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fairy-angel222 · 3 months

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𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆, 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐎𝐋𝐔𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐎 𝐉𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐘 𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩

—how they breed you when you make them jealous

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐬: 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎, 𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈, 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: smut, degradation, praise, breeding, baby trapping, mean doms, choking, exhibitionism, hair pulling, rough sex, spit, daddy kink, hair pulling, somnophilia

✮ 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎

What the fuck did you think you were doing? Gojo seethed to himself. Who the fuck were you with and why were his hands on you. What would seem to be a normal friendly hug had blue eyes glaring at you through the cafe’s window.

Gojo plastered on a fake smile, the bell ringing as he walked through the door. You looked up with a wide smile, “baby.” Gojo’s eye twitched as the man behind you smiled too, “Hey man, Y/n’s told me so much about you.”

You frowned as your boyfriend took the man’s hand in a bruising grip, giving it an unnecessarily hard shake. “And you are?” He questioned, forcing himself to keep up the nice guy act.

“Oh, i’m Haru, an old friend of y/n’s” Gojo scoffed internally, his arm making its way around your waist. “Well, Haru, we’ve got to go now,”

Waving bye to your friend, you bit your lip as you looked up at the white haired man, “are you mad?” Gojo scoffed, “Nope.. not at all.”

A lie.

You found yourself sprawled out on the back seat of Gojo’s car in the parking lot for anyone to see. Your legs were spread up in the air as Gojo took his anger out on your cunt.

Your eyes were wet with tears as your boyfriend hammered into you. “How many times do i have to fucking tell you, hmm baby?” He scowled. “How do I get it in your dumb little brain that you’re mine.”

Gojo’s bright eyes darkened as he sped up his pace, thick cock ramming into your g spot with every thrust. Your boobs bounced as your body rocked with his hips, the entire vehicle being moved from side to side.

“Gonna have to fuck a baby into you to drill it in your head.” He grunted, not slowing the movement of his hips until you were shaking for him. Your eyes blurry with tears as small ‘m sorry’s left your mouth

“Good. You should be. Show me you’re really sorry and take it yeah? Take it nice and deep.” he groaned, hips rolling roughly into yours.

Small babbles and hiccups echoed throughout the small car, your hand gripping tightly onto the side of the seat as your orgasm washed over you. “F-fuck,” you moaned, pussy tightening around him as you creamed.

Gojo smirked, bottoming out inside you as his eyes met yours, slender fingers pushing themselves past your lips and resting at the back of your tongue. “Gonna fill you up kay baby? Gonna let everyone know that you’re my little slut only.” he growled.

You shook your head in protest, your little waits muffled by his fingers. Gojo cursed, his eyes never leaving yours as he bred you deep. “There we go, gonna look so pretty carrying my baby.”

Your eyes widened when you heard a throat clear awkwardly. Scurrying to cover up but being held down by your boyfriend instead. Your cheeks flushed in embarrassment as you looked up to find Haru.

“U-uhm.. you f-forgot your sweater y/n.” His cheeks were beat red and his dick was strained against his pants. Never in a million years would he expect to see you like this.

Gojo grinned as he looked at the male, slowly pulling out of you to give your friend a sight of his cum leaking out of your swollen pussy. Haru’s breath hitched and Gojo’s head tilted. “Like what you see? Too bad you’ll never have it cause it’s mine.”

✮ 𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈

Silently watches as you innocently entertain two guys who were clearly flirting with you. How stupid could you possibly be. Pushing his glasses further up his nose, Nanami sighed. Did he always have to remind you that you belonged to him? You should have known that by now.

And you most certainly should have known that no man ever has innocent intentions. Getting up, Nanami walked up to you with a face void of any emotion. Tapping you twice on your back to indicate that it was time to go. You even had the audacity to tell the two men bye in your sickly sweet voice.

The ride home was silent.

You kept trying to strike up conversation but pouted when all you got in return were uninterested hums and nods. “Kentooo,” you whined. “Why won’t you talk to me?” you frowned. Your boyfriend simply glanced at you and scoffed. Watching as you rest your head against the car door and let your eyes close shut.

You woke up with a small whimper, soft moans falling past your lips. You felt so good, your pussy clenching around.. a cock?

Your eyes shot open to find Nanami in between your held up legs. His eyes dark as he hammered into you. His thick, veiny cock abusing your g spot as it fucked into your abdomen.

A loud mewl left your mouth as Nanami’s hand made its way around your neck. You felt so full, his cock stretching you out and forcing you to take him deep. Entire ten inches reaching deep within your belly. “K-kento.. so deep.” you whined.

Nanami grunted, tightening his grip on your neck to bully his entire cock into you. “I’m gonna fuck a baby into you, let you know who you who you fucking belong to.” He groaned, looking deep into your eyes with a glare.

You whimpered loudly, eyes blurry with tears as he fucked you dumb. “Nngh, ‘m cumming Kento, ‘m cumming so hard,” you sobbed, toes curling as you babbled out his name.

Nanami scowled as the thought of you with another man crossed his mind, his grip becoming a bruising one as he snapped his hips into yours at an unforgiving pace. “Fucking take it baby. This is exactly what you needed. Get it through your dumb head that you have an owner.” he spat, watching as you shook uncontrollably underneath him.

Screaming loudly as your body was rocked with his thrusts. Nanami groaned at the way you began to squirt, threatening to push his cock out at the mere pressure.

Stilling inside you, Nanami let his hot ropes of cum coat your insides. His hand around your neck finally loosening as he kept his cock plugged into your sopping cunt. You were his. Now you would have the stomach to show it.

✮ 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈

Watches with a smile as you dance. Taking note of all the men that were eyeing you like food. Eyeing you like you weren’t already owned. He was sat on the club’s couch with his legs crossed, arms spread out along the chair’s backrest and head tilted with a smirk. His eyes roamed his waist, his hips, and his ass. Every part of you was his.

And you knew that, you were just so oblivious to all the hungry stares directed at you. Toji stalks tall towards you. Towering over your figure and nodding towards the exit. Understanding that it was time to leave, you made your way outside to wait for your boyfriend in his vehicle.

Five minutes passed and you frowned in worry. Where was he? Your thoughts were cut off by the driver’s car door slamming shut. Toji using a rag to wipe blood off his bruised knuckles.

“Toji-” before you could open your mouth to speak, you received a warning glance from your boyfriend to keep your mouth shut. You swallowed hard, wondering what the hell your boyfriend had gotten into. Especially since he was smiling like a maniac as he drove.

At home, you found yourself on your hands and knees, loud moans and mewls spilling past your plump, drool filled lips.

Toji’s thick cock pounded into you hard. His hips snapping roughly into yours. Rough hands held your hips in a bruising grip, his cock forcing its way deep into your tight hole and ramming into your g spot with each movement.

You let out a loud cry, the flesh of your ass shaking with each contact. “F-fuck— d-daddy, nngh, feels so good,” you whined, a yelp leaving your mouth as you were yanked up by your hair. Your back flat against his chest allowing him to fuck you even deeper.

Toji had one hand tangled in your hair, the other held your throat. Your whimpers and moans echoing in the small room as your pussy squelched lewdly. Toji’s smirk never faltered, kissing up your neck and to your ear.

You clenched hard when he groaned softly, deep voice rasping in your ear “Fuck you’re taking daddy so good, gonna fill you up with another Fushiguro hmm? Gonna look so hot all round and swollen with my son. Your tits leaking with milk for daddy to take care of you. Does my little slut want that?”

You whimpered loudly at his words, clenching down on his cock as heat built up in your stomach. “Mhm, wanna feel you deep. Wan’ carry your baby so bad.” you mewled. Eyes rolling back as Toji rolled his hips up into yours.

Toji brought his teeth down on your skin hard, nearly drawing blood as you moaned. Pulling your head back even further, Toji leaned down to press his lips against yours, sloppily swallowing your moans before pulling away with a string of saliva connecting your lips.

Your mouth hung open in short pants, your boyfriend letting a thick glob of his spit fall onto your tongue. “Fuck, gonna show all these assholes that you’re mine yeah? They probably won’t even live to see it.” You let out a silent scream, feeling Toji’s cock absolutely destroying your gummy walls.

“O-oh fuck, d-daddy, ahh,” you moaned, body trembling as you reached your orgasm. “Gonna cum, fuck, gon’ cum on your cock.” Little incoherent chants of his name falling past your lips.

“Cum f’me baby, make a fucking mess.” He groaned, tightening his hold on your neck as your slick dripped down his cock with one final cry. “There we go,” he grunted, thrusts getting sloppy as he buried himself deep inside you, ropes after ropes of sticky cum painting your guts white.

Your knees felt weak as you came down from your high. Eyes fluttering closed as you steadied your breathing.

“Now, who do you belong to, baby?”

“You.. i belong to you,”

“Good girl. Might even keep my cock in you so that you don’t spill any of daddy’s cum.” He chuckled, knowing full well that he was being serious.

#jjk smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen smut #gojo smut #gojo x reader #gojo x reader smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader smut #gojo satoru x reader smut #nanami x reader smut #nanami smut #nanami kento smut #nanami x reader #toji x reader smut #toji fushiguro smut #toji x reader #toji smut

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ruby-static · 11 months

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Another update on my first NV playthrough:

HI YES MAN HIIIIIII

#Static screams into the void #Static plays FNV #BEST BOY SPOTTED!!!#LOOK AT MY DUDE!!!#Anyways- I've been playing NV more again.#I finished 'Nothin But a Hound Dog' to get Rex #(and level up so I can get Riley's science stat high enough to hack past the securitron guards since that fits him.)#then went through 'Ring a Ding Ding!' to meet this beautiful fucker.#Another fun thing- It might be a good time story-wise to have Riley and Arcade team up now.#I imagine Riley takes a bit of time to think of a 'game plan' to get the chip and goes around helping people in the meantime.#(Translation: I wanna take a break from the main story to possibly do a few more side quests.)#And he travels with Arcade and Veronica and others in the process.

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peachesofteal · 17 days

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Simon Riley / female reader Secret baby trope / 18+ Previous

Simon appreciates where Kyle has decided to put down some roots.

He likes this part of the city. It's busy, but manageable, and Kyle's managed to find himself a decently sized home, one big enough to accommodate both Simon and Johnny when they're on those swing days between missions. There are enough beds or couches for when the three of them get pissed at the pub down the street and have to stumble back nearly crossed eyed.

Of course, he never talks about the other reason why he finds this neighborhood so charming, but he suspects both the boys know.

He likes to hold onto your memory like a little secret. Knowing you're possibly still living in this area, in that flat, is enough to bring him out to the pub after they all get back to the house and crash.

Kyle's mouth twists into a mischievous smirk, and he glances at Johnny before honing his sights. "Fancy a drink, LT?"

It's been just over a year since Simon has been here. He rubs his palms against the bar top, trying to casually glance around, searching for something he knows he won't find. He can still hear you, still smell you, still feel your skin against his. He's spent the last year jumping from mission to mission, country to country, plane to plane- and above the carnage and the sounds of killing and fighting-

he still hears your voice. His name on your lips. When he closes his eyes to go to bed at night, it’s your face he sees, lulling him to sleep.

A fantasy.

"Did ye get her number, at least?" Johnny interrupts his memories, and Simon shakes his head.

“Better off that way.” He rolls his shoulders, stretching sinew and bone, trying to force his body to relax. It’s always like this, between ops. He’s stuck in fight mode, wires all crossed, head still fuzzy. Every now and then, his ears will ring, and he tries shake it loose, echoes of gunfire popping inside his skull.

He chooses to drown it out.

All three of them do. It works well enough, and they stumble back to Kyle’s, taking their respective places strewn across the house, Simon falling asleep face down in the guest bed without another drunken thought.

The sun cracks through the blinds too quickly. He stomachs a tea, and advises the Sergeants he’s heading back early to wrap up some paperwork, and steps out onto the street.

It’s later than he’d like, sidewalk already bustling with throngs of people, and he pulls his nondescript black ball cap farther down over his face. The sun is warm, glaring onto the back of his neck until his jacket almost feels claustrophobic. His hands fall idle as he walks, so used to holding a weapon or clicking the mic open on a radio, he doesn’t know what to do with them at rest. Doesn’t know how to hold them. There’s a void there, a void everywhere, etched into his skin, a whisper of the man he should’ve been.

The sidewalk may be busy, but he doesn’t miss a face. He never does, it’s a part of the job, but when his eyes glance across a woman who looks just like you- his entire life stutters to a stop.

You have a baby strapped to your chest. A chubby, round baby who kicks their feet when you lower your head to murmur something to them, palm flat against their belly.

You have a baby? You have a baby. There’s a pang of sadness in his heart, a swell of disappointment as he rationalizes what he’s seeing, the proof of you belonging to someone else, having a life with someone else, loving someone else. He only had you for a night, and he knows it, but he can’t pretend he hasn’t been seeing your face every time he closes his eyes for the past year.

It’s closure. A final nail in the coffin. The end of something that never was.

You’re just as beautiful as he remembers, a sunny spring day, a bouquet of overflowing flowers. Does your hair still smell the same? Would you still make the same noises for him?

Reality brings him back to life earth. Are you in love, or married, or with the father?

And then you turn his direction, closing the gap, failing to notice him standing like a stiff board in the middle of the sidewalk until you’re too close, eyes darting up and up-

to meet his.

Your mouth drops open. An ocean of people flow around where you’re both frozen in place, and he gives you a sheepish smile. “Uh, hey.”

Your hand cups the back of the baby’s head, and you look panicked, scared, before you blurt out the one thing he didn’t expect:

“I didn’t know how to contact you.”

Wait… what?

#peaches writes #simon riley #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #phone writing

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mooishbeam · 8 months

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『♡』 In the Ring

♡ featuring: boxer!wriothesley x manager!reader

♡ summary: its hard managing a boxer full time. maybe it's time you relieve that stress. wc: 6.8k+ (???>":>?)

♡ cw/tw: mentions of trauma, mentions of violence, rough sex, overstim, face-sitting, size kink, unintentional edging, hair pulling, mentions of choking, argument, confessed feelings, slow burn, kinda toxic?

notes: can u tell how down bad i am for wriothesley. also do yall like the smaller text cause I do. jing yuan fluff next :)) art by sxnalien on twitter! <3 comments and reblogs are appreciated!

For a second, the crowd stills. Bright intense lamps illuminate the sweltering squared circle, buoyant under the nimble movement of the boxers. They trade blows, bobbing and throwing each devastating hook with an even deadlier counter. No one took a hit for the past minutes, and the audience scoots to the edge of their seats at the sheer stamina of the two. Both dripping sweat, barely holding on between the merciless clock and their steadfast opponent. You can almost hear the breeze of swift jabs cutting wind against their jaws. The one with blue gloves can barely manage to guard himself, with a swollen face and wobbly legs, while the crimson gloves deal relentless punches. The crowd shouts. Unintelligible echoes, some that pray for the win, others grieving the money they’re about to lose. He’s caught on the ropes, and attempts a wild swing to save himself, to save his career. Red gloves weaves effortlessly and delivers a brutal crush to his bloodied nose and possibly busted mouthpiece. The crack is resounding, it makes the commentators cringe. His skull flies back, and he comes crashing down from his dizzying tower. The head-first fall vibrates beneath the feet of investors in proximity.

DING DING DING

Mass uproar ensues. They jump out of their seats, flailing their arms, joy and pain in equilibrium.

“And he is out! It’s all over!” the commentator yells. Confetti floats golden dust from the ceiling. The victor stalks the ropes before hopping on them, his gloves raised in the air. Glistening, high off elation, but somehow composed in his attitude, akin to a wolf.

“A savage knockout from the untouchable world champion, the king of the ring, Wriooothesley!”

“Wrio, Wrio, Wrio!” they chant. You’re standing near the ropes, already identifying which joints you’ll need to observe after his victory lap. It’s hectic, and you’re jotting down the state of his figure. Past experiences sew through each deep scar carving his rugged biceps and abs, the bruises display early signs of discoloration. He’s tall on the unseen throne, it feels like you’re there with him. A million eyes in that vast stadium, and yet, those midwinter eyes ebbed in silver only look at you.

Your beginnings as a manager were tumultuous. You could barely comprehend how out of your league you were working for a renowned agency fresh out of college. Though you found quick success in your ability to grab the attention of investors through public relations, you weren’t equipped just yet with the hindsight in preparing for scandals. The other athletes you worked with served no problem, and so you never had to worry about their appeal. Higher ups praised your extensive portfolio, and at such a young age, it was even more commendable. You earned it, fame and respect, interviews and gossip—a delicate dance. You were always busy, assisting your clients throughout the day and maintaining their presence while they slept. It was hard work, but you loved doing it.

That was until you worked with amateur boxer, Childe.

A snappy, overconfident lightweight fighter with no regard for anything or anyone. He had an unmistakable void in his eyes, but you fought for him ceaselessly, to prove that he wasn’t the cold person he portrayed himself as. You bore with his flirtatious compliments and innuendos, the need to focus him whenever you documented his afflictions, and he’d not-so-subtly flex his biceps. Childe was unnecessarily violent with underhanded tactics. The media knew this and did everything to amplify that bellicose story. You’d combat it, negate it, but he only fed the flames with threats of retaliation. Taking his phone wasn’t enough, and you couldn’t get through to him. It was only a matter of time before he went off the deep end.

The day you slept, you discovered a restlessness you’d endure indefinitely. The flickering glow of your device woke you at midnight as hundreds of notifications congested your screen. 128 missed calls from your agency, 50 from news sources, and none from Childe. When you processed the damage from his deplorable stunt, you nearly hurled your phone out the window. He posted revenge porn, and evidently turned off his phone. Surely, there’d be a way to fix this. The chances seemed to dissolve with each text turning green. You started pacing, battling with morality and loyalty and anger. What he did was disgusting, but it’s your job to save him, right? Is he worth saving? You spoke with 4 managers at once, switching through motives and bickering until morning. As you flipped through the television, another emotion struck you.

There he was, on a tasteless gossip channel. An interview you didn’t arrange, with a man you’ve never seen before. And he was...crying? The sob story emitting from his deceitful lips was almost impressive. Childe went on about how “demanding and horrible” you were backstage. The crocodile tears dried up through dodgy anecdotes, but it was enough to have people hooked. You were allegedly physically and emotionally abusive. He was too scared to speak up due to your position and he just couldn’t bear it any longer. Then he dropped the bomb; he blamed you for his post. You forced him to do it, jealous of his previous partners, emphasizing how enamored you were of him. The questionable tears began to fall again, but this time he covered his mouth, withholding the duping smile crawling on his face.

You were filled with blinding rage, unable to control the fury at which your remote connected with the screen. It was everywhere now, social media websites booming with live opinions. He had no reason to slander you, and you couldn’t pinpoint why he chose to hurt you like this. You cried for him, shared stories of childhood and family. The knife you used to protect him was firm in your back, twisting and digging with each disgusting message in your inbox. You had no game plan to conduct, and no tears left to cry.

Within a week, you finally understood how cruel this industry could be. Within a week, you were no longer on top. You lost clients fast. It spread like wildfire and not a single outlet spared an ear for your side. People you called friends, coworkers, hadn’t replied to your messages. When you got back to work, the rooms were silent as you passed. You could feel their judgement, whispers rattled with rumors and accusations. They waited for the tiniest slip-up and pounced like hyenas—you were eaten alive by their pitiful stares. You attempted to tell your truth multiple times throughout the week, but it was consistently rejected. The headlines were eye-catching:

“Manager From Hell: Childe Tells All!”

“He Cries: A Story of Love and Jealousy”

Your stomach churned to the magazines being shown. Despite the great amount of loss you suffered, you were thankful for the one person that believed you, your boss.

“Childe is a lying little snake. The media knows that, too.”

“Then why is this happening?”

“Money. That story is making bank right now. But I know for a fact you wouldn’t do this” he reassured.

“Thank you, sir. But...I lost everything; I just don’t know what to do.” The weariness was heavy in your voice.

“I have someone you can manage. It won’t be easy, but if anyone can do it, it’s you.” You were unsure of yourself now, and he continued.

“You’re one of my best. If you want to climb out of this, now’s your chance.” Yes, you were unsure, drowning in doubt. But if the only way to get above water was to keep swimming, you wouldn’t give up so easily.

Wriothesley wasn’t exactly known for his kindness. Crude, cocky, maybe even spoiled were descriptions that circulated in the tabloids. He had a knack for pissing reporters off by not answering questions or humming over their voice with a shit-eating grin on his face. Women loved him, however, throwing bras and phone numbers written on scrap as the condemned “bad boy” departed post-game. They screamed his name at once, and he’d done nothing to deserve it. He relished infamy—that way, it was much harder to pry into his private life.

It had to be a coincidence that it was someone you fangirled over. In college, your eyes were glued to the screen every Sunday, waiting for Wriothesely’s post-conference and behind the scenes interviews. He didn’t speak often, but just the sight of those inky strands streaked with ash made your heart flutter featherlight in your chest.

When you first approached him, he was just as arrogant as you’d expect.

“Good evening!” you beamed. You caught him outside the gym, and he still had his headphones in. Full volume and blankly staring as you went on about the opportunity, silent under the blaring music. He took one earbud out when you finished.

“Hm? Who’re you?”

You were slightly annoyed. “Let me reintroduce myself, I’m (Y/N). Your new manager.”

“No. Bye.” He began to walk past you without an ounce of care. You couldn’t lose it like this.

“Ah, wait!” He turned half-heartedly.

“Listen, I get it. You don’t want to be bossed around. But honestly, your reputation is shit. That can’t be good for business.” you persuaded. He towered over you, the figure of a Greek giant peeked through the compression top as he lazily watched you.

“So? Why do you care?” he remarked.

“I’ll help you. Sponsors, advertisements, whatever you want. You’re good, but you can be so much better. Let’s make money together.” You held your hand out, awaiting a handshake of approval. He merely glanced at your limp wrist.

“Help? You’re obviously not doing this for free.”

“Of course not. Give a little, take a little. I don’t do charity cases” you shrugged.

He groaned, raking his fingers through his thick mane. At the very least, he hadn’t walked away yet. “I'd prefer for my life to be private.”

“Then I’ll guarantee your privacy.”

“Really?” he scoffed. “What can you give me besides empty promises?”

“Anything you desire. Work with me, and I’ll make it happen.” That offer enticed him. No one had been this persistent with him yet, he scared off any manager that dared succor him. It was slightly entertaining, the way you burned ambition in your eyes, you were so easy to read. Most people wouldn’t look directly at him, and here you were, ready to follow him home if that’s what it took. He chuckled, and his massive hand reached for yours.

You shook hands, and your fates were sealed.

That was a year ago, and ever since then he’s been a thorn in your side. Nonstop drama and rectifying consumed your life. You didn’t think a man who spoke so little in public could talk so much around you. Whenever you argue—which is a frequent occurrence—his smirk grew wider at your frustration. You weren’t sure why you ever liked him in the first place. He only puts in effort when it comes to sparring, but you’re determined to ameliorate his standing, and in turn, yours.

The minute you open the doors to the hall, the sound of pummeled sandbags, clanking metal, and sneakers skidding across the floor roars in your ears. Some men are dialed in on abusing the inanimate objects, the rest tense through repetitions of dumbbell curls with a hiss. You're in quick strides, the phone arm's length away from you as the sponsor on the other end screams. Another petty drama surrounding Wriothesley grabs the attention of the internet. Luckily, you have thorough experience remedying this.

“What are you going to do? You’re fucking with my money!” you hear the faint voice. You bring the phone back to your ear.

“Don’t I always deal with it? He fights, I make up for the other half. Give me a few hours.”

“I’m not going to wa-” You hang up at the response.

You propel the double doors free into a large room with a boxing ring in the center. A group of trainers swarm the perimeter, you can barely see through.

“Don’t be scared!” one of them taunt towards the sparring partner, who has an unthinkable panic creeping in goosebumps dotting his skin. Each sloppy dodge tilts him more and more off balance against the strikes. Wriothesley has a powerful stature, with his back curving in a way that accentuates the rough muscle shaping his spine. You drone an annoyed sigh at the commotion and push yourself through them.

“Move it, move!” you yell, before jostling your way to the front of the ring.

“Wriothesley! Times up.” He turns his head to the side, unintentionally sparing his partner and glares at you.

“Two minutes.”

“No. Now.” you command. He looks up at nothing, as if considering his options if he cusses you out. Then he begrudgingly drops the gloves and pulls himself under the ropes. The group disperses from the lack of action and he’s mere inches from you now. Sometimes you forget how to breathe in his half-naked presence.

“What the fuck is your problem?” He mumbles while drying his head with a towel. His colossal forearms are raised over his head, highlighting the happy trail thick down his abdomen and tufts of hair on his armpits.

“You. How many times do I have to tell you not to train during recovery?” you seethe.

“Damn. Must’ve slipped my mind.” He doesn’t sound convincing in the slightest.

“Well then, I’ll be sure to remind you hourly.”

“Nah, I’m good. Hearing you once a day is enough.” He tosses the towel to you like his dutiful servant and grabs his water bottle. The liquid drips down his chin and on his shorts, hanging below his v-line.

Your eyebrow twitches from withheld vexation. “If you don’t want to hear me twice, I suggest you do what I tell you. We need to talk.” A heavy sigh leaves him as he stretches, and he passes you the water bottle. If you had the strength to collapse the bottle with one hand, you would. “Lead the way” he goads.

Wriothesley follows you through the backdoor of the gym to a secluded alleyway. When you get there, he immediately pulls out a cigarette you didn’t know he had. You were aware he smokes occasionally, but seeing it physically coaxed a strange worry in your gut. You twist your phone to him, to display evidence of him instigating an argument with Childe on social media. He reads in silence, briefly laughing at the recollection of his own comebacks, then lights the cigarette.

“What’s this? Didn’t I say keep a low profile?” you reprimand.

He drags in a deep breath of nicotine, and you eye the foul scent with distaste. He blows it above your unhappy face. “Calm down. Once a month thing. That fucker's testing me.”

“This can’t happen again, Wriothesley.” He ignores you to continue his mumbling. “I should break his neck like a twig. He’s lucky he didn’t say that shit to my face, fucking punk.” he grouses. You're struggling to gather your thoughts, the cigarette compacted between his thick fingers irritates you.

“We all appreciate your restraint, however-” you get closer, and yank the stick out his hand.

“No-!” Before he can finish, you promptly smudge it underneath your shoe. You aren’t sure how he’d react, but you didn’t expect him to sulk like a puppy.

“You aren’t doing this shit while I’m here.”

“Oh my god” he pouts, throwing his hands into his face and pulling them down.

“You’re lucky I don’t report it to the doctor. None of this, ever again.”

“Fuck, alright just...” he lets out a defeated sigh. “What do you want me to do about it? Apologize publicly?” You need him to do nothing; neither agency wants controversy, and it’d most likely be swept under the rug in just a couple days. You point his water bottle to him.

“Nope, I’ll handle it. Just sit there and be pretty.” you reassure. He leans down to your height with a sweet smile and even sweeter gaze.

“I do that well, don’t I?” he quips.

“You manage.” He latches onto the water bottle, and drinks from it in your hand while looking at you. A soft heat envelops you beyond words that never reach your lips.

“Listen to what I’m saying. Low. Profile.” Wriothesley comes up from thirst, dragging his tongue along the straw to the top, and licks his blushed lips. He delights in your flustered reaction.

“Low. Profile.” he repeats in a sarcastic drawl.

Later in the week, you receive a call in your office. It was fairly busy today, with coworkers constantly “checking in”, more so to see Wriothesley sitting across from you. He had no reason to be here, and you were surprised at his arrival. Be it boredom or a certain longing, a dull swell pulsed in his chest once he saw your overworked smile.

“Hello, this is (Y/N) of Boxe Association. May I know who I’m speaking with?” Wriothesley’s ears perk up at your sudden professionalism, and he mimics your cadence.

“Good afternoon, it’s Isadora.” Isadora was an event coordinator you previously worked with before your controversy. You understood that she stopped communicating to protect her business, but the pain lingered. You twirl the phone cord around your fingers, and meet eyes with Wriothesley, who’s laid back in the chair, his arms behind his head.

“Oh. Hey, it’s been a while.” you say. You turn your swivel chair away from him to continue the conversation. His eyebrow twitches slightly with an unconscious scowl, and he walks towards your chair.

“It has. I’m calling because I have a proposition that might interest you. I believe a meet and greet would be appropriate for your client. A large chunk of his fanbase are young adult women, however, he’s also popular with children.” He spins the chair around with a firm hand and presses his cheek against the phone.

“That’s true.” You side eye him, and without skipping a beat, mush his nosey face away. His hot breath on your digits makes your skin tingle.

“Who is that” he mumbles. You'd never seen Wriothesley interact with children, and you have every reason to be hesitant.

“Hmm...any positive activity with children is good publicity. I’ll consider it. I’ll let you know by tonight.” The second you hang up, you release his face.

“Why are you being annoying-”

“Who were you talking to” he chides.

“Isadora. She’s an event coordinator.” His clenched jaw unwinds. “She wants to do a meet and greet with you and a few kids. If we go through with this, I’ll have a camera crew and some reporters there. It’ll be good for your image.”

“Okay.” he agrees. That was quick.

“...Are you sure? Kids are loud and obnoxious a lot of the time.”

“So? Fine by me. I can teach them how to fight.” Your skin crawls at the thought of Wriothesley launching a child through a wall. “That won’t be necessary.”

“It’ll be fun.” The more he assures you, the more uneasy you feel.

“Wriothesley, I’m serious. Don’t screw this up” you plead. He holds his pinky out. “I won't.” His loose interpretation of promises was dubious at best, but you had no other options, and this might be your only opening. You curl to his word.

After parleying the finer details, you broadcast a raffle for young fans to meet Wriothesley. The traffic to the website was overwhelming, and you quickly began sorting out tickets for the favored winners.

Fortunately, the next couple of weeks were par for the course.

It’s the night before the event, and you’re getting ready for bed. You sit at your desk in a big T-shirt and do your daily review of personal data. As you're scrolling through and identifying what needs improvement, you get a notification on your phone.

“Breaking News: Boxer Bar Fight!” Curious, you open the tab to a video. It makes your breath stall, sweating frantically. You can’t think clearly, and your shaky hands can barely increase the volume. Unidentifiable noises and wobbly camerawork made it impossible to catch anything besides those familiar inky black strands, throwing punches in a drunken stupor at a defenseless man. Your previous conundrum flashes through your memory in a horrific stop-motion; the duping smile on his face.

No. It’s happening all over again. Why is he at a bar? You messaged him before he went to bed. He never goes to bars. Why now, the night before the event? It’s late, he doesn’t go anywhere without telling you.

He promised.

None of it made sense as you threw on any sweatpants in your drawer and ran out the door. You can’t wait until morning. Disaster punctures and tears any rational decision you contemplate. Shouting silently within your mind, a crashing rage—or sadness—boils in your nervous stomach. You’re tunnel vision in a taxi on the way to his address.

When you get there, you bang on the door with a fury that vibrates throughout the archway. His home is extravagant, with two cars and an expansive driveway. You bang again.

“Wriothesley!” He finally opens the door. He’s still half asleep, pajama pants low on his waist, groggily leaning against the arch.

“(Y/N)? Uh, what’s up?” He slurs in a deep slumbering voice through heavy eyelids. You barge in without saying anything. “Make yourself at home, I guess.”

The interior is just as opulent as the exterior, it almost looks untouched. Every corner has a case or shelf stacked with ornate trophies and medals of excellence. It was the home of someone who achieved peak perfection and reveled in it. He follows you to his living room, bewildered at your furious expression. You play the video in front of him, and he watches with that same puzzled attitude that makes you angrier. You try taking deep breaths to compose yourself, but they halt shallowly.

“What the fuck is this?” you accuse.

“What? I don’t know.” “Like hell you don’t know, this shit is on every homepage. Are you serious?”

The cranky boxer pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs. You show up at his house, and it’s to badger him about a rumor. Your temperament only heats the smoldering ember fueled by incessant claims. He covers his mouth, physically stopping the involuntary response.

“Okay” he says, and blurts a facetious chuckle. Your heart thumps in your chest and ears.

“Oh, It’s a fucking joke? I bust my ass to save your career and you’re laughing?” you snap, voice increasing in volume until it reaches a broken peak. He returns with the same energy.

“When did I ask you to fix anything? Did you ever think that maybe I don’t fucking need you-”

“You can barely control your smoking habits you pompous ass-”

“I would if you didn’t nag me all the time. Whining and complaining, it’s fucking annoying!” he yells. Neither of you meant the words spilling out the bubbling surface, but your tongues were solely seasoned with the next spiteful jab.

“Yes, whining! Because all you need to do is be on the straight and narrow, but you take nothing seriously, Wriothesley, and that’s exactly why-”

“Exactly why what? Why your career went to shit so you’re piggybacking off mine?”

Your battle stops. You can’t find the words to rebuttal. All the opinions of your colleagues, the media, Wriothesley, and yourself coagulate into a lump that fills the tightening throat. Pride comforts tears brimming your eyes.

He pauses, as though he came to reality. An apology attempts to form on his lips, but it never manifests. “(Y/N), I didn’t-”

“See you in the morning” you choked. You walk to the door, and he reaches out to the infinite space thick between you two.

You didn’t sleep the entire night. It’s morning, and you’re exhausted. You consistently replayed the quarrel in your head through the taxi ride home, and when you strived for rest, it plagued your mind. Your coffee is untouched during your morning routine, a movement comparable to zombies. You don’t bother to confirm if Wriothesely is at the building—either way you owe it to the event holders to be there.

You arrive just before the children file into the training room. Thankfully, Wriothesley is there in the center. Live cameras from reporters and parents border the walls; if something were to occur, it would be irreversible. Your head suddenly hurts.

Perhaps playing it up for his reputation, the smile stretched across his face is a sunny warmth you’ve never seen from him. He waves to them, and they erupt with screams. To your astonishment, he gets on his knees to be eye level with them. They all jump into his arms at once, and he topples over onto the mat.

And he’s laughing. This grumpy asshole fighter is laughing. A hearty, genuine laugh as he wraps his sturdy arms around all of them and picks them up at once. He whirls them around and they orchestrate high-pitched giggles. “Ready to have some fun?” he chortles. They say yes to varying degrees of excitement, and the meet and greet proceeds.

You can’t help but smile when he frolics with the kids. They chase him with boxing gloves, he pretends to fall dramatically. Dogpiling him, he lets out a shrill scream of defeat. He manages to work in proper defense techniques while they jump him like a test dummy. He tosses each kid in the air whenever they ask, and never tells them no. You receive another call from Isadora amid your admiration, and you step outside.

“Hey! Good news, these views are off the charts and the internet is really in his favor right now” she congratulates.

“That’s great...what about the video from last night? Did you see it?” you ask.

“Video...oh, that! Don’t worry, it’s confirmed fake.” What? Oh no. Immediate regret stirs in your blood, and you force the phone away to catch your breath. You feel utterly stupid.

“Hello?” You quickly bring the phone back to your ear. “Yea, sorry. I have to go; I’ll call you later.” you insist. You can’t facepalm any harder. You make your way back to the training room, where the kids decorate his gloves with iridescent stickers. Wriothesley occasionally looks at you, but you can’t bear to show your guilty face.

When the event is over, you both make sure to hug every child on the way out and thank the parent for coming. You’re sorting through mountains of requests people made to see Wriothesley again, and you mute your phone over the influx of emails. Peeking at the broadcast, under the footage in bold letters:

“(Y/N) Back from the Dead?”

It wasn’t the most flattering title, but it proved that public perception was salvageable. You emit a sigh of relief, for you and Wriothesley. As you’re packing your things to exit, he blocks the door with his body.

“Can we talk?” You were dreading this discussion, but agreed, nonetheless. The ride to his home is silent, you grapple with a proper apology.

You lean against the kitchen bar, while he’s laxing on the couch. Sleep deprivation torments you, causes you to wander as you fill in papers from sponsors. You can’t see the way Wriothesley steals glances at your slack figure curving to the marble. He eventually spoke.

“So, um.”

“I’m sorry, I forgot to tell you. You did a good job today Wriothesley, you should be proud.” You flash a meek smile. He fumbles with his thumbs uncomfortably.

“I am. Aren’t I the best?” he boasts.

“You are” you say. The lack of sleep beckons you to a spur of honesty as you scribble. “You have stunning form, perfect accuracy, and immeasurable talent. Not just anyone can do that.” you return. He gazes at you, that dull swell pumping in his veins again. The cozy radiance of lights brightens your tired eyes.

“You’re a big fan, huh?” he chuckles.

“Of course, I used to watch you in college. I had a major crush on you” you snort. “Everything you are is amazing, but you know this. So cut it out.” He sits on the armrest, swallowing your confessions. The room is entirely too hot, he needs alleviation—he needs you.

“Sorry. For what I said.”

“Forget it. It's my fault, I was careless. I apologize.” you admit.

“You know I didn’t do it, right?”

“I know.”

“I didn’t.”

“I know.” you reassure.

“What if some other bullshit controversy comes out. Then what?” You stop writing to give him your full attention.

“Then, I’ll trust you. We’ve gotten this far. Even if no one else does, even if for some reason I lose my job and I’m not your manager anymore, I’ll trust you, Wriothesley.” you reveal. He doesn’t move. Wriothesley knew he wasn’t deserving of trust, and he’d made a plethora of mistakes throughout your arrangement. You had every right to leave him long ago. Nobody gave him the time of day or cared for his wellbeing like you did, but he couldn’t reciprocate. Even so, here he kneels, at the feet of an angel that shows him undying mercy.

Wriothesley stalks at you, but you remain. He looms over you, pinning you to the counter with both arms, inches from your face. It isn’t a threatening force, but one that begs for confirmation. That slated storm searches for a specific craving, you feel his chest rising and falling laden with yours.

“You’re too close” you quiver. The bitter musk and vanilla enveloping your senses makes you foggy, it lingers through the whole house.

“Tell me to leave.” His mouth slants to you, and he waits expectingly. You ogle his features, the scratches of a warrior celebrated across his hardy torso. His hair brushes against your forehead, imperfect and uniquely beautiful. Why were you mad, again?

“Tell me to back off, (Y/N)” he pleads. The pads of your fingers lightly caress his ear, then his jaw.

“Please” he whispers. Your thumb grazes his bottom lip, and he succumbs to the urge.

You collide fervently, lips coated in definitive desire. Dancing with rough, bruising kisses that don’t make space for air. It smears on your face, dips down your neck and swiftly returns to your lonely mouth. The pressure of the counter bar burns across your lower back from his weight, but those mind-numbing kisses soften any injury. You bite his lip when he pulls away, and he groans. Suddenly, he lifts you effortlessly with his hands on your ass, and you clash teeth and tongue in a passionate challenge. He demands entry, and you moan into the wet mass intertwining through sloppy kisses. It explores your mouth, sending throbs to your nerves and subdues any control you have left. Your arms are wrapped around his neck, but you yearn for deeper contact. He licks up the organ, and spots moist, hungry kisses on your jaw. You both take a fleeting breath before converging again. You find passage in his hair and suck staining rose-colored marks on his neck while he carries you to the bedroom.

“You’ve been waiting for this, hm? Slutty groupie” Wriothesley moans. You drag kisses along the shell of his ear. He tosses you onto the fluffy bedding and haphazardly strips to his underwear. The wide mirror opposite his bed gives you a glimpse of his thighs and shapely bottom hugging the briefs. You’re supposed to be undressing, but that thronging bulge made for a titan makes you nervous for what’s to come. He palms the erection to soothe the ache and climbs over you. He’s somewhat gentle, careful with the bulk of his body as he cradles your face for more kisses. The way he looks at you, a covet softness or misted lust tantalizing the wetness pooling in your panties. He moves to your neck, French kissing down your throat and on your collarbone. You feel like a virgin again, heart racing from every graze of his fingers and lips. His calloused digits grope the plush fat of your thighs, and gradually reach the hem of your skirt. You snake your hands over his pecs and abs and read the muscles. Moaning into each other's mouths, indulging every part of your bodies as you’ve wanted to do for months. He pulls your skirt off and you hold your button-down over your exposed panties. Heat spreads in your body, and he amuses at your sudden bashfulness.

“Oh…you’re shy?” he teases, before popping the buttons off with a brutal rip. “Wrio!” you yelp. That’s the first time you called Wriothesley a nickname; he must’ve died and went to heaven. The lace gift wrapped around your breasts taunts him, and he buries his face immediately. He nips the sensitive skin and snaps the clasp off. “Cute. Need to feel you” he husks. He twirls the bud in his mouth, while manipulating the other between his girthy fingers. Alternating among loving hickies and harsh tugs of his teeth on your nipple. You whine, and his laugh tickles your raw skin. He flips over on his back and steadies you on top of him. Discards the rest of your top, and let’s out a shaky groan.

“You’ve never been this speechless” he says. You smile and kiss his puffy lips, your hands kneading his chest. “You’re so pretty” you coo. He huffs while rubbing circles on your waist, eyeing your inner thighs covered in juices.

“Then come fuck my pretty face.” He slips under the waistband and tweaks the fabric, but you grip his wrists. “Wait! Let me shower first- “

“You said you'd give me anything I desire, remember that? Keep your promise." He yanks the thin material down your legs in your weak clutches, trailing a string of drool that sticks to your labia. “C’mere” he grunts and lifts you towards his face. Your thighs are soft on either side of him, and you still in his grasp. He lolls his tongue out, but you’re reluctant to fully sit. “I’m heavy” you murmur.

“Shut up.” He embraces your body, and you have no choice but to settle in his warmth. He keeps you flush with his flat tongue, swiping up and down the squishy flesh molding to his mouth. You writhe in his grasp, but he continues to lap at your clit with a starving lust. Wriothesely soaks in your velvet skin and perfumed essence dribbling down his chin. He doesn’t come up for air, and your brain is mush over him, his lips slurping your quivering cunt. A buzzing intensity courses through your twitching stomach. You rut your hips against his mouth, and he maintains his position while you use him. You’re grinding on his tongue, absent-mindedly biting your lips and mewling endlessly as you bring yourself closer to climax. He hums while sucking the nub and the vibrations make you cry out.

“Wrio, ‘m coming” you whine. You hump his mouth until you come undone in a pulsating finish. His hands restrain you, greedily devouring the newly found honey as it pours out. You ride it through while he curls the tip of his tongue at your opening. Without warning, you feel the pink muscle push in your recovering vulva. “S-Shit, Wrio” you whimper, trembling on him as he drives inside. He seizes the back of your thighs and begins to bounce you up and down the mushy appendage slowly stretching you. The sensation is overwhelming, his nose skims your oversensitive clit each time you drop, and you sob. Wriothesley moves faster, your hands entangle in his hair. You babble please’s repeatedly, gazing sensually at each other as the coil winds in your gut. More, more. Then it snaps, an abrupt shock, clenching on his tongue as you cream. He raises your lower half; the wetness collecting in your convulsing heat makes his cock strain more than it already suffered.

“Such a cute slut” Wriothesley husks. Your numb legs can’t navigate on their own, so he places you on your stomach. “We’re not done.” He springs his throbbing length free. The veins are consistent, prominent up his shaft to the angry red crown—9 inches begging to be inside you. Fresh precome trickles down his tip and he sighs at the bloated pain in his hefty balls. You arch your back, presenting yourself to his awaiting size. When he doesn’t enter you turn to him impatiently and he smirks.

“Put it in” you whine. Wriothesley spreads your backside, and watches you clench around the ghost of him. He glazes himself with your slick, and moans from the feeling of your puffy lips cuddling his cock. “It’s not every day a fan gets to sleep with me. Be grateful.” he teases. He pumps through your squashed thighs, the head prodding your nub while he forces your chest flush with the bed. After he thoroughly coats himself, he nudges the bulbous tip to your entrance.

Wriothesley sinks into your sex. You’re gripping him like a vice despite the searing soreness of your body accommodating the scale. The fevered sleeve nearly makes him crash to the hilt, but he stutters gradually to relieve your discomfort. He hits the base and shudders. You feel unbelievably stuffed, as if it’s squirming in your cervix. Then he starts at a savage pace. He’s using you like a flesh-light, balls smacking your overwhelmed tender nub with a carnal impulse. His moans spill uncontrollably as he watches your rippling ass and viscous webs blend together, clinging to his cock and forming a cloudy froth at the base. Your knuckles turn white on the sheets; you can’t think or feel anything that isn’t him, core surging with intense want.

“Fuck, you’re so tight, gonna snap my dick off. Ah- gonna make sure you can’t walk t-tomorrow. Then- hah- then you won’t be able to find anyone who fucks you like this, who makes you come like this.” He’s rambling and stuttering, completely incoherent the closer he gets. He glances at the mirror, then at you. You feel your hair jerked back by his massive hand, and lock eyes with Wriothesley in his drunken haze. “Stop, it’s embarrassing!” you slur. You’re both sheened with sweat, disheveled bodies satiating the hunger in any way you can.

“Shh, you hear that?” The squelching slam of passion echoes in the room, sopping down your leg through his pummeling thrusts. Your back bends unnaturally as though it were folded in half. “You’re so fucking hot, so needy for me.” His veins adorn your walls, you start to tear up from the mixture of pleasure and pain. He notices your tears and holds you up so that your back is flush with his chest.

“It hurts?” he questions, stalling his movement. You feel him twitch. “No, feels s’good Wrio. More” you mewl. He chuckles, and gently wraps his hand around your throat before pumping again.

“Too good? Am I the best you’ve ever had? Say it.” He moves faster, free hand rubbing your clit. Your knees buckle and eyes roll back to your skull, he takes in the scene of your convulsing figure in the mirror. “S’best I’ve ever had, please ‘m so close!” you rasp, matching the rhythm of his thrusts. He chases his high, panting animalistically in your ear.

“Shit- look how desperate you are. Want me to come inside? Y-yea, I bet you fucking do”

“‘M coming!” you babble.

“Good. Make a mess.” he commands. Fire trails up your limbs, and you tighten before falling apart. Fluttering around him, taking him deeper while you come on his sack. Wriothesley pursues his sputtering hips, spurting thick globs that paint you white. He whimpers as you milk his spasming length dry and presses tired kisses along your shoulder blade. When he comes down from his apex, he turns you over on your back. It’s hard for him to not be proud of your boneless existence sprawled on his bed. You’re both breathing hard in silence, and he leaves for a couple minutes. You’re stunned when he returns with a damp rag to clean you up, and some dark substance in a mug.

You find the strength to sit up while he wipes your lower areas. “Where are my clothes?”

“...For what?” he mumbles.

“To leave?” It seemed like common sense to you—boxers usually don’t go for long-term relationships, and so you assumed it to be a one-night stand. You dip over the edge of the bed and locate your skirt, but Wriothesely hops up and snatches it before you can. “I’ll put it in the wash. Relax.”

“I didn’t know you were so hospitable. Do you do this for every girl?” you tease. He gets visibly upset, and shoves the cup from the dresser in your hands. “Don’t piss me off. Now, drink. I’ll order food.”

Multicolored sunset flaking through the sheer curtains frames his stature while he’s on the phone. You sip the tea, it’s a vile grainy taste. For a moment you imagine what life could be like with him by your side—poor quality tea and an awful temper. In your pleasant aftermath, it doesn’t seem bad at all.

#genshin smut #genshin au #wriothesley smut #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley genshin #wriothesley headcanons #wriothesley #fontaine #genshin x reader #genshin impact

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tia-222 · 4 months

Text

Arlinski Method to enter the void state effortlessly ♡

Hiii my loves, today I would like to introduce you guys to a great time transposing method that was developed back in the 1980's to travel through different realities, but the fun part is we are gonna use it for the void state. It's super fun and easy method and hardly even spoke about in our community. The reason I want to share this method because I absolutely love methods that were developed in the 19's, the methods were practical and easy. The fun part is it takes about 10 minutes, ready to enter the void state? 🖤

What is the Arlinski method :

The transposing method is taking your consciousness,and body at times to another place or the void state. You can do this while walking, sitting it laying down. There's no hazards attached to this method. You need no guide. You are control of every single thing. Do what you want with this method, you are unlimited. Transposing is like dreaming, but this is another dimensional experience all together. You will have no fears or beliefs, just command yourself to be in the void and you will.

How to do the Arlinski method :

1. Find a comfortable quiet place, where you can either lay on your back or side. You can even do this before bed or in the morning <3.

2. As you laying down, slow down and relax your body TOTALLY. To help, tell yourself " relax, relax , relax, ". Let go of everything and de - tense all muscle's.

A simple technique to do this goes like this : tighten all your muscles, hold it, release it all slowly and relax.

3. Remember you are not clearing out all your thoughts, but watching them come and go. Your thought process will naturally begin to slow down.

4. Begin to slow your body down. Don't strain yourself in this doing this. Don't push this breathing, keep it relaxed. Slow down your breathing, Taking less air, each time your breathe. Slowing your breathing will help relax your body and slow it's function. As your breathing slows, it will obtain a certain rhyme and you will begin to experience vibration because your body will start to synchronise. Among these experiences, you will ringing in your eyes, your body will start to tingle, these just symptoms that you avoid ignore because you body is starting to separate it's consciousness. You will feel a shift in vibrations and you will feel a wave come over you as you reach full body synchronisation. You will feel a detached feeling from your body or even a floating feeling. This is you and your body syncing together. They are ready to be directed by you and your place of choosing. You are pilot, the navigator giving your mind instructions to take you to your desired place. You can repeat the word " void , void' . And your mind will instantly take you there.

Summary of the Arlinski method :

♡ Relaxation: Start by relaxing your mind and body. Find a comfortable, quiet space where you won't be disturbed.

♡ Breathing Control: Gradually slow down your breathing. Take deep, slow breaths, making sure not to strain or create tension.

♡ Body Synchronization: As you continue to slow your breath, your body will begin to synchronize. You might experience vibrations or sensations in your body, similar to ringing in your ears.

♡ High Vibration: Your body will reach a high-frequency vibration state, signifying the beginning of the transposing process.

♡ Transposing Phase: During this phase, you can guide your consciousness to any place or time you desire. Your mind will act as a navigator, and you provide clear instructions. Repeat " void , void, " and you'll be there Instantly.

Enjoy the Experience: Once you've arrived at your chosen reality, you can interact with it and enjoy the experience.

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maiiuelle · 15 days

Text

˚❀˚

you and rafe spend the majority of your time together at tannyhill. it just makes more sense, his house is bigger, usually vacant, and void of your father, who has plenty of choice words about your new rich boyfriend. but today is different, your dad is out investigating a break in on the opposite side of the island, and your mom disappeared off to the golf club hours ago. it’s the perfect opportunity to sneak rafe in.

“come on, come on! you’re gonna love my room.” you hug rafe’s arm, tugging on him excitedly. a smirk pulls at his cheeks, finding your eagerness adorable.

“alright, m’coming — gonna pull my damn arm off.”

you push open the door, revealing your cozy bedroom. there’s a big window overlooking the street with a vintage bench shoved underneath for your nighttime reading. a soft white rug sprawls over almost the entire hardwood floor, and your vanity sits next to the door, expensive makeup products and gold jewelry cluttering the surface. on the opposite wall is your overflowing bookshelf, your nightstand with your record player, a warm floor lamp, and your giant bed that sits in the center. it has pink floral sheets, white fluffy pillows, and a wide-eyed siamese cat sitting in the middle.

“oh! this is simon.” you introduce your kitty proudly. you didn’t expect him to be out, usually hidden away somewhere the second someone new steps foot in the house. in hopes he’ll stick around, you sit down gently on the bed beside him to run your fingers through his white fur. "he's a little shy."

“shy? fur-ball looks like he wants to eat me.” rafe raises an eyebrow at him, pacing closer. the little kitty’s eyes widen and his ears go back, rafe’s looming height too intimidating too fast — he’s quick to abandon the bed, hiding underneath as usual.

“rafe!” you whine, all hopes of friendship between the two of them lost immediately. you cross your arms dramatically, pouting. “gotta be slow — gentle. he’s sensitive!”

“yeah, yeah. i’m sure he’s just fine, babe.” he brushes it off in the moment but seems to take your words into consideration. later, when he’s lying half asleep in your pink sheets with you curled up beside him, the siamese cat hops back up on the bed, landing right in rafe’s lap. it surprises both of them, the cat probably forgetting he was even there. you don’t notice a thing, already out cold, lulled to sleep in rafe’s arms.

the two just stare at each other for a second, neither really sure what to do. in a moment of bravery, simon sniffs around the comforter and even rafe’s ringed hand, still unsure but suddenly not as skittish. he finds a dip in the blankets, and eyes rafe suspiciously before finally curling up between the two of you. “hm, m’not so bad now, huh?” rafe’s sleepy, gravely voice is soft, and he slowly brings his free hand to brush through the purring kitty’s soft fur.

˚❀˚

#my inbox is open! ‧₊˚.#he’s baaaaack #this feels rushed eek!!#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe x reader #obx #rafe cameron drabble #rafe drabble #rafe cameron headcanon #rafe headcanon

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lovebugism · 3 months

Note

could I request maybe shy!reader trying to play dnd with eddie but she's suuuuuuper nervous and confused and internally panicking about him not liking her anymore if she can't get into it?? Or if you wanna change it up please do!! love you!!

love you! hope you like it! — you get insecure about not liking d&d when a girl joins hellfire (shy!fem!r, hurt/comfort ish, established relationship, 1.4k)

The Hellfire room is void of the boyish bodies that usually fill it. The abandoned classroom, turned freak sanctuary, is now littered with pieces the rogues, clerics, and bards left behind — in half-empty soda cans and crumbled-up bags of potato chips.

While Eddie packs up his binder, filled to the brim with miscellaneous papers, you wander around the long table with a trashcan in hand. The wild-haired boy squints when you chuck Dustin’s crushed Pepsi in the bin. “You don’t have to do that, you know?”

“It’s okay,” you shrug. “I don’t mind.”

Eddie huffs through his nose, feeling too exhausted now to argue. He slides his binder into his bag and watches you rake Gareth’s chip crumbs into the trashcan. The urge to stop you becomes unignorable then.

“Okay, well, you know what? I mind—” the boy retorts, striding the very short distance to you and snatching the bin from your grip. He smiles a crooked grin and continues in a fantastical accent. “—‘Cause the Dungeon Master’s queen shouldn’t have to clean up after a bunch of lowborns, alright?”

You roll your eyes with a subdued giggle. “Someone’s gotta do it, Eds,” you insist as you reach for the plastic container he took. You exhale sharply when he hides it further behind him, pulling it further out of your way. “I wanna be of some use around here!”

Eddie’s face twists. “Don’t say that.”

You cower beneath his stare. “Well… It’s not like I actually play or anything. I just kinda… sit around… And watch you guys do everything…”

“Well, why would you play?” he laughs. “You don’t even like D&D.”

Something in the way he says it makes you ache. You’ve always felt distantly horrible about it — failing to take interest in something he holds so close to his heart. Hearing him reiterate that fact twists the knife lodged in your chest.

“That doesn’t bother you?” you wonder, impossibly shy. “That I don’t play?”

Eddie shrugs and sits the bin down again. “Why would that bother me?” he scoffs.

“I don’t know… ‘Cause you like it. And it’s your favorite thing to do in the whole world.”

“Well… Maybe not my favorite thing,” he croons with a mischievous glint in his eye.

Your nose scrunches in disdain. His laughter fills the empty room as his ringed hands spread warm along your sides. “I just feel bad,” you confess, gaze averted to the scuffed tile beneath your feet. “You know, that I can’t get into or whatever.”

Eddie meets your subtle pout with an unbothered grin. “There’s nothing to feel bad about. People like different things, babe. That’s life,” he assures you, squeezing softly at your sides. “I mean, it’s no different than me hating The Smiths, right? I still let you play their cassettes in the van, and you still sit in on all my campaigns— and that, sweetheart, is the meaning of true love…”

Unswayed, you jerk softly back when he leans down to kiss you. You frown up at him with your arms crossed between your bodies. “But Rory loves D&D. And she’s super pretty…”

Aurora Edwards was the newest edition to the Hellfire gang. She goes by Rory for short, though, ‘cause she’s cool like that and everything. Her dyed blonde hair is as wild as Eddie’s, cut into a makeshift mullet that sits sort of shaggy on her head — intentionally messy in a way only she can pull off.

She likes cool music and cool clothes and cool hobbies — because everything she does seems to have some sort of subverted flair to it. She’s smart and she’s nerdy and she’s beautiful. None of which seem fair. You’ve been stirring with feelings of inadequacy since you met her.

And Eddie doesn’t seem to get any of it. His brows furrow at your words, like none of them have any sort of meaning to him.

“She’s way more your type than I am,” you blurt.

A laugh sputters from his plush mouth. “You think my love for you is contingent on some stupid game?” he chuckles.

The way he says it makes you shrink. You feel sort of stupid about it now. “I don’t know…”

“Well, then, I have done a very shit job of being your boyfriend.”

Your chest stings. “No, you haven’t, Eddie—”

“Mm,” he hums, half playful, as he tilts his pretty head to his shoulder. “I have, though. ‘Cause if you think some other girl liking Dungeons and Dragons is gonna make me love you any less, then I have done something horribly, horribly wrong.”

You bite back a smile at his words, pursing your lips to the side of your mouth until the beam becomes impossible to ignore.

“‘Cause you’re kinda stuck with me, turns out,” the boy continues. “Unfortunately for you.”

“Unfortunately?” you echo with a scoff.

“Yeah. ‘Cause if some other schmuck comes around who likes listening to The Smiths and sitting in the sunshine, he’s gonna have to go through me.”

You breathe sharply through your nose in place of a laugh. “I don’t want another guy, Eds…” you confess, going shy all over again.

His nose scrunches as he plays coy. “Even if he doesn’t smoke?” he wonders in a sheepish murmur.

“Even if he doesn’t smoke.”

“Good,” he beams, pulling you into him by your belt loops. His breath fans over your jaw in a minty-nicotine concoction as he ducks his face closer to yours. “‘Cause I don’t want anyone else, either, alright? Even if they are almost as good as me at D&D… Actually, it’s kinda a turn-off, now that I’m thinking about it…”

“Is it?”

“Yeah… ‘Cause, like, I love teaching you about it and everything.”

“Even when I have no idea what you’re talking about?”

“Especially when you have no idea what I’m talking about,” he laughs, smiling so hard his cheeks speckle pink. “‘Cause you know how much I like it, so… You let me talk all the shit I want.”

“’S just because you’re so pretty when you talk about things you like,” you confess.

His face twists. “Am I?”

“Well, you’re pretty all the time, but…”

“You flatter me,” he huffs and pulls you closer. He smirks and goes quieter when he says, “And flattery goes a long way with me.”

“Does it?” you hum with a sunshine-coated giggle.

Eddie doesn’t answer you with words. He just presses his lips to your mouth and hopes you get the gist. His tongue swipes against yours, soft and sudden, as he guides you towards the table. You run into a rogue chair before he can get you on top of it. It screeches against the linoleum tile.

With his face in your hands, you giggle against his mouth. His denim-clad knee slips between your thighs.

The door squeaks softly open then. Rory enters, swift and unthinking. You and Eddie pull apart — one looking much more horrified than the other — as the blonde girl stands frozen in the doorway. Drowning in her sweatshirt and baggy jeans, she points a lanky finger towards the table.

“Sorry,” she apologizes, voice gritty and deep. “I just left my girlfriend’s jacket here, and she doesn’t know I stole it, so… She’d definitely kill me if I forgot it.”

“That’s okay. Come in,” Eddie shrugs with a tightlipped smile, nodding his head in a silent invitation. When Rory plucks the coat from the back of her chair, he says, “Tell Jess I said hi, yeah?”

The girl scoffs as she heads back towards the door again, leaving just as quickly as she came. “She still hates you, you know that, right?” she laughs. ‘Cause Jess was a cheerleader — pretty and sometimes kind, but dreadfully conservative. Her uptight nature often clashed with Eddie’s much more chaotic one.

“Well, tell her to get in line,” Eddie chuckles.

Before Rory leaves the room, she glances at the two of you over her shoulder. She winks with an eye smudged with black liner. “Have fun, you two,” she croons in a pretty voice before shutting the door behind her.

You stand, still and silent in place, wringing your anxious hands into a knot. Feeling like a total idiot, you refuse to meet Eddie’s gaze. You know he’s got a smug look on his face. You can hear the smirk in his voice when he says, “See? Not my type at all.”

#published by bug #eddie munson x reader #stranger things x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson #stranger things imagine #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #st drabbles #eddie spaghetti drabble

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wileys-russo · 2 months

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filling the void (2) II a.putellas x sister!reader

part one

so i kinda...angst'd a whole lot harder than planned? but the song listened to when breaking my own heart writing this was all the pretty girls by kaleo, i recommend a listen while you read! filling the void (2) II a.putellas x sister!reader

you tapped your foot somewhat anxiously as you sent a smile to the waitress hovering nearby, the older woman clearly wanting to take your order as she passed by for the fifth time since you'd sat down.

"buenos días pequeña." your attention shifted as your breakfast date finally arrived, your anxiety that she might not come melting away as you stood to greet her, the older girl pulling you into a hug as you kissed her cheek.

"thank you for coming." you smiled a little nervously at olga as the two of you sat down, the waitress appearing again within seconds as you both ordered a coffee and she left you be with a food menu.

"thank you for inviting me." olga smiled, hanging her bag on her chair. "not that i do not want to have breakfast with you nena, but can i ask why i am here? you did not sound like yourself on the phone this morning." olga started gently as you nodded.

through the few years she'd been with alexia olga had of course been welcomed into the family with open arms, and albeit the growing gap between you and your sisters you still liked her a lot and visa versa.

olga had been the most nervous to meet you when she first started seeing alexia, knowing both from her girlfriend and through the grapevine that you had been incredibly close with her last partner jenni before she and alexia broke up, olga fearing you might resent her for not being jenni.

but right away you saw how happy olga made alexia and how she often brought out a different side to your eldest sister, something goofier, more juvenile and softer like when alexia was younger and there was far less responsibility on her shoulders weighing her down.

"sí, i wanted to apologise to you." you got right to the point, your sisters girlfriend quirking an eyebrow curiously but nodding for you to continue.

"i had no idea the event my friends invited me to was yours i promise, if i had known before i would not have agreed to go. but they bought my ticket for me and i only realized when we arrived that it was manuelas. then i tried to tell them why i couldn't go in but they insisted and i wanted a night out." you started, twisting the rings on your fingers nervously.

"but i should have thought about it more before i agreed to go inside. if someone found out i was underage and you were serving me alcohol you could have been in a lot of trouble and i did not think about anyone but myself." you sighed deeply, a noise which held far too much responsibility for someone your age making olga frown a little out of concern.

"so i am very sorry." you wrapped it up as your coffees arrived, thanking the waitress with a smile as you took a cautious sip and awaited olga to speak.

"thank you for apologizing pequeña." olga started softly once she'd had a mouthful of her own coffee, nails tapping absentmindedly against the burnt orange ceramic mug cupped in her hands.

"but i am not mad, and i was not mad at you the other night. i was just worried for you and for your safety which is why i tried to find you in the club before you ran away. but i can see now that i did not need to be because you are much more mature than any seventeen year old i've ever met, myself included." olga chuckled as she took another sip of coffee, a small smile curling onto your lips.

"but next time you want to go out with your friends to one of my events you come to me about it first, sí?" olga's tone became a little more serious as you quickly nodded in agreement.

"buena. or else i will have to stick pictures of your face behind the bar with a do not serve sticker across your forehead!" the older girl grinned teasingly which you returned, tension sucked away now as you visibly relaxed.

"so, estamos bien?" you checked in as you both grabbed the menu's to look at ordering some food. "sí pequeña, more than okay. but breakfast is on you since this is an apology!" olga winked making you laugh and agree with a nod, the two of you falling quickly into a different conversation.

alexia looked up from her phone as the front door opened, smiling at her girlfriend who stepped through and hung her keys on the hook, the spanish captain standing quickly to greet her.

"hola mi amor." olga laughed against alexia's lips which were quickly pressed to hers in a series of soft kisses, breaking apart and heading for the kitchen as alexia took her seat back at the counter.

"how was your meeting?" alexia questioned, ready to leave for training in an hour or so. "was not a meeting." olga shook her head, opening the fridge intending to make a list of what was needed so she could go shopping while alexia was training.

"i met your sister for breakfast, she called and asked me while you were in the shower this morning." olga explained, nails tapping away at her phone screen noting down what needed to be bought.

"so alba can see you but not reply to me? i have called her three times this morning!" alexia groaned in annoyance with a roll of her eyes, pulling out her phone intending to give her younger sister a piece of her mind.

"no amor, not alba." olga's hand gently pushed the phone down as alexia frowned. "oh. you saw fresa?" alexia's eyebrows shot up in surprise as olga hummed with a nod of confirmation.

"she called to ask you out to breakfast." alexia echoed as again olga nodded. "sí, she wanted to apologise for the other night." olga started gently, knowing the last few days had been a large wake up call both for alexia and alba who had been in near constant contact trying to work out how to fix things.

"really?" alexia asked in disbelief. "really. ale sometimes i forget she is only seventeen, she has a very good head on her shoulders. she even paid for breakfast too." olga smiled as alexia sat there stunned, drumming her fingers on the counter clearly lost for words.

"you called to invite her over for dinner this week?" olga asked softly capturing her attention again, rounding the corner and slotting herself in between the taller girls legs.

"i tried but she will not answer alba or i, both our texts or calls she just blanks them." alexia sighed as olgas arms draped over her shoulders, nails scratching lightly at the base of her neck relaxing her a little as alexia's own hands settled on her girlfriends hips.

"can you blame her cariño? when is the last time you called her just to talk to her?" olga spoke carefully, alexia looking as though she might argue before she deflated. "i cannot remember." the blonde muttered, shame obvious in her features as she looked away.

"how did i miss this? how did i mess this up so badly? she hates me olga and i cannot even fault her for it!" alexia laughed bitterly, the brunette wincing in sympathy.

"she does not hate you mi vida, venga." olga grasped her lovers hand, pulling her off the stool and leading her over to the sofa, sitting down and gently tugging the taller girl to lean into her side, hugging her tightly.

"she should after what i said the other night." alexia admitted after a few moments of silence had passed, pulling away slightly as olga gave her a curious look and alexia sighed, not having been completely honest with her about everything.

"i was so angry with her and the fact she did not seem care about what could have happened. but i was just so scared, what if someone spiked her drink? took advantage of her? hurt her? anything could have happened that night and i have been so absent i would not have even known. something could have already happened and i would not know!" alexia exhaled shakily, olga tracing a thumb over her knuckles.

"but what did you say to her amor." olga pushed gently, alexia avoiding her eyes as she paused for a moment. "i told her she was a careless, stupid, selfish little accident." alexia admitted quietly, olgas hands immediately withdrawing from hers as she recoiled in shock.

"alexia." the brunette managed out in disbelief. "i know. i know, it was horrible and cruel and i knew it would hurt her. i was so angry and scared i lashed out at her." alexia recounted, the memory burned into her mind like a branding, the blonde had been replaying it over and over for the last few days.

"you have not spoken to her since? apologized?" olga frowned as alexia shook her head. "no, alba and i have both tried but she just does not answer." alexia dragged her hands down her face, cheeks burning with shame that she once had the nerve to call herself your protector.

"she used to be this tiny perfect little baby, i remember the day she was born alba and i were so excited. when mami told us she and papi would be having another baby we were always happy, always supportive. mami was so worried we would resent her because there would be such an age gap, making us promise we would never." alexia started, voice hoarse and raspy as she avoided the burning gaze of her lover sat beside her.

"but from the very moment i laid eyes on her i promised i would never let anything hurt her, i would spend my life looking after her and making sure she knew she was so loved. she was so small when i first held her, our abuela knitted her this little blue blanket and beanie and my pinky didn't even fit in her tiny hand. she had rosy cheeks and bright eyes and she was perfect, our little bundle of joy." alexia recounted fondly, olga shuffling a little closer and placing a hand on her knee.

"our papi used to joke that she was born with a personal security team. the first few months she was home alba and i would argue over who got to hold her, help with feeding, dress her. at night we would drag our pillows in and sleep on the floor by her crib, we used to talk to her for hours and she would just giggle at everything." alexia smiled looking off into the distance with a forlorn gaze.

"then as she grew up and got a little older she could be so annoying. always following alba or i around wanting to do whatever we did, always wanting to be around us and just like us, copying anything we did, stealing our clothes to wear too. but i used to get her to mimic whatever alba said for hours and hours, she hated it but fresa always did whatever i asked." alexia chuckled at the memory, a small smile tugging at her lips before it slowly faded.

"but the way she looked at me the other night, like i was just a stranger in her home who she didn't even know. where is my little pequeña with strawberry stains all over her shirt who looked at me like i was the center of her universe? our fresa." alexia managed to whisper out as olga winced.

"mi amor, she grew up." the brunette spoke softly as alexia nodded. "sí. i took my eyes off her for a second and now she is all grown up, and i have failed her as a sister." alexia muttered bitterly, angry now at herself and how she had been so selfish and blind to everything.

"then fix this alexia. make things right with her before she grows up anymore and it is too late."

you'd not heard them arrive as you were in the shower getting ready to hang out with your friends, eli surprised to see both her other daughters at her front door when she opened it.

"hola mami. can we come in?" alexia started, both girls having been far too ashamed of their behavior to reach out much this week as eli nodded and moved aside, both her girls kissing her cheek hello.

"is fresa here?" alba asked hopefully as they both took a seat at the island, eli returning to the kitchen to keep making dinner. "sí, she is in the shower." eli nodded, turning around to stir the rice boiling in the pot as alexia and alba shared a look.

"so you have both thought about what we spoke of?" eli asked without turning back around, glancing over her shoulder her eldest two nodded. "we have and we want to fix things. we really really want to fix things with her mami, thats our baby." alexia spoke for the two of them as eli turned around with a small smile.

"i told you both, she is not a baby anymore." eli cautioned gently, scraping the vegetables off her chopping board and into the pot. "she will always be a baby, our baby. but we know she has grown up mami, and we want to be there to watch her continue to." alba spoke now as eli hummed.

"so you are both going to make an effort then? and because you want to, not because you feel you have to?" eli clarified as her daughters nodded in promise.

"we don't know how we let it get so bad mami, we thought she was just...spending time with her friends, that she didn't need us around as much." alexia admitted guiltily as eli only hummed.

though before another word could be said footsteps were heard and your eyes widened as you stepped into the living room and suddenly there was 3 pairs of eyes trained on you.

"hola hermanita." alexia spoke first, tone soft and as she smiled your hackles went up, sure that this had to be some sort of trap. "hola." you replied back curtly, tearing your eyes away and edging around the room.

"i'll be home later mami." you smiled grabbing your house keys as your hand hovered on the door handle. "wait hija!" eli called out as you raised an eyebrow.

"can you stay for dinner? meet your friends after, i made your favorite." eli offered, though her tone conveyed that this was still your decision, not wanting to push you into anything as you tried to ignore your sisters eyes boring into the side of your head.

"vale, i will message them now." you agreed with a small smile, hurrying back to your room before anyone could say another word. as alba went to stand and go after you eli sent her a look which said it all, they needed to let you come to them.

"nena! dinner is done." eli called out to you a few moments later as alba set the table and alexia helped dish up. "i can go get her?" the eldest putellas offered when everything was ready and you'd still not ventured out of your room.

eli nodded and alexia set off, pausing outside your door with a hand raised, pausing for a moment before knocking gently, stepping back suddenly as it swung open.

"dinner's ready fresa." alexia smiled as you only nodded curtly. "don't call me that." you replied quietly, shuffling past her and heading for the living room as alexia frowned and deflated at your words.

"why not?" alexia followed after you though if you heard her you made no move to acknowledge it, alba patting the chair next to her with a hopeful smile as you ignored the offer and sat down next to eli.

alexia knew she should drop it, try not to push and let you come to her but as you all sat down to eat she couldn't help it. "why can't i call you fresa?" you paused at the question before rolling your eyes.

"because i'm not a baby anymore, its a stupid nickname." you mumbled before shoveling a forkful of food into your mouth, eli sending alexia a sharp stare warning her to drop the topic as she started to argue your answer.

an awkward silence fell around the table as you shifted uncomfortably, well aware of the four eyes boring into you across the table as you stared down at your food and tried to pretend it was like any other night and they weren't there.

but given the set table and change to your regular routine, it was hard to ignore completely.

growing up you'd always had a strict family rule about eating all together and always at the table, no exceptions. though as the years passed and suddenly it was just you and eli she had softened, the two of you often sitting together on the lounge eating dinner and watching some sort of spanish soap most nights.

"so, how is work going?" you heard alba ask and assumed the question was directed at your mami, zoning out a little until you felt a gentle nudge to your shoulder and looked up, blushing when you realized your sister was actually asking you.

"its fine." you shrugged quietly, a pause following as everyone waited for you to elaborate. when you didn't eli decided to step in, taking the slightest amount of pity on the obvious struggle your sisters had to try and mend things.

"she can now test and take the blood, she is thinking about going to medical school." eli spoke proudly as you glanced at her with a small smile and your sisters eyes widened in surprise.

"to become a doctor?" alexia asked quite stunned as you scoffed. "no to become a firefighter." you rolled your eyes again as alba snickered quietly, wincing as alexia stomped on her foot and shot her a glare.

"to become a nurse." eli corrected as you nodded. "what about tennis, do you have a competition coming up?" alba asked as you gave her a strange look. "i don't play anymore" you reminded as she frowned.

"how is mariona?" alexia asked next, referencing your childhood best friend, someone you were no longer friends with. "how would i know?" you shrugged still looking down at the table in front of you and starting to eat a little faster, uncomfortable with all this sudden attention and interest.

"well she is your best friend, no?" alexia questioned in confusion. "no she's not." you mumbled shifting a little as eli caught her daughters eye and subtly shook her head, urging her away from the topic as alexia frowned but dropped it none the less.

"i didn't think you liked peppers pequeña, used to fight and kick and spit them out." alba chuckled quickly changing subjects as you continued to eat. "almost like when people grow up their tastes change, crazy!" you muttered sarcastically as your sisters grin fell away.

"what about art? are you still taking classes?" alexia swooped in next as you raced to finish your food and eli watched on at the trainwreck this dinner was fast becoming. "don't do that anymore." you answered quietly among mouthfuls.

"why? you were so good fresa." alba frowned as there was a clatter as you dropped your fork into your now empty bowl. "don't call me that. i'm not your fresa, or your pequeña, or your hermanita or your chiqui. i'm not a baby anymore!" you warned with a huff, grabbing your empty bowl and standing.

"can i go now please mami? my friends are here." you asked eli in a much calmer tone who nodded as you darted to the kitchen, rinsing out your bowl.

"i'll be back late, don't wait up." you ducked down to kiss eli's cheek and made a beeline for the door, grabbing your keys. "what you don't say goodbye to us anymore?" alexia spoke up as alba elbowed her with a glare.

"oh no i forgot alexia. it must have been an accident!" you bit back, clearly intending your words to mean something else, enjoying the way your eldest sisters face paled.

"hermana i really need to-" but alexia couldn't finish her sentence before the door was closing and you were gone. "nice one ale." alba mumbled with a shake of her head, grabbing her and eli's bowls.

"don't wait up, how late does she normally get back mami?" alexia asked with a frown, ignoring her younger sister who was washing up their dishes.

"whenever. she has never been dishonest with me about her plans, i trust her and she is responsible, more than either of you two were at her age." eli pointed out as both girls scoffed. "mami!"

"so she just comes home in the middle of the night and you say nothing? she's seventeen!" alexia scoffed with a roll of her eyes.

"like i said alexia, i trust her. she might be seventeen but she has had to grow up a lot faster than most girls her age trying to keep up with the two of you." eli warned softly as alexia fell quiet. "those are her friends?" alba asked, watching out the window as you walked up to a car and two girls got out.

alexia was up and by her side in an instant, both your sisters watching you hug the two older girls before getting into the car and taking off. "they are too old for her to be hanging out with. what about all of her other friends from school? mariona? natalia?" alba questioned with a frown.

"like i said hija, your sister has grown up a lot faster than other teenagers. as for mariona, you will never mention her name in this house or around your hermana again. sí?" eli spoke firmly as both girls frowned.

"why? mami what happened?" alexia questioned as the older woman sighed, both girls taking their seats at the table across from her again. "when your sister left school, she drifted from her friends. nothing bad, but she worked and had different interests and schedule availability than they did. but mariona did not take it well." eli started to explain.

"she invited fresa to a party saying she missed her and wanted to reconnect, i dropped her there and everything seemed fine. your sister called me a few hours later and she was very upset, i picked her up and she wouldn't tell me what happened at first." eli sighed with a shake of her head.

"what happened mami?" alba asked quietly.

"your sister was seeing someone, only for a little while but she liked her a lot, it was her first girlfriend. mariona and this girl told her at the party in front of everyone it was all a bet to embarass her, the girl said she never liked her, everyone laughed at her and she left." eli finished with another deep sigh.

"they grew up together, they were best friends. how could she do that?" alba asked in disbelief as alexia sat beside her seething. "why does a sixteen year old girl do anything nena? teenagers can be cruel." eli smiled sadly as alba hummed.

"i will kill her." alexia stated with a determined nod, rising to her feet as eli scoffed. "you will do no such thing and you will not mention a word of this to your sister! sit down and promise me alexia." eli warned sternly as the blonde locked eyes with her, eli raising an eyebrow daring her to argue.

"prometo." alexia mumbled, sinking back down into her seat. "why didn't she tell us? she used to tell us everything." alba spoke up now as alexia sat back with her arms crossed and a stormy look on her face.

"she did, and then you both stepped away and fresa had to find other people to go to. those girls might be older but they are her friends, they were there for your hermana through all of that. they have looked after her and helped her in the ways i would have expected you both to, they are good girls and good friends to fresa." eli's tone was swift as again, needing to cut into both her daughters in front of her.

"but they aren't her sisters mami, we are. she's supposed to come to us, so we can protect her and look after her." alexia grumbled, still with a face like thunder, a slight jealousy brewing in her eyes.

"sí, but you have not done either of those things lately alexia and if you want to fix this then you need to admit that to yourself and own it. your sister had to find other ways to protect herself and other people to care about her when she felt like both of you stopped." eli raised her voice slightly now as alba shrunk into her seat wracked with guilt and alexia's hardened gaze fell to the ground.

"she tried to come to you and i watched her be hurt and dismissed by both of you and i will always regret not stepping in sooner. but i am stepping in now and if you both do not want to lose her forever, make the effort, do the work and fix this."

you waved goodbye to your friends as you arrived to the front door, rummaging around in your hoodie pocket for your keys, shoving them into the lock and stepping inside as your friends peeled off having waited until you got inside safely.

when you heard the tv you shook your head with a smile, closing and locking the door behind you as your keys dropped into the bowl with a clink.

"mami i told you not to wait u-" you fell silent as you rounded the corner and realised it was in fact not your mami sat awake, but rather both of your older sisters were staring back at you, a movie playing in front of them which neither seemed to be paying much attention to.

"oh, you're not mami." you mumbled, giving them a suspicious once over. but before you could even blink suddenly two taller bodies were pressed against you and you tensed at the unwanted and unexpected contact.

"qué es esto?" you asked, arms pinned down to your sides as your sisters clearly attempted to force you into some sort of group hug. "get off!" you huffed, trying to push them off or wiggle away to no avail.

"just hug us." alba demanded as you rolled your eyes and managed to shove her away, darting out of alexia's reach as she grabbed for you next. "you are both so weird." you grunted out with a scowl, hovering in the hallway.

"why are you still here anyway? do you not have your own homes to go to." you rolled your eyes once you had, shoving your hands into the pocket of your hoodie.

"you know at one point we used to live here, it was our home too fresa." alba spoke up first with an amused smile which only soured your mood. "yeah used to." you mumbled under your breath.

"and i told you both to stop calling me that." you spoke up louder now with a small huff. "since its miraculously your home again you can both show yourselves out then." you rolled your eyes yet again and turned to head off to your own room.

"fres-no wait, por favor." alexia called out as you stopped, shoulders dropping as again you looked toward them. "we waited up and thought you might want to watch a movie? we could stay over and all hang out." alexia asked perking up hopefully as alba nodded in agreement and sent you a smile.

"why would i want to to do that?" you replied bluntly, raising an eyebrow as you looked coldly back to both of them. "pequeña we know we have not been around or been there for you like we should have been lately, we want to fix that." alba started gently as your eyebrows furrowed.

"oh sí? you do?" you perked up as if interested as both of your sisters both brightened. "well i don't, i told you both the other night. stay out of my life!" your fake enthusiasm dropped as your eyes narrowed into a glare.

"hermanita por favor we-" alba again continued as you scoffed and shook your head, taking a step forward and cutting her off. "i am not your fresca or your chiqui or your pequeña or your hermanita. i am not a little kid anymore, the two of you made sure of that." you spoke so coldly it was near unrecognisable.

"what is that supposed to mean?" alexia frowned as you barked out a laughter which was anything but humerous. "i think you know exactly what it means. i am not stupid, i am smarter than both of you and i do not need your pity or your guilt now your heads are out of your asses!" you snapped, fists balled by your side.

"your friends cannot replace us even if you try nena, we are your sisters by blood. you will not succeed in pushing us away." alexia spoke holding her head a little higher as you snickered in disbelief.

"oh i am pushing you away am i ale? i am pushing you? would you like me to push you alexia?" you stepped forward and shoved at her chest, the towering girl barely moving as her hands grabbed yours.

"get off!" you hissed trying to pull your hands free. "no. i love you and i will fix this, we both will." alexia's voice wavered for just a moment as you fought her to let you go as she just attempted to bring you into a hug.

"quítate de encima!" you yelled now, your chest growing tighter with anxiety and feeling like a cornered animal as your sisters strong arms refused to let you go. "alexia." alba warned quietly, catching her eye as alexia shook her head.

"no! i love you. i love you vale? i am so sorry for not showing it and making you feel like i did not fresa. i love you mi hermanita!" alexia let go of your hands and grabbed at your face, forcing your eyes to lock with hers.

with a broken grunt you wrenched them away and shoved her again, catching her off guard as she stumbled backward and grabbed the corner of the counter to stop from falling over.

"hey hey, take a breath chiqui por favor, lets all just calm down." alba tried to coo at you, stepping closer as you instantly recoiled and shook your head. "why won't you listen!" you yelled at her now, chest heaving to try and force back the sob which wanted to rip free from it.

"i am not a baby anymore. you want to fix things? you love me? you miss me and suddenly want to hang out with me? ask me questions about my life? as if you suddenly care?" you could only whisper out now as hot tears began to pool at the corner of your eyes and you angrily wiped them away with the back of your hand.

"hija." your head whipped sideways to see eli stood a few feet away with a concerned gaze as you wordlessly shook your head. "no. no! no. vete a la mierda!" you spat venomously at the two older girls and took another step back still shaking your head.

"you both have no idea what it is like to go from having a home filled with laughter and love and noise to nothing. one day we were all living here and it was happy and i was happy and you both cared about me. we ate dinner together, we went to watch barca, we would stay up late watching movies and go for drives. but then the next suddenly it was just me here, just me." you started, swallowing hard as your nails buried crescent shaped dents into your palms where your fists were tightly clenched by your side.

"I had to watch the two of you grow closer and closer, going on trips together, out for dinners, to concerts, eating meals at each others houses, to football games together when ale was injured, through a phone screen." you continued, everyone else stunned to silence at the outburst which eli had feared was a long time coming

"when i felt you both pulling away i tried reaching out. for months i tried calling, texting, i barely got one word replies or your voicemails. i posted photo after photo after photo of me hanging out with friends just so you might see and invite me to hang out with either one of you!" you confessed, again angrily wiping away a few stray tears.

"you don’t come over for family dinners anymore but you always seem to be eating at each others houses without me, you didn’t even notice I stopped coming to your stupid football games alexia, and you didn’t even notice we haven’t gone for breakfast in months when we used to go every single sunday alba, every one!" your voice raised again as you swallowed down a hard lump and continued.

"but why would you notice? i am just a-what was it ale? a stupid, selfish little accident." you growled as your sister rapidly shook her head.

"no no no mi pequeña por favor i did not mean it, no no no lo siento mucho i did not mean it, promesa." again your eldest sister surged forward to cup your face in her hands, heart breaking at how small and defeated you suddenly looked. "off!" you harshly pushed her away and shook your own head.

"you meant it, and you knew it would hurt me and thats why you said it. at least own that alexia, own it!" you yelled those final two words so hard your throat started to hurt, exhaling shakily.

"my entire life i have done nothing but look up to both of you. i have held you both on a pedestal for years and i wanted to be just like you. i looked at you like super heros por el amor de dios!" you laughed as a sob got caught and came out more like you were choking.

"but then you left me behind and suddenly i did not matter, my life did not interest you, i was not old enough or cool enough or whatever to gain any of your time or care anymore. you both left me here all by myself without a single word! you. left. me." you worked to choke out, fighting to catch your breath as your body shook.

"when you both left everything I did was to try and get you to want to spend time with me again. i played tennis so you might come and watch my games and be proud of me alexia, you never came. i did art so you might see and want to come to a class with me alba, you never did. i forced myself to grow up and try to seem like I was more than just your annoying little hermanita, so you might look at me like a friend and want to hang out sometimes." you shook your head, the tears now flowing freely and leaving a salty bitter taste in your mouth as you spoke.

"but none of it worked and I watched you two grow closer while i never felt further away. so my friends are older but they care about me, they want me around and they ask about my day and they invite me on trips and out for dinners and we go get lunch and we have sleepovers and watch movies and go to the beach and go for drives late at night singing to the radio." you listed off not even pausing to take a breath.

"all the things I used to crave the two of you wanting to do with me like we used to but you never did. so I filled that void, and i no longer care what either of you think. i grew up, by myself. i have my own life, my own support system of friends that love me and want to spend time with me. who know what i like and remember my interests and actually ask me about them because they care not because they suddenly feel what? guilt? hermana's there is no need. i had my time to be hurt, and let me tell you it hurt to watch the two of you leave me behind and ice me out when i did not even know why or what i did." you laughed again, a hauntingly broken noise which echoed around the otherwise dim and silent living room.

"so no. i do not want to watch a movie with you or be interrogated at dinner with a million questions of my life because neither of you can bother to call me or see me or care about what i am doing. i want you both to listen to me, know how much you hurt me, and just like you have been, i want you to leave. me. alone." your voice once again cracked on that final word as you spun around and all but sprinted to your room, slamming your door and sinking down against it with your head in your hands.

"i need you both to leave, now." eli spoke up quietly breaking the thick, uncomfortable and unbearable tension which had festered around the room, your sisters stunned to silence for once in their lives.

"mami-" alexia started, voice hoarse and croaky as eli shook her head and pointed to the door. "go." she ordered, refusing to meet either of their eyes which desperately bore toward her seeking any sort of comfort or solace, a gentle reminder that this would all be okay, that you could all work it out.

but they recieved nothing.

so with heads bowed and tears edging at the corners of their eyes they did as they were asked, eli only finally looking up once she heard the front door close and a car engine start, locking the door and hurrying to your room.

"oh mi preciosa." eli sighed, slowly opening your door and finding you curled into a ball on your bed, body wracked with sobs silenced into the pillow pressed against your face.

the moment you felt the bed dip you sat up and all but launched into her awaiting arms, breathing ragged and broken as you struggled to try and stop the tears which seemed to have burst like a dam.

eli's heart broke both at the sight of you and the realization of just how deep these new cracks ran within her daughters as she pressed soft kisses into your hairline and hugged you tightly.

"todo saldrá bien nena, te lo prometo."

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part three

#woso #woso community #woso x reader #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso blurbs #🍓☀️

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