.

“let’s confront him,” shoko proposes once you’re halfway through the bottle. “find out once and for all.”

“okay!” by now, you’re buzzed enough to think this is a brilliant idea, standing on unsteady legs as shoko calls for a cab.

_____

“hey,” your boyfriend smiles weakly once he opens the door. “wait, what’s shoko doing—”

“where is she?” she asks, pushing past the both of you to walk into his apartment. she begins flipping up couch cushions and checking behind curtains.

“what’s going on?” satoru asks, letting you push him inside. he looks down at you, concern clouding his expression. “what’s she talking about?”

you’re not sure if it’s liquid courage or frustration that causes you to blurt, “are you cheating on me?”

“what? of course not—”

“then who’s megumi?”

“he is toji’s six year son!”

your eyes widen. shoko freezes, halfway through opening a cabinet.

toji…had a son? “so he’s a— a—”

“he’s a zen’in,” your boyfriend confirms. it’s as if all the air leaves your lungs when he says that, catching in your throat. “his mom passed, and after toji…i couldn’t just leave him alone. apparently toji made some deal to sell the kid to the zen’in clan, and i didn’t want…so i filed for guardianship.”

“guardianship,” you echo. “you’re planning to raise the kid on your own?

“his sister too.”

“i’m gonna go get a cab home. let you two talk,” shoko laughs nervously, speeding out the door.

satoru walks over to the couch once she’s gone, sitting the edge and hiding his face in his hands. “i’d get it, you know.”

“get what?” you ask, sitting next to him.

“you didn’t sign up for this,” he sighs. “taking in two kids— it’s a lot. but i couldn’t do nothing. he’s going to need someone to help him. teach him. care about him. so he doesn’t end up like…”

he doesn’t finish his sentence. you don’t make him. even after a few years, the heartache of losing your friend causes a dull ache in your chest.

though…he’s right that you didn’t sign up for any of this. kids were the furthest thing from your mind at this stage of your life, not to mention this stage of your relationship.

but if satoru, who is barely an adult himself, can find it in his heart to do what you know in your mind is the right thing…

“then i guess it’ll make the next few years of our lives pretty exciting,” you sigh, resting your head on his shoulder.

“our lives?” he repeats, sounding shocked. “you’re…staying?”

you draw back to meet his pensive gaze, though it melts away when you offer him a small smile. you see him in this moment.

so you cup his face in your hands, thumb softly stroking his cheek. “you didn’t think i would want to stay?”

“i hoped,” he murmurs, lips brushing against the inside of your wrist. “but i didn’t know for sure.”

“well, i’m not going anywhere,” you assure him, kissing the tip of his nose. “even if you’re a monumental pain in my ass.”

#i started this in dec 2021 omg #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #keeping up with the fushigojos

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harrysbelovedd · 1 month

Text

the kook's girl [rafe cameron]

pairing - rafe cameron x kook reader

summary - being the only girl in the kook friend group, you were always taken care of. especially since you and rafe started dating four months ago. safe to say, everyone on the island knew not to mess with you if they valued their life at all. so, when the tourons came to town in the summer, the kook boys always got their bit of fun.

warnings - swearing, fighting, just our fav protective!rafe

"Sarah, it's our song!" She slurred, grabbing onto her best friend's hand, pulling her onto the dance floor.

Rafe and Sarah are never on good terms, but Rafe knows no matter how much he hates his sister, she'll always be his girl's best friend. He's grateful for it sometimes, as annoying as it can be, it's just one more person who cares about her and is always looking out for her when Rafe can't be.

But tonight, as both kook girls are drunk off their asses, Rafe keeps a close eye. He spots John B doing the same from across the club as he sits next to Kiara, still keeping a close eye on his girl, Sarah.

Rafe sits in a booth at the club, nursing a glass of whiskey in his palm. Topper and Kelce sit next to him, talking about things he could not care less about at the moment. For example, the girls on the dance floor they want to take home, golf, etc.

No, Rafe's attention is solely on the girl who lights up the dance floor in her sparkly pink dress which Rafe bought for her just three days prior. Her gold necklace with the letter 'R' hanging from her neck shines brightly as the club lights hit it. Her baby pink kitten heels travel her elegantly across the floor as her arm remains tightly latched onto Sarah's as they dance in tune.

He barely even notices the slight smile etched onto his lips in affection as he takes a slow sip from his glass.

"Yo!"

Rafe's attention is abruptly moved from his girl to his dumbass friends as Topper pulls on his white half-way unbuttoned shirt.

"What?" Rafe spits, rolling his eyes at their antics.

"Tourons, 12 o'clock." Topper warns.

"What the fuck? I think they're looking at Y/n and Sarah, man." Kelce points out, suddenly sitting up straighter as they both snap out of their previous conversations to keep an eye on the situation.

This catches his attention as he clocks the three sun burnt tourists waltzing in wearing khaki shorts, polos, and flip flops. Idiots. He notices one of them point in Y/n's direction as the other's snicker, laughing as they spoke to each other.

Rafe’s eyes dart back to Y/n, oblivious as ever, in her own little world.

"I've almost been waiting to pick a fight," He confesses. "Just wait till they get too close."

The three morons make their way in the direction of Y/n. One particular guy, wearing a blue tropical button up, comes up behind Y/n, tapping her shoulder. Rafe is just close enough to overhear the conversation.

“Hey, I’m Ethan,” he smirks, hungry eyes looking her up and down.

She turns around, her smile slightly fading at his stare. “Um, hi.” She spins back around, grabbing onto Sarah.

“You two are pretty little things, out here by yourselves.” He chuckles, his hand moving to her shoulder.

“You gonna go out there man?” Topper asks, getting anxious for the girls.

“No, just wait. I want a real excuse to kill em’.” Rafe responds, his fists clenching.

Ethan’s grimy hands near Y/n’s neck, his index finger latching onto her gold ‘R’ necklace. “What’s your name, hm? R…?”

“You’re gonna regret that,” Y/n whispers, her eyes meeting Rafe.

Rafe stands, marching over to Ethan. Rafe’s fist latches onto the back of his collar, pulling him back as Y/n’s necklace slips from his grasp. Rafe turns him around, knocking a punch to his jaw, blood spurting from his lips onto Rafe’s face.

Rafe lets go aggressively, the boy falling to the ground forcefully. Rafe smirks, his ringed hand coming up to wipe Ethan’s blood from his jaw. “The ‘R’ stands for Rafe. Her boyfriend.” He states before knocking one more punch to the boy’s cheek.

“I-I’m sorry,” He pathetically whimpers, begging for mercy.

“She clearly had zero fucking interest in you, yet you continued,” He chuckles. Rafe leans down, pulling Ethan’s neck up by his collar. “You better hope your flight out of here is tomorrow morning. If not, watch your back man.”

Topper and Kelce come into view, peering at the man below Rafe, only inciting more fear into the poor tourist. Ethan’s two friends quickly pull him up, scattering out of the club as fast as they can.

Rafe turns to Y/n, his demeanor immediately turning soft, a side of himself only she gets to see. “You okay, baby?” He asks, his eyes scanning over her face for any discomfort.

“I’m okay, just some asshole tourist.” She rolls her eyes, manicured fingers grasping onto her necklace.

His eyes flick down to her hand, she only fidgets with her necklace when she’s uncomfortable or nervous. He feels more rage and anger boil up inside him thinking about how that guy ruined her night of fun with Sarah.

“Wanna go home, baby?” Rafe whispers softly, fingers pushing her hair behind her ears.

She bites her lip in debate, turning toward her friend Sarah. Sarah nods her head, “It’s okay, I’m gonna have John B take me back to his place too, it’s getting late anyway.”

“Yeah, okay, let’s go home. I’ll text you Sarah, we can hang out tomorrow, yeah?” Y/n feels guilty, her and Sarah haven’t gotten to spend as much time together ever since she started dating John B and hanging out with his friends more.

Y/n had nothing against the pogues, she thought the rivalry was stupid and childish. She actually found them quite nice, but she spends every minute with her best friends, Rafe, Topper, and Kelce.

Rafe slings his arm around her shoulder after giving his goodbyes to Topper and Kelce, walking you to his truck. He opens the door for you without a word, buckling you in and shutting the door.

When he gets in on his side, starting the truck, he looks over at his girl at her sad eyes. “What’s wrong, angel?”

She sniffles, “I just miss Sarah. Wanted to hang out with her tonight but those guys ruined it.”

Rafe’s hand slips around her thigh, patting it lovingly. “I know, hon. I’m sorry. I’ll make sure Sarah gets her ass off the cut tomorrow to hang out with you, okay?”

She smiles, her hand finding comfort atop Rafe’s. “I love you.”

“I love you more,” he leans over, pressing a gentle kiss to her cheek.

#rafe cameron imagines #rafe cameron #outerbanks rafe #outer banks #obx fic #rafe obx #rafe cameron fluff #protective rafe #rafe x reader

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voidpetrova · 9 months

Text

best friend's brother — jeremy gilbert x reader

a/n: this is a requested fic, but i lost the inbox that was sent to me :( so here's a big shoutout to the sweetheart that requested a smutty BFB!jeremy fic, bless their heart <3

☄. *. ⋆

content warnings and genre: clichés, mutual pining, jealousy, p in v sex, unprotected sex, size kink, soft sex, slight degradation — smut

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

synopsis: your best friend's brother is the one for you, punk rock drummer and he's 6'2

✧.*

girlhood thrived in its purest form in the quiet, cozy confines of elena gilbert's room. the two of you were ensconced in an atmosphere of comfort, sporting matching pajamas—tank tops and shorts—a testament to the close bond you shared. you'd spent countless nights like this, painting your nails vibrant shades of red and talking about everything and nothing at all, all while the dulcet tones of green day provided the perfect backdrop.

tonight was no exception, and the room was bathed in a soft, warm glow from the fairy lights strung across the walls. elena's laughter filled the air as you swapped stories, occasionally sipping from your martini glasses. ot was a time when worries melted away, and you cherished these moments of simplicity.

just as you were discussing the latest school gossip, the door creaked open, and jeremy gilbert slipped inside. he claimed he was looking for a book, but it was no secret that he often used any excuse to check you out. elena, always the protective older sister, shot him a playful glare. you and jeremy had been seeing each other rather discreetly, but had yet to put a label on whatever it was you were doing. you did your best to hide it from elena, due to the unwanted presence of awkward tension and tense family game nights that were sure to follow.

“jeremy, seriously? can't you see we're having a girls' night?” elena chided, but there was a twinkle of amusement in her eyes. he pretended innocence, his lips curling into a half-smile. “sorry, just passing through. carry on, ladies.”

as he lingered for a moment, elena decided it was the perfect time to drop a little bombshell into your conversation. “oh, by the way, tyler lockwood has been asking about you.” jeremy's scoff was almost immediate, and he couldn't resist adding a snarky comment. “tyler lockwood, really? what's he after now?”

elena raised an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued. “jeremy, are you jealous?” she teased. he blushed slightly, but vehemently denied it. “of course not. i just think he's not the right guy for (y/n).”

with a sly grin, elena decided to stir the pot further. “well, (y/n), maybe you should give ty a chance. what do you say?” jeremy excused himself from the room, muttering something about needing to find that book. but before he left, his eyes locked onto you, his jealousy thinly veiled behind a casual facade.

after elena drifted off to sleep during a particularly dramatic scene in twilight, you felt the way your phone buzzed softly. it was a message from jeremy, and the anticipation of sneaking away to his room sent a thrill through you. you tiptoed out of elena's room, careful not to wake her, and made your way to jeremy's. as you entered his room, he greeted you with a sly smile. “so, tyler lockwood, huh? you really considering going out with him?”

you couldn't help but chuckle at his obvious jealousy. “oh, come on, jer. you're not fooling anyone. you're totally jealous.” jeremy feigned innocence once more, but his eyes betrayed him. “me? jealous? please.”

you moved closer, enjoying this playful banter. “i think you're just worried that tyler might steal me away.” he rolled his eyes, a grin tugging at his lips. “as if anyone could.”

you laughed as you playfully poked his chest. “well, maybe you should be more convincing next time.”

jeremy's expression softened, and he pulled you closer. “you know i don't want anyone else. i just can't stand the thought of you with someone like tyler.” you leaned in, brushing your lips against his. “don't worry, jeremy. you're the only one i want.”

your words were convincing—convincing enough for him to finally press his lips against yours, the hours of built-up tension finally exploding. one of his hands dropped to cup your cheek, a subtle way to pull you in closer, your lips melting into one another with a sweet tenderness, while his other freely trailed down your collarbone, tracing the delicate structure of your body, caressing your neck and throat before sweetly dropping down to the valley of your breasts. for a split second, he felt his eyes open. he couldn't control himself, he just had to look at you, admiring the way your tits were peeking from your tank top—the one that was just a bit too tight and a bit too revealing.

a wave of possessiveness crashed over him, even when he shut his eyes once more. he couldn't bear to imagine anybody, let alone tyler lockwood, getting their hands on someone as perfect as you. he couldn't imagine someone admiring you the way he did—not your face, your mannerisms, let alone the way your tits were out for him, or how your ass was arched back, peeking through the incredibly short shorts. it made him furious, and he let you know it.

“you're so fucking perfect,” he murmured as he pulled away from the kiss, the taste of vodka and mint lingering on his tongue as he dropped down to your neck, attacking the sensitive skin with his lips as teeth as he grabbed your hair, pulling you further into his touch. “won't let anyone else have you.” his words made you shiver, practically. your own hands found themselves tangling into the threads of his silky, dark hair as you moaned his name.

he loved every second of it. he knew it the second he saw you, and all he could do was savor you. his lips left brutal marks on your neck, providing you with an excellent problem to deal with before elena woke up. they travelled down to the valley of your breasts, nipping at your tits through the thin material of your top. all the material did was piss him off, arousing growls at the unnecessary barrier of clothing. he practically tore it off, leaving you in nothing but the incredibly slutty shorts. “jer,” you whined, glossy eyes locking with his as he continued to toy with your breasts, fingertips twirling your nipples as he licked at the fat. “elena's gonna kill me.”

he didn't pay much attention to the future consequences of your doing. “it's all good, baby,” he muttered quietly, the rough surface of his tongue drawing circles into your nipple, before sliding down your stomach gracefully. he only stopped to discard his own clothing. “just another reason to get you into my clothes, so what?”

you didn't even have time to laugh, not while he was in front of you, body seeming to have been sculpted by greek gods. you admired his toned muscles, the way his biceps were bigger than your head, and the way his stomach carried muscles that hinted at hard work—blood, sweat, and tears put into transforming his frame. “almost like you're afraid to touch me.” he taunted, but he knew you weren't. not with the ways your hands subconsciously caressed his frame, small hands wrapping around his biceps and tracing his abs. he was so much bigger than you, and he absolutely loved it.

you knew it the minute he started fucking you—he was truly twice your size. with his throbbing, long cock splitting your tiny, tight pussy open, you knew it. he knew the moans that left your mouth, however a turn-on, were also a potential danger, threatening to awaken elena from her peaceful slumber. his hand covered your mouth, your eyes shutting tight at the way he fucked you, nice and hard. you bit down on his hand, similarly to how your pussy clenched his pulsating dick, and he felt as if he were about to lose it.

“so fucking tight,” he attempted to silence his own moans, speaking through pants and gasps as his gaze dropped to your swollen cunt, greedy and desperate as he watched the way it swallowed him whole. it made him want to ruin you in the best way possible. “who's my greedy little girl, huh?” you whined at the pressure, at the way his words sent slick down his shaft, and he damn well noticed it. his free hand dropped to your lower stomach, pressing against it as he fucked himself deeper into your slippery cunt, the juices threatening to slip his dick out of you completely. he watched the way he could practically feel himself in your stomach, your tight little pussy barely taking what he had to give to you. it encouraged him to fuck you as he leaned back, giving you all the more of his cock.

your eyes rolled into the back of your head at the sensation, his balls the only part of him that had yet to slip into you. “too much, jer,” you whined against his palm, but it was too much for him, too. he knew he was close, watching the way your tits bounced with every forceful thrust of his, the way yours thighs shook under his touch, and the way your pussy fluttered, barely allowing him to pull out. he knew he was done for.

in fact, there was no way he was pulling out, but the two of you were too entranced to care about it. his thrusts grew more sloppy and desperate, hips pounding into your pelvis as he chased his own orgasm. his fingers finally left your mouth, your moans under nobody's control but your own as he rubbed at your clit gently, thumbing the wet and sensitive bundle of nerves as he continued to pound into you. you were close, and he knew it.

it was the first time you had came at the same time. you felt the way hot, thick spurts of cum shot into your wet, sweet cunt, and at the same time, your own orgasm washed over you, juices flooding out of you, coating his angry cock as moans left your mouths, the ability to control yourselves long gone. he pressed his forehead onto yours, placing sloppy kisses onto your lips as his cum pooled inside you, unable to slip out of you as his dick softened from inside your pussy. there was truly no way for you to feel empty with jeremy by your side.

“does this mean you won't go out with tyler?” his hands pushed away your loose strands of hair, ones that had been tainted with sweat and saliva. you smiled, small fingers wrapping around his wrists as you placed a sweet kiss to his palm.

“no, actually, my best friend's brother is the one for me.”

#tvd #the vampire diaries #tvd smut #tvd angst #tvd fluff #the vampire diaries smut #the vampire diaries angst #the vampire diaries fluff #jeremy gilbert #jeremy gilbert imagine #jeremy gilbert fluff #jeremy gilbert fanfiction #jeremy gilbert x reader #jeremy gilbert smut #jeremy x reader #jeremy gilbert angst #best friend's brother #bfb #i love jeremy gilbert

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jallerentrags · 2 months

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Better than him.

James Potter x Reader, based on 'Boyfriend' by Dove Cameron.

James Potter thought of himself as a lucky man.

He had everything he wanted: Good grades, good friends, a good life. The only thing he wanted, which he worried he might never have, was you.

Y/n Cassiopeia Black, twin sister to the elusive and handsome Regulus Black. But despite being at the same school, and being best mates with your older brother, the space between the both of you was almost impossible to cross. You were cold and indifferent - sticking with your friends and Regulus - and avoided James like the plague. You rarely spoke, supposedly scorned by his theft of your older brother, and when you did converse, it was usually under the watchful eyes of Charles Nott, your betrothed.

At the age of 16, you had been auctioned and sold to the highest bidder, wrapped in his vice like grip. James watched from the side-lines as the eyes that used to shine like her brother's name-sake, faded.

He had tried to become besotted with Lily, a beautiful and intelligent girl, but it was futile. Your power over him was strong, his urge to move on with Lily too weak. But a strong friendship between the Head Boy and Girl did blossom, so James ended up ranting to Lily about his situation.

“James I don’t know what to say. Y/n is one of the most prized girls in school and her circle is small. Your best bet to get her attention is to ask Sirius to introduce you,” Lily paused to brush her long hair out of her eyes and behind her shoulder with a thoughtful look, “Of course, that’s if she’s willing to speak to Sirius, I don’t think I’ve seen them together since last year.”

James sighed. He already knew that you had closed yourself off after losing your brother, and he grimaced thinking about how hurt you must feel. He knew that Sirius was still mourning his loss as heir to the House of Black, and heard him crying at night when his ache for his little siblings grew too heavy.

“I know,” James fiddled with his glasses, face heating up. “Maybe it’s best if I just leave it. It’s a pipe dream that a girl like that would ever go for a guy like me.” James moved to pick up his books from the library table and head to his dorm, mood low. Lily gasped and slapped his hand away.

“Definitely not! I remember Remus telling me that you two were completely smitten and oblivious to it despite belonging to rival houses. The James Potter should definitely not give up this easily,” Lily’s brows were lowered in an expression of seriousness, her lips thin, “I’ve got an idea. You know the Christmas Ball is this weekend?”

Of course James knew the Christmas Ball was this weekend. The whole school had been preparing for it since it was announced early November, a night of bliss and relaxation to temporarily ignore the deteriorating state of the outside World. James’ parents had already sent him his dress robes, and he saw that last Tuesday you had received a large parcel in the mail which he guessed must of been your dress.

“Yes, but I don’t see why that matters? She’ll be going with Charles. He proposed in August.” James spat, anger lacing into his words. Lily merely rolled her eyes and huffed.

“So? Steal her away! Ask her to dance and charm her! I’m sure it won’t be that difficult, it’s not as if she’s in love with Nott,” Lily placed her hands on the table and leaned towards him, “She’ll definitely leave him for you, she’s always been sympathetic towards muggle-born’s and I heard her talking about how she wishes she didn’t have to marry Nott. Give her a reason, Be her reason, and she’ll leave her supremacist family and be with you.” James scoffed and leaned back in his chair, watching as Lily reclined also.

“I don’t think it’ll be that easy. She loves Regulus and she fits the role as ‘Slytherin’s Princess’ perfectly. I don’t want to put myself out there for her if she’s already too far gone.”

“Believe me. She’s not. People don’t look at each other like you two do.” Lily smiled at him, certainty blazing in her emerald eyes, “You could be her new beginning, and I really think she wants that. She loves Regulus and she always will, but I know that he would value her happiness and I doubt that she wouldn’t love to have a reason to escape,” Lily’s hand reached over to James’ and clasped it, “I really believe that you two would work. I want to see you happy James, please trust me.”

James’ lips formed a smile, and he felt hope blare in his chest. If Lily, the smartest girl he knew, believed that he stood a chance, then he had faith. He squeezed her hand and stood up, collecting his books and shoving them into his bag.

“I trust you, now watch me get my girl.”

————————————————————————-

The Great Hall looked beautiful, you thought, as you entered. The ceiling showcased a clear starry sky, and the decorations shone and sparkled in the candle light. Ice sculptures decorated the corners, and 12 great circle tables surrounded a square dance floor and far off, adjacent the teachers table, was a long buffet and drinks table laden with Honeydukes delights and crisp pumpkin juice. Charles, your financeé, gripped your hand tighter and dragged you to a table with his friends, only slightly admitting how beautiful you looked in your F/c gown. Charles' friends briefly acknowledged you (with a few appreciative eyebrow raises) before ignoring your presence entirely. Across the room, you spotted your older brother and his friends, who hadn't seemed to notice your entrance just yet. Sirius looked remarkable like always, a classic example of the Black families striking looks. Even Remus looked quite handsome in his robes, and Peter had cleaned up nicely. Admittedly, you thought, James looked incredibly good in his robes and had caught your eye as soon as you entered the Great Hall. His robes were tailored to his fit physique perfectly, and his hazel eyes shone with excitement. Although he hadn't managed to tame his hair, you secretly appreciated how well it framed his face.

"Admiring the blood traitor, Y/n?" Rosier, one of Charles' close friends, scoffed. You turned back to the table, missing James' look your way, and shot a smile in Rosier's direction.

"Of course not," you replied, entangling your arm from Charles' grip, "But you have to admit that he does look very enjoyable in his robes." you smirked, watching as Charles' face contorted into a sneer. He made to grab for you, already muttering about your incompetence with an extremely angry look on his face. He wrapped his hand around your arm hard, pulling you close enough to whisper in your ear. Despite being pulled into his side, his body still angled away from you, like you didn't matter at all. From across the hall, you wondered whether it looked like it was a lover's embrace. It was anything but. You spared no love for Charles, and it was no secret. Rosier and the others all sniggered, slurs tumbling from their lips and their faces a mixture of disgust and outrage.

"Y/n, you should watch your mouth. You don't want people thinking that you agree with your mutt of a brother, do you?" Charles asked, his face settling into a blank stare. Your brows lowered and your lips curled, before quickly schooling features once more. You simply hummed, avoiding Charles' eyes. "Now run along to Regulus. I'll come to you when I need you." He unwrapped his hand from your arm and pushed you away, before turning back to his group. You wondered through Hall, greeting friends, before making a bee-line for your twin. The dancing had begun, a light tempo that sent couples soaring over the floor. You watched in admiration, the way they held each other, looking into each others eyes like no one else existed, souls mingling and stretching across the floor. You wished you could be swept along the floor, lost in the steps and the feel of your partners hands. The partner you imagined never had the Nott green eyes and cigar scented yellowed palms, he always had the face of your older brother's best friend.

From behind you, you heard somebody cough to catch your attention, and you turned on your heel to come face to face with James Potter, watching his already huge smile grow wider. His hands were in his trouser pockets, his body angled towards you so completely that you couldn't even acknowledge other's brushing up against you.

"I can't believe we're finally alone, I've been trying to catch you since you arrived, you look so beautiful," James revealed, blush drifting across his cheeks, "I almost went back up to the dorm."

"Well that would've been a shame, Potter" you smiled back, easing towards him, "I was hoping to see you on the dance floor."

James laughed, a sound that sent shudders down your spine and took his hand out of his pocket to push up his glasses that had fallen down his nose. "What are the chances? I wanted to see you on the dance floor too," James squared his shoulders and cleared his throat "Everyone's dancing, yet you aren't, somebody that I know is stuck by dance fever frequently, and he's not with you," James leaned forward and smirked, "the Universe must of divined us, little Black, it looks like we're destined to dance together tonight."

You could almost see the thoughts fly across his face as he grabbed your wrist before you could even object, pulling you towards the dance floor. The music had changed to a sweet, mouldable beat, sweeping partners across the floor in unique waltzes and dips. James positioned you on the floor, a large hand leaving a burning touch on you waist and the other slipping into you awaiting hand as you breathlessly laughed. Your hands fit together perfectly, just like his hand rested so perfectly on the curve of your waist. He started leading, smiling down at you as though you placed the stars in the sky, a twinkle in his bespectacled eyes. You followed readily, returning his smile and placing you hand on his shoulder, heat building and spreading under your dress at your close contact.

You were flying, soaring, just two people in a sea of revellers. You didn't slip from his gaze, totally unfettered, lost in him. You never stumbled, never faltered, you recalled every conversation, every lingering glance, every lasting touch, knowing you were utterly enthralled. James looked the same, captivated by your presence, stuck in your energy. You saw the words bubble in him, and your heart soared when he stopped biting his tongue.

"Y/n," he whispered, drawing you closer, his face a picture intimacy, "I could be a better boyfriend than him," you sucked in air, but didn't draw from his arms. James tightened his grip on your hip as you looked deeply into his eyes, "I could do all the shit that he never does," he flared his fingers against your waist, "I'll stay up all night for you, I won't quit. I'm thinking that I'm going to steal you from him," he dropped his head to press against your forehead, your joined hands tight as you still manoeuvred around the floor, "I could be such a gentleman, plus all my clothes would look so good on you." You slowed to a stop, dancers fluttering around you as you ended up at a loss for words, mouth agape and your heart singing. "I could be so much better for you than him."

"James..." you unlaced your joined hands, already missing his touch, as he stared at you desperately. You knew that everything he said was true, and James was nothing if not an honest man. He made you smile, kept you safe, always thought of you as the prettiest girl in the room. You were in love with James Potter, but it wasn't as easy as that. You had to worry about your brother, Regulus, and the future of your family. While your parents were definitely not kind and nurturing, they were all you had. You didn't have James Potter to whisk you away if Sirius didn't allow him too. You wanted James, more than you'd ever want Charles and his prejudice. Your eyes watered, and you suddenly felt lost.

"I don't need to tell you twice all the ways he can't suffice, he wouldn't care about your happiness, or your dancing or your smile," James' unwavering hope warmed you, cocooning you in a safety net when you felt like you were falling from the Astronomy Tower. James wanted to be your new beginning, your second chance. He wanted to cuddle you on cold nights and to show you the beauty of the muggle world and all its secrets, "If I could give you some advice baby, I'd leave with me tonight." His desperation slipped from his face, replaced with a confident smirk, as if he saw your facade melting, as if he could see you melting in his arms, as if he knew that you were going to choose him, just like you would every single time.

"You'll help me get through it?" you asked, and James immediately knew that you meant the sparking fall out between you and your parents, and the Nott family. James took your face in his hands, love shining in his eyes, before placing a chaste kiss on your forehead.

"I'd give you my heart if you asked, darling, of course I'll help. Besides, what's another Black sibling in my house? if your brother comes I'll have the full set." you shared a laugh, biting back the tears that threatened to spill.

"You'd like that." you said between laughs.

"I'd love it." he answered, leaning back and taking your hand in his once again. He led you back off the dance floor, both of you blushing madly and smiling merrily. Towards the left of the hall, you spotted James' friends watching you both intently, glasses raised. Lily Evans seemed particularly excited, emerald eyes aglow with excitement as she waved enthusiastically and gave James a thumbs up. Sirius and Regulus stood further away, small smiles on their faces as they watched their little sister walk out of the hall with the resident trouble maker. No complaints rose up their throats, just unbridled joy for their sister who finally looked happy. James and Y/n didn't look at anyone else as they left hand in hand, not even at a furious Charles Nott, hands balled in tight fists. They ignored the open mouthed stares and muttered remarks, completely absorbed in each other.

The next day, Charles would arrive at his dorm to an owl waiting by the open window. Tied to his leg was a envelope, and Charles reached for it immediately. Ripping it open, he tore the piece of paper out and dumped its contents on his bed. Gleaming back at his sneering face was the ring he gave Y/n when he proposed, and scribbled on the letter was one sentence:

'I suppose you were right Charles, I do have a taste for blood-traitors.’

- Y/n Black and James Potter

#james potter #james potter x reader #harry potter #hogwarts x reader #harry potter x reader #james potter imagine #regulus black twin!reader #mauraders #mauraders x reader

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azsazz · 6 months

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A Snowy Starfall

Daddy!Azriel x Reader

Summary: Anon Req: Batbabies waging their OWN snowball fight imitating their dad & uncles. Some take it too seriously, others don't take it seriously at all, it's pure chaos that ends in cocoa.

Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 2,003

Notes: Happy Holidays my loves 💙

_________________________________________

“Come on, you three,” you tut towards your mate and his friends. They’re standing before the large glass windows overlooking your backyard. The sun casts deep oranges and reds across the snow-ridden land, your children shrieking as they play in the snow. A valiant snowball fight is running its course, and Azriel, Cassian, and Rhysand stand, faces pressed to the windows as they watch, quietly cheering their children on. “They’re going to notice you staring.”

“Maybe they already have,” Feyre adds from her spot at your kitchen counter. She’s concentrating intently on decorating a cookie, adding swirls of black icing to the gingerbread woman’s hand, creeping up her extended arm. The cookie’s dress is provocative, bare dough legs showing between slats of laced icing. She hardly glances up as she continues, “They’re probably imitating them as we speak.”

Curious, you peek out the window, too. Indeed, Wren and Baz have built a fortress in the snow to protect themselves from the onslaught of snowballs being thrown their way. Gideon and Nyx have joined forces against the two brothers, the latter packing the fluffy snow into tight, white balls, while Gideon launches their ammo towards your sons.

Your eldest daughter, Zuzu, and Nyx’s younger sister, Asteria, had joined the competition early on. They’d been a formidable team too, but grew bored of their brothers and cousin who were taking the snowball fight a little too seriously. Now, they are in the snow with little Castor, who had cried until she’d been let outside by her protective father, bundled up in so many clothes her wings nearly disappeared into the fabric. The girls are making snow angels, though Castor’s looks very much like a circle on the lawn.

Dark streaks dart behind the wall your sons have built and you frown, watching as Baz’s shadows help roll clumps of snow closer, creating perfectly circular snowballs. From what you’d heard from your husband’s friends, using shadows was against any and all snowball fight rules.

You cut Azriel a glance but he’s conveniently occupied, watching the game outside.

“Well, at least they’re both on the same team,” you comment to your mate, who refuses to let his gaze stray from the little boys. Good, he can watch them while he does the dishes then, since there’s a window above the sink. You pat him on the ass, nodding towards the mess of dishes in the sink. He nods in response, loping quickly over to peer out the window again. “So they’ll either both lose or both win.”

“They’ll both win,” Az responds immediately, a quick but pointed look your way. “They do take after me.”

Cassian scoffs behind you and you turn to see a scowling Nesta shooting him a look as he tries to steal a cookie. Jax giggles in her lap at his uncle's antics, but when Cassian hands him part of the cookie and its head falls off, Jax’s smile wobbles. He’s not outside due to the nature of his powers. As an empath, sensing the competitive nature of his siblings and the sting of a snowball to the face, it had been in his best interest to be inside around the luscious scents of cookies and warmth, instead of out in the bitter snow.

Nesta coos, bouncing him, and Cassian is thankful for the distraction, slipping further down the counter to where the High Lord sits, trying—and failing—to gain his mate's attention. The commander slips an arm around Rhys’ shoulders and glares at the back of Azriel’s head, continuing his complaining. “The only reason you’ve won so many is because of those damn shadows, Az.”

Azriel throws over his shoulder, wincing as Baz takes a snowball to the face, his face going red with fury. “How was I supposed to know they were unaffected by the magic restrictions?” he claims, sending said shadows out into the yard once he sees Baz’s slipping through the snow, headed for the icicles hanging off the railings of the porch. His intercept his sons in a display of authority, spearing them into blackened mist. Baz glances up to the window, locking eyes with his father, who wears a look of warning on his face, brow raised. Azriel watches his son visibly huff and take his anger out on the snow, building a ball and launching it across the playing field in frustration.

His gaze cuts across the yard, narrowing his eyes. Gideon and Nyx are crouched low behind their own pile of snow, looking like they’re scheming. He wants to trail his shadows in their direction, listen in on their conversation, but he’s alerted to Malos’ whines from the other room. If one of his youngest is awake, they either both are, or will be soon.

“Malos is up,” Az tells you softly, shutting off the water to the sink. He wipes his hands on a towel and kisses you gently on the cheek. You’re mixing color into icing for the cookies, getting ready for when it’s too dark out for the children to play. They’ll get all cleaned up and have some hot chocolate to warm their bellies, and you, Feyre, and Nesta have baked cookies for all of the children to decorate. “I’ll get them.”

“I’ll join,” Cassian answers, stealing another cookie off of a platter. He dunks it into your icing to the neck, the cookie dripping with sugary goodness as he lifts it to his mouth, shoving it inside. He ducks under your glare. “Gotta go get my baby.”

Cassian and Nesta’s youngest daughter, Sif, had been put down for a nap with both Knox and Malos. She’s still a little too young to be outside without supervision, and the eldest children of the Inner Circle demanded time outside without their parents, probably because they knew their fathers would try and take over their snowball fight had they been outside. They didn’t want any tips or tricks, not even your children, even with Azriel’s hundred of wins beneath his belt.

Jax climbs from Nesta’s lap over Rhys who lets out a harsh exhale when his knee lands a little too close to his private area, and then over to Feyre, who finally sets her cookie down to scoop your middle son in her arms.

“Pretty,” Jax comments, pointing at her decorative cookie. It looks just like her, and there’s one next to it that looks a little like Rhysand. Purple dots for eyes stare up at him. “Uncle Rhysie?”

“Good job, Jax,” Feyre coos, pressing kisses to his cheeks. They pink with a blush and he settles into her arms, looking utterly at bliss. He revels in the warmth of her emotions, the pride surging through her. It feels like warm bubbles in his chest, and he noses at her collar.

“Look who’s ready to party,” Azriel announces, entering the room, arms full with your two youngest children, Malos and Knox. Knox still looks a little sleepy, head resting against Azriel’s shoulder, cuddling into his warmth. His tiny wings are droopy with sleep, and his twin sister, Malos, is already reaching for the cookies.

Nesta is quick to scoop her away from Azriel. She claims not to have a favorite niece, but Malos and her have an understanding. You see more of Nesta in Malos’ personality than any of the children of the Inner Circle, and you’re extremely happy that they have such a close connection.

“Hi baby,” you greet Knox, who is signing mommy to you. You ease him out of Azriel’s arms, who promptly returns to his position in front of the window, pressing exaggerated kisses to his chubby cheeks. It makes him smile wide, flaring those wings that he hasn’t quite figured out how to control. “Are you ready for some yummy cookies?”

His dark eyes light with excitement. Of course your children are ready for sweets, they always are. They picked that up from Azriel, who has the biggest sweet tooth you’ve ever seen.

Cassian reenters the room with his daughter in his arms and Rhys pouts. Almost everyone in the room is preoccupied with a child in their arms, except for him. Maybe he can convince Feyre to have one more. The youngest children in the family are two now and he misses having a tiny babe around.

By the heated look in her eyes, his mate seems to be considering the same, sneaking past those shadowy walls in his mind to catch a glimpse of his thoughts. The High Lord smirks. He sends her over some imagery to go with his thoughts, and her cheeks go red. That hot look turns into one of warning, and she’s speaking out loud now, “Why don’t you call the children inside so they can get warmed up and decorate some cookies?”

“Of course, darling,” Rhys sweeps from his seat in a wisp of darkness.

Breaking a cookie in half, you give part of it to Knox, who signs thank you, munching on the sweet. The other half is passed to Malos as you head towards where your mate is finishing up the dishes, leaning against him for a moment, reveling in all of your family happily together.

“I love you,” Azriel murmurs into your hair, leaning over to sneak a bite of Knox’s cookie. Your son stares up at his father with wide eyes, and like this, he looks just like Az. It makes your heart warm, and Jax squeals in happiness in response, your happiness radiating to him. It makes your grin wider, peeking over your shoulder to see him so content in his aunt's arms.

“I love you too, Az,” you whisper back to him, resting your forehead against his.

It’s a nice moment, until the children from outside are wrangled through the door by Rhys. The boys are arguing about who has won their snowball fight, while the girls are peeling away their winter gear, excited to decorate cookies with icing and sprinkles and the edible petals Elain had given you before her trip to the Summer Court with Lucien.

“Now, now, boys,” Rhys starts, but the diplomatic tone he’s using does nothing to deter the cousins from arguing. “I’m sure we can come to a consensus without yelling and acquiescing.”

“But Baz used his shadows,” Nyx complains, wringing his gloves between his hands in frustration. “We all saw it.”

“Nyxie, don’t be mean to Baz,” Wren counters, brows furrowed. He doesn’t like it when his family argues, especially over trivial things. His heart is so kind. “You can win the snowball fight if you want, but Baz and I are gonna win the cookie decorating contest, right Bazzy?”

“No,” Baz says flatly, dropping his gear onto the floor. You give him a look but he almost seems un-bothered by it, done with the debate his cousins are currently having. “We won the snowball fight and we’re going to win the cookie decorating contest.”

You share a look with your mate, watching the scene unfold. Baz is quite the Stubborn Suriel, no matter what it comes to.

“Dad,” Nyx groans, “Can’t you do something?”

Cassian is the one who comes to the rescue, Castor reaching up at him for her sister. He helps the little one down and the older one with her undressing, peeling her thermals off layer by layer. “It’s not about who won, right boys? It’s about spending time and having fun with the ones you love.”

Feyre, Nesta, and yourself awe at his words, but Azriel and Rhysand are rolling their eyes and muttering under their breath at Cassian’s cheesy words.

“What a kiss ass.”

“Smug fucker.”

“Azriel,” you hiss, turning your body away from him, like that will hide Knox from his vulgar words. “Language.”

He winces, “Sorry love.”

It’s your turn to roll your eyes now, bouncing Knox in your arms a little as you turn fully from your mate. You poke Knox’s belly playfully before addressing the rest of the room. “How about those cookies, then? They won’t decorate themselves!”

#daddy!az #daddy!azriel #acotar #azsazz #acomaf #acowar #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel fluff #azriel/reader

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kaisacobra · 5 months

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Calypso's Curse - Tara Carpenter

Summary: Tara was used to having bad things happen to her all the time. She was used to see people leave her life as if she meant nothing, but she never thought you would be one of those people, especially if she was the one who caused it.

Warnings: Fem!Reader, mentions of violence, angst

Word Count: 5.1k

Second part of Second Best

Tara had gotten used to waking up with the sunlight bothering her eyes and having a strong headache caused by the hangover. Like any other Saturday, she got up slowly and stretched with a grimace, proceeding to go through the rest of her morning routine.

Everything seemed to be as usual until she stepped out of the room and into the kitchen. There she felt the unusual heavy mood in her apartment, normally filled with life and multiple voices chatting animatedly. Something had happened the night before. Something was wrong.

Sam had her back turned, cooking something in a pot that smelled very good. Sitting at the table in front of the stove, their roommate Quinn was scrolling through her phone with no expression until she noticed Tara standing right in front of her. With a playful smile, the redhead lifted her head to face the girl.

"Good morning, roomie. Did you have fun yesterday? I heard it was a blast."

Tara noticed when her sister's back tensed upon hearing about her presence, but she still didn't take her eyes off the stove to even offer a greeting. Flashes from the previous night appeared behind the younger Carpenter's eyes, and she remembered some things, especially the part where Sam broke into the house and tased a guy.

If anyone should be annoyed, it should be me. She thought with irritation as she crossed her arms. Deciding to ignore Sam's apparent bad mood, Tara turned her gaze back to Quinn, who still had a look of amusement on her face, as if she knew something Tara didn't.

"It was great! Until someone ruined my fun." Tara replied with sarcasm in her voice, making a point to increase the volume of her speech so that Sam could hear it well.

Perhaps it was a bit unfair to be so rude to someone who only wanted to protect her, but Tara was fed up with feeling like she was in a prison while attending college in a city of endless possibilities. The girl didn't want to be stuck dwelling on the past, and what better way to keep her mind occupied than drinking and dancing with strangers until 5 in the morning?

Besides, she wasn't alone. She knew that y/n would never let anything bad happen to her. Tara was safe.

"Oh, I think you had more than enough fun." The older Carpenter finally turned around, carrying a plate of omelets and a judgmental tone. She placed the plate on the table in front of Tara, and the girl felt some of her anger dissolve with her sister's gesture. "You don't remember anything that happened?"

From the corner of her eye, the younger girl could see Quinn looking back and forth between the two sisters as if witnessing a tennis match. Tara sighed and finally sat at the table, picking up a fork to start her breakfast. "I remember you ruining the vibe by attacking some random guy."

"There's even a video!" Quinn added with a laugh, placing her phone on the glass surface of the table and showing the screen to the two girls. The video was an endless loop of the exact moment when Sam used the taser on the guy's groin, and he fell flat on the ground. The redhead lifted her head, expecting to see smiles on the faces of the two sisters like hers, but upon seeing Sam's stern expression, she quickly added, "But he deserved it, Tara. He was a jerk."

"No, no." The older Carpenter shook her head negatively, crossing her arms and leaning against the counter behind her, her face displaying a mix of irritation and sarcasm. "Apparently, Tara's idea of fun is to be harassed by a disgusting man. I'm so sorry for ruining your incredible plans to become a victim of some idiot."

The younger one huffed with irritation and aggressively stabbed a piece of the omelet with her fork. Deep down, she was grateful for what Sam had done, even though it might become gossip of the week at her college. But Tara was too proud to admit it. So, instead of thanking her sister, she rolled her eyes and started chewing on her breakfast. "Nothing serious was going to happen, okay? Y/n was there; you know she would never let me do something like that."

The already awkward atmosphere in the room seemed to chill even more. Sam straightened her back further, and her jaw clenched as she stared at her own feet. Quinn, notoriously known for not taking anything seriously, raised her eyebrows and looked at Tara like a deer caught in headlights. Something was definitely wrong.

"What?" The girl asked, trying to swallow the food in her mouth, pretending that her anxiety didn't weigh on her throat like a bowling ball.

"Tara, you were awful to y/n yesterday. Seriously, she left the party crying because you said some outrageous things." Sam sighed and ran her hand over her forehead as if she were exhausted. Her tone wasn't angry, but it was worse because it was the calm voice of someone so disappointed that they had given up. "Why do you do this? You know she loves you, so why do you hurt her like this?"

Tara's stomach twisted into a knot upon hearing what she had put you through last night. It was true that she wasn't the best friend, but she would never wish harm on you, especially if she were the one at fault.

"Are you sure about that? Are you sure you don't enjoy breaking her heart into pieces every time, and she brings you the shards, hoping you'll glue them back together?"

"Shut up." Tara silenced her intrusive thoughts and looked at Sam as if nothing were wrong with her. "We're friends. We argue sometimes, but it's normal. I'll talk to her today, and everything will be fine."

That statement sounded more like wishful thinking from Tara than anything else.

"I don't know, maybe you should call her to make sure," Quinn spoke again, this time looking at Tara with a kind of amusement. "Who knows, maybe she's tired of being your plaything?"

"Oh, because you know all about turning people into your playthings, don't you?" The younger Carpenter retorted angrily, grabbing her phone with a sudden need to prove the redhead wrong. She searched for your contact number and pressed the call button, muttering a curse at her roommate. "Fuck you, Quinn."

The call rang twice. The other two girls stared at Tara with curiosity as she held the phone close to her ear, silently pleading for you to answer soon so she could wipe that smug smile off Quinn's face.

"The number you called is currently unavailable."

Huh?

The girl looked at the screen with confusion on her face. That had never happened before. You always answered her calls, even the ones made at 4 in the morning. Could it be a signal problem?

She went to her text messages and started typing a message. It wouldn't be as instant as a call, but at least you would respond when you read it. Tara typed a simple message (are you up?) and pressed send, but...

The text was green. Why was it green?

"Oh... Maybe she blocked you, roomie." Quinn's voice made Tara jump a little. The girl was so stunned that she didn't even realize she had spoken aloud. She looked between Sam and Quinn, one with evident disappointment and the other with mild surprise.

"No! No, this..." Tara vehemently shook her head, gripping the edge of the table as if it were the only thing keeping her grounded. "...This has to be a mistake!"

"Tara, I told you that you went too far-"

"NO! Okay, just... just no!" The girl interrupted Sam with a shout. Her breathing was erratic, and she suddenly felt dizzy. You always promised her that you would be here, always came back, no matter what happened. "I'll call Mindy, okay? They must be together, and y/n will explain that her phone broke or something. Everything's still fine."

With trembling hands, Tara searched for Mindy's name in the contacts list and pressed call as soon as she found it. Her feet were tapping on the floor at a frenetic pace, and she had to restrain her own hands to avoid biting her nails and showing even more of her anxiety in front of Sam and Quinn.

Tara knew that sometimes she pushed you too far, but she only did it because it was necessary, right? She wasn't like her intrusive thoughts suggested, she didn't truly wish you harm, right? She couldn't have hurt you that much, she just... couldn't.

"Tara, why the fuck are you calling?" Mindy questioned as soon as the call was answered, not waiting for any greeting beforehand. Her voice overflowed with impatience, which wasn't uncommon for her personality, but Tara felt surprised by how hostile the tone sounded.

"Shh. Speak quieter; Y/n just went to sleep." A whisper belonging to Anika was heard not far from the microphone. Mindy apologized, lowering the volume of her voice, but Tara had already heard enough to feel her heart racing.

"What do you mean, she just went to sleep? It's 9 am!" She spoke with concern, standing up from the chair she was sitting in, letting her restless feet carry her back and forth. "Is she sick? Does she need me to bring some medicine?"

On the other side of the table, Sam frowned in concern at what she was hearing. "Y/n is sick? Does she need anything?"

Tara gestured for her sister to wait with her free hand as she tried to calm herself. She could barely remember the last time you were sick, but she vividly remembered going to your house and seeing you lying in bed, looking like you’d been hit by a truck, loopy with fever. She was so young at the time that she had been terrified, thinking that her curse would finally catch up with you, and she would lose you to some stupid illness.

She remembered helping your mom make soup and feeling like the happiest girl in the world when she saw you eating it with great effort despite your sore throat, just because she had made it.

The curse didn't catch up with you, and Tara felt useful for the first time in her life.

"She's not sick; she just took a while to sleep because she was too busy crying her eyes out yesterday." Mindy retorted venomously. "What the hell is your problem, Tara? You destroyed her!"

"I-I didn't mean to... It wasn’t my intention to..."

"Wasn’t your intention?" Mindy interrupted the girl's stammer with an aggressive whisper. "You've been an asshole to her for years, and you still want to tell me you had no intention?!"

"I'm sorry, okay? I don't know why..." Tara let the words come out of her mouth with effort, trying not to let the tears that threatened to fall escape. "I don't know why I'm like this; I just... Tell her I'm sorry."

Mindy scoffed mockingly. "Tell her yourself. And preferably, wait a week to do it because I don't think Y/n wants to see you anytime soon."

When the call ended, Tara could swear she heard her own heart crack. She looked at her hands, one still holding the phone, not knowing what to feel or what to do in the moment. Maybe in a few moments, everything would hit her like a tsunami. Anger, shame, panic, sadness, all directed at herself. But at that moment, she just felt nothing, as if a void had opened in her chest and gradually expanded, consuming her entire being.

Sam asked if you were sick again. Quinn wanted to know how you were feeling. Tara didn't answer any of the questions and ran as fast as she could to lock herself in her room.

It had been a week since Tara last saw you.

Your absence hit her like a train, but the girl was doing her best to respect your space since all this situation was her fault anyway. It was so strange not having you by her side, even as a silent presence, that she felt like an incomplete puzzle.

At least she knew you were okay, and that was enough to calm some of her nerves. Of course, psychologically, you weren't in the best place, but Mindy had assured Tara (after much insistence from the girl) that you were eating, sleeping well, and attending classes just like always, which made the younger Carpenter feel relieved for not ruining even more of your life.

The group of friends seemed to be under the custody of divorced parents. One day, Tara would meet Mindy and Anika for lunch, and they would talk civilly, even though the disapproval of the twin about her actions was evident. The next day, she would have lunch with Chad and Ethan, who tried to lighten the mood with silly jokes and sought Tara's opinion on "guy stuff."

She knew this rotation scheme was also happening with you, and Tara couldn't help but wonder how you were dealing with it. Did you talk about her when she wasn't around? Or maybe you were trying to erase any trace of Tara from your own mind?

Either way, in your absence, Tara had plenty of time to sink into her own pit of guilt, which gave her time to analyze her own actions. She didn't know how things had escalated to this point, but she knew exactly how they had started.

You were both 13, nearing the end of summer, and about to embark on the frightening world of high school. Tara remembers every detail of that day perfectly because it might have been the best day of her life. She recalls the two of you lying on her bed, the bedroom door closed to keep the cool air from the air conditioner from escaping into the hallway. Her mom wasn't home, as usual, but Tara couldn't remember the excuse this time.

Tara remembers seeing you laugh at some scene from Child's Play playing on TV while finishing your watermelon popsicle. She noticed that the sweet treat seemed to make your lips redder and more hydrated, and a question about their taste seemed to pound in her brain like a drum. She shook her head to shake that off, feeling her own face warm.

"What nonsense! Can't you just, like, kick that doll hard?" You were lying face down, but turned your head to flash a smile at Tara. She could barely comprehend your words, finding it more interesting to notice how your legs were stretched upward in the most adorable position and how your eyes seemed to sparkle with amusement. You were clearly happy, and Tara was happy about that.

"It's the power of the script! I don't think you can defeat a possessed doll with just a kick." Tara answered your question, shrugging and looking at her own hands, where the remnants of a strawberry popsicle were. Anything to avoid looking at you and feeling whatever was happening in her chest.

A moment of silence settled for a few seconds, and Tara thought you had returned to watching the movie until she heard your voice again. "Was it good?"

She raised her head in confusion and looked at you with a frown, which was met with a thoughtful look from your side. "What do you mean?"

"The popsicle. I wanted to taste it, but I know strawberry is your favorite, and there was only one." You pouted, and, God, how Tara felt something inside her sway. Her gaze fixated on your lips for a few seconds, and all her thoughts turned into mush.

"You can taste it on my lips if you want."

Shit. Shit, shit, shit.

The girl closed her eyes and grimaced, regretting the words as soon as they left her mouth. Damn her intrusive thoughts. "I-I was joking, sorry." She spoke next, trying not to make the situation even more awkward.

Still with her eyes closed, she felt the warm touch of your hand on her arm, and one side of the bed sank a bit closer than before. "No! It's fine. You know, it's not such a bad idea..."

"What?" Tara widened her eyes, unable to believe that she had actually heard that come out of your throat. She could see you clearly now, sitting cross-legged with both your thighs almost touching.

"I mean... All our friends have kissed someone." You started to argue, gesturing with your hands as you always did. "Chad has already kissed someone, Mindy even kissed a girl! I don't want to go to high school and be teased for being a bad kisser! At least this way, we both would have some experience!"

Tara felt her own head short-circuit. She couldn't even interpret what she was feeling with your suggestion, with sweaty palms, a rapidly beating heart, and a dry throat. Maybe she was just too scared by the idea of kissing someone.

Yeah. That makes sense.

"But we're friends. Wouldn't that be weird?"

"Of course not!" You countered with the energy of someone who clearly had thought about the answer to that question before. "It's even better! If we're bad, we can just tell each other and practice until we get it right!"

The young Carpenter's head was spinning just by thinking about kissing you not only once but multiple times. She couldn't stop staring at your lips, the question about their taste now seeming more urgent and necessary, like some kind of thirst.

Without trusting her own voice, let alone her self-control, Tara just nodded and hoped you understood the signal to take the initiative and get even closer.

Your mouth still carried the scent of the damn watermelon popsicle, but the fragrance of your subtle perfume also mixed and invaded Tara's senses with the force of a wave. She kept her hands close to her body, not knowing what to do with them as your faces got so close that your breaths collided.

When your lips finally met in the sweetest and gentlest kiss possible, Tara saw an explosion of colors behind her closed eyes, like fireworks. In fact, her whole body seemed to catch fire, and her chest could barely contain her heart. That was the first time Tara felt so... alive.

She understood everything now. She loved you. Fuck, she loved you.

Fuck. She loved you.

Tara immediately felt panic churn in her stomach, but she acted as if nothing had happened, just like you did. Inside, however, all her senses were on high alert for an imminent catastrophe.

She loved you, really loved you, and Tara knew you well enough to know after that kiss that you felt the same way about her. That was the problem. Tara wasn't made to be loved; she didn't deserve it.

You see, Tara felt like a myth she studied in one of her history classes, the myth of Calypso. A nymph who had been trapped on an island by the gods, and her eternal punishment was falling in love with people who could never be with her, causing a cycle of broken hearts and unrequited love for millennia.

Every time Tara loved too much and was reciprocated, the universe took someone away from her. It had happened with her father, with Sam, and more recently with her mother. She couldn't let it happen again; she couldn't lose you.

It was then, in desperation, that she stopped talking to you for a week, trying to make the feelings of at least one of you decrease until they completely vanished. But the days passed, and nothing changed. Tara still felt intense and conflicting emotions for you, and from the messages you sent, everything pointed to you feeling the same.

Avoiding you forever wouldn't work, and Tara missed you too much to simply cut you out of her life completely to avoid future suffering. She decided, then, that the best way to resolve this mess would be to get closer to other people, trying to force what she felt for you onto someone else.

She could lose anyone else, but not you.

A few weeks later, high school finally began, and she met Amber. The timing couldn't have been more perfect.

Tara Carpenter might have many flaws, but one thing she had always been good at was reading people and their intentions. The moment she met Amber, Tara could identify that the girl was exactly what she needed: interesting, attractive, but fundamentally distant.

She knew it hurt you. The distancing, the increasingly scarce conversations, her sudden interest in someone else even after you had shared the best kiss of your lives. Tara didn't want to hurt you, not really, but it was necessary if it meant she could keep you in her life.

And Amber... Amber was perfect for the role. Tara always knew that the girl would never love her more than she loved herself, knew that she was the type to disappear for a few days without explanation, but always came back with a sly smile and lame excuses. Tara loved her because she would never love her enough to leave, she could love without fear, even if the feeling wasn't reciprocated with the same strength.

At the end of the day, what mattered was that the relationship made Tara suppress what she felt for you, so nothing bad would happen to your friendship, right?

You loved her. She loved Amber. No more Calypso's curse.

After replaying all these memories in her mind, Tara felt a desperate urge to laugh. Wasn't it at least a little funny that she had concocted this entire plan and included a psychopathic killer in her group of friends (which consumed her every day as she blamed herself for last year's attacks) only to end up losing you anyway in the end?

She shouldn't be laughing, but Tara didn't know if she had the capacity to control what she felt anymore.

It was expected that the halls of Blackmore University would be empty during that afternoon period. Normally, other students were attending elective classes, participating in clubs, or training in some sport to enrich their academic resumes. Tara, contrary to that, roamed the halls like a lost soul without direction, as if walking aimlessly would solve any of her problems.

But maybe this walk had indeed been a good idea, as she managed to see the exact moment when you came out of the campus counselor's office. She sighed when she saw you, looking carefree and definitely less miserable than she was. You even smiled, and even though the smile wasn't for her, just that sight made her heart beat excitedly and a sense of peace ran through her body.

At least, that was until the girl who was receiving your smile appeared in Tara's view.

She was... something. She had a confident posture that made her seem even taller than she was and a carefree expression on her face that was almost charming. The girl seemed well-off, dressed in clothes that seemed to be designer and a sports duffel bag hanging from her shoulders. She was... pretty, maybe? Tara didn't know why, but she was reluctant to give any compliments to that stranger.

Maybe because Tara didn't know her, but you spoke to her with the ease of someone who had known her for a lifetime. You were laughing together and maintaining eye contact in a way that, for some reason, bothered Tara. So, she let her impulsiveness take over and marched toward you without the slightest plan.

"Y/n? Hi!" She announced her presence, and something in her chest hurt when she noted the change from your previously happy expression to a closed one. "I haven't seen you in a while! I thought it was because you were sad and needed some time, but you're clearly better than I am!"

She didn't know why she had said those words in such a passive-aggressive tone. Tara knew she was in the wrong, but still, watching your interaction with this stranger made her blood boil. However, she felt shame for her own reaction when you looked at her with a disappointed expression.

“Seriously, Tara? Is that all you have to say?” You spoke, crossing your arms as if you needed protection. Tara couldn't help but notice how the icy tone in your voice was new and cut through her like a razor.

The blue-eyed girl next to you seemed to straighten even more, positioning herself a little closer to you as some sort of bodyguard. Ridiculous, if you asked Tara. "Is there a problem here?"

"And who are you?" The younger Carpenter asked, trying to control her own voice not to make you even more annoyed. The new girl didn't seem to care about the hostile atmosphere and flashed a confident smile, looking down at Tara in a way that she didn't know if it was intentional or not.

"I'm Kate. Kate Bishop. Maybe you've never seen me if you're the same age as y/n here." Kate made a point to touch your shoulder when mentioning you, and Tara felt like a tsunami of hatred was forming in her stomach. "I'm a junior, so we probably don't have the same classes."

"Speaking of classes..." The taller girl turned completely to you, as if Tara wasn't even present. "I have to go now, but I'll see you later, y/n?"

Tara watched begrudgingly as your face formed a small smile when addressing Kate. "Sure. See you later, Bishop."

You exchanged a hug that, again, in Tara's opinion, was a bit longer than it should have been. She watched as the so-called Kate Bishop walked away down the corridor, adjusting the sports bag on her shoulder and striding like a damn show-off model.

"If she's a junior and you're a freshman, how did you two meet?" Tara inquired, feeling protective of you. After all that had happened in the past, she thought she had a bit of a right to doubt people's intentions. That was the only reason she was so intrigued by your new companion, obviously.

You sighed tiredly, as if you already expected that kind of behavior from her. "We met in the counseling center line." You pointed to the counseling center door a few meters to your left. "I'm going to therapy sessions, you know? Not that you'll care."

Tara felt an immense guilt instantly. She could now see the dark bags under your eyes and a clear loss of the bright energy you normally carried with you. The girl wanted to cry and plead for forgiveness, but she knew that would only make you feel worse.

Maybe Tara, overall, would only make you feel worse.

"I'm sorry, okay? I know I said horrible things, and-"

"Apologies won't work now, Tara." You admitted, turning your gaze away. "It's not just about what you said; it's about how you've been acting for a long time. I shouldn't have to put up with this kind of thing."

"You're right, I know. I feel-"

"What? You feel sorry?" Tara was startled to hear your tone becoming more pained as you interrupted her. She had never heard anything like that come out of your mouth before, and she almost wished you were shouting in her face instead. "Tara, you can’t even give me an explanation for why you do this kind of thing to me? Do you find it amusing to make a fool out of me? Is it fun to hurt me and see me coming back to you like a fucking boomerang?"

"No! I just... I don't know why I do this." The shorter one confessed with a trembling voice. "I swear to you that I... You are one of the best people in my life, okay? And I know I don't do enough to deserve you, but I... I need you. I'll do anything, just... could you forgive me?"

She wasn't lying when she said she didn't know the reason for continuing to hurt you this way. She didn't know why it had been so easy to listen when Amber suggested that you might be Ghostface. God, she didn't even know why she kept bringing up Amber, even though she preferred to forget about everything Amber caused.

Perhaps Tara just felt the need to make you feel the same pain she felt inside, so that you would be intertwined even unconsciously.

"I don't know if I can, not now. I have to put myself first at least once in my life, Tara. I'm really sorry." Your eyes were still avoiding Carpenter's, avoiding her gaze like a plague. "But if what you say is true, and you don't know why you do this... Tara, you need help. Professional help. I can't be your therapist, let alone your punching bag."

The girl nodded slightly and bit her lower lip to keep from crying in front of you. With a remaining bit of willpower and a little courage, she lightly touched your hand, silently pleading for your attention. "If I do this... seek help, i mean. Will you forgive me? Please, I don't want to lose you because I'm an idiot."

You looked back at her, and Tara could almost see conflicting feelings swimming in your irises. Finally, something seemed to snap you out of a trance, and you gently squeezed Carpenter's hand, a small gesture of support. "I don't know, Tara. I hope so, but that's not up to me, you know."

When you took a step back, and your hands parted, Tara almost let out a sob from her throat, instantly missing the touch. You hesitated, as if you wanted to say something, but chose to shake your head and quickly wipe away a lone tear rolling down your cheek. "I hope you get better, Tara."

The girl watched helplessly as you walked away, clutching your own bag as if it would keep you grounded in reality. She hated herself for making you feel this way, hated herself for being a problem for everyone she loved.

Maybe there was never a curse on Tara. Maybe she was simply the curse in other people's lives.

She glanced at the door to her left and sighed resignedly. As immense as her pride was, and as much as she had avoided this moment until now, she had promised you that she would change, and she couldn't break another promise. She swallowed hard and let her legs guide her to the frosted glass door.

Tara read and reread the words on the door. Counseling Center. And with one final sigh, she entered.

#scream #scream vi #tara carpenter x reader #jenna ortega #jenna ortega imagine #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x you #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter #tara carpenter imagine #scream 2022 #scream x reader #scream imagine

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wileys-russo · 7 months

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off limits (6) II a.putellas x león!reader

part one part two part three part four part five

off limits (6) II a.putellas x león!reader

"ale where are we going?" you laughed, leaning back into your seat more as your girlfriend sped down the highway. "stop asking me princesa, it is a surprise!" was all you got in return alongside a toothy grin as barcelona raced past her window in a blur.

you adored when alexia was in moods like this; so jovial and free spirited, lowering her stern serious facade and allowing a more bubbly and playful one to shine through.

as a friend, team mate, role model, footballer, sister, captain, lover she had many sides to her and you'd argue till you were blue in the face that some of those she reserved only for when it was the two of you, such as the childlike joy which currently oozed from her.

you'd only been back from training long enough to shower and change before she'd cornered you in her living room, grabbing your hand, twirling you and kissing her way softly up your arm, informing the two of you were to now go for a drive together.

you hadn't questioned it, well you hardly had time to before the taller girl had thrown you over her shoulder and smacked your ass, stating you needed warmer clothes as she tossed you down on her bed.

she'd shut up your questions then by throwing herself on top of you with a grin and peppering your face with kisses, biting your cheek playfully and murmuring in catalan that all would be revealed soon enough.

your heart soared to see her so carefree and happy that afternoon, the two of you bundling up a little more and leaving her apartment hand in hand. unable to show much affection all day you were both admittedly touch starved, making sure at all times that at least a centimeter of your skin pressed against the others.

alexia going as far as to challenge you to a race once you entered the carpark the two of you sprinted off laughing like children as you beat her there, rewarded by her pressing you against the vehicle and kissing you so hard it had stole the air from your lungs.

now as the two of you drove away to an unknown final destination you looked at her with a soft smile and hopelessly lovesick gaze.

her ever alluring and warm hazel orbs stayed hidden behind her most favorite pair of sunglasses. you once teased she liked them more than you when she'd tackled your sister to the ground to get them back as mapi stole them off her head after training one afternoon.

no one but the two of you knowing the truth behind your relationship at that stage you'd left separately, quickly meeting up at your apartment where you'd taken your turn to steal her glasses. the taller girl chasing you around and around till she'd finally caught and taken you down to the floor as well, your combined laughters filling the cosy atmosphere of her apartment.

grinning up at her you'd simply slipped the sunglasses on and pulled her down into a passionate kiss, pretending not to notice how eager she still was to take them off your eyes and hide them away in her pocket, not breaking the kiss for even a second as she did.

now back to your pining stare toward her in the drivers seat her pink hair fell down her shoulders in gentle waves, gradually fading back to blonde with each wash much to your insistent bothering that she should dye it pink again, but you knew you were fighting a losing battle.

the top of her head was tucked away beneath a black beanie, loose strands of hair whipping around in the wind from where her window was wound down. the late afternoon sun was glorious and bathed her in its golden glow, highlighting her tanned sun kissed skin and sharp jawline which as far as you were concerned could have been carved by the gods themselves.

her plump pink lips stayed curled into a cheeky grin, white pearly teeth flashing out at you as one hand stayed on your thigh and the other gripped the steering wheel.

at alexia's insistence you had on matching nike hoodies, hers a pale pink and yours a mint green, the midfielder ignoring your teasings about how cute it was that she wanted you two to match, shutting you up with a loving kiss.

"take a picture, it will last longer than staring at me bebita." the older girl smirked, her laughter bouncing around the car before being snatched away in the wind as you grabbed your phone and did exactly that.

"i am not staring, i am admiring my beautiful girlfriend." you retorted happily seeing a slight blush creep up her neck at your words, her eyes darting off the road for just a fleeting second to look at you, shining with a type of tender adoration she'd not felt warm her heart before you had turned her world upside down.

"okay amor put this on por favor, but backwards so you cannot see anything." alexia reached down beside her and handed you a bright pink balaclava. "why do you have this?" you'd laughed so much your stomach hurt, clutching at your aching abdomen muscles.

"it is albas! just put it on before we get there, i told you it was a surprise and you are going to ruin it!" alexia whined with a playful grumpy pout. you rolled your eyes but did as she asked, your girlfriend waving her free hand in front of your face a few times to check you really couldn't see.

"if you are taking me somewhere to murder me i must warn you that i have not written you into my will yet so you will get nothing." you'd smirked beneath the soft fabric of the balaclava hearing a raspy chuckle beside you.

"if i was going to murder you cariño it would not be for your money, i have more than enough of my own." alexia shook her head in amusement as you felt her take a few turns, the road a little bumpier now.

"okay la reina sorry i forgot you could just sell one of your millions of trophies. how much is a ballon d'or worth on the black market? if i make it out of this alive maybe i will just rob you. i have a balaclava now they will never know it was me." you mocked her, squirming as she pinched your leg for the teasing.

"are we nearly there?" you groaned, starting to feel a little ill as the car turned and bumped and you stayed in the dark. "si niña bonita, soon." her fingers interlocked with yours, bringing the back of your hand up to her mouth and kissing it sweetly, repeating the tender gesture over and over until finally you heard gravel crunching and cracking under the tyres and felt the car still, engine cutting off.

she let go of your hand as her door opened and closed, still unable to see you jumped as yours suddenly opened next, your girlfriend reaching over to unbuckle you. "can i take this off now?" you asked, alexia grabbing your hand before you could.

"almost." she helped you up and out of your seat, arms locked around your torso and helping you to walk, steadying you as you tripped a few times, her lips kissing your neck apologetically.

"joder." you hissed quietly with a wince as suddenly she yanked off the balaclava and sunlight pierced your eyes. "sorry." she mumbled with another kiss to your cheek this time, still wrapped tightly around you as her chin came to rest on your shoulder.

"oh alexia." you smiled in surprise as your vision adjusted, the two of you stood at the lookout of turó de la rovira, a 360 degree view of barcelona greeting your eyes.

golden hour almost over and the sun starting to set the sky had turned a soft coral, streaks of bright orange and yellow dashed across it like god was painting the sky just for the two of you.

"do you like it?" your girlfriend mumbled, hugging you even tighter as you nodded. "i love it, its beautiful. i have not been here since i was little." your smile was nostalgic and soft, alexia melting at the look of awe and wonder on your face.

"buena hermosa." alexia sighed happily, your hands finding hers and intertwining, her arms still tightly encasing you as the two of you watched the sunset together in a peaceful and comfortable silence.

in that moment you were certain that you'd never felt more loved by someone. never more appreciated and tenderly adored than by the tall catalan hugging you tightly and lazily kissing your jaw, whispering soft confessions of just how much she adored you over and over in your ear.

never in that moment did you once think things between the two of you would end up how they had right here right now.

"my contract is up this year with barca ale, and i will not be renewing it."

sat across from her in the physio room you watched your ex lovers heart physically break as you delivered the final blow, unveiling a secret which had haunted you for longer than you dared to dwell on.

"what do you mean you are not renewing it? I-" alexia struggled to get out her words as you looked on, eyes swirling with a storm of guilt, relief, pity and empathy. "barca is your home. you cannot go somewhere else!" she forced out, fists balled by her sides.

"that is why i am here so late, i just had my final meeting with jonatan about it. the decision is made alexia, there is no going back now." your voice was firm though not unkind, despite what was going on between the two of you this news was not something you would ever use as a means to make her feel guilty.

"no no no por favor amor por favor." within a second she had wedged her body back between your legs, clasping your face in her hands, tears welling up in her eyes.

"it is done, the lawyers were there and everything." your voice was barely above a whisper as you squeezed your eyes tightly shut, unable to bring yourself to look into her broken ones any longer. your heart felt like someone was closing it in a tight fist as you heard her try to stifle back her tears.

"oh ale." you sighed, wrapping your arms around her neck as she moved to push her face into your shoulder, her hands tightly gripping your hips as if she could hold you to stay there forever.

you held her for as long as she needed, there was more you wanted to explain but you knew she needed time to process what you'd already said.

you weren't even sure if you'd processed it yourself. there was still six more weeks of active games in between breaks, and you would still be on the team for each one of those.

but the fact that after that this would no longer be your home, no more would you don the infamous red and blue colours of your team, surrounded by girls who you looked at like family, was a terrifying prospect you refused to think about just yet.

"sorry." alexia mumbled, pulling herself away and wiping her nose, the two of you letting go as she moved to sit back on the bench opposite you.

"where will you go?" she questioned quietly after she'd taken a moment to compose herself, embarrassment now joining the boiling pot of emotions bubbling up inside her. "that is the other thing." you exhaled deeply, shifting uncomfortably at the rest of your news as alexia frowned curiously.

"i won't." you started simply, fiddling with your hands in your lap. "i do not understand." alexia's frown deepened as you sighed again, forcing yourself to look away from the floor and back into her eyes.

"i am not moving to any other team ale, after this season i am retiring from football all together."

"que? why?" was all the older girl could manage to spit out, her head a spinning mess of questions and thoughts and feelings, all far too dizzying for her to make sense of any of it.

"because of me?" she followed up quietly, daring to allow her eyes to look at you for a moment before they moved to look at the wall beside your head. "not completely, i promise there is much more to it than that." you answered honestly.

"but what happened with us is a part of it." alexia stated more than questioned as you nodded, now the one to push yourself off the bench, moving to stand in front of her and gently grabbing her hands as she flinched momentarily in surprise.

"i love barcelona more than life. i love living here, i love that my friends and family are all here, i love how it has been playing football and a name for myself here, and I will always be a culer till the day I die-" you started softly, squeezing her hands to get the girl to look at you.

"-which is why i could never play for another team. but i would be lying if i said just because i love living here doesn’t mean it feels like home here anymore alexia, because you were a big part of that feeling and now you are gone from it." you forced out, hating the way her face fell at your words.

"i am not gone, i am right here!" alexia whispered desperately. "then why does it feel like you are so far away?" you smiled sadly, knowing your words would hurt her but needing her to hear them none the less.

"a part of me will always love you alexia. but that same part aches that as much as I love you, you are not mine to love anymore." you paused to take a shaky breath, hands still tightly holding onto hers.

"like i said i am so tired. i am so tired of fighting with you, arguing with my sister, feeling angry all the time is exhausting. and so is being unsure how to fix and mend relationships which mean so much to me, while still trying to get over how much it hurt for them to break in the first place." you poured your heart out honestly.

"football has always meant a lot to me but i need more, i crave something out of life that football can no longer give me. and i promise i was thinking about that before anything happened with us." you spoke sincerely, again not wanting her to blame herself for a decision that held a lot more meaning to you than you were currently able to explain.

"i hope that with some time and some distance to grow maybe we can be friends again one day ale, I know you will always be in my sisters life as her best friend and she will need you when i leave." you smiled, wiping away a stray tear which threatened to fall.

"you have not told her?" alexia asked, struggling to process what you were saying, struggling to breath as with each word you spoke the room seemed to feel smaller and smaller.

"no, not yet. and i am trusting you one last time not to tell her about this, not to tell anyone. i will tell them when i am ready and in my own way." you requested, again squeezing her hands gently in yours as she nodded.

"i cannot change your mind, can i?" she returned it with an equally sad smile of her own. "no, nobody can." you confirmed, letting go of her and taking a step back.

"but if barcelona is not your home anymore, then where do you plan to go?"

"hola." mapi looked up in surprise as you stood in front of her, already changed after training with your bag slung over your shoulder ready to go.

"hola hermana." your sister greeted slowly, taken aback by the casual nature of your approach, not having properly spoken to her for well over a week now.

"would you and ingrid want to come over for dinner?" you asked with a raised eyebrow, the norweigen sat a few lockers away glancing over hearing her voice, tapping aitana's leg signalling she was no longer listening as the girl spoke with her.

"tonight?" mapi asked, eyes wide in shock as your own rolled. "no next week. si maria, tonight." you replied much more curtly, tapping your foot impatiently when you didn't receive an answer.

"we will be there." ingrid answered you with a soft smile when her girlfriend didn't. "buena, come over whenever." you sent her a smile and shrugged then with that you were gone.

"estás bien mi amor?" ingrid moved to sit beside her girlfriend who seemed lost in her thoughts, mapi nodding that she was okay and bending down to continue lacing up her shoes as aitana handed ingrid her bag with a smile, wishing them both goodbye.

"see i told you, you just had to wait and to let her come to you."

dinner had been going as good as it could have been so far.

things were a little awkward and frosty at first, but with ingrid acting as a buffer you managed to settle into a much more comfortable conversation style.

you'd dished up dinner, grateful to have cooking it as a distraction as you encouraged your guests to do majority of the talking. the two planned to go to norway soon during international break as she had national team commitments.

they were going to see ingrids family and take a few days to themselves in between games finishing and needing to return to barca, and spent time telling you all about what they had planned to do and see there in the short while.

ingrid had of course extended the invitation for you to join them, your sister also eager for you to come. you'd met ingrids family before so you knew it would not be an issue, however you had already committed to malta and wouldn't put it past the younger putellas to track you down in another country to drag you there with her, having been texting you repeatedly about it.

so you waved off the invitation, grateful for it but making a series of jokes about not wanting to third wheel as you ate. though eventually you could no longer stomach the polite conversation and you knew you needed to come clean, the longer you avoided it the more nervous you'd become.

“ingrid, maria. I need to tell you something.” you blurted out much more abruptly and awkwardly than you'd intended. the entire plan you'd spent the afternoon creating all gone out the window, as had your prepared speech.

her smile dropped at the use of her full name, attention now entirely yours to command as you glanced at ingrid beside her who nodded to you to continue, seemingly just as concerned.

“i’m not renewing my contract with barca.” your voice was barely above a whisper but your words fell on your sisters ears like an anchor. you flinched as her cutlery fell to her plate with a loud clatter and she shot to her feet.

“what the hell do you mean you’re not-“ she started with a scowl leaning across the table, ingrid firmly squeezing her leg and giving her a pointed look, nodding to where you sat across from them staring down at the floor, anxiously playing with your fingers as you awaited her oncoming wave of rage.

swallowing the bitter anger and frustration which was rapidly bubbling to the surface knowing that was not what you needed right now, mapi took a deep breath and slowly sat back down.

“hey, look at me.” the girl ordered as you nervously glanced up to meet her eyes which to your shock were glazed over with worry. “what do you need from me hermana?” she asked softly, her reaction catching you a little off guard.

“not to hate me.” was all you managed to breathe out as you crumbled and the tears you’d been fighting off began to well up in your eyes.

your sister quickly moved around the table to sit by your side as you collapsed into her awaiting arms, tears wetting her collarbone as she cradled your head tightly.

“no I could never ever hate you niñita, never. I promise.” the older girl assured softly, murmuring it over and over as she held you tightly as you tried to calm yourself.

not wanting to overstep ingrid quickly gathered your empty plates, moving to the kitchen to wash them up and giving the two of you a moment of privacy.

you pulled away from her and wiped your eyes with your shirt, a little embarrassed at your emotions as ingrid returned, handing you a few tissues. "come, we need to talk about this." your sister encouraged, nodding for you to all move to the sofa.

"so you are leaving barca." she sighed a little as you nodded after you'd all settled in. "to where?" she asked the same questions alexia had. "not another team." you started, the confused faces staring back at you also mirroring that of your ex lovers.

so with a shaky inhale, you repeated the same words you had to her.

"retiring?" with that your sister could hold her tongue no more, once again shooting up to her feet.

"are you injured?" "no." "do you still like football?" "yes." "have you been told you need to stop playing? forced into this by someone?" "no."

"mierda i have just named all the possible reasons for retiring!" the tattooed spaniard snapped, ignoring ingrid who tried to reason with her.

"not mine." you replied calmly, the two words catching your sister off guard as she faltered for a second and fell quiet, slowly taking her seat again and wordlessly waving for you to speak as ingrid moved closer in an attempt to comfort her.

"i am not happy anymore." you started simply, moving to cross your legs underneath you and turning your body a little more to look at the couple sat a few feet away whose faces softened at your words.

"si, i like football. no, i am not injured or being told i cannot play anymore. but i no longer love football, i do not have ambitions to win awards or trophies or tournaments. i cannot represent my country anymore, i cannot continue to pretend like i feel the same when everyone speaks about these things." you began to explain, feeling lighter with each word you got off your chest.

"i have always done what you have. you played football in the backyard, i played football in the backyard. you played for the junior national teams, i played for the junior national teams. you played for barca, i played for barca. you stood up for the way we were being treated, and i stood beside you." you recounted, the look on your sisters face not easy to decipher what she was thinking, though she remained quiet and allowed you to continue.

"but now, now i need to figure out what i want and what i need and what i love. barcelona does not feel like home anymore and it will always be so special to be but i need more." you sighed, rubbing your face with your hands and taking a pause to reset.

"i need to feel like i am giving more, doing more, like whatever i leave behind is worth something. i just want more from life." you sighed, struggling with your words as to not undermine anything or anyone.

"this has been the hardest decision i have ever made. all i know is football, all i am associated with is football, all i know i am good at is football and that is no longer good enough for me anymore." your voice broke slightly and you wavered, taking a deep breath.

"it hurts more than i can explain and i am terrified but i am also just so tired. i am tired of fighting with alexia, i am tired of feeling like i need to walk on eggshells around the two of you. i am tired of worrying about injuries or playing well or not playing well. so si, i will play the rest of of this season with barca and then i will retire, everything was made official today." you rambled on, stopping yourself before you could spiral any further and falling silent.

the couple shared a few looks as if speaking without words which made your stomach knot up again with nerves, anxious for what they would both have to say about it as they gave one another a small nod and turned back to you.

"okay." your sister started softly, a small frown creasing into your eyebrows. "you're not mad?" you asked, still apprehensive for her reaction. "no hermanita, how could i be mad at the cost of your happiness? i am disappointed that the fierce barca legacy of the león sisters is no more, but that is only on the pitch." she started with a smile.

"i am not mad but i am worried about you, why did you not come and speak to me about it? about any of this?" she asked, her hurt disguised in her voice but not in the glint of her eyes.

"actually after everything i can see why, and that is my fault." mapi quickly corrected, forcing a pained smile.

"i am so sorry for not being a better sister or making you feel like you could come to me about this and about your relationship with ale. i have blown up a big part of your life and i will never stand in the way of you trying to start a new one again." your sister promised sincerely as you nodded.

"if not barcelona anymore, where will you go?" ingrid finally spoke, sending you a kind smile as she grabbed her girlfriends hand. "i am going to volunteer with the united nations. they have a six month program that sends you around the world wherever aid or help is needed." you answered, both older girls across from you with wide eyes at your words.

"wow." mapi breathed out. "how did you-"

"alba helped me. she has a friend who heads the recruitment, got me in touch and put in a good word. i actually only heard back yesterday with an offer for a spot." you responded somewhat shyly, still trying to wrap your head around the opportunity.

you didn't have time to say another word, two bodies launching at you and wrapping you tightly in a hug as your sister kissed your cheek repeatedly mumbling about how proud she was of you.

"bueno bueno! thank you for the support but get off." you laughed, unable to even begin to describe the sense of relief at the weight which was melting off your shoulders finally having come clean, and it having gone a lot better than you worried.

"have you told mami? or the team? or your-" "si, mami knows. alba knows. alexia knows. the barca staff know. but i am not ready to tell the team just yet, por favor." you pleaded, both girls assuring they would not tell.

"so you spoke with alexia then?" ingrid asked cautiously, unsure if this was something you'd wish to speak about. "yes. we had an....honest conversation." you sighed, settling back into the sofa.

"the two of you..." mapi trailed off now, also with an air of caution not wanting to overstep. "no. i do not know what could be done to fix things now, the damage is done and it is there and it still hurts. but with some time apart, maybe we could become friends again." you forced a smile, trying to remain optimistic despite the dull thumping ache in your chest any time you thought about the blonde.

"okay hermana. are you still going to go to malta? pina mentioned alba convinced you to go, and we know alexia is also still going." your sister asked with a raised eyebrow, the two of them not going as norway had two games to play during the break which mapi planned to go and support ingrid at.

"yes, we still have the rest of the season to go and i do not want to have to keep arguing and avoiding her. i think after our talk we have a sort of, understanding." you winced slightly, knowing no matter if you wanted to go on the trip or not alba would be forcing you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

part seven

i would like to lovingly remind you all before you implode that this is not yet the endddd, we still have at least one, maybe two, chapters left to go

#alexia putellas x reader #woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso #mapi leon x reader #ingrid engen #woso imagine #woso blurbs #fcb femeni

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wynnyfryd · 8 months

Text

Trailer Park Steve AU part 6

part 1 | part 5

October

It's Wednesday night, which means dinner at the Hendersons. Steve finally decided to show his face — and no, not because Dustin's doorstep song and dance had any effect on him; it was partly because he was sick of hearing muted metal music from across the street and mostly because he hadn't left the trailer in three days and he was starting to feel and smell like shit.

So, anyway. Dinner. Ma Henderson's pulled out all the stops: prepped a homemade lasagna, stocked the fridge with full-sugar sodas and bought the good brand of key lime pie; invited the Sinclair and Wheeler kids to make a little party of it. (Nancy was 'unfortunately too busy to attend,' thank fucking god.)

But then Ma got stuck late at work, so now it's all hands on deck. Mike and Erica are setting the table — Steve can hear Mike bitching at her because she told him the knives go the other way, dumbass; Lucas is at the fridge filling cups with ice and Pepsi and muttering to himself about how much better Coke is; Steve's got an eye on the oven, waiting for the cheese on the lasagna to bubble up juuust right; and Dustin is using "prepping the salad" as an excuse to corner Steve and annoy the ever-loving crap out of him.

“What do you mean it’s hard?” Dustin whines, dropping a handful of shredded carrots into the wooden bowl. “Just talk to him!”

Steve takes a deep breath. Mourns, briefly, for the night he could have had; the girls he could be doing hand stuff with in the back of the Beemer instead of putting up with this kid's shit. “I don’t wanna Just Talk to Him." He bends to peek through the oven door. "And, also: get off my ass about it, alright? I came to dinner, I'm heating up the lasagna. I'm, like, participating or whatever. What more do you want?”

“For you to talk to Eddie! Obviously!" Dustin's tossing the greens so aggressively that it kinda feels like he wishes he was pummeling Steve instead, and when he throws his hands up, little flecks of iceberg lettuce go raining to the floor.

Steve eyes the leafy green confetti. "You're cleaning that up."

"Come on, dude," Dustin begs. "It's been two weeks! What's the point of having friends who are next door neighbors if they refuse to get along?”

Behind them, Lucas supplies in a weirdly strangled tone: “This really doesn’t seem like the way to get him to talk to Eddie."

Thank you. Steve couldn't agree more. He turns to tell him as much and realizes the reason Lucas' voice sounded like that is because he's trying to make one trip to the dining room at any fucking cost. He's got an armful of drinking glasses and three cans of Pepsi tucked under his chin, and he's about to fumble the whole wobbly stack.

"Jesus Christ, man, cut that out!" Steve swoops in to grab the cans before they can join the lettuce shower Dustin just made. He doesn't care how much he loves Claudia, he will leave without helping if they splatter soda all over this floor. Mews the Second can lick it clean for all he cares, he's so for real. "Two at a time," he says sternly, taking the extra cups from Lucas’ hold and handing him back a reasonable amoint. He sends Lucas out of the room with a knee to the ass.

"Hey!" Lucas pouts.

"Hey yourself," he grins.

Lucas sticks out his tongue like a child (because he is one, Steve reminds himself), and when he shoulders the swinging door to the dining room he almost brains his little sister, who makes a graceful side-step and comes strutting through undeterred.

"Are you two nerds done playing good cop, annoying cop with Steve?"

"Ah-!" Dustin gawps. "I better not be the annoying cop!"

"Uh, yeah. Obviously, you are." She props a fist on her hip, a little tyrant in the making, and Steve’s ribs go tender with a fond, vaguely proud ache. He really loves her so much. "Now scram. I need to borrow Steve."

On second thought.

Surely at some point these kids, like, owe him money or some shit for the amount of weary sighs they've caused him to let out. Like, financial compensation for the years taken off his life? Something?

"Yes, Erica?" he asks, nostrils flared; eyes closed.

"You should talk to Eddie."

"Oh, Jesus fucking Christ." Steve looks up to the ceiling, pleading for anyone to grant him strength, then he turns to pull the lasagna out of the oven and watches the bubbles sizzle and pop in the hot cheese until he no longer feels like blowing up at a little girl. "Okay. Okay. And I should listen to you because…?"

Screw financial compensation.

He deserves a presidential medal for how calm he's keeping his tone.

Erica's glaring fiercely at him when he glances her way, and why is every kid he knows such a brave, confrontational little shit? "Because," she explains, "He's being mean to my brother."

Oh, fuck no. "What do you mean?" he asks, voice dropping to an urgent hiss as he feels his hackles raise. Like hell is he letting some Billy 2.0 hang around his kids. "Is he, like- Is he saying shit about you guys?"

She spares him from trying to find a tactful way to ask what he's really asking. "No," she says shortly. "But he is being a bastard about him joining the basketball team—"

"Language—" Oh, what's the point.

"—and those two nerds out there? Are obsessed with him. Especially Mike. Like, ob-sessed.” She writes the letters out in the air in front of her to really drive home the point. “Mike likes whatever Eddie likes, so you need to convince Eddie to like Lucas before Lucas loses his friends over this stupid 'jocks versus freaks' crap." She lowers her voice and jabs the skywriting finger into his shoulder hard enough to bruise. "And if you tell Lucas I said any of this? It is on. sight, Steve. I will crush you."

"Jesus Christ."

"So, we good?"

"Uh huh," Steve stammers. "Y-yep. Understood."

Wow. So dignified, Steve. Really loved how you let a ten year old intimidate you. He's saved from any further bullying by the sound of keys jangling in the lock.

"Dusty!" Claudia calls out through the door, "Dustybunny, can you come help? My hands are full!"

In the dining room Steve hears Dustin groan while Mike and Lucas start immediately tearing into him for the name, mocking 'Dustybunny; oh, Dustybun!' in stupid sing-song tones.

"So I'm just gonna..." Steve says awkwardly, inching toward the door. "Go get that."

"Mhmm." Erica gives him an unimpressed look. "You do that."

—

"Oh, Steve, sweetie, thank you!" Claudia says when he opens the door, cheerful and sweet as always. He goes to take her bags from her, but she drops them all at her feet and steps forward to give him a hug, a firm and tender thing that makes an annoying lump form in his throat.

"How are you?" she asks, stepping back to look at him; eyes raking over his face, hands on his cheeks. Really looks. She frowns at whatever she sees. "How's your mom?"

"Can you please just talk to me?" Steve begs, shivering in the hallway because they haven't budgeted for turning on the heat just yet. Wasn't supposed to get this cold for another pay cycle. He tugs the ends of his sweatshirt sleeves. His limbs feel stiff and tense, a budding anxiety like there’s a bomb in the base of his spine.

"Steven, darling, not now," his mother sighs as she sinks demurely onto the couch. "Then when!" he explodes. He doesn't want to yell at her, but, "Seriously, when? When are we going to say anything to each other that actually fucking matters, mom? I feel like I barely even know you anymore!"

"Yes, and I feel a migraine coming on; are you quite finished?"

"….She's fine," Steve answers.

Could be true, for all he knows.

The wrinkles between Claudia's brows deepen, like she wants to press the subject but decides to hold her tongue. "That's good to hear," she settles on after a moment, giving him a gentle pat on the cheek before stepping away with a subtle look that’s not mad, just disappointed.

Steve kind of wants to cry.

"Mom! Food!" Dustin hollers from the other room.

Steve rolls his eyes. "I swear I try to teach him manners."

"Well, good luck with that," she grins, the shadow of tension between them dissipating. Her mood is good like that. Resilient. Strong. Immune to outside force.

Steve’s moods, on the other hand, are more like those stainless steel fridges that promise to remain spotless but then end up covered in grubby handprints. (Exhibit A: he’s doing it right now.)

Thankfully Claudia’s got enough sunshine in her for the both of them. “Come on,” she says, extending a hand and wiggling her fingers for him to grab hold. “Let's eat."

—

part 7

#trailer park steve au #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie fic #dustin henderson #claudia henderson #erica sinclair #lucas sinclair #mike wheeler

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