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animehideout · 4 months

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LOVE IS THE MOST TWISTED CURSE OF THEM ALL

PART 3

Gojo Satoru X Fem! Reader

Check Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 4

a/n: sorry for taking too long to post part 3, it's because I post on Wattpad as well {for anyone's who's interested in Straykids x Reader ff check my Wattpad @narae_99 }

Warnings: Mature language.

♪Song suggestions♪ The weeknd - Trust Issues.

Words count: 1.4K

• Time skip •

You sat on the couch in the school's common room, watching everyone chatting together. Yuji didn't leave your side, he was talking nonstop, it made you really happy cuz someone is actually interested in having a conversation with you, since you spent you whole life outcasted and rejected, feeling like an outsider even within your own family. No one found interest in you, since you wasn't a sorcerer.

Gojo watched as you were having fun talking with now; your students. And of course he didn't like that, he was still pissed by the idea that from now on you'd be his colleague. Even though you didn't do anything wrong, and you equally hated the idea of your arranged marriage, he saw you as a burden thay he is forced to carry. All what was on his mind, from the moment you took your vows, is how to make your life a living hell.

Breaking your curse wouldn't come out of charges. He's been thinking of ways to humiliate you and make you feel small in front of everyone. It's like a punishment of you being his wife.

He slowly approached Mei Mei, making sure to inactivate his infinity, giving her the green light to grasp the chance she's always dreamt of and allow her to touch him even though he never let her or Utahime to physically get near him.

“So Mei Mei–why don't you move here and start teaching in Jujutsu High, it would be ravishing to see you everyday!” he said loud enough to get your attention and he did.

“Oh Gojo, I know I've always been pleasing to your eyes!”

“Yes indeed..”

She chuckled as she extended her hand, her long fingers running on his chest,

“I would definitely give it a thought..Satoru” she called him by his first time for the first time, in a flirtatious way.

Mei Mei is a smart woman, Gojo never bothered to look at her before, let alone flirt with her, so she figured out his real intentions right away, so she played along, to offend you, she never liked you anyway.

Mei Mei always craved Gojo's attention, and she's enjoying it now even if it's fake. Her hands couldn't leave his body as she flirted back... touching his broad shoulders, tracing his jawline with her fingers with as sly smirk.

She leaned closer to him, her lips touching his ear, as she whispered, “Want me to offend the shit out of her..Gojo?”

“Do your thing, and I'll deposit that money in your account” he simply answered.

They made sure you were watching. You swallowed hard, observing them as they continued their playful banter, it wasn't jealousy but you felt a mix or irritation and discomfort. Whether he liked it or not, he's your husband legally and in front of everyone, so the least he could do is respect you, at least while others are watching as well, and he can hate you as much as he wanted in private.

“Y/n-sensei!! are you okay?” asked Yuji in repeat,

but you didn't hear him untill he shook your shoulder gently. You were too focused on Gojo and Mei Mei.

“Hm? sorry?” you said waking up from your trance.

“Everything is fine sensei??”

“y-yeah I'm good–just um... I'll be right back”

You excused yourself from Yuji, Megumi and Maki to pour yourself a cup of water.

Both Gojo and Mei Mei started laughing loudly as you walked past them. The atmosphere was too insulting and unpleasant to stay still, especially that your students and even the principal Yaga noticed how your husband ignored you and shamelessly flirted with another woman, you felt embarrassed.

You walked to the school's kitchen to get a cup of water that might cool you down, away from them. You enjoyed the silence, but soon it was interrupted by Mei Mei,

“Oh you're here y/n”

You maintained your composure in front of her, taking a sip from your water.

“Yeah,..was kinda thirsty”

“Come on all of the boys left, we're left alone, all girlies!! come join us, this party was for you after all” she exclaimed, as she started dragging you with her.

“Nah I'm good, it's kinda late so I might just go home”

“Hah? go home to who? to an empty house? Gojo told me that both of you don't live in the same house!”

It's like getting slapped hard across the face! such thing should have been kept private, It's none of anyone's business to know if you're sleeping under the same roof as Gojo.

“He proved himself to be a jerk” you thought to yourself. You didn't know what to say, Gojo has already spilt everything out.

“LETS GO” she yelled, pulling you back to the common room with her. All the girls were there, Utahime , Nobara and Maki.

“our bride arrived, where have been hiding?” said Utahime.

You sat on the couch trying to find a comfortable position, your heart pounding with anxiety.

Out of nowhere Utahime spoke, “So y/n! tell us, is Gojo a good fuck??”

Your eyes widened in shock, first of all you don't have an answer for that since you obviously didn't have sex, second of all, it was too inappropriate to ask such thing.

You stuttered, as you were about to answer, “I- Um..”

But Mei Mei cut you off, swirling a strand of her hair between her fingers as she spoke, “Oh I'm sure he was, me and Gojo used to hook up a lot, and let me tell me, he's so damn good” she lied.

Air got caught up in your throat, clenching your fists, struggling to keep on a normal face not letting their provocations take the best of you.

“come on y/n don't be shy tell us!!” said Utahime insisting,

you forced a smile as you spoke politely , “excuse me but I don't think my personal life is up for discussion”

“but wh-”

“Dont push too hard Mei Mei, she's not comfortable to answer this, move on already geez” said Maki clearly pissed.

“Chill Maki, we just wanted to get to know each other on a personal level” said Utahime chuckling.

Maki rolled her eyes in annoyance, you wanted to say a lot of things or just punch them across the face, but it was useless, no matter how hard you try to defend yourself, thanks to Gojo everyone already discovered that your marriage is just on paper.

“Excuse me ladies, as you know tomorrow is my first day teaching so it's better if I rest at home” you said walking out,

“tch how boring” sighed Mei Mei.

Maki followed you “Sensei!! Y/n sensei!!”

“hm Maki?”

“Please ignore them, they feed on provoking others, so please don't focus too much on what they say” she reassured.

You smiled, softly patting her shoulder, “Thank you Maki, but don't worry I'm fine..really!”

•Time skip•

There he was standing in the school's garden, breathing the fresh air, enjoying the cold night breeze.

You were already frustrated and seeing him made it ten times worse. You rushed his way,

“The hell was that Satoru?” you yelled,

He turned around looking at you raising his eyebrow, he wasn't wearing his blindfold, “Ugh! you again, what do you want?”

“Don't you have any manners? casually speaking of private stuff, telling everyone that we don't live together and that our marriage is fake? Don't you know that some things should remain unspoken of, especially in front of strangers?”

He bursted into laugher, mockingly, “Oh the only stranger here is you y/n! now don't tell me you're jealous? Oh is it because I didn't fuck the shit out of that pussy of yours?”

“Hah, jealous?? you don't mean anything to me Satoru, and I'm not dying to have sex with you” you yelled back.

“Then why are you mad about it?”

“Stop spilling private shit out, especially if it includes me or my dignity” you threatened pointing your index finger at him.

He took a step closer to you, his giant frame sending shivers down your spine, eyes conveying threat and anger,

“A talentless, weak human like you can't tell me what to do, besides I didn't know you had any dignity. You're not-”

*SLAP*

You slapped him with all might and power in you. “FUCK YOU SATORU”.

He took it too far, humiliating you both with words and actions is something you would never accept. Even if you don't have any cursed techniques, you're still a human, who deserves to be treated with love and respect. He looked at you in disbelief, eyes widening, the sting of the slap reverberating through his senses. A moment of stunned silence followed, you glared at him one last time, then you left him standing there.

“I'll make you pay for this, y/n..” he promised.

Taglist 🫶🏻:

@hermitkerm @smolbeanzzz @eolivy @sanriosatoru @kiki17483 @khaleesihavilliard @ryumurin @bookswillfindyouaway @numblytemporary

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stirthewaters · 7 months

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Too Sharp to Touch pt.6

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: Language, Wednesday-level threats

Summary: Wednesday practically flips the school upside down during her search for her missing typewriter, and lo and behold look who comes to help her? None other than you.

Pairings: Wednesday x Reader

Too Sharp to Touch Masterlist

Wednesday was losing her mind.

And no, it was not as pleasant as she had imagined it would be.

It was missing. Gone. Almost as if it has never been there in the first place.

Her typewriter - her precious, prized typewriter - was missing.

The Addams was one who favored neatness and precision. Everything had its place and every place had its thing, ensuring that no time would be wasted and that there was no confusion in where something could be placed. If she needed something, it would be there. That was that, and that was the way that she liked it.

It was why Wednesday had a specific folder for her homework assignments, as well as one for her investigations, and another for story drabbles and ideas, all stashed carefully under her desk in their drawer where they could be easily accessed when needed.

So when the raven entered her shared dorm after a rather successful day of classes, pulling out her folder full of notes for her novel as she prepared to engage in her writing hour, when she spotted the lack of a typewriter beside her box of written pages, she was baffled. At first.

Without hesitation the first thing Wednesday did was meticulously search through every inch of Enid’s side of the dorm. The Addams hunted through every inch of pillows, nooks, crannies, and crawl space, though her attempts came to be in vain. She was unsurprised, albeit; she never truly believed that Enid would have taken it, even as maybe a prank, since the werewolf knew how much her typewriter meant to her, but everyone was a suspect when it came to things like this.

And so the mystery began.

Of course, Wednesday loved a good mystery; she found nothing better than discovering the culprit of a complicated and mysterious case, one that would take experienced detectives hours to crack; seeing the fate of the culprit as their punishment was carried out - it was a wonderful feeling. It filled her with a sense of satisfaction.

And wouldn’t you know, the very first person to offer their help was you. You were eager, that she was sure of. It was unnerving how quickly you volunteered to help her solve the case, this tiny grin on your face every time you asked her about what the latest thing was she’d uncovered, but you weren’t the focus of her attention.

As much as she hated to admit it, Wednesday knew that Nevermore was a big school and having a werewolf with a good sense of smell would be helpful in her case, so she reluctantly allowed you to assist her, convincing herself repeatedly that it was only because she wanted to humor you.

Even worse? You weren’t that bad. She already knew you weren’t incessantly cheerful like Enid was, but you behaved yourself better than she’d expected, especially for you. It was odd, to say the least, to see the change in your behavior. Other than that, you did add helpful points to the conversation, and one or two of your suggestions weren’t as irrelevant as she’d expected.

Although Wednesday knew for certain that her typewriter had not been carelessly misplaced, she decided it wasn’t the worst of ideas to check anywhere it could have been misplaced, despite her insistence on the fact that she would never do such a thing. How could one misplace a large, expensive, prized typewriter that was only used in her dorm and her dorm alone? Impossible.

And so, the raven became sure that her assumptions had been correct from the start; foul play was indeed the only cause of her sudden loss and without a doubt when she would uncover the culprit at hand she would make their life a living hell.

On her own the raven cut through her suspects list, starting with Bianca herself. Her week became festered with interviews as she took her time planning to take aside one of her friends (a term very loosely used), and question them mercilessly. Well - Bianca at least. The siren may have done her a favor or two a ways back but Wednesday was most certainly not one to allow mercy to anyone, especially under the circumstances. Unfortunately despite her flawless interrogation, the raven found Bianca empty handed. Ironic.

“What about Xavier?” That was your suggestion you offered when you approached her afterward, already peppering the raven with questions with that same small smile on your face that made her stomach twist.

“Xavier has no motive, Y/N, do you know anything about the pursuit of criminology?” Wednesday muttered, pulling the shoulder straps on her backpack tighter. “Use what’s left of your brain and actually think about possible suspects with valid intentions.”

Just as she expected you were already going for a kick to her shin, which she promptly dodged, continuing to walk down the hall while you surely sulked behind, most likely due to your failed attempt.

“I don’t have all day to play games and the gap is getting narrow.” Wednesday huffed, almost muttering to herself at this point as her fists clenched. “There’s an answer here.”

“What about Thing?”

Your voice broke her out of her thoughts as you jogged to catch up with her, walking alongside her as you spoke.

“He’s still pissed at you for giving him the silent treatment last week.” Your hands waved around excitedly as you talk, something that only very briefly distracted the raven.

“A punishment well deserved for an appendage who thinks it is appropriate behavior to provide useless information instead of helpful resources.” Wednesday’s eyebrows furrowed in slight annoyance as she recalled why she had refused the hand permission to assist her when she had performed her bloodstain analysis research on you in the woods a week prior. “He knows better than to hold grudges against an Addams.”

“He is an Addams, Wednesday.” The raven could practically hear you rolling your eyes as you spoke. “He’s part of your family but I wouldn’t put it past him to nab your typewriter to get revenge.”

“Couldn’t even think of the inevitable punishment he would receive,” Wednesday muttered with an eye roll of her own. “Ameuter. I’ll make sure he receives his consequences.”

The raven turned direction swiftly as she swerved from her original destination, already on track to Ophelia Hall as you caught up, the smile you had worn so frequently abruptly fading. Odd. She tried to focus on walking instead of your uncharacteristic silence. You were thinking. That she could tell.

“You’re going to like- hurt him? Right now?” You looked at her, your eyes searching hers. The raven kept her eyes ahead on the path, the students around her instinctively carving a path as she plowed through. “You can’t like- put him in timeout or something?”

Wednesday gave you a look of disgust as her lip curled into a grimace. “Y/N, suggest such a weak punishment like that again and I’ll make sure you understand an appropriate consequence.” She immediately shut down any nagging thoughts reminding her she’d never actually-

No. She needed to focus. This was not about you.

She veered the corner, before stopping in her tracks and spinning to face you with a glare. “Are you going to trail after me like a lost puppy or go make yourself of use?” Your face of insignace would be almost comical if she wasn’t so irritated with Thing. “Do as you please. I have business to attend to that will not require your inexperienced assistance.”

You huffed and folded your arms, grumbling something under your breath that the raven was almost positive was something contradicting her statement, but you nodded and turned, heading back down in the direction which you had come.

She threw open the door to her dorm, instantly spotting Thing on Enid’s bed with the blonde herself, discussing a nail care magazine the two were flipping through.

“That’s a good point, Thing, but this green might suit your complexion better,” the werewolf pointed to something on the glossy page, the hand tapping rapidly in response. “I absolutely am an expert at this, Thing, I know more about fashion than you.” A few more taps. “That’s vulgar coming from you.”

Wednesday stormed over to the bed, promptly yanking the magazine out from under Thing and handing it to the bewildered Enid, the appendage tumbling to the floor.

Before he could scuttle away the raven bent down and grabbed Thing in her hands, holding him up to her eye level as she glared at him with murderous intent. “Tell me where you put it or you’ll be receiving another scar to add to your collection.”

The appendage tapped rapidly on her hand, interrupted by Enid who stood and hurried over, laying a hand on Wednesday’s shoulder. “Willa….? What are you doing-?”

Wednesday’s fingers tightened around the hand as she met Enid’s worried expression, gesturing toward Thing with her head as she hissed, “my typewriter is missing and I wish to know why Thing took it.”

Enid paled slightly, which was confusing to the raven. “Don’t be sensitive, he’ll be receiving the attention that he clearly so desperately wants.”

Wednesday was already reaching into her pocket for her handy pocket blade that she carried on her at all times but was met with Enid’s hand on her wrist. She stiffened slightly and shot the blonde a glare, though she didn’t pull away. “Don’t interfere, Enid, I know what I’m doing.”

Yet, the werewolf didn’t move, eyes wide and face pale, mouth opening as if she wanted to say something before closing her mouth again as her gaze flitted from the hand and then back to her. “You said he took your typewriter?”

Wednesday nodded, pressing the tip of her knife to the crook of Thing’s thumb as she spoke in a dangerously low voice. “Start talking.” The hand responded with rapid and wild gestures, flailing in her hands as the raven’s fingers curled tighter around the appendage, pressing her knife firmly against his thumb, close enough to draw blood.

“Don’t play dumb, Thing, answer the question. Where. Is. The typewriter?” Wednesday hissed, applying a little more pressure as the hand squirmed, signing wildly. Her grip faltered just slightly at the hand’s pleas; although pathetic and shameful, especially for Thing - they seemed authentic, which caught her off-guard. Shaking off her thoughts, Wednesday pressed the knife back against Thing’s smooth palm.

“It wasn’t Thing-” Enid blurted out, and Wednesday paused, slowly turning her head to stare at the blonde, eyes narrowing slightly. “It wasn’t-” the blonde trailed off with a frustrated sigh, rubbing her neck in what appeared to be an anxious gesture. The raven slowly lowered the hand, already realizing that Enid wasn’t lying. With a reproachful expression she set Thing back down on the bedspread, ignoring the hand’s rapid tappings of indignance.

“Explain. Now.”

Wednesday stared at the Enid with a glare, not budging as she folded her arms and waited for the blonde to explain, exhaling sharply through her nose. The werewolf fidgeted around with a guilty expression before groaning,

“Look, I told her that it was a bad idea, but she didn’t listen-” the blonde pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration and guilt, looking back up at Wednesday after a moment as she continued. “And you’re not allowed to murder her, but-” Wednesday didn’t even register the rest of Enid’s sentence as the answer hit her like a stab in the abdomen. You. Of course it was you. Why else would you volunteer to help her when you could’ve been off doing your own thing? That small smile she had always seen on your face when you had offered your advice? Now the mischief and deceit made sense. The fact that you had paled when she’d mentioned getting her revenge on Thing for your crime? How could she have not put the pieces together?

Even more infuriating, your advice and ideas as well as what you had suggested for suspects and information - they had all seemed so valid. How could you of all people be so foolish and yet infuriatingly genius at once?

It was admirable.

No doubt about it, Wednesday was going to kill you.

—————

pt.7 here!

#wednesday addams #wednesday series #wednesday x reader #wednesday #wednesday 2022 #wednsday addams #jenna ortega #werewolf #werewolf x reader #nevermore academy #enid sinclair #emma myers #netflix wednesday #tstt #too sharp to touch

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flowerandblood · 7 months

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Glass Cuts Deepest (10)

[ professor! • Aemond x student! • female ]

[ warnings: kissing, panic attack, mention of rape, fluff, angst, indecent student-teacher relationship ]

[ description: A female painting student is finally able to choose the specialisation she has dreamt of - stained glass. She wants to become a student of the best specialist in this field, but he, for some reason, refuses to accept female students into his workshop. She finds out that he once slapped a female student of one of the other professors. Nevertheless, she makes an attempt to find out what happened then and to convince him to teach her. Slow burn, sexual tension, dark, agressive Aemond, great childhood traumas. ]

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Previous and next chapters: Masterlist

_____

He had never felt as calm and happy as he did that morning when he returned to his room − he couldn't get rid of the smile of pride and satisfaction at the thought that he had touched her, that he had brought her to orgasm with his very words, kisses and the touch of his hand.

He could still hear her surprised sobs of pleasure as fulfilment shook her body, as she sought refuge in his arms.

She was so polite and obedient, keeping her hands where he told her to, even though he knew it was difficult for her, she didn't touch him, allowing him to focus entirely on her and her pleasure.

He had never touched a woman of his own volition before her.

He wondered how it had come so easily, practically effortlessly, and realised that he had not associated this type of touch with Alys.

When she came to him then it wasn't him touching her, she was the one touching him, she was the one in control.

However, Wright then gave herself completely to him, allowing him to touch her as he wished, still clothed without making him feel threatened.

He realised that this could have been the solution to his problem, that maybe when he was the one in control of what was happening, his body wouldn't react with panic and bring up those awful memories.

When they went to the church to see how the installed stained glass windows looked like he felt a kind of pride, seeing how the golden background around the Mother of God with the child shimmered in the sunlight, giving a truly heavenly impression.

He couldn't look away from the face he had painted, simultaneously embarrassed and delighted by the sight, realising something, interjecting a word from the bishop who had just praised his student's project.

"In Christian iconography and theology, the Virgin Mary is supposed to be the personification of the New Eve, transformed from a woman who was tempted into a woman who contributed to human salvation. Her son, Christ, was instead to be the new Adam, which is why often in crucifixion paintings we see a skull under his feet on the ground that is meant to symbolise Adam's tomb, on which his cross grows like a tree." He said calmly, pretending that he just wanted to add some interesting information on the subject, but when he glanced at Wright he saw her lower her gaze quickly, trying to hide the smile of embarrassment and the redness of her cheeks.

He knew he was talking about her.

She was his Eve.

She was his salvation.

He had fallen in love with her.

"Indeed, the professor is right, Our Lady and Christ are the announcement of a new paradise, but also of the good news that the exile and wandering of mankind is over, that the gates of heaven have been opened to them again." Said the bishop in a light tone, acknowledging his point, snapping him out of his reverie with his next question.

"Who painted the face of that wondrous Mother of God that shines so luminously before us?"

He looked at him in surprise, feeling his heart pounding fast, and grunted quietly, not wanting to show his sudden nervousness.

"Me." He said indifferently and dryly, standing with his hands folded in front of him, and then he saw the priest's gaze quickly shift to his female student. He felt a tightening in his throat, knowing that he already knew.

Fuck.

Was Cregan guessing too, or was he just pretending not to see it?

How could he have been so stupid to let this happen?

He swallowed loudly, glancing at Wright and felt a cool sweat on the back of his neck noticing how she had gone pale, not a trace of her joy and contentment from a second ago.

She didn't look at him.

Not when they left, not when they drove back to the hotel, not when Cregan suggested they celebrate her success with dinner. He was willing to do it, he was proud of her, but she just said thank you, smiling sadly, and said she was tired and would go to her room now.

She was heartbroken and it was his fault.

As soon as he had showered and changed he was immediately outside her balcony door, knocking on her window, devastated at the thought that she might not want to see him anymore, that he had screwed things up so badly.

He was relieved when he heard movement on the other side, and then the door opened. He saw the look on her face, sadness, tiredness and resignation, and felt a tightness in his throat. He closed the door behind him, looking at her, all tense.

"What's going on?" He asked immediately, feeling like his heart was about to jump out of his chest, his breathing uneven and accelerated.

He felt even worse when he saw that she looked away and pressed her lips together, clearly feeling uncomfortable that she wanted to tell him something that might hurt him.

"He knows. He knows it was my face you gave to your Virgin Mary." She muttered in despair and took a step back as he moved towards her. She didn't move away when he grabbed the nape of her neck and pressed his forehead against hers, shushing her silently as he traced the skin of her warm cheek with the fingers of his other hand.

"− shhh −" He whispered, hearing her accelerated breathing, seeing her look on the verge of crying, feeling painfully remorseful that he had put them at risk himself.

He didn't know then what would happen, didn't know he could ever have her.

"− it won't work − someone will catch us − we won't hide −" She whispered in a breaking voice, tear after tear running down her cheek.

He felt a sting in his heart at the thought that she was terrified, that she had realised what a threat this was if someone caught them. He pressed his lips together, knowing that he was the one who had the least to lose, that he was finished anyway, that he wanted to leave anyway, but she was going to study there for three more years.

He didn't want anyone to think that she owed her place and victory in the competition to the fact that she was warming his bed.

Helpless, he hushed her once more, drawing her to him, embracing her with his arms and cuddling her into his chest. She clung to him immediately, placing her hands on his t-shirt just as he had shown her the day before, hugging her cheek to his torso, breathing raggedly through her cry.

"Just tell me if you want to try." He whispered, stroking her hair and back in a calm, slow motion. He felt her freeze, her breathing sped up − she herself no longer knew what she wanted and the thought was breaking his heart.

"I'm scared." She whispered in a trembling voice. He grasped her cheeks gently in his hand and lifted her face to look at him.

"I'm scared too, but that's not what I asked you." He said calmly, looking at her tenderly.

He was scared too.

He had been scared all his life.

But he wanted to try.

He could see that she didn't know what to say, that she was heartbroken and terrified, that she needed comfort and reassurance that he wouldn't leave her, that he wouldn't expose her to mockery and gossip, that he would protect and care for her, that he wouldn't treat her like a pretty toy that he would abandon as soon as he got bored.

He felt that he had to explain to her how he felt about her, that he had to somehow put into words why it was all so important to him, why she was precious to him, why he needed her so much.

"I don't know if you believe in God, but I do. Despite what has happened to me, I believe in him and that he is merciful. I also believe that he put you in my path, that he made me choose you because you are his gift, that he knows neither of us wants to do anything bad. I have never had the opportunity to care or look after anyone before in my life, but I want to do so for you. My sketches, your face that I painted, was an expression of my desperation and suffering, but this is the last time I let anyone see what I feel for you. This is the last time I put you in danger." He whispered in a trembling voice, tucking an unruly strand of her hair behind her ear in a tender, soft gesture, literally letting out his thoughts, his feelings.

Despite what had happened to him, he was a person of faith, attending church and praying.

His faith was instilled in him by his mother, taking him to church with her every Sunday. Aegon and Helaena did not want to go there, but he did. At first, it was because he had her all to himself then, that it was their time, that he was then her only child to whom she gave her attention.

But then he began to find some kind of relief in this, in the thought that his suffering was not worthless, that it had some meaning, that he may not have had a good father on earth, but he had one in heaven.

Seeing his suffering and loneliness, he sent him, like to Adam in Eden, his Eve, so that he would no longer be lonely, and with her he sent him that wonderful feeling that had to come from him, because it was too beautiful, too warm, too good.

He saw her draw in the air loudly at his words, her gaze warm and tender, filled with pain and affection at the same time, from which he felt tears under his eyelids.

"Please, protect me." She mumbled at last, and he sighed loudly in relief and smiled tenderly, stroking her cheeks.

"I'll. I promise." He whispered, feeling heat filling his heart at the thought that she trusted him, that she believed he was capable of it, that his feelings for her were sincere.

They leaned towards each other tentatively and then their lips came together in a hot, wet kiss that made his head spin, her scent and taste filling all his senses making him feel throbbing in his sweatpants again.

After what had happened the day before, he felt more confident.

He thought he wanted to do it.

"− do you want to finish what we started yesterday? −" He asked quietly and she nodded, smiling so sweetly, so innocently, that he felt like devouring her.

They kissed again, deeper and more passionately, and then he took her hand in his, leading her slowly towards her bed, sitting down on it, looking up at her from below.

She stood before him, beautiful and warm, just his, and he had all night to explore her body.

He bit his lower lip feeling the painfully pleasurable pulsing of his manhood again, pleased with how automatically his body responded to her closeness.

"Can I stroke your cheek?" She asked uncertainly and he swallowed loudly, looking at her surprised.

You are such a pretty boy, Aemond.

He wasn't sure if he wanted it or not, but he thought it was just a touch on the cheek, no big deal − he knew how warm and soft her hands were and he decided he wanted to feel her.

So he nodded and swallowed loudly, closing his eyes, pressing his lips together because as soon as he felt her touch, he saw her, pulling off her nightshirt, a shapely, ripe body that might as well have belonged to his mother.

He saw her large breasts, her wide hips, her womb.

Why are you so tense?

"Are you okay?" He heard another soft, warm voice and nodded, figuring he could stand it, that she wasn't doing anything wrong after all, that she was just touching his fucking cheek.

But instead of her hand, he felt her hand, her hand stroking him as she rode him, as her body fell against his manhood with a loud, sickening click, and she panted in delight.

Look, see?

You wouldn't be so hard if you didn't want it.

It's okay, sweetheart.

He felt tears under his eyelids, pressed his lips together and shook his head, grabbing her wrist.

"− no − I − I'm not − I'm sorry −" He mumbled out brokenly and felt her pull away from him immediately, but he was no longer there, with her − he was in his hotel room there, during their family trip to the seaside, he was alone in his bed when she came to him and refused to leave his mind, his heart, his body.

It wasn't better at all.

Nothing was better.

Nothing had changed.

He couldn't not think about it.

He burst out sobbing, heartbroken by this discovery, by the realisation that he could only touch but not be touched, that the physical tenderness of the girl he adored was unwanted to him, made him uncomfortable, made him want to run away. He couldn't cope with that thought, that terrifying realisation that this would probably never change.

That forever again the touch of her hand on his bare cheek, his arms or his torso would remind him of her.

That he would never let her touch him down there because it would remind him of her.

That he might not even be able to look at her beautiful, gorgeous naked body because it would remind him of her.

He wanted to die.

"− I'm begging you, don't apologise − I'm the one who's sorry − so much has happened, I shouldn't have asked for this − forgive me, I didn't mean to hurt you −" Her terrified, distraught voice roused him from his lethargy. He chuckled despairingly under his breath, revealing his face to her, shaking his head.

"− hurt me? − you can't even touch me − fuck! −" He growled in despair through his tears, running his hand over his face, feeling his whole stomach clench, his body quivering, knowing it was a panic attack again and that she had just witnessed it, that after what she had seen she would understand what she was dealing with, how fucked up he was.

She couldn't even touch his fucking cheek because he was starting to shake and cry.

How were they going to have a normal relationship?

How could he make her persist in something like this, feeling perpetually rejected and unwanted?

He thought it was all her fault, that stupid whore − he felt anger and hatred, words began to fly out of his mouth on their own, the things he had never told anyone about gushed out of him like the poison that had bubbled up inside him all these years.

"− that whore − then when she came to me − she touched me, she fucking touched me everywhere − my cheeks, my shoulders, my chest, my stomach, my −" He couldn't finish, gasping for air, his voice breaking through the fact that he was crying and couldn't breathe, looking at her, seeing her terrified, hot gaze full of concern and understanding.

She was listening to him, she was beside him, kneeling on the ground beside him like Mary Magdalene beside Christ, not daring to touch him.

He drew in a loud breath and raised his hand, as if he wanted to explain something to her, to point out the source of the whole problem.

"− she touched me everywhere − e v e r y w h e r e − as if she wanted to contaminate my body − to make sure that no one would ever touch me after her again −" He muttered in a breaking, angry, embittered voice, running his hands through his hair, only now understanding what she had done to him, how much she had deconstructed him as a person.

For years he had told himself that he simply hated women and didn't need them, that he was capable of satisfying all his needs himself, but now he realised that this wasn't true, that he was protecting himself this way from disappointment, that subconsciously he knew he wouldn't be able to bear the touch of anyone else.

He saw her cover her mouth with her hand, crying as he did, her eyebrows arched in anguish, in disbelief, the pain in her eyes from which his own heart squeezed.

"− she destroyed me as a man − as a boy − you were right − it doesn't make sense − you don't deserve this, you will only face rejection from me −" He muttered, burying his face in his hands again, heartbroken at the thought that he hadn't been able to give her what she needed, that he would never change, that he would never be normal again, that what had happened to him couldn't be fixed.

He felt worse and worse, he felt the contents of his breakfast in his throat, his heart was pounding so hard he felt like he was about to die, he was shivering all over, cold sweat running down his back.

"− you said you would never touch a woman before me, and yet you've been sleeping in the same bed with me for the past two nights − you've been holding my hand and kissing me − you demand too much of yourself and you think I demand the same, but that's not true − I just want you to be there for me −" She said in a quick, breaking, soft voice from which he felt warmth in his chest − he drew in air loudly, clinging to her words, wanting to believe her, wanting to hope.

And then he felt a contraction in his stomach.

He knew what it meant.

His body had always reacted the same way since that evening.

"− I − I − I think I'm about to throw up −" He mumbled and heard her pick herself up quickly, running somewhere, taking a moment to hand him the vase.

He just managed to turn away from her, not wanting him to look at it, and threw up, trembling all over, breathing loudly, embarrassed, humiliated, weak and distraught, feeling that he had just shown her his worst side, the one he was most ashamed of.

He thought that after something like this she would never want him again.

That she would only be with him out of compassion.

"− I'll stay with you − I'll take my duvet, we'll go to your room and I'll lie down on the armchair next to you − I'll be with you, okay? −" She whispered in a trembling voice, and he felt a tightening in his heart at the thought that his guess had come true, that she felt sorry for him, that she would now feel responsible for him like a mother for her child rather than a woman for her man.

Still, he needed her like he had never needed anyone else in his life, so he nodded.

He rinsed his mouth and the vase in her bathroom, not even looking at his reflection in the mirror out of shame, unable to believe that he had got a panic attack because she had touched his cheek.

He left her room without a word.

He only checked that they had both closed the door behind them and lay down on his bed, feeling completely lifeless, weak and resigned.

Empty.

He saw her sprawled in an armchair near his bed covering herself with a duvet and thought it was pathetic that he, as a man, was supposed to sleep here and she was supposed to lie there in discomfort and watch him as if he were six years old.

He stood up abruptly, frustrated by this thought, walking over to her.

"− you'll be uncomfortable there − lie on the bed, I'll sleep in the armchair −" He said indifferently, but she furrowed her brow and shook her head, covering herself more tightly.

"− no −" She said in a tone that he knew wouldn't convince her, and he no longer had the strength to argue with her.

"− come to bed −" He whispered resignedly, going back and laying down on the bedding. He heard her objection caused by fear that she would make him uncomfortable again, but he interrupted her in mid-sentence by saying that he wanted her close to him.

After a moment, she stood up uncertainly, circling his bed, and he felt the mattress bend under the weight of her body, which lay somewhere far away from him.

He swallowed loudly, feeling shame and sadness, thinking about how he would never be a man again in her eyes, how pathetic he was. He felt tears under his eyelids again and cried like a small child, clenching his lips, not letting any sound leave his throat. He swallowed loudly, drawing in air deeply.

"− will you stroke my head? −" He asked in a breaking voice, remembering that when he was a little boy and was afraid of darkness, his mother would come to him and stroke his head until he fell asleep.

"− I don't want to hurt you again −" She whispered uncertainly, and he felt a tightening in his heart at the thought that she clearly resented herself for wanting to touch him, as if touching his cheek would be some perverted crime.

He squeezed his eyes shut, swallowing loudly, feeling his body tremble, having the feeling that he was cold.

"− please −"

He heard her shift, moving closer but so that her body wasn't touching his, and after a moment he felt her tiny fingers comb through his hair in a soft, calm motion. He felt a pleasant shudder, some kind of reassurance at that familiar, longed-for touch that combined his pleasant memory with her scent and touch.

He heard her want to say something, sensitive to any movement of his, but he didn't let her.

"− don't stop −"

So she continued stroking him, with an unhurried, tender movement of her hand trailing over his head, playing with his short hair making him finally start to calm down, his heart no longer pounding so fast, his breathing no longer so loud.

"− I will watch over you all night − no one will come in here − no one will touch you − you are safe − try to sleep −" She whispered tenderly with a certainty that surprised him − he felt a sudden tightness in his throat, one solitary tear ran down his cheek at her words.

No one will come in here.

No one will touch you.

You are safe.

He hadn't even realised how much he needed to hear it.

He sighed quietly, feeling some kind of relief, as if her reassurance had made his whole body relax.

He believed her.

No one would come in here.

No one would touch him.

He was safe with her.

He closed his eyes, concentrating only on the tender, gentle, feel-good touch of her fingers, on the smell of her body and her shampoo, on the fact that he could feel her breath on his neck.

She was beside him.

He slept restlessly and shuddered every time he woke up feeling her touch, terrified, but as soon as he turned his face towards her and saw her lying next to him immediately felt indescribably relieved.

In the morning, turning around and noticing that she really was awake, that at his slightest movement she opened her eyes and her hand began to stroke him again, he felt a squeeze in his heart.

"− sleep −" He whispered quietly, but she only smiled softly and shook her head as if she was happy to be with him. He felt hot in his heart, felt the need to touch her.

"− embrace me − I want to feel you close −" He murmured, moving closer to her, and she put her arm around him, lifting herself a little higher, pressing her cheek to the top of his head, brushing his hair. He murmured contentedly, snuggling his face into the hollow of her neck, his nostrils filled with her wonderful, longed-for scent.

He slept a stony sleep for the next few hours.

A knock on the door woke them and they both shuddered, terrified.

"Aemond, we have to go to breakfast. I knocked on Wright's room, but I think she's still asleep too. Did you guys forget to set your alarm clocks or something?" He asked amused and they looked at each other with big eyes not knowing what to do, he could see that she was afraid to move from her place.

"− you go on your own, I'm almost ready −" He said loud enough for him to hear and Cregan just sighed heavily and said he would wait for them at the restaurant.

He ran a hand over his face as he heard his footsteps moving slowly away, and then he glanced at her. They looked at each other for a long moment without speaking, tenderness, warmth and concern in her gaze.

He touched her cheek and ran his thumb over it − she closed her eyes, cuddling her face into his hand, stroking it with her fingers.

"− come here −" He hummed tenderly, drawing her to him, sinking into her mouth in an innocent, warm, wet kiss that had nothing of sexual desire in it, only pure longing for the closeness of beloved person.

He brushed the tip of his nose against hers and kissed her again, just as tenderly, purring contentedly when her free hand ran through his hair. She pulled away from him, pressing her forehead against his, trailing her fingers along the back of his head.

"Can I do that?" She asked softly, and he snorted at her question.

"You've been doing that all night at my request." He said softly, and she furrowed her brow, stroking him tenderly.

"I prefer to be sure. I don't want my touch to stop being…pleasurable to you." She mumbled, and he ran his thumb over her lips, not wanting her to say more, understanding what she meant.

"Your touch, your presence is the thing I crave most. I fear nothing so much than that you will no longer desire me after what you have seen." He said with a frown, and she shook her head hurriedly, kissing him quickly and lightly, looking at him again as if she wanted to show him with this gesture that he was completely wrong.

"I've never wanted anyone in my life like I want you."

_____

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess

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normal-internet-user · 1 year

Note

hiya cutieee!! i saw your requests were open and because I love your writing so much, I thought I'd send one in! 👉🏼👈🏼

if it's not too much trouble, can I have headcanons for a platonic!sibling!reader with the Rise Turtles? gender neutral, Mikey's "twin" in age, and selectively mute? I'd love some sibling fluff!!! only if you wanna, ofc!! no pressure (⁠*⁠＾⁠3⁠＾⁠)⁠/⁠～⁠♡ love yaaaaa!

— (can i be) 🪼 anon ?? ^^

Dawww shucks- you're so sweet<3 of course you can be Jelly fish anon! (Ok 100% honest I could not find the jelly fish emoji, so imma call u jelly lol)

RISE BOYS WITH A SELECTIVE MUTE SIBLING

....................................

You would be babied just as much as Mikey.

Honestly I'm surprised they don't put the two of you in a box labeled, "Fragile: Baby Siblings:"

You being selectivly mute has never been a problem for them,

No matter the reason for it.

All four of the boys know sign language,

Donnie and Mikey are the only one's fluent though.

Leo and Raph know enough to understand you, and hold a simple conversation,

But that's about it.

Donnie was non-verbal for a while as a kid, and Mikey's with you like, all day,

So it makes sense they'd be fluent.

You and Mikey are literally inseperable.

If one of you is around, there's a 99% chance the other is two.

You even share a room and everything, you have your half and he has his.

If either of you need some privacy, there's a curtain you can pull out to make a kinda wall between your halves.

You always go to Raphie for comfort.

Sure, you tell Mikey, like, everything,

But Raph just makes you feel safe.

Leo is always fucking with you in only the way an okder brother can.

"I'm not touching you!"

"I'm not in your room."

*Poke poke poke poke*

Just go complain to Donnie, he'll hide you in the lab and go fuck with Leo back.

Or you can deal with it yourself.

Your choice broski.

You're probably really quiet.

Like really fuckin' quiet.

So scaring your brothers is hella easy and really fun.

You can also just walk out of the room and no one will notice until walk back in with, like, a soda.

*Pop!*

"When did you leave??"

*Shrugs and sips soda*

Donnie has tried equipting you with a bell,

It did absolutely nothing.

Even with the bell, you're still so quiet-

If you're having a particular kind of day, Donnie always welcomes you into the lab.

Peaceful moments ensue.

Just the soft tinkering from your brother and the occasional convo in morse code.

Mikey's also a go to on these days,

Your twin knows all the things you need.

Usually you'll sit and watch him paint or something with some lofi beats playing in the backround.

April is the best big sister in the history of everything.

Everytime she visits she brings you a bag of your favorite candy.

She's also fluent in TSL (turtle sign language), so you don't have to worry about conversations with her.

You have mastered the art of nasty looks.

The most terrifying glare in the Hamato clan™️

You and Mikey can also hold entire conversations just with eye contact.

Twin things ig

....................................

There ya go Jelly! I hope I did your prompt justice and that this is to your liking! Sibling fluff is indeed the best <3

#tmnt #tmnt x reader #x reader #donnie x reader #leonardo x reader #raphael x reader #rottmnt #mikey x twin reader #platonic tmnt x reader #younger sibling reader #platonic x reader #tmnt x reader platonic #normie writes #save rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles

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aleksanderscult · 1 month

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Since we have officially entered the Aries' season I thought I should honor the fact that it's the Darkling's birthday! 🎉🎊

(No, we don't know his exact birthdate but we know he's an Aries. Anyways)

To celebrate it let's remember some facts about him.

Even though he was a Shadow Summoner, he loved bright colors. Blue, red, purple but most of all the color of sunlight.

Since we mentioned that he was a Shadow Summoner, isn't it endearing and ironic how he feared the dark when he was a child?

Once he didn't sleep for two nights because his mother had left him in a tent without a lantern.

He loved sweets! Cakes, pies etc. but his two favorites were a cake with cherries and sweet cream from Kerch and candies coated in sesame from Shu.

He had trouble mastering his powers as a child. He felt embarrassed for the fact that he couldn't make the Cut at the age of 13.

He could play the violin. 🎻

He was really intelligent from a very young age. Until the age of 13 he could speak three languages fluently and could read people and their behavior like an open book.

He was awkward and felt uneasy around children his own age since Baghra always kept them on the move and insisted not to let anyone touch him or for him to get close to someone.

He never met his father although he kept asking about him to his mother and wanted to meet him. The only thing he (possibly) ever knew was that he was a Heartrender.

He loooved nature. The trees and forests. The smell of them. Especially the evergreen trees. He even decorated his room in the Little Palace with carvings of trees.

Oh and he loves animals too! In the "Demon in the Wood" he got excited in the thought that he would see white tigers for the first time and Leigh once mentioned that he's kind to animals (we even saw that in "The Tailor" when he took time out of his duties to visit his horses, pat them and whisper to them soothingly).

And he actually saw those white tigers eventually.

Apparently he has great good looks to the point that he attracts others (and especially girls) like magnet since forever.

And his life was full of sex so he was experienced with it (Alina, your opportunity to fuck around and find out was literally right there).

The author confirmed (in 2014-2015, years before even the show came out) that he indeed harbored strong feelings for Alina and believed that they were destined for a future together (my man was ready to buy IKEA furnitures for their future house😭😭).

He had many, many half-siblings (one of them was a mermaid) and throughout the centuries he sought them out, out of a need for kinship, companionship and a desire to not be alone (🥲🔫)

This one is especially sad. He wasn't conceived out of love.

On another note though, his smell has been described as the smell of winter, forests and of the night.

In a solar eclipse his powers wouldn't be affected.

He's the Grisha with the most aliases in the Grishaverse (that's what living in a persecuted environment as a child does to you).

It's confirmed by the author that he was created after fantastical villains that she used to love, so please let that rumor that he was inspired after her abusive ex finally rest for good.

He had indeed fallen in love many times in the past but he kept witnessing the people he loved die from their mortality. At some point he just gave up on love and became more and more closed off. (Let's talk about the break he never had💀)

We might not know which person was the first he ever fell in love with, but we know which was the last one: Alina.

Do you remember those countless letters Alina was sending to Mal in "Shadow and Bone"? Well, the Darkling not only kept them secretly but read ALL off them.

He has a throat-neck fetish. And it's probably canon. The way he kissed Alina's throat every chance he got, the way he once nipped it, the collar and how he was always touching it.

According to Leigh, he didn't start wanting to be King. But this ambition came eventually after deeming it the only way to change things.

Kaz has been described as more selfish than Aleksander.

Well most of them turned out to be sad and tragic but that's because he had a tragic life and he himself was a tragic character.

Happy birthday to one of the best and most iconic book characters ever created. 🎉🎊

#and today we have a solar eclipse 👀#HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THAT LITTLE MEOW MEOW #I miss that fucker 🥹#the darkling #pro darkling #aleksander morozova #pro aleksander morozova #darklina #pro darklina #alarkling #pro alarkling #grishaverse #shadow and bone #alina starkov #grishaverse trilogy

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nut4shuri · 1 year

Text

BLISSFUL NOISE

(18+)

#shuri x female reader

SOMEONE ASKED FOR THE DIRTIEST FIC I COULD WRITE,SO I TRIED..LET ME KNOW WHAT YALL THINK!🤍

Warnings:⚠️Smut,oral sex,Dom shuri..as always,Provocative language,this fic is dirty asf,its filthy and i know yall gone love it.⚠️

Shuri watched in awe as you pranced around her lab in your tiny shorts and half shirt,biting down on her bottom lip she flicked her tounge over her lips and pressed her pen up against her top lip thinking of all the dirty shit she could do to you.

As much as she hated you,she wanted you so bad. She played as if she disliked you because you where indeed killmonger's baby sister or a close friend (⚠️NOT HIS ACTUAL BLOOD SISTER! MORE LIKE A CLOSER FRIEND/PLAY SISTER,THIS IS NOT AN INCEST STORY⚠️!!) and as far as she could see it you where part of the reason her brother was gone.

But none of that could shake this feeling,she loved you,she wanted you,she craved you,she touched herself every night just thinking about you,being in you..caressing your beautiful brown skit,feeling her touch lapping at it,her face between your thick thighs sucking at your sweetness. It was all like heaven to her..

"Princess..."your gental voice sounded though her thoughts,till she noticed you stood before her.

Shuri chocked out "What?"

"I just wanted to tell you i had finished the calculations.."

Shuri stood on her feet her figure towering over you a bit as she ran her eyes down your tiny but thick figure,walking past you dismissively she began to scan over something not even saying another word.

But you paid it no mind. She was always like this to you,and as far as you could say you loved it. You liked her dominant personality,and how smooth she was,You liked the way she carried herself,you sometimes imagined what it would be like for her to push you up against the walls and have her way with you.

Inclusive Thoughts... You smiled lightly.

Your imagination ran wild as you took in her figure,wanting nothing more but for her to slam you against the table and rail you.

"Your staring."Shuri sounded out.

"S-sorry.."you said completely embarrassed.

"Don't be sorry,be careful"

"Why would i have to be careful?" You spoke with out any thought. You had quite the mouth and Shuri liked that.

Such a fucking brat..She thought.

"Because you could get yourself into some trouble,not even Bast could get you out of."she said turning your way she smirked at your flushed figure.

"W-"

"Your flushed."she said

"N-no im not.."

She began to walk your way causing you to back away into her desk accidentally knocking over something in the process.

Shuri groaned for a second and walked over to you faster pushing you on to her desk.

"Sh-shuri"

"Y/N..i need you,i need you like i need the air i fucking breath,please let me have you."she begged,her accent making it sound so much better.

"ok."

You whined out gripping on to shuris curls as her tounge lapped at your wetness,sucking onto your clit and squeezing your breasts.

She sat in her desk chair and she had you laid out on her table,nipping and sucking on you as if you where her first meal of the day.

Her fingers moving around in you as if she was seaching for something and you moaned out at the feeling.

She moaned into you,as if her bringing you utter pleasure only turned her on even more.

"Fuck it i gotta feel you.." she spoke before flipping you over on your knees,planting a firm smack to your ass making you whine out.

She yanked your head back by your hair,attaching her lips to your roughly.

She pulled away smacking your ass again causing you to moan loud.

"Shhh,you dont want the elders to hear you know do you?" She spoke planting a kiss against your ass.

"Fucking Beautiful."she spat out with agression.

"Im gonna take you now.."she spoke to you as you looked back at her.

How did she even have time to put that thing on..you thought

She laughed a little,rubbing the strap between your folds allowing to circle your clit,then began to push it in slowly.

"fuck.."she groaned lowly as if she could feel it to..(she can)

Gripping your hair harder she steadied her self.

"Put your hands behind your back.."she said and you crossed your hands across your back.

She used one hand to hold your hair and another to hold your wrists.

Not wasting anymore time she began to fuck you relentlessly,moaning and groaning at each thrust.

Letting go of your hair she gripped your ass in her palms and placed firm spanks to it.

Your bodys up against each other,the heat from each thurst made this feel like heaven.

You felt as if you where seeing stars as you bit down on your bottom lip.

"Fuck now they can see how pretty you look..how well you take me princess."

Shuri spoke out as she drilled into you her arms wrapped around your waist holding you up against the glass and your arms wrapped around her neck.

She bit and sucked at your neck,that was sure to leave a mark.

Her forehead against your she began to slow her thrust,but made them deeper.

She wanted you to feel all of her..in the best way possible.

You two where going at it for about an hour now,her having you cum over 9 times. You felt overstimulated but you loved it.

"Fuck"she said as she slipped out of you.

She placed you down face to face with her strap and grabbed your hair.

"Show me what that mouth do ma.."she said and smirked.

You looked up at her as you wrapped your lips around it sucking lightly.

Not breaking eye contact,She groaned and pushed your head farther down,wrapping a hand around your neck.

Causing you to chock lightly,your eyes watered as you settled your throat and began bobbing back and forth.

She moaned and groaned out,praising you for how well you took it.

She bit her lip,as she pushed your head away removing the strap her juices began to leak down her legs.

She walked over to her chair sitting down she opened her legs,her pussy full on display for you.

"Come"she said using her fingers to user you over.

Walking over to her getting on your knees.

"Make daddy feel good..and ill make you cum again."she said as she ran her hands over your braids.

Opening her folds you licked over her wetness wrapping your tounge around her clit.

Doing your best to please her you added a finger then another as your tounge slid back and forth over her clit making her moan out.

"Fuck Yes.."

Her back arched off her seat as your fingers sped up and your tounge worked fast..

Her eyes rolled back,and her clit pulsed in your mouth.

"Im gonna cum,fuck" she said as her hands pushed your head deeper in and her hips thrusted up.

"Yes yes yes" she moaned out as she threw her head back and stiffened up.

"PRINCESS I-"

Shuri groaned out holding your hips steady as you road her slow and steady,your wetness sliding back an forth over hers.

"Fuck"she moaned out her hand around your neck.

Your clit pulsed against hers as you rocked back and forth making you moan out.

"NOT NOW.."she shouted.

"BUT PRINCESS-" the AI tried again.

"NOT N-NOW"shuri moaned out as you sped up the pace.

"BUT PRINCESS THE GENERAL AND MS.WILLAMS ARE ON THEIR WAY !" The AI shouted though the walls.

You and Shuris eyes widen as you both stood rushing to place on your clothing but you couldn't because the doors began to open so you ran underneath her desk.

"Hello General,Riri-" shuri choked out.

"Hello Princess,Y/N."

Your eyes widen as you cursed under your breath and coughed akwardly.

Peaking your head from underneath the desk.. "Hi guys!"

"Where you guys getting it on?" Riri spoke and The General let out a chuckle.

"Its not funny!"Shuri yelped.

#letitia wright #shuri x reader #i love shuri #shuri udaku #princess shuri #shuri x you #i forgot to put tags

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pennyellee · 5 months

Text

preview of chapter VI

LACRIMOSA | MYG MAFIA YANDERE AU

pairings: mafia leader!yoongi x f!reader genre: mafia!au, yandere au, historical au

summary: Their interlocking gaze served as a butterfly effect on his heart, stirring it to the core. She, in turn, only dreams to find a way to escape. But perchance, over time she might forcefully learn to love the man who has taken so much from her.

Thus unfolds a twisted tale of love and loss, of hope and despair, of life and death. The music reverberated through the dimly-lit streets. Tears of sorrow, weeping symphony - reflects the hurt, the scars that linger deep within and the wounds that never healed. Lacrimosa.

chapter warnings: minors dni 18+ | mafia au, dark!yoongi, mafia!yoongi, yandere, manipulation, possessive/obsessive behaviour, angst, mentions of God, mentions of alcohol, manhandling, mentions of murder, gun use, abduction, attempted non-con, gaslighting, vomiting, anxiety, choking, decapitation, strong language, smut, loss of virginity

beta read by @chaoticpuff17

word count: 844

disclaimer: this story is purely fictional, it does not depict real-life events or involve any actual members of BTS. This story will contain depictions of violence, blood shed, death, mentions of abuse, smoking, alcohol drinking, illegal activities, old social norms and traditions, which we do not condone.

m.list CHAPTER I CHAPTER II CHAPTER III CHAPTER IV CHAPTER V CHAPTER VI

“Do we?-” She interrupted, praying for a change of his mind, though fully aware of the inevitability. He needed to ensure no loopholes in their marriage for others to exploit or for her to negotiate over. She knows this is mandatory.

“Yes, we do,” he acknowledged after some thought. Knowing what she had been through that day, he recognised the potential impact, but he also saw it as a way to fully claim her. It was a selfish desire, perhaps, but one he had long awaited.

Yoongi longed to feel her skin to skin. It was indeed selfish, he knew that much. Some would say it is careless of him to demand such an intimate act to happen after all she has been through. But he wanted to show her that this is a part of their marriage she can truly enjoy. Yoongi wanted to give a final full stop to their relationship by solidifying the union rightfully, as the tradition goes.

The flickering flames of the fireplace danced in the dimly lit room, casting a warm glow upon Y/N and Yoongi. Consummating the marriage was a private but necessary measure.

His selfishness had not gone unnoticed by the syndicate elders, who questioned his insistence on not just any hotel room but the house where generations of memories had been created. He deliberately wanted to spend the night in the house he grew up in, where his father started a family, and his grandfather, and his grandfather and so on down the history line.

Yoongi, having lost his parents at a young age, yearned to start his own family. He wanted to witness the growth of his children, their marriages, and their own families.

Y/N knew this day would come, sooner or later, and as a young woman, she had learnt to protect herself from unplanned consequences. She understood his desire for a child, though he never explicitly discussed it with her. But she was far from being ready to surrender to the life fate had planned for her, not just yet.

Heaven had given her a sign, a slight hope when she found a particular herb in the garden before the first snow fell. Y/N had kept it discreet, asking the maid to dry the flowers and serve them as tea in the morning. Tonight, she was calm, knowing it could not happen, even if he wished otherwise.

Yoongi observed her hesitance, her eyes reflecting a mixture of fear and resilience. The room, with its walls that held generations of memories, seemed to echo with the weight of tradition and expectation. But as he reached out to touch her cheek gently, his eyes softened.

The sharp sound of a loud whistle from the tea kettle startled them both, tearing them out of the cocoon of their thoughts. The iron kettle hung gracefully over the open flame, steam rising in wisps as if trying to escape the weight of the night. Yoongi carefully prepared the tea, his movements deliberate and unhurried. The aroma of freshly brewed leaves filled the air. The porcelain teapot, an heirloom passed down through generations, sat patiently on the wooden small table that was next to them. As he poured the tea into delicate cups, he eyed her small physique yet again, searching for any signs.

She accepted the cup he offered her, the warmth seeping through the delicate porcelain. Her mind briefly paused when she recognised the familiar scent. She chuckled and Yoongi raised his eyebrows in surprise, awaiting her words. Y/N took a few careful sips from the cup, accepting what it offered.

“Are you afraid, Kkangpae?” She asked, taking another sip. Yoongi put his cup on the wooden table and looked directly in her eyes.

“Me? No,” he pointed at himself, hiding a smile.

“So why did you choose to make tea from Valerian root?” Her studies that surely included herbalism had escaped Yoongi’s mind.

“I knew this night would be difficult for you, and I — I wanted to ensure it went as smoothly as possible,” he confessed.

“Considerate,” she muttered, more to herself than to him. Yoongi’s gaze faltered, and he looked away momentarily.

“I want you to enjoy it—”

“Then make me enjoy it,” she interrupted him yet again, gulping down the contents of her cup, setting it down with a gentle clink next to his almost full one.

“I intend to,” he said. The complexities of tradition, the weight of the syndicate expectations, seemed to press down on them like the heavy beams of the hanok. Yet, he was thrilled at the prospect of laying her down and making love to her, while she tried to make peace with the path ahead.

A mixture of emotions played across Y/N’s face, the tension in the air made her anxious. The tea flowed in her system, calming her. The steps were set, and she cannot back down now.

His hands cradled her face, a gesture that held both tenderness and an unspoken understanding. But Y/N knows he will never understand. And thus, the night unfolded.

01.12.23 23:00/11 PM CEST - 01.12.23 17:00/5 PM EDT

©pennyellee. please do not repost

Don't be a silent reader, comment, re-blog, heart, asks are more than welcome ♥

keep in mind - I'm not expert on chinese, korean and japanese culture, but I tried to research everything realistic I wanted to add to the story. Nonetheless, take it as a fiction.

let's be friends chummers ♥

lots of love, 𝖕𝖊𝖓𝖓𝖞𝖊𝖑𝖑𝖊

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cambion-companion · 1 year

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hiiiii I really love your stories and side note it’s my birthday, first one on my own so I plan on just having a chill day with my dog indoors, halfway through rereading your master list already, could I make a request or suggestion for something kinda angsty, like someone’s jealous or something? Thank youuuu

I am writing a continuation of reader wife going to that brothel we see in episode 9 and fucking that bitch up having words with the landlady. ALSO HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!

Prepare for some Robin Hood type shit from reader

These two fics go serve a good backstory for this fic.

Yes I had fun creating this banner muahaha

The night was young.

The wind chill on your face as you snuck outdoors, careful to not rouse your sleeping husband.

Aemond must not know what you intended; he would never allow it.

You had taken a moment to observe his sleeping form, his beautifully carved face relaxed in slumber, a stray strand of silver hair falling across his high cheekbone. You swept it away with a delicate touch and he smiled in his sleep.

The image of him fresh in your mind, the man your heart and body belonged to, in such an intimate and tender moment only stirred your anger to greater heights. You seethed; it was passed time you had words with a certain Madam of the Street of Silk.

You had your short bow with you, in case sharp words turned to something worse. You had wrapped your hands and wrists in fabric, as your father had once taught you, so in the event of a brawl you would be prepared to throw punches.

You knew just where to go, it was a well-known brothel, serving only higher-end clientele. Padding down the street with booted feet you made your silent way, not quite knowing what you were going to say or do upon arrival. So focused were you on your goal you took no notice of the shadowy figure following you down the steps of the Red Keep.

The women loitering outside the establishment, trying lure passing men inside, watched you approach with interest.

"'Tis not often we get ladies in here." One spoke, you valiantly tried to keep your eyes on her face.

"I'm here to speak to your Madam." Your voice was terse even to your own ears.

The courtesan frowned, her red lips pouting. "Mistress Trolunda is inside, though she's not entertaining guests personally tonight."

"No weapons allowed." The girl closest to the door held up a hand as you made to enter, her eyes were on the bow and quiver on your back.

"Bullshit." They gasped at your rude language, but your patience had taken leave this evening. "I'm sure you don't enforce that rule on your male customers."

You pushed your way passed, not a difficult feat and the women didn't put up much of a fight to stop you. Their glowering glares burned into your back as you walked through the doorway into a wide room lit with rosy fireglow.

The men inside did indeed carry weapons, those who were dressed anyway. It wasn't terribly busy inside the main room; several intertwined couples took up spaces by the several lit torches. You didn't look too hard at them, their states of undress and groping hands making your cheeks flush despite yourself.

"To what do we owe this pleasure?" An older woman approached you from behind a clerical looking counter. She had light auburn hair and light eyes that looked you up and down calculatingly.

"Mistress Trolunda I take it?" You tilted your head, your hands clenching into fists at your sides.

She gave your garb an appraising glance, a flicker of recognition crossing her froglike features. "I am she. If you're hear for business and pleasure you've come to the right place."

"Just business." You stepped forward, pressing into her space, pleased to note you were taller than her squat form. "To make sure no other children are victim to your debauchery."

"I beg your pardon?" Trolunda's voice had taken on an icy undertone, her eyes narrowing at you. "Who are you to dictate what goes on in my establishment."

"Someone who will make your life a living hell." You closed the remaining distance with a menacing step. "Or end it altogether."

She opened her mouth, her gaze searching behind you for help.

"Call for assistance and this knife will find your heart." You threatened.

Trolunda looked down and saw the knife you had withdrawn, poised at her ribcage. Her expression was wary as she met your eyes again. "What do you want?" Despite her effort to keep her reactions hidden you could hear the tremor of fear in her words.

"Children are to be left alone, not to be touched. Any girls you have working for you under the age of seventeen you will either find new work for or different jobs."

She snorted derisively, gasping a little as you prodded her with the sharp end of your dagger. "Alright, calm down." She raised her hands in submission. "I will do as you ask."

"Should patrons come wishing to see any workers under seventeen, you are to refuse them and report them to the King's Guard."

Her eyes widened. "The King's Guard? You cannot be serious. I would lose significant income."

"Did I stutter."

"No, no you did not." The Madam looked keenly at your face, before making a curtsying gesture, right before she hefted a heavy porcelain plate from the counter and smashed it against the side of your head.

White pain filled your vision as you stumbled to the side, falling to the ground, momentarily stunned. You felt a booted foot connect with your jaw, sending you reeling against the wooden floor.

Shouts and screams sent bolts of pain through your throbbing head, you squinted through bleary eyes, seeing the Madam approaching you with a curved dagger drawn and ready to slice at your vulnerable form.

You swept your leg out, knocking against her shins enough to cause her to stagger. The working women and half-naked men fled the scene as you lurched to your feet, bracing your weight against one of the oaken walls. You held your own dagger out in front of you like Aemond had taught.

Trolunda swiped at you once, clearly inexperienced with wielding weapons of any sort. You lashed out with your foot, catching her in the sternum and sending her falling back onto her tailbone. She shrieked a curse at you, her cry cutting through your aching temples like hot iron.

"Cease this at once!"

You were about to lunge at the woman, but Aemond's commanding voice stilled the very breath in your chest.

There he stood, framed in the doorway, those who had fled could be seen cowering in corners behind him. The hood of his cloak was thrown back, his long hair shining silver in the torchlight, he had not donned his eyepatch, the sapphire gemstone glittered menacingly as his lilac eye surveyed the scene before him with displeasure. His sword was drawn, though it was currently pointed at the ground.

The Madam righted herself, brushing down her rumpled skirts as her eyes flicked from Aemond to you and back again. A knowing smile itched up her unpleasant face. "Ah. I see now." Both you and Aemond glared at her as she smoothed back her mussed hair. "You are his." Her predatory gaze fell upon you once more. "I do hope what he learned in my care all those years ago has served you well."

With a cry of incandescent fury you fell upon the woman, pummeling each inch of her your fists could find. She collapsed beneath you, shielding her face and screaming inane curses as you continued beating her about the head.

Strong hands closed around your waist and hauled you off the woman, yet you still kicked out at her with your feet, making satisfying contact several more times as Aemond dragged you away.

"You've married a little beast, my prince." Trolunda gasped, wiping the blood from her nose off her lips. Though she was injured she still looked satisfied.

"Better a 'little beast' than a fucking child predator." You snarled, still trying to free yourself. "Aemond, let me go."

"You have made your point, Y/N." He sounded strained as he kept firm hold of your writhing form.

"Throw her in the dungeons, call in Vhagar, do something!"

"She has done nothing illegal." Aemond said softly, finally releasing you but placing a warning hand on your arm. "We need to leave, now."

"Wait for me outside." You turned to him finally, aware that the Madam watched you with a derisive smirk. "Please, Aemond. If you truly care for me, give me one minute alone with her."

His eye roamed your features for a moment before he looked at the woman over your shoulder. Something in his face hardened and he sighed shortly. "Fine. One minute, and no killing. That's an order."

"Yes sir."

He turned to leave, ushering the people still within the brothel to exit as well before closing the door behind him.

You turned slowly on the spot, facing the woman who once again had the dagger in her hand.

"He is powerless to do anything, as are you." She sneered. "Just as he was when his brother brought him to me."

In a flash you had drawn your bow off your back, notched an arrow, aimed and loosed.

With a cry of fear and grunt of surprise the woman was pinned by the sleeve of her heavy dress to the wall. She raised the dagger in her free hand as if to throw but your second arrow had already flown, pinning her other arm as well.

"I do not rescind what I said." You lowered your weapon, not hiding your smirk at her helpless state. "If any other children fall victim to this establishment you will burn in dragon fire, this I promise you."

After one last withering look, you turned on your heel and departed through the main door.

Aemond saw the Madam pinned by your arrows from the doorway as you left. His brow arched and he looked down at you with an expression you'd never seen before. "Are you finished?"

"Only because you interrupted." You were still in a foul mood; striding passed him and back towards the Keep.

The streets were empty now, apparently the citizens previously present wanted nothing to do with the unfolding drama, especially after Aemond arrived.

Aemond grabbed hold of your elbow, yanking you around to face him non to gently. "What did I say to you yesterday when you were so intent upon coming here?"

"Not to?"

"Ah, so your memory still functions." Aemond was becoming angry, his gaze taking in the blood trickling down from your hairline and the bruises forming upon your jaw. "Tell me why you blatantly disobeyed me."

"Children are being preyed upon, Aemond." You matched him with your own fiery anger, prodding his chest with your finger. "You are not the only on to be taken advantage of. I shudder to think what goes on in King's Landing. Since I am your wife, I have a duty to the people."

"Throwing yourself mindlessly into danger doesn't qualify as one of those duties, Y/N!" Aemond was close to shouting now, something that you had not yet experienced from him before.

"Mindlessly?" You raised your voice as well, your nostrils flaring. "What I did was very calculated, thank you very much."

Aemond passed a hand over his face, suddenly weary. You turned your back to him and continued back to your chambers, fuming. He walked in silent contemplation behind you as you stomped down the halls.

Once safe inside the room you threw aside your weapons and cloak, kicking off your boots and slumping upon the bed, staring unseeing up at the ceiling.

A few minutes later the mattress dipped beside you and Aemond's face hovered into view. He tucked an errant strand of hair behind your ear, his expression had softened upon seeing the tears pricking the corners of your eyes.

"I do not wish you to come to any harm, my fierce wife." He spoke softly now, watching as you propped yourself on an elbow to face him.

"I want to avenge the harm already done to you, Aemond." You traced his jaw with your fingers.

"Not if it puts you at risk." He shook his head. "Nothing is worth that." He tilted your own face to the side, examining your injuries with a severe frown. "And you seem intent on suffering for my sake."

"It's not suffering. I made progress in there, believe it or not." You took his hand in yours, lowering it to the mattress. "I just need you to trust me, work with me, and together we can break the cycle."

Aemond studied you for several silent moments, his lips pursed in thought, his lilac gaze suddenly seemed far away as he stared over your shoulder.

"I will think on it." He at last spoke. "For now, I am going to help clean and bandage you. On the morrow we will speak with the council about taking further action on this matter."

"Thank you, Aemond." You gently pressed your lips to his, lingering there to breathe him in. "That's all I ask."

"And no more personal vendettas for my sake." He combed his fingers carefully through your tangled hair. "We will make use of the proper channels as duty dictates."

"No sending in Vhagar?"

"No sending in Vhagar." He chuckled, a low delicious sound. "And I will know if you go to her yourself, Y/N."

You glanced guiltily into his eye, Aemond seemed to have been reading your thoughts. "Wouldn't dream of it."

"Mmhmm." Your husband sighed, shaking his silver head before getting out of bed to prepare the wash basin. "What am I going to do with you?" He spoke as if to himself as he gathered healing ointments.

"Hopefully something to take my mind off this horrible headache." You winced as you sat up.

"I'm sure I can come up with something." Aemond graced you with a small smile, a flicker of reverence and gratitude crossing his handsome face as he held your gaze. "For now, let me tend to the injuries you sustained while fighting for my honor."

You both laughed lightly, the crackling fire illuminating the room in a cozy glow as Aemond looked after you with gentle hands and soft kisses against your warm skin.

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idwtransformers-vibe · 20 days

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(⁠.⁠ ⁠❛⁠ ⁠ᴗ⁠ ⁠❛⁠.⁠) a fluffy fic with idw prowl, maybe (fem.reader) them having to share a habsuite because they're transferred to a different facility. so, one berth. prowl, after mass displacement, begrudingly sleeps next to the human and reluctantly submits to the cuddles (human is too soft not to cuddle.)

Heya! Hope you don't mind me using my Soul-Spark Airways idea in this! If you want, I can tag you in it!

Now, onto the one berth trope (my favorite tbh)

IDW Prowl sharing a berth with fem!reader:

"Are you serious?" Prowl glared at Optimus and Soul-Spark Airways maintenance manager. "What do you mean I have to share MY hab with (Y/n)?" He demanded an answer. He does not like the thought of sharing his space. He loved his space. Never once had he ever had a roommate, not in his personal quaters, at least. The war is over. Why should he share his space with a human?

"Prowl, it is only temporary. Unfortunately, her documents got mixed up, and someone at the badging office deactivated her badge by accident. She is not allowed to be alone on Cybertron until her badge is working again, and since it's not working, she can't be alone without an escort... You are the only one available with the authorization to escort her." Optimus explained apologetically. He knew he was asking for a lot with these terms. While he didn't want to force Prowl into this, he would hate for the woman to get stranded somewhere on Cybertron.

"We'll try to get her badge sorted as quick as we can and try to relocate her documents." The maintenance manager chimed in. He felt bad for both his mechanic and Prowl. Mainly for the mechanic, though, as this was sheer bad luck.

Prowl glared at the human who stood on the table before him. He glared down at the fragile yet resilient being. "Why not find the IDIOT who deactivated her badge and the IDIOT who lost her he documents?" He seethed.

"Well... The badging office is a different company-" The manager was soon cut off by an irritated groan.

Prowl has met (Y/n) before. She had done heavy maintenance on him after he had gotten into a pretty bad battle. At the time, she was the only mechanic available and performed emergency repairs on him. He hadn't seen her since then, though. But, he has spoken to her before through comms. She had always helped him with getting things delivered. "Fine. She can stay with me." He huffed. His optics narrowed at the two as they both seemed to have a look of relief on their faces.

"Thank you... We'll have someone pick her up."

"You better have someone alright." He grumbled.

A few hours went by. He figured (Y/n) was having to go through strict security protocol as she no longer had her badge.

Soon, he heard a knock on the door. He left his desk and went to open the door. There she was, in her mechanic uniform with a bag full of clothes and necessities. She gave him a smile, quite happy to see him again. "Long time no see." She smiled.

"Indeed." He moved himself out of the way to let her in.

Once she was in, he shut the door behind her. She seemed to be admiring the cleanliness of his hab. "Nice place." She complimented.

Prowl didn't respond. He only carefully moved past her to go back to his desk. (Y/n) tried to see what he was looking at on the datapad, but was too small to see. She heard him grumble in his language over something. She can understand Cybertronian somewhat, but only enough to greet someone or to excuse herself.

Little to her knowledge, Prowl was trying to locate her documents herself. But since he does not work for Soul-Spark Airways, he was denied access. He could manipulate the system... But he doesn't feel like facing the consequences of losing this company's trust.

So, he simply set the datapad down and looked down at them. "I'm going to lay down some rules. Do not touch my stuff, do not leave this hab unless I am with you, or until you have your badge back, and do not stick your nose into my business, and once you have your badge, you're out, understood?"

She nodded. She was warned that he was quite prickly. Although, it was go figure for her. He was always stern and prickly when he wanted certain things transported when the war was going on not too long ago.

Later that evening, after (Y/n) had her dinner, and Prowl had refueled. One got ready to turn in for the night while the other was looking at more data files. "So... Where will I sleep?" The woman asked.

Prowl sighed and looked over his shoulder as if she were disrupting him. She wasn't. He's just annoyed about sharing his space. "You can sleep on my berth."

"What about you, though?" She asked with confusion in her voice. There was only one berth here, where was he going to rest?

"I plan on staying up."

"Prowl, I've worked on your systems before. Your tanks don't have enough energy to pull off 24 hours. Not like an aircraft bot, they can do 24 to 48 hours." (Y/n) explained. This earned her quite the grimace from the autobot. He clearly didn't like being told that his body could not handle the 24-hour function.

"Rest." He ordered.

"You know I'm right-"

"And I don't care. Now sleep." He ordered once more.

The mechanic rolled her eyes some. He was still the same stubborn mech. So, she laid on his berth without another word. She tried to sleep, but it was proven difficult. She spent so much time being a Cargo-Runner that she had gotten used to the sound of a bots internal system running. She normally slept inside of her aircraft bot friend. Their system internal system was loud, but soothing to her. So the sudden silence with the only sound of tapping was a bit unsettling to her.

Prowl would tap away at the files. His systems started signifying that it was time to rest. He would defer the warning, but then it would come right back. This kept happening that he just tossed the datapad onto the desk. He turned his helm to look at the barely sleeping human. A part of him yearned for human touch. The plush and soft feeling of them was almost the equivalent of a human hugging a soft plushie, almost.

He carefully stood up from his desk and made his way over to the berth. He stared at her more. The soft hue of his optics glowed down on her figure. He went back and forth in his mind. A part of him says no, why in Primus's name would he cuddle someone, while the other part him wondered what's the harm in cuddling a human? This could help him relax, which is something he really needed. 'Oh, frag it.' He thought to himself. Prowl carefully laid next to (Y/n)

This startled her slightly, a little surprised to find herself being spooned by the grumpy bot. "Prowl?"

"Go to sleep." He mumbled. Prowl was not about to have this conversation now. He didn't want to, and he never will.

She could feel his firm hold on her. It didn't too tight, but firm enough to the point that she couldn't move, but she found a way to shift herself around some enough to face herself towards him. He surprisingly felt comfortable, he felt warm. He felt like something that came fresh out of the dryer.

So, she laid her head on his chassis. There was the sound she craved to hear, they running sound of the Cybertronian system. She could finally feel herself become sleepy.

Prowl was a bit surprised by this, but he accepted it nonetheless. He slowly rubbed her back and entangled his legs with hers. This felt good on his joints, not that he was that old, but it does feel good. He could see why a lot of bots made cuddle buddies out of the humans. Maybe he could make a cuddle buddy out of her? Well... Maybe not... He needs to give it some thought. For now, he'll enjoy this moment. He buried his face into the top of her head and sighed with satisfactory. Maybe this arrangement wasn't so bad after all.

#transformers idw #transformers #idw prowl #idw prowl x reader #hope this was good!

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romanstheory · 4 months

Text

Superstar A Roman Reigns One Shot

Warnings: Smut, Language, Oral sex (m&f recieving), OC

Word Count: 1,850

OC: __maleeyah on IG

18 +

"I can't believe afrobeat has come this far" I say grinning from ear to ear "A few years ago nobody really knew what it was". My brothers and long time friend Burna Boy sit on the sofa while I put the finishing touches on my makeup. "I mean we're about to take over the stage at the BET Awards" I continue. This year has been so busy for me, tours, award shows, and now a WWE contract under my belt, how could this year get any better? I've released an album with my childhood best friend Damini a.k.a Burna boy, life is great. Just a few years ago I was a girl in Nigeria, broke with a dream. "Sade, the world is yours Ifemi (my love)" Burna Boy says grinning at me. He's always been like another one of my brothers, encouraging and annoying all at the same time. We hear a knock at the door, my eldest brother gets up to open it, we're not expecting anyone.

He opens the door, revealing Triple H. "Hi! Hunter!" I say enthusiastically. Behind him trails a few WWE superstars that I've invited to the show to see me perform. "Come in!" I say standing up. "Thank you so much for the invite, we're all excited to see the performance" He says as he and the superstars walk in. Last behind him is Roman Reigns, with that brooding look he always had on his face. I've been under contract for a few months now and never come across him in the flesh. Hunter introduces the boys and I to all of the superstars. "You look nice" Roman says smoothly, his face still brooding but slightly softened. "Thank you" I feel warmth run across my brown cheeks and that flutter in my stomach, you know the kind you feel right before you get on a ride at an amusement park.

"It's almost time for us to go on, we'd better get going" Burna boy says standing and gesturing for me to leave the room. "It was nice meeting you all, enjoy the show!" I say with a smile, but locking eyes on Roman. Our attire is casual, I sport loose cargo pants and a fitted crop top, white forces on my feet. Burna Boy wears jeans and a loose T Shirt that at some point would come off because it always did. I inhale heavily as he runs out to start the performance. Soon it's my turn and I run out to a roaring crowd, Roman and the other superstars front and center. It feels like my heart is going to explode or beat right out of my chest. The venue is full of roaring screams and the beat of our platinum record. I whine my hips and move to the beat of the song, Roman's eyes locked on my, still stoic in expression.

We finish our three song performance and run off stage. I'm shaking with adrenaline as I jump into Burna Boy's arm. "Oh my god Damini we really just did that shit! Iyanu! (amazing)" I scream. "We did! Did you hear the crowd?" He replies with a grin. Soon we are met again by Hunter and the superstars, all congratulating us and complimenting our performance. I lock eyes with the very tall Roman Reigns, secretly waiting on him to say something to me. His eyes study me the way you would the night before an exam... Up and down slowly while he hold his universal championship across his broad shoulder. I can't help but stare back, taking in all of his 6'3 frame. Burna Boy looks at both of us and chuckles before escorting Hunter and the others away to distract them, leaving Roman and I alone.

"You did great out there" He says interrupting the silence. "Thank you, that means a lot" I say, my eyes stopping at the obvious bulge in his pants. Quickly I bring my eyes back to his, hoping her didn't notice. His crooked smile proves he did indeed see me. "You look" He pauses, studying my body once again "good as hell". I feel my brown cheeks grow warm again. "You don't look half bad either" I reply. "I would rather see you without the outfit on though, if I'm being honest" He says boldly with a smirk. i'm both taken aback and turned on by his boldness, but this is Roman Reigns after all... What was i expecting? "Take me to your room and convince me to let you see" I reply back boldly.He shooks me a smirk and a quiet chuckle before taking my hand and leading the way. --

He opens the door to his room, it smells like he just sprayed cologne. He sits his title on the bedside table, and we sit on the bed. The sexual tension between the two of is quickly fills the room. He softly grabs my face and pulls me into a passionate kiss. I'm already craving him. His soft lips press against mine, I put my hand on the now even bigger bulge I had seen earlier. "Make me want to show you what's under here" I whisper. I feel that smirk creep across his lips again. He unbuckles my pants, sliding his warm hand under my panties and begins rubbing my already throbbing clit. A soft moan escapes my lips, almost in relief that he's touching me. He slides his tongue into my mouth, still circling my clit with his big fingers. Our lips smack together with passion, tongues dancing around each other slowly.

"Convinced?" Roman's deep voice vibrates through my eardrums. "I am" I say biting my lip. He softly pulls at my clothing, encouraging me to slip out of it while he does the same. His big brown eye dig into me like daggers. He slowly shifts his weight on top of me causing me to end up laying on my back. His eyes studying my body like they had earlier on in the night. He presses his warm lips onto mine again, this time I gently bite his bottom lip when we pull away. I can feel the blood rushing through my body while it anticipates what's coming next.

He trails slow soft kisses from my lips, to my neck, to my now sensitive breasts, ending at my throbbing vagina. "You're already wet" Roman says "We're just getting started baby girl". His words shoot through my body while he begins to softly massage my clit with his tongue. Up, down, and in circles he licks slowly but with preciseness. I squirm around unable to handle the sensation. "Don't run from me" He growls softly "Let daddy eat". I let out a loud moan, putting my hand on top of his head taking in a fist full of his long black hair. His tongue swirls perfectly around and around. His eyes meet mine again, this time they're dark with lust. This man is about to take my soul from me, and I would willingly give it to him a million times over.

My mouth drops open as I feel my body fill with the warm sensation of climax. I screech loudly as I close my thick thighs tightly around his head, he continues licking. "Oh my god! Fuck I-" I cut myself off panting, searching for my next breath. He sits up, licking his lips slowly before leaning over me again. He takes his time with everything, making sure he pleases me as if he gets off on seeing me squirm. "Good girl" He whispers in my ear with a smirk. I feel the warmth of his long thick member at the entrance of my vagina. He knows full well that he's teasing me. He kisses my neck while he grabs his member, massaging the entrance of my soaked vagina with it. "It seems like you want me bad" He whispers in my ear again just before pressing his length into me slowly. His eyes continue to study my body, up and down his eyes scan.

He exhales sharply "Damn you feel good" He growls. His member now soaked in my juices. He guides his hip back and forward slowly, deeply, and with passion. His hands meet my sensitive breasts, rolling my nipples between his fingers. "Fuck" I scream. Roman closes his eyes, enjoying every second of what's happening. Quiet groans escape his lips "Shit" He whispers. My juices drip onto the bed as he continues to stroke me, deep, hard, passionate. "You like that don't you" Roman growls "You like this dick?". My mouth is open but no words come out. "It's mine now huh?" He continues "Tell me it's mine". Our eyes meet again "It's yours!" I squeal

My body gets that warm feeling again before I reach my climax for the second time. Roman quickly pulls out of me as if he knows he's close but isn't quite done yet. My body is shaking with pleasure, Roman let's me catch my breath, standing in front of me. I look at his huge member, still covered in my juices and then at him. I want him in my throat. I crawl over to him and without hesitation I lick his lip. He lets out a quiet groan. I put his tip in my mouth, teasing him just a bit. "Keep it up you'll have cum on that pretty face of yours" He groans, pulling my hair back from my face. "I might like that" I rebuttal.

I slowly take his length into my mouth, Roman releasing a lustful sigh of relief. I open my jaw wide making sure I can fit all of him in my throat. I begin sucking moving my tongue around his pulsating member, sending him into a frenzy. I look up at Roman, just like he did to me earlier. Our eyes meet "Fuck! You're sexy" He growls lustfully. I softly grab his balls massaging them while I continue sucking him off, never breaking eye contact. His eyes full of shock and pleasure... Like he'd never had that done before. "Oh my god you're gonna fuck around and make me fall in love" Roman says, throwing his head back and groaning.

I feel his length start to twitch. I take him out of my mouth and tap the tip on my tongue ready to receive his load. He lets out a loud moan looking me in my eyes again with those cloudy lust filled eyes. He releases his load onto my tongue and in my mouth. I swallow it all without hesitation. His breathing labored. "Fuck Sade" He says breathing heavily. I smirk and stand up "That dick is mine now huh?" I reply. Roman smirks back "If you want it to be" He replies. As much as I wanted to go again, my body wasn't going to allow it. But..... I have access to him whenever I want since we'll be on smackdown together..... And the dick is mine, after all.

#wwe #roman reigns #wwe smut #wwe fic #roman reigns one shot #the bloodline #wwe oc #smut #smut fic #one shot #slow burn

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multiversediaries · 2 years

Text

out of here

elijah mikaelson x reader

summary: that white button up shirt just looked too good on him.

warnings: implied sex, strong language, small smut

oh god.

you bit your lip as you watched your breathtaking husband from a far. your jealousy further increasing whilst you watched women throw themselves at him. i mean, who wouldn’t? after all, it was his birthday, a ball dedicated to him, to celebrate him. of course he deserved all of this attention, yet you couldn’t help but feel envious.

“gosh…” you said in a whisper, while you watched elijah roll up the sleeves of his shirt. he looked so hot. the arousal between your legs growing even further, while you watched your man.

it just have been the way his hands looked. veiny and strong hands holding that small, delicate glass of wine. or maybe that white button up shirt. it hugged his body just perfectly, his muscles accentuated beautifully. perhaps it was the way his jaw would clench once in a while. it was a dangerous view. you kept squeezing your legs together at the sight of elijah.

your eyes widen, whilst you watched a woman place her hands on elijah’s slim chest. you felt your blood begin to boil, watching her making eyes at your husband. you felt yourself cringe watching her sad attempts at seducing elijah. you almost laughed at her. after all, you knew elijah was head over heels in love with you.

see, elijah took years to win you over. you played a bit hard to get. however, he never even thought of giving up. he had to have you. he knew he was in love from the very first time he laid his eyes on you. he knew you were the one made just for him. you were his. you had to be.

he did indeed steal your heart. it was painfully obvious how deadly in love you were with him. sometimes you despise yourself for playing hard to get for so long, but elijah assured you, that now you both have an eternity to make up for it. you would be together until the end of time.

although you knew for a fact that elijah would never even think of another woman, it caused you envy and sometime even insecurity to watch so many gorgeous women throw themselves at him. so watching this woman, with her hands on his chest, and her lips whispering closer to his ear was driving you insane.

you took a deep breath and walked through the crowds of people, soon reaching the bar. you sat down, your smile slowly growing as you watched the other siblings enjoying themselves. your eyes soon went back to your husband, the woman still by his side. you bit your lip, pulling out your phone from your small bag.

to: lover <3 : the more i watch you, the more i think we need to get out of here

you watched elijah grab his phone from his pocket and slightly smirk, reading your text. you found yourself smiling. soon, your phone vibrated.

from: lover <3 : oh, is that so? how come?

you almost laughed at his response. you looked up from your phone, locking eyes with your husband, who only tilted his head at you. you shook your head, a small grin appearing from your lips.

to: lover <3 : i don’t like the way she’s touching you… i don’t blame her though, you look so damn good, ‘lijah

from: lover <3 : do i now, my love?

to: lover <3 : god, yes. you always do! i just can’t wait to have you again tonight. i want you so bad right now

from: lover <3 : gosh, darling. not right now.

to: lover <3 : why? >:( my panties are soaked by just watching you.. thinking of how well you take me, agh i can’t wait

you watched as elijah took a deep breath, adjusting himself. he removed the woman’s hands off him and looked at you, his eyes darker. oh, you were in trouble. you awaited for his response, watching your screen, with a smirk planted on your face, but a message never came. you frowned.

to: lover <3 : i would love to fuck you right here, in front of everyone, until we’re both exhausted. just so people get the message that you’re spoken for :( should we? we can compel them to forget!!

from: lover <3 : be a good girl and wait. stop, y/n.

to: lover <3 : how can i? my imagination is going crazy.. and these heightened emotions too

from: lover <3 : baby, i’ll treat you so well once this is over. behave for now.

you frowned at his last message and took a sip from your glass of champagne. you felt his eyes in you, you knew you had gained his attention and you loved that. you loved the effect you seemed to have on him. you sighed and tried to obey his words. you’ll behave. for now.

—————-

oh god.

that man is so dangerous. you just can’t take your eyes off of him. he seems to be enjoying himself, that makes you happy. he deserves this and so much more. he deserves all the love and happiness in this entire planet. throughout the night, you had the pleasure of meeting some of his old acquaintances. it has always been humorous how elijah is very picky over who he calls his friends, and of course, his lover.

“dance with me, my darling.” you heard someone say behind you. you smiled to yourself as you recognized elijah’s voice. you turned around and took his hand, which lead you into the dance floor. you hissed gently, as his hand laid on your lower waist, holding you close to him.

“a bit aroused, aren’t we?” elijah teased, earning a small smack to his chest. he chuckled softly, his eyes softening at the sight of you, his everything.

“it’s all your fault. how can you be so charming and alluring?” you mumbled, leaning over to rest your head in his strong chest. you felt the vibration of his laughter on his chest.

“i apologize. i promise to treat you soon, my beloved.” elijah promised, his hands pulling your body even closer to his. you felt yourself being lit up in fire.

“soon?— i don’t think i can wait much longer..” you started, your lips just hovering over his. you could feel his breath start to pick up. you smirked softly. “i can only imagine your hands traveling my body, like you always do, along with your mouth.” you continued, elijah tensing at your words. you must be insane.

“and the way you pound into me with all of your might— how good it feels when you come inside of me, claiming me as your own. because i am.” you say, now whispering all of these dirty things in his ear, as both your bodies moved along to the music. you felt elijah’s grip tighten. it must be working.

“darling—” elijah said softly.

“mm? do you want me to stop? i promise i will if you want me to.” you said, looking up to meet his eyes. his pupils dilated and dark, filled with nothing but lust and desire. elijah let out a big breath, shaking his head. you smiled widely, planting a kiss to his cheek, your lips lingering in place. the effect you have on him.

“i’m sorry, ‘lijah. you’re just so breathtaking and i can’t seem to control myself when it comes to you— i just want to have you inside of me. i want to— fuck, i just want you so bad.” you whimpered, truly so horny for your husband. you heard him groan, before grabbing your hand and dragging you through the ballroom.

soon after reaching the bathroom, elijah locked the door, before planting a hungry kiss to your lips, and picking you up from the ground. elijah set you down on the sink, his hands roaming your body desperately. he needed to feel you. you had drove him insane, all night. the way your dress hugged your curves, the way you styled your hair, how you walked, the way you talked, every single think about you was heart stopping to elijah.

“fuck— you just couldn’t wait, huh? needy girl.” elijah mumbled against your lips, before pulling away from the passionate kiss and starting to roll up your dress, and take off your underwear. his mouth watered, he couldn’t stop the moan that left his lips as he noticed how wet you were, just for him.

“shit, darling.” elijah cursed in a whisper.

“we have to be quick, elijah. your guests are waiting.” you said, panting, already exhausted. elijah looked up at you, a bit taken back from your words, his jaw clenched. his hand reached to grab your jaw into his strong hand.

“you’re worried about them?— after you made me like this?” elijah asked, looking down at the bulge in his pants. you whimpered at the view. “oh, baby. i couldn’t care less about any of them, i’m going to fuck you into oblivion.”

“believe me, they can wait.”

#tvd #the originals #the vampire diaries #elijah mikaelson #elijah mikaelson x y/n #elijah mikaelson x reader #elijah mikaelson smut #tvd elijah #elijah x y/n #elijah x reader #the originals smut #tvd smut #smut

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rosewaterandivy · 6 months

Text

iii. drank dry the river lethe

summary: It’s the kindness that undoes you, the mercy in spite of everything that has happened and is happening still.

pairing: s.h. x witch!reader

w.c.: 2.2k

warnings: my blog is 18+ MDNI; vague allusions to magic and the like, carpenter & flannel-wearing Steve, sexual tension, some kissin' and good ol' yearning.

a/n: woof 😮‍💨 thanks for sticking around and waiting for this one! self-edited, all mistakes are my own. shout-out to the fic playlist (linked below) for getting me through this. i'm wishing the happiest of birthdays to @big-ope-vibes - love you & hope you don’t hate me too much for this 🥺

Nota bene: Reblogging, commenting, and liking my work is always appreciated! Reposting, however, is not. Enjoy! 💜

series masterlist | playlist | currently spinning:

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” You gasp, his rough hands falling to cradle your hips. You can see puffs of breath as they leave your open, panting mouth.

The storm rages on outside, a crisp chill settling in the shop and creeping along your skin. But Steve is warm and you can’t help but arch into him on instinct, seeking anything to ease the shiver in your bones.

He hums, as if in thought, eyes studying you— the heaving of your chest, jumping pulse, hands draped around his collar. Despite what you’d just said, your body language implies the opposite. Subtly, your hips cant upward, back arching imperceptibly as your chest grazes his. Erratic breaths fall from his lips.

“You think so?”

His voice is a low rasp, a lick of heat curls up your spine and you’re already having trouble breathing with any sense of regularity under his scrutiny. Because he’s doing that thing again— when he looks at you with such vulnerability that it nearly breaks your heart in two. People don’t look at you that way, it’s usually tinged with desire or derision but nothing so tender as how Steve is looking at you now.

Take a breath and concentrate on the rain.

He watches as you screw your eyes shut and take big grasping breaths in and out. You think of those women who walked the bluestone path for love, how you pitied them, swore never to become them. Nothing good comes from a good heart or soft touch, oh no, not for you. Memories come like flashes of scattered light then— your mom and dad slow dancing in the kitchen, him serenading her and peppering her face with kisses, her laughter and poor attempts to bat him away.

Not since then had you felt like this— a tightness inside your throat and belly and chest, a heat, not unpleasant so much as wholly unfamiliar, radiating outward from the center of your body and rushing through your veins.

Something was very wrong indeed.

No longer balanced by logic, you feel weightless anchored solely by the warm and calloused hands of the carpenter. Thinking about him, his worried look, and sincere gaze makes you even more nervous. You feel like someone who’s stepped outside of life and into a stretch of woods you’d never seen before and you don’t know the paths or trails.

You’d spent your entire life following one cardinal rule: don’t fall in love— you’d stayed vigilant, used logic and good sense. Taken every precaution, taken care of everything from the bills to the laundry, which, when it hangs on the line is whiter than snow.

But the way Steve is looking at you, so patient and tender, you love it and hate it at the same time. Makes you want to come clean and let loose for once. Your eyes dart to his tongue as he wets his lips, a line of heat skittering beneath your skin. It’s invisible, but it’s there. That’s how desire is, it assails you in a parking lot and wins every time.

The tension is so bad that it feels as though it were at least a hundred degrees inside the shop. Your hands fall from his shoulders to his chest, a poor attempt to curb your desires. In the descent, your nail drags against a thin gold chain around his neck leaving whispery scores that draw along his skin and pull a soft hiss from him.

Steve sounds positively wrecked and looks even more shattered now than before. You’re the one, and he knows it. Under certain circumstances, he might be willing to give up everything for you. He might be willing to leap headlong into the chasm he feels coming up, without considering how fast he’s falling or how brutal the moment of impact might be.

Tentatively, you reach out to comb his hair back from where it’d fallen in his face, hot right down to your fingertips. Steve’s staring at you the way he did back in the storeroom, you can feel his intentions and torment both, in equal measure; you’re well aware of what he wants.

You want it as well.

Tonight under your gaze with the whipping wind and rain outside, Steve feels like he’s stumbled into love, and now he’s stuck here in the anguish of it. He’s fairly used to not getting what he wants, and he’s dealt with it, but he can’t help but wonder if that’s only because he didn’t want anything badly enough.

Well, he does now.

In the darkest depths of his memory, the recollections that tortured him under a nightmarish guise, Steve remembers holding on for something. Be it the kids, or Robin, or Nance— a bone-weary sense of survival; to pull and thrash and fight for another day, getting Dustin out of there in one piece, and dragging Eddie out of the Upside Down, even though he felt about ready to give up and give in right then and there.

And now, looking at you in a shop a world away from the hell that was Hawkins and the Upside Down, it all falls into place. He wasn’t holding out for something, but someone. Steve knows he should go, has crossed one too many boundaries for comfort tonight, but the hitch is, he doesn’t want to go. He’d rather be here, looking at you bathed in candlelight and watching the steady rise and fall of your breaths than weather another storm alone— his desire is so bad he doesn’t know if he could stand up straight.

His eyes are burning hot, and he knows he can never stop himself if he’s going to cry. Better to not even try, or at least that’s what Rob always says.

“Oh, don’t,” You say, moving closer to him pulled by gravity and forces you couldn’t begin to control.

“It’s fine,” He sniffs as the tears trail down his cheeks, “I just do this sometimes,” Steve says in that sad, deep voice. He shakes his head, like he can’t believe this is his life. This time he’d prefer to do almost anything but cry. “Ignore me.”

But you don’t. You can’t help yourself. Shifting toward him, meaning to wipe away at his tears, but instead loop your arms around his neck, and once you do that, he holds you closer.

It’s music when he says your name, a sound that’s absurdly beautiful in his mouth, but you don’t pay attention. You’ve spent enough time on the back stairs of the aunt’s house to know that most things men say are lies. Don’t listen, you tell yourself. None of it’s true and none of it matters, because Steve’s whispering that he’s been looking for you forever.

Everything happens in sweet slow motion from there.

You’re halfway to climbing him like a tree, scrambling for purchase along his arms and chest. His hands move from your hips and a breathy whimper escapes your throat. Steve mollifies your fit of pique with a bite to his lip, pulling it taut as his hands wrap around your thighs to pick you up. Your hips slide home, pressing against him as he carries you to the till— his hands are so hot on your skin you can’t believe it.

Can’t think, or listen to a word he says because if you do, you might think better of it.

He sets you down gently on the wooden counter, hands roaming your skin— under your sweater, along the band of your leggings— and still you don’t stop him. When his lips finally meet yours, you bite him accidentally, so eager and impatient. He laughs into your mouth, angling your lips up to slant against his. Your eyes flutter shut and let his kiss devour you, the clacking of teeth, brushes of tongues, and guttural groans.

This is what it must feel like to be crazy, you find yourself thinking, as Steve moves against you. Delirious under his attention, you want the heat he’s making you feel; you, who can’t function without directions and a map, want to get lost right now— to get lost in him. You can feel yourself giving into his fervent touches; you’re ready to do just about anything as long as his fingers keep pressing against you, stoking the fever in your veins.

Everything you’re doing is so unlike your usual self that when you catch sight of your image in the a nearby window you’re stunned. It’s a woman who could fall in love if she let herself, a woman who doesn’t stop Steve when he lifts your hair up and away so he can press his mouth to hollow of your throat.

Out of the corner of your eye, there’s a flicker, and you can see your reflection raise a brow in interest. She inclines her head minutely as if to ask, Really? while crossing her arms in front of her chest.

What? You mouth back, trying desperately to fall back into the reality of Steve’s sweltering hold on your body, the praises that fall like raindrops from his mouth only to evaporate upon hitting your scorched skin.

What is wrong with you? Your mirror-self volleys back, all knowing glances and quirked lips.

Beyond flustered and frustrated you bite back with a vehement, I don’t know!

And as quickly as she appeared, your mirror-self is gone with a flicker and a wave. Maybe that’s something to consider, what exactly are you doing here? What good would it do for you to get involved with someone like Steve—to break the one rule you had? You’d have to feel like this, half-wild and at the whims of your desires, all of the time. You’d have to feel so much, and you’re not that kind, not really. You could never muster an ounce of sympathy for those miserable, irrational women who came to the aunt’s backdoor, nor could you stand to be one of them now, overrun with grief, rendered inconsolable with what some would call love.

You pull away from Steve, out of breath, mouth hot and the rest of you burning. You’ve managed to exist this long without; you can keeping doing it. Just make yourself go cold, from the inside out. The rain is letting up now, the sky as dark as a moonless night. In the east, thunder sounds as the storm moves in from the sea.

“We should stop,” You bring yourself to say, though it cleaves something deep inside of you.

Steve halts his ministrations, and the wounded look on his face is worse than the fissure in your chest. The words taste bitter and cruel, but you can’t allow yourself to care. You need to put a stop to this before the option is no longer your own. Before the possibility of what you could feel for him takes hold and traps you, like those women on the bluestone path at twilight.

“This was a mistake.”

His lips form your name, a hoarse murmur followed by a grim smile. “I can fix it,” He says, seeing how you tuck yourself away, bit by bit, right before his very eyes. “Please, let me fix it,” He pleads, voice strained.

A slow shake of your head to dash his hopes once and for all, “You should go.” Your voice sounds like a broken, hollow thing.

At this moment, Steve wishes he was a weaker man— that he could somehow reach out and grab the part of you that he’d briefly held in his hands, and force you, at least until you gave in. Because it was there, he felt it and you did too, that ineffable spark of recognition. He’d like to make love to you right here, he’d like to do it all night and not give a damn about anything else. But he’s not that kind of man, and he never will be. He’s seen too many lives go wrong when a man allows himself to be led around by his dick. Steve has always understood why people give in and do as they please with no thought of anyone else. Their minds shut off, and he’s not going to do that, even if it means he won’t get what he really wants.

He sighs your name, and it causes you more anguish than you could have ever imagined possible. It’s the kindness that undoes you, the mercy in spite of everything that has happened and is happening still.

But Steve, for all his wanting and heartache, stands up and takes a step back. You make yourself look over his shoulder and keep your gaze there; you don’t dare look at him.

“Eddie will, uh, finish the job.”

You clench your hands into the worn wood beneath you and nod.

Steve gathers his tools and sets them on the counter for Eddie to find tomorrow. And even if you don’t look, you know he hasn’t yet walked away. This is the way is has to be— removed forever, distant as the stars, unhurt and untouched forever and ever. He closes the door when he leaves and it takes everything in you to not turn to see, because if you did, you’d discover how much you want him, for all the good it would ever do you.

But he does watch you as he gets back into the cab of his truck out in front of the shop. Steve combs his wet hair back with his fingers and, for a moment, the whole cab smells like rain. As best as he can understand it, the greatest portion of grief is the one you dish out for yourself, and the both of you have served yourselves from the same table tonight, the only difference being that he knows what he’s missing, and you have no idea what’s causing you to cry as you sit in the cold and empty dark.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fluff #stranger things fanfic #Spotify

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