#I want her to be allowed to express herself as a person and beat the fuck out of someone

[aubadeempress]

Is it wrong that I really want to make a Limbus Company OC based of Maria Clara from Noli Me Tangere?

[niilue]

—when you hear vi call caitlyn cupcake, hurt and jealousy remind you that, no matter how much it hurts, you will never be more than a shadow in her life.—

cw: female reader, angst, jealousy, emotional pain, drama, this is short tho…. maybe need a sec. part

part ii

you remain motionless, feeling the heat of anger begin to crawl up your neck, setting every nerve in your body on fire. your fists clench at your sides, nails digging into your palms, and the taste of rage mixes with something uglier, something harder to swallow: jealousy.

you don’t want to feel this way. you shouldn’t feel this way, because you have no right. you and vi are nothing, there are no promises or bonds that allow you to claim any part of her. but the fact that vi still calls her “cupcake” after everything that happened, after how caitlyn left her hurt and alone, makes you sick. because you were the one who was there. you were the one who found vi after that fight, doubled over in pain, trying to hide her vulnerability behind a broken smile.

you remember those nights underground, when vi got drunk to bury the disappointment and threw herself into stupid fights, looking for blows that might distract her from the real pain. it was you who followed her, who made sure she didn’t end up with her head cracked open in a dark alley, who endured her shouts and outbursts when you tried to help her. you took care of her, even when she didn’t want you to, even when you knew she would never thank you for it.

but here you are now, standing like an idiot, watching vi call caitlyn by that nickname, as if none of it mattered, as if everything you did for her was insignificant. you feel something break inside you, something you had been trying so hard to hold together. the fury and sadness swirl in your chest, and for a second, you can’t breathe.

“really?” you spit out the words, your voice full of venom before you can stop yourself. vi turns to you, her blue eyes narrowing in confusion. there’s something in her expression that makes your blood boil even more, as if she can’t understand why you’re so upset. as if the fact that this hurts you is a mystery.

“what?” vi frowns, crossing her arms over her chest as if preparing for a confrontation. you can see how the muscles of her abdomen still tense slightly, a reminder of where caitlyn hit her with the shotgun, and that only fuels your anger.

you step forward, and your words come out fast and full of rage. “cupcake? seriously? after everything that happened?” your voice trembles, and you hate how vulnerable you sound, but you can’t stop. “after she left you lying in the dirt, kicking up dust, because she decided you weren’t worth it? after i was the one who had to pick up your pieces, who tried to keep you from beating yourself to death out of your own damn self-destructiveness?”

vi blinks, clearly taken aback by the intensity of your words. her lips part, and you can see how she hardens, how her eyes become sharp, as if trying to find something to say, some kind of defense. but you don’t give her the chance.

“i was the one who was there,” you continue, and your voice cracks, but you push on. “i was the one who made sure you didn’t bleed out in some alley, who tried to make you feel like you weren’t alone. but of course, that doesn’t matter, right?!” your throat tightens, and you feel tears burning behind your eyes, but you force them to stay where they are. you won’t cry. not here, not now.

vi clenches her jaw, and her eyes flash with something you can’t decipher. “why do you care so much?” she asks, and though her tone is defensive, there’s something else there, something that seems uncertain. as if she can’t understand why all of this affects you so deeply. “why are you acting like… like this is personal?”

the silence that follows is almost deafening. your heart beats so hard that it feels like it’s going to burst out of your chest, and for a second, you can’t find the words. because you don’t have an answer you can give her without revealing everything you’ve been trying to deny.

“because…” you try, and your voice breaks again. you can’t tell her that you’ve started to feel something for her, something that scares you and hurts you and fills you with hope all at once. you can’t tell her that just seeing her smile at caitlyn, hearing her use that damned nickname, makes you feel like nothing more than a shadow in her life, someone who will always come second.

“because we’re nothing,” you finally say, and each word is a dagger in your chest. “and we might never be anything, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt.” your voice is a whisper full of bitterness, and your shoulders slump slightly, as if the weight of your own emotions is too much to bear.

vi watches you, and you can see how her expression changes. there’s something in her eyes, a mix of guilt and something you can’t quite identify, but you don’t say anything else. you take a step back, shaking your head, trying to push away the storm of feelings that threatens to break you.

“forget it,” you murmur, and you turn around before vi can see how hurt you are. “it doesn’t matter.”

but as you walk away, letting the distance grow between you, you know that it does matter. it matters more than you want to admit, and even though you hate feeling this way, you know that this pain, this jealousy, won’t go away so easily.

[lecsainz]

Hi! I love the way you write and you seem really sweet. No one really answers my requests so I’m not expecting you to😂. Why not try tho. Can I get a Clarisse La Rue x Fem! Half blood Reader. And the head cannons of our relationship and really go and do what you want with it. I love her sm and really want a good bit of head cannons of her.

I’m sorry if this sounds rude at all lol. I’m not trying to be.

HOLDING YOUR HAND

parings: clarisse la rue x fem!half-blood!reader

summary: that one where you date clarisse and what your relationship with her is like.

an: awww, thank you! you seem like an AMAZING person too, seriously! I loved your request, hope it turned out the way you wanted 😁 (note: I didn't specify which greek god the reader was because I didn't know if you wanted a specific one).

( my last work || my last work for riodanverse || main masterlist )

You and Clarisse have known each other since you first arrived at camp.

It took about two weeks for you to gather the courage to approach the daughter of Ares, which was odd for you because you were a social butterfly.

Clarisse wouldn't admit it, but she found it amusing when you came up to her and started to stutter, and to this day, whenever she remembers, she teases you about it.

After your first conversation, where you asked her to teach you sword fighting since you only knew how to use a bow and arrow until then, Clarisse gladly accepted. Her condition was that she'd only teach you if you joined her team in Capture the Flag, considering you were one of the best - if not the best, in Clarisse's words - at the camp.

Thanks to the training sessions, you and Clarisse began to bond as friends.

You talked about everything and nothing simultaneously. Clarisse felt she could be herself around you, knowing you wouldn't judge her.

Even if Clarisse was in the midst of a fight or giving orders alongside her half-siblings, she would stop as soon as she saw you, to come over for a conversation or to give you a hug.

She doesn't remember when she started feeling something for you, but she got scared that you might not feel the same and ended up distancing herself.

"Hey, Clarisse," you began tentatively, trying to keep your tone light yet concerned. "Mind if I join you?" She glanced up, surprise flickering across her features before settling into a guarded expression. Nodding silently, she gestured to the empty spot beside her. Sitting down, you couldn't ignore the tension radiating from her. "You've been a bit distant lately. Is everything alright?" Her gaze softened, a mix of emotions swirling in her eyes – a blend of vulnerability and the stubbornness that defined her. "It's nothing, just camp stuff," she shrugged, trying to brush it off. You tilted your head, offering a small smile. "You know, you can talk to me about anything. I'm here if you need someone to listen." Clarisse sighed, her guard starting to crack as she looked away, fingers fidgeting with a loose thread on her shirt. "I just... I thought maybe I was getting too close. Didn't want things to get... complicated." Her vulnerability caught you off guard, but you reached out, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Complicated how?" She hesitated, eyes darting back to yours, her expression a mix of confusion and a touch of fear. "I... I started feeling something... and I was afraid you didn't feel the same." Your heart skipped a beat as her words sank in. "Clarisse, I..." You searched for the right words, hoping to convey what you hadn't said before. "I've enjoyed every moment we've spent together. You mean a lot to me." She met your gaze, her walls crumbling slightly, allowing a glimpse of vulnerability to shine through. "Really?" "Yeah," you nodded earnestly. "Really." A small, hesitant smile tugged at the corners of her lips. "I've missed hanging out with you." "I've missed it too," you admitted, relieved that you were finally talking about the unspoken tension between you. There was a brief pause, the weight of your unspoken feelings hanging in the air before you broke the silence. "So, are we good?" Clarisse grinned, a hint of her usual spark returning. "Yeah, we're good."

It was no surprise to anyone at the camp when you two appeared together.

During the Capture the Flag game, Clarisse always kept an eye out for you. While she was engaged in a battle with a Hermes kid, she ended up falling, and you intervened just in time, nearly hitting the boy with an arrow.

"Need a hand?" You asked with a smile at your girlfriend. "I could've handled it myself," she grumbled, starting to get up. "A 'thank you' would be nice," you offered your hand to her. She accepted the help to stand. "I'm holding your hand," she murmurs, taking yours, and you lift her, shaking your head, amused by her. Clarisse stops and looks at your hands together with a huge smile. Before you could say anything, a noise from the forest interrupted, and Clarisse planted a kiss on your cheek before darting off, leaving you standing there, trying to process what just happened.

Clarisse definitely loves giving bear hugs.

She would wake up earlier just to spend extra time with you without anyone interrupting.

When Clarisse's siblings from the Ares cabin tease her about being a lovesick fool, she doesn't even bother defending herself anymore because it's true, and she's not ashamed to admit it.

Your love language is physical touch, so she wouldn't mind receiving hugs and holding your hand all day long.

"Good morning!" You'd hug her from behind at the Ares table, planting a kiss on her cheek, realizing she was annoyed, then darting off to your own table. When you glanced back at the brunette, you'd see her with a huge goofy smile amidst the cheers and teasing from her siblings.

While Clarisse trains, you would go just to watch her. She'd try to impress you, but if she made a mistake, she'd be extremely embarrassed, yet she wouldn't admit it, claiming that the slip was part of her plan for that move that made her fall to the ground.

"And that's how you catch your opponent off guard," she'd explain as she gets up from the ground. "Yeah, right," you start laughing at her. "Hey, I'm serious." Clarisse brushes off the dirt from her clothes, trying to save face.

She'd dislike everyone else but seeing you would instantly brighten her day by 100% .

[little-diable]

Meant to be – Prof!Spencer Reid (smut)

I just love writing prof!fics – almost as much as I love priest!fics. Almost. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: The reader is a young professor joining the university Spencer works at. Even though he's annoyed about having to share his office with her at first, he can't help but fall for her all too quickly.

Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, office smut, some possessiveness/jealousy, lots of fluff

Pairing: Prof!Spencer Reid x fem!prof!reader (3k words)

“Professor Reid?” The soft voice filled his office, forcing his eyes off the paper he was currently grading. His gaze wandered over the woman's features as he curiosity studied her for a moment before clearing his throat. 

“My office hours are over, please return on Wednesday for your questions.” His eyes left hers to refocus on his papers, while expecting her to turn around and leave, urged on by the rude tone he hadn’t been able to shake. Spencer hadn’t expected anybody else to turn up this late in the afternoon, he was desperate to squeeze as much work into the remaining time he had alone in his office, already overstimulated by the mere thought of having to share his office with somebody from today on. 

“My name is (y/n), I’ll be sharing this office with you.” Once again he was forced to look at her, unable to swallow his annoyance as it began to dawn on him that she wasn’t a student.

She was pretty, by far prettier than all the pictures he had searched on the internet the second he had heard about her, about (y/n) joining his personal safe space. Why hadn’t he recognised her? Was his mind already that fed up with the pretty stranger? 

“Of course, I’m sorry.” He didn’t move as she slowly stepped into the big room, letting her eyes wander before finding her way to her space. The old wooden desk had been placed near the big window, drenching her in the light of the slowly setting sun. Spencer would crash and burn if he were forced to see this daily, a sight so ethereal he feared this was just a trick of his tired brain. 

“I’m sorry that you have to share your office with me, I can only imagine how annoying that must be for you.” He wanted to protest, wanted to tell her that he doesn’t mind sharing it with her – polite words any other colleague would have effortlessly spoken. But all Spencer could do was hum and redirect his gaze to the papers, while missing the slight hurt expression (y/n) couldn’t hide. 

……

Her heart was pounding with a faster beat, singing a tale of nervousness in her chest she couldn’t silence just yet. This wasn’t an unusual situation for her, she had taught numerous classes before, but the first class she taught at a new university always had something special to it, something (y/n) couldn’t shake. 

The students were working on the papers she had handed out a minute ago, fully engrossed by the story. She let her eyes wander, taking them all in in hopes of remembering at least a handful of them. But her thoughts were silenced the second her eyes found his. Spencer Reid was leaning against the door and with his arms crossed in front of his chest he intently studied her from his spot.

Her heart skipped a beat in her chest as it silently whispered to (y/n). It had been days since she had first crossed paths with him, the annoyed, closed-off man who was more handsome than she liked to admit. Ever since their first awkward run-in she hadn’t tried to make any conversations with him, she had opted to wear her headphones around him, hiding herself from the curious eyes she felt on her frame whenever she let her work swallow her. 

Neither of them dared to break their eye contact first, a silent challenge both were determined to win. (Y/n) allowed herself to take him all in, the locks perfectly framing his handsome face, the slight unfamiliar smile playing on his lips, and those twinkling eyes that seemed to follow her around whenever they crossed paths. 

“Alright, seems like our time is up, if you have any questions about your reading, please email me.” She was forced to break their staring contest first, smiling at her students who smiled back at her before leaving the room. (Y/n) couldn’t help but notice how a few of them wore overly bright smiles as they walked past Spencer, seemingly just as affected by the professor's handsome appearance, just like (y/n) was. 

Only as the last student had left the room did Spencer finally begin to move. Slowly, he walked down the stairs, moving closer to (y/n) with every passing moment. She was glued to her spot, patiently waiting for the man to break their silence, to let her hear the raspy voice that had rang in her ears for the past days. 

“That was a really interesting lecture, (y/n).” He came to a halt only a few steps away from her, keeping a slight distance between them as if he was unsure how to properly approach her. For a moment, (y/n) had to avert her gaze, she began to pack her bag with a slight smile stuck to her lips, hoping that he wouldn’t pick up on the nervousness flushing through her whenever he was close. 

“Thank you, Spencer, that means a lot coming from a beloved professor like you.” Her words drew a gritty laugh from him, while a slight rosy tint began to flush his cheeks. (Y/n) shouldered her bag before she began to walk up to him, wordlessly asking him to follow her up the stairs and back to their office. 

“Listen,” Spencer cleared his throat before he kept speaking, seemingly unsure how to put his thoughts into a coherent sentence. “I am sorry about those first days, I was annoyed and quite unfriendly to you. Would you allow me to make it up to you?”

“Oh, Spencer, that is very kind of you, but I get it, I would be just as annoyed if I had to give up my personal space to share it with a stranger.” Her soft voice left him smiling, unable to look away from (y/n) while stepping back into their own little bubble, the safe haven they found in their spacey office that was filled with books and collected items. 

“Would you want to get some food with me, as an apology? We could also order in, if you want.” He plopped down on his chair the same second (y/n) did, while holding eye contact from their spots. 

“Sure, that would be lovely, thank you, Spencer.”

……

Her phone had buzzed in her pocket a few minutes ago, and even though it had ripped (y/n) out of her thoughts, she was determined to get her search over with before giving into the pull. She had just finished her class and was now combing through their library, in search of new reading material, desperately trying to find her books. 

With a relieved sigh she reached for the book she had looked for these past minutes, pressing it to her side before finally giving into her heart’s silent call. (Y/n)’s hand wandered to her phone, unable to bite down her chuckles as she read Spencer’s all too simple message. 

“Thai or Italian?” 

Ever since that evening in their office, where they had ordered in and started to get to know one another properly, they had begun to form some kind of routine, ordering food at least once a week to spend their evenings together. Spending time with Spencer felt all too easy, too natural, something that made her feel more confused than she liked. 

She was about to type out her reply as she collided with somebody, forcing her eyes off her phone. Hands found her waist to stabilise her frame, keeping the young professor from losing her balance. (Y/n)’s wide eyes found a pair of brown ones, she studied the man for a second before parting her lips to apologise.

“I am so sorry, are you alright?” Her question drew a soft laugh from him. She had seen him from afar a few times, another professor she had yet to properly introduce herself to. He was a handsome man, taller than her and slightly older, and yet he had nothing on the professor she shared her office with.

“Don’t worry, are you alright though?” The man still had his hand placed on her waist, holding onto her while murmuring the question. Just as she wanted to reply, to tell him that nothing had happened, her name was called, forcing her attention towards Spencer, who was approaching the two. An unreadable expression tugged on his features as he studied her and the hand of their colleague which was still glued to her waist. 

“There you are, I was looking for you, sweetheart.” Heat flushed through her at the unfamiliar term of endearment. The second Spencer reached her side, he pulled her from the man’s grasp, straight into his arms. She could only gape up at him, torn between her confusion and the slight twinge of excitement she couldn’t shake as she took in his clear expression of jealousy.  

The man muttered something (y/n) couldn’t pick up, fully focused on Spencer and the way she fit all too perfectly into his grasp. No words were shared between them as they held eye contact, staring at one another as if it was the first time they got to take the other in. Spencer’s thumb stroked soft circles into the fabric of her shirt before he slowly – almost reluctantly – let go of her. 

“I, uhm, you didn’t reply, so I thought I’d go find before you get lost.” Spencer’s whispers drew a soft chuckle from (y/n). She couldn’t stop herself from reaching for his hand to lightly squeeze it as her smile kept growing.

“And what was that whole thing with calling me “sweetheart”?” The blush she was all too familiar with by now returned to his cheeks, while forcing his eyes from her. (Y/n) squeezed his hand again before she began to tug him down the hallway, set on finding their way back to their office.

“Don’t worry, Spence’, I quite liked it.” 

……

“You’re so quiet, what’s going on in that head of yours?” She mumbled the words as she studied Spencer. They were both sitting on the floor, leaning against the small couch placed near their bookshelves, while finishing their food. It had been almost an hour since their situation at the library, but while (y/n) had made some more jokes about the situation, Spencer had grown quiet, deep in thought. 

Spencer’s gaze flickered from his hands to her curious features. He studied her for a few seconds before he placed his plate down and fully turned towards (y/n). No words were shared between them, they were caught in a thick fog of unspoken thoughts, longings, and fears.

“Can I try something?” His husky voice was about to draw a gasp from (y/n). She could only nod her head, not daring to break out of the grasp this situation had on her. Spencer’s hand found her cheek, while his eyes were focusing on her lips. He let a few seconds pass before closing the distance between them. 

Within seconds he had pulled her into his lap, letting (y/n) straddle his thighs as their lips moved in sync. Their hearts were racing, pounding in their chests to beg one another to keep on going, to let their tongues meet while growing comfortable in the new sensation that held their souls hostage. The kiss felt all too perfect, something they had been waiting for ever since crossing paths, something they had longed for and thought of for weeks now. 

“I can’t stop thinking of the way he touched you.” Spencer murmured his words against her lips. A confused expression began to tug on her features as she patiently waited for him to keep on talking. 

“You’re mine to touch, and not his, you’ll never be.” Possessiveness dripped from his words – a possessiveness so strong, it made her feel as if they had been together for years, sharing memories neither could shake. (Y/n) couldn’t speak up, not when she felt Spencer’s hands disappear beneath the fabric of her blouse, softly stroking her sides. 

“Spencer,” she gasped his name, desperate for more, another touch – anything he’d offer to her. His lips began to find their way down her throat, sucking on spots that made her tingle with a biting heat threatening to leave its mark on her forever. (Y/n)’s hands tugged on his curls while trying to shuffle even closer, letting her core grind against his growing bulge. 

“We shouldn’t do this here.” (Y/n) could only whisper the words as his hands pulled her blouse over her head, exposing her bra to his wandering eyes. The groan that left Spencer at the sight made her forget every word she wanted to speak, every warning, nothing but hazy thoughts were left behind. 

“Tell me why we shouldn’t, baby.” The raspy command forced her to arch her front into his touch. She felt as if he had set her ablaze, burning for him only, a summer solstice bonfire that left her shaking and trembling in a desperate need to turn every offering into something worthy. 

“People will hear.” His hands kept moving, urged on by the desperate whines leaving (y/n). The cold air teased her now naked chest, the hardening nipples Spencer’s fingers tugged on, drawing the most sinful sounds from her parted lips. 

“And? Let them hear how good I’ll be fucking you.” The words seemed to do something to (y/n) - they forced her hands to move from his hair down his front to slowly undo his trousers. Both knew that there was no way out of this, they were high on the feelings the other pushed through them, desperate for the highs they could already feel creeping closer without being properly touched.  

“How can you be so sure you’ll satisfy me enough?” She was riling him up, teasing him in a desperate attempt to forgo any foreplay to be filled by him, needing to feel Spencer buried deep inside of her. They held eye contact for a second as she finally managed to free his cock, twitching in her grasp as if he felt the same exciting heat burning deep inside of him. 

Spencer didn’t speak another word as he pushed her off his lap to murmur a raspy “Undress”. He stared at her as (y/n) pulled out of her jeans, with her soaked panties following a second later. Her skin was prickling, unsure how to act around the man who was now seeing her completely naked for the first time. 

They kept looking at one another while Spencer fisted his cock, giving himself a few pumps before a smirk tugged on his lips. With his hand finding the back of her head, he pulled her in for a teeth-clashing kiss – a kiss so desperate (y/n) feared he’d rob her of her last breath. 

“Turn around, chest down on the couch.” Slowly, (y/n) turned around to follow his command, only to feel him behind her a few moments later. She heard Spencer shuffle around and rip open a condom, before she felt his slender fingers at her aching heat. A loud moan managed to break through her at the feeling of his digits brushing through her slit, collecting drops of her arousal to spread it on her pulsing bundle. 

(Y/n) had to claw her fingernails into the fabric of the couch to ground herself, to let go of a few deep breaths – all while Spencer slowly pulled his fingers away to push his cock towards her entrance. With one hand placed on her waist, he held onto (y/n) while slowly pushing into her – a sensation so strong, it pulled raspy moans from the both of them. 

“Fuck, you’re so tight, baby.” (Y/n) could only let go of a sob at his praises. She had her eyes squeezed shut, knuckles turning a few shades lighter from the strong grip she had on the couch. Spencer pulled out of her, only to fuck into her with more force, letting his hips meet her behind with every thrust. 

This was neither sweet nor was it slow, it was a desperate fuck, an attempt to get rid of the tension lingering between them, the longings neither of them had managed to shake ever since meeting for the first time. It was a perfect chase that now ended with both of them tumbling to their knees, losing all grip on reality, while being fucked into oblivion. 

“Spencer, fuck, you feel so good.” Tears dripped from her eyes while the words broke through her – words that filled Spencer with pride. His smirk began to widen as her moans grew louder, rumbling through their office like a song both played on repeat.

“Touch yourself, make yourself cum on my cock, baby.” Her fingers blindly followed his command, she circled her pulsing bundle to push herself closer and closer towards the edge, high on the sensation that began to thump through her veins. With her teeth buried in her lower lip, (y/n) tried to keep another moan from leaving her, very well knowing that anybody could burst into their office any second now, a risk neither of them should take. And yet they couldn’t care, not when he was buried deep inside of her and about to fuck her through her high. 

(Y/n) began to tremble as her orgasm climbed up her limbs, momentarily robbing her of her sight as black spots appeared in her vision. Spencer kept fucking her from behind, more ferocious with every thrust to chase his own high, set on following her down the edge. Their moans got tangled, ringing in their ears as if fireworks went off in the distance to support them through this long awaited moment. 

Spencer came with a groan of her name, he clung to her as they both rode out their highs with racing hearts and quivering limbs. Heavy pants left them, filling the room with every breath spluttering from their lips. 

“That was,” the rest of her sentence was left hanging in the air. Spencer slowly pulled out of her, he tossed the condom away before finding his way back to her. A slow kiss was shared between them, with his hand cupping her cheek, and hers resting on his shoulders. 

“Perfect, like it was meant to be.”

[interstellarflare]

A Cinderella Story || Anthony Bridgerton

-PART FIVE-

Summary: Have courage, and be kind. Words that you tried to live by ever since the passing of your parents. Though your step-mother and step-sisters did everything in their power to hide you and your status away from the rest of the Ton, you never expected to catch the eye of Viscount Anthony Bridgerton himself.

Authors Note: This is my first Bridgerton series! I had an absolute ball writing this, and I hope you enjoy it! There is a tag list open if anyone wishes to be kept updated for future parts. Gif by @venusianbabie

|PART ONE| |PART TWO| |PART THREE| |PART FOUR|

With the house descending into silence, you allowed yourself a moment to collapse onto the lounge in the living room with a loud sigh. With tired eyes your gaze focused on the ceiling, staring at the crystal chandelier as it glittered brightly.

A small smile crossed your lips, grateful for the peace and quiet. Lady Worthington, Mary and Elizabeth had left for the ball mere minutes ago, all of them excited and nervous about their prospects for the night. You hoped that Elizabeth and Lord Burton would get a chance to speak tonight, she had been so beside herself before she entered the carriage to depart. They had travelled with the Cowper family, who had sneered at your person when you had helped the Worthington’s to the carriage.

The train attached to Lady Worthington’s dress was a nightmare to manage, all bundled up in your arms so as to not drop it in the mud at your feet. You were covered in it now, thanks to a harsh push from Cressida who sent you sprawling onto the ground. Luckily however, you managed to save the train though.

You felt the sting of tears prick your eyes, a sense of sadness overwhelming you. How had you become so unfortunate? To be stuck with a wicked witch for a stepmother, and two stepsisters that laughed at you upon your little trip in the dirt. Elizabeth hadn’t said anything, nor looked your way when Mary and Elizabeth started to cackle loudly. She merely turned away; her eyes downcast as she carried herself into the awaiting carriage.

You missed your father, you missed your mother. Their love and kindness was completely gone from this home, the home you had grown up in as a child. You cried into the cushions, sobbing loudly and desperately. You had never felt so alone, so vulnerable…so lost. You knew that they would want you to be brave, to stay strong, and to have hope that everything will work out in the end. Your mind flickered back to the book you were reading earlier that morning, of the fabled prince charming sweeping the princess off her feet, and living happily ever after.

Perhaps your prince charming was around the corner, perhaps he was waiting for you somewhere to take you away from this now horrid home, filled with heartache and distant memories-

There was a loud knock at the door, so loud that it echoed throughout the foyer and into the living room. You jumped with a small squeak, bolting upright in your position on the lounge. You wiped your eyes, drying your hands on your muddy dress and wiping your nose with your apron. It was unladylike surely, but you were not a Lady anymore. After trying and failing to make yourself look presentable, you hurried towards the door as the knocking sounded again. It sounded desperate, frantic even, your face contorting into a confused expression as you tried to think of who it could be.

It couldn’t be a visitor for Lady Worthington or her daughters, the rest of high society was at Lady Danbury’s ball, and it was way too late in the night for anyone to be here in the first place. So, who could it be? As you opened the door your breath caught in your throat, your heart skipping a beat as you recognised the man that stood before you.

Viscount Anthony Bridgerton smiled, staring down at you with kind and soft expression. His eyes never left yours as he spoke, seemingly examining every inch of your face as he bowed politely.

“Miss Y/n, I apologise for calling so late, would I perhaps be able to come in-“

“Why are you here!?” You found yourself exclaiming, your eyes wide in shock as you felt your heart began to beat wildly. Anthony Bridgerton, one of the most distinguished men on all of the ton was standing on your doorstep. Why?

Anthony chuckled, his charming smile widening as he shrugged his shoulders. “Why not?” he replied lightly, finding amusement in your expression as it changed from shock to pure bewilderment.

“If you are here to see Lady Worthington or her daughters, they are gone” You replied shortly, your gaze falling nervously to the floor as you suddenly became very aware of your current state. You were completely covered in slowly drying mud, bloodshot eyes from crying, you no doubt looked like a complete wreck…wonderful.

Anthony hummed “I’m not here to see then, thank god. They arrived at the ball shortly after I left-“

“Why did you leave? Surely someone will notice your absence, and what will the ton think if you are found here, alone…with me-“

“My brother is good at coming up with excuses, I’m sure he’ll spin some wide tale about my whereabouts”.

“And is that something you wish to deal with?”

“Benedict can be a bit excentric at times, but I trust him wholeheartedly…” Anthony finished, clasping his hands behind his back and standing tall, “..now Miss Y/n, may I come inside? Or are you to leave your visitor out in the cold?”.

It hadn’t occurred to you until now, but as Anthony stood before you, you couldn’t help but notice how tall he truly was. You hadn’t noticed it this morning, but he towered over you, the top of your head just barely reaching his chin. You stared up into his eyes, searching for any sign of jest, that this was all some sort of joke, and a complete figment of your imagination conjured up by your saddened state.

But he was real, and he was here.

You released a short breath, a soft smile crossing your lips as you stepped aside and gestured for him to enter.

Tag List:

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@f0x33 @123iloveyou456 @kaygilles @spilled-coffee-cup @maddielovesurmom321

[cambion-companion]

Baldur's Gate 3 Characters with Virgin Reader

18+ only obviously. Dirty headcanons under the cut. (these are all the "good" endings btw

Halsin would honestly be a little in awed shock when you tell him. He'd treat you tenderly, go slowly and save the more rough lovemaking once you're accustomed to his...girth.

There is a lot of emotional connection that goes into the intimate act and knowing its his partner's first time would mean a great deal to him, he takes the perceived responsibility seriously.

Yall would have to go slow though, to accomodate the guy's size. Has strength as his dump stat yet is built like a brick house.

He's all for the game of seduction, especially if he is still unsure of where he stands with you and your party.

When discovering you're a virgin he acts the part, flirting and using honeyed words to manipulate your heart.

However as the two of you grow closer his feelings also change and he feels anxious about knowing he has your utter consent before taking things further.

He knows what it feels like to be used and wants to avoid causing you the same hurt and feelings of doubt, because against all odds he has begun to care for you.

So much foreplay...SO much foreplay. And you can be in whatever position you want, it's all about your comfort when the time comes to be intimate.

yeah she'd tease you at first, all in good fun, but still she has to get those sharp words in somewhere.

Soon enough the teasing gives way to concerned questions, not probing too deep into your feelings, but enough to give her hints as to how comfortable you feel with her.

We all know Shadowheart is a slow burn romance, so expect a long buildup while your relationship blossoms.

Lots of sweet kisses and witty flirtations, respecting each other's space until the time feels right to take it to the next level.

perhaps it's after one of your many swimming lessons where you Shadowheart takes the reins and becomes the teacher of a different kind of lesson.

She'd be asking questions throughout, listening to your responses and making sure everything is perfect and you're not feeling rushed.

Oh she would be so sweet. You know how Karlach is usually quite boisterous and tends toward the goofy side.

She'd sober up right quick when you discuss something so personal with her and she'd be quite pleased you decided to share this with her.

She promises to take it easy on you, at least at first wink wink, and she has the idea to allow you full control to explore her body as much as you wish.

Feel her heart, or at least where her heart used to be, it blazes hotter under your touch.

She might pop the occasional sweet joke, but her eyes and her care is on you the whole time.

She will ask if now is okay, and make sure to gain your express verbal permission before touching your body herself.

She is gentle at first, as promised, but it becomes hard for her to contain her enthusiasm as your coupling progresses. Remind her if you deem it necessary.

Gale, he'd be surprised but I think pleased.

He would want you to feel comfortable with him, and thus would info dump about his Tressym and the many books he's read about magic and the weave.

It's all about words of affirmation and quality time with Gale, he wants to show you and tell you how much you truly mean to him and reaffirm it is you, not Mystra, with whom is explosive heart now lies.

When the night comes, because he does prefer the romance of a star filled sky, he would ask you if you wish to become one with him.

Maybe astral sex is too soon for the first night, but you can certainly accept when he no doubt extends that offer.

I think it's pretty much canon that she beats the shit out of you when yall have intimate time...that wouldn't change on account of your virginity.

You'd tell her you're a virgin and she might not even know what that means, I wouldn't be surprised. Either that or she truly does not understand why you think it's important to mention.

She would encourage you to take initiative and assume a more dominant role, prodding you (probably with a stick) if you got too shy.

Later on, in her storyline when she becomes more of an individual unto herself, she will understand the softer aspects of lovemaking.

Then she will be more willing to empathize with the feelings that must come with a first-time coupling, and act a little slower accordingly.

Still prepare yourself for the occasional impatient "tchuk".

are you kidding, he'd be the ultimate gentleman.

He'd definitely get you a picnic and take you somewhere that smells better than the party camp and that stew Gale attempted to make for supper.

I feel like he'd be more forward than Gale or Karlach, wanting to feel some semblance of peace that your body and your affection could offer.

He'd for sure be drawn to your inexperience, feeling a sense of protectiveness overcome him. (yes yes I understand this post is full of innuendo)

Might wax poetic about his many adventures but pull him in for another kiss and he'll quickly forget his train of thought.

yes, I made him wait in line, little shit

This cambion knows how to fuck, sit down and block me if you vehemently disagree.

He finds out you're a virgin, and interested in him? Game over.

He plays the long game in all his dealings, and won't be bothered if you choose to play hard to get....in fact he prefers it. Cat and mouse etc.

He's not gentle, nope, but when you're finally in his claws you hardly want him to be.

Doesn't have the bonus of Incubus spittle acting as an aphrodisiac but has had many bedmates and centuries to study how best to use another's body to pleasure his own.

Oh and bring you pleasure of course.

no

Go play DOS2

[missetbilu]

KEEPING A CLOSE EYE*

perv!fred weasley x fem!reader, smut

when fred overhears you and the girls chit chatting about boys that you fancy, he can’t keep his mind from wandering, nor his hand.

warnings: perv concept, jerking off

"Come on, Y/N, there's gotta be someone you fancy." Ginny elbowed you, trying to get a response.

Angelina, Hermione, Ginny and yourself were in your favorite little spot in the library. A very secluded area, where you could study, sneak in some food, talk, without prying eyes or ears.

Although in that afternoon, you were not very much enjoying the topic of choice. Boys. Too shy to come clean about your little crush, you would much rather gossip or even focus on the charms essay due next week than engage in the conversation. But the girls were not having it.

"Yeah, even Hermione admitted to being completely, head over heels, in love with Ron." Angelina teased.

"Hey!" The girl blushed and looked away for a second, but curiosity got the best of her and she gave in to the argument. "She's right tho, you're the only one left."

"I just don't think of any guy here like that."

"In this castle full of boys, you expect me to believe not even a single one of them is your type?" Ginny said.

"Unless you're into girls."

"I'm not." You laughed at Angelina's curious expression. "I like men."

"Then name one you would" Hermione stopped herself mid sentence, suddenly a bit shy, "...you know."

"Fuck?" Angelina completed her thought and they all laughed, Hermione also shushing her and looking around to make sure they were alone.

"Alright." You took a deep breath and tried to sound as nonchalant as you possibly could. "I guess Fred is kind of cute."

"Aw dude, are you serious?" Ginny's disappointment was so clear in her face that the three other girls bursted out laughing.

"Shhh, guys, I don't wanna get kicked out." Hermioned said between giggles.

"Sorry, babe, but this was too good not to laugh at." Angelina responded, still chuckling.

"Too good? All my friends wanna fuck my brothers."

And you all fell into laughter again.

-

It had been a week since Fred discovered that spot of yours to hang out. Whenever you and the girls disappeared from his sight, he would get anxious, wondering where you might be.

Until the day he was looking for a potions book, but found something far better: you.

He managed to hide in the corridor next to the one where the group of girls would sit on the floor and chit chat. Usually he took no interest in the conversations you would have. But not that day. Throughout the whole week he listened to each silly subject the girls brought up, only paying attention to the sound of your angelic voice when you made a comment. That day it was different. Once the tables turned from homework to guys you fancied, Fred felt his heart skip a beat.

He was nervous, his palms becoming sweaty as each of the girls rambled about one boy after the other. He barely listened to the guys his sister brought up, nor to the mentions of his brothers. What mattered most to him was what you were going to say. He was so afraid of hearing another man's name fall out of your pretty lips; so afraid you would confess to feeling attracted to someone else.

But he was also infatuated with the possibility of his name being the one in your mind. You quietly listened to what your friends had to say, too scared to say something yourself, Fred saw that in your expression as he tried to eye your figure from the place where he was hiding. Just thinking about it, being him the person you kept yourself from mentioning, made his trousers feel a bit too tight. His hand travelled down to his growing bulge, but he didn't move it, he didn't want to risk not hearing you.

Your silence allowed his imagination to run wild. Maybe this whole thing got her thinking about how good I would fuck her, and she's afraid of sharing those filthy thoughts. He stroked his cock once, over the fabric of his clothes. Or perhaps she's so lost in the desire of getting filled up with my cum, she didn't even notice how quiet she's been... oh fuck... He did it again and had to hold back a moan.

Fred knew he shouldn’t, but it was as if he had no control over his actions. His hand slipped past his boxers and he stroked his dick, trying so hard to imagine it was you doing it.

Has she ever had a wet dream with me? He wondered. She would wake up sweaty and out of breath. Her panties are completely damp, but it's not because of the sweat, it's arousal. I bet she would be embarrassed, looking around the dorm to see if the other girls are sleeping, before she goes under the covers and... He gasps quietly, his hands going a bit faster now. And she lets her hand touch her dripping cunt... He bites his lip to stop himself from cursing. Her sweet fingers would tease her clit and she wouldn't be able to stop a moan of my name from coming out.

"Alright." When the word left your mouth he slowed down his movement, focusing on the head of his member. It was almost painful the way he teased his tip, trying to pay attention to what you were about to say. He even held his breath, that and the expectation making him even more sensitive. "I guess Fred is kind of cute."

Fred was really thankful for the loud laughter of the group that followed your confession, because the minute he heard your sugary voice saying his name, it was too much. He came in his hand with a low grunt.

He didn't listen to anything said after that. He didn't move or took his hand off of his trousers. He was in shock. As much as he wanted that outcome, it felt unreal now that it happened. He had imagined how you would sound saying you fancied him, what words you would choose and what exactly would be the look on your face. But none of it compared to the reality of it all.

You, such a perfect picture of beauty, intelligence, kindness. The most incredible, endearing and angelical woman he had ever set his eyes upon, out of all people, wanted him.

Fred waited until you all had left to pick himself up from his spot on the floor and attempt to use some spells and his robes to hide the stain in his pants. He did a good job, it wasn't too noticeable, but deep down he didn't care. There was something, or rather someone, much more important in his mind.

He stood in front of the corridor where you had been just a few minutes before. "I guess Fred is kind of cute." That played in his head over and over again, like a broken record. And Fred definitely didn't want to fix it.

[hylianane]

The Strawhats are all very fiercely protective of each other, they care about each other in equal measures, but I love that they’re always the quickest to act when its matters concerning Robin. Robin is who they express their protectiveness and love for must often and most explicitly. if its for her, even a member of the ‘coward trio’ like Nami will threaten to beat up CP0 agents. Yknow like the “How dare you make Robin cry?!” misunderstanding in Egghead, and everyone vowing to protect her in Punk Hazard and blushing like crazy when she says she trusts them? And it doesn’t just make me happy because Robin is a character that I hold dear to my heart, but in a meta way, I appreciate to see so much love being expressed towards like? An older woman?

Not that Robin is an OLD WOMAN by ANY MEANS, the woman is thirty. But she’s very unique as a character because as an older woman, she doesn’t serve any of the usual spots in the Strawhat’s life. She’s not their mother, their mentor, their boss. And she’s very independent, physically strong, and one of the most brilliant and knowledgeable people in the One Piece universe. She’s not someone’s charge, their daughter, or their pupil. She’s not even, like, actively being asked to use her skills to help Luffy’s mission, Luffy has no personal interest in the poneglyphs and ancient histories of the world, she’s doing that because she wants to. And it’s so. neat that she’s allowed to do that? An example of an adult woman in fiction who isn’t being pressured to be strong for anyone, and even more than that, is at every turn treated gently and reminded that she can rest, she can rely on others, that she will be protected. That she is loved for being herself. That is so neat? It is so unique?

Oda is NOT a shining example of feminism guys, (often the opposite), I know this, I am not delusional. But a character that fulfills this specific female fantasy of being seen as adult and capable and intelligent, but without the drawback of being expected to play caretaker- being so casually cooked up and presented by some guy? That’s pretty neat. I’m high-fying him over that for sure

[genshingorlsrevengeance]

Can I see Furina, Navia, Lynette, and Yae Miko dealing with their S/O who wears a mask all the time and never seen your face before? S/O got hurt badly protecting them and they took S/O mask off and see what S/O looks like and help them.

(Genshin Impact) Furina, Navia, and Lynette with a S/O who wears a mask

This is the way. I'd do Yae but my brain is at maximum capacity writing for the three, so remind me to write Yae later!

POTENTIAL POST-ARCHON QUEST SPOILERS FOR THE FONTAINE CHARACTERS UNDER THE CUT!

Furina had become very used to the sight of her S/O's mask.

It was reminiscent of a theatre mask, fittingly enough. The holes for the eyes were completely black, and there was no expression for the mouth.

No one could identify what S/O was feeling, other than determining it by voice alone.

Many people found it suspicious, but she wasn't one to judge.

Especially since Furina herself wore a metaphorical mask for the past few centuries.

And besides, there were far more suspicious people in Tevyat than the one person just covering their face.

Furina had grown to love S/O since they did the same for her. They cared for the person underneath the facade, and Furina did the same.

During their travels, they had come under attack by rogue Meka and were caught off guard.

Although Furina cannot not die, S/O very much could, and had gotten terribly injured during the skirmish.

===

(Furina) "S/O!"

Furina quickly dispatched the last Meka with her vision, a burst of Hydro sending it tumbling into the waters below in pieces.

S/O had finished off their attackers with a sword bisecting the machine. However, they were breathing heavily and leaning against a nearby rock, sliding down.

The mask betrayed nothing of what they felt, but she could tell they were hurt.

Panic began to set in Furina's head, quickly scrambling to help. Her eyes glowed a bright blue before a familiar appeared next to S/O, healing the worst of their injuries.

(Furina) "S/O, are you okay?!"

Her usual bravado was absent though it was slowly starting to come back when she saw their breathing begin to steady itself.

(S/O) "Could....be worse, thanks."

Furina's hand placed itself onto her chest, breathing a deep sigh of relief.

(Furina) "Thank goodness! Come now, we shall get ourselves some rest and-"

A red stream trickled down S/O's face, coming from underneath the mask and catching her attention.

(Furina) "Your head! Allow me to-"

Furina's hand stopped itself as it quickly reached for their mask. She had never seen S/O without it, and she wasn't sure if they wanted to be seen with it off.

Silently answering her, S/O's hand gently reached up to her arm, and nodding.

(S/O) "Not a word of this to anyone."

Furina gave them a weary smile.

(Furina) "It depends on how handsome/pretty you are, S/O."

Hearing their pained chuckle, Furina slowly took off the mask and saw their face for the first time. She couldn't help but stare for a few seconds before moving to clean the blood from their head.

It scared her so much to see them hurt, but it was also comforting to see them give her a reassuring smile back, and to see those eyes staring back into hers for the first time.

(S/O) "...D-Don't just stare at me like that, Furina."

(Furina) "How could I not? You look incredible, simply marvelous!"

(S/O) "Even with blood gushing out of me?"

(Furina) "Hah, especially so. It makes you look rather dashing."

S/O could tell she was joking, as her hands were still gripping tightly onto theirs from worry.

(S/O) "Once I actually look presentable and not beat up, you can stare all you like."

(Furina) "I will hold you to that. Now, let's get you cleaned up!"

Furina not so subtly stared at S/O on the way back, smiling back when S/O noticed her and broke off eye contact. How cute!

Navia did raise an eyebrow at S/O upon first meeting, but she quickly became accustomed to it.

It's not like she dressed all that subtly herself after all.

And besides, what matters the most about a person is what's on the inside!

And to Navia, S/O was one of the most trustworthy people you could meet, weird mask aside.

She did not pry on their reason for wearing it, only wanting to ask when the time seemed right.

But that time came quicker than she thought after a dangerous encounter with bandits.

===

(Navia) "Feeling lucky?!-"

Her umbrella gun's blast blew away the ground the bandits were standing on, sending them flying back.

After seeing them retreat after dealing with the remaining ruffians, she smirked in satisfaction.

(Navia) "Serves you punks right, now get out of here! Hah! S/O, did you-"

Turning back to brag about her skills to S/O, she suddenly noticed that they weren't responding, and worst of all, they were on the ground with red on their hands.

Navia stopped breathing for a split second before nearly sprinting over to them, quickly lifting them up.

(Navia) "No! No no no, please, no!"

(S/O) "...N-Navia-"

(Navia) "Please, stay with me! I can't lose you too!"

Navia's hand brushed against the side of their head, her eyes welling up with tears as her heart raced.

S/O's hands wiped away the tears from her face before speaking up.

(S/O) "I'll live. They just grazed me. Promise."

(Navia) "Y-You...You better...!"

S/O slowly reached for their mask and took it off to look Navia in the eye. A small amount of blood came from their lips, but they thankfully displayed no signs of bleeding out.

Navia stared wide eyed at the sight of their face, taking it in. This was the first time she had ever seen them with it off, and this was not the time she was expecting to.

(S/O) "S-See? Heh, perfectly fine...OW!"

Navia suddenly grabbed their face, squishing it repeatedly with one hand as she rubbed off the blood with her thumb.

(Navia) "Why...Why in the world did you not take that off sooner?! You're simply breathtaking!"

(S/O) "Becushyewd'dewdis!" (Because you'd do this!)

They could not form the sentence correctly with how Navia's hands were squishing their cheeks together, as if she were squeezing a ball.

S/O gently grabbed Navia's wrist and lifted it off their face, chuckling lightly.

(S/O) "Not that I don't mind your hand on me, but can you at least do so without feeling me up like a toy?"

(Navia) "A-Ah, my apologies! You're hurt as well, so we need to get you to a doctor!"

Throughout the trip, S/O caught Navia taking several glances to examine their face.

Lynette had kept her eye on S/O the moment she heard rumors about a masked individual going around Fontaine.

She had learned to watch out for any signs of danger in a person, especially if it concerned herself or Lyney.

What had shocked her the most was that S/O had displayed no reason to distrust them, other than the mask.

In fact, they were one of the most trusting people she had met, looking into any information about them, nothing about their past was particularly alarming.

So that meant their reasons for wearing the mask was less to conceal an identity and more personal.

The two had gotten to know each other after S/O was found taking care of a few stray cats around the city, both of them quietly enjoying their time.

After that, it became a lunch or two, and a few conversations here and there.

Eventually, it blossomed into something more as the two spent time, neither of them fully revealing everything about their past.

S/O didn't pry, so Lynette didn't either. At least not after she got to know the person behind the mask.

But after S/O had saved her from rather vicious wildlife...

===

S/O and Lynette took a moment to breathe, escaping to higher ground from the creatures attacking them.

(Lynette) "That was too close. S/O, thanks for-"

Her ears turned sideways as she realized there was blood falling from S/O's head.

(Lynette) "You're bleeding! Sit down!"

(S/O) "O-Ow...No need to tell me twice."

S/O almost collapsed before Lynette caught them, slowly making them lean against a nearby rock as she grabbed their mask.

She took it off without thinking and was stunned by seeing their face for the first time.

Her ears immediately straightened up as the words got caught in her throat. Lynette almost forgot what she was doing until seeing the blood trickle down.

S/O made no motion to stop her, only giving her a small smile that made her heart race even faster. After cleaning the injury on their head, she averted her gaze.

(Lynette) "...Sorry. I should have asked first."

(S/O) "You were worried, so you acted. If anything, I'm flattered."

Hearing their voice so clearly was messing with her head. To finally connect their soothing voice to a face was almost unnatural to her. Part of her was convinced that she'd never actually see it, at least not this soon.

(S/O) "You told me quite a bit about yourself and Lyney already, I think it's about time I returned the favor, anyway."

Lynette returned their smile, albeit hers was not as big.

(Lynette) "I suppose that's a fair trade."

She was finally able to look them in the eye for a few seconds before putting the mask back into their hands.

(Lynette) "...You should have that mask off more often."

(S/O) "I'll do that if you promise me you'll do the same...As long as it's only the two of us."

Her ears twitched for a brief moment, processing what they were asking.

She sincerely doubted at this point they were the type to blabber about anything they were told, something she was thankful for.

And if she got to see the true them, maybe that wasn't the most outrageous demand they could make.

Lynette had seen worse deals, anyway.

(Lynette) "Only for the two of us."

S/O responded by holding her hand tightly, and she responded in kind.

(Lynette) "First, we need to get back to the city. I've had enough outdoors for today."

(S/O) "Heh, agreed."

On the way back, Lynette could not keep her eyes off their face and felt a tad disappointed watching them put it back on as they reached civilization again.

[baelabong]

ʙɪᴛᴛᴇʀꜱᴡᴇᴇᴛ - (ʟᴇᴇꜱᴇᴏ x ꜰᴇᴍ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ)

Plot: Leeseo's smile faltered as she approached Y/N, realizing the dare was no longer just a game.

Genre: fluff,angst

————————————————————————

Leeseo twirled the pen in her hand, her fingers absentmindedly playing with the small object as she leaned back in her chair. Around her, her friends chatted animatedly, the room filled with the buzz of their conversation. She feigned disinterest, but her mind was racing with the thrill of the dare they had just posed.

“Alright, everyone, i’m bored,” Yujin said, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “We need a good dare for Leeseo.”

One of the other friends, Minji, grinned wickedly. “How about this: Leeseo has to ask Y/N out on a date. And not just ask—she actually has to make Y/N believe she’s into her.”

The group burst into laughter, exchanging looks of approval. Leeseo’s heart skipped a beat. The idea seemed both outrageous and amusing, and the more she thought about it, the more it intrigued her. Y/N was a quiet, reserved girl who kept to herself. It would be a challenge, but one Leeseo felt she could handle. Besides, her pride wouldn’t allow her to back down.

“Seriously?” Wonyoung’s voice cut through the laughter, her tone disapproving. “That’s a bit harsh, don’t you think? Y/N’s a really nice person. I’m not sure it’s a good idea to mess with her like that.”

“Oh, come on, Wonyoung,” Yujin said, waving her hand dismissively. “It’s just a bit of fun. Leeseo will do it, and it’ll be hilarious. Y/N never even has to know it’s a joke.”

Wonyoung shook her head, her expression troubled. “It’s not about whether it’s funny or not. It’s about treating someone with respect. What if Y/N actually starts to like Leeseo? This could be really hurtful.”

Leeseo, watching the exchange, felt her pulse quicken. Part of her agreed with Wonyoung, but her pride and the excitement of the dare overshadowed those reservations. “Come on, Wonyoung,” she said with a smirk. “It’s just a game. I’ll make it convincing, and then we can all laugh about it.”

The group cheered, rallying around Leeseo. “Exactly,” Minji said, nodding enthusiastically. “It’s all in good fun. And besides, Y/N’s so quiet and reserved—she’ll never see it coming.”

Wonyoung’s frown deepened, but she remained silent, clearly upset but outnumbered.

———

Approaching Y/N after school wasn’t difficult. Leeseo found her leaning against a locker, engrossed in a book, seemingly lost in her own world. Her heart raced with a mix of excitement and nerves. This was it—the moment to put the dare into action.

Leeseo took a deep breath, trying to keep her tone light and playful. “Hey, Y/N,” she called out, her voice cheerful. Y/N looked up, her expression neutral but curious. Leeseo offered a warm smile, hoping to make her invitation sound as genuine as possible. “I was wondering if you’d like to go to the amusement park with me this weekend?”

Y/N blinked, her eyes narrowing slightly as if trying to gauge whether Leeseo was being serious or just playing a game. She set her book aside and straightened up, a hint of skepticism in her gaze. “The amusement park?”

Leeseo nodded, her smile unwavering. “Yeah, just thought it’d be fun to hang out. I know you’re usually busy, but I thought it might be a nice change of pace.”

Y/N’s expression remained guarded, her lips pressed into a thin line. “Why do you want to go with me, though?”

Leeseo’s heart skipped a beat. This was the tricky part. “Oh, you know, just thought it’d be nice to get to know you better,” she said, trying to sound casual. “Plus, it’s always more fun with someone who’s up for a good time.”

Y/N studied her for a moment, clearly trying to read beyond Leeseo’s cheerful facade. The silence stretched, and Leeseo’s smile began to falter slightly under the scrutiny. The skepticism in Y/N’s eyes was palpable, and Leeseo could see the wheels turning in her mind.

Finally, Y/N sighed, her shoulders relaxing just a bit. “Alright, I guess. Sure, why not?”

Relief washed over Leeseo, but she quickly masked it with a nod and a grin. “Great! It’ll be fun, I promise. I’ll pick you up on Saturday morning, okay?”

Y/N gave a hesitant nod, still appearing uncertain. “Okay.”

“See you then,” Leeseo said, trying to sound upbeat.

“Yeah, see you,” Y/N replied, her voice quiet.

——

The weekend arrived faster than Leeseo anticipated, and she found herself genuinely excited as she prepared for the day ahead. The amusement park loomed on the horizon, and Leeseo was eager to see how the day would unfold. She picked out a pair of wide legged jeans and a cropped singlet underneath her Northface puffer.

When Saturday morning came, Leeseo drove to Y/N’s house, her heart beating a little faster than usual. She was a bundle of nerves and anticipation. Y/N appeared at the door, dressed comfortably for the day, and Leeseo couldn’t help but notice how her nerves seemed to melt away when she saw Y/N’s shy smile.

The drive to the amusement park was filled with light conversation, and as they arrived, Leeseo could barely contain her excitement. She dragged Y/N through the entrance, pointing out all the rides and attractions with enthusiasm. “Come on, Y/N, the roller coaster’s this way!” Leeseo exclaimed, practically pulling Y/N along.

They spent the day darting from ride to ride, the thrill of each new adventure making them both laugh and cheer. The carnival atmosphere was infectious, and Leeseo noticed how Y/N’s initial hesitation slowly transformed into genuine enjoyment. The sound of Y/N’s laughter became more frequent, and each time Leeseo heard it, a small pang of something unidentifiable tugged at her heart.

For a while, the dare seemed to dissolve into the background, overshadowed by the fun they were having. Leeseo found herself genuinely absorbed in the day, her earlier motives fading as she watched Y/N’s eyes light up with excitement. It was clear Y/N was having a great time, and seeing her so happy made Leeseo’s heart swell.

As the day drew to a close, they walked through the park, their faces flushed from the sun and the day’s activities. Leeseo bought them cotton candy, and they shared it as they strolled. The ease between them was undeniable, and Leeseo began to realize that she enjoyed Y/N’s company far more than she had anticipated.

Over the next few days, Leeseo continued to hang out with Y/N. They went for coffee after school, and Leeseo couldn’t help but notice how comfortable and natural their conversations were. They talked about everything from their favorite books to their plans for the future, and every meeting felt like a new adventure.

They watched movies at Y/N’s place, spending hours curled up on the couch, discussing plots and characters in a way that felt intimate and familiar. Leeseo began to notice how Y/N’s subtle smiles and quiet laughter were no longer just a result of the dare. Instead, they seemed to be part of a genuine connection forming between them.

The more time they spent together, the more Leeseo’s initial determination to complete the dare began to waver. It was supposed to be a game, a challenge to be won, but now it felt like something much deeper. Leeseo found herself questioning her own motives and realizing that the line between the dare and her growing feelings for Y/N was becoming increasingly blurred.

As she lay in bed at night, thinking about their time together, Leeseo couldn’t help but wonder if the dare had unintentionally led her to something real. The thought both excited and frightened her. She had started to care about Y/N, not just as part of a game, but as someone she genuinely wanted to be with.

It was a few days later when Y/N, heading back to class after a bathroom break, overheard her name being mentioned. Curiosity piqued, she stopped just outside the door, listening.

“She totally fell for it,” Leeseo’s voice rang out, laughter bubbling from her lips. “I can’t believe she actually thinks I’m into her. This dare was too easy.”

Y/N’s heart sank, the color draining from her face as realization hit her. It was all a joke—a game. Every smile, every laugh, every touch—it had all been a lie. She gasped, unable to stop the sound from escaping. The laughter inside the classroom came to an abrupt halt.

Leeseo’s eyes widened as she spotted Y/N standing at the door. But instead of faltering, Leeseo’s laugh continued, the sound almost forced now, though still mocking. She didn’t want to seem like she was suddenly affected by Y/N’s presence. She didn’t want her friends to think she’d grown soft.

Y/N felt her chest tighten, her heart breaking with every passing second. The humiliation was unbearable. She turned on her heel, needing to get away, needing air, needing to escape the hurt that was suffocating her.

As she fled the classroom, she collided with Wonyoung, one of Leeseo’s closest friends. Wonyoung, seeing the devastation on Y/N’s face, quickly wrapped her arms around her, pulling her close in an almost protective embrace. Y/N let herself lean into Wonyoung’s chest, her face buried in the soft fabric of Wonyoung’s shirt as tears threatened to spill over.

Wonyoung didn’t say anything, didn’t need to. She simply held Y/N, gently guiding her away from the door, away from Leeseo’s cruel laughter and the friends who had set this all in motion.

The walk to a quieter place was silent, the only sound being the occasional sniffle from Y/N. Finally, they reached an empty classroom, and Wonyoung closed the door behind them. She sat Y/N down, still not letting go, giving her the time she needed to gather herself.

When Y/N finally pulled back, her eyes red but no longer crying, she looked up at Wonyoung with a mix of confusion and hurt. “Why?” was all she could manage.

Wonyoung sighed, her expression softening. “Leeseo… she doesn’t realize what she’s doing until it’s too late. She’s… she’s immature sometimes, gets caught up in things she shouldn’t.” Wonyoung paused, choosing her words carefully. “But I think, maybe, along the way, she started to care about you for real. She just didn’t know how to stop the game once it started.”

Y/N shook her head, the hurt still too fresh. “It doesn’t matter,” she whispered. “It was all just a joke to her.”

Wonyoung frowned, knowing she couldn’t fix this for either of them. But she could be here, for Y/N. “Maybe it started as a joke,” Wonyoung said quietly, “but I’ve seen the way Leeseo looks at you. I think she’s just too scared to admit she messed up.”

Y/N didn’t respond, the words not reaching her. The pain was too deep, the betrayal too fresh. All she could feel was the sting of Leeseo’s laughter echoing in her ears.

Leeseo might have played a game, but Y/N was the one who got hurt. And no amount of excuses could change that.

Meanwhile, Leeseo, feeling the weight of what had just happened, found herself unable to stay in the classroom. The realization that Y/N had heard everything was gnawing at her, the guilt settling in. She excused herself from her friends, their laughter fading behind her as she hurried down the hallway, her heart pounding in her chest.

Leeseo didn’t know where she was going, only that she needed to find Y/N, to explain, to say something—anything—that could make this right. Her heart pounded as she hurried through the empty hallways, her mind a whirlwind of regret and fear. The sound of her footsteps echoed loudly in the silence, amplifying her growing sense of dread.

Turning a corner, she spotted them—Y/N and Wonyoung—standing together in an empty classroom. Leeseo’s breath caught in her throat as she slowed to a stop, her heart racing. She watched from the doorway, feeling a mix of guilt and something else—something sharp and painful—twisting inside her.

In the classroom, Wonyoung was gently tilting Y/N’s chin up, her thumb brushing away the remnants of Y/N’s tears. The sight was almost more than Leeseo could bear. The tenderness in Wonyoung’s touch, the way she looked at Y/N with such compassion—it was clear that Wonyoung wasn’t just offering comfort; she was offering something deeper, something more sincere than the façade Leeseo had presented.

Leeseo stood frozen, her heart aching as she watched the scene unfold. She wanted to step forward, to apologize, to explain that the dare had started as a joke but had turned into something real for her. But the words caught in her throat, her body feeling as though it was made of lead.

Wonyoung’s gaze flickered up, catching Leeseo’s through the open door. For a brief moment, their eyes locked. The understanding between them was palpable, a silent exchange that spoke volumes. Wonyoung’s eyes were resolute, her message clear: Y/N was no longer Leeseo’s concern. This was Wonyoung’s space now, her chance to mend the hurt that Leeseo had caused.

Before Leeseo could even think to react, Wonyoung leaned down, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to Y/N’s forehead. The gesture was tender and protective, a silent promise of care and affection. It was more than a simple comfort; it was an act of intimacy that made Leeseo’s stomach drop and her heart shatter.

The sight of Wonyoung wrapping an arm around Y/N’s shoulders, pulling her close as they turned away, was the final blow. Leeseo’s heart sank as she watched them walk away together, disappearing from view. The door closed with a soft click, leaving Leeseo standing alone in the empty hallway, the weight of her actions crashing down on her.

The hallway seemed to stretch endlessly before her. The echoes of her laughter, once so carefree, now seemed to mock her. The truth was inescapable: she had let something real slip through her fingers, all because she had been too stubborn to recognize what was growing between them.

Leeseo slumped against the wall, sliding down to sit on the floor, her head in her hands. The guilt and regret were almost too much to bear. She had set out to win a dare but had ended up losing something far more valuable. The reality of her actions hit her with full force—she had hurt Y/N, and now she was watching someone else take the place she had so carelessly discarded.

The hallway was silent now, except for the faint sound of Leeseo’s own breathing, each breath a reminder of the pain she had caused. She could only sit there, feeling the crushing weight of her mistakes, as the realization settled in: she had missed her chance, and the consequences were hers to face alone.

The bitter taste of regret lingered on her tongue as she turned and walked away, the echoes of her own laughter mocking her with every step.

[mr-ys-phantasma]

🌙 Moon Phases 🌙

Agatha Harkness X Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1369

Chapter 40:

You all turned to look at Billy, who grabbed his little spell book from his body bag. "At least we have our personal items."

Immediately, you rushed to check your body bags, all bearing similar expressions of relief by being reunited with your pendants.

You wore your own necklace, the light metal cold against your flushing skin, and adrenaline still coursing through your pumping veins. Your fingers gently brushed the three moon phases, and you closed your eyes, taking a deep breath.

Wearing it, somehow, made you feel more secure and safe; a placebo effect that helped calm you down a little more and allow your head to be clearer.

The moment was interrupted, though by the sound of the morgue drawers being pulled back into place, the knocking sound almost startling you.

If that was not enough, the growing lights above you started to flicker before one shut down.

"The countdown," you exclaimed, eyes following the circle formed by the lights; while wondering how quick each light would turn off after the other.

Deep inside your instincts were telling you that the time would not last long, not as long as the other trials.

Agatha noticed that Jen was rather quiet, not panicking like usual. Instead, Agatha swore Jen was actually thinking of something for a change.

"You seem relaxed." She called her out. "Usually, at this point, you're either complaining loudly or freaking out loudly."

Jen gave her a hard look, clearly not in the mood for her annoying antics. "I'm thinking."

"Oh. About what?

"How to save your ass."

"Pardon?"

"I couldn't save Lilia. I didn't even try to save Alice. I'll be damned if I let you three idiots die."

You placed a hand on your waist as you looked at her, clearly not happy being called an Idiot or any of your companions being called that.

However, you held back any remark for the moment. It was the first time you saw Jen actually putting others above herself, when all those trials she had been selfish and the first to go when given the chance.

And considering you once again needed to work together somehow to make it through, this worked in your favour.

Of course, Agatha did not seem to share your thoughts.

"Wow. Such a purpose. How are you gonna do that without any magic?" She questioned, in the mood for an argument.

"Agatha, that's enough," you said, no authority coming from your voice much to your dismay.

Your body was still on edge, and it was taking a lot of mental training to remain calm and try to think of a solution, rather than letting your emotions and your haunting memories get the best of you.

Thankfully, you were not the only one ready to defend Jen.

"Y/N is right!" Billy said, putting his foot down. "She saved you from poisoning. She saved all of us. All while bound." He looked at Jen and offered a weak smile. "Maybe you don't need it."

Jen wanted to believe him, but she had a hard time too. Not that you blamed her. Your magic might be sort of a curse and a blessing to you, but you can not imagine your life without it.

"Well, if that's true, that means I've wasted the last century of my life." Jen commented. "That doctor in Boston didn't take anything from me. I gave it up."

It was then that you all noticed Agatha fidgeting faintly by tuning her fingers together and avoiding eye contact.

Unlike the others, you knew she acted that way when she knew something but refused to tell. Something that actually made her feel guilty, even slightly.

"Ags," you called her out, but she did not look you in the eyes. "You know something," she was about to argue, but you beat her to it. "I know that face and that fidgeting. I know what it means"

Defeated, Agatha started to throw parts of a story that matched Jen's story, and everyone made the connection.

"I didn't know it was you! It was the 1920s. I did the odd spell for bank notes. I don't know. The patriarchy really shelled out to shush a lady. It was bind or burn!" She justified herself, or so she tried.

For Jen was furious finding out the truth, and she had every right to be. With anger blinding her, she rushed to Agatha and even pulled a thick lock of her hair in one strong pull.

Agatha didn't even flinch at the pull, having built quite a pain tolerance thanks to Rio. She didn't even fight when Jen tied her wrists together with that strand of hair.

She might not react to it, but you were about to. No matter what took place back then, seeing Jen ripping out Agatha's hair like that made your protective instincts hit in.

Forgetting your own anxiety caused by the closed room, you were about to move and tackle Jen; having forgotten your powers worked normally.

Billy grabbed you by the waist and kept you back, surprised by your strength, considering he was taller than you and clearly heavier.

"Wait! Wait! Look!" He told you as he kept pulling you away from the two witches. "Yhe unbinding ritual."

This made you stop your fighting and look, realizing he was right. The strand of hair and the wrapped wrists were the basis for the ritual.

Jen was not trying to harm Agatha, you realized. She was trying to break the binds that kept her magic dormant and get back what was sealed away a century ago.

You calmed down, and Billy let you go. He stood right behind you, and the two of you watched as Jen repeated the same mantra again and again.

You hold nothing.

You hold nothing.

You hold nothing.

Each time that phrase was spoken with more power, with mode determination... with more need to work.

Jen's voice cracked, but she kept going, holding on every beat of hope that was left within her... one last chance to get back what was stolen from her.

In the end, it seemed to work based on Jen's expression.

Her face changed from shock to realisation and she could not help but fall on her knees, arms cradled in front of her chest and let out gasps and faint cries of hapiness; pink magic coming alive from her palms.

The sight broke your heart, seeing how Jen truly felt finally having her magic back.

Magic for witches was their essence, their core, and their will to live. It was part of them and having it sealed away, unable to sense it... to recreate this feeling of power and mysticism that existed within...

It was a fate worse than death.

Suddenly, Jen disappeared right in front of your eyes.

"What?" You exclaimed and rubbed your eyes, fearing your mind was playing tricks with you.

"Where did she go?" Billy asked next.

"Out of here," Agatha replied in a soft tone, deep down actually feeling happiness for Jen; capable of actually taking back what she was looking for.

You frowned. "But we are not done with the trials, yet"

Agatha looked at you, her gaze softening. "She is done with it. Her trial has already passed, and she got what she wanted."

You felt the need to argue but stopped yourself. The Road was a place unknown, and not even you or Agatha or Rio knew much about it. Each time it worked differently, each time seemed to make up something new.

So, who says the trials were not shortened? Or perhaps, it was giving a chance for some to find what they are looking for and be free without having to finish the road.

This was a comforting thought, deep down wanting to end this and get out.

The fact remained, though, how were you going to find what you are looking for? When you pretty much had nothing to work with and unlike Jen; there was no binding whatsoever that could be broken.

Chapter 41

[bella-goths-wife]

Imagine V’s pet just starts calling Vox dad and the other two uncle and Auntie, they don’t even do it intentionally it just slips sometimes.

Would Vs pet call Vox dad accidentally?

Warnings: Valentino, mentions of SA and abuse, dehumanising reader

If I’m being honest, I don’t think you’d call Vox dad unless you were trying to manipulate him

He would absolutely do the “please, call me dad” or the “I’m practically your dad” line on you and you’d just look at him with a cringing expression

Because you’d be thinking about why on earth you’d call the man who regularly abuses you, lets others abuse you, exploits you and is actively holding your soul hostage dad?

Like, why couldn’t he just be absent like your real dad?

So i think you’d only ever do it if you wanted to manipulate Vox into giving you something or letting you refuse a request from the others

As for velvette, you call her auntie and she’s beating your ass

Your not a real person to velvette, your an item she obsesses over and a pet that brings her entertainment and fulfils her needs

She doesn’t view you as family because then she’d have to view you as an equal

If she’s in a good mood she’ll allow you to call her a shortened nickname like ‘vel’ but that’s very rare

If you have to call her a nickname she’d want you to just stick to calling her boss

Auntie just doesn’t fit her image of herself, or her image of the relationship you two share

Now I could see Valentino being weird or playful and saying something like “come spend the day with your uncle Val”

But apart from that I doubt he’d like it if you called him uncle

He views you as more of a person than velvette does, but he still also sees you as just something that fulfils his needs and give him entertainment

Calling him uncle would give him a small realisation of how he’s treating you when he’s touching you or sexualising you

And he does not like to be self aware of his actions, he wants to pretend that he is untouchable to judgement or morality

So being reminded that what he’s doing is actually abuse to a person who he finds himself caring about is an unpleasant experience for him, and he doesn’t like to experience negative emotions

If you did call it him, it would be a similar reaction to how he reacted in the breakdown fic

He’d just stop his actions and let you leave while he contemplates what he’s done

He’d probably go to your room or voxs room in the middle of the night and ask to be held

He’d demand to be praised and reassured that his actions are justified

All in all I think the characters you’d accidentally call auntie, uncle, dad or mom would probably be Charlie, vaggie, lucifer, Rosie, alastor, angel, husk and cherri bomb

But that’ll probably become self explanatory in future fics

Tag list so far :)

@lilyalone @the-faceless-bride @corvid007 @repostingmyfavs @buttercupfangirl

[thisgirlnamedblusy]

heyyy, i hope you're having a nice day! could i request a story about an insecure reader who had a relationship before donna, but got dumped by her partner for being too "boring" so she thinks donna will leave her too so she asks one the dimitrescu sisters for help to try to be more "sexy" or "fun" for donna. the result is reader giving donna a lap dance, although donna, who very much enjoyed it, sees through her insecurities and comforts her after learning about reader past partner and how they made her feel. also jealous and possessive donna mode on after knowing reader's been asking for help to the dimitrescu sisters on how to be sexy.

hope that's okay, thanks!

Yess!!! Thank you for your request!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!! :))))

Boring

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Fluff, suggestive themes, Donna being Donna

Word count: 8,055

Summary:  You don't want to repeat your failures...

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

“Um, Donna…” you said.

The nights of passion were a comforting routine, the symbol that your life would never be the same again. It could never be the same with the veiled lady, Lord, doll and nightmare, Donna Beneviento.

After a relationship that still tormented you, your mind didn’t consider starting the journey towards another love again, to let your heart search for a place, a different chest in which to beat.

Your past love affair was a disaster, one of almost catastrophic dimensions. You had no desire for anything. You didn’t believe that anyone could notice a loser like you.

Unintentionally, you attracted the attention of the least expected person, the doll maker.

Meeting her was a journey full of obstacles that she herself placed between you, a dance of blushes, shy questions and funny reactions from the lady's doll, the irreverent Angie.

Your lack of spirit, your innate shame and your shyness were responsible for that previous failure. At least, that's how you saw it, that stupid village girl did see it that way.

When you repeat something many times it gets closer to a real statement, to a truth that sounded more and more convincing. That was what happened to you; part of your insecurities was marked in everything you did, turning the small conversations with the lady in black into pathetic babbling and embarrassed laughter.

Apparently, your reluctance to fall in love again wasn’t the least of a problem for Donna, finding the charm in what you believed to be your greatest flaws, seeing in that shy smile the prettiest one the Lord had ever seen.

That patience, that desire to discover gave you enough courage to unlock the chains that kept your heart imprisoned inside you, allowing it to fly free towards that black dress, to allow yourself the luxury of loving again.

Donna wasn’t the dangerous woman everyone talked about. She was not the monster that, according to the villagers, was hiding behind that black veil.

A beautiful, sensitive, sick but intelligent woman became the new target of your damaged heart. Lord or not, she was the place you wanted to be, the old mansion became your home and her perfume was the veil that served to protect you from harm, from pain, from suffering again.

“Mm…” A lazy murmur came out of her body as she covered herself with the sheets.

“Wait, don't fall asleep yet,” you insisted, shaking the brunette's body, forcing her to look at you uncomfortably. “I have to ask you something.”

“What's wrong, tesoro?” Donna asked, sitting up without being able to hide her expression of disgust.

“Nothing really, but… I-I was wondering if… If you had enjoyed it,” you finally said, playing with the sheets, also covering your body and looking away.

“Mm?” she asked again with a yawn, frowning at your strange question. “Of course I enjoyed it, (Y/N), as always.”

“Oh, okay…” you sighed, but not relieved.

At first, the relationship with Donna was almost perfect. Dealing with her problems, her jealousy, or her insecurities was a complicated task, but one that you quickly mastered. The concern of obtaining something similar to a perfect relationship made you, unintentionally, forget about your own demons.

Your insecurities had been hidden under the concern of being what Donna was looking for, of understanding her past, her sometimes erratic attitude or her exaggerated jealousy. Your way of being modified by the contempt of your former girlfriend became more present as your relationship calmed down.

“W-Wait,” you said hurriedly, turning back on the light that the lady in black turned off, thus ending that pathetic conversation. “Wait a moment, Donna.”

“Ugh, (Y/N), I need to rest, what do you want?” the brunette protested, rubbing her eye with tiredness and discomfort.

“I-I'm sorry... it's just that...” you murmured, moving away from her accusing gaze. “It's just that I haven't felt that... Well, that you've enjoyed it.”

“(Y/N), why do you say that?” she asked, leaning towards you, moving your head with two fingers so that your eyes spoke for you. “Hey, look at me, what's wrong with you?”

“It's probably nonsense but... it's that I've barely heard you and... well, that's something that...” you said with blushing cheeks, intimidated by Lady Beneviento's excessively worried reaction.

“Oh, that's it,” Donna said, her voice soft, with a sad and tired smile. “You shouldn't worry about it, tesoro, you know I don't like to yell,” she said to calm your fears, as if she somehow knew about them.

“I know, but before you… well… you moaned…” you explained nervously, playing with the sheets. “Have I done something wrong?”

“What? No, of course you haven’t,” she answered quickly, shaking her head and grabbing your hand under the sheets. “No, amore mio, you're perfect.”

“Well, thank you…” you whispered, resting your head on her shoulder, letting her arms wrap around your body, serving as a warm remedy for your absurd worries. “But, but…”

“Shh… now let's go to sleep, okay?” the lady said after a brief kiss on the lips, caressing your ruffled hair in a loving way, drawing a finally calm smile from your lips.

Resigned to being left without resolving your doubts, you let her naked body manipulate yours and embrace it in the darkness of the old bedroom. Her warm skin was comforting, but your mind was unable to calm down.

With your eyes open, your mind wandered through that habitual act of passion. Donna wasn’t an expert in love.

Even so, it didn’t take long for her to master the curious art of making love, to give you all the pleasure you didn’t believe you deserved and to receive the one that you were willing to give her. Kisses, moans, gasps, labored breathing, words soaked with desire…

That routine adventure always gave a spicy touch to your life, a moment where silence didn’t dominate the old room, where Donna wasn’t afraid to speak, to say what she thought, what you made her feel with your kisses, with your hands…

But, with the passage of time, that routine began to fade, to become a silent and wet dance. The moans slowly mutated into whispers and discreet gasps, and the end of that sinful act didn't result in many more kisses, in praises, only in a chaste and quick kiss before falling into the arms of Morpheus.

It could simply be the fact of turning those encounters into a habit, into a task to end the day and not as an act of love and passion.

Any rational thought, a logical explanation for that decline in the intensity with which the lady in black claimed you as hers, wasn’t present in your confused mind.

You had already experienced something similar. You had experienced that fading of passion, that passivity when it came to doing something so intimate. Experience told you that this wasn’t a good sign.

The deep breathing you felt on your neck warned you that Donna had already fallen asleep, that there was no danger in rambling about the causes of this different behavior.

One by one, you remembered the kisses, each of the decisions you made that night, each of the places your hands caressed. You didn't notice any change, you never wanted to change your functional way of making love, you never dared to change. So... that lack of enthusiasm on Donna's part... What was the reason?

Yes, the lady in black wasn't particularly communicative. Getting words out of her mouth was still complicated, but much more common than at the beginning. That special way of loving filled your heart, but maybe, just maybe, the way you thanked Donna for that affection, that opportunity, wasn't enough.

Routine always gave you a certain peace of mind. It was the sign that indicated that everything was going well, but you had been wondering for some time now if you were really right. Without wanting to, you remembered your ex. You remembered every insult, every protest…

“You're boring, (Y/N)… You're useless, (Y/N)… You're not funny, I don't like you anymore, I don't love you anymore… No one could love someone as boring as you…”

You had repeated those offensive phrases so many times that they slipped through your mind without difficulty, but doing the same damage to your heart. It took you too long to forget that stupid village girl, but you never really succeeded.

Your heart belonged to Donna, only Donna, it always would, always. You certainly didn't miss that stupid girl, but her passage through your life not only left disappointment and love, but also new worries.

Life with Donna was very calm. It was based on the small things: romantic dinners, walks in the woods, hours and hours of quiet reading on her lap… Everything was perfect for you, everything, but… Was it for her too?

You couldn't help it, for a long time now, every night you fell asleep thinking about the same thing, that apparent lack of interest on the part of the brunette, asking yourself over and over again: Will Donna always love me?

The nights had become a hell of worries and doubts but, luckily, every morning they disappeared with the brunette's lips waking you up in a loving way.

Cuddles in bed, a childish and fun laze, a hot shower next to her... No, nothing had changed between you and Donna.

“You look beautiful this morning, (Y/N),” the lady whispered, lovingly drinking her coffee, looking at you over her cup, masterfully getting a blush on your cheeks.

“Donna...” you said laughing amused, making a gesture with your hand to reassure yourself. “You know I'm very sensitive.”

“Mm, that's why I like you,” she said, winking at you and sighing deeply, without losing that beautiful smile, the one you fell in love with the day she lost her black veil.

“What do you want to do today? We could go for a walk and…” you proposed in a passive way, waiting to know what would be the perfect plan to spend another day with your beloved.

“Good idea, (Y/N), but you'll have to wait for me to come back from the meeting,” Donna commented, lowering her gaze.

“Oh, do you have a meeting? I didn't know,” you said with a disappointed tone, finishing your coffee with an elegant gesture.

“Didn't I tell you?” she asked, frowning and wiping with a napkin.

“Um, no,” you said with a dry voice.

Normally, she had nothing to hide from you. No matter how irrational her thoughts, her worries were, she always talked to you, she told you everything that happened in her life and, of course, she would tell you anything that would break your pleasant routine.

 “Sorry, (Y/N), I must have forgotten,” she said, apologizing for something she somehow knew you didn't like.

“Oh, it's okay, I guess walking in the sunset is romantic too,” you said with a fake smile as you saw the tension build up in the lady's body, the strength with which she held the spoon.

“Hey! Why don't you come with us?” Angie asked, appearing by surprise, as always, to scare you.

“Angie…” Donna hissed, annoyed by her doll's insistence on making your stay in the mansion a bit more uncomfortable. “Leave her alone.”

“Shut up, silly Donna!” the puppet protested, causing both of you to shake your heads, laughing amusedly. “I'm talking to her.”

“Mm,” the lady murmured, lowering her gaze, elegantly moving away from the conversation.

“What do you say, silly, silly? Are you coming with us?” the doll asked, comically tugging at your dress. “It will be funny.”

“Oh, no… I’ll stay here,” you said, rejecting Angie’s proposal to accompany them to the meeting, one that wasn’t the first time she made you. “I don’t want to bother.”

“You never bother, tesoro,” Donna said, tilting her head romantically. “Maybe it’s not such a bad idea. I’d like my siblings to see how lucky I’ve been with you.”

“No, no, I…” you said, shaking your head again, looking for a place to hide from that proposal. “I’d rather stay.”

“I’d rather stay, blah, blah, blah…” Angie mocked, making unpleasant gestures that imitated you almost perfectly. “Come with us.”

“Angie, I said no,” you said in a harsher tone, thus revealing the fear you felt of the siblings of your beloved and Donna's adoptive mother, the priestess sent to the village by the Black Gods, Mother Miranda.

“Why not?” Donna asked, with an intriguing tone, with one eye shining with disappointment at your unchanging answer. “I want you to come with me.”

“I know, Donna but… I don't think I'm ready to meet… well, to meet them all. B-Besides, I have no business in a meeting.”

“You're my girlfriend,” she said, darkening her voice little by little, studying each of your cowardly gestures. “Come with us.”

“Donna, I…” you said sighing, looking for an excuse that wouldn't betray cowardice. “It's just that I… prefer to stay at home, reading.”

“Reading,” she repeated, crossing her arms abruptly, pressing her lips together to say with her look that you couldn't lie to her. “If you don't want to come, just say it.”

“That's what I'm trying to do,” you whispered unsurely, camouflaging the trembling of your legs.

Feeling despised, feeling that you were ashamed of her was one of the most dangerous things that could happen to Donna, one of the few things that still triggered terrible crises.

“You don't want to come? Well, okay, silly,” Angie said, breaking that tense moment between you two with her shrill voice. “Stay here with your stupid books, you're boring.”

“What? What did you say?” you asked, startled by that accusation.

Angie had called you many things: stupid,  cheesy, Donna-stealer, intruder… But she had never, never said that you were boring, she had never said that word that, just by hearing it, made you invoke all the ghosts of your past.

You didn't know perfectly well the relationship between Donna and her doll. You knew that in some way Angie was part of her, that they were part of the same conscience. If Angie said that you were boring… Donna thought that too, didn't she?

You would do anything so she wouldn't think that way, so that your relationship wouldn't start that sinister path, the one you already knew and that didn't have a happy ending.

“I said, silly, that you are boring,” the doll repeated, with her hands on her hips, enjoying that word that caused your abrupt reaction.

“No, I'm not,” you said, clenching your fists.

“Prove it, come with us to the meeting,” the puppet challenged you.

You, confused and hurt, looked at Donna, who kept her gaze fixed on you, with a serious expression, surely waiting for an answer, waiting for you to reconsider your decision.

“D-Donna, I…” you stammered, seeking help and understanding from your lover. Her face didn't change. “I…”

“It's okay, do whatever you want,” said the lady, getting up from the chair and picking up the breakfast.

“W-Wait, don't be mad, Donna, please,” you said, grabbing her wrist tightly, keeping the upset and offended lady next to you a bit longer.

“I'm tired, (Y/N), tired of you refusing to meet my family,” the ventriloquist scolded you, breaking away from your grip with an unpleasant gesture.

“Are you… tired of me?” you asked with an evident tremor in your voice, bringing your traumas to light.

“No,” she said, with a cold voice, looking away, but trying to soften her nervous attitude. “I just don't understand why you don't want to…”

“O-Okay,” you said, before the pressure led to a pathetic cry. “Okay, Donna, if that's what you want, I'll go with you,” you said, closing your eyes, sacrificing your fears for a greater good, because Donna, as she hinted, won't get tired of you.

“Mm, I appreciate it, (Y/N)…” the lady sighed, regaining her smile and bending down to kiss you softly. “It's very important to me.”

“I know,” you said, relieved by her lips on yours, by the tender smile that replaced the darkness of her gaze.

Reluctant, accompanied by Donna's silence and Angie's mockery, you walked with her through the forest. The black veil indicated that this walk was not just that, it was a journey into the unknown, a horrible, sinister journey for you.

You never wanted to know more about Miranda than you already did. The Lords made the village tremble. They caused nightmares in each of their followers. Yes, you fell in love with one of them, but that didn't mean you wanted to be part of that... strange family.

“Come, sit here,” Donna whispered, bringing you closer to a chair she put next to hers while you avoided by all means meeting the eyes that looked at you with curiosity.

“O-Okay,” you murmured unsure, looking away from the deformed monster of the swamp and the strange and dangerous man who guarded the old factory.

“It's about time, Donna,” that man, Karl Heisenberg said with a sly smile, not wanting to take his gaze away from yours. “I thought you lied about your girlfriend...”

“Shut up, you fool!” Angie shrieked, walking mockingly towards the Lord.

Donna, even more reluctant to speak, defend herself, or make the slightest gesture of communication, stood her ground, bringing her hand closer to yours.

“What a cutie!” Karl squealed, drawing your attention again. “What's your name, cutie?”

“Um, I… M-my name is…” you stammered, noticing the hand of the lady in black in yours.

“Don't answer him, dear. A lady should not communicate with vermin,” a seductive voice interrupted that awkward moment.

Luckily, not all the Lords were so fearsome or distant. You knew that voice, Alcina Dimitrescu.

The lady of the castle seemed to despise the rest of her siblings, but with Donna… with her it was different. Pity or female complicity, you didn't know exactly why, but it wasn't the first time you were dragged to the old castle to spend the afternoon with the tall lady and her… daughters.

“Hey, fat ass! I'm not talking to you!” Heisenberg protested while you took advantage of that defense to get a little closer to Donna, to feel protected by her side.

“Don't pay attention to them, tesoro,” Donna whispered, running her hand over your face, showing her siblings the conquest she had made in your heart, saying with those vague gestures that you were hers. “You are with me.”

“I know, thank you, Donna,” you said with a grateful smile while the discussion between the two siblings became much louder.

Luckily, Mother Miranda wasn’t long in appearing, eclipsing the yelling completely, creating in that sinister place an atmosphere of obedience, of blind faith.

The priestess barely noticed you, wielding a sinister smile when her eyes met yours, but nothing else, nothing that made you think that it had been a bad idea to accompany your lover to those tedious meetings with her family.

“Well, I hope to see you next week, dears,” Alcina said, getting up like the rest of the Lords, talking to the silent Donna, who refused, the whole time, to let your hand go. “You needed wine, didn’t you?”

“Yes, yes,” Angie said, speaking for her owner as usual, making a seductive smile form on the tall woman’s face.

“Mm, great, oh, and bring that pretty girl, my daughters always ask me about her,” Alcina commented before turning around and disappearing, winking at you awkwardly.

The old cathedral fell silent. Donna didn’t move from her seat and you, at last, could breathe easier.

“How are you, darling? Did you have a bad time?” she asked behind her black veil, gently drawing you towards her and sitting you on her lap. “You seemed very nervous.”

“I was very nervous,” you said amused, looking with your eyes for some trace of terror among those walls. “But it didn’t go as bad as I thought. They barely noticed my presence.”

“Mm, do you think so?” the lady in black asked, placing you in a more comfortable position. “I think they did, (Y/N)… I'm sure they're jealous.”

“Jealous? Come on,” you said amused, feeling Donna's veiled lips on your neck, quick and playful kisses.

“Yes, jealous…” the woman confirmed, following her trail of kisses to your lips. “You're so beautiful…”

“You're just being accommodating because I've accompanied you,” you joked, giving her a soft punch on the shoulder, which she countered with a movement of her hand, moving the black fabric away from her face and kissing you wetly on the lips, barely letting you breathe.

“Maybe. But I was taught to be grateful,” she whispered in your ear, bringing her hand to your leg, lightly digging her nails into your skin. “Come here, tesoro…”

“W-Wait, wait,” you said among amused laughs as little by little, the brunette's kisses seemed to deepen more and more. “Donna.”

“Mm? What's wrong?” she asked, with a slurred, marked tone, one that revealed intentions that you wouldn't imagine in normal circumstances.

The kisses had lasted too long and the possessiveness that Donna always showed when the light was dimmer was quite evident in that seemingly wild, out of place attitude.

“Donna, what are you doing?” you asked when the tickling of her hand on your leg slowly moved up your dress.

Uncomfortable, nervous and amused, you moved on her lap, struggling to escape from that sudden passionate attack. You didn't really know what the reason was, but you didn't give it too much importance either, at least until your annoying brain remembered where you were.

“Shh, don't say anything,” she whispered in your ear, sailing relentlessly towards your underwear. “It will only be a moment.”

“A moment… but… but…” you protested, moving more obviously, avoiding the contact of her fingers from touching your skin and ignoring your clothes. “Here?”

“What's the problem? I want to make love to you…” the lady sighed, not struggling with you, but holding you tighter. “You're so good…”

“Yes, but, but, here…” you stammered unable to resist that outburst so uncharacteristic of her.

 Surely that possessive and wet attitude had some explanation that had to do with jealousy, but that wasn't what prevented you from continuing. “Here…”

“There's no one, we're alone,” she said impatient, also playing with her dress, elegantly and discreetly leading your hand under it. “Don't worry about Angie. She's not going to bother us.”

“Angie is not the problem, Donna,” you said, finally getting off her lap, avoiding another of her intense kisses. “It's just that... hey, what's wrong with you? What's this about?”

“I have a wonderful girlfriend who hasn't been influenced by my siblings. She's been good, quiet, obedient... you know that seeing you like this...  It turns me on...” she said, scared by your reaction, with her brow furrowed by your imminent rejection.

“Oh, well, I've already told you a thousand times that I love you, only you and...” you stammered, scratching the back of your neck, avoiding the brunette's attempts to return you to her lap.

“Well, come here, let me show you how grateful I am to the Gods for the opportunity to meet you, come on,” Donna said with a dangerous smile, making a sensual gesture with her finger, one that made you move away, shaking your head.

“No, I can't, not here,” you said with a timid voice, having made the decision long before verbalizing it. “Why don't we go home? We'll do whatever you want there.”

“Mm, home,” she said, leaning back in the chair and crossing her legs. “As always.”

“Yes, well, I'll be more comfortable there,” you explained with a tender, sweet voice, which countered the disgust on the doll maker's face, one she couldn't hide.

“You're so boring, tesoro,” she murmured, slowly getting up and adjusting her veil.

Those words pierced your chest, leaving you frozen as the lady passed by you with an air of arrogance, picking up the inert doll on the floor.

“I'm not boring!” you screamed irrationally, thus emitting a small cry for help, a pressure that you had been feeling for some time and that you couldn't avoid. “I-I'm not…”

The lady in black turned around, probably surprised by your outburst.

“Qual è il tuo problema?” she asked in a dark, but soft, calm voice. “Why are you yelling at me?”

“I'm… sorry,” you said, head down, running to be at her level. “It's just that I've gotten really nervous.”

“Mm, you've been really irascible lately, really, how do you say? Nervous,” she said, walking out of the cathedral next to you, next to your sad and embarrassed body. “If something happens to you, you have to tell me.”

“It's nothing, just, just my stuff,” you said, getting a little closer to the lady as you walked, trying to make the grip on her arm mutate as always into an interlacing of hands, something that didn't happen.

“There are no your stuff, (Y/N), you are mine, I am yours, your problems are mine, do you understand?” the lady in black commented in a calmer tone, after a few minutes of walking in silence.

“It's not a problem, it's just that…” you said, finally getting your fingers to join together and Donna's steps to slow down so she could hear you better. “I'm sorry about rejecting you.”

“I'm not mad because you didn't want to make love,” she said, looking away, but keeping her hand in yours.

“It's just that I don't want you to think that… that I'm boring,” you said murmuring, not wanting to say those hurtful words. “It's just that I felt uncomfortable in that place, you know, I prefer something more romantic.”

“Mm, I'm listening, what do you propose?” Donna said, apparently free of any resentment, a shame that your paranoia prevented you from noticing something like that.

“We could have a dinner like the ones before, you know, a romantic dinner with candles, some wine…” you said, leaning on her shoulder, taking refuge from the cold in her arms. “It's been a long time since we've done something like this.”

“I thought you weren't interested anymore,” she commented, making you frown. “But I'm afraid there's a problem.”

“What problem?” you asked curiously.

“We don't have any wine, (Y/N), I told Alcina I'd go to the castle in a couple of days,” Donna explained, stopping walking and turning to face you, stealing a kiss from you. “What an obstacle, isn't it?”

“You're right, without wine there's no romantic dinner,” you said amused, grabbing her waist. “We could go to the castle now for it, what do you think?”

“And when do I work on my dolls?” she asked, separating elegantly, placing her veil and shaking her head. “I can't.”

“Oh, okay, but... W-Well, I could go to the castle for it, so you could work on your dolls in peace, what do you think?” you proposed, seeing in that next romantic dinner the opportunity you longed for to rekindle the flame of what you believed was an extinct passion.

“Mm, do you want to go to the castle, by yourself?” she repeated, with a distrustful sigh. “No.”

“I'll be fine, I promise, besides, I already know Alcina and the girls,” you said with an enthusiastic smile, wanting to take those steps, to be the one to improvise, a role you always refused to have.

“That's what worries me,” she said, coming closer again.

“But Donna, it's our romantic dinner…” you said, clasping your hands, with eyes shining like a helpless puppy. “I want that dinner…”

The lady seemed to hesitate but, after a last kiss, she nodded, walking away from you.

“I'll give you an hour. If you take longer, I'll come find you and you don't want that,” she murmured, moving away from you amid impertinent questions from the doll.

“You're the best,” you said, jumping on the ground and hugging the brunette from behind. She growled in annoyance, but couldn't hide an amused laugh. “Ti amo, Donna.”

“Go,” she said, turning around, making the sparkle in her eye peek through the black fabric of her veil.

The smile at your victory disappeared as you walked. The cause of that improvised plan was a problem you could no longer ignore. Boring, dull, lacking passion... Those adjectives haunted you like the sounds of footsteps in the snow.

Your previous girlfriend was crazy. She always wanted to be with you everywhere, enjoy you and your body anywhere, anytime. You kept up that frenetic pace for a while, but the pranks and love affairs took away part of your health.

You weren't like her. Your modesty, shame and shyness contrasted with that unbridled, lack of coherence attitude. Maybe if you had thought that way you wouldn't have taken that breakup as something deeply personal, as something that you were guilty of.

Donna was calm. She liked to be at home, not to go too far from the normal, from the… boring life. That life had its ups and downs, and had its moments to be wild and to be romantic.

The lack of spark, of that passion at the beginning reminded you dangerously of your previous relationship. The refusal to give yourself to her in such a sacred place, the rejection, her reaction, made you live one of the many situations with that stupid village girl.

Lack of enthusiasm, lack of moans, of words of love… They were subtle signs that something was very wrong.

Maybe with that dinner, with a night of real passion you could get rid of your demons forever, although, to be honest, you didn't think so. Donna was everything to you, you couldn't lose her. You couldn't be the one to blame for the lady in black abandoning you.

Without knowing exactly how, turning over all those thoughts, you arrived at the castle.

“My dear, I wasn't expecting you so soon,” Alcina said as she welcomed you into the castle, passing an uncomfortable hand over your shoulders. “Without Donna...”

“Donna is busy,” you said, clearing your throat to try to dispel the little tension that always appeared when the lady of the castle was nearby. “I've come for the wine.”

“Well, what a disappointment, I thought you were coming to see me,” said the lady in white, feigning something like a sad sigh, but without removing that sinister and homogeneous smile from her face.

“I'm sorry, my lady,” you said, looking away from those bright eyes.

“Mm, Donna is very lucky,” she commented, sighing again and pointing with her head to a small room. “Wait for me there while I go get the wine. The castle is cold…”

“Well, thank you, my lady,” you said, nodding and sitting down in one of the armchairs, with a somewhat nervous gesture.

“You’re welcome, dear…”

Loneliness brought back your paranoid thoughts, although, luckily or unfortunately, you soon realized that you weren’t alone in that warm room. An annoying buzz reached your ears, followed by many more, from a black cloud that formed in front of you.

“Hello, hello, hello…” Daniela Dimitrescu's mocking voice alerted you before she had fully obtained her form and her sinister and bloody smile. “It's (Y/N), Donna's girlfriend.”

“H-Hello,” you said, nervous.

You knew the Dimitrescu sisters perfectly, but whenever you had been with them, Donna was nearby, as was their mother. Being alone with one of them was a bit… disturbing.

“Where's Aunt Donna? Didn't she come with you?” the young vampire asked, looking around you exaggeratedly.

You timidly shook your head.

“N-No, Donna's at home with her dolls, I came alone,” you said in a small voice.

“Ohh, so you've come to see me, right?” she asked mockingly, in a funny way, sitting on the arm of that chair, taking advantage of the absence of the lady in black to get a little closer to you.

“I'm afraid I haven’t,” you said, laughing softly at the audacity of the family. Mother and daughters, they were all the same. “I've come for wine.”

“Wine, oh, of course, yes…” she murmured, looking at her nails. “What for?”

“Well… to drink,” you said in a whisper.

“That's what everyone says,” she snapped at you, putting a thin finger on the tip of your nose. “You're hiding something.”

“Me?” you asked, pointing at yourself, blinking in confusion. “I'm not hiding anything.”

“Save your lies, I can smell it…” the young Dimitrescu hissed, making an unpleasant gesture towards you. “Your thoughts are so loud that my head hurts.”

“Oh, it's nothing,” you said, demonstrating your lack of ability to lie, much more diminished thanks to Daniela's imposing presence. “T-The wine is for a romantic dinner.”

“That's much better, it's not right to lie to your family,” she said, amused, patting your back, perhaps too hard.

“Yes…” you sighed, putting on a face that the vampire found somewhat strange, as she approached you, observing you so intensely that you had to step back a little. “Um, um…”

“A romantic dinner… I envy you so much, (Y/N)…” she finally sighed, leaving your personal space alone.

“Yes, well, it's not that big of a deal, or well it is, or not, I don't know,” you stammered, revealing your nervous attitude, something that made Daniela laugh in a disturbing way.

“What do you mean? Hey, Donna's girlfriend, you're really weird,” she accused you again, with a more formal, serious tone. “Do you and Donna have problems?”

“What?” you asked, startling . “No, no, not at all… I don't think so…”

“You don't think so? Hey, Donna's girlfriend… if you have any problems with my aunt, get ready to have them with me,” she said threateningly.

“I don't have any problem with Donna,” you said, trying to reassure yourself of the truth of your words. “I-It's me.”

“You? What's wrong with you?” Daniela asked curiously, sitting back down on the arm of the chair. “You can tell me, we're friends, right?”

“Oh, are we?” you asked amused, arching your eyebrows.

“Sure,” the vampire said, in a serious, confident way. “What's wrong?”

“Oh, no, I don't know if I could talk about this... with you... don't be offended,” you said, making nervous gestures with your hands.

“Would you rather talk about it with my mother?” she asked in an ironic tone, crossing her arms just as you suspected, offended.

“No, no, no, no,” you said quickly. “Don't say anything to your mother, please.”

“Then spit it out, what's wrong?” she insisted.

It’s not like you had any other choice, besides, what could you lose by asking for some advice from… your friend?

“It’s okay,” you said, speaking quieter, causing Daniela to move uncomfortably closer again. “I’m scared, I think, I think Donna doesn’t… she doesn’t love me anymore.”

“What nonsense, Aunt Donna is crazy about you,” she said, laughing as if you had said something absurd.

“It’s just that I… we don’t… oh, forget it,” you said, regretting telling Dimitrescu your personal problems.

“Now you'll have to tell me... if you don't want me to tell Aunt Donna,” Daniela sang, threateningly. “Spit it out, problems in bed?”

“No,” you said quickly, maybe too quickly. “It's not exactly that.”

“So, I got it right,” she said, satisfied. “I'm the best.”

“Yes, yes... it's just that... it's just that Donna isn't... well, what she used to be. It seems that she doesn't like the way I love her anymore, you know what I mean. It's like she thinks that I... that I'm boring,” you murmured confidentially.

“Boring? You? You've managed to win Aunt Donna's cold heart, I don't think you're boring at all,” Donna said, dismissing it with a gesture of her hand.

Well, you didn't expect Dimitrescu to know your past either.

“But what if she thinks so? I don't want to lose her, Daniela,” you said in a whisper, looking away to hide your anguish. “I need to do something... I don't know, something that gets her attention, that shows that I'm not... boring.”

“Oh, I see,” she said, patting your back hard again. “You want to rekindle the passion, huh?”

“It's not exactly that, but maybe it'll help,” you said, looking at the door impatiently.

 You wanted that wine and to get out of there as soon as possible.

“Well... I'm not an expert in long-term relationships, but if you want some advice, I know something that Donna likes, a lot,” she said, feigning confidentiality.

“Do you know something that Donna likes? What are you talking about?” you asked curiously, extremely curious.

Daniela laughed, shaking her head and rolling her eyes.

“Okay, I may not know that Donna likes it, but... it's something that drives men crazy, and women too, I assure you. It never fails,” the young woman acknowledged, awakening your interest.

“Oh,” you gasped, looking away from the door and looking into those bright eyes, which seemed to enjoy the conversation. “What is it?”

Daniela Dimitrescu's advice was something absurd, something you had never considered and that you found terribly embarrassing.

You knew that Donna was a strange woman, with strange tastes. You weren’t completely convinced that this strategy would attract the attention of the lady in black, but your fears were beginning to make you desperate, seeing that option as the only one that could save your relationship.

The day passed slowly, in the middle of clumsy rehearsals for your plan, rehearsals that only managed to make you blush.

Was this really a good idea? Would Donna stop thinking you were boring after that?

You couldn't wait and at the same time you wished that moment wouldn't come.

Dinner passed in silence, a romantic silence in the warm candlelight. The wine made you gain courage, and Donna's gaze slowly dispelled your fears. She deserved it, she deserved your attention, she deserved the funny and sexy (Y/N), not the boring loser you thought you were.

“It was delicious, my love,” you said in a tender voice, distorted by the wine, but firm and sure, grabbing her warm hand with yours, holding the penetrating gaze of her bright eye, of that silent lady you were terribly in love with.

“Mm, grazie, tesoro,” Donna said in a soft voice, not wanting to disturb the comfortable silence that was around you. “But maybe… well, maybe you’d like to thank me properly… under the sheets.”

Her words were sensual, eager due to the especially erotic atmosphere you had created with your choice of dress, with your somewhat exaggerated makeup and the exposure of your slightly shameless curves.

“Oh, yes, but, but first…” you interrupted, with a completely different tone of voice, hitting the table awkwardly as you stood up. “I have something to give you.”

“Do you have a gift for me? You’re so sweet, (Y/N),” Donna said while you were guiding her hand away from the table to the small corner where you used to read. “What is it?”

“Um, wait a minute,” you said with a fake smile, finishing the glass of wine you brought with you in one gulp and turning on a lamp that was behind you, creating a perfectly rehearsed effect.

“I'm intrigued,” the lady in black commented, leaning back on the couch with an impatient gaze, running over your trembling curves.

“Can you...? Can you deactivate Angie?” you asked with a broken voice.

Donna looked at the doll and then frowned at you. Your gaze must have been an open book because, moments later, she guided her hand towards the protesting doll, which begged for mercy.

“No, Donna, Don’t...!” the doll's cries disappeared when it fell limp on the floor.

“What are you up to?” the lady asked amused, leaning forward.

The moment had arrived and, somehow, the confidence you had in yourself rose to its highest levels, placing a hand on the brunette's chest, pushing her back.

“Just watch, darling...” you whispered in her ear, pulling away from her kisses seductively, looking at her intensely before beginning your display.

Little by little, your hips began to sway supported by your hands. Your whole body began to dance to invisible music, making slow and sensual movements, playing with your tight dress, with the parts that the clothes allowed you to show.

“(Y/N)…” the brunette sighed, unable to look away from the leg you were caressing, slowly making the fabric disappear, resting your heel on her knee, letting her see a bit of your exaggerated intentions. “Mamma mia, (Y/N), you're not wearing…”

“Shh, silence, my love, you can't talk, just look,” you said with a hoarse voice, getting a little closer, just enough to make it impossible for her to devour you, pushing her back against the sofa again. “Not even touch me.”

“You're cruel,” she whispered, melting with your hypnotic movements, with your sly smile as you turned around and almost dropped on her lap, almost.

With grace, with a skill impossible for you, you rose before you made contact with her, patting her impatient hands, which tried to grab your curves.

“Silenzio, Donna,” you ordered again, resting your hands on either side of her hips, moving yours and bringing your cleavage closer to her reach.

The sound of the fabric being torn by her nails was the sign that this was working, that an lap dance for Donna was all you needed to prove your worth, to show that you weren’t a boring. It wasn’t a bad advice, after all.

Your hands ran over your skin, framing your figure the way hers would if you let yourself be invaded by her touch. You knew it, she knew it, she couldn’t resist the temptation to look at your tight, covered breasts, to watch the indecent path of your hands.

The lady in black, open-mouthed, followed the movement of your fingers, the swaying of your hips, your teasing approaches, the desire you were provoking with your movements, clumsy in your opinion, but extremely sexy for Donna.

Imagining Donna devouring you, running her lips over the skin your fingers grazed was like fuel for your actions, making you moan discreetly, the same way you did when her lips, when her tongue was on your skin.

The zipper of the dress fell under your hands, briefly leaning on her lap, lifting you up to let the fabric of your dress fall in front of her. As if hypnotized, uncomfortable, Donna followed the path of your dress to the floor, slowly raising her gaze, swallowing to assimilate the lack of your underwear.

“Look at you... I'm sure you're dying to take me,” you purred in her ear, running a mischievous hand over her legs, grabbing her thigh, squeezing her skin.

Poor Beneviento could only nod.

“That’s it? Are you that easy?” you joked, moving closer to her lips, brushing them without actually kissing them. “Mm, Donna…”

“I-I don't know what's wrong with you but... Gods, (Y/N)...” the lady moaned when she felt the cold that your hand left on her leg.

You stopped for a moment, feeling the cold, a confusion. Donna was definitely enjoying this new facet but... Would you be pretending to be someone you're not all your life?

The doubts came at the worst moment, when you also succumbed to temptation and kissed her lips, letting yourself fall into her lap. You tried to separate yourself from your doubts with the warmth of her kisses, but you were unsuccessful. Your body caught your attention trembling and her firm hand on your thigh loosened, pushing you away, looking at you with a strange expression.

“(Y/N), you're shaking,” Donna whispered, looking at you with concern. “Amore mio, what's wrong?”

“Nothing, darling, everything is fine... shall we continue?” you said with a sad smile, with an insistence to kiss her that, once again, revealed the poor ability you had for lying.

“No, I can't, tesoro,” she said, picking you up in her arms to sit you next to her, covering you with a blanket. “I see you're uncomfortable.”

“No, I really don't…” you said hastily but thanking her for covering your body.

“What you were doing to me… it's, it's incredible, (Y/N), I, I was really enyoing it but…” the lady commented, lifting your chin while you struggled to keep your dignity intact.

“But? Did I do it wrong?” you asked scared, seeing how her drooling expression changed to concern.

“No, but, I know you didn't want to do it,” she said, caressing your cheek. “I know you, (Y/N), you're not like that.”

“What am I like? Huh? A boring girl who can't be sexy for you? Is that what I am? Tell me, Donna!” you said, taking out your frustration, yelling at poor Donna again, senselessly, for no reason.

“What are you talking about? Boring? I-I don’t understand you,” she said, frowning again, annoyed by your attitude. “You yelled at me again.”

“Yes, I yell because I’m fed up, Donna…” you said in a calmer tone, clenching your fists tightly. “If you want to leave me, just say so.”

“Leave you? Have you gone crazy?” she asked, in a disrespectful, abrupt tone. “Why would you say something like that?”

“Because maybe… I’m not what you’re looking for,” you whispered, letting a tear stain your cheek. “I’ve seen this before, Donna, I saw it with my ex. It didn’t matter how much I smiled, or pretended everything was okay. It wasn’t, nothing was okay.”

“Your ex? What does that stronza have to do with this?” she asked again, grabbing your shoulders so you would look at her face.

“Everything, Donna,” you said firmly, holding her gaze as best you could. “She, she said that I… that I was boring, that's why she left me. I can't stop thinking about the things I did wrong for her to say something like that to me but… I-I guess she was right.”

“No,” Donna said, blinking nervously, holding back her jealousy.

“Yes, I…” you interrupted. “She always wanted to, well, make love anywhere at any time. She pressured me to steal from the craftsmen and to commit mischief that I wasn't ready for. When I agreed, it was all praise, but when I failed… she abandoned me, telling me that I was boring and that I had nothing worthwhile.”

“She was stupid.”

“Maybe, but I see that our relationship is going down the same path. I see that you don't make love to me like before, that I'm not able to please you as you deserve... that I don't give you the life you want, that I bore you.”

“Stop talking nonsense. You don't bore me, you never would,” she said, kicking the coffee table, holding back her rage. “Do you think I want a mean person next to me, a sexual addict? No, (Y/N). I love you because you're calm, good, because life goes by slowly with you, letting me enjoy every moment... I don't think you're boring, for me you're not.”

“Donna,” you sighed, looking into her sincere eye, at the hand that ran over your face, warming it. “Do you really love me... just the way I am?”

“More than my life, tesoro,” she said, grabbing your hands, kissing you tenderly. “I promise I'll tell you every day, every minute. I love you, amore mio…”

“Wow, that's… reassuring,” you said laughing, relieved, feeling the weight of your previous relationship disappear from your shoulders. “I've been stupid…”

“No, don't say that,” Donna said, laughing on your lips, shaking her head as she pulled you closer to her. “By the way, was that why that dance? I have to admit that I liked it, you know?”

“Really? W-Well, at least Dani's advice was of some use,” you said amused, hugging the brunette for a short time, as she abruptly let you go, looking at you with a frown.

“Dani? Daniela Dimitrescu?” she asked hastily, with her eye wide open.

“Um, yes, I…”

“Have you asked Daniela Dimitrescu for advice?! Did she teach you this?” she asked, pointing at you with contempt.

“No, of course not, she just gave me the idea and…” you said, covering yourself better with the blanket. “Donna, where are you going?” you asked, reaching out your hand towards the lady, who was hastily moving away from you.

“I have to make a threat. Stay there, I'm dying to know the end of that dance…”

[aestheticaltcow]

Family Ties

I love that the fandom sees Carmy as a girl dad who practices gentle parenting. Gentle parenting is a great parenting style, don't get me wrong. Personally, I can see him butting heads with his teenage daughter like he wants her to express herself- but he also knows that teenage boys are weird and would want to protect her at all costs. This was just a thought I had a couple of days ago, and once I started, I couldn't stop. More Dad!Carmy content to come...

A/N: I didn't realize until I copy pasted this from my Google Drive. This was 6 freakin pages. I like longer fics, I'm sorry.

The Bear Masterlist

Carmy was furious. It took a lot of effort for him to ‘gentle parent’ with you when the kids, Grace and Oliver, were little. Now that both kids are in high school, he wishes he had been harder on them. You reassure him that the two of you have great kids, both work hard in school, participate in extracurricular activities, and aren’t afraid to talk to them about anything - he insisted he should have been harder on them, especially when he gets calls from the school about Oliver getting suspended… again. 

Oliver was 15, and Carmy was convinced he was Mikey's reincarnation. Like you had, he did well in school, but he was Mikey in every other aspect of life. He just needed to get his head out of his ass before out-of-school suspension became stints in jail. 

As Carmy walked down the hall to the principal’s office, he saw Oliver sitting on a bench talking to Grace- Grace, his little girl, granted she wasn’t as little anymore. She’s 17 and looked exactly like you when you were her age- except she had gotten his eyes. “Oliver.” Carmy barked, getting his attention. 

Grace looked at her brother nervously. Carmy wasn’t the kind of Dad to ‘approve’ of her clothing, but he’d fight her on it occasionally, especially regarding crop tops and dresses. It came from a place of caring and not wanting his little girl to get hurt, but Carmy could take it too far.

 Carmy noticed Grace turning the opposite way to get away from the Berzatto boys,

“Grace? Shouldn’t you be in class or somethin’?” Carmy questioned; she stopped in her tracks, knowing Carmy wasn’t in the best mood. She turned around and hoped he was too mad, Oliver, to notice the cropped corset she’d worn to school that day. It’s not like she’d worn it to get a guy to notice her; she’d just liked the contrast of its light green color with her baggy jeans, and she was supposed to match outfits with the rest of the dance team that day so he couldn’t be mad at it- especially since he’d encouraged her to join the dance team freshman year. “Someone texted me that Oli was out here- just wanted to make sure no one beat my baby brother’s ass.” she laughed. Carmy shot her his classic ‘I’m your father, I know when you’re lying look’ but shook his head; he was not ready to deal with that. “Put on a sweater.” Grace nodded at Carmy’s casual dislike of her top, “Yes, sir.”

Initially, Carmy was going to let it slide. He knew Grace was 17, she was going to college next year, and he wouldn’t be able to encourage her to make the right decision anymore, but while she was under his roof, she’d live by his rules. You laughed when he brought it up to you that night in bed. “Carmy, she’s a good kid. Gracie has good grades. She has good friends. She works; if she wants to wear a crop top, she can wear a crop top.” Carmy sighed. He saw the point you’d been trying to make with that explanation but wasn’t happy.

Grace hoped Carmy wouldn’t bring up her wardrobe, but unfortunately, she was wrong. Carmy had hired an older brother of one of Grace’s friends at The Bear- that’s how he’d found out about Grace’s non-family Instagram account. She hadn’t posted anything too scandalous; there were some pictures from parties where she was holding a red Solo cup, a few from a dance competition after-party where she’d been wearing something Carmy wouldn’t have allowed her to leave the house in, and of course the soft launch of her relationship. He was seething; you hadn’t known about the account either- you’d heard Grace talk to her cousins about a boy she liked, but the drinking and parties also surprised you. 

“Carmy, you neeeeed to be careful with how you speak to Grace about this,” you emphasized through the phone. Of course, this would come up when you were out of town. “Baby, I’ll handle it.” “Carmen Anthony Berzatto. Do not, I repeat, do not shame our daughter. You can tell her you’re unhappy-” “I’ll handle it.” he hung up, and you knew you’d be walking into a shit storm when you returned home.

“Fuck off, Dad!” Grace screamed as she slammed her bedroom door. To say Carmy mishandled the situation would be an understatement; he stood outside Grace’s door, immediately regretting what he’d said about Grace. He questioned her character; he knew she was a good kid; he wanted to knock on her door and apologize, but Grace didn’t want to hear it.

Oliver sat in his bedroom and heard Carmy and Grace yell at each other throughout the weekend. He laughed when he realized Carmy double-downed on what he’d initially said about Grace ‘not being that kind of girl.’ and how people would ‘never take her seriously’ when he dropped the word ‘whore’ he knew there would be hell when you came home. The front door slammed, and he heard Carmy yell ‘fuck’ and slam a door. He looked out his bedroom window to see Grace running up the street. Oliver sighed and fished his phone out of his pocket; “Oli fuck off.” Grace huffed before immediately hanging up on him. He rolled his eyes and dialed your number. “Hi baby, everything okay?” “Nope.”

The house was antagonistic. Carmy was pissed at himself, you and Grace were also pissed at him, and Oliver managed to sink into the background. The family dinners you’d shared were typically full of conversation and life, but tonight was awkwardly silent. Oliver decided he’d take a crack at making it better, “Uncle Richie got to 100 Instagram followers. He’s pretty excited about it.” no one took the bait. He poked at the chicken on his plate, “Good dinner, am I right?” he grinned, looking around the table. Grace rolled her eyes and stood up from the table, “Grace?” you called after her. She ignored your question and went upstairs. “Well, I think it’s a good dinner- conversation wasn’t the best, but… we’ll get through it.” Oliver tried to lighten the tension in the room, but he inevitably failed, and Carmy told him to go to his room. Oliver obliged, taking his and Grace’s plates to the sink before shuffling upstairs. He walked past Grace’s room on the way. He paused and stood before the door; it was too quiet. He knocked softly before opening the door; she was gone.

“I just don’t know what to say to him. I’m pissed.” Grace vented as she lay beside Eva in the park by her apartment, “My dad was the same way, except he threw my clothes away. My mom ripped him a new one over it.” “Should I accept his apology and move out as soon as possible?” Eva shook her head and laughed at the suggestion. “Gracie, you know what you need to do.” Grace sighed, knowing her cousin was right. She sat up and pushed her hair back. “I’m gonna hide out at Danny’s house. Cover for me?” “Of course. Don’t get pregnant.” 

“Gracie girl? Can I come in, honey?” you asked outside her door, but there was no response. “Baby, please?” you asked again. “She’s not home,” Oliver said, walking past you to the bathroom. “What do you mean she’s not home?” he shrugged. “I guess she snuck out after dinner.”. You pinched the bridge of your nose in frustration before walking into your and Carmy’s bedroom, “You have to fix this, Carmen.” you scolded in your best mom voice he’d heard a thousand times, granted it was typically directed at one of the kids. “Baby, how can-” “Carmen. If you ever want to be inside me again, you’ll fix this.” Carmy leaned back against the headboard; he didn’t think something like this could be fixed. 

“Oh, hi, Grace.” Danny’s mom greeted her when she realized she was sitting on the couch with Danny. “Hi, Mrs. De Luca.” she smiled back, “How are you, sweetheart?” Grace shrugged at the question, “Been better.” “Oh, I’m sorry, Grace,” she frowned before turning her attention to her son “Danny. I need you to take Annie to school tomorrow morning, okay? I’m doin’ an overnight.” Danny nodded in acknowledgment. She smiled again and quickly ran out of the house, leaving Danny and Grace in the living room and Danny’s sister Annie upstairs, tucked into bed. 

“So. What’s goin on with you?” Danny finally asked. He wasn’t mad that she’d come over unannounced, but it was obvious that Grace had been crying. Grace shrugged at the question, “Guess I just wanted to see you.” Danny scoffed. “Grace. Com’ on. You only come over on weeknights when you’re upset.” “Do not.” Grace challenged, leaning into his side. “I will tickle it out of you, baby. You should just tell me what’s up.” he insisted, sitting up slightly. Grace groaned and sat up, bringing her knees to her chest. She told him that she and Carmy were fighting about her ‘secret online life that everyone can see’ and how ‘she’s not that kind of girl,’ so why was she pretending to be? She was hesitant to include the part where Carmy had called her a whore, but as she looked at Danny’s sympathetic face, she couldn’t hold back. “The house is awkward- Oli tried to make a joke out of it, but it was just so fuckin’ annoying. I’m just disappointed in myself… he’s never mad at me, Danny.” Danny nodded. “I get that. What me to beat him up for callin’ you a whore? You know I will.” Grace rolled her eyes. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

Carmy sat outside on the porch smoking when he saw headlights coming in his direction; it was almost 2 in the morning. He sighed and took a final puff before ashing his cigarette. He assumed it was Grace, and he was correct. He heard her say her goodbyes to whoever dropped her off and waited for her to come up the driveway. “Hi, Grace.” he greeted, his lips pulling into a tight line due to their growing awkwardness. “Dad,” she responded, crossing her arms over her stomach. “Where were you?” “With Eva.” Carmy nodded. “Can I talk to you?” Grace shrugged and moved closer to Carmy. “I want to apologize, Gracie. I shouldn’t have said that about you. You have a good head on those shoulders- but I don’t want you to get hurt. Girls who posted stuff like that online when I was 17… you know what happened. Rumors and shit- I just don’t want people doin' that to you.” he explained, scratching at the back of his neck. Grace nodded, taking in what he’d said. “I understand, but I’m not a little girl anymore, Dad. I can handle myself; if I can’t, Danny has my back.” Carmy nodded, “We good?” he asked, looking down at Grace. He smiled when he saw her pulling her sleeves over her hands like when she was a little girl and felt uneasy. “We’re good.” Grace agreed. Carmy brought her into a lazy hug and kissed the top of her head. “I love you, always.” Grace smiled and hugged Carmy back, “I love you too, Dad.”

As the two went inside, Carmy remembered something she’d said, “Who’s Danny?” Grace stopped and looked up at Carmy cautiously. “Uh… he’s my- my boyfriend…”

[southtopaz]

PSYCHO KILLER - SCREAM

Summary: in which Iris Morris has to navigate her personal relationships while surviving a psycho.

Warnings: Fem!reader, angst, mention of violence, swearing, mention of death, Tara Carpenter x Fem reader, multiple parts, slowburn

Word count: +3,5

A/n: this part will follow the events of Scream 6 but it will take place two years later from Scream 5. English is not my first language, so I apologize for any grammatical mistake.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14.

Iris sat in the stark, fluorescent-lit interrogation room, her fingers nervously fidgeting in her lap. She never imagined she would find herself in a police station, let alone facing such horrifying circumstances. The recent attempts on her life and her friends' had thrust her into a nightmare she couldn't have anticipated. Life had a way of surprising her in the most fucked up ways and now she would've to deal with it.

Beside her, Sam and Tara sat in tense silence, the gravity of the situation hanging heavily in the air.

In front of them on the cold, metal table lay a series of photographs depicting the gruesome aftermath of the recent crimes. Among the images were shots of Greg and Jason, their faces frozen in time, reminders of their horrible deaths. The sight was chilling, and Iris couldn't shake the feeling of dread that settled in her stomach.

"It would be nice if someone could explain why they think showing us pictures of dead people is a good idea," Iris muttered under her breath. Just then, she felt a sharp kick to her shin from the youngest Carpenter sister, a subtle but clear warning to keep her comments to herself.

The atmosphere in the room shifted slightly as the door creaked open, revealing Quinn's father, Wayne Bailey. He stepped inside, a brief smile flickering across his face as he took a seat opposite them. In his hands, he held a bag that unmistakably contained a Ghostface mask.

"This was found next to the body at the apartment crime scene," Wayne informed them in a calm, steady voice. He placed the evidence on the table, allowing the three of them to examine it closely. The item—a worn Ghostface mask—seemed to absorb the room's light, casting a shadow of unease over them. "DNA analysis indicates it belonged to someone named Richie Kirsch."

He glanced at each of them, searching for something in their faces. "Does that ring a bell?"

"Unfortunately," Iris replied, her voice tinged with dread as memories of past encounters flooded back.

"We're all familiar with him," Sam added quietly, her gaze fixed on the mask.

"But the one who attacked us had a different mask on," Tara interjected, her brow furrowing in thought. "It was kind of more beat up. Like it was older.".

Wayne's expression shifted as he furrowed his eyebrows in contemplation. "I gotta ask, do you have alibis for earlier tonight?"

"Iris and I were at a party with our friends," Tara answered, her voice more assertive now, eager to distance themselves from any suspicion.

"I was at my therapist's," Sam muttered, a hint of annoyance creeping into her tone. "I can give you his information. You can call to check if you want."

Wayne nodded in acknowledgement as Sam continued talking.

"And then I met Tara at that party, where I tased someone," Sam said, glancing at the police officer. "Unrelated," she added with a roll of her eyes.

Wayne turned his attention to Iris, his eyes narrowing as he noticed her busted lip. "What happened to you?" he asked, gesturing towards her injury.

"I might have punched someone," Iris admitted, her tone surprisingly casual. She caught Wayne's surprised expression and quickly added, "Completely unrelated too."

Wayne blinked at her, a flicker of skepticism crossing his face. "A lot of unrelated things happened tonight," he observed, his tone probing.

"I know, crazy right?".

Wayne didn't respond directly to Iris. Instead, he pulled out his phone and began scrolling through videos, his expression shifting to one of focus. "Was this before or after this happened?" he asked, turning the screen toward them.

The video played, revealing the moment where a woman dumped her soda over Sam's clothes, followed by the sound of both Iris and Sam shouting in indignation.

"Before," Sam confirmed, her voice steady as she watched the footage.

"The point is, we were with people all night," Tara interjected firmly, her tone leaving no room for doubt. She leaned forward, intent on conveying their innocence.

"So, our roommate's dad just happened to pull your case?" Sam inquired, her voice tinged with suspicion.

"That'd be a crazy coincidence, right?" Bailey replied sarcastically, a wry smile playing on his lips.

"Completely unrelated, isn't it?" Iris added, furrowing her eyebrows in an attempt to mask her unease.

"Yeah," Sam echoed, her voice steady but with an undercurrent of tension.

Wayne leaned back slightly, crossing his arms as he continued. "The detective who had the case offered it to me because it involves Quinn. But I can totally give it back if you're uncomfortable. It's up to you."

"It's fine," Sam said, rolling her eyes after exchanging a quick, silent look with Tara and Iris.

Wayne shifted his focus back to the case. "So, if the man who attacked you did steal your license and planted them next to the body," he stated matter-of-factly, "it's probably someone close to you. How long have you known your friends?"

"We moved here about two years ago with Mindy and Chad," Tara explained, her voice steady. "That's when we first met Quinn, Ethan, and Anika."

"I think I can vouch for Quinn," Wayne said, offering a small, reassuring smile, trying to bring comfort to the girls. "So that's one less person we have to worry about."

Iris felt a flicker of doubt at his words. Just because Quinn was his daughter didn't mean she could trust her completely. She could still be the killer, no one was innocent in her mind.

"Do any of you have anyone that might want to target you?" Wayne continued, his tone shifting to one of serious inquiry.

"I would love to say no but we both know I would be lying".

"Not anyone who's still alive," Tara answered coldly as Bailey stared at her in shock.

"Yikes,"

The door swung open, revealing yet another police officer who strode in with an air of urgency. "FBI's here, claiming jurisdiction," he announced, his tone leaving little room for doubt.

"Where are they?" Wayne asked, rising from his seat.

"We should probably follow him," Iris suggested, her instincts kicking in. After exchanging glances, Tara and Sam nodded in agreement, and they all stood up, following Bailey out of the interrogation room. As they stepped into the bustling hallway, they spotted a blonde woman  talking to the man in a suit. Sam's eyes widened in recognition.

"Kirby?" she blurted out, shock evident in her voice.

The woman turned at the sound of her name and walked over, a broad smile spreading across her face as she enveloped Sam in a warm hug. "Hey, Sam!"

Tara looked on, surprised, as Kirby shifted her attention to her. "Tara," she acknowledged with a nod before her gaze landed on Iris. There was a brief pause as Kirby took a deep breath, preparing to greet her as well.

"Hi, Iris."

Iris felt a wave of confusion wash over her. The name sounded familiar, but she couldn't quite place it. "Hey, do we know each other?"

Kirby smiled softly, her eyes reflecting a hint of nostalgia. "You don't remember me, but I used to babysit you."

"Wait, really? When?" Iris's mind raced, trying to grasp the fragments of her past.

"When you were about six or seven, I helped your sister out a lot," Kirby explained, her tone warm and reminiscent. Suddenly, memories began to resurface in Iris's mind. "Olivia was my friend."

Iris's eyes lit up with recognition, she was Kirby Reed one of the survivors of the Ghostface attacks in 2011. "I remember you now" she exclaimed, a soft smile breaking across her face.

"You're with the FBI?" Sam asked, Kirby nodded, her expression shifting to one of seriousness.

Wayne, who had been observing the exchange with growing curiosity, interjected, "You guys know each other?"

"Yeah, we went to Woodsboro High together," Sam said, shaking her head in the slightest. "She was a senior when I was a freshman."

"We share a certain history, yeah," Kirby murmured, then she turned to Wayne."I'm not trying to get into a jurisdictional pissing contest here, I just want to help. I'll show you mine... etc".

Kirby handed Wayne the information she had, one of them being another mask.

"He left this mask at the bodega," she affirmed. "DNA traces of two individuals, Charlie Walker, Jill Roberts, both deceased."

"The Ghostface killers of 2011," Iris said. Kirby looked at her with sadness. She lifted up her shirt, revealing the scar on her stomach. "Charlie Walker gave me this."

"Like I said, I take a special interest". Kirby stated, turning her attention to the three women standing in front of her. "Is this the mask he was wearing when he attacked you?"

"No," Tara replied, shaking her head firmly, the memory of the attack still vivid in her mind.

Wayne furrowed his brow, processing the implications of their exchange. "So he's leaving them on purpose," he voiced aloud, the realization dawning on him.

"Exactly," Kirby added, her expression serious. "Which means whoever's doing this is a student of the killers who came before. Maybe he believes that Sam is the latest in a long line"

"Which means he's insane," Iris interjected, her frustration evident. "That's nothing new."

"Yeah, good luck with that," Sam replied sarcastically, crossing her arms as she glanced at the mask. She felt an overwhelming urge to escape the suffocating environment. "We're getting out of town."

As the three friends tried to walk away from the investigators, Wayne suddenly halted their steps with one firm statement. "I'm sorry, that's not possible."

"Why not?" Iris asked, anger bubbling beneath the surface as she turned to face him. "We are allowed to leave at any moment. This is absurd."

"All three of you are person's of interest in a double homicide, so you're not allowed to leave town, sorry."

Sam opened her mouth to protest, but Tara quickly jumped in, her voice steady. "Are you serious?"

"He's right," Kirby confirmed. "But if we work together-"

"Yeah no thanks, we rather escape".

"We're going" Sam interrupted Kirby as she tried to talk once again.

The three of them burst out of the police station, squinting against the bright afternoon sun that bathed the street in a harsh light. As they stepped into the open air, they were immediately met with reporters shouting and cameras recording.

Microphones were thrust toward them, questions shouted in rapid succession, Iris felt her heart race, a mixture of anxiety and frustration coursing through her. "We need to get out of here," she muttered, glancing at Tara and Sam, who looked equally disoriented.

Tara shielded her eyes from the sun and tried to push through the throng. "Just ignore them! Let's keep moving!"

Sam nodded, her jaw set in a grim line as she tried to maintain her composure amid the frenzy. The last thing they needed was to become the center of a media circus. They started walking faster, trying to navigate through the crowd, but the reporters closed in, creating a wall of intrusive questions and flashing lights.

"Samantha, do you have an alibi for last night's murders?"

"Tara, do you feel safe around your sister?"

None of them bothered to answer any of the questions they were thrown.

"Gale Weathers, Channel 4." Sam, Iris and Tara turned around to glare at the older woman. Just when they thought things couldn't get worse. "Do you ladies think you're the reason the Ghostface killer has come to the Big Apple?"

Sam didn't even bother to answer as she tried to punch Gale in the face though the woman was quick to dodge it. "Nice try, sweetie, but I've done this dance before,".

Then Tara, without anyone expecting it, punched the woman right in the face, making Gale place her hand in her cheek in surprise and pain.

"Good punch" Iris whispered as she stared at Tara.

"Don't take one more step Gale, we want nothing to do with you" Iris snapped at the older woman.

"Are you guys still mad at me?" Gale exclaimed in shock as if she couldn't believe someone wouldn't want to talk to her.

"You said you wouldn't write a book about what happened," Sam shot back at her. "And then you wrote a book about what happened."

"Oh, come on! Somebody was going to write about it. It's what I do!"

"I heard you couldn't sell the movie rights," Tara taunted her.

"It's all about true-crime limited series these days," Gale sighed in despair.

"After everything we went through together," Sam said coldly, she couldn't believe the audacity . "What would Dewey think?"

"That was a low blow."

"Good, I hope it hurts to know that Dewey would be disappointed in you" Iris spoke.

"So was your book," Sam was quick to speak once again. "You called me unstable and a born killer."

"That's taken out of context-"

"That's literally a quote."

"You don't think what you wrote has something to do with what's happening to us?" Tara questioned the woman.

"Come on," Sam muttered to the other two as she turned to leave.

"Hey, I talked to Sidney," Gale added, as she followed them.

"Please tell me she's not coming" said Iris.

"No. She sends her love," The woman answered. "But she's taking Mark and the kids somewhere safe. She deserves to have her happy ending.

"On that much we agree," Sam sighed in relief for the Sidney.

"At least someone should have a normal life".

Then they stopped a taxi and they all got in.

"Hey, I want to catch this fucker as much as you three do!"

"Maybe," Tara shouted back. "Or maybe you're just afraid that without Ghostface in your life, you're gonna fade away."

A few hours later, the group found themselves gathered on a set of benches in the sun-drenched university campus, the air buzzing with anxiety. Mindy had orchestrated this reunion with a singular purpose: to dissect the events surrounding Ghostface. It was one of those beautiful days that seemed ill-suited for discussing such horrific topics, yet here they were.

"Okay, nerds! Listen up!" Mindy clapped her hands, her enthusiasm a stark contrast to the matter. "As terrifying as this all is, I'm actually glad I have the chance to redeem myself for not calling out the killer last time."

"Not this again," Iris muttered under her breath, her eyes rolling in exasperation.

Mindy waved her off with a playful grin. "Okay, hear me out! The way I see it, someone is clearly trying to create a sequel to the requel."

"Uhm, what's a requel?" Anika piped up, raising her hand as if she were in class, her curiosity shining through.

Mindy beamed at her girlfriend, momentarily distracted. "You're beautiful, sweetie," she said, her smile warm and genuine. "But let's hold all questions until the end, alright?."

"Stab 1 took place in Woodsboro". Sam interjected, her voice steady. "And Stab 2 took place in college."

Tara's eyes widened as she connected the dots. "So, we think the killer is trying to copy the movies?" Chad, leaning back with a weary expression, sighed deeply, as if the weight of their predicament was already exhausting him.

"That is one possibility," Mindy agreed with the girl. "Heroes now in college, check. Suspicious new characters brought in to round out the suspect list and body count check." She pointed at Ethan, Anika and Quinn. Anika tensed up at Mindy's declaration while Ethan looked nervously at the group and Quinn just looked confused.

"I don't like this," Ethan blurted out, a hint of panic in his voice. "It sounds like you're accusing us".

Iris raised an eyebrow, leaning forward slightly as she studied him. "That depends. Have you done anything weird lately?" She tried to mask her words with a teasing tone, but the weight of her question hung in the air, making it clear she was serious.

Ethan chuckled awkwardly, his eyes darting away. "If you count weird as going to classes, then yeah, I guess so," he replied, forcing a laugh that fell flat among his friends.

Iris tilted her head, her expression unreadable. "You said you haven't watched Stab, right?"

"Yeah, what about it?" he asked, the confusion in his voice deepening.

"I just think it's curious, that's all," Iris said, adopting a nonchalant tone that didn't quite match the intensity of the moment.

Ethan frowned, trying to decipher her meaning. "I'm not the biggest fan of horror movies, you know that,".

"Sure, but it's not just that," Iris pressed on, her tone shifting to something more serious. "In a situation like this, it's almost suspicious not to be familiar with those movies. Especially with what's going on."

Ethan shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "So you think I'm acting suspicious because I don't watch slasher films? That's a bit extreme, don't you think?"

"I just think it's worth discussing," Iris insisted, her eyes never leaving his. "The last time someone told me he hadn't watched those movies was also the last time we got stabbed so...".

"He's also dead now".

"Jesus Iris". Ethan whispered in horror.

The group fell silent for a moment, the tension thickening as they all considered the implications of Iris's words. Mindy exchanged glances with Tara, and Chad shifted in his seat, clearly uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation.

Iris would have continued pressing Ethan for answers, but suddenly she felt a hand gripping her thigh. Glancing up, she realized the hand belonged to Tara, who was silently signaling her to back off. Understanding the cue, Iris fell silent and placed her own hand gently over Tara's.

"Thank you, Iris, for your wonderful comments. I'm sure everyone appreciated them," Mindy said, clapping her hands together in a conciliatory gesture. "But we can't just focus on Stab 2."

"Why not?" Tara asked, her brow furrowed in confusion.

"It would make sense if this were just a sequel. But we're not in a sequel, because nobody just makes sequels anymore. Were in a franchise!" Mindy's excitement was palpable as she delved into her theory. "And there are certain rules to a continuing franchise"

"I'm shocked" Iris sarcastically said. "This is shocking news"

"Rule one: Everything is bigger than last time. Bigger budget, bigger cast, bigger body count. Longer chases, shoot-outs, beheadings. You got to top what came before to keep people coming back"

"Beheadings?" Chad questioned fearfully. He was taking notes of everything his sister was saying.

"Beheadings." Mindy repeated back to her brother. "Rule two: Whatever happened last time, expect the opposite. Franchises only survive by subverting expectations. If the killers last time were whiny snowflake film nerds with letterbox accounts instead of personalities, you can bet the opposite will be true here"

"And rule three: No one is safe. Legacy characters? Cannon fodder at this point.

Usually brought back only to be killed off in some cheap bid for nostalgia. It's not looking to good for Gale and Kirby" Mindy said, glancing at her friends. "Oh, and that's not even the worst part!"

"This is the part where she tells us the worst part" Chad muttered not looking up from his notebook.

"The worst part is franchises are just continuing episodic installments designed to boost an IP. Which means main characters are completely expendable now, too. Laurie Strode, Nancy Thompson, Ellen Ripley..."

"What the fuck is she talking about?" Iris whispered to Tara.

"Just say yes and nod".

"I mean, even Luke Skywalker, they all died so their franchises could live on. That means it's not just the friend group. Any of us could go at any time, especially Sam and Tara" Mindy finished her rant. "Well so do you Ris".

"Thanks Mindy, I especially liked the part you told me I was going to die".

"Wait, any of us?" Ethan asked, glancing nervously around at his friends. Mindy nodded, her expression serious.

"Am I even in the friend group? Am I, like, one of the targets here?" He questioned, his voice rising with a hint of panic.

"Mm-hmm," Mindy replied again, her tone unwavering.

"Am I gonna die a virgin?" he blurted out, causing everyone to exchange bewildered looks.

"Definitely," Iris shot back, her tone matter-of-fact, which made Tara and Chad snort quietly in amusement.

"That was a weird overshare," Mindy cringed, shaking her head. "But it does lead us to our current suspects: Ethan, the shy, dorky guy that no one would ever suspect, precisely because he's so shy and dorky."

"Why am I on the suspect list?" Ethan asked, trying to keep his tone serious. "Just because I happen to be Chad's roommate?"

"Roommate lotteries can be juked," Mindy scoffed at him. "You could've fixed it to get next to us".  Ethan's expression darkened, clearly offended by the insinuation. "Also Iris had a point."

Mindy shifted her focus, turning toward Quinn with an expectant look. "Let's not forget Quinn, the 'slutty' roommate," she continued. "A horror movie. classic".

"Sex positive, but...thank you?" Quinn told her not knowing if she should be offended or not.

"So, how did you end up living with Sam, Tara, and Iris?" Mindy asked Quinn, her curiosity piqued.

"I answered their ad online," Quinn replied like it was obvious.

"Okay, say no more," Mindy said, a sly grin spreading across her face. "You've already implicated yourself enough."

"It was an anonymous ad, Mindy," Tara defended her, a trace of irritation in her voice. "And you know we vetted her. Plus, her dad is a cop,"

"And that makes it more likely that she's the killer, because having a cop dad is a great cover. Mindy shot back, her tone accusatory. "Do you not remember how these movies work, Tara?". Iris shrugged in agreement, a thoughtful look on her face, while Quinn shot them both an offended glance, clearly not pleased with their insinuations. Iris mouthed a quick "sorry" to her.

"Is she always like this?" Quinn whispered to Iris, her voice low enough to avoid being overheard.

"Yep, you get used to it," Iris replied with a smile. "It's part of her charm, really."

Mindy, not missing a beat, continued her theatrics. "And finally... Anika!" She blew kisses in Anika's direction. "Never trust the love interest." Anika's smile faltered at that remark. "Last attack proved that point, didn't it?" Mindy pointed a finger at Sam and Iris, the latter grimacing in response.

"Okay! So, we have our rules and we have our suspects," Sam said thoughtfully, leaning forward on the bench, her brows furrowed in concentration.

"But wait. What about you guys?" Ethan muttered, motioning towards the rest of the group.

"I think it's pretty safe to rule out the five of us who went through this two years ago in Woodsboro," Mindy declared confidently, though Iris shot Ethan a wary look.

"Agreed," Chad chimed in, nodding his head.

"Um, not so fast," Quinn interjected. "What if the trauma you all experienced caused one or more of you to snap?"

"That's literally bullshit," Iris retorted, crossing her arms defiantly.

"Yeah, or maybe the fame you gained from surviving those killings made you thirsty for more," Ethan added, his gaze sweeping over the group. "Let's be honest here, some of the theories online about Sam are..."

"Don't you fucking dare," Tara said, glaring at him, her voice low but fierce. Ethan looked down, wide-eyed.

"Okay, she's right, though," Anika attempted to defuse the tension. "I mean, if we're all suspects, then you're all suspects".

[aviiarie]

Good evening, avie. Consider this my first request on this account.

Lyney's daughter realises, much to her horror, that her normally jovial father's version of the 'Shovel Talk' is to glare down her date with his 'Thousand Yard Stare'.

⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ SHOVEL TALK. platonic lyney & fem!reader !

synopsis. lyney meets his daughter's date for the first time. contents. PLATONIC. reader's partner is gn; they/them is used for them. fem!reader. fluff. 0.9k words. notes. alright! i don't usually write fem!reader, so this was an interesting change of pace. you didn't specify gender for the partner so i went with gn ^^

When she first told Lyney about them, she was nervous. She knew he was as understanding as a father could be, but in between assuring her he would support her through anything, he was very outspoken in telling her that he wouldn’t allow any partner to hurt her. He wanted to make sure they were the ‘right’ kind of person—he couldn’t have his precious daughter getting mixed up with the wrong sorts and wounding up in trouble, could he?

Lyney’s suggestion (and solution to his apprehension) was for their planned date to be held at his and Lynette’s magic show the next weekend, followed by a nice dinner together. That way, they would have an enjoyable time, and he would have the opportunity to figure out just who this mystery partner was.

She agreed, and the date was set.

The couple met outside the show, and immediately security ushered them into the private booth reserved for the just the two. From there, they could see the whole show; dazzling lights landing on Lyney and Lynette as they performed. It was as breathtaking as the first time she saw them perform when she was young; their presence lit up the entire theatre, turning a simple stage into a show of wonder.

Beside her, her partner was enraptured as well; they had hardly taken their eyes off the stage since the magicians had stepped on.

Once the show concluded and the excitement began to simmer down, the two were whisked backstage to Lyney and Lynette’s dressing room to meet with them. With a beat of hesitation, she knocked on the door.

“Mon chou, how are you?” Lyney beamed as soon as he saw her. He pulled her into a quick hug—warm, and tight, as they always were. “How was the show? Come, come in!”

“I’m alright. The show was great.” She said with an uncertain smile. The dressing room was as cosy as she remembered it, with a squashy couch and a table of drinks and snacks. Lynette was sitting at one of the vanities, carefully cleaning away her stage makeup.

“Good to hear.” Lyney said warmly, sitting back down at the other vanity. He spun the chair to face them, watching as the pair took their place on the couch. He hadn’t acknowledged her partner at all, barely even glancing over at them. It seemed he was more than content waiting for either her or them to be the one to make the first move to introducing them.

She cast a quick look over to her partner, and they offered her a comforting smile.

“Um… I would like to introduce you to someone,” She took a deep breath, bracing herself. “Dad, meet [s/o].”

Silence fell. Her eyes darted between her partner and her father. Lynette looked over at them curiously. Lyney was quiet, narrowing his eyes. The bright expression had slipped away sometime after closing the dressing room door, leaving his face blank.

“…Hm.”

Her partner cleared their throat awkwardly. “Uh… nice to meet you. I’m [s/o]”

They held out their hand for a handshake, and Lyney stared at it, still not saying a word.

“It is nice to meet you,” Lynette said, taking pity on them and shaking their hand. “I am [Name]’s aunt, Lynette. Please excuse my brother.”

“Um… no problem.” They smiled sheepishly, and the stifling silence settled again.

“So!” [Name] interrupted loudly. “…How has your performances been today?”

“Oh, the usual.” Lynette said, sighing as she spun back around in her chair and continued cleaning away her makeup.

“I… I thought it was great.” Her partner said with a sheepish smile. “It was just as amazing as people say it is. You know, I’ve been waiting to see you perform for ages, so I was pretty excited when [Name] told me our date was going to be here.”

“So that’s why you’re dating her?” Lyney suddenly said. His eyes narrowed on them. “To take advantage of her connections?”

“No!” They quickly said. “I—”

“Do you care about her at all, or just who her family is?” Lyney pressed, leaning forward in his chair. “What exactly are your intentions?”

“I’m—” They faltered, shifting uncomfortably under his intense gaze. “Well, I…”

They cast a look over at [Name]. She was smiling back at them, all warmth under her own nerves.

“I care about her.” They said resolutely. “She makes me happy. And I want to make her happy, for as long as she will let me.”

Lyney stared at them for a beat, each second punctuated by a tick of the clock. Eventually, he leaned back in his seat, folding his arms over his chest. “…Hm.”

The tension dissipated, both halves of the couple breathing out in relief. Lynette cleared her throat, standing from her chair. “You two had dinner afterwards, correct? Would you like me to walk you out?”

“Sure,” [Name] smiled, standing as well. She gave her father a brief hug, whispering a quiet goodbye. Lynette held the door open for her to walk through, and she murmured a quiet thanks.

“That was terrifying.” Their partner said as soon as the door shut behind them.

“Tell me about it…” She sighed, walking in step beside them.

“Do you think your dad liked me?”

Lynette chuckled behind the couple. “Don’t worry. We liked you plenty.”

© aviiarie 2024. do not copy, repost, translate or use my work to train ai.