#every little thing sets me off and I cry every day
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Injured: Before II
Alexia Putellas x Baby!Reader
Jenni Hermoso x Baby!Reader
Summary: You meet Jenni
The knocking at the door echoes in Alexia's skull.
It offers an unwelcome reprieve from the current drowning her. At this point, she will take the water.
But it's repetitive and she can't escape it even if she wants to.
There's no escape when everyone knows she's been closed up in her place since your birth.
Desperately, she hopes it's another flower arrangement. She's been receiving those a lot.
From her Mama and Alba, from the club, from the team, from random friends that have found out through the grapevine that you've been born.
The flowers are never ending and Alexia hopes it's just another delivery driver because she's struggling against the current and can't be bothered with meaningful interaction today.
It's not a delivery driver though.
It's Jenni and Alexia feels herself being pushed further under the water.
Jenni, who is smiling with a little gift hamper and looking so excited. Jenni, who is still in her training kit and has clearly come straight from practice. Jenni, who has been checking in every day since your birth.
Jenni, who is...who is standing on the bank of the river with buoy on a rope.
"I got you this," Jenni says when Alexia just stands there and stares," I didn't really know what you needed so I've got nappies and rash cream and chocolate because everything is better with chocolate. I couldn't get any teddies this short notice but there is a cuddly train which is weird but I bought it anyway and-"
"Jenni," Alexia says," You're rambling."
"Oh." Jenni takes a breath. "You're right."
She's still smiling though, still waiting on the bank of the river for Alexia to resurface.
Alexia takes the hamper, setting it off to the side. She thanks Jenni and tries to discreetly shut the door without it looking rude but stops halfway through when you start crying.
She sinks further under the running water.
When Jenni knocked, she'd been in the middle of a nap. It was one of the first things she'd learnt. When you were asleep, she should be asleep.
The other thing she's learnt is what each of your cries means. She thought her Mama had been making it up when she told Alexia that she and Alba used to cry for certain things. She thought it was just a joke when Eli told her that the cry for milk was different to the cry for a change.
This cry, though, is your cry for comfort. This cry is for affection and cuddles.
Alexia shuffles towards your crib, acutely aware of Jenni taking this opportunity to slip inside the messy house. Before you, it was always clean but now there's laundry to be put on and dishes in the sink and things scattered around on the floor.
You're crying and Alexia picks you up, rhythmically patting your back as you fuss.
"Come on," She whispers to you," Come on. I'm here. Stop crying. Please, stop crying. I'm right here."
She sinks further under the water. The current gets stronger and her feet hit the pebbles at the bottom.
Tears prick in Alexia's eyes.
"Come on," She says," Stop being silly."
"Ale-"
"I'm fine, Jenni," Alexia insists.
"Ale-"
"She's just being a little bit silly. She'll be asleep again soon."
"Ale-"
"Leave me alone!"
"Alexia!"
The current stops beating Alexia down and she slowly starts floating upwards.
"You're exhausted. Come on, give her here. I can look after her."
Alexia clutches you closer to her, shaking her head. "No," She says," No, Jenni...Jenni I...I can do this! I've done it before!"
"I know," Jenni soothes," I'm sure you have. But you're so tired, Ale. You're so, so tired and stressed. She knows you're stressed. Give her to her Tia Jenni and go to sleep."
Alexia shakes her head even as she surfaces from the water.
"I've got her. I promise that I've got her. You need sleep."
On the bank, Jenni throws the buoy out to her. She grabs it.
Alexia transfers you to Jenni.
On the bank, she's pulled out of the river.
Jenni guides her to bed and tucks her under the covers.
She steps back the moment Alexia drifts off.
You've stopped crying, looking up at Jenni with wide eyes. She's the first person you've properly seen apart from your Mami.
She laughs. "What's with the deer in headlights look? Huh?" She drifts into the living room, pulling the hamper over to the sofa.
She wraps you up tight in a soft pink blanket she bought especially for you.
You keep staring at her, eyes briefly glancing towards the stuffed train she's showing you.
"I'm serious," Jenni coos at you," Why do you look all shocked? Like a little dear, huh? Like bambi." She laughs. "It's so nice to finally meet you. I'm your Tia Jenni."
#woso x reader#alexia putellas x reader#alexia putellas#jenni hermoso x reader#jenni hermoso#woso community#woso fanfics#woso imagine#woso
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The Witch and The Viper | Eris x Reader
A/N: hey guys, this is a random account I made so I can post my fanfics without stress hahaha.
Story will be based in the middle of ACOWAR. y/n is kallias’ daughter from a one nightstand he had years prior to meeting his mate, she lives in winter with her father but travels prythian to learn more about the other courts. This will be a slow burn story, not really enemies to lovers but eris does do some stupid stuff that pisses y/n off later.
Annyyyways, I’ve changed soommme things in the OG story. I hope you enjoy this series xx (if you want to message me feel free I need other people to talk to about ACOTAR)
Triggers ( dead parent, mentions of abuse, scars )
—————-———————————————————-----------------------
It was a brisk winter morning when y/n started her patrol of the winter court border, a fresh blanket of snow crunched under her bare feet as she tiptoed on the cusp of Autumn.
As per her usual morning routine, she passed Eris Vanserra on his horse with two other high fae, as he too, did his morning patrol. Their eyes locked for a split second, a polite dip of the head from each of them in greeting, then they walked past each other. This is how it went for 120 years, until one day y/n got news her mother in the Day Court had passed away from a fever.
She left the Winter Court castle earlier that morning, the snow was already melting as the warmer weather started to set in. She sat under a tree and basked in the early rays of the sun, secret tears falling down her cheeks as she tried to imagine her mothers face.
"Who dares to make a witch cry?" came a sultry voice from across the boarder, y/n opened her eyes and looked to Eris, who leaned against a maple tree, the leaves almost matching the red of his hair.
Y/n sighed and tucked her knees to her chest before answering "my mother passed in the night".
"I'm sorry for your loss Witch" Eris said in a voice so soft she almost mistook it for empathy.
"Don't call me that" she hissed, hugging her knees a little tighter.
The Witch of Winter, was her unofficial title since she was a little girl. Y/N harboured a very ancient ability called "Coaxing", it allowed her to convince a man, an army, a king to do her bidding just by speaking words encased in magic.
It was the reason why her father, Kallias, took her from her mother's arms when she was 10 years old, he had heard his offspring had inherited the gift and needed it for his own. Her father, was not a cruel man, but in fact loved his daughter fiercely. He groomed her to be the perfect weapon, bringing her to every meeting and ball held in prythian. Kallias made sure that her mind and body was just as powerful as her gift, she read books almost daily and trained with her fathers war generals in combat.
Eris clicked his tongue and sauntered over to her, then to her surprise, he joined her. Her tearful eyes watched him with caution as he crossed his legs in the Autumn court, she knew he could not cross into winter or her father would see it as a threat.
"What are you doing?" she asked as she wiped her cheeks on the back of her hand.
The Autumn court male shrugged and began to crunch fallen leaves between his finger tips. A warm breeze blew between them and ruffled his now short hair. Y/N looked him over before she allowed a small smile to tug at her tips.
"You got a hair cut?" She asked, pivoting so she could face him fully. Eris kept his eyes on the leaves in his hands as he started to burn through them, small puffs of smoke snaked up his long fingers before he hummed in response.
"It looks nice" she offered, the small complement brought his amber eyes up to meet hers. He looked at her for a moment, taking in the baby blue dress she wore and how she had braided her hair to the side.
"Thank you" he smiled kindly.
This was the first time they had ever spoken outside of a meeting their fathers hosted. Their usual conversations consisted of political jargon that left y/n's head spinning, then they would go their seperate ways and talk to their friends. Y/N had heard many horrible things over the years about the Autumn court heir, stories of how he treated women and his youngest brother Lucien.
Her father urged her to keep her wits about her whenever he or his court were around, but on that day she didn't mind his company.
They spent that morning in silence, she quietly crying, while Eris burnt orange leaves.
When the sun was high in the sky, its warm rays kissing y/n's skin she rose from her spot under the tree. Eris tracked her from under his orange fringe that fell over his face while he was practicing his magic.
"Why do you walk around barefoot?" he asked, his chip dipping to her pale feet that stood out against the green grass that pushed threw the melting snow.
Y/N looked to her toe and wiggled them around on the ground.
"It makes me feel more connected to my court" she explained "it's a Day Court tradition" she continued, her voice soft as she remembered her mother explaining the importance of being connected to where they live.
Eris stood and brushed the loose leaves from his pants " an odd tradition" he mumbled then stood straight. Seeing him off horse back she had never noticed how tall he truely was, how his clothing hugged each muscle and how many freckles lined his nose.
"It was a pleasure to spend the morning with you, witch" he said with a small bowl and a sly smile that made his eyes light up.
Y/N rolled her eyes, but before she could offer up a retort Eris had winnowed away.
"Coward" she chuckled to herself and slowly made her way back to the Winter Court castle, where she could hide away in her room and tuck herself into bed with a good book.
Weeks passed since that interaction with Eris. Y/N didn't see him as much on her morning patrols as she used to, but when she did things were more or less back to normal.
What wasn't normal was the morning she spotted Eris with bruises and healing cuts all over his face. When they passed each other that morning he didn't look to her, he trotted on as if she didn't exist.
"What happened to you?" Y/N asked as she turned to walk closer to the Autumn court. Eris pulled the reigns on his horse but did not look to her "I fell" he grumbled out.
"You.. fell? where into a vipers den?" She joked coming around to the front of his horse so she could look him in the eyes.
His cheek was still purple and swollen and the cut on hips lip was still bleeding, his wounds were fresh. Y/N let out a small gasp when he looked down to her, the white of his left eye was blotched with red. It was then it dawned on her he didn't fall, he was beaten.
"Eris.." she breathed and made to take a step forward, he raised his hand and stopped her in her tracks. "I don't need your pity" he bit out startling her slightly. She regained her composure and crossed her arms, tilting her head to the side as she studied him.
"Get off your horse" she ordered, she didn't use her magic in hopes eris would just listen.
"You don't order -"
"Get off the damn horse eris" she barked at the male, his face blanched for a second before he obeyed. He hadn't expected her tone to be so.. harsh. Eris only knew y/n as a quiet girl that was stolen from her home, to order him around was something no one expected.
He clutched the horses reigns in his hands as he strode over to where she stood.
"For sitting with me when I had no one" she whispered to him as she raised glowing hands to his face, he looked at her with a sense of awe. Healing was a day court power, obviously one she had inherited from her mother, but it was not documented that she had this ability.
He brought his face to her hands while the magic did its job, he felt his pain ease and then disappear all together.
When she was done she took a few steps back, studying her work.
"All better" she mused and offered him a kind smile, she didn't wait for him to respond before she continued her walk in Winter.
She left him standing there, clutching the horse reigns so tightly his fingernails had left marks in the palm of his hand.
He watched y/n until she vanished behind a tall pine tree, loosening a breath he turned and remounted his horse.
The witch of winter was the first person in a very long time that showed the heir of Autumn any kindness, a kindness he would not forget.
#eris vanserra#eris x reader#acotar#a court of thorns and roses#lucien fanfic#lucien vanserra#azriel shadowsinger#azriel x reader#rhysand#rhysand x reader#eris fanfic#eris acotar
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seriously considering making a mental health blog
#tw// mental health#i have been going through a very very difficult time#this master's degree is killing me and at this point i'm not even sure I wasn to go on#between writing my thesis and doing my internship#and having an advisor who scares and who I have to see for four hours straight every thursday#and having new medication that's messing with me on every level#and my brain being evil to me every day#i don't know you guys... I just don't feel like I have to strength to do everything#every little thing sets me off and I cry every day#my meds are making me so slow that I see a sentence more than 10 words longer all the letters startes jumping around and mushing together#I'm so scared of going to school#being around people and a environment that seems strange and distant to plus a professor that scares me and makes me feel dumb and stupid#I'm thinking about bad things all the time and I can't make them go away#i'm just. tired and sad and nervous and feeling like i'm losing control of myself#I'm losing my strength#I can't count on my friends anymore and losing them#I feel lifeless and hollow and sad and alone and abandonment and useless and horrible#I just want to have a space so I can just. air everything out basically#I just need to feel heard#but I don't want this blog to be a place of negativity and sadness#I treasure this blog and the people i've met here#I just don't know#I don't know what to do
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#ignore me I’m just venting here bc I have nowhere else to vent#but idk what’s wrong with me#these days#every little thing seems to make me have an emotional meltdown#like every tiny thing sets me off#I’ve always kind of been like this but never this bad#and I had gotten so much better these past one or two years#but this month especially I’m just lashing out and crying and screamign at everything and everyone#over the smallest things#and if one little tiny thing doesn’t go my way I have a meltdown#like in the sense that if I have a certain order of doing things#and something gets messed up or affects the order#i literally break down#and it’s insane bc I’m 23 years old#and then I need to have someone reassuring me#and I just don’t know what’s wrong with me#like I can literally feel the emotions coming on and yet I can’t stop myself from lashing out#and then I regret it so much#by lashing out I mean I start screaming and having a meltdown btw in case y’all thought I’m out here attacked people physically 😭😂#which obv I’m not#but I’ve always low-key prided myself in being able to self reflect and realise my own flaws and when I’ve done something wrong#and this is an ongoing problem with me and idk what’s up#at first I thought it was my period but this is continuous even when I’m not on my period#like idk what’s wrong with me#I’ll worry about something and I’ll stress over it and cry about it like I’m having some sort of breakdown#and if I told you what I was stressing over y’all would laugh and be like wtf who stresses over that#WHICH IS TRUE#but I feel so overwhelmed and like I’m this close to just losing it#and by losing it idk what I mean… like literally just feel like screaming and screaming#like my emotions are all over the place
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Ruined!
Pairing: dbf!Joel x Reader
Summary: Joel is an old man who struggles to cum sometimes. You’ve got time to kill and a tight hole to fill.
Warnings: 18+. Peepaw brainrot + a dash of anorgasmia. Unprotected p-in-v, cockwarming, age gap, daddy kink.
Note: Finals are whooping my ass left & right. This is a quickie.
Word count: 1.2k | Part of the Waiting Game ‘verse
Surely he was hurting you now.
Joel Miller had a kink for many, many fun activities, but splitting a sweet young thing like you over his cock to the point you were almost in tears was just not one of them.
At the same time your poor, surely-bruised walls pulsed around his hardened length, he felt a pang of guilt. His balls were pressed against your ass like two lead weights, soaked with the remains of your third release, and his mind was at war with itself—keep fucking you like this? Pull out and offer his sincerest apologies for not being able to cum? A boy your age would’ve never had you waiting around like that, aching around his cock, much less begging for something as simple as a cumshot.
He decided to go straight to the source. Leaning over your prone body on the bed before him, he was careful not to rut his hips or jostle his dick around too much.
Joel pressed a hot, stubbled kiss to your cheek, then:
“‘S’it too much, baby? She need a break, maybe?”
Joel thumbed at that space where your body ended and his began and nearly lost his mind to the pearly-white slick that had accumulated with time. Two hours time, he had to remind himself while you moaned and writhed and bucked your ass back. Your cunt was choking him.
Crying, too.
Your eyes flew open the moment his words reached you.
“You kiddin’ me, Miller?! I could do this shit all day.”
Sometimes Joel forgot you were only in your twenties. Really, the thought only occasionally crossed his mind in moments like these—or when your father, his best friend, happened to bring you up—but when it did, it hit him hard. You were young. Lively. Surely far too spry and full of life to be messing around with a man as old as him.
Joel’s guilt ran almost commensurate with his pleasure when he felt you anchor your feet on the bed and start to fuck yourself back and forth over his still-throbbing dick.
Almost.
He planted a hand beside your head and grinned. He let you fuck him. Felt you pull off, crawl up the bed a little, then beckon him back to your body, where your ass was now pointing up and your back was arched in invitation.
Almost.
“You know I can’t sleep without your cum inside me.”
And you made a point to spread your knees and look behind you with a smile as sweet as Milo’s tea, fingers drumming a beat against the bedspread in anticipation.
“You do wanna fill me up, don’t you, daddy?” you teased.
Yeah, no. The guilt was gone. Joel could worry about being a depraved old man when he was done cumming.
Then he was back inside you, driving his hips until every last inch of him was wrapped snug within your wet and velvety embrace, and he sighed. A real protracted one, like the kind he was liable to exhale after climbing two flights of stairs, or else just hoisting himself off the sofa. Or lifting you in his arms and fucking you hard against the hood of his Bronco. Any time. Any place. You were kind enough to oblige him with the best cardio of his life, so the least Joel could do now was make you cum again.
He snatched your hands up in one of his own and placed your wrists at the base of your spine. With his other, free set of fingers he took to rubbing your clit gently.
“SON OF A—”
“—good girl.”
You let out a bloodcurdling scream into your pillow and secretly hoped this man’s dick would never deflate again. Not with the way he was sawing his thing back and forth and dragging you to the edge, circling your clit like you were the single most precious thing in the world to him.
“Oh, sweet pea, I didn’t mean to make you cry.”
Like he could feel the tears staining the cushion himself.
“Mmrooonme,” you cried into it, voice garbled by cotton.
“What’s’at, honey? Can’t hear ya.”
Joel then bent at the waist, pretending to be leaning in to hear you better, when really he knew he’d be digging in your guts with that big, bulbous head of his and making you squeal again. Hands still held captive behind you, you inched your chin back on the pillow so your moans could be heard even louder while Joel sped up.
“You— ruined me,” you repeated. Now clear as ever.
Joel tried to hide his smile and glanced down between your body and his. Then, while his ring finger joined the other two to make their tight, light circles, he returned,
“Ruined? Pussy feels just fine t’me.”
You’d kill him if he wasn’t so good at this. You turned your head more to meet his eyes from the corner of yours.
“No. Ruined me. For anyone else.”
Probably forever.
“Good.”
You knew he liked it that way.
You saw it in his eyes. Felt it in his touch. The hefty, broad, and greying Joel Miller had been loafing around on this earth long enough to know how to claim what was his. When his hips knocked yours to lay you flat on the bed, you already knew what was coming next.
First, his arms came to rest on either side of your body.
“Shit,” you whimpered.
Next, his lips went trailing down to your ear.
“Just a little more, sugar—that’s it,” he murmured while his hips sank in, and you felt that big, delicious stretch.
Then he released your hands so they were free to squeeze the sheets, and when they did, his moved over them—lacing his fingers through your own—and his lips pressed a kiss to your jaw. He held you in a tender grasp. His breath was hot on your neck, and the whole of his body was blanketing yours. Joel knew you liked it like that, which is why he made sure not to leave an inch of space in between. He was grunting, rutting, holding you close while his cock drilled a maddening pace inside you.
“You ruined me too, y’know,” he mumbled into your skin.
His nose was flush with the side of your cheek, nudging inward. Begging you to turn your head just a little more so he could kiss you. Weak as you were, you obliged.
And you moaned against that grey, stubbled chin of his when the thrusts above you had your cunt grinding the bed, rubbing that soft and helpless nub on the sheets.
“C’mon— let daddy have it,” he growled, “Let daddy have it and make it his, huh? That okay by you, baby?”
It was.
More than okay, as confirmed by the orgasm that tore through your body moments later while your teeth sank into the flesh of Joel’s lower lip and your cunt clenched and soaked over him whole. Joel wedged his tongue in your mouth and fucked you through it. His broad and callused hands were like iron around your own, holding you tight and keeping you still amidst a maelstrom of pleasure that combed over your every last nerve.
He licked into your mouth. Licked over it. Took the sick and distinct pleasure of knowing no one but him got to see you like this, with your jaw hanging slack and your eyes rolling back and your whines repeating quietly, ‘Daddydaddypleasedaddyfuckohfuckdontstop.’
Maybe ruined wasn’t such a bad thing to be at all.
#NOBODY SPEAK TO ME UNTIL I’VE HAD MY MORNING COFFEE#AND BY MORNING COFFEE I MEAN THIS MAN’S LOAD IN MY MOUTH#PREFERABLY FOLLOWED BY AN OLD FASHIONED#joel miller smut#joel miller#joel miller tlou#joel miller imagine#joel miller one shot#joel miller x reader#joel miller fanfiction#the last of us#tlou#the last of us fic#joel miller x you
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rafe x crybaby!reader who cries and has a full on meltdown in front of rafe and his friends because he said no when she asked him to buy her this new expensive bag!🎀
ahhh i’m sorry i honestly hate the way i wrote this so much im so sorry i really hope you like it:< rafe is just a little mean but i mean come on! it’s rafe <3 im sorry i didn’t really make her have like a whole real big meltdown i just honestly couldn’t write it :<
‘DENIED’ the website reads, just as you were about to finish off your purchase for the new pink limited edition bag you had been eyeing. what? you frown, quickly jumping off your bed, slipping into your pink crocs— following the noise downstairs, knowing rafe and his friends were hanging out in the living room.
“rafe?” you call, giving a quick greeting to topper and kelce before sitting besides your boyfriend. “whys it say that?,” you ask, glittery gloss lips in a form of a halfway pout as you show your phone to rafe.
he leans in, taking a quick glance at it before a small chuckle leaves his lips. “you.. you uh.. really don’t remember?”
your brows furrow, head tilting. “what do you mean, ray?” confusion laced in your voice.
he looks away briefly before landing back at you. “well.. thanks to that little stunt you pulled on monday, i decided i won’t be paying for anymore of your little shopping sprees ‘till next week.” he states, lips smacking together.
“w-what?” you nervously giggle, cheeks starting to heat up.
it was safe to say, you weren’t used to rafe telling you no. every single thing you wanted or asked for was given to you in a few days thanks to express shipping.
you had got perfectly accustomed to the title of being rafe’s spoiled girlfriend. constantly skipping over prices and simply swiping his card. “i.. i thought you were only kidding, daddy.” you mumble softly, not wanting the boys to hear.
“i don’t kid about setting you straight, baby.” he says simply, your eyes already starting to burn.. embarrassment clouding your mind.
“but you already punished me!” you whine as quietly as you can, one of the small tears up in your eyes falls as you recollect the memory of when he had you bent over his lap, spanking you until your ass was practically engraved with his handprint.
“please daddy, it’ll already be sold out by next week,” you cry, trying to make him understand.
but he only looks away, shaking his head. “don’t you have enough purses anyway? bought you plenty already.” he continues, making more tears stream down your cheek at his reluctance.
you notice topper and kelce staring now, concerned with whatever it was you were crying about, looking to themselves with confused expressions. rafe however, was used to your dramatics.
“you’re just being mean, rafe! i already paid for my mistake.” you plead, grabbing his hands and squeezing them lightly.
topper clears his throat, clearly feeling uncomfortable with the whole situation. kelce hides a small smirk, but pretends not to hear the ordeal anyway.
rafe couldn’t care less for the audience, always loving when he had any spotlight with the way he handled you. an opportunity to flaunt the power dynamic between you two.
rafe puts on a faux pout, even making a small “awe” sound as he moves one hand to wipe your tears. “oh i’m being mean, really? that.. that supposed to make me cave in, hm? let you run along and think every single punishment isn’t serious?”
he was so cruel you thought, his mocking pulling at your heart in a negative way. “hey, stop crying, okay? you know im not doing this for fun. these are consequences to your actions.” he prompts, every tear that falls on your cheek being wiped by his hands.
“p-please, just this once..” you mewl. “i promise i wont ask for another bag for awhile, promise! i’ll be real good.” you beg.
maybe it was the way your sad eyes looked at him, or the way your manicured hand squeezed his own, or maybe he just wanted you to stop bugging him, thinking about the blow job he’d ask for later— or maybe it was simply cause he had grown soft. but regardless, he still bites his lips and nods. “alright fine— i’ll buy it now so it doesn’t sell out, but when it comes you’re gonna give it me to hold it until next week still.” he tells you, filling in his card information on the site.
“r-really? oh thank you!” you squeal, giving him a tight hug. “mhm, better be.”
#tracymbcm#rafe ౨ৎ#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron smut#rafe obx#rafe x reader#rafe x you#rafe outer banks#rafe smut#rafe imagine#outerbanks rafe#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe fanfic#rafe fic#rafe cameron fic#drew starkey#drew starkey x reader#drew starkey smut#drew starkey imagine#drew starkey fanfic#drew starkey fanfiction#outerbanks smut#outerbanks imagine#outerbanks x reader#outerbanks fic#rafe cameron thoughts
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you found out today that a phrase you have used before was coined by an abusive man. this felt like getting your teeth taken out. it made you sick and sad and tired, but not surprised.
bad people tell you to be careful when you talk badly of bad men, that it could "ruin" a life. you had your life ruined by a bad man, not that it ever matters to them. your real life having real consequences is not valued as highly as the potential of his future.
this has always been a frustrating little mathematics problem for you. you've missed school and had to call out sick at work and had panic attacks that lasted for weeks. it stole sleep and food and friends from you. you cried in public, fucked your relationships up. and the whole time: your present has never mattered so much as the great what if! of his future. like - one life (your life) is already ruined, should we really ruin two?
so you live with the consequences and he doesn't, and that's just like, something you need therapy for. you once discussed this with one of your friends over coffee. she chewed the wooden stirrer, looked off into the distance. "once i became a victim, everything that happens to me afterward is automatically less interesting in the eyes of the general public. it is always about him. he changed my identity. to survivor. to statistic. meanwhile this whole time - i am a person."
you learned in college that three out of five of your favorite artists and authors were actually abusive assholes. these days, you are no longer surprised. oh, is that what was happening behind closed doors? of course it was, he was a "genius," and she was just a girl. you are talking about him in art history, so obviously his career was absolutely ruined, for eternity. that's what happens, right? they strike your name from the record and refuse to remember you? nobody really knows her name, but hey. that's what you get for being close to celebrity.
you got into an argument about it, which was a bad argument, because it made you cry. he said what, you want us to just ignore all the things this man did because he made a few women uncomfortable? and you'd balled your fists up and choked on it. later, in bed, you agonized over the response you'd been trying to articulate but never found the right moment to deploy: you are ignoring what any person could do if they weren't being fucking abused. maybe her talents far exceeded his and she was just never allowed to fucking use them. maybe we only see genius in white men because they purposefully fucking squash and silence any other people with talent.
but you'd cried about it instead of saying that, because you are the cost. you are the talent and potential that he took. you used to be brave and smart and clever and unafraid. like a lich, he stole years of your life.
quiet on set made you sad and sick and tired, but not surprised. unfortunately, one of the things he said was true: an entire network of people allowed it to continue. this is not news to you, because you have seen entire networks of people make the same fucking excuses when the same thing or-worse happened to you. and your particular story isn't even in hollywood. it was just a guy. it was still difficult getting people to stand up for you.
you and your friend wait in line for your coffee. like a standup joke, one man turns to the other and says "can't wait for every bitch to come crawling out of the woodwork complaining about harassment. it's another metoo." and you think - oh, that's the network. your boss tucks her hair back and whispers that while your skirt is cute, you're giving the boys the wrong idea. that's the network. when you'd told your "friend" about what happened, she'd said oh you must have misunderstood, that would never happen. and that's the network.
you woke up this morning panting, because years later you still have panic attacks. oh, it's not a network, actually, it's a web. and you, little moth: are you still surprised you're caught in it?
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Kinktober Day 1 - 'Love' Bites | Overstimulation - Astarion x Fem!Reader
Love bites | Overstimulation | Impact play
Coming out the gates strong with 3500+ words for this man. It has not been edited, I have work in the morning, I'm going to bed.
Summary: With the promise of taking you to a quiet little piece of nowhere to forget all the madness of the adventure, Astarion pulls out all the stops to ensure you forget everything, except the pleasure he gives you.
Warnings: NSFW, Blood, Vampire Kink, Overstimulation, Crying, Light Choking, Dirty Talk
You and Astarion had always had an arrangement.
To say you bonded quickly with your party would be an understatement - having the tadpole within your mind and surviving the same crash tends to form that immediate trauma bond. But you and the vampire had formed a deeper understanding of each other much sooner than the others.
That night, so early on in your adventure, when you awoke to the man perched over you, fangs bared and your throat exposed for the taking, things simply couldn’t go back to the status quo.
It fogged your mind the entirety of the next day, the proximity, the adrenaline, the pure, undiluted hunger.
You’ve allowed him to feed from you every night since.
You played it off as trust, at first. Trust in him, a want to have him fully strengthened for battle. Nothing but business.
But it didn’t take long for him to understand your underlying motivation, the reason you allowed yourself to feel drained, exhausted, and weak for each battle moving forward, perpetually distracted by the memory of his lips and teeth at your neck. The memory welcomed the fantasies with open arms, fantasies of his hands wandering as he drank, kissing your lips with your own blood on his own, his fangs sinking into your thighs, before wandering higher…
Still, you were never going to force it.
So, you allowed him to continue to drink, both aware of the growing tension, both refusing to move further.
Until that changed.
When Astarion came to you, offering for you both to find a “little piece of nowhere”, somewhere to “forget all this madness”, you sure as hell weren’t about to decline.
A chance to get him out of your head was exactly what you needed to think clearly.
Night had long since fallen, as you sat pretending to read one of many absurd tomes Gale had collected throughout the journey. A life of adventuring doesn’t make for the most consistent sleep schedule, and as such awaiting for the entire party to call it a night was practically torment as you tried to ignore the growing heat between your legs.
But no amount of pretending to study the Oral Histories of Faerun could distract you from wondering what pleasures tonight would bring.
When finally, finally, Karlach decided to call it a night, you waited a few moments more before creeping off to where Astarion had told you to meet him.
Any other night it may have been eerie, creeping through the woods unarmed as the moon rose high in the sky. But all you could feel was the anticipation growing, humming in every nerve of your body like someone had struck you with a Witch Bolt.
Your heart nearly stopped as movement caught your eye.
There, emerging from the trees, already shirtless, was the vampire.
You had seen him in various states of undress before - curing wounds of various weapons and spells will do that. But there was something different about it in this circumstance, seeing him perfectly unscathed, strong and confident from the weeks of draining your life from your veins, silver hair and pale skin hauntingly beautiful in the moonlight.
“There you are,” he spoke lowly, striding slowly towards you. “I’ve been waiting. Waiting since the moment I set eyes on you. Waiting to have you.”
While the words themselves made you blush, you couldn’t help comment.
“The moment you set eyes on me you had a knife to my throat.”
“Ah,” he sighed, walking slowly around you, bringing his fingers to lightly trail up your arm. “But if you remember, I did notice then and there what a darling neck you had, I just knew it would be heavenly.”
He closed the distance between you, and you could promptly feel his strong form cold against your back, a prominent bulge pressing into you, and his breath on your neck making you lightheaded.
His hand trailed down your neck to trace the marks he had been leaving nightly. “And I was right.”
Despite how little he had done, you had grown so wound up from the endless fantasies from his nights of feeding that you were already weak in the knees.
His left hand lightly began to caress your thigh, as his right takes to untying the strings of your loose shirt, his mouth never stopping.
“You’ve been so helpful these last few weeks darling, allowing me for the first time to indulge in the blood of a human, giving me strength at your expense. You’ve been so good for me too, holding back all those little sounds you’ve been wanting to make, pretending like you don’t get wet just at the thought of me drinking from you, like you don’t get soaked from the moment my lips touch your neck. Hmm?”
Your breathing was already heavy, your thighs already squeezing together in some attempt for stimulation - it was already too much. All you could do was nod, a breathy “yes” escaping you as your shirt is undone, falling to the forest floor.
His hands begin to explore, lightly tracing up your arms, down your stomach, across your collarbone. “And you’ve been working so hard, haven’t you my love? To keep us alive, to keep us all going. You’ve been so helpful to all of us, to me, I think it’s time I take some weight off of those pretty little shoulders.”
Suddenly, forcefully, he spins you around, steadying you by grabbing your hips. You look into the red eyes that gaze at you intently, with an emotion that is so close to something like love, devotion, but feeling just slightly too forced, slightly too uncanny.
That gaze is a problem for another day, you determine, as he sinks to his knees and gazes up at you, untying your trousers.
After all, the love may not be real, but the lust in his eyes sure as hell is.
He makes slow work of the fabric, speaking up at you the entire time.
“Dearest, I intend to do exactly as I promised. I want to repay you for the kindness you’ve given me, the trust you’ve placed in me. Allow me to please you, to make you forget about everything, if only for a night. Will you allow me this?”
You nodded, mutely, as you stepped out of your pants.
He gazed up at you again, eyes drinking you in, darkening as they travel up your body, stopping at between your legs, your chest, your neck.
When his eyes met yours again, he stood up quickly, cupping your cheek and pulling you into a deep kiss.
You had thought about this moment too often.
What he would taste like, how his fangs would feel against your tongue, how his lips would feel against yours. He pulled you into him desperately, and the sensation of your bare chest against his made your head spin, gasping into the kiss as he took full control, kissing you with such a passion that you might have thought there was more to it than a simple need for release, repayment.
He pulled away all too soon, thumb caressing your lower lip as he gazed at you in that absurdly sultry way of his.
“Before I take your breath away,” he breathed out, pausing to kiss your cheek. “I need to know what you want from me darling.” Another pause, a kiss to the jaw now. “Tell me how to please you.” A kiss behind the ear. “Tell me how to make you scream.”
You were barely keeping it together, eyes already fluttering closed.
A sharp bite to the neck, not enough to bleed, but enough to make you gasp, brought you out of it. His red eyes gazed at you intently, awaiting your response.
“I want you to take control,” you speak, feeling as though you’re giving a confession. “I don’t want to think. I want you to drain me of my blood, of my thoughts. Make me cum, make me scream, make me feel so good it hurts, until I’m begging you to stop, Astarion.”
“Oh, darling,” he nearly growled, his hand caressing your cheek. “I'll do just that.”
He spun you again, once again catching you off guard. Within moments, you feel him press up against you again, this time the hardness of his cock being released from his pants, discarded far into the forest you assumed.
“You mustn’t keep a sound from me, by the way,” he spoke lightly. “I’ll know if you do.”
You aren’t allowed much time to consider that as you feel his lips on your neck, pecking and lightly biting and sucking. His hands trail upwards to cup your breasts, slowly, softly, deeply massaging, as though he’s trying to feel every inch of your skin. His fingers lightly pinch and tug against your peaks, and he leaves soft bites on your neck, never enough to break the skin.
It had only been moments, but you’re whining, and you can feel your wetness dripping down your thigh.
“Astarion, please,” you breathe, hand coming up to lace in his hair in an attempt to force him deeper into your neck.
He just laughed. “Darling I’ve barely touched you and you’re begging. Allow me to take my time with you.”
His left hand stays at your breast as his right once again wanders downward, slowly reaching your inner thigh.
“I can smell it, you know,” he muttered lowly in your ear, and you almost squeak, flushed with embarrassment. “Every time you’re so wet you can barely think, stuck in your little fantasies as I drink from you. You do so well, hiding your wants from me, but I’ve always known, and I’ve always wanted to push it further, to let my hand wander between your pretty little legs and feel just how wet for me you are…”
As he takes a pause, his fingers reach your folds, lightly caressing up and down, circling your clit, and you both sigh.
“Astarion…”
“Hells, you want me so badly don’t you?”
“Please.”
“Oh, I’m not here to deny you, angel. I’ll give you everything you want…”
Without warning, two of his slender, delightfully long digits enter you, and you release a moan louder than you expected.
“Very good,” he praised, fingers thrusting in and out of you at a steady pace, as he resumed his work on your neck. He continued to suck and bite, no doubt leaving a myriad of bruises and marks that you would have to explain away tomorrow.
He growls again, biting a little harder, though still not hard enough to draw any blood, you notice. His fingers within you speed up, spreading in a way that has you choking out another moan.
“I can hear you thinking, darling. That’s not what we want now, is it?”
“No - fuck, there,” you moan deeper, head tilting back as his fingers reach a place in you that is forever out of your reach.
“Oh, good girl,” he purrs, focusing on that one spot. “Good girl, telling me what you want. Focus on your body, darling, not your thoughts. Feel me against you, feel me in you, feel how badly you need that release.”
“Astarion please.”
“Please what, darling?”
“Bite me harder.”
“Oh, not yet my sweet. We have all night for that, and I would quite like to sample the nectar between your thighs before tasting your heavenly blood. But I’ve left such a wonderful piece of work on your neck, now everyone at the camp will know now more than ever that you’re mine.”
“Fuck,” you gasp out, feeling the waves of heat overcome you and your thighs begin to collapse, your release hitting hard and fast at his use of possessive language.
“Very good, darling,” he praised, holding you up as your vision spun. His fingers didn’t cease as you came, immediately riling you back up, moans spilling out of you louder than before. You hadn’t noticed when he had added a third finger, but you felt the stretch as he pushed in, the emptiness when he pulled out.
You needed more, and he was clearly eager to give it to you.
“Lie down, my darling,” he whispered in your ear. “Allow me to worship you further.”
You did so without hesitation, resting back on a relatively flat portion of the forest floor, spreading your legs as Astarion knelt down, bringing your legs up on to his shoulders and staring down hungrily at you.
Despite the ferocity in his eyes, he took his time, kissing from your ankle to your thigh on your left leg, and then your right. The moment you felt your frustration grow to a peak, he bit down, once again leaving marks but never breaking the skin, marking the soft flesh of your thigh.
He teased you for a few moments before the impatience struck him as well, and leaned forward further, licking a long stripe up your folds.
“Oh darling, and I thought your blood was heavenly,” he breathed, and before you could respond, he went to work.
Immediately your hands were in his hair, pulling and pushing in some attempt to regain any sort of sanity in this moment. His tongue worked wonders, knowing exactly how to work inside you before retreating, teasing at your clit, before the vicious cycle repeated. His hands clenched your thighs as though they were a life line, and the moans that left him traveled into the depths of your core.
It didn’t take long, you were already falling over the edge again, now shouting as the pleasure grew blinding.
“I could stay here forever,” you could barely hear him lament, mind fogged. You blinked blearily as you focused on his face that was now above yours, glistening with your release as he grinned ferally, hand briefly coming up to clench at your throat. “But I have more planned for you.”
Despite your exhaustion, you feel the warmth in your core grow, another release of slick as his cock presses up against your folds.
“May I, pet?”
All you can do is moan pathetically, something between “yes” and “please” falling out of you as you weakly nod.
“Darling, you’re a vision,” once again, he strokes your cheek, uncharacteristically loving for the cold vampire. “Completely fucked out, and we haven’t even arrived at the main course.”
With that, you feel him enter you, no resistance give how worked up you are.
You take a moment, joined, as he breathes heavily into your neck and you let out quiet moans, words completely failing you.
“Divine,” he breathes, returning to kiss your neck, the sensitivity of it making you clench around him immediately. “Oh, so divine, darling I could have you for eternity, such a better use of our time than fighting all of these tiresome battles.”
He began to pump in and out of you slowly, your mind spinning from the weight of him on top of you, the sensation of being fucked so deeply, overwhelmed by the afterglow of all that had happened.
And still his words didn’t cease.
“I could keep you forever, a precious little pet, tied to the bed to fuck whenever I wanted. Or perhaps the other way around, I would wait an eternity just for another chance to taste you, to please you. Whatever fantasy you wish darling, we can fulfill it tonight, I swear to you - fuck.”
He picks up the pace as you clench around him yet again, your release not even having a build up, but instead crashing against you like a tsunami. You feel the wetness seep down your thighs, coating where the pair of you connect.
“Ast-ar…” you can barely breathe, and he laughs almost maniacally.
“Very good, darling, just like that. Give in to me. You don’t need a single thought in that head now, focus only on me and let go. You can cum again, you can, for me.”
“Can’t - I can’t…”
“Oh, you can and you will, if you want me to drink from you tonight,” he muttered darkly, and you feel tears prick in the corner of your eyes.
“Astarion.”
“You have to cum again, to get what you want. Just one more time, my darling. One more and you’ll please me so well. You want to be good for me, don’t you?”
You muster up the last of the strength you have, words falling from you without control.
“Yes, fuck, yes please, Astarion, please I want to come, I want you to bite me, I need to be yours, I need you ~”
It was almost as though your last orgasm hadn’t ended, with how quickly this one had began. An endless torrent that had the tears breaking, pouring down your face and into the dirt. You nearly choked out a scream, clenching around him so tightly that you feel Astarion tense, cursing wildly as you feel a warmth flood you.
You take a moment, trying with all your might to remember how to breathe, mouth gaping, expecting Astarion to move from you any moment.
Instead you shriek as he thrusts again, hand once again curled around your neck, stopping any chance you had at catching your breath.
“We aren’t done,” he growled, your own slick and his cum leaking out of you as he continued to fuck you, harder now, less restrained that before, nothing but pathetic whimpers leaving you. “We are so far from done, my love. You’re mine, you’re mine.”
Finally, what you had been begging for all night came to pass, and his fangs sunk deep into that claimed spot of your neck. You felt the familiar warmth and euphoria as your blood drained into his hungry mouth, his moans reaching a crescendo and hips moving at an inhumane pace.
And he was right.
You were his, blood and body and mind, it was all his. He had consumed every inch of you.
It was incredible, it was numbing, all you could think about was Astarion. Every molecule of you was on fire, and screamed to be connected to him, to never leave this moment, to stay in an eternity of this torment, but after four orgasms and on the verge of a fifth, with the ecstasy of his fangs in your neck, you simply couldn’t continue.
“Too much,” you manage to croak out, tears streaming down your cheeks and your entire body screaming. Your hands grip the vampire's arms tightly when he doesn’t immediately stop, nails biting into his skin. “Too much, stop!”
Immediately the fangs retract and he’s gently pulling out of you, red eyes wide with a hint of a rare expression on his face.
Fear.
“Darling I’m so sorry, did I take too much? I felt you going limp but, hells you’re so delicious I must have been lost in it-”
You shook your head quickly, placing a hand on his chest as you tried to collect your thoughts, tears still streaming.
“No, no, no,” you breathe out, still gasping. “Not the blood, you’re alright. It was too much, I really can’t cum again, it's too much. Too much good, I promise.”
The fear melted away to a more familiar expression, a smug smirk.
“Oh darling,” he purred, hand trailing up and down your inner thigh in a soothing but teasing manner. “I don’t know about that, you can still manage full sentences. Clearly too much brain power left…and I could go all night.”
“Astarion.”
A rare, genuine chuckle left the man as he began softly stroking your arm and playing with your hair, easing you down from your intense high.
When your breathing leveled out, he began to stand up, and you nearly whined.
Sensing your distress, he waved lightly. “I’ll be but a moment.”
He sauntered away, and you laid back, taking the moment to look up at the stars, basking in the glow of the orgasms and the moon.
He really had done his job, you had to admit to yourself. You were struggling to form a coherent thought.
When he returned, he had clothed himself, and had a small cloth in his hand. Striding over to you he gently knelt down yet again, running it over the blood stains on your neck, the mess between your thighs.
You stared at him, and he caught your look of surprise.
“What?” he asked, an affronted tone. “I know how to treat my lovers, darling.”
“Hmm,” you chuckle, closing your eyes. “Just a softie, I knew it.”
“Hardly,” he huffed, chucking the cloth off to who knows where and pulling you up against his chest.
He began to play with your fingers, lightly tracing the veins in your hands and up your arms. The pair of you sat in silence for what felt like an eternity, no words passing between you, but a silent understanding growing.
“We ought to go back to the camp,” Astarion eventually broke the peace, smirking at your disappointed expression. His arms encircled you once again, and you tried not to dwell on how good it felt. “Despite your rather loud vocals, I believe the others didn’t hear us, and unless you’d like to explain to them why you aren’t walking properly tomorrow…”
You snort, pushing him off of you. “Goodnight, Astarion.”
“Goodnight, my darling.”
One thing was certain, you noted as you returned to your bedroll, the sun beginning to peak over the horizon.
You’ll need extra healing from Shadowheart in the morning.
Thank you to @flightlessangelwings for their Kinktober list this year!
#fawktober2023#kinktober2023#x reader smut#x reader#astarion#astarion smut#astarion x reader#astarion x tav
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is this thing on? 🎤
modern!ellie is a boob girl. 100%.
is SO shy and nervous about touching them in the beginning of your relationship but once she gets more comfortable around you she can't. keep. her. hands. off.
definitely calls them “my girls” and kisses them goodbye every time she has to leave for work (sometimes you’d even have to remind her that you want a kiss too, not just your boobs)
sneaks her hand underneath your (her) shirt every time she’s spooning you in bed just so she can hold one of your boobs, “for comfort”! you’d get whiny over her touch but she would act all innocent, whispering things in your ear like “y’okay baby?" "what’s got you so worked up mama?”
there’s nothing she rather does than massaging them when you’re on your period. you’d complain about the ache and she would be settled behind you in a second, your back pressed to her front and her fingers would work wonders on the pain
don’t even get me started on showering together. she would beg you to let her wash your body and then spend more time on your boobs than on the rest of your body combined
OR if you were taking a shower on your own she would definitely come with in the bathroom, ask you about your day and proceed to not listen at all, she would much rather stare at your exposed upper body
ellie is a big lingerie enthusiast too. definitely buys you a new set on any given occasion. birthday? lingerie. anniversary? lingerie. valentines day? lingerie. you got a promotion at work? you guessed it, lingerie. you now own an absolutely ridiculous amount of pairs but she always claims you can never have enough whenever she gets a little rough in bed she might tear a pair, so that justifies it a bit i guess
loves napping on them. her head on one, her hand wrapping around the other. makes her feel so safe, she loves the warmth. the added sensation of your nails scratching her scalp overwhelms her with so much love she feels like she could cry
nsfw
she goes crazy at the sight of your boobs bouncing up and down while you're riding her strap. hoists herself up to press her face in between them all the time
when she finds out you have sensitive nipples she completely abuses that piece of information. she would tease you relentlessly, always spend so much time down there when she's trying to get you ready to take her strap. she swirls her tongue around one while she's toying with the other. the little yelp you let out when you feel her pinch it only spurs her on further
loves dove fucking you. you were the one to initiate it for the first time, you knew how much she loved your boobs and you were certain it was gonna get her off in record time, and it's safe to say you were more than right. her soaked folds made a mess all over your upper body in no time but you couldn't care less, you had never seen her that desperate before. her usual grunts and groans turned into high-pitched moans, her ruts grew frantic ever so quickly and when you gripped her thighs so she could grind down harder she completely lost it (i didn't mean for this to be so detailed maybe i need to write a drabble...)
photo: acreboltart/pinterest (we are respectful in this house and credit creators)
#is this thing on?#torlex speaking 🌿#ellie williams#ellie williams x reader#the last of us#tlou fanfiction#tlou#ellie williams smut
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"You Should Date My Nephew"
"433-6296". Wayne mouthes to himself. He visualizes the little slip of lined paper that's taped to the wall above their phone at home. 433-6296. He could call. But he wont.
Wayne grunts as he lowers himself to sit on the curb outside the plant. He got off work --he pushes up the sleeve of his jacket to check his watch-- 36 minutes ago. It's 3:36 am and god dammit Eddie how many times did he remind the kid to set his alarm. How many times did Wayne remind Eddie that his truck was in the shop and that he'd need a ride home in the morning. And every single time he'd mention it, Eddie responded "I got it old man! I'll set an alarm" with an exasperated eye roll and would go back to whatever he was doing. Wayne has tried calling the trailer a dozen times already and damn that boy for being such a heavy sleeper.
433-6296. Wayne could probably solve his problem with a single call, but that would be completely inconsiderate and borderline inappropriate, so he wont. A gust of cold November wind hits Wayne unforgivingly in the face and makes his eyes water. He pulls a pack of camels from his chest pocket and with stiff, shaky hands, lights one. 433-6296. He could call or he could walk home. The walk wasn't easy in ideal weather when Wayne was fully rested. Right now it was freezing, Wayne didn't have his good jacket, and he just finished an eight hour shift. 433-6296. Fuck it.
Wayne stands up and hurries toward the phone before he can talk himself out of this. It's insane, and he knows the poor kid barely sleeps as it is. Knows from Eddie that he'll pick up the phone anytime Eddie has a nightmare and drive over to talk him out of the bad dream, keep him company, or fall asleep on the floor of Eddie's bedroom so his nephew doesn't have to go back to sleep alone in a haunted home. 433-6296 Wayne dials and waits with baited breath.
The phone rings a handful of times before a quiet voice greets him on the other side of the line.
"H'llo? Eds?"
"Uh hi Steve. It's Wayne?" Wayne says quietly into the phone. Steve seems to sober immediately.
"Mr. Munson? Is everything okay? Is Eddie okay?"
"Yeah no everythin's fine. I'm sure Eddie's safe and sound at home. Look, I'm real sorry to wake you, kid, and I'm sorry to even be askin' you in the first place. I know it's mighty unfair of me to call at this time but uh- My trucks in the shop and Eddie was supposed to pick me up from work forty minutes ago but I think he mighta slept through his alarm. And it's too far for an old man like me to walk. Was wondering if I might owe you a helluva favor if you could pick me up tonight, son." For a few moments there is silence. Wayne worries he has crossed a line, for a brief moment he fears he might have burnt the most important bridge in Eddie's life. He's immediately regretting waking Steve up for this.
But then he hears the distinct rustling and thump of someone putting on shoes.
"Of course Mr. Munson, I'm leaving now. I'll be there as soon as I can." And Wayne is once again floored by this kid's kindness.
"Steve, thank you. I owe you son. Whatever you need."
"It's no problem! I'll see you soon."
"See you." Wayne mutters in disbelief and hangs up the phone.
And to think... Wayne used to hate Steve. The thing about Steve Harrington is that his name is haunted, in a way. And the thing about Wayne Munson is that he's a stubborn son of a bitch who will hold grudges on Eddie's behalf longer than the kid himself will. There were countless days in high school when instead of shooting through the front door of the trailer after school with a devilish grin and music blasting from his headphones, Eddie would turn the knob slowly and he'd drag himself into the house, giving Wayne a small nod before disappearing into his room quietly. Wayne felt like crying or punching something when Eddie came home in low spirits. He knew how evil the kids at school could be, and he knew the names of all the bad ones. Wayne always gave Eddie 10 minutes of quiet before he'd knock on his door and gently ask if he wanted to talk. It was a routine they had. He'd ask and Eddie would say no. But then like clockwork, Eddie would open up about his day later in the evening usually while they ate dinner and before Wayne left for work. He'd complain about all the kids that made him feel bad: Hagan, Harrington, Perkins, Hargrove, Carver, and so many more.
So imagine Wayne's surprise on March 27, 1986 when he briefly left Eddie's hospital room to get coffee and returned to Steve Harrington, the bully son of Richard and Nicole, sitting next to his nephew's hospital bed. It had been a long week of worrying on Wayne's part, and an emotional 48 hours spent at Eddie's bedside, so Wayne had very little patience for whatever was happening in front of him. In retrospect, Steve Harrington was looking at Eddie... sweet and tenderly, even back then. But in the moment all he could think about was Eddie returning from school with hunched shoulders and his head hung low.
"The hell are you doing here?" Wayne asked using his gruffest and most intimidating voice, arms crossed, standing in the doorway. The way that Steve startled was like nothing like Wayne had ever seen. He jumped a foot into the air and folded into himself.
"Oh! Mr. Munson. I'm sorry I didn't know you were around. Just, uh, didn't want him to be alone in case he woke up." Steve had said rising from his seat. When Wayne didn't budge from the doorway or respond, Steve nervously fiddled with the zipper of his jacket.
"How do you know Eddie?" Wayne asked trying to keep his firm tone.
"From high school sir. But also through a mutual friend. Dustin Henderson? They play DND together. Dustin and I brought him in after we found him like this..." Steve lifted his head again gauging Wayne's still stern expression and sighed. "Look, I'm sorry sir I didn't mean to interrupt anything I'll get out of your hair."
And Wayne wanted to be skeptical of Steve, wanted to accuse him of doing this to Eddie, but the truth is that Steve sounded painfully earnest. And there's no human explanation for the tiny bite marks all over Eddie's body. Wayne stepped out of the doorway and let Steve take a few steps down the hallway before calling out to him.
"Hey, Harrington?" Steve turned around quickly, looking back with a startled expression, maybe surprised that Wayne knew his name at all. "D'ja see what happened? I mean d'ya know anythin about what hurt him?" Wayne asked more softly. Steve looked around the crowded hallway, with nurses buzzing from door to door. Steve shook his head slightly, apologized, and continued down the hallway.
But Steve didn't stay out of his hair for long. The kid was exasperatingly persistent in being around for Eddie. And while Wayne kept a watchful eye on him, he was starting to get the idea that Steve Harrington was not who Wayne thought he was. He cooked for, cleaned after, and tended to Eddie, asking for nothing in return. Often refusing to stay for dinner when Wayne was home, even if he was the one who cooked it, because he didn't want to interrupt family time. If he brought food from out he always brought something for Wayne, and never took the money Wayne tried to push into his hands for it.
"Here, Mr. Munson. I wasn't sure what you wanted from the diner, but Eddie said you're not picky so I brought you a burger and fries." Steve had said that first time, holding out a bag in front of him.
"You brought me food?" Wayne asked perplexed.
"Well yeah, of course. I wouldn't have shown up with dinner for just me and Eddie." Steve set Wayne's bag on the counter when he made no move to take it.
By now Steve knew Wayne and Eddie's order at pretty much every food place in Hawkins and Wayne and Eddie were getting real creative at finding ways to slip money into Steve's wallet.
On top of that, almost every other day, Wayne gets home from work to find a maroon bmw parked outside his place while Steve helps Eddie through bad dreams. So what could Wayne be, besides grateful, for Steve Harrington's slightly confusing devotion to his kid?
He's snapped out of his thoughts when said maroon bmw pulls up in front of him. Steve is wearing a pair of wired glasses and his hair is all ruffled from sleep. Wayne opens the passenger door.
"You were waiting for forty minutes in the cold? Why didn't you call sooner?" Steve asked pushing up his glasses as Wayne closes the door quickly. And well... Wayne doesn't know how to respond to that.
"I- I shouldn'ta had to call you in the first place, Steve. I'm real sorry" Wayne says as Steve pulls the car out of park and starts driving back towards the trailer park. Wayne glances over at Steve waiting for the kid to say something. They sit in heavy silence until Steve breaks it by clearing his throat.
"Just... I know you're probably mad at Eddie but- but don't yell at him. He's barely sleeping so he really just needs the rest. It's not his fault." Steve ends on a whisper.
A tidal wave of different emotions rip through Wayne. Affection for Steve's caring nature, immense gratitude that Eddie has someone like Steve in his life, disbelief that Steve would say something like that after being woken at nearly 4 in the morning. Wayne was sitting and staring at the most selfless kid he'd ever met. Steve fucking Harrington.
"You should date my nephew."
Steves eyes widen and the car swerves.
"Uh- s-sorry- what?" Steve stammers.
"If I could choose someone for him, the best option out there, I'd choose you." Wayne says honestly, and he didn't even know he'd been thinking it until this moment. But it's so true. After so many heartbreaks over truly terrible men that Wayne could never see the appeal of, Eddie deserves someone like Steve. Steve face softens before checking to make sure Wayne was being sincere. Steve cracks a smile and chuckles to himself.
"What, you think I'm jokin'?" Wayne asks defensively.
"No sir! Not at all. It's just Eddie and I have been dating for months already. BUT- but- thank you for saying that! It means so much to me and truly Eddie's the best thing-"
"You- what?" Suddenly Wayne is embarrassed. Blushing. How'd he... how'd he miss that? And well, he did have a few moments where he thought the two of them were awfully close for a pair of young men, at least one of which who was openly queer, but they'd been through a lot together.
"Why did no one tell me?" Wayne asks turning his face away from Steve who is desperately fighting a huge grin and losing.
"We thought you knew. We sleep in the same bed every night."
"You do what now? Thought you were sleepin' on the floor" Wayne knows he sounds like the protective dad of a teenage girl and not the uncle to an adult man, but his world was just turned sideways. Steve laughs at that and adjusts his glasses before stopping at the red traffic light which almost immediately turns green because no one is out at this hour.
"Oh well. Good, I'm glad then." Wayne says after his mind has stopped spinning. "And call me Wayne already, you basically live at my house." He punches Steve lightly in the shoulder.
"Okay." Steve agrees quietly. He pulls into Forest Hills and stops the car in front of the Munson's place. "Mind if I just check to make sure he's okay before I leave? For peace of mind?" Wayne opens the door and steps out.
"Oh so now you're playing coy about sharing a bed? Just sleep here, kid" Wayne closes the door and heads towards the house. Steve jogs a little to catch up. When they open the door, the sound of an obnoxious alarm comes pouring out from the back of the house which concerns both of them. But when Steve hurries to Eddie's room he sees that the idiot had fallen asleep with music blasting in his headphones. Wayne stops the alarm as Steve gently tries to remove the headphones from his ears pausing the tape inside.
Eddie suddenly stirs and blinks up at Wayne and Steve looking down at him.
"'S going on?" He croaks, rubbing his eyes. Wayne and Steve share a look before Wayne chuckles and pats Steve on the back once before thanking him and wishing him a good night on the way out. After the door closes behind Wayne, Eddie looks back up at Steve. "What's going on baby? What happened?"
Steve slips into the bed and scoffs, fondly. He curls around Eddie and pulls him into his chest. Once they've settled, Steve pushes his fingers through Eddie's until they're all intertwined.
"Did you forget something, Bambi? Was there someone you had to pick up from work at 3 in the morning?" Steve whispers into his neck. Suddenly Eddie shoots up and dislodges Steve where he was leaning against him. Steve groans.
"Shit! Shit shit shit shit shit"
"Eddie it's okay c'mere. He's home now, it's all good babe." But Eddie just stares at the wall and pulls a hand through his hair. "No one is mad, just come back here. Let's sleep." And Eddie hesitantly lies back down.
"Did Uncle Wayne have to call you? I'm so fucking sorry Stevie." Eddie asks, sounding embarrassed.
"We had a nice conversation on the way home so it all worked out. You're okay. Sleeeeep."
And right before they both fall asleep, Eddie whispers, "Thanks Stevie, love you."
#steddie ficlet#steve harrington#steve x eddie#steddie#eddie munson#wayne munson#Wayne Munson POV#steve/eddie
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Simon Riley who realizes how much he fucked up and that maybe therapy isn't such a bad idea
AN: Lil bit longer than usual, but it's been on my mind
Art credit to SubsurfaceChaos on Twitter
Something was off with him all day. It wasn't too noticeable until he began distancing himself, getting irritated at being around anyone. You confronted him, simply trying to see if you could help or maybe provide comfort, and fuck did that backfire.
He was sitting in the living room watching whatever was on the channel, but it's not like he was paying attention to it. Thoughts and feelings of the deployment he just came back from a few days ago build up, irritation filling him like water in a bathtub. He doesn't usually have flashbacks or anything like that, the military would discharge him if he had PTSD, but some days he thinks too much.
He didn't even notice you coming in until you were sitting next to him. He snaps out of his thoughts just to meet your soft eyes. You sat on the other end of the couch, not wanting to crowd him too much while he's like this.
"What." He deadpans, voice devoid of all emotion.
Yeah something's definitely up.
"What's wrong, Si? Somethin' been messing with you today?" You ask gently, not wanting to come off as if you're accusing him.
He gives you and irritated look, suggesting you drop it, "Nothin', 'm fine"
You're not stupid. He tends to need a little push in order to open up.
"I know you're not", tone still soft, "I'm not trying to irritate you or anything, I ju-"
"Well you certainly got an affinity for it" He snaps, "Drop it"
You inhale, trying to not take his words personally, "Si, I'm your girlfriend, it's kinda my job to check in with you"
The bathtub overflows.
"You can't listen, can you? I said drop it, fuckin' 'ell" He stands up from the couch and walks to the kitchen, trying to create distance.
"Simon I'm just trying to help, I'm not here to make things harder for you" You try to reason with him, swallowing the lump in your throat.
You follow him into the kitchen but still give him space. He doesn't say anything back, a small part of him knowing you're right but the larger part won't connect to that. Pouring a class of orange juice, he keeps his back to you.
"Si-"
"Can you shut up for once?! Can you? I said bloody drop it. It's not up for discussion!" He sets the cup on the counter with a thud and snaps at you, "You're always fuckin' naggin' at me, clearly not takin' a bloody hint. Jesus Christ"
That shuts you up. The lump in your throat intensifies, tears beginning to form in your eyes. He's never yelled at you like that before. Sure, he's had bursts of irritation during arguments, but he's worked hard to make sure he never treats you how you don't deserve.
"Why are you yelling at me? All I'm doing is trying to be there for you" You ask quietly, voice not really allowing you to speak louder. a couple tears fall down your face, and your nose begins to get stuffed up. You try to quietly sniffle but he still hears it. He hangs his head down and groans quietly.
"Now you're fuckin' cryin'. Great."
Not wanting to be around him much longer, you turn to leave, "Come find me when you're calmer", Your voice betrays you and cracks a little.
You walk away and go upstairs to your shared bedroom. Once you close the door, the crying begins. His words cut through you like a knife, a deep pressure-like hurt seeping through your chest. Sobs rack your body yet you still try to be quiet, not wanting him to hear. You know he's gonna snap out of it and fuckin hate himself for what he did. You know he loves you, and if he were in his right mind he would have never uttered a single degrading word to you.
You slip into bed and lay there, crying. You guessed he would be up anytime soon and the smell of him on the pillows was both comforting and hurtful.
Downstairs though, Simon was fucking fuming. Seeing you go up the stairs, lip quivering, evaporated every bit of him anger. He groans loudly and throws an arm over his eyes.
'How fuckin' stupid can you be? How the fuck can you speak to her like that?'
He removes his arm and leans against the counter, arms crossed over his chest. You've stuck through with him since the moment you meet. Never once judged his off stand-ish behavior and learned to find ways to work with him. He cherished you so wholly, feeling what he thought he never would. You came into his life and slowly broke down his walls, allowing you to see him apart from his exterior.
He thought he was going to lose you. Sure, you had arguments before, but he had never purposefully tried to hurt you. Knowing that he did made his stomach churn, nausea kicking in. 2 years of the best relationship (not that there were very many before you) all to be broken down, at least what he thought, because he was pissed off.
'Maybe I should fuckin' go to therapy.'
Let's be honest, he could use it. He tried to go through it before but just quit due to how uncomfortable it made him. He figured he was on his own, all before you, and there was no one to deal with his bullshit besides him. Now he has someone who he cares about so much that it doesn't matter if he's uncomfortable. He'd rather be uncomfortable than never be with you again.
He gathers the balls to go upstairs and carefully opens the door. He's met with the sight of you curled up, your sniffles being the only sound in the room.
"Go away" You call out, although not too loudly. Your voice is wobbly and stuffy.
He'd think it was adorable, had he not been the one to cause it. He walks to the opposite side of the bed and gets in, spooning you. He kisses your hair so gently it would give you butterflies if you weren't so upset.
"I'm so sorry, love. I haven't a clue why I did that to you and you didn't deserve a single lick of it." He feels the small burn in his nose as he starts tearing up a little, "I promise it'll never happen again"
You sniffle as more tears fall, the pain sticking to you despite his words.
"I wasn't trying to piss you off" You whisper.
"I know baby, it wasn't you. I promise it wasn't. Could never be that mad at you" He says softly, a tear falling. He grips you a little bit tighter and kisses the back of your neck, trying to bring comfort to both of you.
"Then why did you yell at me? I've never heard you like that before."
He sighs, "Been thinkin' 'bout what happened while I was gone and it came out at you. 'M gonna go back to therapy 'n try to fix what ever the hell is wrong with me" He kisses your neck again, " 'M gonna do better, gonna be better"
He's not stupid, he knows his words aren't gonna go away overnight. He knows how much you love him, even if he doesn't understand it, and knows hearing that from him hurts more than it would anyone else. He knows you're gonna be affected by them for a bit and he's prepared to fix it. Anything for his love.
You turn around so you're both still on your sides but you're cuddled into his chest. Wasting no time, not even hesitating, he wraps his arms around you and holds you tight. He lets out a sigh of relief, knowing this is your way of accepting his apology. He softly kisses your forehead and cheek, whispering how much he loves you and how it's gonna be better.
He knows he can't run from his issues anymore and for once he's ready to face them.
#call of duty modern warfare#cod x reader#ghost cod#simon riley#cod simon riley#cod ghost#ghost mw2#ghost call of duty#simon ghost riley#simon riley x reader#simon riley x reader hurt/ comfort#cod hurt/comfort#ghost x reader hurt/ comfort#cod angst#simon riley x reader angst#ghost cod angst
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Collapse Into Me
After a particularly rough day, how do these JJK characters offer their comfort?
INCLUDED - Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto, Kento Nanami, Kento Nanami, Toji Fushiguro, Choso Kamo, Ryomen Sukuna, Hiromi Higuruma, Ino Takuma, Yuuta Okkotsu, Inumaki Toge, Yuuji Itadori, Megumi Fushiguro
! PIECE BEGINS UNDERNEATH THE CUT !
SATORU is more than happy to gather you in his arms and let you lay there. To him, there's no greater comfort than you laying in his arms, your head tucked perfectly underneath his chin with one hand tangled in your hair and the other tracing mindless shapes into the exposed skin of your back. He'd let you ramble about what made your day so terrible and offer little hums between your sentences – never once interrupting you or making you feel as if he wasn't listening. He would only offer his advice if you wanted it, and even then it was the most heartfelt words he'd ever spoken to you.
"I'm here for you sweet thing. Just let it all out, okay? Don't want you holding anything in."
SUGURU makes it his personal mission to take your mind off of whatever might have bothered you throughout the course of your day. When you return home, the first thing that he notices is your dulled mood – how your eyes focus on anything but him and how you try your hardest to hide the growing tremble to your lips. He doesn't draw attention to it, not wanting to accidentally upset you further. Instead he just pulls you into the living room, where he's set up a small fort for just the two of you; complete with your favorite snacks and drinks, as well as a movie that you had mentioned enjoying.
"I know you've had a tough day angel, but you're here now with me. Come on, make yourself comfy."
KENTO's comfort is the personification of a warm hug paired with gentle, featherlight kisses. He cradles you in his arms for however long you need, rocking your bodies back and forth, his chest rumbling in a gentle hum against the skin of your cheek. He'll guide you to sit down, fingers interlocking with your own as his softened eyes scan over your twisted expression, beautiful features scrunched up in sadness. He'll kiss away the tears as they trickle down your cheeks, offering you words of comfort that he wished he had heard during his moments of need.
"Come now darling, don't cry. I'm right here with you, everything is going to be alright."
TOJI is at first very arrogant, smirking down at you and bluntly pointing out the tears that you're trying so desperately to keep hidden from his gaze. But when he sees that the events of your day had truly left you shaken and unhappy, he's tugging you to his chest and hiding you away from the world. The entirety of your body is dwarfed by his massive frame, face squished into his chest as he leans back on the couch, tugging you over him like a weighted blanket. He says absolutely nothing as you keep yourself hidden away, but he doesn't miss the feeling of your tears as they fall delicately onto his skin. Only when you lift your head to glance up at him does he thumb away your tears — hushing you with a softness that not even he knew that he was capable of.
"Alright kid, you're okay. 'm right here with ya, shh."
CHOSO sits silently with you, both of you simply sitting in the silence that your sadness provides. His fingers are folded together with your own, the pad of his thumb swiping against the back of your knuckle every now and then – another silent reminder that he was there with you. No words need to be exchanged, not that he would mind if you spoke. If you'd rather talk, he will gladly listen. And if not, he's more than okay with sitting beside you, allowing your body to rest against his own. Your head is laid against his shoulder, fingers interlocked, and for a moment, nothing else in the world truly matters.
"'m here, you don't need to be upset anymore."
RYOMEN might not know how to comfort people, but somehow, he figures it out quickly the moment that he sees you curling away from his touch. The tears that adorn your waterline are not a foreign sight to him, but that doesn't mean that he ever wants to see that expression on your face. He doesn't offer you words of comfort, after all, his tongue was sharp and made of silver – it likely would do more harm if he were to open his jaw. Instead, he offers to you a softness that had only ever been reserved for you anyway. He'll let you lay beside him, sharpened fingernails scraping through your hair just like you did for him on those nights where he pretended to be asleep. He may not be the best at comforting, but to you, his presence was warmth personified – a warmth that you needed to combat the coldness of your day.
"Tch, shut up and let me do this for you … little brat."
HIROMI grants you the space that you need to process whatever it is you may be feeling. He'll sit quietly outside of the closed bedroom or bathroom door, simply resting his head against the wall and listening to the softened sniffles that you're trying your best to keep locked within your chest. The moment that the door slides open and you sit quietly at his side, he wraps you up in his arms and allows you to sob into him. Please let everything out in his arms, the last thing that he wants is for you to wake later in the night with your body debilitated by sadness that you had accidentally left to fester. He wants you to know that he is there for you, and if holding you is the way to go about it, then he will happily let his arms go numb for your sake.
"There, there my love. You've nothing to waste your tears over … I'm here, you're safe."
INO is initially silent when you return home distraught after a tough day, but the moment that you sit beside him and let out that heavy sigh that says “I’m exhausted”, he is wrapping you up in a thickened blanket and rushing around the apartment like a chicken devoid of a head. He piles snacks and drinks onto the coffee table and shuffles through the drawer that is filled to the brim with various DVDs. He holds up various options, feeling his heart sink further and further into his stomach at your lack of an answer. After talking to a brick wall, he decides to just sit in silence with you, hugging you against him and deciding that — maybe — a nap was all that you needed.
“You comfortable sweetheart? Oh … okay, okay. ‘m here, just rest, yeah?”
YUUTA offers to walk around Jujutsu Tech with you after finding out about how terrible your day had been, smiling at you and taking both of your hands into his own. He even tells Rika to leave him undisturbed for a few hours, directing all of his attention to you. The silence of your walk is filled with your ramblings about your day, complaints about Gojo, worries about upcoming missions, anything and everything that might be bothering you. He’ll offer advice where it’s needed, cracking jokes if the situation calls for it — but his main focus is being there, being the ear that you so desperately need.
“I’m sorry angel, I wish that there was more that I could do. But I’m right here with you, and I’m not going anywhere.”
INUMAKI is the king of distracting you when you’re upset, opening his dorm up to you and allowing you to hide away in it as if you had spent your entire life living there. He silences his phone for the rest of the day, focusing on you and the things that you want to do in order to take your mind off of whatever had happened prior to seeing him. He’ll offer you the second controller and go easy on you, allowing you to beat him and rub it into his face — eyes crinkling in a loving smile as the spark returns to your expression and body language.
“Tuna mayo. (I love you).”
YUUJI is on the verge of tears when he sees your pained expression, but he doesn’t hesitate to wrap you up in a bone-crushing embrace. He tucks you into his arms, his heart clenching in his chest as you sob into him. His hands rub up and down the length of your back, cheek resting against the top of your head as he shushes you — wanting you to calm down enough so that he could try and help you. He does his best to hold back his own tears, but your sadness is his own, and seeing you so distraught was only making him feel worse and worse by the second. But he hopes that his hug is enough to remind you that he's there with you … and that he was never leaving.
"Shhh baby, I'm here! I'm right here with you, you're okay … please don't cry."
MEGUMI almost immediately brings out his Divine Dogs at the sight of tears rolling down your cheeks – knowing that the dogs would work wonders in bringing you comfort. He sits quietly beside you on the couch, not daring to utter a word as you thread your fingers through the thick fur of one of the dogs, smiling tearfully as it nuzzles affectionately into your hand. He doesn’t say anything to you, nor does he offer any kind of reaction when you shift your body to lean comfortably against him. He wraps his arms firmly around you, resting his chin on top of your head and letting out a small sigh through his nose. He may be the silent type — but his silence cuts through your sadness like a burning knife. It’s comforting … and just so undoubtedly him.
“Is this okay? Alright … I’m here for you, I hope you know that.”
#colonelarr0w#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk fanfiction#jujutsu kaisen fanfiction#satoru gojo x reader#gojo x reader#suguru geto x reader#geto x reader#kento nanami x reader#nanami x reader#choso kamo x reader#choso x reader#toji fushiguro x reader#toji x reader#ryomen sukuna x reader#sukuna x reader#hiromi higuruma x reader#higuruma x reader#ino takuma x reader#ino x reader#yuuta okkotsu x reader#yuuta x reader#inumaki toge x reader#toge x reader#yuuji itadori x reader#itadori x reader#megumi fushiguro x reader#megumi x reader
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i love the whole ‘best friends who ‘accidentally’ had sex’ type of concept and it really fits chris 😭 like imagine attending the end of the summer cookout marylou and jimmy have every year, you and chris decide to have wine coolers because why not?
next thing you know….
never grow up // chris sturniolo
summary: you and your childhood best friend reunite after months apart. after a couple of drinks, secrets start spilling, leading to lust that has been put on the back burner for years
part 2
Chris and I have been inseparable since the day we met. With us living on the same street growing up, we were always together. If there was a picture taken of one of us as a kid, chances are the other one was in the background trying to photobomb.
Watching Chris and his brothers make the move to LA was hard. I sat back and supported my best friend, but it sucked knowing that our fault routine of being together after school and having sleepovers was coming to an end.
It all happened so fast. One minute he was there, and the next he was gone.
The love I have for Chris is unlike anything else in the world. I love Nick, and I adore Matt, but it’s different with Chris. We connect in different ways. We trust each other differently. I’ve never had a friendship like it, and I don’t think I ever will. We always joked about being in each other's weddings. He wanted me to stand with all the groomsmen, and I told him he could stand with the girls.
We had our lives planned together, and I never thought I’d have to see us fade away from each other.
We try to talk as much as possible, but with his ridiculous sleep schedule mixed with his work life and time zones, it’s mostly scattered snapchats that keep us from forgetting what the other person looks like.
A tradition growing up was going to his house for the end of the year cookout. When we were little we would play in the pool, seeing who could collect the most shark toys and torpedoes that we launched into the bottom, and as we got older it turned into chicken fights, then us floating around the pool, asking each other questions about life.
“Do you ever think about what would happen if your husband didn’t like me?” he had asked me on a sunny day in Massachusetts when we were 16.
“Yeah,” I said, dragging my hand through the water to cool myself down. “I’d tell him to fuck himself, and if he doesn’t love my best friend like a brother, then I want no part of him. You’ll always come first.”
He gave me that classic, cheesy grin of his and then splashed a wave of water against me, knocking me from my float.
He’s not coming this year. He’s busy at work in LA. I can feel him drifting away.
As I help his parents set up some of the food trays, I hear their side door open by the kitchen. I don’t bother looking up, knowing guests have been coming and going all day. It isn’t until two arms wrap around me from behind that my eyes shoot open.
“Miss me?”
Chris.
I spin around, staring at him with my jaw dropped. I can see his mom out of the corner of my eye, smiling at us. She must have known about this. I’m sure he told his mom.
“Oh my god,” is all I can bring myself to say. My eyes start to well with tears. I haven’t seen him since last Christmas. I missed his birthday. He missed me. Our times were always off.
He squeezed me as our bodies clung to each other. “Don’t cry, you’ll make me cry, Sunny.”
Sunny. The nickname he gave me when we were little, which came from Sunshine. We were 8, swinging on a playground. He had a bad day. We played together after school and he told me whenever he feels sad, his day always gets sunnier with me around. He always was able to make me feel loved and appreciated as his friend, and as we got older, that only grew.
I know he loves me. He just needed to chase his dream. That doesn’t mean he loves me any less than he ever did.
“I missed you so much,” he says, holding me even tighter than before.
“I missed your voice.”
“I’m sorry,” he says quickly. “I need to make an effort to call you more. I’m just so-“
“Busy,” I finish for him. “I know.”
His face falls. “Yeah.”
I don’t want him to feel bad for what he’s doing. He deserves something so amazing. He’s worked so hard for it.
“You’re here now though,” I smile. “Can we just pretend like you’ve been here and you never left?”
He smiles softly, nodding. “Yeah.”
I sit by his side for hours, smiling at him as he fills everyone in on what’s he’s been up to. He’s the talk of the town. Everyone is amazed to see him and his brothers do such big things.
Everyone erupts into laughter when Chris tells his stories, and when Matt and Nick add on more anecdotes, the house is filled with pure joy and love for these boys we watched grow up.
“I’m gonna get a drink,” Chris says, excusing himself. “You want anything?” he points to me.
“Whatever you get for yourself is fine,” I nod, adding on a thank you before he leaves.
He comes back with two Pepsi cans. I notice they’re already opened, but I don’t think anything of it. Knowing Chris, I fully expect him to have drank some of mine, and that’s him trying to be funny.
My face puckers at the taste of wine in my can.
He emptied the Pepsi out and poured wine in it instead.
He smiles next to me, trying not to laugh.
A memory of us from when we were 14 comes back to me, and I know that’s what he’s trying not to laugh about.
“Chris! We can’t take their wine!”
“My parents have like 20 bottles. They never drink. These are all Christmas gifts from other people. I promise they won’t notice,” he assured me.
I watched as he poured the glasses half full. It seemed like far too much.
“Try it,” he said, nudging a glass to me. “It’s disgusting.”
I took a hesitant sip. This was fucking awful, but I found myself drinking more at the idea of the thrill. We were doing something we weren’t supposed to, which made the alcohol taste even better.
A half hour later we were both stumbling up to his bedroom, and I managed to make it to the bathroom before throwing up, almost missing his toilet.
He held my hair back and apologized for giving me alcohol. He promised he wouldn’t tell anyone we drank. And he never did.
“Doesn’t taste as bad now, huh?” he asks, snapping me out of my memory.
I roll my eyes and take another sip. He’s right.
Once everyone leaves for the night, my family stays back to help Chris’ parents clean up, and my parents were offered a plethora of leftovers.
When Chris showed up, it was a no-brainer that I would be staying here tonight, so he led me upstairs while everyone else said their goodbyes.
“Shhh,” he hushed me as my giggles flooded the hallway. I’m definitely tipsy, but I’m completely coherent. I think most of my giggles come from the fact that he’s back in Boston. I’m just giddy and happy.
“Sorry!” I apologize anyway, even though he’s not bothered by the sound of my laughter. He smiles at it. He loves it.
He lays out a pair of pajamas for me like he always used to. It’s an old shirt from our high school with his lacrosse number on it, and a pair of his boxers.
I find myself thinking about the girls he had been with that were jealous of what I had with him. Me and Chris had never even kissed, so to think he would be accused of so much more with me was ridiculous. He never failed to stand up for me though. He could have the number one girl, someone perfect for him, and he’d say goodbye to him if they said one bad thing about me.
We will always be rooting for each other no matter what.
“Tomorrow we should actually do some stuff around town,” he says as he changes into something to sleep in. “I’ve been traveling all day and I’m so fucking tired. I just want to lay in bed.” He finishes his statement and flops down on the bed, laying his head next to my thighs.
“I really missed you, Chris. A lot,” I respond, ignoring his suggestion.
He sits up next to me, looking down at me in his clothing. “I know, Sunshine. I missed you just as much. More, probably.”
I felt safe with him again, a feeling that had been lost as we spent months and months apart. I craved moments like these, where we would stay up together and laugh.
The mood in his room shifts when he says, “What ever happened with you and Aaron?”
He knows what happened. I told him before I told anyone else.
He broke up with me with no explanation, and I was left heartbroken and confused. I wanted nothing more than a hug from Chris, but 3,000 miles kept that from happening.
“We’re not talking anymore,” I remind him. I really don’t want to be talking about boys right now, but it seems that’s the topic of conversation that is interesting to him most. “Any girls that have your attention in LA?”
He shrugs. “Not really. They’re cool, some are cute, but I don’t know. I don’t think I wanna do anything with any of them.”
Chris has always been very anti-relationships, but that never stopped him from having his fair share of fun. He always made sure they were on the same page that it was just benefits, sometimes not even friends. I am curious what turns him away from exploring with girls in LA. “Why not?”
“They just don’t have what I’m looking for. I want someone who understands me and what I want, but only a few people get that,” he explains. “I don’t know. I don’t want to waste my time with someone if I know from the jump that it feels like a waste. And I think about you, and how we are, and I don’t think I’ll ever be that close with anyone else. I don’t want to be. I don’t want to think about someone ever taking your place.”
“You can set limits,” I suggest. “But don’t keep yourself from meeting people because you’re worried about me feeling replaced. I won’t ever feel that way. I just want you to be happy.”
“Well, that’s not the only reason you’re a problem in it.”
There’s an ache in my chest at the thought of me being a part of a problem in his life.
“What?”
“I just– There have been issues before… in the past… where girls have felt threatened by you,” he says, looking down at his fingers, where he picks at the dead skin nervously. “That’s not your fault by the way. It’s dumb. I just… I don’t know.”
I pull his hands away from him. “I love you, Chris.”
He smiles at me and says, “I love you too.”
Somehow, his feels different.
I check the time on my phone, putting in beside me and announcing to him, “I’m gonna go to bed.”
Just like we always did, innocently of course, I placed the softest and quickest peck to his cheek closest to me.
I did this as a kid, mostly because Chris would freak out if his mom didn’t give him a kiss goodnight. He insisted that it kept the bad dreams away, and he would ask me to do the same for him when he spent the night at my house.
So I kissed his cheek like always.
I tried to.
But Chris moved his head.
His lips graze mine. There isn’t much contact, but there’s enough for me to know that we just kissed, barely.
He knows exactly what he just did, yet he’s looking at me like he’s shocked.
I’m not drunk, but maybe this is acting as liquid courage. That’s what I tell myself when I fully grab my best friend’s cheeks and press my lips to his. He lets out a deep breath against me, holding the back of my neck and fisting a handful of my hair.
What are we doing? I’m kissing my best fucking friend. My best friend of 15 years.
I’m lost in my own head, completely out of it until I feel him lay on top of me, pinning my arms over my head with one hand as he kisses down my neck with the other.
I lift my chin, giving him more room to kiss me.
He finishes placing wet kisses to my skin, then puts his lips back on mine. His full lips overtake mine, but we form a rhythm that has my chest tightening. He kisses me slowly, but the more tongue we add to the mix, the louder it sounds.
We make out for some time. I lose all track of it. I don’t even know if I’m in reality anymore. My hips aimlessly lift up to try to find something to create friction against. I almost forgot who I was kissing until he pulled back and said, “We’re entering dangerous territory here, Sunshine.”
“What do you want to do then?”
He falls silent, and I fully expect him to lay down next to me and pretend this never happened.
He does the opposite.
“I would never be doing this if it wasn’t something I had thought about for years.”
My heart feels like it’s pounding out of my chest.
Everyone who watched us grow up together is in this house.
And he’s pinning me down to the bed kissing me in the same room we used to play in.
“Then do something about it,” I taunt.
He loves this invitation.
Going zero to one hundred, Chris sits up, pulling his shirt off and tossing it beside me. I’ve seen him shirtless a million times. Hell, I’ve seen his bare ass. This is different though. So much different.
He puts his lips back on mine as his hands slide to the bare skin under my shirt. Without a second thought, I remove it, completely forgetting that I don’t have a bra on.
His eyes focus on my body, his jaw slacked and his cheeks turning red.
“Holy shit.”
I instinctively try to cover myself somehow. He grabs my arms and pulls them back down.
“No no,” he shakes his head. “Let me admire you, pretty girl.”
He kisses me softly down my chest, flicking his tongue over my nipples before sucking them into his mouth, all while he’s rubbing his hand on my inner thigh.
I shift my hips, positioning his hand right over where I need him the most. He stares up at me in awe as I give him this sign of approval, and without wasting any time, he dives his hand into the boxers around me. His underwear. I mimic his movements, dropping my hand through the waistband of his shorts and swiping my thumb over the tip of his hardened cock. He winces at my touch, gasping out of desperation.
“Please,” he whines. “Don’t start something you can’t finish. I’m begging you.”
I yank his shorts down, having the same reaction to his dick that he did to my boobs. I lay below him in shock, mostly baffled by the fact that he’s hung, but also the fact that we’re in this situation.
When he gets nervous from my staring, he places soft kisses to my lips again, like he’s trying to put my attention elsewhere.
“Sunshine,” he pants. “I can’t… If we’re gonna do this… I can’t wait,” he breathes out. “I need you now.”
I stroke him slowly, watching his stomach heave. “Have me then.”
In an instant he has my boxers and underwear on the floor in one fluid motion, spreading my legs and laying between them.
“Can’t believe you’ve been keeping this from me,” he whispers. He touches my dripping folds carefully, then licks his finger clean. “Fuck, you’re perfect. Always have been.”
I’m in my most vulnerable state. Not only am I naked in front of a man, but this is the guy who has watched me grow up. He has seen me through every stage of life, and now he’s about to be touching me, fucking me.
“Chris,” I say his name quickly, urgently, like I’m running out of time to say anything.
He looks down at me, pausing from where he was lining himself up between my legs.
I love you.
He smiles and says, “I know,” before putting my legs over his shoulders and pushing himself inside of me.
My fist clenches a nearby pillow as my body adjusts to him stretching me out. Chris gasps out in pleasure and shock from this entire experience. He drops his face into my neck, letting me hear his soft moans as he feels me clenching, throbbing around him.
When I give him the okay, he starts thrusting into me slowly, both of us silent, letting the sound of our skin finding each other ring in our ears.
I’m having sex with my best friend.
He places a kiss on my thigh, where it rests next to his face. Then, he pushes one of my legs out, spreading me open more.
“Fuck!” I cry out, the sound quickly masked by Chris’ mouth, where he places his lips over mine again to shut me up.
“Gotta be quiet, Sunny,” he warns me. I nod, and he puts his hand over my mouth, making sure I keep the volume down.
His dick hits every spot perfectly. His body clings to mine as our orgasms are in sight. I find myself begging for him, moaning his name, something I never would have expected from us.
Chris sits up on his knees, pressing my knees to my chest as he pounds into me, his face staring down with a dominant gaze, watching his dick fill me as my cum drips around him.
“Fuckkk,” he groans. “Such a dirty girl.”
All self control leaves me when I don’t bother hesitating as I respond with, “Yours.”
He nods, speeding up his pace. His thrusts become sloppier, much sloppier. “All fucking mine,” he reminds me, then pulls himself out of my pussy and strokes himself through his orgasm, letting himself finish on my lower stomach.
He quickly gets a towel and cleans me up before he places his head on my boobs. My hands dig into his hair, running my hands through his loose curls.
“You’re the best thing that ever happened to me, Sunshine, you know that?”
I smile to myself, but I also know that we completely fucked up us ever having a normal friendship after this.
My best friend and I fucked.
And he doesn’t do relationships.
“You’re my favorite,” I whisper back.
He places a kiss to my stomach, and I can feel the smile on his face when he does so.
I don’t smile. I know that with our decision tonight, we lost one side of our relationship.
We either become romantic and it gets fucked up and we lose a friendship too, or our friendship becomes awkward and crumbles because of this.
Neither of us thought about that before we got ourselves tangled up in each other, and I’m doing everything I can to forget about that fear and focus on the boy I’ve been in love with for years laying on my chest.
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#sturniolo triplets#chris sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#matt sturniolo#nick sturniolo#sturniolo fanfic#nicolas sturniolo#sturniolo x reader#sturniolo smut#chris sturniolo smut#sturniolo#chris sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo x you
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Injured V
Alexia Putellas x Child!Reader
Summary: The next day
The day that Alba takes you is the worst day of Alexia's life which says a lot.
For a long time, the worst day of her life was tearing her ACL, the time before that was when her father died but even those moments have been taken over by Alba taking you away from her.
Alexia slept outside your bedroom door that night, adamant that you would open it when you thought everyone was in bed. She didn't have much of a plan after that apart from grabbing you before you noticed her and not letting you go ever again.
But you don't open your door until Alba arrives early the next day.
You shrug off Alexia when she tries to reach for you, whining and crying until Alba picks you up. You're still in yesterday's clothes and no matter how much Alexia begs, you don't even acknowledge that she's speaking to you.
Alba doesn't talk to her either and both sisters are caught in a standoff that forces Olga to pack your bag.
No word is spoken by either you or Alba even as Alexia rants and raves and begs until the front door swings shut behind you.
That's when she really breaks down, crumbling to the floor as she sobs.
Your bedroom door is left open and Alexia can peer inside, clearly seeing where you've destroyed things last night.
Your trains are knocked over. Your ballet pumps are strewn around the room. Your bedsheets and pillows are bundled up in your wardrobe like you slept in there last night rather than your bed.
There was a picture of you and Alexia that lived on your bedside table. You're a newborn in it, lying on Alexia's chest. The labour had been gruelling - thirteen long hours - and Alexia's face is all red. You're red too but completely content. The picture's lived there for as long as Alexia can remember until now.
It lies on the floor, the frame completely broken and unsalvageable. The picture is ruined too, a big rip right down the middle until one half features just Alexia and the other half features you.
"Ale," Olga says softly," I'm...I'm going to call you in sick, okay?"
Alexia shakes her head, wiping away her tears. "No," She insists," I'm going in to train."
"Ale-"
"No."
The radio doesn't get turned on when Alexia drives to her recovery session. She drives in silence, stewing about it all as she pulls into the car park.
It's clear to everyone that she's in a mood which is a little strange seeing as they won the Copa De La Reina last night. No one seems to want to approach.
No one except Mapi, despite Ingrid's hushed warnings.
"So, which one did she choose?"
The words shock Alexia, who nearly drops her shirt. "What?"
Mapi frowns. "Did you not let her choose this time? That's so mean, Ale. Did she at least like the one you got her?"
"Mapi, what are you talking about?"
Mapi rolls her eyes. "The train? You always let y/n choose a new train when we win a trophy. Which one was it this time? Last time I saw her she talked about wanting this fancy red one that you could take the top off to put little people in the cars. Was it stupidly expensive? Is that why you didn't let her choose?"
Alexia clenches her fist at the reminder. She can't think of the last time she bought you a new train. She used to buy one every week. Its all you ever ask for but she can't remember the last one she gave you.
Was it the green one at Christmas or the black one at new years?
No, it can't have been then because she got you a big train set before Jaume was born, wrapped up and placed in the cupboard to give to you the day of Jaume's birth.
But...
Alexia can't remember seeing it in your room this morning.
When recovery is over, she nearly tears the cupboard door off its hinges.
The present is still there, a thick layer of dust covering the pristine packaging and Alexia sobs all over again.
She's in her car before she knows and is banging on Alba's door before she can stop herself.
"Go away!" Her sister snarls.
"Let me in!"
"No! Go away!"
"I want to see her!"
"Fuck off, Alexia! And get lost! You're not coming anywhere near that little girl!"
"She's my daughter! You've kidnapped her! Move!"
Alba looks ready to throw hands again but so is Alexia. She knows that she's got a long way to go but she's got the present from Jaume's birth in the backseat and the train you told Mapi you wanted.
"Kidnapped," Alba scoffs," That's rich. You've been neglecting her! You're lucky I didn't call the police on you!"
"Watch it," Alexia snaps," This is what you wanted, wasn't it? For me to take notice? Job done! I've noticed! Give me Bambi!"
"Over my-"
Alba breaks off as the pitter-patter of little feet sound behind her. She turns, blocking Alexia from your view as you come running towards her.
"Tia! Tia!"
"Hey, bambi. What have you got there?"
"Me and you! I painted it!"
Alba smiles, gently cupping your cheeks as she presses a soft kiss to your forehead. She keeps her body between you and Alexia, desperate to make sure you don't notice.
"It's so beautiful. Why don't you go and put away your paints and then we can put it up on the fridge?"
"Okay."
You run off again and Alba goes to shut the door.
Alexia wedges her foot between it and the frame.
"I'm not leaving," She insists," Not without Bambi."
"Go back to your precious son," Alba hisses," You're not going anywhere near her."
Alexia doesn't exactly have a plan. All she wants is to grab you and take you home. She'll give you your new trains and not let you out of her sight for the rest of your life.
"Alexia Putellas Segura!"
She turns slowly to see her mother walking up the driveway, a face like thunder.
"Mama-"
"No!"
She falls silent.
"Go."
"Alba-"
"Alexia, I will not ask again. Go home to Olga and Jaume. Your presence will do Bambi no good."
Tears water in her eyes. "Mama, I'm trying. I will be better, I promise. Please."
"Alexia." Her mother's voice softens ever so slightly but it's clear she's not going to budge. "This will not be good for Bambi. Go home, reflect and we will sort out a day where you can see her again."
"I want to see her now." Her voice cracks. "Please, Mama, she's only little."
"Go home, Alexia," Eli says," Hold your son but go home and do not come back until you are invited. This is hard on you, yes, but it is much harder on your daughter. Something like this does not happen overnight."
"Mama, I will do anything. Just, please, I need to see her."
"I have already made my decision. You will not be seeing Bambi until I have been told what has happened from her mouth. You will go home and think about your actions. If I don't think your presence will help then you will not see her."
"She's a baby, Mama," Alexia sobs with no shame," I..."
"I know," Eli says," I know, Alexia but we need to start doing what is right for her, not just what is right for you. So, go home while I talk to Bambi and we will see where this goes."
Alexia sniffles and wipes her tears. "I...I have trains for her, in my car..."
"I'll give them to her."
You're sitting in front of a train set when Eli walks in.
She didn't really want to believe it when Alba called this morning, telling her that Alexia had been neglecting you. She hadn't wanted to believe it when Alba said that she had taken you away but seeing Alexia a few minutes ago had made this all clear.
"Do you have room for more trains?"
You look up. "Abuela!"
"Hola, Bambi." She sits down next to you. "I've missed you."
The look on your face is heartbreaking. You look so excited, like you can't quite believe that someone has missed you.
"Really?"
"Of course. I always miss my favourite little girl."
Your face clouds with something that Eli can't quite work out and you say softly," Mami used to call me that."
Eli's heart cracks completely at your words and she has to resist the urge to cry herself. "I hear that you are staying with your tia for a few days."
Alba hovers uncertainly nearby, shifting on her feet even though her eyes are still glued to the windows looking out on the driveway. Eli doesn't have to look to know that Alexia hasn't driven away yet.
She knows that she won't be coming in but leaving and driving back home makes it certain. Eli isn't sure that Alexia wants to admit that just yet.
You nod, looking back down at your trains. The set-up isn't as elaborate as the one you have at home but it's still quite big. You make little chugging noises with your mouth before speaking," Tia Alba says we can go to the beach tomorrow and that I don't have to go to nursery!" Your face goes cloudy again. and you mood drops "I got forgot at nursery yesterday."
Eli hums. "And how did that make you feel?"
Your bottom lip wobbles and Eli doesn't want to push but she needs to know so she can fix this. She wants this to be salvageable. She doesn't want to give Alexia hope that this can be fixed if it can't be. She doesn't want to force you to reconcile if it'll cause more harm than good.
"Mami loves Jaume," You say, face scrunching up," And Miss Olga. They're her family."
Tears spill down your cheeks.
"Your Mami loves you too," Eli promises, feeling her chest go tight," Even if she forgets."
"No, she doesn't," You shake your head," I..." You like around wildly like you're scared. "I...I love Mami but she doesn't love me."
"She does," Eli insists," You are so loved, Bambi. Your Mami is having a bit of a stumble but she does love you."
It's clear that you don't believe her.
"Mami wanted Jaume. She didn't want me."
Eli chokes out a breath. "Who told you that?! Bambi, who said that to you?!"
Your conception was always a difficult subject to breach. Alexia had gotten drunk, slept with someone and woke up with no memory of the experience. She ended up pregnant though, with you.
It wasn't something that they ever told you. All you had ever been told was that you were loved. No one ever wanted to label you as a mistake or unwanted.
It was one of Alexia's deepest shames. She'd always told you that she chose your daddy, that she spent hours and hours choosing the perfect one. She had never wanted to tell you that you were an accident no matter how many times Eli had told her you would find out one day.
To you, you were chosen. Alexia chose to have you, to make you a part of her life. To you, you and Jaume have the same daddy because Alexia chose yours.
Eli should have known this would come out eventually, no matter what Alexia had told her.
More tears flow down your cheeks.
"Was an accident," You sniffle," Didn't mean to listen in. Was meant to be sleeping. Mami was talking to her friends-"
"What did Alexia say, bambi?" Alba's voice is harsh and Eli could never imagine this is what her family would come to.
Two sisters on warring sides and one little girl used as the rope in this tug of war.
"Said that Jaume was planned. Does that mean I wasn't? That I wasn't wanted like him?"
"I'm going to kill her," Alba declares. If she squints, she can just make out Alexia sobbing into her steering wheel. "I'm going to kill her."
"Alba," Eli says," Calm down. Go and make some snacks but do not attack your sister."
"Abuela? Does that mean Mami didn't want me?"
Eli doesn't want to have this conversation. She's never wanted to have this conversation, to have you question your position in this family. She wants to tell you that just because you weren't planned doesn't mean that you weren't wanted. She wants to tell you that you were so wanted by everyone in this room the moment they found out about you.
But, somehow, she doesn't think that will help.
What you want is assurance from Alexia but Eli doesn't trust her eldest daughter with you right now.
It's a horrible thing to admit but it's so easy to see that Alexia adores Jaume. It has always been a little harder to see Alexia's love for you.
Eli doesn't trust Alexia with you in the slightest and she hates that. She hates how splintered her family has become. She can hear Alba pacing in the kitchen and she can make out Alexia still in the driveway, sobbing.
"Your Mami..." She sighs. "I wanted you and your Tia Alba wanted you. You are so loved and so wanted by everyone in the family, Bambi. Do you trust me?"
You nod.
"I'm going to be staying with you and your Tia for a few days and I'm going to make everything better."
"Is Mami and Miss Olga and baby Jaume coming over?"
"Do you want them to?"
"No."
"Then they won't. Your Mami did give me something to give to you, though. They're presents from her."
"Why?"
Eli doesn't want to think about this. She doesn't want to think about why you're even questioning Alexia giving you presents. Every weekend at the end of Alexia's matches, she used to take you to the model train store near your house.
Eli used to be forced to go too and Alexia would let you pick out a new train simply as a present, a gift for being her favourite girl in the entire world.
You were singlehandedly keeping that store in business and the old man that ran it even kept it open late if the match ran over. It used to be your favourite time of the week.
If you're asking her why you're getting presents all of a sudden, Eli doesn't want to think about how long it's been since you must have set foot in that store.
Her voice cracks. "Because you're her favourite girl in the entire world."
She pushes them both towards you.
One of them is covered in wrapping paper so Eli can't tell what it is but she recognises the second one.
It's a red train that you'd been eyeing up since the last time Eli went to the train store with you and your Mami almost a whole year ago. It's big and comes with its own train track and little people.
It's based on those fancy trains that serve afternoon tea and cakes because each of the train cars can have their roofs taken off to place the little people figures inside to enjoy their lunches.
It's stupidly expensive, seven-hundred euros and Eli remembers you telling her that Alexia had promised it to you for your birthday. But your birthday came and went a month ago so to see it now means you didn't get it then.
You don't reach out to tear off the wrapping paper of the first present but you do tentatively touch the front of the box of the train you've been begging for.
More tears then Eli thought possible drops down your cheeks.
"I don't want it," You say eventually," I don't want them, Abuela. I don't!"
"Okay, okay," Eli hushes you softly," I'll take them away, Bambi."
You climb into her lap and sob and Eli wants nothing more than to heal all your pain and stop this but even that sounds too difficult to do. She'd hoped that this was all some big understanding but it's clear that this runs deep, that this isn't something that can be fixed quite so easily.
It's clear that Alba has made the right choice though, to take you away from Alexia and the mess of your home.
Eli had been worried when Alexia had named her as your godmother but it was clearly the right decision. She doesn't want to think about what could have happened if you had been left there any longer.
"Abuela?" You say and the next words out of your mouth are the worst things Eli has ever heard," Do you think Mami would be happier if she didn't have me?"
#woso x reader#alexia putellas x reader#alexia putellas#woso community#woso fanfics#woso imagine#woso
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[2.1K] Steve Harrington x fem!reader 18+
The week following your night with Steve, you’d had absolutely no problem getting yourself off.
Every night, you lay in bed before sleep took over, your hand shoved down the front of your sleep shorts, fingers slipping clumsily and a little unpracticed over yourself, eyes clenched shut and lips parted silently as you thought about your best friend.
His digits were longer than yours, thicker, able to reach places you couldn’t, filling you up in a way you’d never felt before. But you could hear Steve’s voice in your ear as you swirled messy circles over your clit, chasing that throbbing feeling as you remembered his words.
“Has someone done that to you? Has someone put their mouth here?”
Cheek pressed to the pillow, pushing low whines into the cotton, legs spreading wider, knees hitched up as you fought to catch that feeling only Steve was able to give you before.
“Do you like it when I talk to you?”
He’d whispered it in your ear, breath warm against your cheek, hitching and gasping when you had tightened around him.
“My girl likes hearing dirty things, right? Like when I asked you if someone had gone down on you? If you’d had someone’s tongue here?”
Stomach tensing, the hook there tightening, skin too warm, the idea of your best friend laying between your thighs, your legs thrown over his shoulders too much for you to handle. Would he do it real soft for you? Would he lick over you like a man starved? Only breaking away to talk filth into your slick skin? Would he tell you how good you tasted, how sweet you were?
You came hard, back arching, a gasp leaving your lips, fingers moving until it was too much and you had to stop, sliding slick over your bare stomach as you relaxed back into the bed, butter on a hot day.
The next day, you vowed to ask Steve.
Just half a beer, that’s all it took. A few long drags, a movie that was never started, the tape half in the VCR and Steve’s bedroom lights low. Lingering looks, mussed sheets, anticipation heavy in the air like summer, a growing heat that settled on your skin and it fucking buzzed. It fizzed, it glittered.
“Did you really mean what you said?” You asked out the blue, pulling Steve from the TV set, leaning back on his pillows like you belonged there. “The other night, last week? About how it was a shame that no one had— no had ever… gone down on me.”
Steve stopped, the tape forgotten, his eyes wide as he looked at you over his shoulder. He watched the way your thighs rubbed together under your dress, a thin summery thing, delicate straps and material cut out of the sides, your skin on show between the buttercup yellow cotton. You watched him swallow, adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as his gaze got a little darker, the words he remembered telling you coming back to him.
“Shit, you look so damn pretty, you know that? I could do that for you though, if you wanted.”
Steve cleared his throat, rose up from when he’d been kneeling in front of the television, blurry static crackling, forgotten about. His knees bumped the edge of his bed as stood over you, breath hitching as he took you in, eyes trailing over bare legs and upupup until they settled on your mouth, the way you licked at your bottom lip nervously.
“Yeah,” he croaked, his voice already shot. You looked so pretty. He remembered what you looked like when you came, head thrown back against his shoulder, crying out his name in soft, heaving gasps. He hadn’t stopped thinking about it. “Yeah, yeah. I meant it.”
“Could put my mouth on you, let you know if you’re really as sweet as you look.”
“Have you been thinkin’ about it?” Steve asked, his voice sweet and soft. He smiled when you nodded, huffing out a breath like it was all too much. “Yeah? Fuck, sweetheart, so have I. Did you get yourself off, did you manage?”
He wanted to be filthier, he wanted to ask dirty, dirty questions. He wanted to know exactly what you thought about when you touched yourself. If you thought about him, if you got as wet as you had with him the week before. He wanted to know if you made the same noises in the quiet of your own room, if you whispered his name when you came.
Instead, Steve moved onto the bed, a little clumsy as the mattress dipped but he stayed by your feet, a hand reaching out to bravely curl around your ankle, your frill lined socks tickling his palm. One tug and he could spread your bent knees open for him, dragging you down his bed until your hair fanned over his pillows and he could push your thighs apart. Steve wondered if you’d let him.
Maybe he could find out.
You nodded, lips parted and already panting, barely able to form words. Steve’s thumb was circling over the skin of your ankle, slowly coasting upwards until his warm palm sat against your calf. He rubbed there too, fingers pushing at your skin like dough, all plush and soft and pliant for him. Your thighs parted, if just a little.
“Every night,” you whispered, eyes closing at his touch, the heated embarrassment creeping over your skin at your confession. You weren’t sure you were supposed to look your best friend in the eye when you told them you’d come on your own fingers, thinking about them. “Couldn’t help it, just- just needed to touch myself.”
You heard the boy groan, low and throaty, his hand climbing higher, laying on his side at your feet so you could feel his warm breath ghost over your shins. You let your legs fall apart again, inch by inch, eyes still closed until your feet slid across the sheets in opposite directions, knees parting. You felt Steve’s lips there, on the inside, at the sensitive skin, a barely there kiss.
“Did you come?”
You swore, breath hitching, nodding as you chewed on your bottom lip, hands coming up to press over your eyes, as if you could hide from him. Mortification was crawling over you, despite how Steve had had his fingers inside of you mere days before, how he’d watched you come, how he had a clear view of your spread thighs and the damp cotton clinging to your cunt, right now.
“Can I make you come again?” The boy sounded wrecked and the question made you open your eyes, gaze stuck on his like honey. “Please.”
You nodded, as if you’d ever say no to that. Like that wasn’t what you wanted.
You expected the boy to launch himself at you then, to grab and pull and kiss and nip. But as heavy as Steve’s gaze was, he moved slow, careful. His hands found your ankles again, one around each leg and he dragged them further apart, his eyes on yours. The static of the TV fizzed and outside the open bedroom window, you heard the Harrington’s sprinklers turn on.
“Lemme see,” Steve whispered, his tone that same sweet rasp as before. He nodded encouragingly when your hands found the hem of your dress, his smile soft, if not a little dirty. His chest was falling and rising faster and faster, his white t-shirt taught over his broad chest and shoulders. “There’s a good girl, fuck, honey.”
You flushed as you did as you were told, the hem of your sundress dragging up your thighs by your own hands. The material was still fisted between your fingers as you held it around your hips, legs spread obscenely, cotton underwear a cherry red, lace trimmed and with an obvious damp spot.
“Can I use my mouth?” Steve asked, murmuring, already moving between your knees, his stomach pressed to the bed. “Wanna taste you properly. Shit, can I do that? Please? Let me show you how good I can make you feel?”
You whined, high and needy, nodding enthusiastically as you sucked in a breath. “Fuck, can you? Please, Steve, I want that, god, I really want that, haven’t stopped thinking about it, imagining it, shit.”
You swore Steve’s eyes rolled at your words, his hands coming to curl around the back of your thighs, pulling you closer to him, nose pushing at where your hands lay over your stomach, still clutching your dress. He pressed a kiss there, lips grazing over the skin under your navel.
“You’re gonna be the death of me, you know that?”
You didn’t get a chance to reply before the boy was bringing his mouth down, open and pushing against your clothed cunt, tongue a hot, wet press over your folds, prodding gently until he found your clit between them. It was an instantaneous reaction, your body seizing up at the unfamiliar touch, an electric sensation, your body a livewire under Steve’s lips. He hushed you softly when you gave a weak cry, pushing at your inner thighs to keep you open for him.
He licked up your cunt, tongue dragging over the cotton, soaking it more and more until the fabric was clinging to the outline of you, until he could tease the tip of his nose over the spread of you, bumping against your clit. The noise your cunt made as he finally pulled your underwear from you was filthy, a wet sound that made his cock kick up in his jeans.
“Feel good?” Steve cooed, voice sticky with affection and awe for you. Your dress was rucked messily over your stomach, one strap sliding off your shoulder as he hooked your legs over his shoulders, bringing your bare cunt closer than before. Each word settled over your slick skin and made you twitch. “Nice, yeah? You gonna tell me, honey? Tell me how good I’m makin’ you feel, huh?”
“So good,” you breathed out, voice and words garbled between moans, your hands dropping from your stomach to clutch at the sheets on each side of you. But Steve wasn’t having any of that. He tsked, letting go of your legs only to coax your hands into his hair instead, hissing when you grabbed hard. “Fuck, Steve, please. More, please, feels so good, too good, I can’t, I--”
He wouldn’t have you begging, he wouldn’t dare. Steve wanted to give you everything you wanted, so he wasted no more time, surging forward the mere few inches it took to get his mouth back on you. Steve kissed over your cunt with the enthusiasm of a man who’d been starved of the one thing he wanted most. Lips pressed to you, tongue sneaking out to taste you, gathering up your slick only to press it to your clit. He hummed as you cried for him, eyes squeezing shut as you pulled on his hair, tugging him closer until his tongue was pushing into your entrance and his nose was nudging your clit.
He was shiny with you, mouth and chin wet and slick, eyes fluttering shut and rolling to the back of his head every time you gave his hair a good yank, your hips lifting to catch his tongue. He groaned, murmuring out pretty phrases like, ‘such a good girl’ and ‘so fuckin’ sweet for me.’
Steve lapped at you until you came, tongue soft but persistent, intent on you making you fall apart with just his mouth, groaning in want as he watched your entrance clench around nothing. He sucked and licked at your clit until you shattered, until you couldn’t take it any longer. Your back arched like last time, head thrown back into the pillows that smelled like him instead of against his shoulder, but Steve decided he liked this view just as much.
The boy tasted like you when you kissed him, half dragging him up your body as you panted, dress still messy around your waist, unabashed in your nakedness. Unlike the time before, Steve was miraculously still hard, desperate and aching under his jeans as he’d tried his best not to rut against the bed as he ate you out. Your palm grazed over his cock, smiled into his kiss when it twitched under your hand, his hips canting into your touch.
You only pulled away from his lips to press him onto the bed, switching your positions. Your dress fell back down, covering your sticky thighs and Steve was ready to protest, until you tucked your fingers around the button of his jeans and popped it open.
He let out a curse, breathing heavily, eyes half lidded and watching you. You quirked a brow, asking a silent question you were pretty sure you knew the answer to - this wasn’t a case of a friend helping a friend, not anymore.
You waited. Steve nodded.
#steve harrington#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x y/n#steve harrington fic#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington smut#steve harrington fanfic#Steve Harrington fanfiction#Steve Harrington oneshot
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Yan Cheater + Cheater Reader
Yan Cheaters are funny lemme try-
Yan Cheater who sees their darling dearest out on the town alone. You should be with them, but they'll fix that shortly. You're the person of their dreams and after so many failed relationships they're happy to find the right one. On their way over, their entire world crumbles as you're seen hugging and chatting up some random with a closeness you've never showed them. The unfamiliar face slings an arm around your shoulder as you walk off together - laughing as if you were without guilt.
You heartless bitch. How could you? After they'd give you their heart - their everything. Fine, fuck you - they could do the same thing. After crying through the night and crying their eyes they hit up a past fling to forget all about you; aggravated that all they can think of as the look at their partner is features that remind them of you. They ignore your calls, block you on everything, and have the time of their life with whoever's available... And looks like you.
The first time you saw them with someone else you turned tail and ran, saving your tears for a better time and person. Good - run off. You know what you did. They won't chase you - no matter how red their heart bleeds after seeing you after so long. You meet again at a party a mutual friend left in the dark was throwing. You, for closure - them, looking for a new body to take home. They couldn't even hide their disgust as you stomped up to them, two lockets in hand.
"What the hell did I do to you...."
They scoff. Trying to play innocent? "You know what you did."
"No! No I don't! You ghost me for weeks and never seem to be home when I try to talk to you, but the second I see you, you have your arm around somebody else. As far I remember, we were happy together. What did I do to you to deserve this?!"
"Hm... I think it was roughly a month ago. You and that little whore you met outside that coffee shop that just opened."
"Coffee shop?... Wha-" Your eyes widen. Unable to control your anger, you slap them across the face so hard the blow rattles in their teeth. They clutch their jaw. You little-
"That was my cousin, asshole!"
You toss the necklaces to the ground, two sets of initials engraved on their fronts.
"You didn't even bother to ask me about it before you ran off. If you really loved me, you wouldn't say something instead of jumping to conclusions. I knew dating you was a mistake. You spineless coward."
Their tongue feels heavy, likely cut on their teeth from your blow - bleeding; just like the heart they thought they lost. In a way - they truly had.
"Couldn't get a refund since they were custom" You spit on the fallen jewelry as you turn your back to them. "Happy Anniversary."
They fall to their knees, crawling after you as you fall into the crowd - grabbing your ankle. "No, baby. Please, baby - I fucked up bad, I know, but I can make this up to you. Sweetheart please - I'll delete everyone in my phone right now, even my parents. You'll be the only one. You're all I need. Baby, see? I'm doing it - look. Look at me - I'm sorry. Angel? Honey? D- don't leave me... DON'T LEAVE ME."
You have to change your phone number the very next day from all the calls you receive from the burner phones they purchased that same night to speak their part. Jobs too - as they stand outside and harass customers since your boss refused to let them in by your own wishes - accusing everyone of trying to take you away from them. You return home one day to find your front door unlocked and before you can realize the danger you step inside - your ex waiting with a carbon copy of every gift you threw out and wearing everything you ever gave them.
"Darling... I'm wearing that shirt you bought me last Christmas. I honestly thought it was hideous - but...it came from you. I'm wearing that hoodie you thought you lost too. I lied because I wanted to have something that smells like you to keep. It doesn't smell much like you anymore. Only my tears. I'm sorry - I won't ever lie to you again. You're perfect. My sweet angel. Please...give me a second chance. I don't know what I'll do if you don't."
#yandere#yandere imagines#yandere x you#yandere scenarios#yandere headcanons#yandere insert#yandere x reader#yandere oc#yandere blurb#yandere concept#yandere drabble#tw yandere#yandere x darling#yandere cheater
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