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wooataes · 2 days ago

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Real Eyes, Fake Lies (Part 11)

Pairing: soulmate!Lee Jihoon x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: Hanahaki!AU, angst, all hurt no comfort, swearing, tears, the usual 🙂‍↕️

Summary: What do you do when you find out the one person that was created by the universe to be yours doesn’t want you back?

A/N: It has been WAY too long since I've updated this story and I apologise for that 🙂‍↕️ I finally feel like I've gotten my life back on track to finally be able to post a long awaited update!! Thank you to everyone who still reads and enjoys my fics, it means a lot ! 🥹 - Tae 💜🌸✨

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“Do you know what’s wrong with him?”

“His girlfriend left him, genius. What do you think is wrong with him?”

Jihoon rolls his eyes. His housemates have as much subtlety as an earthquake. Their naturally loud voices seep through the closed door of his bedroom as he stares at his ceiling, a sigh leaving his lungs in the darkness as the outside voices drone on.

“Hyung,” Mingyu sighs. “It’s been over a week now… Should we call someone?”

“Who would we call?” Junhui retorts. “His soulmate? Because up until last week, I thought his soulmate was Ji-ah.”

The mention of her name creates another pit in Jihoon’s stomach. He hates it. He wishes he could just get over the stupid emotions that run through his veins at the mere thought of his not-soulmate, now also not-girlfriend.

“His parents are hours away and he has no siblings that we can contact.” Junhui continues, frustration laced in his voice. “I don’t know who we could call.”

“Doesn’t hyung have a cousin who-”

“I can hear everything you guys are saying. You know that, right?”

Jihoon’s hard voice carries through the door, his housemates falling silent on the other end.

“Jihoon-ah.” A deep voice mutters, causing him to tense up. He knows that Wonwoo knows how to get through to him. “Can we talk?”

After a long pause, Jihoon’s bedroom door slightly creaks open. “Wonwoo, I told you yesterday,” he stares at the ground, refusing to make eye contact with the older man. “I am fine-”

“You are not, Jihoon-ah. And we both know it.”

“How do you know?” He snips.

“You haven’t left your bedroom since Ji-ah left you last week.” Jihoon sucks his teeth at her name.

“I never left my bedroom before she left me.” He hisses back.

“Yes, you did.” Wonwoo retorts back.

“When? To go on dates with her?” he barks. “To take her out? To go visit her family? Well, guess what? She is gone, Wonwoo, so I have a whole lot more free time and I choose to spend that time at home.” his voice cracks slightly, bottom lip shaking as he moves to close the door once more, his frown deepening as Mingyu grabs a hold of the door before it closes.

“Hyung, we’re sorry.” Mingyu’s voice is softer now as he looks at him with sad eyes. “We’re so fucking sorry that you’re going through this but we are here for you and want to be there for you.”

“I don’t need-”

“Please don’t push us away.” Wonwoo frowns, his hand resting over Jihoons. “Jihoon-ah…”

Jihoon shakes his head quietly, a small hiccup leaving his lips. “Wonwoo, I promise, I’m fine.” He gently lets his hand fall from Wonwoo’s as he moves to shut the door to his bedroom once more, wiping the stray tears that threaten to spill from his eyes.

“I truly don’t know what to do, guys.” Jihoon winces at the defeated tone of his older housemate’s voice as he climbs back into the comfort of his bed once more, hoping to forget about the world around him for a little bit longer.

Jihoon heaves a loud sigh as he steps into his first Film Studies class in nearly two weeks, slumping down in his chair, rubbing at his temples slightly as Professor Park begins his usual droning on. He really should be listening to the lecture at hand, but he can’t bring himself to. Not when he can feel the eyes of multiple people in the class lingering on him. He’s sure that word has gotten around now about his very public dumping and the fact that Ji-ah was obviously never his soulmate. He hates that he can feel the sympathy radiating off of his peers, and even off of you, his real soulmate, sitting directly beside him with your stupid perfect hair and stupidly neat notes that you wordlessly offered him to help catch him up on the classes he missed. He accepts them graciously, spending most of the lesson copying your notes into his notebook.

“Professor,” a deep voice from the back of the room calls out near the end of the lesson, drawing Jihoon from his thoughts.

“Yes, Jaebeom?”

Your soulmate glances at you at the sight of your body tensing up at the mention of the newcomer’s name. He tilts his head slightly as he feels nerves begin to bubble in the pit of his stomach from you, causing him to raise a brow. You take a slow breath before scribbling idly on your page again, indifference on your face, but Jihoon knows it’s a front.

Why are you so tense?

“About the extension on our group project?” Jaebeom’s voice lulls out in a drawl, a clear cockiness hidden in his tone.

“Ah yes,” Professor Park hums, nodding his head. “I know some of you have gone ahead and already submitted your essays and presentations to me, and I’m thankful for you guys for getting these to me on time and even earlier. For the remainder of you all who have yet to submit your projects, I’ve extended the deadline by two weeks, due to an unavoidable event I must attend.”

Jihoon hears his classmate’s sighs of relief, and in turn, he breathes out as well. He knew he had neglected his end of his project with you for the last week, and he feels grateful that he can make up for it.

“I do hope the rest of you,” Professor Park sends a look to the back of the room, “get this done in due time. Class dismissed.”

Jihoon wordlessly offers your notebook back to you, a frown forming on his face when he sees you duck your head, letting your hair fall over your face. He glances to see a taller man wearing low jeans and a beat up baseball cap on his head march- no, strut down the stairs to reach the door, sauntering out with what Jihoon can only describe as a sleazy grin on his face. Once he steps out of the room, you immediately collect your things, bow your head to Jihoon with a little smile, and jump up to leave the classroom.

“Professor,” your soulmate approaches the teacher. “I appreciate you extending the deadline-”

“Oh, Jihoon-ssi!” Professor Park smiled. “Are you feeling better? Miss Choi told me that you were unwell when she submitted your project to me last week.”

“Oh.. Yeah, I’m feeling alri- Wait. Submitted?” Jihoon blinked.

“Yes,” he smiled. “Both of your arguments had wonderful points to pit against each other. Well done! I will be posting your grades in a few weeks!”

You finished off the project for him? Why are you so… nice?

“Uh… Thank you, Professor.” Jihoon bows his head in thanks before slowly stepping out of the classroom, starting to walk in the direction of home, the sound of thunder rumbling in the distance.

Jihoon takes a deep sigh as he finds himself sitting down at the park bench that is so familiar to him now, letting the raindrops land on his clothes and face as he tilts his head back.

“Jihoon-ssi?” your voice is quiet over the sound of the loud rain, but Jihoon could hear you. He always does. He blinks as he feels the heavy raindrops that land on his hoodie abruptly stop, looking up to see a pastel umbrella being held over his now drenched body. “What are you doing out here?”

Jihoon shrugs quietly for a moment. “I… don’t know.” He glances down at the wet sleeves of his hoodie. “Just.. Thinking.”

“Well, I think you should think away from a torrential downpour next time,” you quip with a little smile, hoping the joke makes him crack a smile.

“Nah,” he hums. “It’s comforting, the rain..”

“Comforting?” You echo, tilting your head innocently as he hums a confirmation.

“Mm. Rain doesn’t have colour.” He glances at you for a moment, slightly amused by the cluelessness on your face as you just blink at him. “Ah, it’s silly, really,” he continues. “The sky doesn’t have colour when it rains, it reminds me of what the world looked like before everything changed. Everything is so different now.”

“You’re right.” You agree quietly. “Everything is different.”

“Thank you,” Jihoon mumbles after a brief silence. “For helping finish off the project while I was… y’know.”

“Oh, that?” You shrug. “That was nothing. You had all the arguments, I just articulated them for you. Figured that you already had enough on your plate so I thought you wouldn’t mind if I submitted a little early to get it out of the way for the both of us.”

“How do you do it?”

“Huh? Do what?”

“... Live.” Jihoon’s voice is barely above a whisper as you settle down on the park bench beside Jihoon, still holding the umbrella over his head. “How do you just live life so damn happily while you feel like absolute shit all the time? And don’t deny that you don’t, I have felt every single emotion you have felt for weeks now.”

You pause for a moment, looking up at the sky before humming. “I suppose I just got used to it.” You shrug. “It kind of just became like a background noise for me. It’s just always there.”

“Even when the pain is doubled now? Because of me?”

You shrug once more. “It’s not something I haven’t dealt with before. I can feel the pain for both of us, Jihoon-ssi. It’s okay.” You give him a little smile. “I have had a lot more practice at loss than you have.”

Jihoon feels the irritation bubbling up inside him slowly.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

You blink in confusion as you glance at him. “Huh?”

“I have experienced loss too, you know.”

“I know that, I just-”

“I am more than capable of feeling these emotions too.” He frowns.

“I know,” you emphasize, “I just wanted you to know you don’t have to face them on your own.”

Jihoon scoffs quietly. Who does she think she is, giving him advice on how to deal with his emotions? “I know that too. You don’t need to point out the obvious, Choi.”

“Do you know that?” You retort, raising an eyebrow. “Because from what Mingyu told me, you’ve barely left your room until this week.”

“Ugh,” Jihoon groans, leaning his head back. “Am I not allowed to have time to myself?”

“Of course you are,” you sigh. “But you’re also-”

“You know, you should think about facing your emotions on your own instead of relying on everyone else around you.” Jihoon hisses at you with a glare as you freeze with wide eyes.

“H-huh?” He can feel your doubt seeping into his veins.

“Your brother, his soulmate, Soonyoung, Seokmin,” he rambles. “They’re always at your beck and call when they could be living their own lives with each other and not have to worry about you every five fucking minutes like you’re their child.”

“I…” You balk, Jihoon wincing at the feeling of your stomach twisting inside him. But he doesn't care, he wants you to hurt as much as he does. It’s your fault he doesn’t have Ji-ah anymore, afterall.

“Just go away!” He barks. “When will you realize that your help isn’t needed?! You’re not needed! I lost the one girl I truly fucking loved because of YOU! Why would I want you around?! Leave me alone already!”

After a long silence, Jihoon finally turns his head to look at you, staring at him for what seems like hours with the same look that you had on the day you brushed hands for the first time. That isn’t what frightens your soulmate, though. What frightens him is the fact that he can’t feel anything inside him anymore, besides his own pain.

“... sorry, I’ll leave you alone.” You mumble robotically, delicately placing the umbrella beside him before rising and walking through the heavy rain in the direction of your house, letting the rain run down your clothes.

“Fuck.” Jihoon sighs heavily and buries his face into his hands, squeezing his eyes shut as he hears your footsteps move further and further away.

He needs to apologize. He knows he does. He knows he said those words out of anger and hurt, and he knows you definitely didn’t deserve it.

But why can’t he find it in himself to go to you and do it? You’re literally two tables away from him right now.

Jihoon, he scolds himself, it’s been days. You need to man up and tell her you’re sorry.

Could he be worrying a little now because since he confronted you, he has felt no emotions whatsoever from you? Has he finally lost the tether from you?

“Hello you!!” A loud, cheery voice snaps him into reality. He blinks as he stares at his cup of ramen in his hand, fidgeting on the hard steel of the cafeteria chair underneath him, trying to figure out where the loud voice had come from.

Seungkwan makes his way over to where you’re sitting, draping himself over your back. Before he can ask how you are, you jolt up quickly, scooting away from him like you’ve been burned.

“Hey.” You give him a little smile, pressing yourself up against the wall. “Where’s Hansol? You should be with Hansol.”

Seungkwan’s face contorts slightly as he sticks his lips out in almost a pout. “He had to run to make his next class… Bug, what’s wrong-”

“I actually have to run too, Kwan.” You stammer out quickly, grabbing your backpack and stepping out from behind the table. “Talk later?”

“But, you haven’t even touched your lunch…” his voice fades out as he watches you rush quickly out of the cafeteria, surprise etched on his face.

Jihoon watches on, just as surprised as Seungkwan as he reaches the table with him, Soonyoung and Seokmin.

“Okay, what the hell was that? What happened to Bug?” Seungkwan immediately questions Soonyoung, who upon further inspection, looks just as out of it as you are.

“We don’t know,” Seokmin speaks for his soulmate. “Every time she’s at home, she stays locked up in her room and only leaves to cook dinner for us and clean up. She didn’t even come down for movie night the other night.”

Your soulmate’s eyes widened slightly as Soonyoung took a deep breath. “Something has happened and she won’t tell us what. She doesn’t even speak when she’s at home anymore.”

“We’ve tried to talk to her, get her to come out of her room, do anything, but she doesn’t budge. I’m getting worried.” Seokmin bites his lip.

“I don’t know what the hell has happened to our Bug. She is literally just doing fucking chores and whenver one of us tries to hang out..” your best friend rubs at his temples. “She keeps insisting we hang out with our soulmates. With each other. I don’t know why the fuck that doesn’t mean she can’t hang out with us too.”

Jihoon feels sick as your housemate’s words sink in to him.

When will you realize your help isn’t needed? You’re not needed!

Fuck.

“Jesus Christ, Jihoon-ah.” Wonwoo breathes out when Jihoon finally steps through the door. “You were supposed to be back four hours ago. What the hell were you- Jihoon-ah?”

His eyes widened at the sight of his housemate stepping under the lights of the hallway, lip trembling and hair sticking in six different directions. Jihoon truly didn’t mean to take so long making it home. He supposes he lost track of time wandering campus with his racing mind.

He knew his words had gotten to you. At the moment it felt good, for you to feel the pain he did. But now? Seeing his friends, your family agonizing over how detached you are?

What has he done?

“Jihoon…” Junhui looks on worriedly, reaching forward to slip the backpack off his housemate’s shoulders.

“I… I knew what I was getting into when I chose to date her, Wonwoo.” His voice quivers as he stares at the ground. “I knew that she already had a soulmate, but… I-I didn’t think…”

“Of course you didn’t.” Wonwoo agrees.

“She told me that he had moved countries years ago… There was no chance he’d come back…” a small tear slides down his cheek as his housemate hums in acknowledgement. “And when I… when I found my soulmate and I-” Jihoon chokes back a sob. “And I rejected them to keep a hold of Ji-ah…” His soft cries echo into the quiet hallway. “I… I felt their heart break inside of me, I’ve felt their pain for weeks a-and now I feel their pain on top of my own and… fuck, I broke her, man.”

“Oh, Jihoon…” Junhui sighs sympathetically as Wonwoo pulls Jihoon towards him, bringing his head into his shoulder as his arms wrap around his back in a warm embrace.

Jihoon pauses for a moment. He blinks once, twice, and a third time before he lets out a soft sob, his hands gripping onto Wonwoo’s shoulders desperately as he buries his face into the soft fabric of his shirt.

“Hyung,” he chokes out. “I r-really fucked up.”

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#seventeen angst #seventeen fanfic #seventeen x reader #lee jihoon x reader #woozi angst #woozi x reader #lee Jihoon angst #seventeen au

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i-am-a-bad-influence-writes · 13 hours ago

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P*rn ☆ Chapter 14, Silence after the storm

Masterlist Word count: 1.7 k Sylus x Fem!Reader

Summary: You have been following a spicy content creator by the name of Red Crow for some time now. Nothing could’ve prepared you for what would happen when he moves into the apartment next door.

Author's note: Homestretch baby! Just the epilogue left. Thank ya'll for reading this story, thank you so much for all the wonderful comments. I love you all so fucking much <3

Warning! This story is meant for mature audiences. It contains sex, swear words, porn, smoking, intimate piercings, mentions of drugs, alcohol, mentions of domestic abuse, and other mature themes. Do not engage if you are under 18.

Mature content under the cut.

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'As much as I love that you stood up for yourself. You can't just go around punching your ex square in the jaw.' Sylus looks like a kicked puppy sitting on the bench behind bars. His looks already tells you that he knows, he just doesn't want to admit it. 'Anyway, Zayne is paying your bail.'

'You shouldn't let him do that.'

'Sylus, baby, I love you, but you know I have no control over that man. He was already filling in the paperwork by the time I fully understood what happened.' As if on que, an officer walks over and unlocks the cell door.

'Alright, get out,' he grumbles as he gestures for Sylus to make haste, 'your bail is paid and from what I can tell, that woman isn't pressing charges.'

'Good, then can I press charges,' Sylus questions the man as he walks out of the cell. That surprises the officer.

'What for?'

'Did you watch the security footage?' The officer shakes his head. 'She attacked me first and I have it on file that she has attacked me before. I want to press charges and file for a restraining order.'

'O-okay,' the officer stutters, 'follow me.' Sylus takes your hand and drags you along. You feel like you're gleaming. You've never been prouder of anyone in your whole dang life. It is so inexplicably hot to see him take his power back like this.

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The drive home was tense. Incredibly so. It might've had something to do with Sylus’ hand between your thighs while he was driving your car, or maybe, just maybe, it had something to do with the fact you told him he could do anything to you when you got home. You know, as a treat for being such a brave boy.

By the time you got home, you were dripping wet and the tent in Sylus pants was undeniable. That's when he asked it.

'You said I could do anything to you. Would you suck me off on camera?'

'To post?'

'Yes,' he answered quickly, a sly smirk on his lips as he took your jaw in his hand, 'you face doesn't have to be in it, but I want to show people how happy you make me. And maybe to claim you a little.'

“Be still my beating vagina.”

And now you are on your knees in front of Sylus. The whole thing looks an awful lot like the video he made when he first met you.

Sylus on the edge of his bed, phone on the dresser recording, him fully clothed but some loose buttons on his shirt and his dick out of his pants. Only this time his head is in frame and only the top of your head is in it. Feels like a very strange full circle moment.

'Take your shirt off for me, sweetie.' His voice is a rumbling command, which you had expected. He portrays himself much more dominant than he actually is, yet you can't help but give him the brattiest look you can muster up. He smirks and runs a hand through your hair, grabbing it tightly in the back and lifting a little. You quickly move with his motion as he tilts your had back. 'Are you gonna play nice for me?'

Shit, that's so fucking hot. You nod as frantically as you can with his hand holding your hair. Since you didn't really want your likeness on the internet in this way, you agreed you wouldn't have to speak.

He lets go of your hair and you sit back on your heels. His eyes never leave yours whiles you take your shirt off. 'Loose the bra.' You do as he says. 'Good girl.' This experience is already mouth and pussy wateringly good. You sincerely hope he'll take this role more often if you ask him to.

'Well, what are you waiting for?' And even in this role, he tells you he's consenting but giving you all the power and looking at you expectantly to see your answer. It is the hottest thing and makes your stomach tingle.

You move your mouth to his tip and press a kiss on top. He physically shudders, but tries to hide it a little. Then, you lick a stripe on the underside of his dick from the base to the tip, licking up his precum. He groans and puts his hand in your hair again.

'Are you teasing me?' You don't answer, don't nod, you just bat your eyes at him looking oh so innocent. Before he can say anything else, you blow on his tip. The air out of your mouth feels razor sharp over his moist dick. Surprised, he lets out a whine, and then he looks back at you with fire in his eyes, daring you to do something else, screaming: "Try me."

And you do. You move to his lower stomach, just next to his V-line, and bite down. Not hard enough to draw blood, but hard enough to elicit a hiss from him. In response, he pulls your head back, grabs your jaw with his other hand and forces it open.

'That's enough, sweetie,' he states, 'choke on it.' Once again, there's a hint of question in his lust blown eyes. When you nod the slightest bit, he pushes you down on his cock, hitting the back of your throat in one swift movement. He holds you there for a while, still searching your eyes for any sign of wanting to back out. Instead, you try to force him down a little further until you feel yourself start to gag and his dick start to twitch.

That's when he pulls you off. You take one look at him and know that he is already close. His ears and cheeks are bright red, pupils blown, breathing heavy. 'Go ahead, sweetie. You know what to do.' You nod again and slide one hand up to his chest, the other wrapped around the length that doesn't fit in your mouth as you start to set a steady pace.

He takes the hand on his chest and presses a kiss to your fingertips. Strings of moans and groans start to fill the room as you tether him closer and closer to the edge. 'Come on sweetie, I'm almost there,' he whines, desperately chasing his release.

You hollow out your cheeks and grab the hand in your hair with the hand that was around the base of his dick. He looks down at you questioningly, but quickly gets what you're getting at.

"Use me."

He starts bucking his hips into your mouth, forcing your head against him until you're almost swallowing him. It's a beautiful sight, slightly blurred by the tears stinging in your eyes. It takes mere seconds for him to fall over the edge. He pulls out of your mouth, but you hold it open, ready to take his release.

'Shit, that's hot,' he comments quietly as you take all of his seed and swallow it. After a few seconds of heavy breathing, he leans down again and meets your lips in a passionate kiss. 'Thank you,' he breathes against your lips. His arm moves past you to stop the recording. Then, he guides you to come sit on his lap. 'Do you want aftercare or do you want more?'

'Sylus,' you croak, not realizing the damage you've just done to your throat, 'that was the hottest thing I've ever seen. You're crazy if you think I want to stop here. Do you want aftercare?’

'Why would I want aftercare?'

'Because you just forced your dick down my throat for the first time and I can imagine you might feel a little bit bad after that.' He smiles and pulls you against him, strong arms engulfing your body.

'The only aftercare I need is returning the favor,' he whispers in your ear.

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"Returning the favor" he said. Yeah, because one orgasm is synonymous with five. Four from his tongue and the last one with his dick. If you were croaking after that blowjob, you were surely croaking after all that. Sylus is not completely dominant, but if he were he'd be a fucking pleasure dom for damn sure. That man enjoys your orgasms more than you do.

It's deep in the night, you are both spend. Sylus has his head on your shoulder, limbs entangled with yours as you run your hand through his hair and occasionally press kisses on his head and forehead. Soft conversation flows freely, waiting for either of you to fall asleep while both being too wired from the activities.

'Does the "do anything to you" still count,' Sylus asks out of nowhere. You can tell there's something on his mind that he's been wrecking his brain over.

'Depends.'

'On?'

'What you're about to say.' He takes a moment to consider what he's going to say and how he's going to say it. His arms tighten around your body, pulling you closer to him. Whatever he wants to discuss is something he is quite nervous about.

'With all the steps I'm trying to take, I realized I forgot about one thing,' he starts. His mumblings soft, barely audible.

'What's that?'

'I realized I never asked you to move in with me.' The world stops for a second, Sylus’ heart beats out of his chest waiting for you to respond. Only for you to start giggling. He's confused, hurt. Is this rejection?

'So you're going to make me move in with you?' He chuckles, understanding the humor in the situation. It's almost like a slap in the face. He was so sleep drunk that he almost forgot he started this conversation with the "do anything to you" line.

The giggling dies down and you feel his hands caress the naked skin of your body, desperately awaiting your reply. 'Sylus, my apartment is basically a storage unit at this point. I'm already living with you. But, if you don't mind moving again, I'd like a place that's a little bigger if you are sure about this.'

'I would move anywhere for you. I'll adapt to any place if you're there with me.'

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atleastpleasetelephone · 2 days ago

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A/N: This is my one year anniversary of writing fanfiction for Elvis! Thanks to everyone who has interacted with my posts, enjoyed reading my stories, helped me with ideas and proof-read my work. To celebrate, I've written this sequel to Dolly. It is absolutely unbridled filth, PWP, a smutfest etc.

Pairings: Dom!Elvis x Dolly!Reader

Joe x Dolly!Reader

Jerry x Dolly!Reader

Sonny x Dolly!Reader

Word count: 3.8K

TWs: Dolification, objectification, Elvis is dominant and reader is very submissive, dubcon, possessive kink, praise kink, voyeurism, exhibitionism, little bit of choking, gangbang/orgy, name-calling/demeaning language, reader is fucked stupid, kind of size kink, copious amounts of cum.

You’re sitting in your bedroom, carefully brushing your long blonde hair when you hear Joe start talking to Elvis. Your door is half-open and you can sometimes hear things the guys talk about in the living room, but this seems unusually clear.

“That little girl of yours was sounding real fun the other night.”

Your ears prick up at his mention of you and you try to lean slightly closer to the door.

Elvis laughs. “You been listenin’?”

“Hard not to, the noise she was makin’.” That’s Jerry. You wonder how many of the guys are out there.

“What were you doin’ to her, EP?” Sounds like Sonny, although you can’t be sure.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Elvis chuckles.

“You uh… you ever think of sharing her, boss?” Joe asks.

There’s a long silence, where you almost fall off your chair from leaning so close to the open door. You cross your legs and rub your thighs together a little. It’s not like you’re interested in Joe, that’s disgusting. But something about the way they are all talking about you is getting you all hot and bothered.

“What about Joan?”

You bite your lip. Elvis hadn’t said no.

“What about her?”

“Well, she not good enough?”

“She doesn't have a body like that. And your girl just seems so… obedient.”

Elvis snorts. “‘Course she is. She’s well-trained.”

“So whaddaya think, boss?” It sounds like Sonny again. “Any chance of, y’know, letting us find out just how obedient she is?”

There’s another long pause, and you wonder what exactly Elvis is considering.

“Maybe.”

You actually do lean too far this time, and when you overbalance you end up dropping your hairbrush on the floor trying to catch yourself.

“Dolly?” Elvis’ smooth baritone calls out to you.

“Yes, Daddy?”

“Come in here a minute.”

You take a deep, steadying breath and look at yourself in the mirror. You’re a little flushed already, just from listening to them talk about you, but your make-up is all done nicely and you had almost finished brushing your hair when he called. Smoothing it down, you stand up and check your dress is sitting where it should. Then you open the door and walk across the corridor and into the living room. As you stand in the doorway you look around, realising that you had successfully identified all of the voices, and their owners are now all looking back at you with ill-disguised lust.

“Good girl. Come and sit on Daddy’s lap.”

Elvis is looking particularly good today, his eyes are shining and so is his big, gold belt. His shirt sleeves are rolled up to just above his elbows, and his forearms flex as he grabs either armrest to adjust his sitting position in preparation for you following his instruction.

You walk over slowly, realising as you start to step that you’ve forgotten to put your heels on, so you end up padding across the thickly shagged carpet in just your stockinged feet. Trying not to look at the other men as they look at you, you settle yourself onto Elvis’ lap and feel his hardness pressing against your lower back immediately. Excitement and trepidation bubble in your stomach. He really doesn’t seem like he’s going to say no to sharing you.

“Now Dolly, the guys here have a proposition f’ya,” he tells you as his arms wrap around your waist and hold you to him tightly, his breath tickling your cheek.

There’s an awkward silence in the room, and the men go from openly staring at you to looking nervously at their feet.

“C’mon, guys.” Elvis’ voice is laced with irritation now, “if you want her ya have ta ask her.”

It turns out that Jerry is the brave one, though he looks up at you nervously, the mass of curls on his head bobbing as he swallows hard before finally opening his mouth.

“We were, um… talking about you,” he begins, uncertainly. The other two nod and mumble their agreement, encouraging him to continue. “And um… you’re real pretty and you made some er… real pretty noises the other night.” Jerry is blushing now and you think it makes him look kinda cute.

“And?” Elvis snaps, when the silence after Jerry’s last sentence stretches out for a few minutes.

“And we want to know just how much of a dolly you really are, Dolly,” Joe announces.

You frown. “Oh, Joe. I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” you tell him, tilting your head to one side and biting the side of your thumb. You even bat your fake eyelashes for the full effect.

“H-he… um…” Jerry starts up again, looking for all the world like he wants the earth to open up and swallow him. “He wants to know if you’d like to have a little fun with us…” When your facial expression doesn’t change from the exaggerated look of confusion you’d given Joe earlier, Jerry continues. “Like… with our clothes off. Y’know. Would ya like to please us like you please Elvis?” Jerry lets out a big sigh at the end of the sentence, as if he’s just said the most difficult thing ever.

“Oh!” You exclaim, putting a hand to either side of your face and making Elvis chuckle. “But Joe, what about your wife?” The question makes Elvis chuckle all the more.

Joe clears his throat a little awkwardly. “Well. This would just be a one-time thing you know. We wouldn’t need to tell her. Just our little secret, isn’t that right, boss?”

Elvis holds both hands up. “Nothin’ ta do with me, she’s your wife.”

His hands go back to your waist and you lean your head back against his chest a little. Rewarding you with a kiss to the temple, he looks around the room at the three men.

“Think we need some ground rules ‘fore we start.”

“I didn’t say yes!” You find yourself squeaking, sitting upright again in shock.

Another, darker chuckle. “I wanted the guys to ask ya ta be polite. Not ‘cause I wanted yer opinion, Dolly.” Pressing his nose against your face, he kisses your cheek. “Yer jus’ my little doll, ‘member. No opinions of yer own.”

You nod, realisation slowly dawning that you’re in a room with four men who can do whatever they want with you. His lips trail down your neck until his teeth find your collarbone, nibbling it a little before moving off you entirely and looking back at the rest of the room.

“Ground rules,” he reiterates. “She’s my little Dolly. So if I say stop, ya stop, okay?” The three men nod and mumble, “yes boss,” and “yes EP”. “Good,” he replies. “This pretty mouth,” he squeezes your cheeks to make you pout, “and this pretty pussy,” his hand moves to pull your legs apart and give the assembled group a good view of your panties, “are fair game. Her asshole’s mine. So don’t even think about it.”

Elvis waits for all three of them to affirm what he’s just said before continuing. You squirm in his lap under the weight of their gazes, all three trained right between your legs.

“And one more fer you, darlin’,” he coos, turning your head to look at him. “No more thoughts from now on, sweetheart. Want ya ta be a perfect little doll for me and my friends.”

Looking into those bright blue eyes you nod slowly, but you’re not sure. Of course you trust Elvis, but there are a lot of big strong men in this room. Men who could easily overpower you and outnumber him too. Your lower lip wobbles a little. The hand that’s currently cupping your cheek holds it a little more firmly as he looks back at you, seeming to try and see right into the brain you’re supposed to be emptying of thoughts right now.

“Daddy will take care a ya,” he murmurs, eyes flicking over your face, searching for clues. “I won’t let anyone hurt ya, sweetheart.”

The tenderness in his voice almost has you undone without any need for him to touch you. A whimper escapes your lips and your arms go around his neck as he kisses you lovingly. Your little audience all seem to sigh in unison.

“Okay?” He asks, as he pulls back, running a thumb over your plush lips.

“Yes, Daddy,” you reply, your earlier nervousness bubbling over into excitement again.

“Good girl.”

You squeeze your thighs together at the praise and as you turn back towards the room you realise everyone saw you do it. You blush and bat your eyelids again, eliciting something that sounds a lot like a moan from Jerry.

Elvis’ hand sweeps up your thigh, pushing the material of your skirt with it, showing your panties to the room properly this time. Joe is the first to obviously touch himself through his pants but it’s not long before the other two join him, especially when Elvis points out the damp patch you’ve made on your pretty pink panties.

“She’s filthy, EP.”

Elvis chuckles, softly. “She jus’ likes doin’ as she’s told, don’tcha, Dolly?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

He slips your panties off and throws them at Sonny, clearly seeing the hungry look on the brunette’s face. You smile at the way he almost jumps when they land in his lap, his attention being completely captured by your bare pussy. Quickly recovering a second or so later, he balls them up and stuffs them into his pocket.

Elvis kisses your neck as he pulls your legs apart, putting you on display for the other men. The cool air of the room hits your open pussy and you moan a little, feeling his fingers digging into your thighs and desperately wanting him to touch you.

“That’s a nice pussy, man,” Sonny declares, sounding a little drunk on just looking at it.

“C-can we… uh… see her tits?” You’re surprised to hear such a vulgar word from Jerry, but the way he stumbles over the words makes him seem cute again.

Elvis clicks his tongue and pushes you into a more upright position so he can pull the top of your dress down, exposing your pretty pink bra. Jerry groans. Elvis’ fingers slip underneath the straps and slide them over your shoulders, and then he’s pulling your bra down too. The cool air hits your nipples and they stand erect. You’ve never felt so looked at before, and part of you wants to run away, but the other part is bathing in the attention.

“C-can she come o-over here with those tits?”

Elvis laughs. “Ya like her tits, Jer?”

The mass of curls bobs up and down as the younger man nods his head. “God, they’re perfect.” His eyes are like saucers and they’re trained on your nipples.

“Go on, Dolly. Go and see Jerry.”

He gently pushes you off his lap and onto your feet, and you make your way over to Jerry, who spreads his legs wide as he unbuckles his belt and pulls out his dick. You watch him stroke himself as he tells you, a little nervously, to kneel down in front of him. Still stroking, he fondles your breasts with his other hand, letting out a little hum of appreciation.

“Push ‘em together, honey,” he instructs, and you do. “That’s right. Oh God,” he mumbles, still touching himself as he stares at them. “Can I just… E? Can I put my dick between them?”

“Sure,” Elvis replies, and you think you hear the sound of his belt clinking.

Unclasping your bra and removing it, Jerry rearranges you and him so that his dick is between your breasts, then pushes them together again himself. He groans as he starts to move, sliding up and down as best he can. It's obvious he’s getting very excited, you can tell from his flushed face and the cuss words falling from his lips, but he’s not about to finish any time soon and the other men quickly become frustrated.

“C’mon Jer, I need this pussy,” Sonny grumbles, from the other side of the room.

“Yeah Jerry, you’re hogging her,” Joe joins in.

Jerry sighs and stops what he’s doing. “Alright. Who’s next?”

“I said first,” Sonny replies.

You turn to look at them and see Joe about to open his mouth to say something, no doubt in an attempt to contradict the other man, and then they’re both silenced by Elvis.

“She’s my girl. She’s comin’ to me.”

You settle between Elvis’ legs as he guides your mouth over his dick, holding your hair and bobbing your head on him, gradually helping you take more and more until your nose is buried in his pubic hair and you’re gagging. He holds you there until your throat relaxes, and then starts to thrust. Your eyes water a little, but you can hear the appreciative sounds in the room and they spur you on. Gasping for air when he finally pulls you off again, you sit back on your heels and look up at him, worshipfully.

“Good girl,” he affirms, then looks up. “Who wants her?”

Sonny manages to speak before Joe again, so Elvis instructs you to go to him, on your hands and knees this time. He’s taken your dress off properly, so you’re naked apart from your stockings, and he gives your ass a low whistle as it moves away from him. You eagerly take Sonny all the way in, he’s a little smaller than Elvis so you don’t choke so much when he starts to fuck your throat.

“Oh God. She’s so pretty, EP. So pretty choking on my damn cock.”

Your eyes are watering again and you can tell Sonny likes it. There’s probably mascara running down your cheeks too.

“Please tell me I can fuck her.”

There’s a low growl in the back of Elvis’ throat, something protective that makes you somehow even wetter. “Not yet. Give her to Joe.”

Crawling over to Joe, you’re relieved he’s even smaller again, and taking him is no trouble at all. You’re so engrossed in the blow job that you don’t notice the other guys getting closer, and then suddenly you find yourself on your back in the middle of the room, Elvis pushing inside your pussy and Sonny back in your mouth. Jerry kneels on one side of you, stroking himself as he looks down at your body, and Joe is still where he was, on the sofa.

Elvis’ dick stretches you, making you moan around Sonny, but you’re so wet he slips in and out easily anyway.

“She loves it,” Sonny declares. “Such a pretty little cockslut you’ve got here, E. Such a perfect little whore.”

You moan again around his dick and he slaps your tits.

“Such a good little lovin’ doll,” Elvis coos, holding your thighs as he slams into you.

They keep going in that arrangement for a while, but then after some more complaining from Sonny, shift so that he’s inside you now, and Jerry is in your mouth, his big fat balls slapping against your forehead. Sonny is as sadistic with your pussy as he was with your mouth, jackhammering into you in a way that isn’t exactly pleasurable. After that, Joe comes as a blessed relief. You don’t like him much, and you definitely don’t find him attractive, but he fucks you kind of gently and for a moment or two you don’t have a dick in your mouth and you find yourself moaning and arching your back.

“Is she gonna cum? Joe, you’re makin’ her cum!” Sonny is clearly shocked at the turn of events, and to be honest so are you, but something about the slightly twisted up position he’s got you in is hitting the right spot and Sonny is right, Joe is making you cum.

“Ohhhh. Ohhhhh.” You moan, eyelashes fluttering as your orgasm washes over you.

“Let me go again. I wanna make her squirt. I bet I can make her squirt.”

“No, Sonny,” Elvis’ voice is deep and firm and brooks no argument. “It’s Jerry’s turn. Let him try.”

The angle Jerry was at when he tried to fuck your mouth earlier meant you couldn't fit much in, so you don’t realise quite how big it is until he starts to push inside your pussy. And then you really realise, when you look down and see the bulge it’s making in your stomach, the other guys whooping and cheering about it. Jerry is big enough to hit your g-spot easily, and he’s thick enough to make your head flop back and your eyes close, and you to just generally lose a good portion of your grip on reality.

“She’s cock-drunk.”

“Look at her, Jerry. You’re fucking her stupid.”

“God, she’s perfect,” the hushed, reverential tone is Jerry, and you try to peel your eyes open again to look at him. “Taking me so fucking perfectly.”

You manage something between a moan and a whimper, and then you feel it. Your second orgasm, lurking just beneath the surface, ready to explode. Jerry obviously feels it too, his thumb starting to rub your clit as he picks up speed, fucking you so hard Elvis has to hold you in place by pushing down on your shoulders. You’re sure your guts are going to be completely rearranged by the end of this.

“C’mon Dolly, cum for me. I can feel ya gripping me, honey. You can do it.”

Jerry’s praise tips you over the edge and suddenly you’re screaming and squirting and flailing about on the carpet. You can hear all the men groaning and then you feel yourself suddenly empty, Jerry is cussing and then he’s moaning as you feel something splattering over your chest. Unable to manage to open your eyes again, it seems like you're floating as you feel the next dick inside you, somehow recognising it as Elvis’. More wetness on your belly, and what sounds like Joe moaning out your name.

“I wanna cum on her face.”

You finally manage to open one eye to see Sonny kneeling over you.

“Alright, man.”

“Eyes open, honey. Look at me.”

You do as you’re told, watching as Sonny beats himself off, groaning until cum starts shooting out of his dick, all over your face. You close your eyes again at the crucial moment, but when you reopen them you’re conscious of the wetness beading on your lashes, like raindrops.

“Fuck. You look so pretty with my cum on your eyelashes. Perfect little slut.”

You bat them a little, unable to help yourself trying to look cute even with the state you’re in now. Elvis thrusts inside you a few more times and then pulls out, stroking himself until he cums on your pussy. He groans as he paints you with his release, and you suddenly realise how much of a mess you are, the cum of four men all over you. You bite your lip. You really are a slut. You start to smile, thinking about it, thinking about just how much fun being told what to do was, how much you enjoy switching your brain off and doing what other people want you to.

Elvis kisses your knee, gently. “Thanks, baby,” he whispers. Then he looks up at the other guys, expectantly.

“Yeah, thanks Princess,” Joe joins in, tucking himself away and sitting back up on the sofa. “That felt really good.”

Jerry looks down at you with soft, loving eyes. “Thanks Dolly. You were perfect.”

Sonny coughs and looks a bit awkward, like someone suddenly realising how they’d been acting when they were horny and now feeling kind of embarrassed.

“Thanks honey. Sorry about your um… face.”

You can’t help giggling a little, and you look over at Elvis who nods his approval. You can stop just being an obedient doll now.

“It’s okay, Sonny. I had fun.”

Sonny rubs his face with his hand and nods, still looking awkward, before getting up and mumbling something about going for a drive. Jerry gets up from his kneeling position too, suggesting he and Joe go out and get some dinner for everyone. Joe looks very much like he’s about to say he’d rather just stay right where he is, but Jerry’s head tilting to the left and his eyes widening must finally give the clue that he’s trying to suggest they clear out and give you and Elvis some privacy.

Then it's just the two of you, and he scoops you up in his arms and carries you into the bathroom, helping you into the shower and then getting in with you and cleaning you up. You stand there in shock as he dries you gently with a big fluffy towel, and then swathes you in pyjamas and a robe, waiting as you push your sooties into soft pink slippers.

“Come to my room, Dolly.”

You’re not often allowed in Elvis’ room, it’s his sanctuary, he likes to repair to it when things get too much for him. Even in the LA house it’s much more decadent than the other bedrooms, and it’s darker than yours, all purple and gold. It’s also freezing, and you shiver as soon as you step through the door. He holds you to him for a moment, humming softly as his body heat warms you, and then helps you into his big brass bed. Settling you into the comforters and pillows, he gets in next to you and shows you the controls for the electric blanket.

“Thanks,” you murmur, looking up at him through your normal lashes. Those falsies had gone straight in the trash.

He brushes your cheek with the backs of his fingers and kisses you softly. “Y’okay?”

You nod quickly. “I’m good.” Moving your legs a little, you squint. “Pussy’s a little sore.”

“Mmm.” He kisses you again. “Ya were so good, Dolly. Such a good little girl for me.”

One of your hands rests gently on the back of his neck. “I um… I liked it.” You look down, biting your lip a little. “I shouldn’t, should I?”

His hand moves to your chin, tilting your face up so you have to look at him again. “I’m glad ya liked it,” he murmurs, conspiratorially. “Though I hope ya didn’t like any of the guys more ‘an ya like me…”

Your heart leaps in your chest. You’ve never known him to be this vulnerable. “I could never, Da- Elvis. I love you.”

“I love you too.” His hand envelopes your whole cheek as he pulls you in close for a proper kiss. “My precious, perfect little doll.”

***

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#elvis #elvis presley #elvis fanfiction #elvis fic #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis presley fic #elvis smut #elvis fanfic #elvis presely smut #elvis presley fanfic #elvis imagine #elvis x reader #elvis x y/n #elvis x you #elvis presley x reader #elvis presley x y/n #elvis presley x you

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cheshireliam · 2 days ago

Text

"Growing Feelings Poured Into Chocolate" Collection Event

Liam Evans

This is a fan-made translation solely for entertainment purposes with no guaranteed perfection; expect mistakes, grammatical errors, and some creative liberties. All original content and media used belongs to Cybird. Please support the game by buying their stories and playing their games. Reblogs appreciated.

Read this before interacting

Kate: Nn… haah… Liam…?

The moment I let Liam in when he visited my room, he started kissing me without warning.

Liam: — Be quiet.

He pinned both of my hands above my head, holding them tightly in place so I couldn’t move, and continued his attack on my lips.

(What’s gotten into him…?)

I was struggling to breathe, and yet I couldn't stop him.

Liam looked like he was in more pain than I was, so I accepted his kisses without resistance.

And that went on for who knew how long.

After kissing me for so long that I thought my lips might’ve been swollen, Liam finally released my hands and pulled away.

Kate: Liam… did something happen?

Liam: …

Liam: Kate… do you like pain?

Kate: Huh…?

Liam: If you like pain, I can give you as much pain as you want.

Liam: If you like being bitten, I’ll bite you however much you want… we can even do more dangerous things together.

Liam: … I'll act as kind of man you want me to be, Kate. So please—

Liam: Please… don’t abandon me…

This time, Liam started crying into my chest.

Kate: … Liam. I don’t like pain.

Liam: Really…?

Kate: Yes. Because the person I love doesn’t want to hurt me… I always want to take good care of my body and make sure I don't get hurt.

Kate: Also, you don’t need to act. I love you just the way you are, Liam.

Even though I had told him that countless times before, I firmly reassured him once more.

Liam: Is that really how you feel…? I thought…

Liam: … I- I’m sorry, Kate. Thanks for telling me you love me.

Liam: I love you too. So… let me love you as you are too from now on.

Liam: … Sorry for being violent with my kisses.

Liam gave me a gentle kiss, and the two of us tumbled into bed together.

…

Kate: … Ah!! I almost forgot all about it!!

After a moment of Liam and I affirming our love for each other, something came to my mind and I immediately bolted up while still in his arms.

Liam: Is something the matter?

Kate: Yes. I’ll be right back, Liam.

I got up and brought something from the kitchen back to my room.

Kate: Happy Valentine’s Day, Liam!

Liam: Is this… for me?

I presented Liam with a moderately sweet chocolate cake.

Kate: Yup. I wanted to make something you’d enjoy eating… so I used a special chocolate that’s especially aromatic.

Liam: It really does smell good…

Kate: Fufu. It was hard to obtain, but worth the effort to beg Jude for help.

Liam: Jude? By any chance… did you pick up the chocolates this morning?

Kate: Yes, that’s right… did you happen to see me?

Kate: I tried to make it a surprise by receiving it in secret…

Liam: What… so that’s what it was…

Liam: I saw you smiling so happy when receiving some package from Jude.

Liam: Since it’s Valentine’s Day, I assumed you and Jude might have feelings for each other…

Kate: Eeh!? That’s impossible. I’m fully devoted to you, Liam!

Kate: So that’s why you asked if I liked pain…

Liam: Yeah… I’m sorry for doubting you.

Liam: … It made me insecure knowing you’re such a wonderful person that anyone would admire.

Kate: Then please always voice out whenever you feel that way, I can clear those feelings for you.

Kate: Because my love for you will absolutely never fade.

Liam: Thanks, Kate.

Although it was late at night, the two of us shared the chocolate cake.

Even if our love melts and loses its shape in the heat caused by jealousy, like chocolate, we can always reshape it beautifully.

Because I want to be together with Liam until the end of time.

#ikemen villains #ikemen series #ikevil translations #liam evans #cybird ikemen #cybird otome #otome #ikevil collection event

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peanutpinet · 1 day ago

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Im really loving your sylus x innocent mc stories!! I was wondering what if Innocent Mc is sick or gotten hurt while Sylus is in the middle of a business deal, and when he finds out, he immediately leaves to go take care of mc. 🥺💖

Healer - Sylus x Sick Innocent Fem Reader

A/N: hi anon, thank you for being patient!! I have a lil something for you and for everyone especially with the 3.0 update! I won't spill anything so I hope you all enjoy reading this little fic and thank you for reading!

Disclaimer: I do not own the images nor the characters or you (the MC). All images were taken from Pinterest and credit goes to the image's respective owners.

Warnings: threatening, blood

If Sylus could just kill everyone in the room and be done for the day, he would. But unfortunately, there was nothing that was reasonable enough to do so.

Luke and Kieran told him about “highly” businessman that wanted to make a deal regarding the protocores Sylus had. Saying that he’s willing to invest in the business that Sylus had going around if he were to be given a fraction of Sylus’ protocore collection. Of course, Sylus knew what this man specifically wanted. As much as he wants this to end quickly to get to you, Sylus loves to make his victims pretend that they got the upper hand before he turn the tables.

But the more this meeting drags on, Sylus realised something. You didn’t text him at all today. You just told him that you had to go into town for some errands but that was at 8am while it was already 5pm and there had been none information regarding you for the past 9 hours which is unheard of throughout your relationship with Sylus since the beginning.

Though Sylus already sent the twins and mephisto to look for you, he was still restless. Sylus tries to think of all other more “reasonable” scenarios. Maybe you forgot to bring your charger and your phone died in the middle of the day. Maybe you were at a friend’s place and you left your phone on do not disturb or perhaps…

His thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a bad feeling when he heard the twins chatter loudly when he was at the end of the hall in the meeting room.

Without thinking, Sylus bolted out of the meeting room, immediately telling the business partner he’ll rearrange another meeting. When his business partner was threatening him, Sylus didn’t hesitate to point his gun at them. “Accept my offer to reschedule while I’m being sane unless you want me to expose all of your dirty little secrets to the world? I’m sure with how the taxes to everything increasing, it’s going to be hard to get the materials you need without my help”

Luckily, his business partner held both his hands up in defeat, making Sylus smirked. “Wise decision”. Sylus signalled his other men to handle his business partner and his men while he went to see what happened to you.

Sylus knew that no matter what, Luke and Kieran would always bring you back to your shared bedroom. It was practically a sacred place for the both of you. A safe haven, a place where the two of you can be yourself, took care one another, and spend time to be with each other.

Sylus felt the walk down the hall back to his shared bedroom felt further than usual. Halfway through the hallways, Mephisto perched itself on Sylus’ shoulder, cawing at its owner as if it was trying to give Sylus a heads up.

However, before Mephisto could show Sylus anything, the door to his shared room with you was opened and it revealed Luke and Kieran who looked worried despite the masks they wore. “Boss…” the twins let out a soft sigh of relief seeing Sylus came.

“Care to fill me in on what happened?” Sylus questioned his two most trusted men, knowing that these twins cared for you just as much as he did (Sylus definitely still cared for you the most)

“There was blood, boss” Kieran started, and it sent chills throughout Sylus’ body. “Yeah. We didn’t know how it happened. When you told us to find the miss, we didn’t expect there’d be blood” Luke added on

“She also started moving in a dizzy way” Kieran pointed out “She almost fainted when we brought her back. We don’t know how to help stop the bleeding” Luke added on more and by now Sylus couldn’t take it and barged into the room, leaving the twins in the hallway

“Sweetie?!” Sylus called out to you and hearing your groan, he immediately went to the bed, seeing you bundled under layers of bed covers and blanket “It hurts sy…” you whimpered and Sylus didn’t waste time to get into bed and pulled you to him. “Tell me what happened, where does it hurt? How much blood did you lose?”

Sylus gently stroke your head, kissing your forehead and allowing you to snuggled closer to his large body. “J-just, just like every other month”

It was then Sylus realised what actually happened and immediately checked his phone. Noticing the reminder, Sylus let out an annoyed sigh “Those twins…they almost made me pull my heart out”

“Sy…” you mumbled and Sylus snapped back at your weaken self

“I know sweetie. I know. You lay back down yeah? I’ll have the chef immediately cook you some warm soup and I’ll bring painkillers” Sylus gently laid you back, pulling up the layers of blanket to keep you warm, kissing your forehead again

“Are you angry?” you managed to asked despite your weak state

“You had me worried a bit but I can never be angry at you, sweetie. What happened to your phone though?” Sylus asked

“I forgot to charge it last night and was only 15% left when I went out. M’sorry” you mumbled, trying to sleep while Sylus shook his head, caressing your cheek

“I understand sweetie. You were out of it since last night. I’m sorry I didn’t notice. I’ll help make sure that your phone is always charged but for now, you try to rest a bit more while I get you some warm soup and painkillers along with your favorite sweets then I’ll cuddle you until you’re better”

Sylus placed one last gentle kiss on your forehead before leaving the room to get the things he said he would get.

“So?! Did you manage to stop the bleeding boss?” Luke asked

“If he looked calmer now, everything must be okay with the miss, right?” Kieran asked as well

Sylus stopped in his tracks before giving the twins a side glare. “You two, my office now. Once I’m back, I’ll make sure the two of you are educated and understand the human anatomy of a woman and her struggles of bleeding every single month”

The twins had never seen their boss looked so serious and menacing towards them which meant they had made a grave mistake. “W-what do you mean boss?” the twins asked as Sylus turned around, his aether core was practically glowing a crimson red colour. “She was on her damn period yet the two of you made it sound like she was bleeding to death! I swear if any of you give me this kind of heart attack again, I’ll have to start cutting your allowances”

The twins rushed to Sylus’ office in fear and started to look up about period, educating themselves everything about it while Sylus took care of you. It’s safe to say that by the next crack of dawn, the twins would understand more about periods and how they could help you if it happened again when Sylus wasn’t around.

A/N: yup, was about periods LMAO

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vettelsvee · 6 hours ago

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hiii!! 2 with oscar please?😭

YOU WANT THAT BOOK? I'LL BUY YOU THE WHOLE SERIES | Oscar Piastri

Oscar Piastri x Girlfriend!Reader

SUMMARY: Oscar takes you to a bookstore and, after he sees you fingerling over a saga, he decides to buy it for you (without knowing it was about fictional versions of Formula 1 drivers) ↳ REQUESTED: Part of VEE'S F1 PROMPTS LIST (VOL. I)! Feel free to request anything you want <3 Hope you liked it anon! 💖

WORD COUNT: 1891

WARNINGS: Brief mention of drugs, mentions to Dirty Air saga (spoiler free) with not much knowledge about it

VEE'S NOTES: Was I expecting posting a fic today? No. Did I have to write something to distress after the pretty bad exam I made today? Yes! Now writing this and thinking about Teacher!Seb fics has made me feel in a better mood (ngl I'm pretty disappointed with myself). Anyways, hope you like today's fic and remember that, if you did, feel free to comment me your thoughts and, also, reblog as it helps me a lot! Thank you so much for reading <3 ↳ MAKE YOUR REQUESTS | TALK TO ME! | FORMULA 1 MASTERLIST

The moment you crossed the doors of the bookstore, you felt like you were at home.

Maybe it was the scent of vanilla and coffee, or perhaps the instrumental music playing softly, just like the one you were used to listen to at home in the afternoons while spending hours lost in a book and its story. You were so excited that you gripped Oscar’s hand tightly, your heart pounding faster than usual at the movie-like moment you were living.

"Alright…" Oscar began, his gaze wandering in every direction, completely absorbed by the towering bookshelves surrounding you both. "I’ve taken you to a bookstore, so I think my job here is officially done."

You stared at him in disbelief before rolling your eyes.

"Osc, you don’t just take your girlfriend to a bookstore. You stay with her the whole time to live the experience, you know… that whole reader's boyfriend thing."

Now it was Oscar’s turn to roll his eyes, though he couldn’t help but smile as you spun around and rushed toward a nearby table. Despite having little to no interest in reading, unless it involved race reports or it was Mark Webber’s biography, he loved the passion you had for books. Though, much to your dismay, he had never actually finished any of your recommendations even you insisted on him a lot.

"Yeah, okay, sure. You lead the way, Mrs. Bookworm…"

You weren’t listening. Instead, you were completely lost, eyes darting from one book to another, unable to stand still from sheer excitement. The overwhelming number of stories in front of you didn’t help either.

Then, it happened. The moment you spotted the book you had been searching for longer than you cared to admit, you let out a small squeal. Oscar jumped at the sudden sound, hurrying over to you only to find you clutching a red book, turning it over in your hands, inhaling its scent like it was some rare artifact.

"Oh… my… god…" you whispered.

Oscar glanced at the cover. Throttled. His eyes flickered to the camera and polaroids, especially the one in the center, which showed a red car eerily similar to the one Charles had driven a few years back when he first joined Ferrari.

"Oh…" Oscar muttered as realization hit him. "So it’s a Formula 1 book…"

Do Formula 1 romantic books exist?, thought Oscar, a bit in disbelief.

You turned to him, shoving the book in his face.

"It’s not just a Formula 1 book! It’s THE Formula 1 book! Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted it for?"

"Since before we started dating, or after?" he teased, smirking. "You’re dating an actual Formula 1 driver, and here you are, thrilled to read a love story about one."

"Noah Slade is different. Very different, actually."

"Oh, so I guess this Noah guy is gonna replace me now, huh?" Oscar feigned offense.

"Well… I like you more. A lot more. And… I don’t know… you’re you. No one could ever compare, so…"

It wasn’t just you who turned red. Oscar did too, lowering his gaze while you pretended to read the book, using the pages as a shield to hide just how flustered you were.

This wasn’t how you had imagined telling Oscar you loved him for the first time.

"Well…" you tried to speak, clearing your throat, but Oscar cut in.

"Are you getting it?"

You opened your mouth but hesitated. It was a limited edition, and also very expensive. If you bought this one, you’d have to get the rest of the series too, but you were broke because, of course, you had impulsively bought five books just last week.

"Uh… I don’t know…" you murmured.

He studied your face for a few seconds, and without thinking too much about it, he stepped closer and grabbed the book from you.

“What are you doing?”

“Buying it for you,” he said casually as he walked toward the checkout.

“Oscar, don’t you dare!” you shouted, rushing after him and snatching the book from his hands to put it back on the shelf. “You don’t have to—”

“You want that book?” he asked. You nodded timidly. “I’ll buy you the whole series.”

You stumbled, nearly falling as you tried to stop Oscar from grabbing Collided, Wrecked, and Redeemed.

“Oscar, you can’t just buy me an entire series just because…” you whispered, trying to keep up with his hurried steps.

“Oh, no? And why not?”

“Because… Because…” You opened and closed your mouth, struggling to find a reasonable enough answer to make him stop. “Because… It's too much money, Osc, that’s not right!”

Oscar laughed. You knew perfectly well that your boyfriend was a millionaire, and even though he was very careful with his money and his expenses, buying four books wasn’t much of an expense for him the way it was for you.

“Besides, you already spend so much time around the Formula 1 world. I don’t think it’s necessary for you to spend even more time listening to me obsess over fictional drivers and talk about them nonstop.”

“Don’t worry, love, I’ll be more than happy to hear you ramble about those cheap copies of us,” Oscar scoffed, smiling at the cashier as he handed over the books.

“You’re impossible,” you muttered, giving up as the woman started scanning the books.

“And yet you love me…”

Your face burned instantly. Not knowing how to respond, you focused on watching Oscar swipe his card and chat briefly with the cashier about you, his girlfriend, before taking the paper bag with the books inside.

“Boys nowadays should be more like you, son,” the woman commented to Oscar, beaming. Then she turned to you. “And you, sunshine, enjoy your books and your wonderful boyfriend as well!”

You nodded shyly. Oscar bid the woman goodbye and headed for the exit, holding the bag in one hand while placing the other on your back, guiding you outside before wrapping an arm around your waist.

You couldn’t stop wondering what you had done to deserve such a thoughtful and attentive boyfriend like Oscar.

“So, I guess now you’re going to try to make me read this series… Dirty Air, am I right?”

“Oh, absolutely,” you said, finally looking at him and pushing aside that lingering shyness, the feeling that you didn’t deserve such a gift. “I’m convinced you’re going to fall in love with Santiago Alatorre.”

“Santiago Alatorre?” Oscar repeated, curious. “Wait, wait… Are these characters, like… completely fictional? Or are they based on any of us?”

You chuckled softly, carefully taking the bag from Oscar because you were excited to carry it yourself.

“Well…”

“Oh, come on. Don’t act like you don’t know, because that’s already an answer in itself.”

You bit your lip, unsure whether to tell him the truth. It was obvious, really, but you felt… weird about him discovering the fantasies the author had written based on some of them, and moreover the fandom surrounding those stories.

“Okay, fine…” you sighed, giving in. “Yeah, some of them are based on you guys.”

“And?”

Oscar raised an eyebrow, though he wasn’t sure if he actually wanted to know more about what was written about them.

“What do you mean and?”

“Who each of us is who. If there are supposedly four main characters…”

“Oh, yeah, about that…” You played with your hands, mentally trying to stay calm and not go into full fangirl mode, like you always did whenever Oscar talked about something that excited him. “So… Noah is supposed to be Charles, at least physically and in terms of teammates… but his personality and life are much more like Max’s. You know, toxic father and all that…”

“So, this Noah guy is a menace? Like Max back during the 2023 season?”

“No, no! I guess he’s… ambitious, let’s say.”

“And the others?”

“Liam, the one from the second book, is a bit complicated,” you commented. “People see him as Pierre, and some others as Mick, but to me, since he’s German, he’s kinda like Nico Rosberg mixed with Seb’s personality from his Red Bull years… or at least the way teenage girls see him, like a playboy type. I think you’re too sure what I’m talking about”

“And not just teenage girls I must say,” Oscar added.

“Then there’s Jax, who is one hundred percent Lewis,” you continued. “Jax is Liam’s teammate, so it makes sense, you know… what I explained to you earlier.”

Oscar nodded, understanding very little but happy to see you so excited.

“And the last one, Santiago, the one I mentioned before, is Carlos,” you blurted out with a growing smile. “He’s Spanish and Charles’... I mean, Noah's teammate! And, well… they say he’s really cute, so I hope to read the first three books as quickly as possible to get to his.”

“I’m starting to think that, from the way you talk about him, he’s going to become your newest addition to you not so short fictional crushes list,” Piastri laughed.

“Oh, absolutely. You know I have a thing for the good guys, and according to the TikToks I’ve watched, Santi is exactly that.”

“I can’t believe you’re fantasizing over fictional versions of my rivals,” Oscar said, tilting his head as he laughed.

“Don’t be dramatic, Osc. Why do you think I like Santi so much from what I’ve seen? Because he’s supposed to be as much of a sweetheart as you!” you exclaimed. “But I promise that no matter how much I talk about these guys after tonight, once I start the first book, it’ll just be some kind of substitute for you or whatever ridiculous thing you’re imagining.”

“You know what?” You tilted your head. “I think you should write one of those Formula 1 romance books based on our story.”

Your eyes widened in shock, unable to believe what your boyfriend had just said.

“Excuse me?”

“I mean it. You should do it,” Piastri shrugged. “I know how much you love writing, and seeing how happy these books make you… Plus, I’m curious to see what kind of terrible personality you’d give me. You could make me the typical egotistical guy who constantly gets into PR trouble for, I don’t know, smoking weed? Like what happened with Zayn and Louis from One Direction. You told me about that once, right?”

You bit your lip, trying to hold back your laughter and look serious, but it was impossible.

“Bold of you to assume I’m not already writing a fanfic about us and posting it on Tumblr.”

Oscar’s jaw dropped.

“What?”

You laughed again.

“No, Y/N, that’s not funny. You’re joking, right? Tell me you’re joking…”

“Do you really think I am?” you teased, raising an eyebrow, feeling quite pleased that you had finally confessed one of your best-kept secrets, one you had been dying to tell him even you felt a bit ashamed.

Oscar stared at you, his mind struggling to process the information.

Were people actually reading a story about his life, possibly with real details, and thinking it was completely fictional?

“What exactly are you writing about… us, Y/N?”

You just giggled, took his hand, interlaced your fingers with his, and kept walking.

“I don’t know. I guess you’ll have to check out jellyastri81 on Tumblr and find out for yourself.”

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king571 · 3 days ago

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Arcane Analysis: Season 2 Episode 8

The Symbolism behind the famous Jail Cell and how Jinx, Caitlyn and Vi “break the cycle."

Hi all, this is a long post, so thank you everyone in advance for taking the time to read this. Over the past few weeks, I have seen many well done analyses for the love scene between Caitlyn and Vi. I am not here to break down that again, but I would like to focus on the events that lead up to that and the symbolism behind Silco’s speech and the famous jail cell.

Before I get into my humble analysis, I would like to emphasize that Arcane is an artistic piece of media that constantly makes these bold and unexpected creative decisions to communicate something deeper in its story, whether this is through character designs, their actions, animation, or the music. And symbolism is part of that. It is a storytelling device that connects characters and plot points for us to see a larger theme. Not everything in Arcane is meant to “make sense” to you in the way you expect; it’s meant to “intrigue” you, to push you to ask questions and find the answers yourself. That’s part of the process of analyzing and understanding the media. Therefore, most of the “criticisms” made for this episode do not seem constructive to me, as it destroys the essence of the artistic storytelling of this show by applying some personal logic, morals, and expectations on these characters. The love scene between Caitlyn and Vi did not “come out of nowhere.” It was thought through for the story the writers wanted to tell and well-animated. Whatever you felt about this scene personally simply does not change these facts from the professional media perspective. After that little rambling, let’s get into the real deal:

Recap:

Although I believe the symbolisms that I am going to explore in this post may apply to the other characters of Arcane since they are the main themes of the show, I will solely focus on what they mean to Jinx, Caitlyn, and Vi. Therefore, I will only focus on the set of events that happen around these characters.

Episode 8 kicks off with Vi waking up from her recovery and going straight to Caitlyn to confront her about Jinx. Their argument is centered around their lack of trust in each other, something that they built in season 1 and lost in the following events. Those of you who think Vi does not hold Caitlyn accountable simply need to rewatch, I do not know what to tell you. Vi lets her anger out on Caitlyn in this scene and corners her because of her alliance with Ambessa. She gets a powerful reaction from her: “I KNOW!”.

This delivery portrays Caitlyn’s anger with herself. She continues by explaining that Jinx was the one who surrendered, and Caitlyn didn’t know what to do. She was simply waiting for Vi to recover. These are the footsteps that show her growing willingness to listen and allow Vi to take the lead. Caitlyn’s response calms Vi down, and Vi shares that Jinx has changed. Caitlyn’s reply essentially says that even though Vi might be right, it doesn’t matter. What's done is done: "We can't erase our mistakes, none of us,". She includes herself in this, aware of her own faults. In contrast, Vi responds by asking, “Who decides who gets a second chance?”

This exchange is important because it illustrates their different perspectives on forgiveness. Caitlyn thinks that no matter what they do, they cannot fix their mistakes. Vi, on the other hand, believes in second chances and believes that Jinx has changed. Yes, this is such a Vi thing to believe and say. We leave the scene with Caitlyn contemplating that. Vi’s insistence on seeing the good in people she loves is important for Caitlyn to move forward.

After her conversation with Vi, Caitlyn makes her way down to face another confrontation. At this point, it's important to remember that both Jinx's and Caitlyn’s perspective on each other has shifted after episode 6. Jinx saw how Caitlyn betrayed Ambessa to help save Vander and Vi. Caitlyn saw how Jinx acted around Isha and her family. Their small reunion before the chaos ensued humanized Jinx in Caitlyn’s eyes. This is why instead of taking actions against her, she decides to wait for Vi to recover.

The way Caitlyn and Jinx address each other in this conversation shows that they see each other as equals now ("Both you and I know…") and they are aware of the destructive paths they took (No amount of good deeds can undo our crimes). They are both honest with each other. The scene ends with Caitlyn admitting to the person she has been desperately trying to catch that she hated herself for everything she did, showcasing her vulnerability, remorse, and regret. Jinx replies with the only thing she knows, that she did not know her mother was there when she attacked the council. It was not personal; it was not her intention. It is not a "sorry", but the only thing that she can share with her to make her understand the situation. The zoomed frame on Caitlyn’s ear shows me that Caitlyn does not only hear her but also listens to her with attention. This exchange is not for them to build any kind of relationship, but it is enough for them to let each other go. Caitlyn walks away and starts the process of breaking the cycle for all of them.

Now let’s get to the real stuff.

Jinx and Silco:

There are two important monologues in this season that really summarize the whole concept of Arcane for me. The first one is Viktor’s speech about humanity and human emotions being two sides of the same coin. And the second one will be this scene. Silco reminds us about 'the cycle of violence.' It is so interesting that there is an element of hallucination in this scene but Jinx is not manic or fully psychotic here. In fact, she is more aware than ever, which makes her suicidal thoughts more dangerous and real than ever as well. The speech that Silco gives her is both symbolic to her and symbolic to the viewers. After Caitlyn’s visit, she is stuck in her head about what is next, and it's so normal that her thoughts come to her in the shape of Silco, her adoptive father. The only person that guided her as Jinx and supported her during her path to destruction. Let’s remind ourselves of the conversation and break it down:

Silco: Oh, it's a hell of a place. It says something about the late Marcus that he found imprisoning your sister to be a greater mercy than killing her.

Jinx: Killing isn't mercy.

For Silco, killing and violence were always justified as long as it had a “good” cause and purpose, they were necessary for him. Jinx finally goes against that mindset that says no killing is not a merciful act. Nothing “good” comes out of it.

Silco chuckles: A spark of rebellion still burns inside that husk, I see. No. Killing is a cycle. One that started long before Vander and me. And it will continue long after the two of you.

Jinx: I'm done running in circles.

Just like Caitlyn, Jinx does not have the will or energy to keep contributing to this cycle anymore. Once again in this conversation she is turning her back to it.

We build our own prisons. Bars forged of oaths, codes, commitments. Walls of self-doubt and accepted limitations. We inhabit these cells, these identities, and call them "us." I thought I could break free by eliminating those I deemed my jailors. But... Jinx... I think the cycle only ends when you find the will to walk away.

This is the symbolism that I will be paying attention to later. But for now, let’s look at it for Jinx. Similar to Silco, Jinx’s method of coping with her walls of trauma and self-doubt was unleashing violence on the ones who she deemed as her jailors. Vi, Caitlyn, the topside.. And after all that destruction, she gained nothing from it and all of that violence just contributed to more violence. She finally comes to the realization that in order to make a change, she has to break the cycle and walk away.

Unfortunately, in this state of mind Jinx sees herself and her existence equal to “violence” and “destruction”. I don't think Jinx wants to die particularly, but she has been ready to die this season because she thinks she needs to.. to stop the violence and suffering, to break the cycle. There is a difference between her wanting to die and simply thinking she needs to. It is a very difficult mindset to get out of on your own. That’s why I believe Ekko’s role will be important for her later. I know that it is not confirmed whether she is alive or not at the end of the show, but if she is, this also explains why she fakes her death. She still has a will to live but she wants to remove her existence from Piltover, break the cycle, and also let Vi be happy.

Jinx’s dialogue with Silco ends with Vi’s entrance to the scene. I love Vi, but she has never been good with connecting and understanding Jinx’s mental state (not her fault obviously). Her point about Jinx using all her potential to be good, makes Jinx realize that no matter what she does, Vi will continue to love her and see the “good” in her.

Except.. Jinx does not think there is any good in her, she knows that letting Vi stick with her will only lead her to unhappiness. Knowing that Vi cannot give up on her by herself, she locks her in the cell and tells her explicitly that she deserves to be with Caitlyn. The sisters' dynamic has been shifting this season ever since Vi saw her with Isha. Remember what Vi said to her in the mines: 'Why did you come get me? You actually don’t need my help. You haven’t for a long time.' Vi knows that Jinx is a grown up now and can take care of herself. During their time in Viktor's commute, Vi has started to see Jinx as more like an equal and asked for her input from time to time. Jinx simply knows that Vi would never leave her if she does not lock her up.

Their dynamic flips this season from Vi being the protector of her to Jinx being the protector of Vi and her happiness (as we see and compare the intros of both seasons as well.) And that's change and growth, people. Therefore, anybody saying that Vi should have followed Jinx, they just want to continue Vi’s role as a sacrificial sister and have everything continue to revolve around Jinx. It is a bad faith comment for this story and ruins their character arcs. Jinx does break the cycle here, removes herself from Vi’s life to pave the way for her happiness.

Although this scene between the sisters is important for us viewers, what it really does to Vi is put her back into a spiral. No, she does not know Jinx is going to try to take her life (another bad faith comment), she thinks Jinx left her again, that she made the wrong choice, and now she is going to lose Caitlyn again, too. She deals with her frustration of being trapped again (both mentally and physically) with her punches. And that is the state Caitlyn finds her.

Caitlyn and Vi and the Jail Cell:

Let’s rewind back to understand the symbolism of what Silco said and what that means to our characters.

“ We build our own prisons. Bars forged of oaths, codes, commitments. Walls of self-doubt and accepted limitations. We inhabit these cells, these identities, and call them ‘us.’ ”

So what is Caitlyn’s prison?

We see the cycle of violence taking shape in the context of the two cities, but we also see it in character dynamics with Jinx and Caitlyn. Jinx spent the entirety of season 1 suffering from attacks on her, ended up losing her mom to this violence, and then took a similar path down and contributed to the cycle of violence herself. Caitlyn’s prison is her hate and vengeance. Her identity as a Kiramman, the expectations and responsibilities she carries by that name. Her sense of justice.

How does she break the cycle:

Caitlyn’s will to break free from her entrapment is both Vi and herself. She abandons her strict sense of justice she had built in her mind, choosing to see the bigger picture and her mistakes. She finally finds the strength to forgive Jinx and shifts all the guards to the Hexgates, clearing the path for Vi to free her. Aware that she may never see Vi again, she lets them go. Like Jinx, this is a selfless act, driven by the belief that it is the right thing to do and that it will make Vi happy. In the final episode, I believe Caitlyn stops being the Kiramman that everyone expected her to be and becomes the person she truly wants to be. Caitlyn and Jinx’s breaking the cycle moment mirror each other. While Jinx locks Vi up to stop it, Caitlyn frees her both physically and mentally.

What is Vi’s prison?

It's her responsibility to her family. She is stuck between her loved ones, Jinx and Caitlyn, and failing to choose one over the other. Her self-blame for making the wrong choice all the time. Her lack of self-love and always prioritizing what others need from her.

How does she break the cycle:

Vi breaks the cycle by doing the opposite of what she has been doing and makes a choice for herself. She has had enough. I LOVE how Caitlyn walks into the cell and literally joins her in her spiral, revealing that she let all of this happen because she sees her now, she knows her heart, and accepts her for who she is (“sorry to say, you have grown a bit predictable”). For the first time, someone joins Vi in this fight and stands by her unconditionally. She feels unburdened, free, and encouraged. She is overwhelmed by her emotions that she kisses Caitlyn and decides to be with her. I don't care what everybody else thinks, but this act from Caitlyn and what it means to Vi is much better than a cheap “sorry”. After holding back for such a long time, this is an impulsive “screw this” moment for Vi. She wants to leave the past behind, her imprisonment, and move on. She says it herself with the “I don't f*cking care” line. And Caitlyn, being receptive, gently lets Vi take the lead and have whatever she wants.

Making love in that cell, their joy, happiness, and giggles create a juxtaposition to all the messed up stuff that they had been through and reflect their state of mind. They are rewriting their story. From a psychological perspective, it still makes sense as there are techniques similar to that to work on your traumas. But Arcane is an art piece, the creators are not here to scientifically prove something or break down how to overcome trauma with realistic therapy sessions. They are here to tell us a story, and they are doing exactly that.

This is why this scene shows and symbolizes the culmination of Caitlyn and Vi character arcs. They are coming full circle at the place they met. This scene shows two lovers “breaking free” from their prisons and running to each other. Finally choosing each other although they don't add up on paper. Running away from their personal worlds and commitments to be together. I do not know what is more romantic than that. This is a story that I will cherish forever.

If you have read this far, thanks again. It means a lot. If you have any questions, drop down below. I am happy to discuss it. (Excluding haters and antis, I don't tolerate them anymore.) Also, thanks to my best friend who helped me co-write this. She is a psychologist working in the field. Her specialty is forensic psychology, and her experience really makes her a great source to analyze a complex character like Jinx. A lot of you and your analyses encouraged me to put this out here, so thanks for that too. Arcane means a lot to me, especially season 2. And I will never, ever stop loving or talking about it.

#arcane #caitvi #vi #caitlyn kiramman #vi arcane #arcane caitlyn #piltover's finest #arcane jinx #arcane silco

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lavylesby · 2 days ago

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Family Reunion

hey guys! ^^ I officially have an AO3 account! :D so here's my first story (I'll be posting it here and on AO3):

Family Reunion

Author's Notes: There are two users on Tumblr, @akiiame and @coffeecat1983, who came up with the idea that Sonic is Mario and Luigi's pet. @akiiame made an adorable drawing, and @coffeecat1983 took it and ran with it as a fanfic. I would like to expand on this, as this is my first ever story on AO3, and I think it's an absolutely wonderful concept. Thank you reading my first story, and please don't hesitate to give me constructive criticism! Now then, onward and upward! ^^

"Hrrmgph." "Soonik." "Why does he keep making that sound?" Luigi laughed. He joyfully tossed the little hedgehog another treat, and continued chuckling at his hungry enthusiasm. Sonic. That's a perfect name, Mario thought. But where the heck did he even come from? And why is he blue? "Hey, Lu?" Luigi's ears perked up at his brother's tone. There was a slight hint of concern. "What's wrong, Mar?" he asked. "You don't think we could get in trouble, do you?" Mario replied. Luigi turned in his chair, being mindful of his cast. "Trouble for what? Clearly nobody was caring for 'im. You didn't know he'd show up at work." He got up and hugged his older sibling, who sighed. "We ain't do nothing wrong, bro," Luigi assured him. "If you want, we can take Sonic to the vet tomorrow and get 'im checked out." Mario gently squeezed his little brother. "OK. I guess it'll be alright." He turned to see the bright blue ball, eagerly snorting for more treats. "You gonna be spoiled, boy," Mario giggled. He scooped Sonic into his hands and hand-fed him one last treat. The little hedgehog must've realized this would be the end of his snacks, and he squealed in protest. "MMRRPGH!!" "SOOOOONIK!!" Luigi collapsed into laughter. "No more treats!" Mario chided him lovingly. "It's time for you to rest, buddy."

A few hours and a few helpings of Ma's lasagna later, Mario finished building and decorating Sonic's new home. Luigi chipped in where he could, even giving the rodent one of his favorite stuffed toys. Now, Sonic was fast asleep in his brand new, ultra fluffy bed, with all but his inquisitive snout being covered by a delicate blanket. Luigi was fascinated by the creature. He quietly hummed an Italian lullaby to help him sleep. Mario joined him later, and when the song ended, the bros embraced, and the older kissed the younger's cheeks. "How's your leg?" Mario asked gently. "It's just a dull pain right now," Luigi said. "I've got my meds, so I think I'll get a good night's sleep for once." Unfortunately, the pain from his injury had given him a nearly sleepless week. Luckily, he was stuck at home most days, so he could take naps when he had the chance. Luigi gingerly stood up and kissed his brother's forehead. "I'll be fine, fratellone," he murmured. "C'mon, let's go to bed." Mario took one last peek at his new pal. "G'night, Sonic," he whispered. As if responding, the spiky rodent let out a gentle, hushed grumble. The bros smiled at each other, happy to be hedgehog parents.

Sound asleep, Luigi snored peacefully. Despite being unconscious, he knew he was warm, comfortable, and safe, and his brother was at his side. Or was he? Luigi's brain prompted him to wake up. He realized that Mario was standing over him, having recently kissed his nose. "Mar?" he asked groggily. "Why are you up at 4 AM…?" "Spike called," he whispered. "I gotta come in, he said there's something I need to see." "Can't it wait until morning?" Luigi complained. "I dunno, he sounded pretty worried," Mario replied. "Y'know he never gets worried about anything." He grabbed his toolbox and ruffled Luigi's hair. "I made you some breakfast, you can heat it up when you're ready. Marty will come by to look at Sonic later," he said, Marty being the vet. Luigi mmphed a response. Mario shut the bedroom door behind him, and Luigi prepared to go back to the murkiness of sleep… …until Mario shouted. Quick, thudding footsteps made their way back to the bedroom. The door swung open. "Where's Sonic?!" Mario demanded. "Huh?? What do you mean?" Luigi said, still slightly confused. Perhaps he was dreaming. "He should still be in his cage…right?" "He's gone!" "Gone?? How?!" "The latch is wide open, and there's a hole in the front door!" Luigi was wide awake now. He ignored his leg pain and hurriedly began to dress. "I'm coming with you." "Lu, you need to stay!" "If Spike is worried, and you found Sonic at work, there's a good chance he went there and we'll find out what's going on. I have my crutches." Mario sighed. Despite his timid tendencies, he knew that once Luigi set his mind on something, there was no convincing him otherwise. "Well, c'mon then." The bros locked arms to aid Luigi, leaving their damaged door to be resolved later.

"Oh, thank God you're here!" Spike ran from the construction site to greet the bros. "Hey Luigi, whatta you doin' here? Thought you was patching up?" "I am," he said. "But Sonic is missing." "Eh, Sonic?" Spike paused for a moment. "Oh, the blue rat thing! Well, he ain't missing no more." Spike stepped aside, and to the bros' surprise, Sonic was standing right behind him. The so-called "blue rat thing" ran up to Mario and nuzzled his leg. "Boy, what is you doin'???" Mario exclaimed. "The sun ain't even out yet!" But before he could grab his strange companion, Sonic dashed off again, and motioned to the wrecking crew to follow him. "I couldn't sleep, so I came here to assess what our next step would be," Spike said. "All of a sudden the rat comes along and just would not stop squeaking! And he's so fast!" "Well, that would explain the door," Luigi chuckled. "But he would have to be REALLY fast to break it." "Yeah…" Mario agreed absentmindedly. His concern grew with every step he took to follow Sonic. Eventually, the group stopped at what appeared to be a nest. Sonic slowed down, and turned to face his humans. But before they could ask questions, Sonic turned back around and began uttering a low call. "ruuuuuuIMPH." "ruuuuuuuuuu…ruuuuuuuuIMPH." Mario, Luigi, and Spike shared hasty glances. They had no idea what was happening. "Tooooils…" "NuuuuuuuKLS…" "Soooodooow…" "Mimimimi…" The rodent continued repeating these calls, and to everyone's shock, several small creatures emerged from the makeshift nest. Mario was stunned. "Are-are…are those more hedgehogs???" Luigi gasped. "Look, one of 'em's got 2 tails!" Spike shouted. Sonic ran over to what could only be his family, his quills quivering joyfully. The creatures exchanged grunts, nuzzles, and rubs. Sonic turned once more, and you could almost make out a smile on his face in the early morning light. Mario managed to snap back to reality, and his heart filled with warmth. He knelt down to pet his blue baby. "Is this your family, buddy?" he asked. Sonic squeaked in response, and Mario caressed his ears. "Well, they can come with us." "They can??" Luigi gasped once more. Mario grabbed the two-tailed creature, who grunted gratefully. "Yeah…we can share them with Peach and the others, and they can meet each other sometimes." Spike was absolutely speechless. He just stared off as the bros scooped the petite animals and left. He heard a small bit of their fading conversation. "…Is Marty open now…?" "Yeah I guess we can…" "…Tails? That's awes…!" "I'm pretty sure he…"

-------------------

Thanks for reading! ^^ Can't wait to get started on AO3. Once again @akiiame @coffeecat1983 thanks for the idea! :D

#mario #sonic #mario bros #mario fanfic #lavylesby #violet's stories #akiiame #coffeecat1983 #ao3 #sth #sonic the hedgehog

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buckysouvenir · 2 days ago

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call it what you want

pairing: bucky barnes x y/n authors note: day tree!

the valentine’s day collection 2025: for the first 14 days of february, i’ll be posting a series of short stories inspired by songs, all centered around bucky barnes.

reblogs, likes and comments are always encouraged and highly appreciated! thank you ♡

The world was quiet for once, but Bucky’s mind was anything but.

The Winter Soldier. Hydra’s weapon. A killer. They had a picture of him so dark, even he had a hard time believing there was anything else left.

So, he disappeared. For months, nobody heard from him. Not Steve. Not Sam. He needed the silence more than he needed air. He needed to figure out who he was without the ghosts of the past clawing at him, dragging him back into the dark.

But then, there was her.

Y/N walked into my life when I wasn’t even looking. She wasn’t afraid of me like so many others were. She didn’t flinch at the sight of my metal arm, didn’t hesitate to stand by me when I thought I didn’t deserve anyone’s kindness.

She saw me. The real me.

I don’t know how she does it, but when Y/N looks at me, it’s like the weight of the world lifts off my shoulders. She makes me forget the noise—the whispers of those who doubt me, the accusations, the labels. All the liars fade into nothing when I look at her.

And she’s beautiful. God, she’s beautiful. She’s got this way about her, like she doesn’t even realize how much light she brings into a room. She’s fit like a daydream, moving through life with a kind of quiet strength that leaves me breathless.

Sometimes, I catch myself staring. It’s not just her smile or the way her eyes light up when she’s excited. It’s the little things—how her lips twitch when she’s trying not to laugh, or how she tilts her head when she’s listening to someone talk.

And she loves me. Not in the way people love an idea of someone, but the real me. She loves me like I’m someone brand new.

I don’t deserve her. I know that. I’ve made the same mistakes over and over, burned bridges I didn’t even try to fix. And maybe I’ll never learn, but at least I did one thing right: her.

One night, we were sitting by the fire. The compound was quiet for once, the kind of peaceful stillness I rarely experienced. She was leaning against my side, her hand brushing mine, and the words just slipped out before I could stop them.

“Would you run away with me?”

I wasn’t sure why I said it. Maybe it was because, for the first time in forever, I felt like I could breathe around her. Maybe it was because I didn’t want to share her with the rest of the world.

She turned to look at me, her eyes wide, searching my face for something. And then she smiled, this soft, radiant smile that made my chest ache.

“Wherever you go,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper, “I’ll follow.”

When you first met Bucky Barnes, you didn’t know what to expect. He was quiet, his head always down, like the weight of the world was pressing down on him. He moved like he didn’t want anyone to notice him, but you did.

You saw him.

He had this way of making himself small, like he thought he didn’t deserve to take up space. But when he looked up, when those stormy blue eyes met mine, something shifted.

He’s the kind of person who hides his heart, but when he trusts you, it’s like being let into a secret. And somehow, you became the person he walked to.

Bucky isn’t what the world thinks he is. He’s kind, in ways people don’t notice. Like the way he remembers the little things—how you take my coffee, which books you like to read, even the songs you hum under my breath.

One night, when the compound’s heating system failed during a snowstorm, he built a fire just to keep you warm. He sat there for hours, feeding the flames, making sure you wouldn’t shiver.

It wasn’t just the fire, though. It was him. Always showing up, always caring in ways he didn’t think anyone noticed.

You started wearing his initial around your neck not long after that. A small silver chain with a simple charm. It wasn’t because he owned you or anything like that—it was because he knew you. Really knew you.

Bucky saw through all the walls you’d built around yourself. He saw the parts of you kept hidden, the pieces you thought no one would ever want. And he stayed.

One night, you sat by the fire again, the same warmth wrapping around you. He looked at you with an intensity that made your breath catch.

“Would you run away with me?” he asked, his voice low, almost hesitant.

Your heart clenched at the vulnerability in his words. He didn’t ask because he thought you needed saving or because he wanted to escape. He asked because, for the first time, he felt like we could have something that was just yours.

“Wherever you go,” you whispered, “I’ll follow.”

#taglist: @cjand10

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fluff #bucky.txt #bê.txt #bucky barnes drabble #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n

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spideyanakin · 2 days ago

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summary - sirius black x malfoy + slytherin! reader, ever since regulus drowned, you keep dreaming about him, but what if your dreams weren't just dreams? aka: we are saving regulus

warnings - angsty, near death experience but ends well, dumbledore being an icon

part of all I think about now - masterlist

read the part right before

"Let me offer you a cup of tea," Albus broke the silence.

Your breath was still held as you watched the pieces of the shattered locket, mixed with the shards of heavy wood from the desk bellow. With a flick of his wand, Dumbledore restored the desk that had shattered with your blow.

You watched, almost as if you were having an out of body experience as he was poured you the tea, and you sat on the homely couch by the fire place.

You found it impossible to have a sip of the warm liquid inside the flowery porcelain cup. Your hand was shaking.

Maybe what had happened was actually sinking. Your chest felt warm, heart beating loudly and pumping blood in places you did not know you could actually feel.

Would he know? Would the dark lord sense that a Horcrux had been destroyed? Would he know by whose hand the object had been shattered?

And suddenly, a look received from Dumbledore melted all the worries from you.

No. He couldn't know. You couldn't let doubt sink in. Not now, not when you were a step closer to ending this once and for all.

Dumbledore needed you, and if this meant continuing to put yourself in danger, to continue living a double life to save thousands; then you would.

So you breathed, smoothed down the rumbling of your bones, and smiled back at him the best way you could.

Something itched in the back of your throat though, and suddenly you found yourself speaking before you could stop it.

"Albus," You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, placing your steaming cup of tea back on the table in front of you. "Ever since my husband- ever since Regulus passed, I have been having these dreams, but they do not feel like dreams."

He nodded for you to continue.

"I thought it was Kreature's memories, from that night, but the more I think about it, the less it makes sense," you breathed, closing your eyes for a brief second as the memory flashed before you. "It is, as if I am seeing his memories. He is dragged into the depths, there is a flash from his wand, suddenly he is breathing, and then he is back to struggling, but the inferi could not reach him."

"How long have you had those dreams?"

"Since the night he passed."

Dumbledore nodded.

"Every night, he breathes, then suddenly struggles again, stops, he feels cold, but not quite dead, right until he takes a new breath, and every time he does, I wake."

Dumbledore quietly placed his cup back onto its saucer. He itched his thin white beard as he peered at his desk, and then to a painting of a wizard you did not know.

"Sir Watson," he adresses him, and the funny looking, very small wizard with a bright pink hat and matching robe with diamonds sewed to the sleeves looked at Albus.

"Yes?"

"How did your partner survive your last mission with him?"

The wizard jumped from his bright baby blue rococo chair, clapped his hands with a bright smile on his lips. Cheeks filling with his smile.

"I love this story! Brilliant wizard was he!" He nodded eagerly and you raised an eyebrow at his enthusiasm. "The poor lad was stuck, attacked by rogue and vicious mermaids! He used a scutum charm, protecting him from their attacks. He was able to empty the water from this shielded bubble you see, the shield made it impossible to move but he was able to survive days underwater! Days! He even did a silencing charm so he could block out the mermaid's luring voices! Genius wizard, I tell you, brilliant man."

"How did he get out?"

"Sent me messages, through dreams. We were married you see, magic intertwined and all."

"Thank you, Sir Watson." Albus smiled, and the wizard happily nodded before sitting back on his chair and grabbing the book he always seemed to be holding.

Your mouth opened in shock, hands shaking as you brought your hands to your warm cheeks, already wet with tears.

"Tell me. Do you think there is a chance he might still be alive?"

You shivered. The wind was rustling harshly, and drops of salt water were picking at your eyes. Your thin coat and skirts of silks were already starting to feel heavy from the accumulated rain drops.

You held your arms close to yourself. This was the place of nightmares, of your nightmares. Your gut was twisting in itself and you felt like you were going to retch everything in you as you walked through the opening to the cavern.

You shivered again. The rain was replaced by the harsh voice of the wind, waves crashing against the rocks of the cliff and the screech you were so familiar with in your nightmares.

The icing screams of the inferi.

Albus Dumbledore muttered something, you assumed a spell, you did not recognise.

Suddenly the pitch black water turned crystal clear.

You could see them. The dead creatures slithering at the bottom of the lake, harshly tapping onto something.

Dumbledore threw something on the other side of the lake using his magic, and only when their attention caught on the pebble and they swam towards it did you see him.

Regulus. You could see his fine features, eyes closed in pain, hand clutched tightly against his wand. Suddenly he breathed again, and you watched as, just like in your dreams, bubbles rose from his lips before air was sucked into the shield he had created himself.

Indeed, Regulus was still alive, and barely hanging on to life.

"Quick, he will not be able to hold it for long."

"What do I do?" Your heart was racing, and your hands clammy as Dumbledore walked closer to the water where Regulus lay.

"Asciendio!" With a flick of his wand, you watched as Regulus was pulled out of the water, faster than the dead creatures could reach.

You dropped by his side, and before you knew it, Dumbledore’s hand was on your shoulder and the three of you aparated to location twelve.

"Regulus," you cradled his head, attempting to lift his upper body. He was coughing, trembling as he tried to hold on to your shoulders for support.

His eyes were bloodshot, his skin paler than his already pearl colour. His plum lips were blue, and the tip of his fingers a matching colour. You held onto him as he continued coughing water, severely shivering in your arms.

"Y/n," he croaked.

"Shh, you're safe my love." You pushed his hair away from his face. Suddenly you felt the weight of his body on you, head heavily resting against your shoulder. He was crying, hot tears streaming down his face. "It's over, my love, you're safe."

Albus wrapped a large blanket over the both of you, and you thanked him as a shiver tumbled down your own spine.

Your hand held tightly onto the back of his head, the other firmly pressed against the space in between his shoulder blades. You shivered with him, your own body shaking with relief and emotions you were yet to decipher.

"He is soaked to the bone Albus, I need to get him home." You spoke through a hoarse voice, tears blurring your vision

"Alright," the elder nodded. "Do you remember our agreement?"

"Yes," you roughly nodded, pressing your cheek against Regulus’s cold forehead, your heavy tears dripping into his hair.

Although his voice held gravity, it wasn’t a hard agreement to maintain. That you’d take care of Regulus, nurse him back to health. That you’d tell him all the things he needed to know, and that if he truly wished to change sides, he would meet with Dumbledore to discuss further agreements.

The rest was the plan for the news of his come back to the purebloods and death eaters.

The story that was bordering truth. That you had seen the signs, that he had sent you the signs and you saved him. But how you were to tell them the story would remain in the choices Regulus had to make upon his return to full consciousness.

Your face softened as you met Dumbledore’s eyes, "thank you, Albus. Thank you."

#captain black 🫧#marauders 🫧#regulus black #regulus black imagine #sirius black x y/n #sirius black #sirius black x you #sirius black imagine #sirius black fan fiction #sirius black x reader #sirius black x reader fic recs #marauders imagine #marauders fan fiction

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turtledork02 · 1 day ago

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oh ... the angst of ratchet ... horrific (beautiful)

i really love learning about your au! it's really good! and your art style is so yummyy!! like fresh crepes

will your au be told through art and story? or just art? or just story?

and what does team prime do on a daily basis? like looking at energon mines and sniping any decepticons that get too close, i understand that, but anything other than that?

oh! and are there going to be any different kind of bots beside autobots and decepticons? any predacons or insecticons?

also, thank you for all the art with some of the asks! i think it's so cool when creators make art for asks, even tho they don't have to. it's super sweet. you're a pretty rad guy!

I unfortunately have a habit of torturing my favorite characters lol-

Also thank you for the compliment on my art!! Have a Miko sketch!! *kiss kiss platonically*

I plan on telling the AU through both art and story!! Although I probably will not write the start of canon plot until I get all the character sheets out, just so that I have time to flesh out the characters and ideas more fully.

As for what Team Prime does on a daily basis! Before they met the humans, they were pretty bored actually lol. They took a lot of time to learn earth culture since they had little else to do. Ratchet and First Aid learned human medicine, and are very skilled at it now! Bumblebee learned about street racing and does that for fun. Sometimes he brings Arcee and/or Wheeljack! Optimus and the others know about it but let him do it so he can have some fun. Wheeljack makes new bombs, inventions, and such on when he’s bored and not working on his studies. Arcee has a training room with holograms that she uses a LOT. She punches things a lot. Optimus does a lot of reading. Like a lot. He has read so much earth literature now and he loves it. His favorites are Lord of the Rings, The Hobbit, and several of Stephen King’s works.

By the time Jack, Miko, and Sari join the Autobots, the plot starts picking up speed. From there they will be interacting with Decepticons a lot more and trying to protect earth.

And yes, Insecticons and other Cybertronian species will exist! I’m still figuring out who and where. Predacons will probably remain a memory from the past. They are not really that relative to my AU plot, as much as I love predacons. As for Dinobots, though.👀

Thank you so much for all the asks!! I’m so glad you’re enjoying these!! They have been giving me a lot of motivation to draw, which helps me flesh out my characters more! I really appreciate everyone taking interest.

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nereidof40k · 2 days ago

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Chapter One of the tentatively named

Days of Ultramar.

I have no idea how many chapters, but several for sure.

Ellie (Ellicent) belongs to @justanothermemestrider Thanks for letting me borrow her. Gadriel is getting her back just fine, don’t worry. 😄

Honestly, everything aches. But Mirian keeps the smile on her face as she makes her way through the corridors. Years of being reminded she is a Valerius telling her not to show weakness. The expression on her face probably shows more strain than she likes.

The Fortress of Hera looks quite unchanged from her memories. But the different faces is a stark reminder that she is ten thousand years in the future. She can scarcely believe it. Pushing the thought back into a box. If she dwells on it too much she might break down in tears right in the middle of the Fortress.

Finally she arrives at Guilliman’s office door. Knocking firmly on the ornate surface. In no time there is a very deep voice telling her to come in.

Roboute’s eyes widen as his eidetic memory provides a name he has not thought of for a long time. He finds himself standing up. “Mirian? Lady Mirian Valerius?”

The smile on her face brightens, becoming less strained. “Roboute Guilliman. It’s been a long time.”

He rounds his desk with surprising speed for his massive size. Roboute was always tall, but this makes her feel as small as a bug. Especially as he takes her hand and kisses it gently, like a gentleman. His hand could crush both of hers.

“It seems things have changed considerably since I was last here.” She smiles.

At his urging, she tells a story that makes Roboute’s blood boil. Though she doesn’t state it in so many words, it is clear to him that the Inquisition has been less than kind.

He finds himself promising to do everything he can to aid her. She might not be one of his brothers, but here is another person who remembers Ultramar that was. That is something.

She nods. “I’m grateful, Roboute.” Retrieving an ancient dataslate from inside her dress. “I was not the only one thrown into this future. The crew and other passengers will need support to make ourselves a place in this millennium.”

Taking the dataslate, he muses that she is definitely a daughter of House Valerius. They always looked after their own people. Very well known for their philanthropy and dedication.

Reading her report, he finds it is concise and clearly laid out. Not something he expected. But it is gratifying.

“Of course, Lady Mirian. You and yours are more than welcome to stay on Macragge as long as you wish. The extra hands will be very helpful.”

Then, her face grows serious. “What of Calth? The Inquisition made some concerning remarks. I believe a lot have happened in these millennia.”

Roboute wishes his mother was here. She would be far better suited to explaining the utter shitshow of stupidity that has become of his Father’s Imperium.

He guides Lady Mirian to the visitor’s chair, retrieving a dataslate from a drawer. Pulling up the report on the state of the Imperium he compiled after his return, and pulling up the pages on Ultramar.

Passing it to her with a remark that many things have happened.

Watching her read in between his endless paperwork. That fair face turning so pale her freckles look black by comparison. He is impressed by how she does not cry. Emperor knows he wanted to.

Her slender hand reaches out, snatching the glass sitting on his desk.

Pausing with it halfway to her mouth she wrinkles her nose, voice shaky. “While I can use a drink at this point, this might be a little too strong.”

He chuckles ruefully as he takes the glass back. “Far too strong. This is Mjød, a drink from my brother Leman’s homeworld. As far as I know it would make you go blind.”

She leans forward, looking at him intently. “Roboute…how can I help?” Voice heavy with concern.

It’s been so long since anyone addressed him like that. Like a man, not a demigod. She actually seems to see how tired he is.

“We can talk about that tomorrow. You look like you could use some rest, Lady Mirian. I will have someone show you and your party to guest quarters.” He needs to focus. He keeps wanting to go scream at the Inquisition, and that would have horrific consequences.

She nods, standing up regally. “Thank you, Roboute.”

At this very point, an Ultramarine with a plumed helmet enters his office. Cato Sicarius. Who does a double take at the woman standing in his Primarch’s office. Even more so when Roboute introduces Lady Mirian Valerius.

Cato snorts, making a remark about how she is very late to her wedding.

Her explanation about a warp storm does little to mollify Sicarius, so Roboute settles for calling a serf to escort Lady Mirian. Before Cato causes a diplomatic incident.

Fortunately Sicarius is not immune to disappointed looks from his Primarch. Behaving long enough to get Mirian out of there.

Roboute glares at Cato as she leaves. Demanding an explanation for his behavior.

Mirian is glad to be out of there. That was even more awkward than she had feared. Thank goodness for Roboute.

Not wanting to dwell too much on the Marine who looked so much like her Chairon. But he can’t have been. Not with the way he had looked at her so blankly, like a stranger.

She busies herself seeing to the rest of her companions and crew being properly housed, their needs seen to.

This, at least , hasn’t changed. If anything Roboute Guilliman’s household seems to be run so efficiently it would make Tarasha Euten proud.

In the process she does run into a Marine named Uriel Ventris, with a delightfully thick Calth accent. It may not be her Calth, but something does remain of her homeworld. Not everything has ceased to exist.

Far too soon everyone is settled, and so she accepts Ventris’ offer of sharing a drink and talking about Calth.

The place he takes her to is full of Ultramarines, but right now she doesn’t want to be alone with her thoughts. She can deal with a few stares.

Chairon’s attention keeps drifting to the woman talking to Ventris. A baseline sharing a drink with Astartes is strange enough. But the things she speaks of…he is getting more and more certain she somehow remembers his Calth. Her stories are too familiar, so full of raw emotion. Bringing hazy memories of the past into clarity. And the more he watches her talk, the more it feels familiar. Like it’s almost a memory, one he can almost but not quite remember.

Something about that hair, too. The way she gets more and more animated.

Then Sicarius comes over to complain that a woman of her supposed status shouldn’t be drinking so much.

Her response makes Titus wince in sympathy. He is very familiar with the urge to drink after being questioned by the Inquisition.

As Titus gets up to intervene, Chairon feels a strange sensation of jealousy. Like it should be him standing next to her, protecting her.

Cato finally slinks away after she stomps on his foot and calls him on ungentlemanly behavior.

Leaving Titus and Ventris to escort the last daughter of an extinct house safely to bed. Poor thing. She was far less destructive than most, just talkative. Very few people would begrudge her a bit of drinking.

Chairon sits there for what seems like forever, worrying at the almost formed memory. It’s starting to annoy him. But it feels important.

Titus has to carry Mirian into her room. Between them he and Uriel manage to get her sandals off and tuck her into bed. That pretty dress will probably be wrinkled in the morning, but neither of them is going to do anything untoward.

“I’m worried.” Ventris admits as they leave. Titus nods. That is one desperately lonely person. He can relate to having lost everything. And she can’t even get any of it back. The passage of time is cruel like that.

“Should maybe introduce her to Gadriel’s girlfriend.” Titus muses in a low voice. Ventris nods. He’s met Ellie. She might be a good choice, as unforgettable and unstoppable as she is.

#warhammer 40k #warhammer 40k oc #oc: mirian of calth #macragge #ultramar #ultramarines #roboute guilliman #primarch #uriel ventris #chairon #demetrian titus #cato sicarius #my writing #my oc

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thisgirlnamedblusy · 10 hours ago

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Heyyy!! It is I again! I love all your stories <3 all of them are chef kiss and make me blush 🤌🏼😍

I have a bit of a request that I thought in my mind, but only you could do it better.

Can you probably make one of Reader being a maid and she was given by Dimistrescu and sent to work for Donna. Reader does her job properly, cleaning around and distracting Angie, but one day she accidentally enters Donna's room and sees her face. Donna notices just in time before Reader hides behind the door and leaves. After that Donna starts treating her much more strict and worse. She pulls Reader's hair when she does something wrong or yells at her; making her life miserable. Donna starts to become the monster rumors say. This scares and stresses Reader to the point where she tries to run from Donna, but Donna reacts before she thinks and uses her nightmare powers on Reader. Turns out that Reader's fear was to disappoint Donna because she's always been a disappointment to her family. Donna realizes that what she was doing was very wrong and asks for forgiveness. It takes time, but eventually Reader forgives her and they start to find each other again. This time, they find more than friendship and fall in love. They confess and kiss !! And cherry on top: THEY MAKE LOVE ! Donna assures Reader that she'll never disappoint her no matter what she does and Reader assures her that she's beautiful!

Ok! Now you make the magic!!

Angst with happy ending! (It can be g!p if u want)

Love u!

Yess!!! I'm sorry about the delay, but thanks for your request!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!!

The monster they talked about

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem, maid!! Reader

Warnings: G!P Donna, a bit of smut, Minors DNI, angst, dark themes, dark Donna, but happy ending

Word count: 8,983

Summary: She changed, she became the monster people say she was...

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

“Hi,” you say in a whisper, leaning towards her, letting yourself fall on her shoulders while your lips delicately rest on her neck. “Hi, my love.”

“(Y/N).” A sigh leaves her lips and you smile, closing your eyes when her hands rest on yours, caressing them in the same way they worked the fabric of a small dress a moment ago.

“I hope I'm not disturbing you,” you say shortly after, letting her lips capture yours quickly, blurring that silent moment in the best possible way. “I thought you might like some tea.”

“Mm, you’ve read my mind, tesoro,” Donna answers, inviting you to sit in an adjoining chair, looking at you briefly.

“You forget that I was your maid once, darling,” you joke, making her understand that you know each of her quirks, each one of her habits.

“Yes, well,” she answers dryly, as if that simple fact hurt her. “But you're not anymore.”

“Mm…” you joke again, looking up at the ceiling and pretending to think deeply. “Oh, that's true.”

Donna smiles and shakes her head, unable to suppress the urge to kiss you again, this time more slowly, enjoying the taste of your lips before it was altered by the tea.

“Grazie,” the lady sighs when you hand her a cup, nodding gratefully.

You shrug it off and frown, remembering that word and concentrating to repeat it.

“Gra… Grazie?” you say shyly, earning a tender smile from her. “I'm improving my Italian”

The lady in black shakes her head and laughs discreetly, a blush adorning her cheeks.

“If you say so…” she murmurs, looking away, urging you to give her a gentle punch on the shoulder with a look of false offense.

“Hey, I'm really improving,” you protest, pushing her playfully before settling yourself lovingly on her lap.

Your eyes meet as her hand brushes your hair away from your face. It's a silent moment, but it says more than any words. The laughter, the kisses, the words of love... all of it was worthless without those intense glances, without those expressive silences.

A slightly deeper kiss attacks your lips, which react as if they were tickles, forcing you to laugh mischievously.

“(Y/N),” Donna says, calling your attention and kissing you one last time. “Your tea is going to get cold.”

“Yes, yes,” you say, reluctantly moving away from her lap and returning to your usual spot, sighing at the lack of the warmth of her body on yours .

“What do you think?” the doll maker asks, displaying a new dress for one of her creations, one that you observed closely while taking a sip.

“It's perfect,” you whisper, caressing the fabric with your fingers and leaving the cup on the table.

As you do so, you notice a small groove, a mark that made the porcelain of the cup somewhat unpleasant.

Your eyes travel to the handle of the cup, stuck to the rest clumsily, revealing a crack from which screams, nightmares and something you wanted to forget seemed to come out.

“(Y/N),” the lady says, frowning, as if that moment had lasted too long.

“Oh, sorry, I was…” you apologize awkwardly, shaking your head. “… I was… nevermind.”

The ventriloquist nods unsurely and goes back to her sewing machine, leaving a knot in your stomach, something inside you that was crying out to be heard. After a few moments of silence that was no longer comfortable, you decided to share your thoughts with her.

“Donna,” you whisper with a delicate tone, making her turn around and nod patiently to listen to you.

“Mm?” she murmurs, looking at you attentively.

“Everything has changed a lot, hasn't it?” you comment.

“What do you mean?”

“I was just remembering how we got to this point, to what we are now,” you say distractedly, playing nervously with one of the dolls on the table.

Donna stops and the lack of the machine's noise creates an awkward moment. The lady lowers her head and begins to move her hands erratically, playing with them.

“Don’t do it,” she says with a serious tone, gaining enough courage to extend one of her hands towards yours. “Now everything is perfect, there is no need to…”

“I think that…” you interrupt, caressing her fingers little by little, with the memories stalking your mind. “… I think there is nothing wrong with remembering. After all, here we are now, everything is fine.”

“Do you really think so?” Donna questions, with an unsure look while you kiss her softly.

“Mm, of course,” you affirm, nodding at the same time.

“I wasn't fair to you, (Y/N),” the lady whispers, lowering her gaze, gently removing your hands from her face.

“Hey, do you know that before the incident you already seemed terribly sexy to me?” you joke, nudging her to dispel the demons from her mind.

“Cosa? Oh, um... really? You hadn't even seen my face,” she says, smiling tenderly at your attempt to make her feel better.

“Really,” you sigh, traveling with your mind to those first days, where it all began:

Some months ago…

You were never someone special, just a young woman who was born in the wrong place, at the right time. Life in the village was difficult for anyone, but for you... it was much worse.

Your family didn't see you as a blessing or as someone to love and protect. No matter what you did, they would never be proud of you.

Screams and demands were part of your days, turning your life into something like a macabre spectacle of impositions and disappointment.

Knowing that you would fail your family, you decided to be practical, and act in the only way that would allow you to get away from them.

Thus, you became a maid at Dimitrescu Castle. A much sought-after job, but one for which you had a great deal of experience. After all, all you had done for as long as you could remember was to serve.

The difference was that at least you wouldn't receive scorn or impossible demands, but a salary with which you could keep your family quiet.

The plan went as well as you had hoped, and your ability to please and attend to the needs of Alcina Dimitrescu and her daughters ensured you the recognition you never had from your family.

But life seemed to laugh at you, as that illusion of routine and stability disappeared the day Alcina talked to you.

Your life changed again. Your skills and your open and outgoing personality led the lady in white to choose you for another task, a very different one.

You would no longer serve Dimitrescu, but her lonely and mysterious sister, the youngest of the Lords, Donna Beneviento.

There had always been rumors about each of the Lords in the village, but Lady Beneviento got the worst of it. She was a dark figure, covered by a black veil, feared by all, and loved by no one.

Many villagers didn't even consider the lady in black a person, but a monster. You never decided to let yourself be carried away by the rumors of the village, and as you headed to the old mansion, you told yourself that it was all an exaggeration. After all, Alcina and her daughters weren't as terrible as they said, at least not to you.

Donna was definitely not an ordinary woman. Her black veil hid her face, and her refusal to communicate with you made her even more mysterious.

Your tasks were quite similar, so you wouldn't have many problems. The only difference was that instead of having to entertain three nervous, unhinged girls, you would have to do it with Angie, the lady's living doll.

Cleaning, cooking, playing with Angie... They were certainly not complicated tasks, and you did them without a problem, always keeping an eye on that dark shadow, that black veil you sometimes thought was watching you.

As time went by, the few words the lady addressed to you increased, as if she herself were gaining confidence, or rather, getting used to your presence.

Lady Beneviento was an unstable, sick and introverted woman, but you had the ability to adapt to any situation, learning to deal with her crises and to keep quiet when you had to.

It was a challenge, but as the months went by, you had overcome it. Yes, the rumors about Donna seemed exaggerated.

“You cannot put two circles on the board at the same time,” you explained, making it impossible for the Angie doll to correctly understand the game of tic-tac-toe.

“Yes I can,” the doll protested, crossing your arms. “Those are my rules.”

“Rules? I didn’t know you cared about rules,” you said with a smile, erasing the game from the old blackboard, blowing on the chalk until there were no marks left.

You were always too much of a perfectionist.

“Oh, I do care…” Angie said, taking the board from your hands.

“Okay, okay…” you said amused, rolling your eyes. “What do you want to play now?”

The answer didn't come from the doll, but from the clock in the entrance. It hurt you to admit it, but the mornings with the irreverent puppet passed faster and faster.

“Guess the picture!” she squealed, jumping on the floor.

“I'm sorry, Miss Angie but…” you said, getting up from the floor and fixing your hair. “I have to make lunch.”

You carefully prepared a delicious soup, measuring the ingredients, discarding anything that wasn't close to perfection. Every day you pushed yourself harder and harder, proving to the world that you were capable of being valuable, that someone would recognize your effort someday, even if that someone was the mysterious lady Beneviento.

Punctual as always, the lady appeared when everything was ready, while you placed the cutlery with a sickly delicacy and care, bowing when that dark figure appeared in front of you.

“My lady,” you said elegantly, receiving a timid nod in response. “I hope the soup is to your liking.”

“Mm.” Well, a discreet murmur was much more than the eternal silence the lady had at the beginning.

Beneviento began to eat, discreetly moving her veil aside so as not to be seen, under your watchful gaze.

This time, for some reason, time passed more slowly.

Suddenly the lady stopped eating, directing her invisible gaze towards you, who were waiting patiently for her to finish.

“Cosa fai?” she asked with a hoarse voice, taking you out of your thoughts.

“Oh, um… sorry?” you asked somewhat confused. You had heard her speak before, but it was uncommon.

Your lady sighed annoyed, leaving the cutlery on the table.

“What are you doing?”

“Oh, well, I'm waiting for you to finish, my lady,” you answered with an elegant smile, lowering your gaze.

“Why?” the lady asked again, crossing her arms uncomfortably, starting to form a knot in your stomach. “You always do the same.”

“I think it’s my duty, my lady,” you explained, a little more nervous than usual. “Alcina always…”

“Taci, I'm talking,” the lady interrupted, clenching one of her fists. “Do you have a hobby of watching people while they eat? Oh, well, did my sister get some kind of pleasure from you doing it?”

Her words and voice were authoritative, but at the same time they betrayed the clumsiness of someone who didn't usually talk to anyone. Deep down, that seemed adorable in its own way, but also terrifying.

“No, my lady, it's what all us maids did, you know, in case she needs something or…” you said, sure of your words, ignoring the strangeness you felt when talking to her.

“I don't need anything,” Donna murmured, picking up her cutlery again. “Aren't you hungry?”

“Yes, a little, my lady, you admitted nervously. “But Alcina…”

“Alcina what?” she interrupted, annoyed, as if the simple name of her sister made her uncomfortable.

“W-Well, she always said that maids should eat after and…” you tried to explain, but an impatient grunt forced you to shut up.

“What nonsense,” your lady exhaled, shaking her head. “Siedeti”

“Sorry?” you asked, controlling the trembling of your hands.

“I said sit, silly maid,” she growled impatiently. “Sit and have lunch with me… per favore.”

“Um, I…” you stammered surprised by the proposal but without time to think what to do since your legs moved on their own towards the table. “Of course, my lady, thank you, my lady.”

“If I hear you say my lady again, I will make you clean the books in the office, one by one, is that clear?” the lady threatened.

“Yes, my… um…”

“Donna. I have a name, my name is Donna,” she said nervously, gently knocking on the table to get your attention.

“Yes, Donna,” you said, picking up a plate and serving yourself some soup, not fully aware of what you were getting yourself into.

The lady sighed, also betraying nervousness, and grabbed a bottle of wine, tilting it towards your glass.

“Oh, no, please, I shouldn't drink alcohol, Alcina...” you said, putting your hands in front of your body as a defense. Her silence was a bad sign, which you interpreted right away. “I mean... I would love some wine, Donna.”

She nodded, and so, began what would undoubtedly be the most uncomfortable meal of your life.

The silence was heavy around you, and your nervous smiles didn’t help. It was true that you lost your fear of the lady in black after the first few months, but eating with her was something you had never done before, although sometimes, just sometimes, you wanted to get a little closer to her, to get to know her better...

“Um...” you interrupted, fearing that the silence would last forever “Do you like the soup?”

“Mm,” she answered, discreetly, without saying a word.

“Great, I guess,” you whispered with a complacent look, avoiding seeing the pale skin that the movements of her veil revealed. “It's my recipe.”

“Mm,” she murmured again, with apparent disinterest. “I thought the maids of the castle didn’t know how to cook.”

“Oh, well,” you said a more relaxed, feeling internally proud of your skills. “It's true that she has cooks, but... well, I guess that's why I'm here.”

“Mm, explain,” Donna demanded, with a calmer tone, apparently.

“Well... Alcina sent me to work with you because according to her I was the best of her maids, so...” you said uncertainly, playing with your food.

“How bold,” she commented, sighing and shaking her head. “Given the situation you are in now, I doubt she had the slightest appreciation for you.”

“What? Why do you say that?” you asked surprised, and hurt by the comment.

“Don't pretend that this is some kind of promotion or reward for you, silly girl,” Donna said, pointing at you with the spoon.

“W-Well, why can't I think like that?” you protested calmly and curiously.

“No one would think like that,” she commented with a dark, sad voice, one that attracted your attention.

“Well,” you said with a confident smile, tilting your head. “I sincerely prefer this to a swarm of gossipy maids incapable of keeping quiet... it was... stressful,” you risked joking, making her gaze slowly rise to you.

“Mm”

“What I mean is that… well I'm comfortable here, with you, I mean, in this house, serving you and… well…” you stammered, feeling a familiar heat on your cheeks, afraid of making a mistake with your words, but knowing that they were sincere in some way.

“Are you comfortable here, with me?” she asked in a different tone, making the heat on your cheeks increase.

“Well… I am,” you said almost without a voice, looking for a way to smother that fire in your chest, a discomfort that wasn't so anymore, for some reason. “You're not like people say.”

“Mm?” the lady asked, staring at you, surprised by those involuntary words.

“I… well, I… Ugh, it’s getting late…” you said awkwardly, finishing your food and hastily getting up from the table. “I better pick this up and…” You couldn’t continue talking, as your steps were interrupted by a hand that grabbed your wrist tightly.

“(Y/N),” Donna said, getting up as well, without letting you go. “Thank you, for having lunch with me.”

“You’re welcome, Donna,” you said, formally pushing her hand away and bowing slightly.

It seemed like an exceptional, isolated situation, but you soon realized that it wasn’t at all. From that moment on, you dined, and had breakfast and lunch t with the lady in black. The conversations were terribly awkward at first, but little by little they began to flow naturally.

Donna Beneviento wasn’t right in the head, that was more than evident, but behind that facade of madness and loneliness was hidden a truly interesting and intelligent woman, one that you wanted to get to know better.

Hearing her laughter was one more step. A tea here, a chat about books there… Something was forming and you didn't want to be aware of it, you wanted to ignore the beating of your heart, which increased when she was near.

No, you couldn't, you shouldn't feel anything for her, right? Right?

Getting away from those thoughts and feelings seemed the most prudent thing to do, of course, and that's what you did, or tried to. The relationship that united you grew stronger day by day, with every word, every sigh, with every silent look.

But any thought or illusion that formed in your head, like in your heart, wouldn't last long. A month was enough for everything that had grown between you to suddenly disappear, in the worst possible way.

“Well...” you sighed as you walked through the basement. You never liked that damn basement. In your hands you carried clean sheets and, looking at the clock, you saw that it was the right time to clean your mistress's room.

Normally entering there was forbidden, with the exception of one day a week, and as long as Donna was working on her dolls in the meantime.

You discreetly approached the workshop, trying to distinguish some sound inside the sinister room to find out if your mistress was there.

Some noises confirmed it and, unlike other times when you entered the workshop to make sure, this time you shrugged assuming that the lady in black was immersed in her work.

Humming happily, you headed towards the bedroom, trying to put aside those dangerous feelings and stick to your work. If you had been more focused on your tasks, perhaps you would have realized something important.

The door to the room was open, and inside it... was Donna.

The lady in black was sitting in front of a piece of furniture with a mirror, nothing out of the ordinary. What was strange, what made you stop abruptly, was that in the reflection of the old mirror, you could see her face.

The veil that prevented you from looking at her eyes was no longer there. In the mirror you could only see the reflection of a damaged face, some black hair tied in a messy bun framing it, curiously similar to the portrait on the stairs.

“Shit,” you whispered, trying to hide when you realized your mistake, but unable to look away from the reflection.

Donna was a beautiful woman, a really beautiful one. Her black hair framed the paleness of her face in a subtle, natural way. Her one eye shone wetly due to a tear the lady wiped away with a sob.

The right side of her face was the complete opposite. A horrible scar covered the place where her right eye should be. It was a striking scar, yes, but one that didn’t overshadow her beauty in the slightest.

You understood her fear, her insecurities, the reason why that horrible veil prevented you from seeing her beauty, but you found it difficult to understand.

Your feelings danced to the tune of her reflection, of her sad but beautiful gaze. It seemed that time had stopped, but you quickly realized that it wasn’t like that, that you could also see yourself in that mirror.

Putting a hand on your mouth to stifle a gasp, you hid behind the door, just when the lady stopped crying, as if something had scared her, as if she had noticed your presence.

Without making a sound, you fled to the corner as the sound of heels came closer and closer. You trembled with fear and nerves controlled your actions. You knew she wouldn't be able to see you, but you still couldn't help but be scared.

A loud slam of the door made you drop the clean sheets and your legs threatened to give out. Had she seen you? Had she heard you? Did she know you were there? That you had seen her?

Not knowing whether to apologize and admit your fault or hide like a cowardly rat, you walked back to the workshop, pretending that everything was okay, that everything would be okay.

“Damn it... Angie!” you yelled when you saw the doll inside the workshop, discovering that the irreverent puppet was the cause of the noises that made you think that Donna was there.

“Hey! What's that tone about, maid?” the doll protested, with her hands comically placed on her hips.

“W-W-Were you here the whole time?” you asked, with your whole body shaking, looking back, thinking that at any moment, Donna would come.

“What's wrong with you? Of course I was,” Angie answered, tilting her head and laughing sinisterly. “Hey, silly, what's got into you?”

“I-I, I thought that...” you said nervously, running a hand over your forehead, not really knowing what to say or do, until the unmistakable sound of her heels burst into the room. “Oh, my lady Donna,” you said with difficulty, making an awkward bow.

The lady, now covered in her black veil, approached you slowly, menacingly. She had caught you, for sure.

“You, maid, what are you doing?” she asked in an unpleasant tone, making you cringe in fear.

“Sorry, Donna, I was just looking if you were here to… to clean your room, if that's okay…” you managed to say with great effort, pretending, or trying to pretend, that nothing had happened.

The woman sighed impatiently, approaching the clean sheets, stained from having fallen to the floor.

“I see… were you planning to put these sheets on my bed?” she asked in a disturbing tone, looking at the clothes with disdain.

“Yes, of course, I…” you said timidly, checking what exactly was wrong.

“Stupida…” Donna hissed, intimidating you even more. “These sheets are dirty, maid, clean them.”

“Oh, I… I'm sorry, I didn't look closely and…” you said, nervously apologizing and dusting the sheets that, apart from that, were completely clean. “Bu-bu-but I'll clean them right away and…”

“Shut up!” your mistress shouted at you, making the lump in your throat prevent you from speaking. “You're getting used to too many luxuries, maid. You should relearn what you place is.”

“Excuse me? I-I, I don't…” you stammered, frowning, but unable to stop shaking.

“I said… shut up!” she shrieked again, causing even her doll to flee the workshop with a cry of panic. “I don't want to hear your stupid voice, is that clear? Is that clear!?” she insisted, grabbing your arm tightly and shaking your body, making the sheets caress the floor again.

“I'm sorry, Donna, I…” you said trembling, bending down to pick up the clothes under her watchful gaze, lost, disoriented by that sudden behavior.

It couldn't be a crisis, she'd never had one like that, there had to be something else, something that had to do with your discovery.

“Donna?” the doll maker asked ironically, crossing her arms. “For you, I am… Your lady! Do you hear me? Your lady!” she shouted frantically, making you shrink on the floor while you nodded nervously.

“Y-yes…” you murmured.

“Yes, what?!” she demanded, making her sweet and elegant voice sound like a terrifying roar.

“Yes, my lady,” you repeated, trying not to cry and slowly standing up.

“I don't want to hear you, I don't want to see you, I don't want to know you exist, I want clean sheets on my bed now!”

“I-I'm sorry, my lady, as you say, my lady, I won't fail you, my lady,” you repeated automatically, nodding and trying not to let the tears that were eager to escape from your eyes run down your cheeks.

“Ugh, idiota...” she growled, turning on her heels and walking towards her work table.

“But, what's wrong with you?” you whispered as you picked up the sheets, glancing sideways at the lady and disappearing from the workshop, scared and confused.

Everything changed from that day on.

What was a calm, peaceful relationship, which could even become something more, became a nightmare.

You didn't even bother to think that it had to do with having seen her face, you couldn't, you didn't have time to think or question that change in the attitude of the lady in black.

The timid praises became words of contempt, constant disapproval, screams, almost impossible demands. Donna had changed; she had become a tyrant, a horrible and irritable woman.

Nothing you did seemed right to her, nothing you felt seemed to matter to her. She was dominating you, intimidating you, treating you as if you were worthless, as if you were useless, a feeling you knew all too well.

The days became long and tedious. The trembling of your body accelerated when she came closer, when she yelled at you, when she despised everything you did. Those quiet lunches and dinners became hell. Donna forced you to sit in front of her every day, listening to more and more hurtful words, more and more contempt.

Being strict wasn’t a problem, but that behavior went far beyond simple demands; it was rage, irrational hatred for something you weren’t sure you had done. You were getting worse, the smile no longer adorned your face, you were afraid.

Donna scared you, she terrified you.

Little by little you began to forget those good times, understanding that the rumors were always right. Donna Beneviento wasn’t a woman, she was a monster.

“Where do you think you are going?” the lady asked when you discreetly finished your meal, getting up so you could stop being with her.

“I'm done, my lady,” you whispered elegantly, picking up your plate with trembling hands.

“Did I tell you that you can go?” she asked in a superior tone, forcing you to sit down again.

“You didn’t, my lady,” you said, lowering your gaze.

“Mm, well, okay, go, I fancy some tea,” Donna said after a moment of unbearable silence. “Are you deaf? Tea, now.”

“Yes, my lady,” you said kindly, hurrying to collect the plates and go down to the kitchen before she thought of anything else to ask you.

You knew that you couldn't bear this situation much longer, but you had to. Donna was a monster, but you were her maid. Something inside you forced you not to fail her, not to disappoint her.

Scared and nervous in case you took too long, you carefully prepared her tea, going up the elevator again and faking a horrible smile.

“It's about time,” Donna commented, hitting the table impatiently.

“Forgive me, my lady, but I still can't control the boiling temperature of the water,” you said unintentionally, regretting it instantly.

“What did you say?” the lady asked, slowly getting up from the table. “Are you making fun of me?”

“N-No, my lady,” you said while you poured the tea, trying not to leave panic take over your body.

“No one makes fun of me! Much less a pathetic maid like you,” the woman hissed, grabbing your arm tightly, pulling it, shaking you until a sound of something breaking made her retreat.

The cup you held with your trembling hand crashed against the floor, irreparably breaking into several pieces.

“Stupida!” she shrieked furiously. “Stupida, stupida! Look what you've done!”

“I-I'm sorry, my lady, I… Ah!” you screamed when her hand went straight to your hair, pulling it hard, causing you pain. “Ah, I'm sorry!” you cried for her grip to lessen, but it didn't only increased due to your resistance.

“You're useless! You don't do anything right! I should punish you for this…” she yelled in your ear, giving you another horrible tug and forcing you to bend over, kneeling on the floor.

“Please, my lady, it hurts!” you protested on the verge of tears, being careful not to lean on the remains of the porcelain. “Please!”

“Cretina!” Donna exclaimed, letting you go with a growl and leaning.

“No, please, my lady, have mercy, my lady, I… I…” you said nervously, avoiding looking at her, feeling the heat of the burning tea on your knees and hissing at the sensation. “Please… Donna, please…”

You didn't know why you were begging, why you longed for that interesting and kind woman you once met, but still, you did it.

“Mm? Silenzio, stupida,” the lady murmured bending down and bringing a hand to your chin, squeezing it tightly. “You are a very bold maiden… Mm, the truth is that seeing you like this, on your knees in front of me… It pleases me. Maybe I should think about the punishment I'm going to give you…” she commented with a dangerous voice, insinuating something that seemed unthinkable.

“No, please… please,” you exhaled almost without strength, without wanting to continue fighting, accepting any horrible punishment she imposed on you, without being able to stop it.

“Shh, chiudi il becco, ragazza…” she purred, moving your chin, digging her nails into your skin “Now you're going to learn to…”

“Donna, Donna!” Angie's shrill voice appeared at the last moment, causing the lady to stand up with a furious growl.

“Leave, Angie, sono ocuppata,” Donna answered, something you took advantage of to get away from her, from her intentions.

“Yes, yes, yes…” the puppet mocked, tugging at her dress. “So, what do I tell Mother Miranda? Do I tell her that you were too busy torturing the maid to answer her call?” she asked with an ironic tone.

“Ugh, cazzo…” the brunette protested, kicking the floor angrily. “You, stupida, clean this up,” she ordered you before walking away.

“Gods…” you sighed when her presence disappeared, covering your face with your hands, feeling a pat on the back.

“Come on, come on, silly girl, stop crying,” Angie said with a voice that didn't sound like hers at all.

“Angie, what's wrong with Donna? She, she wasn't like that… she wasn't like that…” you said, letting the puppet discreetly comfort you, breaking down in tears.

“Well, I don't know. How would I know?” the doll said, helping you pick up the pieces of the broken cup. “Here, here's one more.”

“Thanks,” you said sobbing, gathering all the pieces. “Angie, I can't take it anymore, I... I'm terrified. I've never been so scared.”

“Donna is scary, huh?” Angie said, in a mocking but somehow understanding tone. “She's a silly Donna, she's acting weird … But, but she'll get over it, I'm sure she'll get over it and…”

“No, Angie. You've seen how she is, she was going to... w-well, I don't know what she was going to do exactly, but this is too much, I don't... I don't think I can go on like this,” you said, slowly getting up, with your knees and head aching. “I don't know what she'll do to me next time.”

“Come on, silly, don't be afraid, your friend Angie is here to protect you,” the doll said. “I won't let my Donna get carried away more than necessary, I like you.”

“Thanks, Angie, but...”

“Angie! Vieni qui!” a demanding voice spoke from somewhere in the house, leaving the doll with no choice but to obey.

Being left alone was the worst thing that could happen to you.

Pretending to entertain yourself, to do something to make up for your mistake, you spent the afternoon trying to put the broken cup back together, carefully gluing the pieces until the break was only noticeable by the cracks that decorated the porcelain.

“Gods…” you sighed again, watching as the night-darkened sky dragged you even further into hell. “I can't go on like this, I can't…”

The house was silent, calm, as if a horrible demon didn't live in it. A strange exhaustion in your chest told you to pay attention to your thoughts, to your survival instinct.

There was no one around, you were completely alone, and by going down a few stairs, you would be in front of the entrance door of the mansion, and, behind it, your freedom awaited. A risky freedom, but… what else could you do?

Lady Beneviento, for whom you once felt something, for whom you once sighed in your lonely nights, wishing to get a little closer to her, was now your tormentor, a monster, one who would always haunt you, as long as you were there, in its lair.

Your life went from being calm, happy, to being miserable. Your face was no longer the same, you were no longer the same and Donna… Donna… what would happen when she got bored of yelling at you and pulling your hair? Could she kill you? Or something worse?

The uncertainty was unbearable, and in a risky, but brave gesture, you decided to slowly go down the stairs. In your hand you carried the repaired cup, a cup that you left on the dining room table, like a silent farewell.

Holding back your tears and controlling the trembling in your body, you turned around, wrapping yourself up to withstand the cold of the night, the cold that awaited you outside.

You gave the portrait one last look, a portrait of a lady as impassive and stoic as ever.

Where had that beautiful woman gone? Where was Donna Beneviento? How could she let a monster take her place?

So many questions, but you were too tired and scared to answer them. Squeezing your eyes shut, you walked one step, then another, until you reached for the doorknob. A strange current prevented you from touching it and, frightened, you turned around.

“Are you going somewhere?” a somber voice asked, Donna, who was standing in the dining room, with a relaxed, self-assured posture.

“I can't stay, I... I...” you answered, making an effort to ignore her and grab the doorknob again. You couldn't do it.

“Don't leave, (Y/N), non te lo permetto...”

As she spoke, the lady in black slowly raised her arm. Her voice was calm, quiet, but it held danger, a danger that ran through your entire body, forcing you to ignore her, and finally, open the door.

The cutting cold lasted barely a second. You thought a dark, snowy landscape was waiting for you, but the warm light of a fireplace appeared instead. It wasn't just any place, it wasn't a dream; you were home, in your home.

“W-What?”

“(Y/N).”A dark voice revealed a shadow that you were convinced wasn't there before. You shuddered when you recognized it: your father. “What a disappointment.”

“Father?” you asked confused, closing and opening your eyes several times to make sure what you were seeing was real.

“Father, you say? A failure like you has no right to call me that, young lady,” the man answered, without looking you in the eyes, as he always did.

“But, father, I don't…”

“Shut up, girl,” a female voice said, your mother “Do you always have to disappoint us?”

“What? No, I haven't done anything,” you said nervously, shaking your head, looking for an explanation for that strange encounter. “I've always tried to...”

“What? To be useless?” your father answered, getting up from an armchair. “You don't know how to do anything, (Y/N), you don't do anything right.”

“What did you want me to do? I'm not perfect, but...” you tried to defend yourself without success, you were too scared. “But, but I try, I really try!”

“Silly girl, you do nothing but fail everyone around you... you are a disappointment to your father, to me, to Donna...”

“No, that's not true, I, I've done the best I could!”

“You lie!” they answered in unison, accompanied by a sinister laugh, the laugh of... Angie.

“I just wanted to do, to do things right… I never wanted to let anyone down, not you, not Alcina, not Donna, I…” you lamented, falling to your knees on the floor, feeling a strange cold shock as you did so.

“Well, you failed!” your father shouted. “You've been a nuisance to us since the day you were born, you're not even good enough to be a maid, you're good enough for nothing…”

“No, that's not true! I’m good enough! I'm a good maid!” you defended yourself, covering your ears so as not to keep hearing those horrible words. “I haven't done anything wrong! I just wanted to be good for Donna, for everyone! I never wanted to let her down!”

“Useless”

“Clumsy”

“Stupida”

“Fool, fool, fool maid!”

Too many voices to fight with. You could make out your parents, Donna, even Angie. You collapsed on the floor as you sobbed inconsolably, begging for help that would never come.

“No, stop, stop… please, I'm not a disappointment… I don't… I just want…”

Your sobs eased when you no longer felt the glow of the fireplace, when that terrifying vision faded, and you returned to reality, to a snowy ground on which you knelt.

“Gods…” you sighed, trying to stand up, turning to see Donna at the door, watching in silence. “You…” you said, hissing, climbing the stairs of the entrance. “Why did you do this to me!?” you yelled furiously, throwing yourself against her, hitting her shoulders in desperation.

Her arms grabbed you, preventing you from hitting her as hard as you would have liked, screaming, finally bursting into rage and inconsolable crying.

“Why?! Why, why, why? Gods…, Gods…” you lamented while she held you, silent, without saying anything.

“Calm down, (Y/N),” the woman in black said, holding you tighter, unable to control you. “Calmati!”

“I don't want to calm down,” you hissed, laughing nervously, shaking your head, but stopping moving. “Come on, go ahead, my lady, punish me for betraying you, rape me, kill me, do whatever you want with me, I don't care anymore… ask me to kneel, my lady, I won't bite you, my lady…”

“Will you shut up? Come,” she demanded, pulling on your arm, dragging you to her reading corner and dropping you on a couch. “Stay there, sit down.”

You were terrified, you knew it was your end, or so you thought.

After a few seconds, the lady in black sighed, sitting slowly next to you, in silence, bringing her hand to the black veil that covered her face, removing it with a terrifying calm.

You didn't say anything. You just sobbed confused, without understanding anything, feeling something inside you seeing her face again, something you didn't want to feel.

Donna left her veil carefully folded on the table and looked at you with a cold, but sad expression.

“I know you were there that day. I know you saw my face,” she began, with a nervous, but calm tone, far from her usual attitude. “I saw you in the reflection of the mirror.”

You didn't answer. You simply dried your tears, nodding slowly.

“I...”

“Shut up,” Donna interrupted you, frowning, being expressive, really expressive for the first time. “You... you ran away from me, you hid, thinking I hadn't seen you.”

“Yes, but…” you stammered, trying to clear your voice.

“Why?” she asked, without waiting for your answer, or an explanation. “Did I scare you? Did my face scare you? Why, (Y/N)?”

“What? I, I didn't…” you murmured confused, trying to order your mind. “I just… I didn't want to disappoint you.”

The ventriloquist simply nodded, attentive.

“I… I knew I should have made sure you weren't in the workshop, I knew I was forbidden to sneak into your room without permission and yet I did it and… I was, I was afraid…”

“Afraid of me,” she finished the sentence for you, a wrong sentence.

“Yes… no,” you said nervously. “Not the way you may think, Donna. Uhg, damn… my only goal was… not to let you down and I thought that… that I had done wrong and that you would be angry for having disobeyed you and… what nonsense…”

The lady in black smiled wryly, the first smile you saw on her face. Then, she shook her head repeatedly, getting up from the chair and pacing erratically from one side to the other.

“You know? I preferred another explanation,” she murmured, starting to get nervous. “I preferred you to tell me that I scared you, that my face scared you, that I scared you… because… because… Because that's what I thought!”

“What…?” you asked, backing away on the couch.

“A monster, right? That's what I am, that's what I thought I was to you… That's what you thought? Fine, then I would be a monster! You never thought like that, right? I wish I hadn’t made you hallucinate, I wish I still thought that everything I did was to protect myself,” she said distractedly, talking to herself, rather than addressing you.

“But no… it wasn’t that, you weren’t afraid of me, you were afraid of… letting me down? Oddio… letting me down!? You!? You were the only good thing that had ever happened to me in life and I…”

“Donna,” you said, watching her mind destabilize again. “How could you think that I…? If I hid like a coward it's because I've always been told…”

“That you're good for nothing,” she finished, wiping the sweat from her forehead, alternating moans of laughter and crying. “I know, I was there, listening to the stupid things you thought you were saying to your parents.”

“You don't understand, you don't understand what it's like to be despised for everything, to never be good enough for anyone, to believe that you do nothing but disappoint people,” you said, gaining some courage. “Everything I've done has been to please you, even if you… if you became the monster that everyone talks about.”

“I became a monster long before I met you, (Y/N) and… now…” Donna said, laughing hysterically again. “And now I've lost you! Cazzo… What have I done!? What have I done!?”

The lady doubled over, falling to the floor on her knees, completely submissive. Out of the corner of your eye, you glanced at the front door and thought of taking advantage of the situation to escape, but something stopped you, something you hadn't felt since the last time Donna said something kind to you.

“(Y/N), I beg you, forgive me, please, please!” she shrieked, crawling across the floor until she reached your lap. “I never wanted to hurt you! I beg you, forgive me!” the lady pleaded over and over again, grabbing your hands tightly, too tightly, making you hiss in pain.

“Donna, you, you’re hurting me…” you said, yanking your hand away, letting the lady bury her head in your lap while you were increasingly confused.

“I beg you, please don't leave... stay with me, please, forgive me, forgive me...” she repeated with an agonizing sob, wetting your uniform with her tears.

“Donna, I...” you said nervously, not knowing what you really wanted, if you were capable of giving her another chance, if things could be like before.

“I don't deserve anything, (Y/N), but, but... can you forgive me? Please...” your lady insisted, looking up, sending a gleam of sincerity to your eyes, a very deep wound in her heart.

“I... I-I don't know, Donna,” you confessed, closing your eyes, letting her hands grab yours again. “The things you've done to me... I... I can't promise you anything.”

“I know… I know,” she sighed, slowly getting up, wiping away her tears “Io… Io…”

“Donna,” you said, getting up too, moving your hand to her cheek, starting a moment of silence, one in which you dedicated yourself to admiring her beauty, the pain in her gaze, the regret. “Donna, I… I would love to say that I forgive you, that things will be like before but, I can't.”

She, terribly hurt, nodded slowly, closing her eye at your touch.

“At least, not now…” you added, making her stop sobbing and quickly raise her gaze. “Just give me some time.”

“S-so… you… will you stay with me?” she asked desperately, to which you nodded, without removing your hand from her face.

You couldn't say it was easy to stay, to forget everything that had happened, but for some reason you forced yourself to try.

Little by little everything went back to normal. The lady in black stopped screaming, intimidating you, to return to her kind words, to a feeling of guilt that forced her to treat you much better.

You couldn't complain, but you couldn't forget. You spent weeks meditating, thinking about how things were at that point. The veil disappeared forever, and maybe that helped you see the Donna you knew again, to remove the word monster from your thoughts every time they focused on her.

You didn't know very well why, but those bad moments gradually disappeared from your head. Donna was another woman; she became thoughtful, kind and loving. Your mind told you that you couldn't forgive her, but you knew that your heart had done so a long time ago.

The closeness went far beyond the limits of friendship, and finally, you decided to let yourself go with what you had been feeling for a long time. It wasn’t an easy task to admit that you had fallen in love with her, that maybe you had always been, not after everything that happened.

Forgetting was wise, they once told you, and that's what you did, leaving the darkness behind and looking for the light.

“(Y/N)... perché?” Donna asked, confused when your lips acted on their own kissing hers while you cooked together.

You shrugged, pretending that nothing had happened, smiling and licking your lips at the softness and innocence of that kiss.

“Well, I've been wanting to say what I feel for you for a long time, but the truth is, all I could think of was cheesy nonsense,” you said jokingly, glancing sideways at the stunned lady, who placed her fingers on her lips.

“I-I like cheesy nonsense,” the lady said quickly, pulling you away from the stove and gently taking your hands. “And I… I…” she stammered, blinking nervously.

“Shh, breathe, Donna, come on, you can do this…” you said softly, encouraging her to confess, to say what you both knew. “Would you like to kiss me again?”

“Y-Yes…” she whispered embarrassed, smiling like an innocent child.

“Mm, okay, then… tell me, what do you feel for me?” you mocked, taking advantage of that moment of weakness.

“Oh, well I… I…”

“Come on, you know I'm shy… you have to do it,” you continued joking, playing with her hands, making her laugh nervously.

“I-I don't know how to do it…” she said, with her cheeks red, unable to hold your gaze.

“Say whatever comes to your mind, tell me, what do you feel when I'm with you?” you said, playing with a lock of her hair, feeling her body tremble more and more.

“Can't you start?” she asked, frowning.

“Mm, no, you owe me this,” you said smugly, resorting to a dirty, but effective trick.

“W-Well, I… I feel good next to you, my heart beats so fast and… and when I look at you I feel… I feel…” she started, looking away, something that you stopped with a soft grip on her cheeks. “I feel regret… for everything that happened and…”

“Shh, don't talk about it now,” you whispered in her ear, to which she nodded slowly. “Tell me what you feel when I do this.” You lowered your voice, bringing your hand to her cheek, caressing her face, her scar, as much as you could, enjoying the touch, enjoying the Donna you knew. “Come on…”

“I feel good, (Y/N), I feel like… I want to kiss you, I love you and… I'm dying to make love to you, and kiss you again and…”

“Hey, okay, okay…” you laughed amused, kissing her quickly. “Donna, I… I love you too and… I, I would like to be with you, do you want the same?”

“It’s the only thing I want,” she whispered, staring at you, devouring you with a deep, tender kiss. “I just, I just want to take care of you and love you… show you that you are everything to me…”

“Come,” you said, turning off the stove and dragging the lady into the bedroom, ready to affirm your feelings, to be everything to her, to be everything with her.

“What are you doing?” the lady asked as you took off your apron, letting it fall seductively on the floor.

“Well… you said you wanted to make love to me…” you purred, letting the euphoria of the confession take you gently, naturally.

“Yes, well, but, but…” Donna said timidly, terribly embarrassed. “I-It doesn't have to be right now, but when you're ready and, besides, I… I…” Her clumsy words were silenced with a soft, tender and at the same time ardent kiss.

“Donna, I'm your maid, do you really think I don't know what's under that dress of yours?” you joked, running your fingers to the buttons of her dress, avoiding looking at her.

“Certo, but, I…” she interrupted, grabbing your wrists gently. “I don't want to force you.”

“You don't, Donna… you see… so many things have happened… we've missed so many moments. I just want to have it all, I don't want to wait, I want you to make me yours, I want to be yours forever.”

“Does that mean…?” the lady added, slowly lowering your hands, looking at you expectantly. “Do you forgive me?”

“That means… that I love you, Donna Beneviento,” you whispered, before capturing her lips again, fiercely, without giving her time to think.

They were the last words heard in the bedroom. The next thing you heard were eager kisses, sounds of wood creaking under your feet as you moved to the bed, not wasting a second, kissing, touching, caressing everything your hands could reach, living in the moment, forgetting the past.

“Hey, wait,” you said, with your body already naked, with her erection pressing into your skin and her gaze full of lust.

“What's wrong, tesoro?” Donna asked, breathing heavily, repressing her lust to listen to you.

“Nothing, just... just be gentle, okay? It's my first time,” you said caressing her cheek, moving your body to rub against hers as she nodded, kissing you in a sweet way, unthinkable for the monster the rumors spoke of.

“Va bene,” she whispered, letting herself be carried away by her impulses but controlling the desire she had to take you.

The pain didn't last too long. She kept her word, being careful, respectful, entering you gently, allowing your body to adjust enough so as not to be a nuisance, so as not to be an unwanted intruder.

A smile spread across your face as her shaft caressed your walls, while soft moans and whispers in Italian filled all your senses. All the memories flashed through your mind, only the good ones, how you had managed to never fail her, how she regretted her actions.

You loved her, she loved you, you probably always loved each other, but that damn black veil blinded you both.

“I-I love you, (Y/N),” she said hastily, moaning in pleasure, holding your legs, your hips, your face, placing her lips on your neck as she took you calmly, without losing her nerves, without losing the love in her gaze.

“Donna, I love you so much…” you moaned, feeling your body writhe in pleasure, your hands pulling at the sheets as her thrusts intensified. It was just you two, one body and two hearts beating nervously, anxious to discover what the future would bring.

Your muscles tensed, your hands scratched her back as you felt your release running through every inch of your skin.

“Gods!” you moaned as you shook and poor Donna tried to keep you in place, as she was also close.

“(Y/N)… I… I'm going to…” the brunette murmured, growling wildly as she released herself inside you, as she culminated that act of love and passion that took too long to arrive.

The last thing you remembered was the caresses, the soft embrace of your naked bodies, the love you swore to each other that afternoon, and that would be forever.

Back in the present…

“(Y/N), (Y/N), tesoro,” Donna's voice brings you back to reality and, as if you had just woken up from a dream, you shook your head.

“Oh, sorry, I got distracted,” you apologize, finishing your tea, now cold.

“Mm, what were you thinking about?” the lady asks, kissing you carelessly before returning to the dress she was making.

“Mm, about us, you know, about everything we've lived,” you say without fear, making a sincere smile appears on her face. “Hey, Donna, I realized that I've never told you one thing.”

“Mm?” she asks, now giving you all her attention, kindly taking your hands, with a certain air of concern. “Amore mio, what's wrong?”

“Oh, nothing, nothing,” you say, shaking your head. “You already know, but I'd like to tell you.”

“Um, what?” Donna wants to know, frowning.

“Donna, no matter what happened between us, I… I love you, and I want to be with you, I'm so happy by your side that I haven't even been able to tell you before but… Donna, I forgive you.”

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

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