#do you think that when they started to seek out pain? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thisgirlnamedblusy · 2 days

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Hey, I really like your story so keep up the good work. Can you do a story about gardener turned maid x Donna. She and Donna were childhood friends, (y/n) always plays with Donna when she was a child. (y/n) also has a hard pass, she was only adopted by the previous gardener but never really took care of her but she sees him as her father anyway. (y/n) is always alone and seeks solace around Donna. When Donna's parents died she shut herself out and which made her feel even more alone. But then the lady got out and asked if she could ve her maid. This is also and excuse to be close to her again because she always admired and loved (y/n) from afar. They got closed again then (y/n) stole a kiss from Donna. Donna got angry and left. They haven't talk for days but she confess to her that she loves (y/n) as well. They were happy until one time (y/n) felt a pain in her chest, it's so painful that she loss consciousness while tending the garden, Donna became worried and took her to her room. (y/n) woke up and looked at herself in the mirror, what she saw is horrible. A giant lump is growing on her chest and some nerves are visible from it to the neck and it's dark. Donna told her it was a cadou. (y/n) demanded answers from her and Donna just told her everything what mother miranda told her during her implantation and that it's been killing her to keep that from her lover. She wanted to confront miranda to get some answers on her own. Donna told her it wasn't a good idea because she will die. Then night came and (y/n) and kissed Donna goodbye while she's asleep because there is was never really a happy ending for the both of them. She confronted miranda to get some answers, they fought while miranda was telling her that she was a failed experiment.

Good ending - Donna found her and treated her wounds and they were together again

Bad ending - Donna found her body the next day dead. Years later she still mourned for her and that she slowly looses her sanity because of it.

Note: I'm sorry it is very long but I trust that you could make a story out of this and also English isn't my first language either. And write both of the ending to give the readers some perspective about the 2 endings. Thank you

Yess!!! It's a very good plot, thank you!!! Well, I don't like bad endings, so I chose the good one. You said that you wanted the two of them and... Well, I'm going to post it later if you're okay with that!!! Anyway, thank you for your request!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!! :))))

The friend you were used to be

Pairing: Donna Benviento x Fem! Reader

Warnings: angst, dark themes, mentions of abuse, Donna being Donna, fluff, blood, Cadou, Reader POV

Word count: 10,077

Summary: Sometimes life is so unfair...

N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!! Requests are open, I'm waiting for yours!! I love you all!!! :)))

The pain is almost unbearable. My hands are unable to contain the blood that flows from my wound. I scream, I cry, but no one listens to me, there is no one in this dark place. Thinking that it would be the day of my death does not scare me, I was the one who went to that place. It was me who chose the day of my death, and not her. With an exhausting effort, I manage to turn around and look at the full moon through the rubble of the underground cathedral.

“Such a magnificent view,” I say, closing my eyes, breathing in pain. My bandages are torn and my soul is condemned. How did I get here? Why did my life have to end like this?

Pointless questions when the darkness is so close. I once heard someone say that when you were about to die, you might be able to see your life flashing before your eyes. It's certainly not something I feel like doing. If I have to die, let it be remembering you, my love, the only light that made me keep hope. But I feel the need to go back, to when this started...

20 years ago…

“And then I found a cave with a lot of strange black trees,” I said, talking about that little walk around the village.

“A cave?” My friend, Donna, asked, listening to me curiously while we played tea with her doll.

“Yes, yes, a huge and very deep cave,” I reaffirmed, pretending to take a sip from my empty toy cup.

It was an afternoon like many others, at the house of my friend, my only friend, Donna Beneviento.

My father, or rather, the man who called himself my father, worked for her family as a gardener. We lived isolated on the grounds of the Beneviento estate, almost as long as I can remember. Apparently, I was adopted shortly after birth.

I didn't care much about my origin either, not even that this man, Josef, didn't bother to pretend that he loved me. There was only one thing I liked to do, and that was to spend the afternoons with Donna.

She was four years older than me, she was 12 and I was 8. Despite that difference, nothing prevented us from playing with the dolls, talking, or laughing, like girls, like real friends. I couldn't blame her for seeking refuge in my friendship. She had her own problems. According to my father, she was an isolated, lonely and strange girl, who never left the grounds, who never spoke to anyone.

Maybe it was because of the lack of her right eye, which left a striking scar on her face, or maybe it was because she simply wasn't interested in humans. Whatever the case, Donna and I were friends. She needed me, and I needed her.

“So… What happened to you?” Donna asked, well, Angie, the doll that her father made for Donna so that she wouldn't feel so terribly alone. She was one more friend, even if it was only imagination.

“Well, I tripped, fell on a rock and fainted,” I said, putting my hand to the area of my chest that was still burning.

“You fainted?” The brunette asked, lying on the floor with her hands on her chin, listening attentively to my story.

I nodded, lying down too.

“I was unconscious for hours, until I woke up, outside the cave.”

“That's a lie!” Angie screamed, to which I clearly got angry.

“It's not a lie,” I protested in a childish manner, of course.

“Do you have any proof?” the older girl asked, looking at me suspiciously.

“Well yes, I have proof,” I said, showing the strange scar on my chest. “Look, Donna…”

“Wow... Does it hurt ?” She asked, reaching out towards the scar, changing distrust for curiosity. I shook my head, covering myself again.

“Sometimes,” I said, feeling good about the attention I had drawn from my friend.

“Donna, è l'ora delle tue lezioni,” Mrs. Beneviento's voice interrupted us, making Donna grimace in disgust.

“Ma mamma, stavo giocando con (Y/N)” the older girl protested, getting up and picking Angie up from its small chair.

“No complaints, Donna, besides, (Y/N)'s father will be worried, it's late,” the adult woman said, pointing to me. I woke up a little disappointed because of how short the afternoon had been. “Go home, it's getting dark and it’s dangerous.”

I protested with my eyes and nodded. After all, my father's job depended on them.

“Yes, ma'am,” I said politely, bowing my head respectfully. Donna's mother smiled tenderly at me, putting a hand on my back to guide me out.

“(Y/N),” the girl called to me, holding Angie in her arms. “Will you come tomorrow?”

“Sure,” I said, smiling as she said goodbye to me with a shy wave of her hands.

I wish I had known. I wish I had known that would be the last time I would play with my friend Donna. The next day I didn't go to her house, she didn't come to see me. That same night, something terrible happened.

Donna's parents died, both of them, jumping off the cliff that was right next to her house. Terrible, unexpected news.'

I remember the funeral…I remember how Donna couldn't stop crying.

A 12-year-old girl didn't have to have experienced that, it was unfair.

The following days were even worse. My father told me that Donna needed to be alone. Alone? A 12 year old girl alone in that big house? My mind couldn't understand it. As Donna's only friend, as an 8-year-old who wants to see her friend smile, I headed there for weeks.

“Donna, let's play,” I said, knocking on the door, waiting for an answer that wasn't a sob.

“I don't want to play,” a broken voice came from inside the house. “Go away, (Y/N)”

“Come on, Donna, please... Being alone is so boring. Look, I brought Mr. Whiskers, Angie's boyfriend. I'm sure she missed him,” I said in a childish, almost pleading voice. I couldn't lose Donna. It may have been a selfish feeling but, after all, I was only 8 years old.

“I don't want to play with you!” Donna screamed, desperate, which made me squeeze the doll tightly in my hands. “Go away!”

It didn't matter how many times I insisted, how many times I cried begging for a little time with her. I didn't see her again. Donna forgot about me, but I never, ever forgot about her.

Little by little I got used to her absence, to my loneliness. The months, the years passed slowly and I grew up alone, next to a man who didn’t take care of me, always leading my gaze to that place to which I never returned.

14 years ago…

“Father!” I screamed, covering my face with my hands. The blizzard intensified and made to walk properly impossible for me. “Hurry, we have to protect the house!”

It had been 6 years since I last saw Donna. She was a woman, not a girl. 14 years was not too many, but it was enough for new feelings to appear to torment me. Envy corroded me...

During all that time, only my father had been lucky enough to get close to the Beneviento estate, only he was allowed to take care of Donna. No matter how much I insisted, I couldn't do it. My father said that she was a strange girl, that it wasn't good for me to be around or disturb her, that Donna was only his responsibility, and not mine.

I tried to escape several times, stupidly thinking that I would be able to see her again, to talk to her after so many years. I didn't do it, I couldn't do it.

But that afternoon there were other problems to worry about. A terrible blizzard hit the place mercilessly, causing us to have to reinforce our house, nailing wooden planks to the windows.

“Stay here!” My father shouted, when he nailed the last plank.

“No, father, don't go!” I said, grabbing his arm.

“I have to see if Miss Donna is safe! Obey, (Y/N)!” He ordered me, breaking away from my grip and causing me to fall to the ground.

“Father, wait!” I shouted, standing up as best I could.

Donna could be in danger. That was the only thing I thought about as I crawled through the snow, feeling thousands of ice blades dig into my skin. I could barely walk for a few minutes. The road was blurry. There was no sign of my father, I wasn't even able to tell where I tripped and fell again, sinking into the snow.

“Help!” I shouted. It was useless. My screams were drowned out by the wind, by the snow, by the nervous crows trying to take shelter.

My vision cleared and then… Then I saw it.

A black figure was walking towards me. It looked like a woman, or something like a woman. Her walk was slow, elegant. She was carrying something in her arms. No, not something, it was someone. When she got close enough, my heart almost stopped.

Mother Miranda, protector of the village, its supreme authority, was right in front of me. The priestess clothing stood out against the snow, the golden tones of her mask made her look like a bird, something similar to a crow. In her arms, there was a young woman. Someone I couldn't recognize until she was too close.

That scar, that black hair… Donna Beneviento.

The one who was once my best friend was resting in Miranda's arms. She seemed unconscious, or something worse.

I tried to move, to reach out my hand towards her, but the cold prevented me to do so. The priestess's footsteps were already distinguishable on the ground. It was impossible for her not to have seen me.

She walked past me, carrying Donna in her arms. The blizzard didn't seem to be a problem for her at all.

"Donna..." I sighed, crawling a little as the figure slowly moved away from me. Miranda paused, perhaps out of pity, perhaps out of annoyance. She didn't help me, I barely felt her gaze on mine. What I did feel was her smile through that golden mask.

Miranda looked at me and I looked at her. Her figure remained completely oblivious to the snow and Donna seemed nothing but a dead weight in her arms.

I could hear her laughter, even today I would be able to swear that a terrible laugh came from the priestess. Slowly, she turned her head away from me again walking down the path. It had been 6 years without seeing Donna and I still wanted to save her, attack the priestess and take her to a safe place.

Miranda was good, or so they said. I never believed it. Seeing her was just a bad omen.

As time went by, I began to believe that this was just a dream, a mirage that the blizzard created for me. I soon realized that it was not.

“Adopted?” I asked, at one of the silent meals with my father. The man who didn't love me nodded, enjoying the food he forced me to make for him.

“Mother Miranda has taken pity on Miss Donna, she is her daughter now,” he explained, already drinking her second glass of wine.

“I don't understand. When I saw her, she seemed unconscious, she seemed...”

“Are you questioning Mother Miranda?” The man asked, abruptly, hitting the table with his fist. I backed away scared. In recent years, the behavior of the man who claimed to be my father had become unsustainable.

“No, father, I'm just saying that...”

“Shut your mouth and bring more wine! Don't dare to question Mother Miranda, (Y/N), not in this house.”

I nodded, with tears in my eyes. I still didn't understand anything. I still had a lot of unanswered questions. At least Donna was fine, better than ever according to my father. That's what he said. It had been too long since I had seen her, too long...

12 years ago…

Life continued its course. I, already 16 years old, had become accustomed to solitude, to the few pieces of the outside world that Josef told me about. That man was never my father. I would no longer call him as such. Hits, screams and beatings those were the summary of my existence, too much for a young girl like me.

I had no news about Donna. I didn't know what had happened to her, why Miranda had adopted her. I didn't know anything and the worst thing... The worst thing was that I cared less and less. Surviving Josef's wrath was the most important thing.

“You are a worthless girl!” The man shouted, hitting me hard on the cheek. “You are worthless!”

“Father, please, please, stop...” I begged crying, falling to the floor.

Alcoholism took away the little that was left of humanity in him. That morning, the idea of getting out of there was more present in my mind than ever.

“You will never be my family!” He shouted, stating a truth that I already knew. He had a family, his family died, he adopted me. That was the sum of his demons. I would never be his daughter. He would never be my father.

“I don't want to be your family!” I screamed furiously, struggling with his arms so he wouldn't hit me again. Taking advantage of his obvious state of intoxication, I managed to push him, to throw him to the floor with a thud.

“Stupid little girl...” He hissed, just when I was able to stand up. “You are going to pay for this!”

Josef pounced on me, ready to end everything, to kill me, to make me pay for having had to take care of me all those years. I, for the second time in my life, thought that it was the end, that it was the end of my disastrous life.

Just when his hands were about to make me gasp for breath, his gaze went from fury to bewilderment, relaxing his attempt to strangle me.

“Liza...” He murmured, as if he had heard something, as if someone had spoken to him. “Where are you?”

“What?” I asked, catching my breath.

Josef left the house like a wandering soul, looking for something that apparently only he was able to see.

“Yes... I will meet you,” the man said, walking towards the old estate, with a lost look.

It could have been a good opportunity to disappear from that place, but I didn't. Something strange was happening to Josef.

“Father?” I asked, trying in vain to put a hand on his shoulder, which he pushed away with a grunt.

“I'm coming, Liza…” He murmured again. “Yes, at the waterfall.”

“Waterfall?” I asked, scared by what that meant. “Father, wait…”

My attempt to stop him was even worse. He turned around, pushing me to the ground roughly. The only thing I could do was to watch as that man disappeared into the fog.

I sat under a tree, thinking about why I would want to save my father, who wasn't my father. I guess I was always stupid. I breathed relief and cried at the same time. For some reason, I knew I would never see him again.

When I raised my head from my knees, something scared me. A hand, a pale hand extended towards me. It was attached to a woman's body, dressed entirely in black, from head to toe, wearing a strange veil that hid her face.

The smell of her lavender and the softness of her hands were enough to know who I had in front of me. Donna.

I sobbed and used her hand to get up.

“It's all over, (Y/N)” a hoarse voice that came out of that veil whispered. It had nothing to do with that sweet voice from years ago. She was already a woman.

“What?” I said confused, blinking several times to make sure that what I was seeing was real, that Donna Beneviento, missing for years, was in front of me. “Donna… Is that you?”

The woman nodded slowly, moving away from my arm, which reached out toward her as if trying to fulfill a wish, something I had hoped to do for years.

“My God... Donna,” I sobbed, unable to contain all that torrent of feelings I felt when I saw her again, throwing myself into her arms. “It has been so long…”

She didn't hug me back, she just gasped in surprise, going completely still.

“(Y/N),” she whispered, again with that hoarse voice, forcing me to move away from her. I cried, I cried with emotion, with joy at seeing my only friend again.

“I thought... I thought you had... Oh, my goodness, Donna...” I stammered, remembering all the moments I had lived with her, all the laughter, the games, the teas with the Angie doll. My entire childhood was before my eyes.

“You're safe now,” she said, clearing her throat, with that same stoic pose, without making the slightest gesture to reflect that she was also happy to see me.

After a deep sigh, the woman in black turned around, ready to leave, to abandon me again. I couldn't allow it.

“Donna, wait, wait please,” I said, running after her, grabbing her arm. She stopped, but she didn't turn to look at me. “Please, please tell me, tell me what happened to you, why haven't you come to see me in all these years?”

She didn't respond, she just kept walking, slipping out of my grasp.

“Donna, please... Tell me what...” I said standing in front of her again. That horrible black veil made me shiver. “Why are you covering your face? What is that…?” I asked, taking one of my hands towards the woman in black.

I hissed in pain as her hand clamped down on my wrist, squeezing it too tightly.

“Donna, you're hurting me,” I protested, moving my hand away definitively. “My God, what happened to you? Josef told me that Mother Miranda….”

“Mother Miranda saved me,” the lady in black interrupted, releasing me, moving further away from me.

“What has she done to you, Donna? You don't seem like yourself...” I murmured, confused, surprised and disappointed at the same time.

“You know nothing about me” She said, now, turning around to turn her back on me again.

“You were my friend! My only friend!” I shouted, when she was far enough away.

“And you were mine, (Y/N)” she responded with a dark voice, looking at me over her shoulder.

“So what's going on? Why can't we just...? Wait...” I said, realizing something I had overlooked. Josef, I had forgotten about Josef. “What have you done to him? What have you done to my father?”

“He won't bother you anymore, (Y/N),” Donna responded, speaking naturally, ignoring what that statement implied. “Besides, he was never your father.”

“I... I don't... You don't...” I stammered. I was not old enough to take on all that stuff at once. Donna continued walking, disappearing again from my sight, from my life...

6 months ago…

12 years. 12 years have passed since the man who claimed to be my father disappeared. At first I didn't know what to do, how to act. I was too young to get out of there. I was too young to know what to do.

Donna didn't come back, I never heard from her again. I had two options: get out of there, escape from the village and never look back. The other one was... Different. My other option was to stay there, in that house, on those grounds. Alone, but free from Josef's yoke. I had no job, no family, and my only friend had built a huge wall between us.

In those 12 years I didn't see her, at least not physically. Sometimes, when I was trying to sleep, when I spent time tending the small orchard or the small garden that surrounded my house, I could feel a presence, as if someone was watching me.

I called her several times, knowing that it could only be her, that only Donna could be there. I never saw her, never, in 12 long years of loneliness.

I couldn't complain. I had a house, I could grow my food and I didn't lack the heat of the fire or the water from the old well. A sad, lonely life. Fortunately, I was already used to the crackling of the fire being my only company.

“Come on, come on...” I said grunting, holding the old wooden bookshelf I was trying to repair.

The house was falling apart, but I managed: I fixed cracks, covered windows... I was aware that this whole adventure would end the moment when, like in the story, someone blew and blew and my house would fell down. But it was not the time to accept reality, to assume that my life was never going to improve.

Every night, I struggled with the idea of not continuing to suffer, of ending what would have no solution.

“Shit!” I screamed furiously, dropping the wooden shelf as I hit my finger with the hammer in a comical way. Everything on the shelf fell apart. “Great, great, (Y/N)…” I murmured, leaning my head against the wall, suppressing the urge to tear down the house with my own hands.

“You keep it...” a familiar whisper made me open my eyes and turn around.

It was her, Donna, her black dress, her black veil, her dark figure before me after 12 years. I had to think if I was asleep or awake. Lady Beneviento remained still, behind me, holding the old doll that her father gave me on my seventh birthday.

“Donna...” I sighed confusedly, with my eyes wide open. “You…”

“What was his name?” She asked, making me shake my head and frown. 12 years old, Donna, 12 years old and all you're asking me what was the name of that stupid doll.

“It was Mr...” I murmured quietly, my hands shaking, not knowing how I was supposed to act seeing her again, just when I had assumed for years that Donna was nothing but a ghost from my past.

“Mr. Whiskers... Now I remember him. He was Angie's boyfriend,” she said, speaking with a tone that made me think she was smiling. 12 years and I couldn't even see her face.

“Yes... You remember it,” I said trembling, taking the doll from her hands, making the wooden limbs move to the rhythm of my trembling body.

“Yes, I remember when my father gave it to you. It was a funny birthday party,” the woman in black confirmed, walking towards the table where I used to eat. “I'm sure Angie would be happy to see him after so long.”

“Angie...” I sighed, shaking my head. I knew that Donna wasn't right in the head. I had known that since I was a little girl. I never gave it importance but... Hearing about Angie in that way, after so many years, from the mouth of an adult woman, made me stay alert.

“Don't worry, I left her at home, she won't bother you,” Donna murmured, sitting in the chair with a melancholic air around her.

“Donna, I...” I said, approaching, leaving Mr. Whiskers on the table. I still couldn't believe she was really there. “What are you doing here?”

“I want to talk to you, (Y/N)” she said with a soft tone, looking around her, observing the place where I lived.

“To me? After 12 years without talking to me, do you want to do it now?” I couldn't stop the fury from leaving my body. If only she knew how lonely I was all that time. At first I was sad, but later that feeling transformed into helplessness, and, over time, into apathy.

“I know it's been a long time and...” Donna started to say, but she was interrupted by my hand hitting the table hard, reminding me of that man who claimed to be my father.

“A long time? It was an eternity, Donna. Do you know how long I've wanted to see you again? Do you know how lonely I was after you locked yourself in that house? You were my only friend, and you abandoned me,” I said furiously.

“I don't...” She murmured, getting nervous, playing with the black fabric of her dress.

I took a deep breath and reached out to her face.

“What is this, huh? Why do you cover your face? What the hell are you…?” I asked while, after avoiding her attempts to stop me, I managed to remove the black cloth from her face, turning pale when I saw it. “Hiding…”

Donna stayed quiet, with a cold look on her face as I took in what she was seeing, shaking my head. The age was already evident on her face. Her features were no longer that of a girl, they were that of a woman... A beautiful woman, without a doubt, the most beautiful I had ever seen. She no longer had anything to do with that girl with whom I used to play hide and seek.

One horrible detail stood out from the rest of her features. That scar, that eye that was taken from her in an accident when she was barely 4 years old was no longer there, nor was there anything similar to that small scar.

A prominent, bulging abscess filled part of her face. I had never seen anything like it. But, although it was something horrible it was not so terrible as to hide or shadow her beauty in the slightest. Beauty? My loneliness was starting to take its toll on me.

“Gods...” I murmured, ignoring her incipient nervousness, her pathetic attempts to retrieve the veil from my hands. “Donna, what happened to you? Your face is…”

“Horrible, I know. Give it back to me,” she demanded, leaning over the table to reach her veil. I, still horrified and enthralled by her beauty, obeyed her, making her cover herself as quickly as she could.

“No, I...” I said, trying to fix the situation, wondering what terrible thing had happened. The answer was hidden in a dark corner of my mind. “It was her, right? Miranda did that to you.”

“You have no idea, (Y/N),” Donna hissed, adjusting her veil. “She…”

“Yes, she saved you. I already know that story,” I said with a superb tone, sitting in front of her and crossing my arms.

“It's impossible for you to understand,” Donna said in a dark tone, revealing a small embarrassing sob.

“You're right, Donna. I don't understand you, I don't understand anything. I don't know what that woman did to you. I don't understand what you're doing here after so many years.”

“I want to talk to you,” she said, with her hands trembling on the table. My eyes couldn't stop looking at them, at those pale, soft hands, those hands that saved me from death years ago.

“What do you want to talk about? Are you going to tell me why you haven't deigned to appear here in more than ten years?” I asked, tears threatening to run down my cheeks.

“Now I’m a Lord. I serve Mother Miranda,” The lady in black explained, ignoring my questions. I shouldn't have been surprised.

“You mean you sold your soul to that witch,” I corrected, risking seeing Josef's attitude in her. I didn't want to. I didn't want to see her that way.

“I'm not trying to convince you to understand me, (Y/N),” Donna said in a calmer tone, shifting her gaze away from mine.

“So what do you want?” I asked immediately, suppressing the urge to kick the table and throw myself at her neck to demand answers.

“My new siblings think that someone like me needs a maid,” she explained without any problem, without hesitation. That phrase made me burn with rage and laugh mockingly.

“What?”

“I don't know anyone else and I had thought that...” She continued speaking, with a tremor in her voice, probably because of my attitude.

“I don't believe you, Donna. I don't think you're asking me... Do you want me to serve you? It can't be true...” I said with a sarcastic smile, with all my emotions fighting to come out.

“I don't want you to serve me, (Y/N),” she said. “That's just a formality.”

“A formality...” I repeated, increasingly confused. “I mean, you come after 12 years to talk to me, to ask me to be your maid or something... But you say it's just a formality... Donna... You better speak clearly before I lose my patience,” I said, perhaps taking too many freedoms. The idea that Donna Beneviento was now one of the four pillars that supported Miranda's dominance was terrifying, but not enough to overshadow how important she was in my life.

“I don't want to be alone,” she said with her head down, letting her words come out with a sigh, making my gaze stop being so cold. I recognized that tone, that sincere tone that I had heard before, a long time ago.

“You've been alone for a long time,” I said, trying not to lose the firmness of my attitude. “Me too.”

“That's why I want... I want you to come with me, to my house. I will no longer be alone and neither will you,” Donna said, pleading, sobbing almost desperately.

I shook my head, wondering if it was an idea to consider. She was my best friend, the only company I had when I was a child but... But for years she was nothing, not even a shadow, not even the presence that watched me secretly.

“No, Donna,” I answered, avoiding looking at her face, not knowing how much I could last without throwing myself into her arms and telling her how much I had missed her. “I'm sorry, but you will have to find another maid.”

“I want you to be my maid,” the woman in black sighed, angry at your response. At that moment I started to get a bit scared.

“I've already told you that... No. Look, it took me a long, long time to come to terms with the idea that you were no longer with me, that you no longer wanted my friendship. You can't come after so many years and ask me to live with you. I don't know what happened to you, I don't know what's wrong with your damn head to believe that after so much time, I'll still be waiting for you.”

“But, (Y/N)... Do you really prefer to stay here rather than come with me?” Donna asked, her voice broken by the crying I was not able to see behind the black fabric of her veil.

I nodded, letting the tears wet my skin.

“Yeah, this isn't so bad, you know?” I said cockily, getting up from the chair and extending my arms so that she could look at my house. “At least I have a roof, food and water. I don’t need anything else. I don't need your false compassion. I don't need you Donna... Not anymore. I wouldn't go with you even if the roof co...”

A loud creak, a tremor in the house, silenced me. The snowfall of the last few days had been difficult to control. I knew I had to do it, that I had to remove the snow from the roof but… For some reason, I didn't, and part of the roof collapsed behind me.

“Collapses...” I sighed stunned, putting my hands on my head. At that moment I realized that to deceive fate was impossible. We all have a path in life. And mine was hers, next to her.

“Will you come with me?” Donna asked, with her hand on her chest, scared by that noise. That collapse that was very timely for her, of course.

“Shit...” I whispered, shaking my head, squeezing my eyes very tightly, wanting to wake up from that nightmare. “I guess I have no choice.”

I packed everything I needed for several days and followed the mourning woman towards her house, towards the old house where I once laughed with her, when everything seemed easier.

“Hello, hello...” A shrill voice woke me up from the wave of memories that came to my mind when I entered that house. It couldn't be possible. The Angie doll stood up on its own. It almost gave me a heart attack.

“What the…?” I asked, surrounding the puppet, which followed me with its gaze. “No, it can't be... Is it a trick?”

I approached Donna, removing the veil from her face to look for the origin of that bad joke.

“What trick, stupid?” the doll asked, climbing into the arms of its owner.

Her lips didn't move like they used to when she was a child. She wasn't using her ventriloquism. Angie lived, it really lived...

5 months ago…

It was difficult, it was really difficult, but I ended up adapting to that house. That environment was so familiar and comforting. It helped me a lot. To say that I was a maid was an exaggeration. I barely cleaned or cooked. All I did was to be there, to keep Donna company.

At first everything was very cold. I felt unable to forgive her abandonment, her betrayal, but, little by little, we began to talk again, without resentment, with that black veil increasingly absent.

Having someone by your side was a feeling that I had already forgotten. Maybe that's why I started to feel things, things that I was ashamed of. I started to see Donna as a friend again. I started to want to get closer to her, to wait until it was time for dinner to stand in front of her in silence.

Without wanting to, I fell in love with her, without wanting to remember why I liked being with her so much, why I was waiting for her for so long.

“Oh, but the office joke was better...” I said amused, taking a sip from my glass of wine, enjoying a late-night chat. Wine, lavender, Donna. Nothing could make me happier at that moment.

“You mean when we put Angie under the desk?” Donna asked, amused, raising her legs to the sofa where you were lying.

“Exactly... It was fun,” I said with a mischievous look, feeling a strange heat on my cheeks. “Oh, wow, I think, I think I should stop drinking...”

“We're in no hurry, (Y/N),” Donna said, amused, pouring more red liquid into my glass and drinking hers.

“Drink, drink, silly,” Angie said, bringing the glass closer to my mouth. I nodded, taking a sip and putting it back on the table.

“They were good times...” I whispered, with nostalgia being the protagonist of my actions and words.

“Do you remember Mr. Tim?” Donna asked, settling down on the couch.

“Oh, yes, Mr. Tim...” I repeated, nodding with an amused look. “That was the merchant we scared away, right?”

She nodded, laughing sheepishly, embarrassed by her childhood pranks.

“You were a very convincing ghost, Donna. I couldn't sleep that night,” I commented amused, pretending to tell an unspeakable secret.

“You were a little girl, it's normal that you were scared...” The lady in black joked, nudging me. I stuck my tongue out at her mockingly, forgetting for a few hours who I was having fun with, the things I had seen, what she did to Josef...

“I was 7 years old, I wasn't that young,” I protested, pretending to be offended in a fun way. “What was that phrase…? I’m the ghost of the white sheets...”

“You better run if you don't want me to catch you...” Donna continued, faking that ghostly voice from that joke so far away in time.

“You were really scary,” I said with a smile, shaking my head.

“Do I scare you now?” She asked with an enigmatic tone, as if it were a trick question. I immediately shook my head.

“No,” I answered briefly, noticing how my smile was fading little by little.

“You must be the only one,” she murmured, finishing another glass of wine.

“Your doll scares me,” I said, trying to break that small moment of tension.

“Hey!” Angie protested, causing us to look at each other for a moment, before laughing exaggeratedly, probably due to the alcohol.

“I missed you so much, Donna,” I said, catching my breath. She looked at me and sighed, her smile growing weaker.

“Me too,” Donna whispered, with a voice so low that I had to get a little closer to hear it.

“I can't stop wondering why we are so far apart...” I said, letting my mind speak for me, letting those words come out alone, demanding an explanation that I had needed for a long time.

“I didn't want to see anyone,” Donna said, leaving the glass on the table and looking away from you.

“Not even to see me?” I asked, with a bit of resentment.

“I didn't want... I didn't want to lose you too,” she admitted in a dark voice, getting closer to me. I let her do it, I wanted her to do it.

“You weren't going to lose me,” I said, getting closer to her, just a little closer.

“Well, the important thing is that now you are here, with me. We're together again,” the lady in black said with a serious tone, moving her hand to take mine, which I allowed, which made me close my eyes as I felt her soft skin caressing mine.

Our hands stayed together as our gazes met. I couldn't really say what I was feeling at that moment, but it was something, something that forced me to raise my other hand to her wounded cheek, making Donna start to tremble.

“I didn't remember...” She whispered, taking the hand that was caressing her cheek and holding it in place. “I didn't remember how good caresses felt.”

“I've thought so much about you...” I murmured, sobbing, with the heat of the wine running through my veins, with anything to stop me from confessing everything I wanted to tell her, what I was feeling at that moment.

“I thought about you too...” She said, approaching too.

I couldn't help it anymore, I just couldn't. My hands gently grabbed her face, bringing her closer to mine until my lips landed on hers. I spent a long time thinking about how it would feel to kiss someone. The actual feeling was much more incredible. I kissed her, I kissed Donna, I kissed her softly. I let my body act of its own will, enjoying the taste of the wine on her lips.

She didn't stop me, at least not at that moment. Her lips opened so that mine could continue acting, so there was no distance between us. A sigh, a gasp, that was her only response as we both continued to deepen the kiss, that first kiss that I didn't want to stop.

The salty taste of my tears joined the wine on her lips, creating a wet mixture that only grew closer and closer together. Donna moved her hands to my hair, pulling it gently, making clear that she didn't want to stop, that the heat that was slowly rising through our bodies was a sensation she didn't want to end. At least for a few minutes.

Suddenly, Donna pulled back, causing our mouths to part with a wet sound. I wish I hadn't opened my eyes, I wish I hadn't seen her scared look and her hands on my chest, preventing me from getting close again.

“What are you doing?” She asked, with her eye shining with fear, with anger, with a feeling that was incomprehensible to me.

“I... I...” I stammered, turning away from her immediately, with my face red with embarrassment, showing the mistake I had made, that we had made.

“Why did you do that!?” The lady in black shouted, mad, getting up from the sofa and covering her face with her hands.

“Donna, I'm, I'm sorry...” I said, fighting the feeling of heartbreak that overcame me, against the tears of humiliation that were beginning to soak my face.

“No, you can't...”Donna murmured confusedly, walking from one side to the other. She looked like at any moment she would lose her mind. “How dare you?!”

Screaming and crying inconsolably, she disappeared, leaving a dagger deeply stuck in my heart.

Days, weeks passed without hearing from Donna. After that kiss that she rejected, I never spoke to her again. The veil covered her face again, as if putting it as a barrier between my lips and hers. My soul was wounded, my heart broken.

The love I had begun to feel was just an illusion. I was stupid to fall in love with her, but it was too late. The idea of leaving that place was more and more present in my head.

“Damn it,” I said furiously, kicking a chair, letting out the frustration I felt at losing Donna again, because of me. A terrible idea. “Ah! Shit!” I screamed, grabbing my sore foot from that unfair kick. “Fuck!”

“You always do those things...” A voice that was nothing but a whisper interrupted my ridiculous jumping. Donna appeared behind me, face uncovered and head bowed.

“What? Donna…” I said, awkwardly putting my foot back on the floor. The pain of the kick had nothing to do with what I felt when I saw her again, when I heard her voice coming from those lips that I could never kiss again.

“When you get angry, you always hit things,” she murmured, getting closer to me, playing with her hands.

“Yes, well I...” I said, realizing a curious detail. “Wait, how do you know that?”

“I've been watching you for a long time, (Y/N)...” She confessed, confirming my suspicions, the suspicions that there was someone stalking me. “I... I went to your house and looked at you.”

“You were looking at me,” I repeated, blinking in disbelief.

“I wanted to know, I wanted to know what you were like...” The lady said, getting closer and closer, making my body tremble again. “If the idea I had about you was true.”

“The idea?” I asked, noticing how her hands grabbed my waist, pulling my body.

“I love you, (Y/N),” she said whispering in my ear, making me turn away confused. “I have been loving you for a long time…”

“So…. Donna, why did you reject me?” I asked, crying, this time, with joy.

“I... I don't know how to control my emotions... I was afraid that you wouldn't...”

I didn't let her finish. My lips collided with hers again, letting myself go, grabbing her head so that this time she wouldn't dare to move away. She wouldn't do it, ever again.

No more words were needed, just kisses, just whispers, caresses...

That night my world changed, that night when I didn't stop loving her, when the desire that lived inside us was able to come out. Kisses, caresses, hugs, moans... It happened that night, the night in which we both lost our innocence, the night in which we showed that love can beat everything, even the passage of time, even our two hearts, that didn't know how to love until that night.

Two days ago…

Everything was perfect. The relationship we had was wonderful. There were so many things to discover, so much love to give, to receive. Nothing could go better in my life, and in hers. But fortune didn't last in a poor man's house, or so they used to say.

It was an ordinary afternoon, in which I was dedicated to tidying up the disastrous garden outside the house.

“Ah...” I protested when I felt a puncture in my chest, a very painful one.

I tried to continue taking care of the flowers, but the pain became more and more intense, unbearable.

“Donna!” I screamed, kneeling on the ground, noticing how something was beating inside my chest, something that was not my heart. “Donna!”

That was the last thing I could scream before my vision blurred. Then there was only darkness.

“(Y/N), tesoro, please wake up...” A soft whisper made me open one of my eyes. Her dark figure was sitting next to me, squeezing my hand. I felt comfortable, I was in bed.

“Donna...” I said with a dry throat, moving my hand towards a glass of water that was resting on the table. “Water…”

Donna wasted no time, feeding me the drink lovingly.

“What happened to me?” I asked, swallowing all the water, feeling an annoying burning in my chest.

Donna opened her mouth to say something, but she didn't, she simply lowered her head and stood up to grab something from her dresser, a mirror. Without saying anything, embarrassed or scared by something, she sat next to me on the bed again, placing the mirror in a way that allowed me to look at myself.

What I saw almost made me faint. My torso was bare, covered in horrible black veins that ran up to my neck. Where the top of one of my breasts should have been, there was now a dark, throbbing, black lump. I shook my head, touching it. My scar was gone. My chest was far from what it was.

“What is this? What is this?!” I screamed horrified, nervous. Donna didn't respond, she continued to avoid my gaze. “Gods… No, it can't be…”

“You had it when I found you unconscious in the garden. I wanted you to see it before I heal you,” Donna said with a terribly low voice, giving away that she was hiding something with the sweat that glistened on her forehead.

“What is this? What is happening to me? Donna, tell me what this is,” I said nervously, moving the mirror away so I couldn't look at that horrible deformity.

“I’m sorry, (Y/N),” she whispered, taking my trembling hand. I pushed it away, thinking she had something to do with it.

“What have you done to me?” I asked with dark eyes, roughly grabbing her chin so that she couldn't look away from me. “You… It was you, right?”

“It wasn't me! She screamed defending herself, pushing my hand away from her face, sobbing nervously.

“Tell me what the hell is going on, Donna...” I hissed, getting up from the bed with a dangerous look.

“No, I don't know... No, you shouldn't...” She stammered, scared by my reaction. “It's not possible.”

“What?” I asked, controlling the tone of my voice before the imminent appearance of a terrible crisis.

“What, what you have is... It's...”

“What is it, Donna?” I asked, tired of her babbling.

“You have, you have a Cadou,” the lady in black said, turning away from me, cowering away from my irascible attitude.

“A Cadou? What's that?” I asked calmer, fighting against the anger and the burning in my chest.

“A, a Cadou is a parasite that... Oh, Gods... Why do you have one?”

“Donna, my love...” I said nervously “You have to speak clearly to me, do you understand? Explain it to me.”

She nodded nervously, letting my hand caress hers as I sat back down on the bed.

“The Cadou is the gift that Mother Miranda gives us. We, the Lords... We all have one. She implanted it in us. That's why Angie can move, why my face looks that way. It's... It's...”

“Okay...” I sighed, running my hand over my forehead. “But how?”

“I don't know... If I knew I would tell you but... I'm sorry, (Y/N). I never told you about it because, because I thought you'd be scared.”

I ran my hand over my now deformed chest, trying to remember how something like this could have happened to me. Suddenly it hit me, like a providential revelation. That black lump was not in any place on my chest. I had come out right where I had that strange scar, the scar I got the day I explored that strange cave.

That was the moment when Miranda acted, that was the reason for that sinister laugh when the priestess looked at me the day she brought Donna.

“What will happen to me?” I asked, letting all the emotions come out through a sigh.

“I don't know, tesoro... I... Let me heal that wound and... I don't know what we could do...” Donna said stuttering, running a hand over my cheek wet with tears of helplessness.

I let Donna heal me in silence, let her bandage my horrible chest, hiding that black thing, that horrible thing. My mind wandered to possible causes and consequences. It didn't look good. The sting was terrible, was I going to die? No, I couldn't think about that.

I spent my 28 years practically alone, without anyone, with an abusive father, with a friend who disappeared to return years later, to become my beloved. After years of loneliness, I had finally found my place, the place where I wanted to belong: Next to Donna, telling her every day that I love her, not wanting to live without her kisses.

A feeling of anger coursed through my nerves, making the most dangerous option cloud my senses.

“I'm going to face her,” I hissed through clenched teeth when Donna finished bandaging me. She gasped, shaking her head. “I want to know why she did it.”

“No, you can't, (Y/N). Miranda's wishes cannot be questioned.”

“Do you also have blind faith in her?” I asked with venom in my voice, narrowing my eyes at the woman in black, who shook her head.

“It's not that, (Y/N). She, she will kill you...” Donna murmured, kissing me on the lips, trying to make me reason, something that was difficult at that point.

“I don't... I can't... I have, I have to do something or...” I said confused, with my temples throbbing and the sting clouding my senses.

“No, nothing will happen to you, (Y/N). I'm going to take care of you... I promise.”

2 hours ago…

I began to think about my situation. My chest hurt, it burned, but at least I was still alive. Donna took care of me. She gave me her love every day, every hour. But that... That was no longer enough for my wounded soul. I had suffered so much. I had had so many misfortunes in my life that I began to think that it was my fate, that I could no longer believe that I could be happy.

I turned in bed, where Donna was resting next to me. My hand gently reached out to caress her soft skin, causing her to stir, but not wake up. I smiled tenderly and bit my lip, suppressing the sadness I felt at having made that terrible decision.

“Donna, my love... Forgive me... I have to do it,” I whispered quietly so as not to wake her, approaching her lips, giving her a soft kiss, just for a few seconds, surely the last kiss I would give in my entire life. .

She growled adorably, reaching for her hand towards my body, trying to keep me from separating from her. Her hand losing contact with mine as I stood up was the worst moment of my life.

Covering my mouth so as not to cry, I left the room, getting dressed and taking one last look at what, for a few months, had been my home, my family.

I went out into the cold of the night, searching, wishing that black and gold shadow would loom over me, that it would finish me off, or that it would give me the answers I was looking for. That didn't happen until, after walking for a while, I managed to reach that cave, the cave where, when I was 8 years old, I was a victim of that witch.

“Miranda!” I screamed with all my might, without devotion, without love, with hatred, with anger. The echo of my voice bounced off the walls, where those black trees twisted, as if they had heard my words.

“Oh, (Y/N), what a surprise,” a velvety voice came out of nowhere, Miranda, smiling, without that horrible mask, gesturing for me to follow her.

My fists were clenched tightly, but my common sense told me that I should listen to him.

I followed her, I followed her thinking of a thousand ways to put an end to her, I followed her to a kind of underground cathedral. I remembered that place, Donna had told me about it. It was where they met.

“Why?” I asked when the priestess stopped, looking at me with bright eyes, eyes that were like daggers in my chest.

“What have I done?” She asked sardonically, enjoying my confusion and my anger.

“This!” I shouted, undoing the bandage and showing her the deformity of my torso, which she looked at with a look of satisfaction.

“I see... So it's finally deigned to come out...” She murmured, approaching me like a current of icy air, of cutting wind.

“Why?” I asked again.

“Oh, shut up, your questions are bothering me, (Y/N)...” The witch said, touching the lump on your chest contemptuously.

“You're a bitch,” I said hissing, growling, and putting my life at risk.

“How rude you are... It seems that you have grown up alone, mm? Has no one taught you manners? I was hoping that Donna would have spent her time teaching you how to be a person of worth, but I see that the only thing she's taught you is how to make her happy in bed, right?”

“Shut up!” I screamed, pushing the woman by her chest, pushing her away from me.

“You're playing with my patience, (Y/N)... Don't be dramatic. After all, you are of no use to me,” she whispered, circling around me like a scavenger bird. “What a pity. When I saw that little girl sneak into the cave I thought: why not? Surely the Cadou acts wonderfully with someone so young... But, it seems that I was wrong about you...”

“What are you taking about?” I asked, feeling weaker with every passing second.

“Please, (Y/N). I can't speak more clearly. I put some hope in you but... I'm afraid you are another failure.”

“What?” My voice sounded weaker and weaker.

“A failed experiment if you prefer that way. After so many years Cadou has not been able to fully develop. A shame.”

“I'm not an experiment, I'm a person,” I said, without taking into account the consequences.

“Yes, yes, that's what everyone says... But hey, you're lucky, maybe you won't die,” Miranda said, opening her eyes in a sinister way. “You might live long enough to die of old age next to crazy Donna, isn't that wonderful?”

“Don't insult her,” I growled furiously. Oh no, not Donna.

“Are you threatening me? How daring...” Miranda laughed, amused by my obvious weakness.

My hand searched in my skirt pocket, looked for the knife I took from home, the knife with which I planned to kill her. What a stupid thing.

“I'll kill you!” I screamed, lunging at the blonde, who made no effort to dodge my attack, which went straight to her chest.

The knife went deep into her skin, but she didn't bleed, the bitch didn't bleed. Miranda just pulled the gun from her body and laughed out loud.

“Stupid girl...” She murmured, shaking her head. “How easy it would have been for you to be nice to me…”

I couldn't speak, I couldn't move. I was scared to death. I was going to die, but deep down, I already knew it.

“But you know what? I think you and Donna make an adorable couple... At least with someone next to her she won't lose her mind completely,” the priestess said amused, playing with the knife in her hand. “You caught me in a good mood, (Y/N).”

A freezing cold passed over my shoulder as her golden claws dug into it, wetting the fabric of my blouse with five thin threads of blood.

“I offer you a deal,” she hissed in my ear, causing me to shiver. “You can go with Donna and live happily if…”

“If?” I said trembling, closing my eyes, waiting for the final blow.

“If you can survive...” Miranda murmured moments before a horrible pain crossed my stomach.

I gasped and looked down. The same knife I intended to kill Miranda with was now stuck in my body, causing me overwhelming pain, causing me to fall to the ground, curling in on myself.

“Oh, come on, it's not that big of a deal... I've been pious,” the priestess mocked.

With what little strength I had, I reached out with my blood-covered hand to grab her clothes, pulling at them with ridiculous force. She kicked it away unpleasantly.

“I'll let Donna know. I think she will arrive in about… 20 minutes,” the blonde said, walking slowly, further and further away from my erratic movements due to the pain. “If you are alive when she arrives, she will have no difficulty healing you. I will not kill you. If you die... Well, I guess we'll leave it in the hands of fate, right?”

The sound of her steps was camouflaged with her laughter, leaving me badly injured, alone, writhing in pain.

And here, on the cold stone floor, contemplating the full moon, I finish remembering how I had gotten there. My life does not pass before my eyes. Donna is the only thing I can see. Her kisses are the only thing I feel on my skin, her whispers are the only thing I hear.

The full moon is horrible if I remember her beauty, her smile. All I can do is think about her. I have no intention of fighting, of calming my pain. I had asked for it and just as Miranda said: it had to be left in the hands of fate.

Deep down I feel the need to scream for her, for her to hurry up and heal me. But the memories that I’m able to evoke tell me that there was never the slightest possibility that I, that we, could be happy. A painful truth that only now, on the verge of death, I’m able to accept.

I close my eyes, feeling my body go numb. I remember hearing Donna's parents talk about a local legend that said that if you died in the village, you wouldn't die completely. But they, they died. They didn't take care of her daughter from a distance. I guess that's what happens when you're about to die, I guess the comfort of a legend that says your soul will live on is normal when you start seeing the light.

For me there is neither heaven nor hell. There is no heaven without Donna, there is no hell without Miranda. I have nothing left and nothing I leave behind. Only one woman, only the only woman I have ever loved.

“(Y/N)!” A scream brings me out of the review of my sins, from my breathing becoming weaker and weaker. It is a strident, desperate scream.

I turned my head so that the moonlight didn't look like the light I should follow. Just a bit more, I have to know whose voice it is. But my body is weak, it is getting weaker. I feel how death is calling me. I feel that this voice is becoming more and more like a whisper...

“Ah!” I scream when I wake up. As if it were a nightmare, I see myself in my bed, in our bed. My chest hurts, my stomach hurts. My whole body is numb, as if I have been sedated.

When I look forward, I see a black lump above my legs and the sensation of breathing on them begins to tickle. It couldn't be possible, but apparently, I'm back home and Donna… Donna is lying asleep on my lap.

I touch my body to check that I haven't died, that the wounds are still there. They are there, hidden by bandages, but they are there. I haven't died, I'm alive, I'm with Donna. I'm in Heaven, my Heaven.

#donna beneviento #donna beneviento x reader #re8 donna #re8 village #requests #oneshot

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writing-for-life · 2 months

Text

The Endless Are Not Their Opposite--They Only Define It

I read quite often, on here and elsewhere, that the Endless are also their opposite (@tickldpnk8 and I were just talking about an interesting thread on Reddit), so I just decided to speed-complete this one and get it out of my drafts before it dies in there (so not as much in-depth as originally planned, but sometimes, you just need to run with it 🤣).

The Endless are not their opposite. They define it. It’s a (in my mind, and I’d love to hear what you think) massive difference. And they define their opposite by their absence. If they truly were their opposite, it would give very different meaning to canon, and if we were to do so, a lot of it wouldn't make sense in my view.

Dream is not also reality. He defines it. He is, and forever will be, unreality. It is his absence that defines reality. A dream that becomes real isn't a dream anymore--it's real. That’s the main reason why pulling the ship into reality in Overture weakens him. If he were reality, he could have just snapped his fingers and make it happen. If he were reality, a lot of his problems wouldn't be... well, problems. The fact he is (a) D/dream is pretty much why all his relationships are doomed to fail. Dreams don't last. Dreams are forever strange and can't be truly known.

Delirium is not also sanity/clarity. She defines it through her absence. And when she pulls herself together like in Brief Lives, it hurts her "muchly". It is immeasurable pain for her because it is what she is not and cannot be for any extended period of time without hurting herself.

Despair is not also hope. She defines it via her absence. As long as you hope, you don’t despair. If Despair were also hope, we would not have 6 issues of Overture very clearly showing us who and what H/hope is. If Despair were also hope, we wouldn't need a little girl called Hope reach out her hand and touch Dream—he would have a sister who could do it. But the only time Despair shows up for him, so to speak, is after he killed Orpheus—make of that what you will.

Death is not also life. She defines it. The fact that she is there at your beginning does not mean she is the one who gives you life. She is there so you will remember her, always (and especially when she takes your hand), hence you will cherish life. She does not directly give life to immortals either--they are immortal because of her absence, because she withholds her gift, like she does with Orpheus and Hob (the Eblis-situation has nothing to do with anything in my mind and is linked to a funeral rite, and we are clearly told it is not something she usually does [“it’s been so long”], or is remotely comfortable doing. It is just that she is the Endless that is most life-adjacent and hence the one who will have to do it. Just like Dream is the most reality-adjacent and hence the one who has to pull the ship).

Destruction is not also creation. He defines it. He is what gives us the blank slate, he is what makes creation possible, he is what starts the cycle and ends it, but he is not creation himself. Keeping on destroying makes creation impossible. There needs to be a pause, a break for creation to come to fruition—the absence of destruction. If he were also creation, he wouldn't create so badly (to the extent that it is canonically turned into a running gag), and being around him and seeking him out wouldn't be an issue. But it is.

Desire is not also hatred (I’m still not sure if hatred is really the opposite of desire, but I’ll run with it because that’s what Gaiman chose). They define it via their absence. You know how Dream doesn’t want Desire in his life anymore after one major spat (whether he had reason to or overreacted isn’t really the issue). And what feelings are often left in the absence of Desire? And what does Desire feel and gets themselves tangled up in because they are pushed away and are basically not acknowledged/desired by their own sibling despite constantly trying to show him they are important (desire is not just a sexual thing, people, get your mind out of the gutter 🤣)? Yeah, about that one… There is definitely a different type of enmeshment here which sometimes seems a bit plot-hole-y to me, but I think that might be down to the fact that Desire is the chosen antagonist (and even that, only to a degree until they aren’t). Even so, it still makes sense.

Destiny is not also freedom. He is the absence of it. All paths lead to the same end. Or a decision you make was the decision you were going to make all along, and what looks like a different ending was the ending that would have happened anyway. And even if you choose, the book will start to make that choice destiny again. Only Delirium knows what’s not in his book, and in this universe, the only true freedom is not bound by any rules, logic or sanity…

#the sandman #sandman #dream of the endless #death of the endless #sandman meta #sandman bookclub #desire of the endless #delirium of the endless #despair of the endless #destruction of the endless #destiny of the endless #sandman spoilers #I’ve been Gaiman’d

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lovebugism · 3 months

Note

King Steve being a dick to shy!reader until he found out she was the one who left a note in his locker and not nancy 🥰

he's less of a dick and more of a dumbass in this but i hope you like it :D — when steve thinks nancy's left a note in his locker, he starts pulling away from you (shy!fem!r, hurt/comfort ish but mostly fluff, 0.8k)

You’re not surprised to find Steve in the old chemistry classroom, half-abandoned in the west wing of the school — the two of you often seek sanctuary there, away from the vultures of Hawkins High. No, what’s strange is the note he holds between his hands. And the way he tries to hide it when he sees you.

He shoves the paper into the back pocket of his jeans and rises from the desk he sits on. It screeches and slides slightly back in his fumbling state. He tries to hide his panic with a lopsided grin but wears all the alarm in his eyes.

“Hey, babe…” he wavers.

The door clicks shut behind you. Instead of greeting him with a kiss and a warm embrace, you cross your arms over your chest and cock your hip gently to the side. The softness he’s grown so used to has suddenly hardened.

“What are you doing?” you wonder plainly.

He stammers. “Uh… Skipping calculus?”

“No, I mean, why are you avoiding me?”

“Avoiding you?” Steve scoffs, forcing out a breathy laugh. He stumbles over himself with words and gestures wildly with his hands. “Why would I— I have no reason to— I’m not avoiding you, okay? That’s crazy.”

His deflecting isn’t reassuring.

A weird, uncomfy feeling pangs in your chest.

“You’ve been acting weird for three days, Steve. I have to practically hunt you down to find you— and when I do, you act like you don’t even wanna talk to me.”

The pained look scrunching your features makes his stomach ache. He averts his gaze and shrugs. “That’s not true, you know that—”

“You won’t even look at me now,” you murmur, eyes glassy and stinging with distant tears. His gaze darts back up to meet yours again. You shrink inside yourself and shift your weight on your feet. “Do you… Do you wanna break up with me or something? Is that it?”

Steve’s face swirls with confusion, pained and panicked. “What? No!” he exclaims, voice ringing across the quiet lab. “Of course I don’t! Why would you— Why would you even say that?”

“Then what happened?” you agonize. “What’d I do?”

He rushes across the room and gathers your worrying form in his palms, fingers wide and warm on the outsides of your elbows. He ducks his head down so he’s more level with your tinier frame. His features furrow with anguish. “Nothing! You didn’t do anything, okay? I swear. It’s just this— It’s this stupid fucking note.”

Your brows pinch. “What?”

He drops his hand and reaches for the neglected paper in his pocket. The thing is folded four different times and slightly crumpled with how much he’s handled it. He waves it wildly in his hand. “Nancy left me this in my locker a couple days ago, and it just totally freaked me out, you know? I… I don’t know.”

He passes it off to you like he’s been dying to get rid of it.

You unfold the note. The sound of rumpling paper is much louder in the quiet. Steve watches you read it with a pained look on his face — doe eyes flitting across the familiar words and more familiar handwriting.

Familiar ‘cause you wrote it.

It takes everything in you to bite back the smile pulling at your lips.

“Oh…” you hum instead.

“I didn’t meet her!” Steve blurts. “I swear, I just… I didn’t know how to tell you about it ‘cause I didn’t wanna upset you, you know? And I just kept freaking myself out, and I’m… I’m sorry.” The words catch in his closing throat. He swallows hard and takes a breath. “I don’t like Nancy anymore, okay? I like you. I love you.”

“So you didn’t… You didn’t meet her there?” you wonder aloud despite knowing the answer, waving the paper in your hand. Meet me in the bathroom, it reads, sloppier than your usual cursive because you wrote it against his locker.

“No!”

“Okay. I believe you,” you nod, smiling when he drops his chin to his chest and sighs in relief. “…Wanna know how I know?”

He glances up at you then, peeking at you beneath his lashes. His honey eyes sparkle in a silent answer.

“‘Cause I left you the note,” you confess, scrunching the bridge of your nose. “And I waited for you for half an hour.”

Steve gapes, equal parts confused and embarrassed. “…Oh.”

“Oh,” you parrot with a quiet laugh.

He stammers. “I’m— I— We just… Me and Nancy used to meet there all the time during free period. I guess I just… I thought that—”

“That she came crawling back?” you finish with a teasing glint in your eyes. “Because no one can resist King Steve?”

He meets your mischievous look with a shier smile. “It’s not that,” he mutters.

“I know,” you promise with a gentle sigh. “I’m just teasing.”

You lean further into him, both of you less anxious now than a minute or more ago. Your palms smooth over his chest while his arms curl around your back. “I feel like a total idiot,” he admits with a sheepish chuckle.

“‘Cause you are one,” you quip, sparkling with all the adoration you have for him. “And I love you.”

#published by bug #steve harrington x reader #stranger things x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington #stranger things #stranger things imagine #steve harrington imagine #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fanfic #st drabbles #stevie drabble

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dreamermonica · 10 months

Text

—gender neutral reader, teen gojo x reader hence the preferred use of glasses, established relationship, slight cursing, just a fluffy scenario i had to post with my crippling gojo brainrot before i hibernate once again

“ah.” GOJO says flatly out of nowhere. “my head's starting to hurt.”

you subtly glance at him from the reflection of the opposing side of the train's tinted windows, watching the way he removes his glasses and rubs at his eyes. you inwardly sigh.

“i can't tell if you're being serious or you just want attention.”

gojo gasps dramatically from beside you, “why would i lie about something like that?”

“can you really blame me for being distrusting?” you say blankly, giving him and and his offended face the stink eye, “especially with the amount of times you've whined out to me like some child who wants to get uppies from his mother?”

you silently relish in the way he stays silent, pouting at you whilst a victorious grin rests on your lips, your gaze returning back to the novel in your hands.

“told you so.”

he whines your name in defeat and lays his head against your shoulder, “my head does hurt though...”

the way he said it urges you to think that he is, indeed, not kidding, and most definitely wasn't just seeking attention—voice stripped of any type of cheeriness, coming out hoarse more than anything.

you pursue your lips as your gaze quickly flits to his face, before dropping to the sunglasses situated on his lap, folded neatly as his eyes are closed shut.

right. the object reminds you of what is probably causing him the headache. six eyes.

your heart nearly cracks at the small grimace on his expression, jaw clenched as his arms are crossed, head still leaning against your shoulder as he focuses on heaving steady breaths. you immediately feel bad now. terrible. horrid.

“toru,” you say, alarmed, slightly panicking as you drop your novel onto your lap, hand situating themselves on both sides of his face as his eyes still remain shut. “i thought you said the glasses helped?”

“they do,” he croaks out, the grimace slowly disappearing as he takes in the warmth of your palms, “but they don't just block out everything, you know.”

“did you overuse your eyes again?” you're ready to scold him, he can tell from the way your tone is slowly turning into one of a nagging mother hen. “this is why you should use blindfolds.”

he only breathes a noise of contentment when you start rubbing circles on his temples, practically melting in your hold.

“well—to be fair,” he starts, one eye opening, and sarcasm still evidently present even with a headache, “we were up against a pretty tricky special grade earlier. i may be the strongest, but that doesn't mean i should let my guard down. you told me that yourself.”

you hold back the urge to roll your eyes, instead staring at him unamused. you caress his cheek gently, “close your eyes, idiot.”

your annoying boyfriend deliberately opens both as if to spite you, cheekily smiling as he stares back at you, “i can still see cursed energy even if i do, babe.”

you still aren't impressed. he chuckles at your expression.

“plus, my headache disappears faster when i see pretty girls.”

“oh, fuck off,” you angrily pinch his cheeks in response as he yelps out in pain, before opting to cover his eyes with one of your hands instead. you feel his eyelashes as he blinks in confusion at the gesture.

“does this help?”

“not really. i can still see cursed energy.”

“oh.” you move to remove your hand, “my bad—”

what you don't expect next is that he keeps your hand in place above his eyes with his own, feeling your knuckles under his palm as he moves to rest his head against your shoulder once more, his eyes still covered by your palm.

“i thought it didn't help?”

“it doesn't but i like you touching me.”

you blink, clearly weirded out by the way he worded that.

“...seriously?”

“yeah, darling. now, as much as i like your voice—i really want to sleep right now, so be quiet before i kiss you stupid right here in public.”

you immediately and effectively shut up at that, hearing an awkward cough from the man sitting across from you. you send him an apologetic look, before glaring at gojo, who's now snoozing his way to wonderland.

you have an inkling that he probably won't be wearing blindfolds anytime soon. especially with how he's grinning like a madman even in his sleep with your hand over his eyes.

you sigh—noting to bring a blindfold each time you go out with the man from now on, not wanting a sore arm everytime you take the train home. you can already picture him pouting in response.

“the child that you are, gojo satoru,” you murmur whilst leaning against his head, pressing a chaste kiss to his temple.

“...you're lucky i love you.”

extra:

donning his sunglasses as he exits the train, he cheerily says, “that was the best nap of my life!”

his headache is gone, which is a relief—but unfortunately, yours is still standing right in front of you.

you clutch your numb arm—already feeling the soreness that'll come after shortly.

“i take it back. i hate you.”

“aw, love you too, bae.”

Zzzz...

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru x you #jjk x reader #jjk scenarios #jujutsu kaisen x reader #har❗fiction

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motelofmermaids · 6 months

Note

i just know that finnick is sometimes too in love with you. you could be yelling at him for doing something stupid in the arena that could have killed you both and the only thing he could think about doing is kissing you.

you are so right, anon! ♥︎

katniss and johanna wheezed, coughing up any water that they might have inhaled. peeta and beetee lay on the beach, chests heaving as the harsh sun beamed down on the group. you were sat on your knees, wiping blood off your forehead that had trickled down from your scalp. it was overwhelming to process what had led to this point. you knew it, but the adrenaline crash following the monkey mutt attack prevented coherent thought. “are you okay?” johanna kneeled down beside you, moving some of your stray hairs away from the clotting blood. “uh,” you look at her, almost dazed, “um, yeah… yeah.”

“where’s finnick?” peeta suddenly erupted, immediately storming off toward the tree lines. “peeta! peeta, stop!” katniss chased after him. despite peeta’s rage, no one dared to cross the line between the beach and jungle. “he fucked with us! i know you know that what he did was on purpose!” you could tell peeta placed partial blame on you. you weren’t aware that finnick was going to use the mutts to his advantage; you had no knowledge of his plan to kill two birds with one stone.

finnick odair was a smart man. he understood the risks associated with his plan, yet he did it anyway—without informing anyone, including you. when the mutts attacked, you and the others held on fairly well, managing to kill more despite being significantly outnumbered. what failed you and the rest of the group was when finnick spotted the careers and started guiding them closer while directing the mutts.

from there, blood adorned the brutal scene. finnick had been separated from the group, and you screamed for him. turning to run after him, johanna had a hand tightly cupped at the back of your neck, forcing you to the beach with the rest of the group. stray mutts diverted from the careers and finnick, quickly following suit. the rest became a hazy afterthought. you heard two cannons boom, followed with rustling behind the trees. you immediately stood up, peeta and katniss backing away from where they were originally situated.

out of breath and holding onto his bloody arm, finnick emerged onto the beach, desperately seeking you out. despite your obvious relief, instead of hugging him, you were pushing him away instead. brows furrowed in frustration, you yell, “are you fucking kidding?” johanna raised her hands and stepped away, giving finnick a small smirk. “finnick! were you trying to get us killed? what the hell is wrong with you?”

finnick couldn’t help the smile that adorned on his face. you were alive and healthy, that’s all that mattered. you were all that mattered. in those moments when you yelled at him, shoved him, and started tearing up, an overwhelming desire to kiss away your frustration and pain consumed him. “i love you,” in spite of the cheeky grin that has been on his face since finding you, he winced a little from the split in his lip.

you stood there dumbly, looking over to katniss as if she would ever have the answer to finnick’s unabashed endearment. his baffling, unexpected sentiment as you were screaming at him. “be serious, finnick.” he reached for your chin, his thumb gently swiping away some sand. “i’m sorry, honey. i know what i did was... really reckless,” he lowered his voice, only for you to hear, “but right now i really want to kiss you.”

#kel’s anon show 📺#finnick odair #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair x you #finnick being lovesick #this was so silly to write #me when i need to include the golden alliance because i love them so dearly #johanna my love 🤭

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ponderingmoonlight · 5 months

Text

JJK men with a big-chested reader

Pairings: Nanami x reader; Geto x reader (nsfw); Yuji/Sukuna x reader; Gojo x reader

Word Count: 4,4k (she's big)

Warnings: THIS IS A FIC WITH A BIG-CHESTED READER! so if this triggers you, don't read it (especially in Sukuna's part, you might get triggered when having smaller boobs so just do me a favor and don't read it instead of leaving a sassy comment), boob play in Geto's part so nsfw, in general harassment but big old fluff from your faves, not proofread bc I have my final exam tomorrow - hope you enjoy! 🤍

Special thanks to one of my moots for letting me turn her cleavage into a cover for this fic - you look STUNNING + thank you to everyone who sent me their experiences for this!

Since I'm not big-chested myself, I'm calling all my big boobie girlies to leave me a lil review about this fic - it would literally help me so much 😭

Click here to get to the small-chested version

Nanami Kento

You sigh to yourself, too exhausted to even stand up straight anymore. Today was like a trip to hell and back. All those fucking curses, the death, the horror. You rub your tired eyes, the stinging pain in your back reminding you more than urgently that you have been up for way too long.

“You look tired, darling. Go change and get into bed with me.”

Oh, that deep voice behind you, the voice you learned to love to the moon and back. How did it even happen that a man like Nanami Kento was seeking interest in you? What was it that made a man like him even look your way? You’ve known each other for quite some time, seeing each other on missions from time to time. But when you began to work at Jujutsu High, everything changed so fast that you couldn’t keep up. And now you’re sitting here in his bedroom, watching in awe as he crawls into bed with nothing but his boxer shorts on.

You would love to get out of your uniform right now, But most importantly, you urge to take off that soaking wet bra that has been bugging you since afternoon. You have no choice, though. With a large chest like yours, it simply isn’t possible to leave the house for missions without extra support. You glance at him while he reads in his book, your gaze falling to your chest.

This isn’t exclusively about missions and you know it. Even though you’ve been together for a few months now, you were never brave enough to show Kento your breasts. Not without a bra, let alone completely naked. Just the thought of him seeing how your big breasts fall down when they slip out of their bra shells, the look on his face when he realizes that you don’t look like those large-chested models with their boobs standing like mountains. Yours definitely don’t. And you fucking hate it.

“I know that look on your face. You are uncomfortable, aren’t you?”

His soft voice rips you out of your pondering immediately. Fuck, he caught you again.

“No…I mean…Yes, kinda…”

You can’t lie into his gorgeous face, not even when the truth makes you feel so uncomfortable. Oh, how much you wished you look the way he deserves it with delicious female curves that suit his flawless appearance. But as soon as you look down, you just know how awful your boobs will look when set free. So you’ll do what you do every night: wait until Kento is asleep to finally take off your bra only to set an alarm in the morning to get up before him and put it back on.

“I always wondered why you are waiting until I sleep to take off your bra and put it back on before my alarm goes off.”

You can’t help but stare at him, mind racing while your palms start to get sweaty. Fuck, how did he even notice? No, why did you ever think he wouldn’t? Kento cares about you like none other, never pushed you to take off your shirt, never failed to ask you how you’re feeling.

“Listen, darling.”

He gets off the bed and kneels down in front of the chair you are sitting on, gently taking your hand into his.

“I just want to make sure you feel comfortable around me. Am I the reason that you don’t want to take your bra off? I can see clearly how uncomfortable it makes you feel.”

“No!”, you blurt out immediately.

Calm down your tingling nerves, this is ridiculous. You stare blankly at your hands intertwined with his.

“I mean…It has nothing to do with you, it’s me.”

“How is this about you, love? There is no reason for you to feel uncomfort-“

“I’m afraid.”

You swallow hard. Are you oversharing? Will he laugh at you for something so ridiculous? But what if he sees you naked at some point, his gaze dropping to your chest only to be greeted by your large hanging chest? You can imagine the look of disgust on his face, how he turns away from you, how-

“Hey, look at me darling. Look at me and tell me what’s wrong”

He cups your cheek gently, forces your haunted eyes to look at him, to stare into his orbs filled with sincerity. There is no way out of this, you can’t lie into his gorgeous face.

“When I take my bra of my breasts just…hang. It’s even visible through my t-shirt…”, you mumble, cheeks redder than the devil.

Thick silence hangs between both of you, his gaze still as soft as before. What is going on inside his head? Is he secretly laughing at you, does he even care about what you have to say?

“Let me make a few things clear.”

He lifts himself off the ground and pulls you up. You squint your eyes, mind racing over why on earth he made you stand up. Is he going to leave, to laugh?

“First of all: I love you just the way you are. I love your gorgeous smile, the way you walk, the way you talk, the way you carry yourself. And I love your breasts-“

“You didn’t even see them yet.”

“I don’t have to in order to know that”, he continues.

“Nothing makes me sadder than seeing you uncomfortable each and every night before going to bed. Of course, I don’t know for sure, but I imagine it to be really painful after some time. Isn’t it digging into your skin?”

Oh, you think about the countless times the sweat underneath your bra made you almost go insane, the red streaks that visibly show where the wire cut into your skin all day.

“It kinda is…”, you confirm with low voice.

“Don’t do this to yourself. I adore you just the way you are and I am dying to see you laying comfortably in your t-shirt next to me. So please, would you allow me to take it off for you?”

Your eyes widen in pure shock. Is this a bad joke, is he just teasing you? No, this is Nanami Kento. And the way he gazes at you with nothing but affection gleaming in his eyes tells you that he’s telling the true, that this is what he wants right now. But are you ready to expose yourself like this? What if he’s still disgusted after saying all those nice words?

You let your head fall against his chest, breathe in his delicious scent. A voice deep inside you tells you to stop, to just relax inside his arms. This is the man who chose you out of all people, who stood by your side no matter what. Kento proved more than once that he loves you dearly, never made you feel the slightest bit bad about yourself.

“Go ahead…”, you mutter against his chest.

His hands wander up your back gently, make shivers run down your spine until he reaches the clasp of your bra. Your heart simply stops when he unclips it through the fabric of your shirt. You fade into darkness as soon as his hands wander up to your shoulders, slide down the thick straps and pull down your bra until he finally lands on the floor.

Slowly, he takes a step back and picks it off the ground.

“You will never have to wear this again when you are home with me, okay? Not when it makes you feel so uncomfortable”, he gently speaks out.

You stare in awe while he carefully places your big bra over the chair and returns in an instant to pull you close against his chest.

“Come on, let’s go to sleep.”

“Yeah”, you mumble, body slowly but surely getting flooded by warmth.

“Going to bed sounds good…”

Geto Suguru

You feel hot but at the same time cold, turned on but at the same time scared. This is it, the moment you’ve been waiting for. At this very moment, none other than Suguru Geto is laying on top of you, kissing you so passionately that you forget how to breathe.

What an overwhelming feeling it is to call him your boyfriend for a few months now. Such a kind and loving man, always looking out for you, giving you the time you needed for this to finally happen. You couldn’t believe your own ears when whimpering that you want him, that you are ready.

But are you really ready for showing him that part of your body? The part that began too grow way too early in your life, the part you’ve always got picked on by all the other girls.

“Look, there she is! She looks like a cow ready to milk!”

“That cleavage…She’s literally begging for it, what a bitch.”

“Ew, are those pimples on your tits?”

You know you are better than that, that your big breasts just belong to you and that you should love yourself just the way you are. But with none other than Suguru laying on top of you, his hands slowly but surely coming dangerously close to your breasts…

“Wait”, you breathe out, haunted eyes making Suguru stop in his tracks in an instant.

“Did I do something wrong? If you don’t want to, we don’t-“

“No, this is great. I- … I waited so long for this. But I just wanted to let you know that…”

You swallow hard. Are you acting ridiculous, destroying the moment with your behaviour? Suguru’s chocolate brown orbs don’t show a hint of annoyance. Instead, he gently strokes your hair while waiting for you to move on.

He deserves to know it

“I might not have the nicest boobs. They are big, but not well formed like the ones of those models. I tend to sweat a lot underneath them, my skin breaks out from time to time and my nipples might be-“

“Stop that right now, (y/n).”, Suguru gently interrupts you with a grin.

But it doesn’t look like the grin of the girls who picked on you for years. No, this grin is filled with warmth and loves, fills you with what feels like confidence. After all, he said that he loves you just the way you are over and over, right? Still, he didn’t even see your boobs. What if he changes his mind?

“There is absolutely nothing, and I mean NOTHING about you that isn’t ‘nice’. I don’t care about what the chest of random models looks like, to be honest I don’t care about anyone but you. And you are everything I want, you are everything I see, you are everything I love.”

His words make you tear up in an instant, send your whole body into space. As long as you can remember, no one ever said really nice things about your breasts and therefore you. You were either insulted or sexualized. But that force of a man on top of you…He just looks into your eyes that are filled with nothing but warmth. This man means every word he says.

“Well, that’s cool”, you mutter without even thinking about your words, lost in the sheer sight of his sincere eyes.

There is no one in the world you want to show your boobs more. Like in trance, you pull up the hem of your shirt and let it fall to the floor mindlessly.

“Are you okay with me touching them?”, he purrs against your ear.

A silent whimper escapes your lips while you simply nod, whole body on fire where it touches his. Painfully slow, he lets his hands wander down your hair onto your shoulders, trace the line of your collarbones until he reaches…

Your breasts.

What an unknown feeling. But oh, what a sensation as well. You arch your back out of instinct while he massages your breasts, the feeling of his fingertips against your still skin alone simply driving you insane.

God, who would have thought you’d ever hear Geto Suguru moan against your ear by just looking, touching, squeezing your boobs? His eyes are darkened by lust, the way his heart pounds against his ribcage echoes through your very own body.

“You look absolutely gorgeous. I can’t stop looking at you, (y/n).”

You feel like flying, fainting, losing your balance. There is no doubt in the fact that this man adores you the way you are, that your constant fear of him not liking your large chest was more than unfounded.

“So…you don’t mind the way my breasts look?”, you whimper underneath his bittersweet touch.

“More than that, I adore you”, he replies in an instant. “And now, let me see you in your full glory.”

Yuji/Sukuna

You’re back feels like it might break every minute, shirt dripping in sweat in the sheer heat of the summer sun. You just want to get out of here, away from those disgusting people, back into your dorm. How stupid it was to leave Jujutsu High on your own for a little stroll through the city. Without the protection of Maki or Nobara, without any good friend who shields you from all the unwanted looks your large chest attracts. While most people think it must be a blessing, it definitely is a curse to you 80% of the time.

Just like right now.

“Come on, I just asked for one grab!”, a guy shouts after you.

Out of instinct, you pick up your pace, not even daring to turn around. What did you even do to catch his attention? You gaze down at your breasts that uncomfortably bounce up and down in the way too tight bra you are wearing today. No, you did absolutely nothing wrong. It’s just these disgusting people who seem to see nothing but the size of your chest.

“Why would you want to touch her? She looks like a cow”, the girl next to him comments along with an ugly laugh, making your heart sting in an instant.

“What a slut”, another voice mutters.

“Oh, I didn’t know you are out today! How are you, (y/n)?”

Your heart almost stops inside of your chest, hands beginning to tremble in an instant. No, not him. Not right here when these people are chasing you. If there’s someone you don’t want to hear those things about you, it’s Yuji Itadori.

“J-just…l-leave”, you stutter.

“Huh? But I just met you! Would you like to watch a movie with me?”

“Look, the cow brought her friends!”

“Do you think he’ll get in her pants today?”

“What a lucky bastard, I’d love to touch them just once…”

Yuji’s face drops in an instant when realizing their words are directed towards you.

“Hey, there’s no need to be rude”, he begins but gets stopped by uncontrollable laughter immediately.

You want to die right here on the spot, disappear from the surface of earth. As if being treated like this wasn’t enough, why does it have to be Yuji who witnesses it all?

“Step aside, loser. Let me handle that.”

Sukuna leans forward in his throne, thick anger rising inside of his chest. You, the one who caught his eye when he first saw you. You, with the immense powers. You, with a dangerous mind that could end wars. Who are these people to talk to you in this manner?

“Are you crazy? I definitely won’t let you out right now”, Yuji replies in an instant.

“You aren’t able to help her brat, now get lost!”

“I won’t let you-“

Enough.

“Now who exactly do you losers think you are, huh?”

That voice, that aura? Your mouth feels dry like the desert in an instant, eyes widen in pure shock. No, this is impossible, Yuji is in control over his body, this can’t be-

“With tits like yours, I would be jealous of someone gorgeous like her as well”, he spits at one of the girls following you.

“And you.”

With a swift motion, he grabs on of the guy’s wrists roughly. Just a little more pressure and it will snap.

“P-please. Don’t!”, you shout after him.

Urgh, why does your begging voice make his grip loosen in an instant, what is it about you that made him switch with this brat anyway?

“Were you really just trying to touch her chest? Thinking just because she has a big chest, you are allowed to touch her, to sexualize her, huh? You humans disgust me with your simple desires”, Sukuna continues.

“If it wasn’t for her unshakable character, I would kill every single one of you right on the spot. But for now-“

In the matter of seconds, all their arms hang in unhealthy directions, visibly broken by the sheer force of none other than Ryomen Sukuna.

You want to scream at him, want to run away, want to get away from this place. But on the other hand, a warmth fills your chest. Did the king of curses just stand up for you, protect you from their rude comments?

“Get going”, he barks at you.

“This was unnecessary”, you mumble.

“And give Yuji back.”

“You should be thankful, (y/n). They will worship you for the rest of your life.”

“No, they will be scared of you for the rest of their lives”, you clarify, hands still trembling.

“So what? Nobody gets away with insulting you over your perfect body. Especially not over the size of your chest. How ridiculous…”

You can’t believe your ears, eyes darting towards him in an instant while you turn redder than a tomato. Did he just say that you are…perfect?

“You didn’t mean that”, you breathe out.

“Oh god I’m so sorry (y/n). Did he hurt you?”, the familiar voice of Yuji cries out.

Calm down your tingling nerves, your pounding heart. Sukuna’s gone. Sukuna…stood up for you. Sukuna said you have a perfect body.

What?

“N-No”, you stumble.

How are you supposed to get over this?

Gojo Satoru

Finally. You sit in front of the bar, excited by the smell of alcohol and cheap perfume that hangs in the air. After working your ass off for what felt like an eternity, you decided to use your day off right. You put on the dress that fits you best, packed your purse and went into the first bar you’ve seen.

Damn, when was the last time you were out on your own? With all your friends being out of town for vacation, this definitely is new.

“Not bad”, you mutter to yourself, eyes roaming around people making out, heartfelt laughter and a group of women sipping on their cocktails.

A cocktail, exactly what you need today.

“Hey, I’d love to order something”, you speak out when the waiter finally comes cross you.

What a lucky day, they even have your favourite cocktail in store. You’re usually not the type of girl to go out on yourself, but these last months, you truly learnt how enjoyable time can be with yourself as your only company. You smile to yourself. Yeah, this is definitely something you could get used to.

“There you go”, the friendly male announces and places the glass filled with joy in front of your hungry eyes.

You gift him the sweetest smile you have before taking a sip. Oh, this tastes absolutely amazing.

“I’ve never seen a woman like you alone in a place like this.”

Your heart drops to the floor in an instant, hands holding onto your glass tightly. Ew, a man is certainly the last thing you want to hear right now with the bartender being the only exception. Instead of even looking his way, you just take another sip of your well-mixed cocktail, the music blasting out of the boxes might make him think you can’t hear him and leave.

Honestly, there aren’t many things that creep you out more than men approaching you. Since you’ve reached puberty and your breasts starting to grow bigger and bigger, it almost felt as if you weren’t a person anymore. With rare exceptions here and there, most of them only talked to you because of one thing:

Your boobs.

Is the man sitting next to you one of them?

“Hey, I’m talking to you, gorgeous.”

Your whole body tenses up in an instant, eyes darting towards him by the sound of his harsh voice.

“Excuse me, I’m not up for a talk”, you bite back.

While you did meet genuinely nice men and have some male friends, the one sitting next to you certainly is one of the other categories. God, how much you hate it, being looked down at and reduced to the size of your breasts. You can’t even count how many times you’ve got commented on them, how many men and women just shamelessly stared at your bust instead of your face while talking to you. It’s safe to say you have enough of all of this.

“A woman who presents what she has like that is up for a talk and far more than that. Why would you come here dressed like a slut if you don’t want me to talk to you?”

Your breath gets stuck in your throat, all thoughts vanish into thick air. This disgusting guy with his beard filled with crumbs and breath stinking like the cheapest beer is definitely up for no good. You, dressed like a slut? You wear a basic black dress, the only one your boobs didn’t fall out when trying it on. What the hell is this creep talking about?

“Just because my boobs are big doesn’t mean I’m a slut. Watch how you talk to me”, you bite back.

“I talk however I want to a bitch like you. Are you up to go somewhere more…private?”

The scene that lays itself out in front of Gojo’s eyes is hard to bear. He doesn’t even know the woman in the black dress sitting in front of the bar, let alone the guy sitting next to her. But just one look into your disgusted face is enough to know that something isn’t right. How you cross your arms in front of your chest, your eyes filled with horror, the way you scoop backwards with every word this man says. Are you okay? He shouldn’t let other people’s business bother him. Fuck, wasn’t he here to get his mind off saving everyone all the time? Nah, he should enjoy his evening, drink that new whiskey they offer, just relax and-

You aren’t even able to comprehend what is happening next to you. He stretches out his hand, ready to touch your breasts without consent when another pair of hands stops him mid-air.

“I think the lady said no. Don’t ya think it’s a little over the top to go into a bar and touch a woman’s boobs?”

His voice might sound playful, but your blood freezes inside of your veins by the power he radiates. Just one glance into his face tells you he is like no men you’ve ever met.

“I…She…She said she wanted it to!”, the crumble beard tries to defend himself.

“I said what? Are you out of your fucking mind!? I told you to leave me alone and you harassed me!”, you clarify in harsh tone.

Oh, how much you’d love to break his nose right now, to give him a taste of his own medicine. But the white-haired man seems to have the same plans.

“A guy like you wouldn’t end up with her anyway. That lady has class. And you, my friend, are just a disgusting pervert. Are you touching other women too without consent? Isn’t your first time, huh?”

With a swift motion, he begins to twist the man’s hand around itself. He whines out in pain in an instant, face twisted just like yours before when he talked you down.

“Let me go!”, he cries out in visible discomfort.

“This is what you get for treating a lady so badly. You can be glad she even looked your way.”

When he gifts you a sly grin, you can’t help but blush. What is it about this man that feels so different, so damn inviting? He seems like no other men you’ve met before. And the fact that he just called you lady…Why do your knees suddenly feel weak?

“Now repeat after me: I.am.sorry.for.disrespecting.you.”

“I will not apologize to a girl who’s dressed like a slut!”

A loud crack makes the already muted room go completely silent, the violent scream coming out of this man’s mouth when his wrist breaks like spaghetti echoing through the room.

“Wrong answer”, the white-haired man purrs.

“Hey, would you mind just taking the trash out?”, the barkeeper questions.

“Did you hear that, dirty boy? Let me show you the way!”

“Are you alright? I didn’t even notice he was harassing you. I’m so sorry”, the bartender speaks out towards you.

“Oh, it’s okay.”

You aren’t even able to give him a real answer, eyes glued on the white-haired man who carries your harasser out like trash.

Like in trance you get back on your feet and follow him out into the cool air of the night.

“Have a nice evening!”, he friendly shouts after the man who sprints down the streets like a coward, as fast away as possible.

“You definitely scared the shit out of him”, you comment.

“He definitely deserved it. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m used to shit like that”, you reply with a huff.

“But normally, they aren’t this disgusting.”

“I hate to hear that. You seem like a genuinely badass and nice person. You didn’t deserve his words.”

“Not as nice as my knight in shining armour who stopped him from touching my boobs.”

He lets out a heartfelt laughter, bright blue orbs set on you.

“Hey, what about me escorting you back home? I’m totally in the mood to beat up any other men who gets in your way.”

“Only if you let me join, though”, you challenge him.

“Definitely a deal. Hey, what’s your name?”

“(y/n)”

“(y/n), huh? Cool name, suits you right? My name’s Gojo Satoru. Nice to meet you.”

He stretches out his hand in front of you, inviting you to take it. You can’t help but smile at his sheer excitement. No, you just have to take his warm hand into yours and shake it.

“Let’s get you home, okay?”

Tags: @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @hellkaiserinphoenix @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @starlightanyaaa @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut @mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0 @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @wxwieeee @lovelyluna1 @froufrousnowman @tomiokathedepresso @gojosrealwife @coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi @weebotaku21 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain @risuola @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny @ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp @localhehecat @alicerhr @kayleegomez @belovedvamp @wifenanami @chilichopsticks @dlwlrmas-world @oikawarz@darkstarlight82 @satoreo @luwumii @kentocalls @cheesemachine44 @maya-maya-56 @jinririz @getou0309 @ieathairs

Dividers by @saradika 🤍

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visionsofmagic · 8 months

Text

day 17: jason todd [thigh riding]

࿓ synopsis • while begging jason to start fuck you, you discover how you can get the pleasure you seek from riding his thigh.

―❦ nsfw, f!reader, brat!reader, pet names, begging, clothes on, red hood!jason, punishment, watching, jerking off, good girl/bad girl dynamic, ‘is all I guess? • 0.7k • who didn’t think about riding jason’s thigh whenever you see his MASSIVE thighs. mmh, delicious. enjoy! [kinktober m.] + the last work for the second week of kinktober 2023, yaaay! feel so good to come this far & the last week of it is close to the gates – open your horny sides for the rest of ‘em – see you in the last week/the week of games! *kiss* & thank you for all!

“really?” he mocks you, a smirk on his attractive face, eyes full of entertainment, understanding what you try to do after he declines the offer of fucking you – he gives you a punishment for being a brat, calling him here, having only a tiny dress on you, exposing every part of your delicate and soft body to his eyes to make him want to bend you over, starting fuck your greedy clit – he indeed has the desire to do that. however, you need to learn your lesson for making him worry about you in a way you should not.

“jay –“ his name leaves your mouth as a pray, so sweetly that his cock twitches with pleasure inside his pants as you sit on one of his thighs, palms on his well-built abdomen with muscle, holding them dearly as a source of steadiness. “please – please – I need you!”

he doesn’t say anything, only watching you while leaning to the chair he’s sitting on – eyes darting between your soaking pussy on his thigh and half-closed eyes as you roll your hips forth and back, holding him tight, biting your lips to keep your loud moans escaping.

“need me? you’re looking you’re having what you need pretty,” his long fingers hold you by the chin, making you look down at the mess you’re making on his massive thigh, the hips moving on their own – the warm feeling is coming because of both his clothed thigh and your naked pussy rubbing it. the painful motion makes the pleasure you receive get higher and higher until you begin to bounce on him like a mad girl, rubbing still from time to time.

the edge’s closeness comes sooner than you expected it to be – it feels so different to fuck you on his thigh while jason has his fisted hand under his chin, the elbow on the side of the chair, looking at you with a smirk on his face – his clothes make you go shy suddenly, making you feel so exposed – so weak.

for him – you will always be weak, and this is known by both of you. the knowledge makes jason put his free hand on your hip, moving it in sync with your movement – cock getting harder because of seeing you trying to make yourself cum – and only by using his thigh without even getting permission.

he chuckles deeply, voice huskier than ever, eyes on your face – bouncing breasts with hardened nipples, pussy clenching and soaking wet, dark circle on his pants, and your moving ass cheeks from sides. “what a mess you’re making out of yourself on my thigh baby,” he hold you by neck now, closing the gap between your bodies as he pulls you into himself, smirk is still there, burning you alive. “and only by riding my thigh, huh? always a brat, greedy slut for me, aren’t you princess?”

nodding, you close your eyes, breaths hitting your face, sending another source of warmness into your core, making the climax you seek to reach its highest point.

harder you ride his thigh, the more his cock grows bigger inside his pants – a bulge appears visibly, and he can’t hold himself back from jerking himself off above the clothes – hand moving up and down rapidly, same pace as your hips.

and when you look at it, you moan his name loudest, coming undone at the exact moment he holds your hand and makes you hold his bulge, his dripping precum creates a darker color on his pants.

“fuccck – jason!”

he doesn’t wait for you – to get yourself together, get the power to open your blurry eyes, and witness the great amount of wetness you created – your cum drips from his pants onto the floor, chest raising up and down, hot breathes hit his chest you put your forehead on.

by holding your hair gently, he makes you look at him – a pride blooms in his face, sending chills, “what a bad girl,” he remarks, “ride herself on my thigh and cum shamelessly while I was trying to teach her a lesson. even though I like how you look right now, I don’t want my girl to stay ignorant. so, do you want to be my good girl again, slut?” he asks, the grip on your hair getting tighter.

nodding mindlessly, you let him pick your body up – with bridal style, he holds you, walking to the bed you share. “then, you will lie down and take my cock inside your warm pussy princess. you are the reason why my dick is dripping now after all.”

❦ tagging: @lilvampirina & @snowprincesa1 & @dookiemeshibear & @chloee0x0 & @marmar-c *lots of kisses!*

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tsuvvy · 5 months

Note

Reader is injured during a fight with Bane and they refuse to seek medical attention. They hide their wounds from their batfamily and try to heal on their own. However, their condition worsens and they collapse in front of the batfamily. (Reader is the youngest tooo??)

Needing Help Isn’t a Weakness

Pairing: Platonic Batfamily x youngest adopted reader (A little more focus on Damian cause I want to be his little sibling so badly)

Warnings: Mentions of harm, violence, blood, passing out/fainting/collapsing, like one cuss word close to the end

Bane was a nightmare. An idiotic, annoying, nightmare. The guy basically threw you around like a ragdoll. You’d think he had it out for you the way he seemingly targeted specifically you. You’d sustained quite a few injuries by time the fight with the villain was over.

You were leaning over, your hands on your knees to support you. You almost felt what you thought might be your heart seemingly dropping to your stomach at the sight of the gash on your side. You hadn’t even noticed it. You must have been in shock, because the realization of even having it made it start to hurt. You could feel the blood seeping from the wound.

“Hey, are you okay?” Tim asks worriedly, coming to your side after having seen the heavy hits you had been taking in the battle against Bane.

You moved your cape, hiding your side in a way you usually liked to do, even when not injured. “I’m good,” You told him non-chalantly. You were lucky for the habit with the cape, cause Tim might have had a moment of wanting to continue prying on if you were okay, but he left it be.

You’d lied to everyone that asked if you were okay, giving them thumbs ups and ‘I’m okay’s. You rushed to your room, saying you were so tuckered out from the fighting and could do with a good nights rest. You were a little surprised that the family full of masked vigilante detectives didn’t seem to notice anything wrong. But that was until you got to just shy of maybe 7 or 10 steps away from your room.

“What’s your problem?” Damian spoke from behind you, his arms crossed over his chest, his tone accusatory and suspicious. You could almost feel how his gaze narrow on you from behind.

He had seen how you had clutched your side for a moment before letting your arm fall when you heard him.

“Nothing,” You had calmed yourself down, turning your body halfway to look at your older brother. “I don’t have a problem.”

Damian stared at you for a little while. And you stared back. The two of you caught in some kind of staring contest.

“You know you can tell me if you do, right?” Damian asked, his expression softening slightly, “I might be distant, but I’m still your older brother-”

“Adopted. Older brother.” You quickly added on. You had been adopted only recently, not having really taken to the family quite yet. “I don’t need your help or your pity, Damian.” You sighed, turning away.

Damian had stayed in the hallway for a little while, watching you walk into your room. And he heard the lock sound after you closed it.

But he didn’t see how you bit your lip and closed your eyes tight as the pain from the gash on your side radiated throughout your whole body. It was a struggle to get the vigilante uniform off, and even more of a struggled to try and bandage it yourself. You knew the gash needed professional attention, but why do you need anyone else’s help? You didn’t need Tim, Damian, Cassandra, Barbara, Dick, Jason, Bruce, or Alfred’s help.

It made sense why Bruce adopted you. He had a thing for adopting traumatized kids, and you didn’t seem to be any exception to that. You’ve been alone for so long. You’ve fought by yourself, stole by yourself, survived by yourself, and you’ve patched yourself up before by yourself. So why couldn’t you patch this wound?

But you couldn’t deny the flitting moment of thinking to going to any of the bat family for help when you let out mutters of pained whines and cusses as while you sporadically poured the 99% alcohol over it to ‘clean’ it. But that thought was quickly pushed to the side after the alcohol and cleaning part. You messily applied the bandage around the gash. If someone asked if you knew what you were truly doing, you’d be lying if you said yes.

Everything hurt. All of the wounds inflicted by Bane started taking precedence. But the gash most of all over all of them. Your legs and arms were sore, you had a headache, the cuts on your hands and face were stinging. It’s a miracle that you even made it to bed. You somehow got the strength to take a pain pill, and of course, to no surprise, you passed right out.

Luckily your bleeding had stopped not long before you took the pain pill, so you were able to survive the night the best you could with the most amount of sleep you could manage you get. Which was’t a lot..

When you awoke, everything was blurry, and bright, and your headache was back. And your side was just radiating with pain. You let out a whine of pain as you managed to sit up. You really hadn’t thought about how much pain you might be in in the morning.

You pushed yourself out of bed, and basically fell into the door of your room. You moved your hand to the doorknob, unlocking the door and turning the handle. You almost fell when the door you were leaning all of your weight against opened more abruptly than you thought. You managed to catch yourself by grabbing onto the door frame. A silent scream of pain leaving your lips.

Somehow, you also managed to use the wall to walk throughout the house, keeping a hand on the wall while you not even walked. I’d say.. Shuffled or scooted might be a better way to describe how you moved.

You were basically hugging the bannister while you slowly shuffled down the stairs. You could feel the blood soaking the already somewhat soaked bandages. Though you were wearing a thick long sleeved gray sweater with pajama pants.

“Y/n?” Dick questioned, his eyebrows furrowing when he saw you, “You okay?”

You were disoriented. You looked around, but it felt like you weren’t. Everything was a blur, all you heard was static in your ears. Everyone was staring at you with worry. But you couldn’t make that out. All you could make out was how everything began turning on it’s side before everything went black.

“Y/n!” A good majority of people screamed in worry while they watched you fall. Luckily, Jason was close enough to catch you.

You groaned, more of a whine of pain, actually.. It took almost everything out of you to peel your eyelids open. The cieling was weird. The medical equipment next to you was weird. You felt weird. You were in so much pain..

“It’s a miracle she lasted as long as she did with the poor bandaging job they did,” You heard a sigh from nearby. You looked over tiredly to see Barabara was the one that sighed while she had been talking to Dick and Tim.

“Y/n?” Everyone looked towards the opening in the curtain. It was Damian, and he was staring at you. His eyes wide yet worried set on you. “Y/n!” He said, but a bit louder and more enthusiastic in a way. Damian rushed to your side of the medical bed, grabbing your hand with a gentleness that was strange. Barabara, Dick, and Tim had made their way to your other side.

“She’s awake?” Jason questioned as him, Cassandra and Bruce came in as well.

“You are an idiot, l/n,” Damian told you, sending you a glare. But it was different. It looked more emotional. And you guessed it might have been a worried glare considering how his grip on your hand tightened.

“Seriously,” Jason started, he was standing behind Damian, “What the hell is wrong with you? Are you seriously so stubborn you won’t ask anyone for help with something you clearly need help with?”

Honestly, you felt stunned and confused. You looked around at everyone. You opened your mouth to speak, but nothing came out. You didn’t realize how your grip on Damian’s hand tightened.

“I don’t need help…” Was all you could mutter out, barely above a whisper.

“You’re kidding, right?” Tim deadpanned.

“With all do respect, Ms/Mr/Mx. Y/n,” Alfred appeared in the doorway, bringing little sliders for you to eat. He placed them on a little table next to the medical bed you were laid in. “But you collapsed from severe bloodloss, exhaustion, and because of the pain you were in,” You listened to him intently. Alfred was one of the only family members to be rewarded with such treatment for you, “I’m afraid the gash you had acquired on your side would have killed you if it was left not professionally treated.. And I must also say, dumping 99% alcohol onto a wound is very reckless.” The old man sighed.

You puffed out your cheeks and looked away from him. Your cheeks had colored in embarrassment.

“Y/n,” Barbara took your other hand, “I know it was hard growing up alone, you’ve been conditioned to not accepting other’s help.” She sighed, reaching up to move some of your hair out of your face with a gentle touch. “But needing help isn’t a weakness..”

“She’s right!” Dick spoke up, “It’s actually pretty honorable to know your limits and ask for help.”

“Come on, give them some space!” Bruce spoke up, noticing how everyone seemed to be crowding you. Barbara backed away from your side, your hand falling out of her’s. Damian however stayed at your side, keeping his grip on her hand tight and protective. Damian hadn’t always been the nicest, but he cared for you. Part of him felt the need to protect you. You’re his younger sibling, whether you were adopted or not, it didn’t matter.

“I am proud of you, Y/n,” Bruce patted your head. Your eyes widened, you weren’t sure what to say to such a gesture from the guy. “You need to learn that we all care for you and your wellbeing, we want you safe and happy. So next time you are injured as badly as you were, I do not want to be seeing you collapsing because of your stubborn pride.” He scolded you gently, “That understood?”

You sighed, rolling your eyes, “Yes sir..”

“Alright, good.” He smiled gently and subtly.

“This was great and all,” Jason spoke up, “But I gotta get going,” He rested his hand on your head, ruffling your hair gently yet annoyingly, “Be safe, don’t do stupid shit anymore, kay?” He didn’t wait for you to answer before he left. And after him, everyone else started trickling out with their own goodbyes and see you laters. But Damian remained at your side.

The two of you sat in silence. You looked to the open curtain when Titus came into the room and hopped up onto your medical bed. He had rested his hand on your lap, and you began to pet him with the hand Damian hadn’t been holding

“Never again,” You heard Damian say.

“Huh?” You looked at him.

“Never do something stupid like that again..” He sounded angry, but also worried.. You stared at him for a second, your hand on Titus’ head coming to a halt.

“I’m sorry..” You muttered. Damian didn’t respond for a second.

“Don’t apologize, I understand your reasoning behind why you did it. Just don’t do it again.”

“Alright..” You said softly.

#batfam x batsis #batfam x batsis!reader #batfam x reader #batgirl #batsis x batfam #batsis!reader #damian wayne x reader #damian wayne x sister!reader #jason todd x sister reader #jason todd x sister!reader #bruce wayne x daughter!reader #dc x reader #dc imagine #dc comics #dc universe #dcu

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quaintii · 1 year

Text

To be with you is all I want.

Warnings: breeding kink, slight choking, p with plot, fem!reader. Very passionate smut below! A slight spoiler of Atsv. torture, bodily harm, and blood!!! trigger warning !!!

enjoy 💖💖!!

You and Miguel have always been each other's partner in capturing anomaly's. Yet Miguel always suggested that you stay back, away from harm. But you continuously refused his request, you couldn't be inside your apartments, walking around in circles, wondering if he's fine or not. Worry runs through your bloodstream, every second, same goes for Miguel but worse. He worries every second that you'll die because of him.

In the middle of the night, you kept rustling back and forth in your bed, trying to grasp onto something. Someone. You immediately wake up and realize Miguel has gone off to a mission without even warning you about it. You are furious and quickly put on your suit and ask Lyla to find out where he is. You swing your way into a weird, black-noir universe. It looked bleak and darkly cynical. You figured that Miguel was using Spider-Man noir's backup. The atmosphere was so thick, you almost choked as you weren't adjusted to some multiverses. You caught a whiff of smoke and fire.

Your Spidey senses then took the lead and you finally found where Miguel was. You were incredibly furious with him but you couldn't think of that right now. Miguel was fighting Morlum. You've constantly heard slight whispers about him, especially from Miguel. What you can take from what you already know, Morlum has tried hijacking the multiverses and he is seeking to find the spider totems and take control of HQ. You swing your way in but your Spidey senses react too slow to a crashing wall heading your way.

Luckily, you crotch down to avoid it as best as you could. It leaves quite a big injury on you though. Your forearm now has a big open slit trailing down in blood, due to the concrete building. It was a deep cut. When Miguel felt someone else at the scene, he happened to lay eyes on you, he was worried you would severely bleed out. The blood wouldn't stop. His eyebrows furiously furrowed together and he clenched his jaw and tried his best to focus on Morlum. Spider-noir was throwing many walls towards Morlum, trying to crush him to pieces. Mush.

Miguel used his red lasso and webs to tie down Morlum's legs together, causing him to fall down. But Morlum uses his super strength to make the floor below him fall. Ensuring his legs to finally let go. The floor completely crumbles and produces a ton of dust. You wipe your dust off your suit and can seem to see anything. Your hearing is very sensitive so they start ringing as metal scratches at each other due to the collapse. You sense someone near you and before you have time to turn around and web them, they hold your back against their chest.

"Wow, you sure seem like a good piece of bait for me to use!" Morlum says enthusiastically. "You look pretty cute too..too bad I have to kill you." "NO! No, get your fucking hands off her, you fucking shitbag. She's not a part of this, let her go." Miguel yells.

Morlum holds a knife at your throat so suddenly, you shiver with terror, running through your blood. Your flight or fight turns on, and you don't look like you have an option. This man has such a strong hold onto your body, you can't even let alone, move a muscle. "You seem to be quite concerned about this woman, well that puts you to more use!" Morlum chuckles. Miguel's eyes filled with absolute trepidation. His breathing becomes rougher, he begins to hyperventilate. He can't imagine ever losing you, he can't lose another dear loved one again. He can't imagine the pain of two, let alone one. Morlum pushes the knife closer into your skin, carving a light line. Miguel's jaw clenched harder than a rock. He didn't know what to do and he didn't know where spider-noir went.

You were trembling with fear, tears swelled your eyes. You felt like this was all your fault, because you're always so stubborn and never bother to ever listen to Miguel. Your lips quiver as you bite down on your lips, hard enough to draw out blood. You felt like all of this was a dream, you hoped for it to be one. Miguel moved a few inches, trying to grab you out of his grasp. Morlum then threatened to stab you in the liver if Miguel moved any closer. Miguel's body felt like he was being stabbed with thousands of knives. Morlum would make small cuts around your body, some deep, some shallow. Miguel yells "Mierda!" with a hurtful tone, he secretly advises Lyla to send backup immediately. He was too scared to breathe, fearing he could easily lose you in a second. You both stared at each other, a wholeheartedly look within fear hiding behind it. Miguel was trying to reassure you that everything was going to be ok. "Esta bien, mi vida. Te voy a sacar de esto, te lo juro, amor. Amas quedate quieta." Miguel's expression was drowning in helplessness.

"She seems like quite a trophy, Miguel! I can see you do have quite a taste." Morlum licks your cheek and nibbles a bit at your neck. Your huge discomfort grows more and you can't stop crying. Miguel was revolted by this, clenching his knuckles till his blood went cold, white. He felt like his jaw was about to lock and break. "Don't touch her! You keep your repugnant self away from her." Miguel yelled with an immense amount of hatred. Both of your guys' Spidey senses tingle as you feel other Spidermen approaching the situation. They all work collectively to pick up a razor sharp platform, sending it straight towards Morlum's head. Before Morlum could sense what was coming towards him, you immediately tuck your head and his grip on you releases. His head was sliced off clean. Blood guzzling out of his body. Before you could fall weakly on your knees, Miguel runs towards you, carrying you in his arms bridal style. He hugs you so tightly and you both tear up together.

"I thought I almost lost you, amor. I can't ever imagine losing you, ever. You're my everything." Miguel says as he places you grabs ahold of your cheeks, wiping away the blood and tears off of your cheeks. Giving you long, passionate kisses to you. Pecks on your forehead too. The amount of reassurance made you feel more at ease and comfortable.

Miguel continues to carry you in bridal style on the way home. He opens the window to your guys' bedroom and heads to the bathroom. He keeps showering you with a lot of love and reassurance. "Mi amor, te amo, por favor nunca vuelvas a hacer eso. Mi corazón ya mero se murió. Te amo demasiado, princesa. I couldn't bear seeing you being hurt, ever. I love you so, so much." He said while holding your body from behind. You were between his thighs, you laid your head back onto his chest, hearing his heart thump loudly. The bathtub was so warm, you could stay like this with him for hours. You loved Miguel. And he loved you too.

Both of your bodies emit more heat and the warmth calmly engulfs you both. You were both now clean, Miguel got out first and dried himself off. Despite seeing him nude multiple times before, you loved seeing him like that. He then wrapped a bath towel around his lower waist. Then grabs your hand and lets the water drain. He wrapped a towel over your body. Letting you stay warm. Then he dried yours and his hair with the hairdryer. You loved how much he put focus and care into you. You would return the same back too by giving him massages, going out on walks, seeing movies, etc.

Miguel then caught your eyes wandering around his body, he slightly smirked. "Take a picture to look at me for longer, mi vida." Miguel said while sneering. "Porque? Cuando te tengo enfrente de mi, cariño. I can't ever take my eyes off of you, you're so handsome." You say while heading towards him, grabbing the back of his neck and rustling his hair. He then pushed his lips against yours. Unfolding a deep, passionate, needy kiss. Your tongue wrapped with his. The smell of skin filled your nose, your fluttering heart thumped more and more. The soft taste of his plump lips on yours, his warm embrace against your chest as both towels fall on the floor. His gentle hands reaching your body, aching to be touched. His hands roams to your neck and hair, proceeding down to your hips. You then jump onto his chest and he grabs a hold of your hips. You both try not bumping into the door and open it while still kissing.

Your mind was starting to turn dizzy and foggy. He gently placed your chest on top of the bed. Giving you pecks and small bites along your spine, making you shiver. He softly turned you around. Both of your guys' lips magnetized. Not letting go, not even for a gasp of air. Miguel positions his back against the bed frame, pulling you on his hip, holding you in a lotus position. Your chest touching him enlightens fire down your core. Your nipples perked from the amount of arousal growing down your core. "You're the most beautiful, sosphicasted, intelligent, erotic, loving woman I've ever known and loved my whole life." Miguel said with a soft tone. Whispering it in your ear. Nibbling it softly, pulling out small moans out of your mouth. "Susurro estas palabras solo para que el mundo las escuche. Tu eres mi mundo entero, mi amor." Miguel said while groaning against your neck. Your head slightly goes back, you bite your lower lips. "Miguel, please more.. I want you to touch me more." You say with a hint of desperation and begging. "No muñeca.. we have the whole night to ourselves right now. Let me cherish and worship your body.

Miguel slides his fingers across your cunt, pulling it to your face. You moan to the touch of his rough fingers on your slick wetness."Look how soaking wet you're for me, cariño. Let me put that pussy to use, si? ¿Quieres eso, amor?" Miguel said softly with admirable eyes boring into yours. You nod slowly, groaning as he picks you by the hips. He then placed the head of his cock against your entrance. Your cunt twitched at the heat emitting from his breath against your neck. He then slammed you onto his cock, reaching your cervix.

You feel your body's nerves crashing down, the pleasure makes you feel so full. You moan erotically against Miguel's chest, cursing under your breath. "F-fuck Miguel, I feel you in my stomach.. you're so big. It's t-too much f'me.." you say between pants. "I love having you like this muñeca. I can't ever lose you, understand?" Miguel said softly. "God your body does unimaginable things to me, cariño." He cups his rough, big hands around your ass, slapping it as he begins bringing your hips and down his cock. Miguel stared at your beautiful face, saying incoherent words and the seductive expressions you would make. Your mouth being agape, gasping for air as Miguel would push every oxygen in you out of your body with a simple thrust of his cock. Your cunt spasms as Miguel grabs your throat softly. "Look at me, amor. I wanna see your pretty face getting fucked." Miguel said with a lustful tone. His eyes never let go of yours. You tried your best to not roll your eyes to the back of your head and kept eye contact with him.

More fire enlightened deep inside your core when Miguel's cock twitched when you reached for his neck, nibbling on it, leaving hickies. Miguel returning the same for you. Both of you are groaning and moaning, loudly. Not having a care of who could hear the both of you. The pleasure was towering over your body and your cunt uncontrollably spasms when Miguel said, "Cum around my cock for me, amorcito. Do it. Make me cum. I want my babies inside of your gorgeous body. M-mierda.." As you ride your orgasm out, Miguel's pace fastens, leaving you with tremendous overstimulation that leaves your throat choking out screams and wails for him to stop. A few more thrusts and he finally pumps his seed inside of you. Small droplets of tears leave your eyes, Miguel wipes them away by kissing them. "You did good f'me, baby. I love you so much." "I love you so much more than you could even imagine, Miguel. Te amo cariño."

Miguel finally pulls out of you, leaving your cunt clenching around nothing. Miguel then grabs a couple of small towels to clean you up. He then gave you your loungewear as he clothed himself with his boxers and shorts. You tie up your hair into a messy bun, then turn to lay beside Miguel. His arm hugging around your body, pulling you close. His chest against your face, both of you easily fall asleep.

:33 hai guys this took me Abt 1 hr n a half to do! This was really fun to do, please send more requests! Love u all ! <3

#spiderman 2099 smut #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara x reader #spiderman 2099 spiderverse #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel ohara #spiderman 2099 #romantic #smut #miguel x reader #spiderman 2099 Miguel

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sourcherryandsprinkles · 7 months

Note

Taking care of Coryo afte the bombing. He's being stubborn and doesn't want to rest and maybe says something hurtful to reader?

I started over three times...I hope you like it

Warnings: mention on bombing and deaths

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

You were sitting by his side when Coriolanus’ eyes slowly opened, stirring from his deep sleep. He shifted in the bed and made a sound of discomfort, his shoulder throbbing.

‘’Easy, you’re gonna hurt yourself,’’ you said, helping him off his stomach and into a more comfortable position.

The scene had been horrifying to watch on the screen of the academy. No one knew exactly what had happened as the area wasn’t a very secured place. The screen had turned black after catching some of the explosions, leaving everyone in the auditorium worried for their fellow classmates — and tributes.

You brushed a hand through his hair, looking down at him. ‘’How are you feeling?’’

Coryo’s eyes met your concerned gaze. ‘’Lucy Gray, is she..?’’ he asked, a fog enveloping his mind.

‘’She is okay,’’ you reassured him. ‘’They took all the remaining tributes back at the Capitol zoo.’’

‘’I’m guessing they’re still going with the games.’’

You nodded. ‘’Do you remember what happened in the arena?’’

Coriolanus winced, trying to piece together the fragments of his memory. ‘’It’s all a blur,’’ he admitted, his brow furrowing. ‘’Explosions, fire and…people were running and more bombs going off. Lucy Gray and I got knocked down when the first bomb exploded. I tried to get back up, but a piece of the arena’s structure fell on me. She came back for me.’’

You gave a sympathetic smile, continuing to run your fingers through his disheveled hair. You had been so worried when Tigris told you a piece of the structure had fallen on her cousin during the bombing. ‘’They were old bombs some rebels must have placed between the end of the last games and now. The area is not well secure, so they could have gotten in at night.’’

Tigris returned shortly with Sejanus behind her. He was bringing information on the tributes and mentors' conditions. Coriolanus nodded as his friend spoke, absorbing the information while you held his hand, stroking the back with your thumb. Four tributes and two mentors had died.

‘’Wherever Marcus is right now, he has more chances at survival than in the arena,’’ Sejanus said, still cursing his father for buying his old friend as tribute. It was sick.

Coriolanus sighed, the weight of the games and the Plinth prize still on his shoulders.

‘’You should rest,’’ you said to Coryo after Sejanus left.

‘’I don’t have time to rest. The games are tomorrow. I need to think of a strategy so I can make my tribute win—’’ He tried to sit up, his face twisting with pain. ‘’Fuck.’’

‘’You don’t care about the girl! I know you’re doing this for the Plinth prize, but no amount of money is worth risking your health for. You need to rest, Coryo.’’

A bitter retort escaped his lips. ‘’Says the one who’s family is bathing in money.’’ He stood, seeking support from the wall as his head began to spin from the concussion. ‘’If I don’t win this money, everyone will know about the Snow family’s downfall. There was an eviction notice on our door last week. Tigris tried to hide it from me, but I saw it. We can barely afford food, how are we gonna pay rent? I need to go to university. I have to support my family. Without the Plinth prize, none of this can happen.’’

His state of panic made his head hurt from the heavy thinking. Coriolanus groaned, the pain intensifying, and released the wall to cradle his head in his hands, causing him to lose balance. Instinctively, you moved swiftly, grabbing him before he could fall, and guided him back on the bed.

‘’I may not know what it’s like to struggle financially, but don't hold it against me for being born into my family,’’ you said, not allowing him to make you feel bad for your social class. He couldn’t take his frustrations out on you. ‘’I don’t prance around my family’s money like our classmates do, or look down on the less fortunate. If you want to secure this prize, you need to lie back and rest. You can’t make your tribute win if you can’t even stand on your feet.’’

One thing you had learned these past years was that Coriolanus was the most stubborn person you knew. His determination could never be underestimated, a trait that often bordered on obstinacy. It was a crucial part of what made him who he was. Fortunately, you were one of the only people who knew how to reason with him and talk him down when he was being unreasonable. It wasn't always an easy feat, considering his unyielding nature, but you had honed the skill of navigating through his stubbornness.

He let out a sigh of defeat, knowing you were right. ‘’What am I gonna do?’’ Fear and desperation laced his voice, pulling at your heartstrings.

You sat beside him and gently placed your hands on his face. ‘’We’ll figure something out,’’ you promised, letting him know he wasn’t alone. ‘’For now, you’re gonna lie back in bed while I find you something to eat. I can hear your stomach screaming.’’

Coryo managed a faint smile, appreciating your concern. ‘’It’s not that loud...’’

You gave him a look as his stomach betrayed him with a loud noise. ‘’I’ll be right back.’’

—

Hunger games / BOASAS taglist: @crossyourmindrights @ziggyneedsabreak @folkloreshorts @runningfrom2am @soulessien @itzfckingreal @creedsofapollo @heart-helmet @javden @definitelykyles @pumkinnroses @pepperonipastas @arzua10 @upwritingallnight @cruzgrecia @evelestrange

All and more taglist: @spiokybirdstarfish @kenqki @liidiaaag @hawkegfs @gillybear17 @areaderinlove @acornacreacure @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @rosie-cameron @Caxddce @laylasbunbunny @gemofthenight @beautyb1ade @hi-bored-as-fcuk-rn @lovelyy-moonlight @mellabella101 @vxnity713 @marzipaanz @bisexualgirlsblog @queenofslytherin889 @thatbxtchesblog @softb-tterfly @ethanlandrycanbreakmyheart @xyzstar @graceberman3 @Heartsforneteyamsully @aerangi @hallecarey1 @bxbyyyjocelyn @mikeyspinkcup @jackierose902109 @daisydark @laurasdrey @mischieftom @fanatic4niall @peterholland04 @idkwhattonamethisblogs @grxnde-dwt @lexasaurs634 @teeeree13 @notasadgirlipromise @zoeynicolas @thejuleshypothesis @multi-fandom-bi-bitch @lexasaurs634 @teeeree13 @notasadgirlipromise @thejuleshypothesis@Shasta89 @sierraluvz @specialk6802 @CZARINERA @katherinejess

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow imagine #the hunger games #the ballad of songbirds and snakes

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mysunshinetemptress · 14 days

Text

Wanted, Unwanted

Leah Williamson x McCabe!Reader Warnings: None this is mainly the backstory

Leah's stomach churned, a mix of excitement and guilt bubbling within her. "A hundred quid," she blurted voice trembling slightly, the number seeming arbitrary in the face of her sudden nervousness.

Katie's eyes gleamed. "Deal. But it's gotta be believable. Dates, compliments, the whole shebang. And no backing out, Williamson, or you double the bet."

The rest of the night was a blur for Leah. Laughter felt hollow, and jokes fell flat. All she could think about was your smile, the way your eyes crinkled when you laughed, the nervous way you bit your lip when you were focused. Finally, the night ended, and Leah was left alone.

The next few weeks were a whirlwind. Leah made a conscious effort to spend time with you, initiating conversations during training, texting you funny memes, and even asking you to have lunch together a couple of times. You, ever trusting and eager for friendship, soaked it all up. You confided your anxieties about playing time, your struggles to connect with the other girls, and your admiration for Leah's confidence and leadership on the pitch. Leah listened intently, a pang of guilt twisting in her gut with every shared detail.

Leah tossed and turned in bed, sleep refusing to come. The guilt that had simmered for weeks boiled over in the quiet darkness. Katie's taunting face flashed before her eyes, the carefree challenge morphing into a cruel reminder of Leah's manipulation.

The more you confided in Leah, the heavier the charade felt. Your genuine affection, so evident in the way your eyes lit up when you talked about your dreams, was a constant reproach. Leah initially reveled in the power of having you wrapped around her finger, a twisted satisfaction born from the win over Katie. But it had curdled into a gnawing sense of betrayal.

The next morning, training felt like an exercise in self-torture. Every laugh you shared with Leah felt laced with deceit. The playful teasing she used to initiate now felt like emotional jabs. You, oblivious, misinterpreted her forced distance as shyness and tried to draw her in further.

"Hey, are you okay?" you asked, concern etched on your face. "You seem a little off lately."

Leah opened her mouth to offer a practised smile, but the words wouldn't come. The weight of the lie threatened to suffocate her. Should she confess? The thought of shattering your trust was terrifying, yet continuing the charade felt even worse.

Leah stared at your worried face, the knot of guilt in her stomach tightening to the point of pain. A million justifications and excuses swirled in her head, but none of them felt substantial enough. Katie's taunting voice echoed in her mind, "No backing out, Williamson..." The thought of doubling down on the bet was repulsive.

Taking a deep breath, Leah forced a shaky smile. "Honestly? Yeah, things have just been a bit hectic lately. Family stuff, you know?" It was a lame excuse, but hopefully vague enough to buy her some time.

Your brow furrowed. "Is everything okay? Do you want to talk about it?" The genuine concern in your eyes sent a fresh wave of guilt crashing over Leah. You deserved honesty, not fabricated drama.

"Maybe later," Leah mumbled, averting your gaze. The playful banter you usually enjoyed felt like walking on eggshells. Every word, every touch, felt like a betrayal. Steeling herself, Leah decided she couldn't take it anymore. She needed a way out, a way to confess without causing irreparable damage.

A confused warmth had bloomed in your chest over the past few weeks. Leah, the confident captain you both admired and were slightly intimidated by the girl you were utterly in love with, had started seeking you out. The stolen glances during training, the funny texts that made you snort out loud, the surprise lunches – it all felt unreal. Was Leah Williamson actually crushing on you?

The thought sent a giddy blush creeping up your neck. You confided in Leah about your anxieties, your struggles to connect with the team, and your hero worship for her leadership style. With every shared secret, the warmth in your chest intensified. Here you were, getting to know the real Leah, and she was amazing. Her focused gaze held a depth you hadn't noticed before, and her playful teasing sent butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

But lately, a flicker of doubt had started to cloud your sunshine. Leah seemed…distant. Her smiles seemed forced, the playful banter replaced by awkward silences. Your concern grew when she brushed off your attempts to reach out, citing vague family issues. The warmth in your chest started to curdle, replaced by a gnawing sense of unease. Was this just a phase, or was something else going on?

As Leah mumbled about family stuff, you couldn't shake the feeling she was hiding something. The hurt was sharp, tinged with a confusing mix of anger and disappointment. Had you misread everything? Was Leah just being friendly, and you'd gotten ahead of yourself? The thought of your budding friendship being a figment of your imagination was a bitter pill to swallow.

Yet, amidst the hurt, a spark of defiance ignited. You wouldn't let this go without a fight. You deserved honesty, and you were determined to get it from Leah, one way or another. The playful banter you once craved now felt hollow, replaced by a steely resolve. You wouldn't be anyone's fool, not even Leah Williamson.

The silence stretched, thick and heavy, after Leah's mumbled excuse. Taking a deep breath, you decided to push past the awkwardness. "Leah," you began, your voice surprisingly steady, "is there something you're not telling me?"

Leah flinched, her gaze flickering away from yours. A moment stretched, then she sighed, deflating like a punctured balloon. "Alright," she finally admitted, running a hand through her hair. "The truth is... things with my family are rough right now, but that's not all of it."

Your heart hammered in your chest, a mixture of anticipation and trepidation. "What else is there, Leah?"

She met your gaze then, a vulnerability you hadn't seen before shining in her eyes. "The reason I've been acting weird... it's because..." she took another shaky breath, "because I really like you, Y/N. More than just a friend."

The admission hung in the air, a weight lifting from your own chest. Relief flooded you, warm and sweet, washing away the hurt and confusion. A hesitant smile tugged at your lips. "You... you like me too?"

Leah's cheeks flushed a rosy pink. "Yeah. I guess I was scared. Scared of messing things up with the team, scared of rejection..."

A genuine smile bloomed on your face. Leaning forward, you reached out and gently tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "Leah," you murmured, your voice soft, "the only thing I'm scared of is missing out on this."

The vulnerability in your eyes mirrored Leah's. A hesitant smile curved her lips. "So... what does this mean for us?"

You knew then, with a certainty that settled deep in your gut, that this wasn't just a fleeting infatuation. This was real. Taking another deep breath, you met her gaze head-on. "It means," you said, your voice firm with newfound resolve, "that I'd love to take you out on a proper date sometime, Captain Williamson. No family drama, no distractions, just you and me."

The smile on Leah's face this time was full-blown, radiant. "Sounds perfect, Y/N. Sounds perfect." But she couldn't help the sinking feeling in her stomach.

The air crackled with unspoken emotions as you and Leah walked away from the training ground, hands brushing every so often. The weight of her confession had shattered the awkward tension, replaced by a shy giddiness. Relief and a blooming joy washed over you – you weren't imagining things after all.

Weeks turned into months, and your relationship blossomed alongside Leah's ACL recovery. You became a constant by her side, a source of unwavering support throughout her physiotherapy. You diligently helped her with her strengthening exercises, transforming them into playful challenges that made the rehab less daunting. You celebrated every milestone, no matter how small, the glint of pride in your eyes a bigger motivator than any stern lecture from the physiotherapist.pen_spark

Training sessions became a delightful mix of focused intensity and playful competition. You mirrored each other's exercises, erupting in laughter when one of you inevitably stumbled or fumbled. Lunch breaks were spent strategizing for upcoming games and sharing childhood stories, your bond deepening with every conversation.

But Leah never forgot the initial deception that clouded the start of your connection. The guilt gnawed at her, especially during your physiotherapy sessions. She poured her heart into her recovery, fueled by the desire to be back on the pitch, playing alongside you, not just watching from the sidelines.

One particularly grueling afternoon, as Leah groaned through leg raises, you noticed the strain etched on her face. "Hey," you said gently, placing a hand on her knee, "need a break?"

Leah looked up, surprised by the concern in your eyes. "I'm almost done with this set," she mumbled, determined to endure the pain.

Almost doesn't count," you countered, a playful glint in your eyes. "Besides, wouldn't it be better to listen to your body? We don't want to set you back."

Leah couldn't help but smile. Your genuine care for her well-being was a balm to her soul. "Alright, fine," she conceded. "But only for a few minutes."

Those stolen breaks became a daily ritual. You'd bring her water, help stretch her hamstrings, and sometimes, just sit in comfortable silence, the unspoken bond between you a powerful comfort. You even started researching healthy recipes, determined to fuel Leah's body with the nutrients it craved for recovery.

As Leah's birthday approached, the excitement crackled in the air. You spent weeks planning her party with her family, before enlisting the help of her Mom after remembering her childhood idol Thierry Henry and how jealous she was when you told her you had a signed jersey from the French superstar much to your Dad's dismay. Amanda had asked you numerous times if you were sure you wanted to give that to Leah "She has made me feel more loved, seen, and wanted in these past six months than I have felt my entire life. I.....I just...I know I will never be able to tell her or show her how much I love her, how incredible she is and if this jersey shows her a fraction of that then I'm sure." Amanda pulled you into her chest tightly "You are the only girl i could have ever wished for Leah to fall in love with, but trust me darling she knows how much you love her."

1 Week Later

"I'm sorry you did what." Leah's eyes dropped to the ground unable to look at her mother's disappointed face. "I.....Leah of all the things and to Y/n.....Y/n she god Leah she was it she was your one....shes the one we all wanted the one we were all gunning for how.....how could you be so cruel and to Y/n I'm so disappointed, i actually cant even look at you." Leah turned “Mum…I.” But Amanda was gone

#woso #awfc #woso fanfics #woso one shot #woso imagine #leah williamson #leah williamson x y/n #leah williamson imagine #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson x you #katie mccabe

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runa-falls · 11 months

Text

reciprocation

part 1 | part 3

pairing: best friend!steven grant x reader

cw: smut (18+), fwb relationship, PWP, face sitting, mutual-pining but their idiots so..., 69, cumming untouched, cum eating.

w/c: 3.4k of SMUT AHHH

a/n: ignore how this is suddenly typed with capital letters :0. THIS ONE IS FOR MY FAVORITE STEVEN ANON WITH THE 69 REQUEST FROM A MONTH AGO -- i'm sorry it took so long 🫠

also special shout out for @whatthefishh for reading over it like half-a-month ago 😭🙏🏻 i was going through a major writers block :^)

masterlist

----

“Are you sure about this?” You watch him warily from a few feet away, shifting from side to side.

Steven is laid back on the bed patiently waiting for you, hair fluffy and soft under him. You can tell he’s been thinking about this for a while now, eager to start.

His voice is soft as he appraises the timid energy surrounding you, “I’m sure. I want it–you. I promise.” For once, Steven seems to be the least nervous between the two of you. You're not used to him being in charge or even initiating anything remotely affectionate, let alone sexual. “Do…you?”

You can already see the prominent outline of his erection pressing sweetly against the thin fabric of his sweatpants. No matter how loose and comfortable he dresses, he can never manage to hide his need for you.

“I do, but I just… don’t want to accidentally hurt you.” You wring your hands together, still unsure if you should approach him.

Steven looks at you with trusting eyes, “You won’t hurt me, darling.” His comforting words help you relax a little, almost making you forget what you agreed to, what you’re so apprehensive to attempt. He offers you a hand and you take it, letting him pull you closer and guide you onto his lap.

His voice lowers as desire drips from his lips, “Though, even if you did,” His dark eyes look up to meet yours, pure need bleeding through the gaze. You eagerly drink it in, body buzzing on top of him with flustered energy. “I think I’d be okay with it…” Your breath hitches.

You know it’s true. Steven has never shied away from pain; he even invites it in the heat of the moment. He likes to be under your control, letting you use his body to drive him crazy, even if it means teasing and denying him until he’s sobbing under you.

He loves seeing the possessive marks you leave when he wakes up in the morning, fingers ghosting over them as the night before replays in his mind, or feeling the residual sting of scratches down his torso when he takes a shower, letting the warm water draw out the sensations until he’s hard and aching for you again, and he has to seek you out, hoping you'll notice him.

You regularly get carried away, so desperate to have all of him, that you don’t even realize how intensely you devour his eagerness to please you. But Steven is more than happy to indulge your hungry advances.

He especially loves it when you soothe him after, lightly kissing each bruise and mark as you whisper sweet words, apologizing for how rough you got.

He takes it with a shy smile, basking in your affections and your gentle touch, sighing as he’s surrounded by your energy, by your undivided attention.

Sometimes he likes to pretend like you're his, like you're doing this because you love him, not because you think you're being a good friend.

It's not hard for him to imagine it when he closes his eyes, especially when you're moaning around his cock or grabbing his neck to pull him into a desperate kiss.

But when it's all over, when he's pulling his jeans back on -- still thrumming with heat -- the spell breaks and you go back to being just friends.

Now, he's going to pleasure you. Make you feel the euphoria of his mouth, so you'll want him just as much as he wants you. This is his form of reciprocation for all the favors you've given him. And he hopes it will convince you that he'd be a good lover for you. That you could be more than just friends with him.

He lets out a hushed, “Please,” as he leans into you, enticing you to follow him and capture his lips hungrily.

Steven knows exactly what he’s doing when he uses that tone, that soft shade of himself that can bring you to your knees even when he’s falling apart harder and faster than you are.

You moan against his pouty lips, feeling the softness, his gentle press, you pull him closer, eager to deepen the kiss. He lets you have control over him, merely following you as you slide your tongue against his, delicately tasting you, tenderly holding you by your waist.

Steven is always gentle with you, no matter how clouded his mind gets during these heated moments, no matter how lost in pleasure he gets or how desperately he needs you, he always handles you with delicate care.

You nip at his bottom lip, drinking in his soft mewl as you start to roll your hips against him. His grip on your waist tightens, holding you more insistently against him, letting you feel how desperately he needs you.

His lips are pink and plump when you pull away, parted ever so slightly as he stares between your bodies, working your body over him. His eyes are glazed as he cants his hips to chase the exquisite feeling of your soft center against him.

You tease him, lifting yourself just enough that he can’t grind himself against you. He whines when he can’t feel you anymore, gripping your waist with frustration.

“Love, please!”

You break the kiss and climb off of him, appreciating how ruined he looks from a few kisses and light grinding. He huffs out a breath in frustration, hands fisting with the need to touch you. To have you close.

You stand next to the bed, hair in disarray, fiddling with the hem of your large shirt to garner his attention. His bronze gaze soaks over you, flashing dark when it meets the short hem of your pajama bottoms.

“Your shorts, p-please, take them off.” It’s not a demand, Steven doesn’t make demands, it’s a request, a plea, one that you’ve heard time and time again, and have seldom refused.

Your fingers find the waistband of your shorts and drag them down until they’re pulled the rest of the way off with the help of gravity. A breathy sigh can be heard under you when you step away from the pooled clothing, leaving you in an oversized t-shirt that barely brushes at the top of your thighs.

It’s like he’s seeing you for the first time – he’s always like this.

His eyes sparkle as you shuffle closer to the bed. “Come’ere, darling.” He pats his chest, “Right here.” You timidly crawl over him, delicately straddling his chest, legs parted just above his ribs. Your knees pull in towards each other, trying to hide what your shirt can’t cover, but you don’t get far before warm fingers pry you apart.

“Show me.” It’s a bare whisper, as light as his touch gliding over the outer sides of your legs.

You reluctantly let yourself relax on him, hands gripping his soft shirt, wrinkling the fabric. Heat prickles under your skin as he cranes his neck to look at you, lashes nearly brushing the tops of his cheeks with how lustfully heavy his eyelids are. He takes that moment to breathe you in, devouring every inch of what you’re offering.

His touch disappears from your thighs, and you hear quiet ruffling behind you, then a broken groan under you. You look over your shoulder and spot his hand pressing desperately against his covered hardness.

“S-Steven…” He doesn’t stop his actions when he meets your eyes, utterly shameless with his need for you.

“Beautiful.”

His breaths become heavy, and his chest moves deliciously under you, right against your hot center. You attempt to squeeze your legs together, hoping to abate the intensifying sensations, but you can’t, his chest keeps you spread, open, and quivering just for his eyes.

Steven is barely touching you, but even the slightest hint of pleasure has you craving him.

You can’t help but close your eyes as you subtly shift over him, drinking in his soft grunts as he continues to touch himself under you. It makes you throb with heat.

Steven watches you suck your lip into your mouth to hold in wanton moans as you experimentally slide against his firm chest, hands pressing into him to support your movements.

Your initial timidness crumbles as you roll your hips over him again and your head tilts back as you begin to lose yourself in the way your clit presses so perfectly against him.

Steven’s gentle voice cuts through the carnal fog infesting your brain and pulls you back to reality. “Sit up higher for me.” His hands are back on you, urging you to scoot up. “Let me taste you – L-let me fuck you with my tongue.” You press your dripping center to his shirt-covered torso with a soft moan, feeling the small spot right in between his ribs where you’ve soaked through. “Please, baby?”

You nod wordlessly, letting him guide your body until you’re hovering over his face. Your body shivers as you feel his warm breath brush against your center.

It’s a bit daunting looking at Steven from here. His face is nestled right in between your thighs – which is not an unusual sight – but this time you are on top. You can barely see his eyes since your shirt is so big it practically drapes over half of his face. What if you suffocate him or break his neck?

“Maybe… we should rethi-” A gasp falls from your lips as strong arms pull you down to his face. “Steven!-” Without hesitation, wet heat laps at the seam of your cunt, greedily dragging over any slick that threatens to drip down your inner thigh.

Your words are effectively stuck in your throat as Steven begins to eagerly nip and suck at your softness, drawing out deep whines instead of coherent sentences. You can only hold on to the headboard to support yourself, holding back your urge to grind against his supple lips.

You moan as Steven tentatively nudges against your entrance, laving his tongue over the sensitive opening just to tease you. When he finally pushes into you, you have to hold yourself back from grinding against him like you’re riding his cock. He licks and thrusts his tongue into you, humming at your taste as you drip over his lips, down his chin.

Your hips uncontrollably buck against him as his tongue flicks at your clit. A hand drops into his hair, tugging frantically at the ends before pushing him further against you, begging – no, demanding for more. He gets the memo and focuses on your most sensitive bud, delicately suckling it until your thighs are trembling by his ears.

A ball of heat quickly blooms in your lower stomach and flushes under your skin. Familiar sparks of energy thrum up your spine, enticing you to clench around nothingness with promises of unspoken bliss and ecstasy.

Calloused fingers lift you away from the molten heat of his mouth just as you were reaching your climax. You’re gasping for a breath as Steven holds you back from toppling off the edge.

You can feel it, his breath, barely ghosting a sigh over your center, and somehow, even that slightest brush of air has you pulsing helplessly over him. He’s breathing as hard as you are, mouth glossy and plump as he stares back up at you, face flushed, and eyes glazed.

Utterly pussy-drunk.

Your grip on the headboard tightens intensely and your eyes roll shut. You can’t stop it.

A stilted cry rips from your throat as your orgasm suddenly rushes over you in full force, crashing over you like a wave. Steven can only watch, lips parted in awe, as you shatter completely untouched right above him.

His fingers grip harsh bruises into the skin of your thighs as he feels himself throb dangerously close to his own euphoric end. You moan harder at the tender marks he paints on your trembling legs. The sharp feeling travels up your legs and straight to your center.

His hands rub your thighs comfortingly, apologetically, before he starts to drag his tongue over your messy center with a hum, doting on you with kitten licks that make you shiver.

He cleans you up slowly and methodically, making sure to avoid your most sensitive area. Your body still thrums from your unexpected and intense orgasm, and his soft licks quickly become too much, even with how light and sweet he is being.

You lift yourself away from his tongue, “S-steven…no more. It’s too much!”

“You can do it again, darling…” He coos, trying to pull you back down onto his mouth. “Just one more. For me, please?”

You're head is fuzzy as you steady yourself on top of him, gripping the headboard tightly to ground yourself from the lingering sparks of mind-numbing pleasure.

Steven groans as he watches you struggle to get a grip.

“C-can’t. It’s too much…” You get off of his face and sit next to him on the bed, squeezing your legs together to suppress the bout of overstimulation that almost overtook your senses.

You look down at him when one of his hands wraps around your thigh and squeezes, a simple act indulgence that drives you crazy. Your lips part as you take in the view.

Puffy lips and glassy eyes, blown out with lust, meet your stare, begging you to climb back on, but you're still shaking where you sit. He's drenched in your slick from his chin to his neck and the collar of his shirt is soaked through, sticking sweetly to his chest.

Your eyes drift down to his sweatpants, to the prominent bulge that throbs under your gaze. He palms himself, whining lightly at the feeling of his neediness and desperation. He's so hard, begging for your touch without even saying a word.

“Okay, now it's your turn.”

His shakes his head, “No, I want more.”

“Steven…”

“Please, I want to taste more of you."

"But--" Your eyes dip down to his covered erection that you've been neglecting all night.

"Just...come back, we can do it at the same time if you want.”

Your face heats at the implication. You don’t know why you’re so coy, you just came right above his fact. You've just never seen Steven like this: so insistent and hungry.

“S-sure, ok.”

You whimper when he eagerly tugs you closer, urging you to straddle his face again. Careful to not knock your knee into his cheek, you swing your leg back over his body, but this time you situate yourself so you can take care of him at the same time.

He immediately dives back in, tongue thrusting into your sensitive channel before you're even settled on top of him. You falter and almost collapse over him, hand grasping at the bottom of his shirt for support.

"Steven! Gentle, please!" You groan out, eyes already threatening to roll back as he continues to drink you in. He hums in response, but doesn't actually let up, if anything, he becomes more insatiable, suckling every stimulus point until you're shaking above him.

You struggle against your pleasure to pull his sweats down, freeing his cock from the restraining fabric. Your mouth waters as his tip weeps for you, spilling silky precum with every breath he takes.

You've always loved Steven's cock. How responsive it is when your breath ghosts over it and how it desperately throbs for you as you swallow around him. How perfectly it fits in your mouth and how deep it can fuck your throat when he allows himself to let go.

Sucking his cock was the furthest you allowed yourself to go. You convinced yourself that these one-sided interactions would keep you from revealing your feelings, that you could deal with the friends-with-benefits bit if you didn't have an actual 'relationship'.

So you deemed actual sex as too intimate and barred letting him touch you (you just weren't sure you could handle it).

But then one thing led to another...

You failed to reject his soft kisses and couldn't resist marking him up like he's yours. And now here you are barely able to handle it as he fucks you with his tongue, hands gripping marks into your thighs as his nose nudges against your wet center.

You don't know if you could go back to just being friends when he's given you unfathomable pleasure. When he talked to you like this. Looked at you like this.

You're a mess and you're struggling to hold on to your original plan.

You try to block these thoughts from your mind as your hand wraps around his cock, squeezing it gently just to get a reaction out of him. He groans against your cunt, movements stuttered as your touch distracts him away from his task.

You unconsciously sit up on your knees and lift your hips off of his mouth to get closer to his cock. Steven barely notices, too focused on holding his orgasm off as you diligently taste him, one lick at a time.

You drag your tongue up his shaft, licking the precum that slowly cascades over his silken skin. You feel his body quake as you lave and kitten lick against his tip, gently coaxing shortened breaths and whimpers with every touch.

You dip down to engulf him into your hot mouth, enjoying the slick feeling of his cock gliding easily against your tongue and the top of your mouth.

His hands frantically latch onto your upper thighs, unintentionally pulling you back onto his mouth as he squeezes at the softness, desperately attempting to control himself.

He has to actively keep his hips from snapping against your face, you just feel so sublime, so soft and hot.

Steven cries against your cunt when he reaches the back of your throat. He can't help it when he feels you struggle to swallow around him, so tight, wet, and hot. He's just so sensitive -- especially when it comes to you.

You keep laving your tongue against the underside of his cock as you suck him in, ignoring the your jaw begins to ache as you open wide for him.

"Uhh!" His stomach tenses under you and he twitches against your tongue.

He can't be cumming already...right?

Fingers grip into your hair and you're suddenly pushed down, forced to take him down your throat. You choke slightly, eyes watering, before letting yourself relax against him.

He's lost in pleasure, grinding and thrusting his cock into your mouth like it's your cunt, shoving it deeper than you're usually comfortable with and you let him.

Steven spurts warmth at the back of your throat. You try your best to swallow it down before it dribbles from your mouth and makes a mess. He whimpers as he fully lets go, thighs tense and trembling under your touch.

He's still cumming when he tugs you back onto his mouth, feverishly lapping through your center before taking your clit between his lips. You orgasm explosively as he avidly sucks you in, already half-way there from the mere feeling of him spilling in your mouth.

Even after he has emptied himself, he continues to gently fuck your face, not yet ready to leave your warmth. His hips stutter and his breaths become uneven but he ignores the overstimulation, too attached to this closeness, to this illusion of mutual affection.

He also continues to lick you clean, despite your whines of discomfort. He lovingly places gentle kisses against your inner thigh, wishing he could stay in this position forever.

He huffs out disappointedly when you climb off of him, even tries to lock his arms around your legs to keep you there, but you were adamant to get away from his insatiable mouth.

"One more?"

You gape at him, "Steven, we already did 'one more'." You shiver, suddenly cold without his body against yours. "What has gotten into you? I've never seen you so...horny before."

He looks at you sheepishly, "I dunno. I guess, once I got a taste I wanted more." He sits up, hand wiping your slick off his face. "How 'bout later?"

"You're already thinking about later?"

He nods, "I'm always thinking about you."

Your heart thumps painfully in your chest as blood heats your face. You try to ignore it. Try not to look directly at him. Try to pretend like he didn't just say that because he probably doesn't even understand the impact that his words have on you.

He's always thinking about your favors. That's it.

"Later, then."

#steven grant #steven grant x reader #steven grant smut #moon knight

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