#fleeing from Donna

[bobbie-robron]

Eeks! Gotta skedaddle!!

[thisgirlnamedblusy]

Hello! I hope you are having a lovely week! I always enjoy seeing your writings! (Lowkey I have notifs on for whenever you post)

But I was wondering if you could do a Donna X reader (gp or not if fine with me) where reader is very shy and timid but is very feral and lewd when they do make love? The first time it really throws Donna off but she ends up really loving this side of the reader

Yessss!!!! Thank you for your kind words, and for your request!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!! :)))

Contradiction

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem! Reader

Warnings: G!P Donna, smut, Minors DNI

Word count: 5,969

Summary: You were supposed to be shy, were you?

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

The evening light illuminated the old hall in a cozy, almost romantic way. Your erratic steps interrupted the constant calm of the place that seemed abandoned, and, as of just a few weeks ago, would never be.

You were born as one more girl, one more pawn in the sinister games of that village. You were not worthy of being a maiden, you didn’t have enough charisma to trade, you were a lost soul, a wandering soul that spent time looking for its place.

In solitude, you grew larger, in the crowd you shrank, that was the perverse rhythm that destiny had established for you, even if, in your deep and inevitable shyness, you hid certain aspects that never saw the light, that remained hidden under blushes, under hoarse words and embarrassed laughter.

But that boring life, condemned to ostracism by your own personality, would soon undergo a change, one that in your sleepless nights, you projected into the darkness of your own isolation.

In your life there were duties that you could not ignore, worshipping Mother Miranda, the Black Gods, was one of them. Every week you went to the same church, you saw the same faces you didn’t want to meet. People, people overwhelmed you, as did those boring and apocalyptic sermons.

But there was something, a black shadow that attracted your attention and clouded the words of the priestess. It was not a shadow, or so you thought. No.

Very close to you, just in the right place for your eyes to wander, the four Lords of the village sat, waiting, silently worshipping the words of the bird woman.

Was it the owner of the castle that caused your eyes to wander? No.

 Maybe that deformed being that lived in the swamp? No, of course not.

Maybe the sardonic smile of Lord Heisenberg was making you unable to look away? Not at all.

No, among those four Lords, silent rulers of your boring lives, stood that black shadow, that woman in mourning who seemed to be nothing but a shadow among the candles: Donna Beneviento.

The most disturbing expression of what fear was for the villagers, doll maker, a silent woman, letting out her emotions through that sinister puppet.

Day after day, you searched for that shadow, that feeling that passed through your body when you believed your eyes matched hers. There was something about her that attracted you, attracted you very much.

Fantasies of a withdrawn young woman, or so you thought, you thought that somehow, her gaze hidden under that horrible black veil, also began to search for yours.

Everything else came unexpectedly: a shy approach, a few kind words in a hoarse voice, conversations that grew longer and longer…

After several months of playing at not escaping, of not fleeing from her lavender perfume when that dark figure stood in front of you, love arose, your loneliness ended, your lips knew hers and your eyes knew that hidden beauty you already sensed.

A deformity in her face, a change in her body. None of her cowardly warnings were enough to stop you from wanting to venture into an unexpected but desired romance.

A short time later, when the visits to the old estate became longer and longer, Donna, curiously being the one who managed to take small steps, the one who fought with your shyness as well as with her own, asked you to live with her.

And there you were days after that decision, the best decision of your life.

Your walk in the dark hallways was a balm for your body's trembling. It was a game of approach before seeing her beauty again, calm, sitting on the sofa, reading a book.

“Donna,” you said in a small voice, drawing the attention of the lady in black, giving you one of her wonderful smiles.

“Hello, tesoro, where have you been?” she asked, motioning for you to sit next to her. You, noticing that your cheeks had already taken on a pinkish tone, walked slowly, avoiding getting lost in her gaze.

“I was, I was walking,” you whispered, sitting next to her, with a smile that she returned before placing a soft caress on your lips, a soft kiss that always made you smile embarrassedly.

“Mm, were you running away from Angie again?” she asked amused, stealing another quick kiss from you to which you didn't have time to react to. Shaking your head softly, you laughed again, letting her hand drag yours closer, just a little bit closer.

“Hey, I didn’t do anything!” the doll yelled, climbing onto the couch next to you. You recoiled at the puppet’s defiant stance.

If you were shy, and so was Donna, Angie was basically the opposite.

“I, I didn’t say you did anything, Angie,” you said quietly, stuttering, as you always did when you were overcome by the threat of a conversation with someone other than Donna.

“Shh, Angie, lasciala stare…” Donna murmured, pushing the doll away with a gentle flick of her wrist.

Donna was your savior. She was the only one who understood the limits of your innate shyness, well, almost all of them. Even Donna, the love of your life, the only person you were capable of loving, was unaware of some dark aspects of your personality, some that had not yet come to light.

“What...? What did you say to her?” you asked curiously, leaning a little closer to that black dress, playing with your trembling hands.

Donna laughed, looking away from the book and raising your chin with her fingers. She was always so soft, so delicate...

“I told her to leave you alone,” the lady whispered in a tender voice, capturing your lips again, causing the blush on your cheeks to be more evident.

“Oh, of course... I... I'm, I'm sorry,” you apologized, embarrassed by your clumsiness, by not understanding those melodic words that made you melt.

“Why are you sorry?” she asked, frowning and settling down on the couch, wrapping one hand around your waist, forcing your head to rest on her chest.

“I, I still can't understand you,” you admitted, closing your eyes, intoxicated by her perfume, by her soft caresses.

“Tesoro…” Donna said, laughing softly, touched by your sweetness. “Nobody asked you to understand me…”

“I, I know but… Well, you, you asked me to come to your house and… Well, I think, I think that I…” you stammered again, playing erratically with the buttons of her dress, almost without realizing it.

“(Y/N), don't worry about anything, okay?” she said, laughing tenderly again, lowering her lips to your hair. –Do you want to read with me?

You smiled and sighed in relief, embarrassed again by your shyness, by your clumsy words. Donna said she was shy but… You were the most shy one there.

“Su, sure, what are you reading?” you asked, clearing your throat and adjusting your position. Donna frowned, turning the book she was holding with an amused gesture.

“Plants from Northern Romania,” she said disinterestedly, turning a page where were hundreds of flowers.

“Oh, it’s… Interesting,” you sighed, trying to sound sincere.

From her nervous laugh and the return of her caresses to your body, you deduced that she obviously didn’t believe you.

“You little liar…” she said amused, caressing you more intensely, pulling your body so it was even closer to hers. “I know it’s boring.”

“Oh, I’m, I’m sorry,” you apologized again, focusing your gaze on the book and not on her amused expression.

“Stop apologizing, (Y/N), it was just a joke,” the lady in black whispered in a more serious tone. You nodded, closing your eyes, trying to breathe more calmly. You were a complete mess.

“I'm sorr…” you said, thinking coldly and falling silent before finishing the sentence under her mockingly raised eyebrow. “I didn't say anything.”

Donna laughed and shook her head, turning another page of the book, sighing, you supposed in a romantic way, as her hand went from your back to your hair, caressing it while she focused again on that boring essay.

Her soft hands caressing your skin, your neck, unintentionally awakened that part of you, that part hidden among blushes, among stammers and shy smiles. The part that constantly contradicted itself, that made you feel things you didn't think possible for someone like you.

You gasped, feeling an almost overwhelming pleasure in her soft caresses, in the intoxicating sensation of her company, of her beauty so impossibly close to you.

“Does it make you uncomfortable, tesoro?” she asked, noticing how you subtly squirmed every time her fingers ran over your skin, every time the heat of her body was close to yours.

“Oh, no, no, it's just that…” you said, moving away from those hot caresses, preventing them from adding fuel to the dark desires of your subconscious. “It's just that you’re tickling me.”

“Am I?” Donna asked, amused, pulling her hand away at the sight of your uncomfortable smile, which really wasn't that uncomfortable. “You're very sensitive, (Y/N).”

“Yes, I am,” you said, nodding, standing a bit away, biting your lip to suppress the things that were going through your head, those things you wanted to do for a long time.

“You're nervous, why?” she asked, closing the book and turning to face the blush on your cheeks again.

“No, I... Simply, I'm just, I'm cold,” you lied, pretending to shiver.

Donna nodded with a frown, looking at the lit fireplace, at that fire that crackled to calm the horrible cold of that place. You closed your eyes again at your clumsy answer.

“Something's worrying you,” she said, without looking at you, sighing confused and a bit nervous. “Please, tell me.”

“No, it's nothing, it's just that... Well, you're right, that, that book is a bit... Boring,” you said, laughing shyly, bringing out your best version of a lying young girl, one that you used only in cases of emergency, to hide your true thoughts, those that you didn't want to see the light.

“Okay,” the lady in black sighed suspiciously, patting her knees and walking towards one of the many bookshelves in that house. “Come, (Y/N).”

You, who already believed were free of that interrogation, obeyed slowly, with your gaze fixed on the wooden floor, until her hand extended towards yours in a loving manner.

“Choose the one you want,” she told you lovingly. “I'm sure you can do it better than me.”

“Mm…” you murmured, running your hands along the covers of those old books. You didn't understand most of them and there were others, others that simply weren't where they should be.

The lady in black frowned as she followed your hand wandering around the bookshelf. All the blood in your body froze, your legs trembled discreetly: she had noticed.

“Strano…” she murmured, getting a little closer to the gaps between several books. “Here, here there should be…”

“Maybe it was Angie,” you said abruptly, unintentionally showing that you were the one to blame for those gaps.

Donna looked at you with a half-smile, tilting her head comically.

“Angie?” she asked amused, shaking her head. “I don't think so. I doubt she's interested in those books.”

“Why?” you asked, with your best innocent girl face, one that you already had naturally, and could use in your defense.

“Well, it's just that… Those books are…” Donna answered, scratching the back of her neck, swallowing your absent-mindedness like a glass of water, ignoring your nervous signs. “A bit… Spicy, you know.”

“Wow,” you said with a shy smile, with your cheeks red as blood, with your hands shaking, trying to go unnoticed. “I, I didn't know you read that… Kind of books, Donna.”

She laughed a bit shy too, putting a hand on your shoulder and leaning closer to your ear.

“Why wouldn't I?” she whispered seductively.

“Well, because... Because...” you stammered, abruptly moving away from her sensual whispers, ones you already knew, that desperately asked to take the next step, although she never asked you directly.

“Sex is something natural, it's not a bad thing,” she said in a more serious tone, moving away when she saw your discomfort, closing her eye as if she had regretted her words. “Hey, I, I didn't mean...”

“I know,” you interrupted, shaking your head and gasping nervously, softly kissing her cheek to calm her nerves, and yours.

You had to run away, to avoid the conversation from going any further.

“Mm, what do you think of this one?” you said in a more natural voice, taking an old book from the shelf and handing it to the brunette, who looked at the title and then at you with a confused look.

“Il Nome della Rosa…” she read with a mocking smile. You nodded innocently, unaware of your mistake. “But, but this one is in Italian… You, you won't understand it, tesoro…”

“Oh, well, of course, I…” you murmured, nervous again, with your cheeks burning and your heart beating hard. “Well, but, but I want to learn… If it's not a bother for you, of course.”

“Of course it’s not, amore mio,” she said, coming closer to steal another kiss from you, a slower one, a comforting one.

What was the reason for that awkward moment? What evil act was hiding your nervousness? Well, it was time to explain what your mind was keeping so tightly.

Yes, you were born with a lack of charisma, with an innate lack of desire to express yourself with others, to interact with them. But, as if the Black Gods themselves had cursed you with that horrible contradiction, your thoughts were far from innocent or shy.

Sex, the ultimate expression of love between two people was always a topic that passed near you, which life's circumstances forced you to ignore. But ignorance or lack of knowledge was something you could not allow yourself.

Since you were old enough to think about such things, you became shamefully curious, listening to the little adventures of a group of young people whispering in church. Adventures that talked about making love, about that way of loving you began to be fascinated by.

Of course, you never had the chance to get out of that circle of lustful curiosity. You were still the shy and embarrassed (Y/N). But the interest increased and the conversations of those young women began to not be enough.

That passion, the heat, the heat of two naked and embracing bodies began to appear in your dreams, in the darkness of your sleepless nights.

When you met Donna you didn’t think about it, the love you were beginning to feel had clouded your senses and your own hidden thoughts. But, as time went by, you realized that the blurred images that appeared in your dreams began to take shape. It was no longer two naked, unknown bodies. It was you and Donna, immersed in a sea of ​​moans, caresses, scratches on a sweaty back.

Unfortunately, the visible part of your personality, that shyness of poor (Y/N), prevented your wishes, and surely, hers, from coming true.

She never pressured you. The few times she hinted with her kisses or soft caresses on your legs she wanted to merge with you, your nervous and scared expression had forced her to back away.

Yes, you wanted to know what it felt like to be loved like that, but at the same time you felt like you had to know more, that you had to be what Donna expected of you.

So, now, the confession: You picked up those books, those erotic stories that talked in all kinds of detail about that act of lust, the act that just thinking about it, turned your legs into soft, smooth butter.

When Donna was in her workshop and Angie didn't feel like bothering you, you immersed yourself in those stories, in those erotic phrases, in those fictional caresses that you wanted to make real. The wait was reaching an almost unbearable point, like a fight between angels and demons. One part of your conscience prevented you from acting, the other one almost forced you to do it.

Normally good won over evil, just like that same afternoon when her caresses stirred those feelings again. But that conversation, the revelation of your lascivious theft, pushed that lustful demon to make you tremble, to make the words come out of your mouth on their own.

“I took them,” you said in a choked voice, taking a breath before speaking, letting that wait recede and fade away with your embarrassing confession.

“Excuse me?” Donna asked, obviously confused as she leafed through the book you wanted her to read to you. “What are you talking about, tesoro?”

“The, the books, I took them,” you confessed once again, clenching your fists and looking away. Donna moved the book in her hands and shook her head, frowning.

“You…” she sighed incredulously, looking at you as if she didn’t trust you. You couldn’t blame her for that.

You had been waiting for too long, too long.

“Yes, I love reading those stories,” you said with a smile, ignoring the burning in your throat, the trembling in your legs and the red tone of your cheeks.

Donna laughed nervously, her mouth half open at that unexpected confession.

“I, I didn't know, (Y/N),” she stammered, blinking repeatedly, with a strange shine in her eye. “I thought you…”

The anxiety gave way to a slight anger. Yes, you were the shy and bashful (Y/N), but the demon that was dormant inside of you had just awakened.

“What did you think, Donna? That because I'm a shy and bashful girl I couldn't like sex, or be interested on it?” you asked with a dark look, approaching her, who slowly backed away until her back hit the bookshelf. Her look was worthy of portraying.

“No, I… No…” the lady stammered, watching your sensual walking as you approached, putting your hands on both sides of her body, cornering her by surprise. “(Y/N)… Are… Are you okay?”

“I’m perfectly fine, Donna,” you said with a different voice, confident, with that lascivious demon controlling every part of your body. “What about you? You're shaking.”

“You, you’ve scared me, (Y/N),” she said, looking at you with distrust. “You're not normally that…”

You didn't let her finish the sentence.

 You quickly launched yourself at her lips, capturing them in a new, wild, passionate way. Donna was surprised by your attitude, but she accepted your kisses with pleasure, sighing relaxed by your lack of shyness.

“Do you like it?” you asked, brushing against her lips, with your hands traveling to her waist, pulling her so the fabrics of your dresses mixed together. “I like it.”

She, still impressed, nodded slowly, not resisting the temptation to kiss you again, to catch your lower lip gently with her teeth while your hands gripped her hips, pulling them, forcing her body to dance to yours.

“Wait, (Y/N),” the lady interrupted, shaking her head, as if she had suddenly woken up from a lucid dream. “Wait, tesoro…”

“I don't want to keep waiting,” you said, biting your lip, with your hands moving up her torso, pushing her chest so that her back hit the shelf again. “Donna, I want to make love.”

“Oh, um... Okay, um…” Lady Beneviento stammered, with a nervous laugh and the same blush as you on her cheeks.

“You don't want to?” you asked nervously about the doll maker's attitude.

How did you expect her to react? You had been running away from her advances for a long time.

“Yes, yes I… Sure, of course I want to but…” she said, stopping your caresses with her body, holding the book at the same time as your wrists “(Y/N), are you sure?”

“What do you think?” you said amused, with a completely changed look, dark, sinister, as if an evil spirit had possessed you.

“I, I don't know… It's just that… So, so suddenly I…” she said, with a frightened look, with her hands shaking, dropping the book irremediably on the wood.

When she nervously bent down to pick it up, you stopped her with a hand on her shoulder.

“Wait, I pick it up,” you whispered, bending down slowly in front of the trembling lady, taking your time to get down to the floor, watching as her body passed before your eyes, as the fabric of her dress deformed in the place you wanted.

“What are you doing?” Donna asked with a frown, watching how your body refused to get up, how your wild head thought of a thousand ways to let out the lust that was in your mind.

“Taking the book,” you said jokingly, showing the object in your hand, but without getting up, with very dirty ideas forming in your mind.

“Of, of course,” she stammered, looking away because of that uncomfortable position, because of that sudden closeness of your body to hers, because of that closeness so not innocent, not typical of you.

“I can stay here if you want,” you whispered, running your hands over her legs, leaving the book on the floor and getting on your knees.

“Oh, no, I… (Y/N),” the lady said nervously, looking away as your hands went up relentlessly, as they pulled her trembling legs until they were too close to you. “What, what are you going to do?”

“What do you want me to do, Donna?” you asked back, earning another of her nervous laughs as she looked both ways, looking for a way out of your treacherous trap. There wasn't one, your demon was loose.

“(Y/N), what…?” she asked, when your fingers came together at her waist, when your curious caresses touched the bulge between her legs, the erection your strange behavior provoked.

“Mm,” you murmured, pleased by the response of her sensitive body. You had been imagining that reaction for a long time, that desire living in the brunette, and that she repressed so as not to make you feel uncomfortable, or pressured.

It was your turn to make her nervous, and you were starting to enjoy it.

“It's so hard...” you commented with a lascivious voice, without stopping touching that forbidden area, causing Donna to gasp nervously, putting her hands on your wrists.

“Uh, no, don't say... What?” she asked confused, shaking her head at your wild, unexpected comment. “(Y/N)…”

“I like it, Donna…” you purred, letting the lady's nerves release your wrists and your suddenly naughty fingers slip through the edge of the bottom of her dress. “I want to know if it feels as good as it looks…”

“Hey, what are you…?” Donna asked again, gasping in surprise when your hands sank into her skirt, slowly pulling it down to reveal her desire unfairly squeezed by her underwear.

“It's big, huh?” you asked amused, unable to take your eyes off her erection, her trembling and at the same time anxious body.

“Oh, but, what, what's wrong with you?” the lady in black questioned with a tone that dangerously vacillated between annoyance and surprise. “You, you were supposed to be shy…”

“Do you want me to be shy?” you murmured, lowering the fabric that imprisoned her desire, releasing her throbbing erection under your nervous hands, under soft experimental caresses that made the powerful Lord moan.

“No,” she answered abruptly, her voice dry and cold, when your hands began to massage her shaft slowly while you licked your lips, waiting for that sensation you had read so many times, and that you knew was unmatched.

“Well then…” you whispered, slowly approaching the tip while your hand surrounded it and moved with a constant rhythm, calm, without hurry, allowing you to also enjoy that pleasure that Donna was receiving. “Shut up,” you ordered with dangerous eyes.

She laughed, but before she could protest, you placed your lips softly on her erection, giving small kisses around it, leaving Lady Beneviento speechless, unable to do anything but moan.

You also moaned when your mouth sank into her body, when the taste of her arousal came together with your hands, with your tongue, with everything you could cover in those slow but firm movements.

“Hey, (Y/N), cal, calmati…” she asked you, writhing against the shelf, letting her instincts speak for her, her hand tangling in your hair while you absorbed, licked and kissed every part of her shaft.

“Mm, no, I don't want to,” you said childishly before surrounding her with your lips again, making the lady throw her head back, moaning subtly, matching the movements of your head with her hips, with her hand gripping your hair, keeping you in that place.

“(Y/N)…” Donna moaned, slowly losing control of her body, giving in to the soft caresses of your tongue on her erection.

She seemed completely overwhelmed by the pleasure she felt and that, that made you moan from the tickling you felt between your own legs.

You only responded with a gasp as you took a breath before caressing, only with your hands her penis shining by her own desire. A little nervous by that sudden attitude, you sought her gaze, which she granted you with a mixture of passion and comfort, letting you know with that bright eye that everything you did caused her an immense pleasure.

“Do you want me to continue?” you asked, with a calmer tone, trying to control the moisture you felt between your legs, that small discomfort that her soft moans, his incomprehensible whispers, caused you.

“I... Yes, (Y/N), please,” she said with a hoarse voice, guiding your head back to her erection, moaning when she regained contact, when she felt your mouth surrounding, kissing her body again.

You laughed inside, and out, grabbing her hips to gain some stability as your movements slowly became more complicated, going deeper, the obscene sounds of your actions matching your moans.

“Wait, wait, stop,” she said, pushing you away with the hand holding your head, with a nervous growl. You looked at her amused, knowing what the erratic movements of her hips and her hurried moans meant.

“Why? Are you going to…?” you asked, pouting, proud of the brunette's nervous situation, of being able to see on her cheeks the blush that always adorned yours.

Donna nodded, closing her eye in embarrassment and gesturing for you to get up.

“I don't want to do it, (Y/N), not like this,” she whispered, cupping your face in her hands, speaking in a complicated way when your wild kisses allowed it.

“How do you want to do it, my love?” you asked, with a knot in your stomach, with shyness slowly returning to your feelings, something you couldn't allow.

“I want to love you, tesoro, love you the way you deserve,” Donna said, separating from you, fleeing from your kisses and pulling you towards the old sofa. You smiled tenderly, your cheeks burning again in embarrassment.

That was you, the living image of contradiction.

“Please, lay down,” Donna asked you, pointing at the couch. You, frustrated at having lost control, sighed and obeyed, pulling her wrist so she could do the same.

“If you think you have control just by being on top…” you said, panting among more furious kisses, with the fabric of your dress threatening to tear with her caresses, with her hungry scratches. “…You're wrong, Donna.”

That phrase made the lady stop, looking at you with a half-smile, with a bright and confused eye, but that seemed pleased by your attitude.

“Who are you and what have you done with (Y/N)?” she asked amused, undoing one by one, the buttons on the top of her dress.

“Do you like the new me?” you asked nervously, helping the black fabric to reveal her pale skin, running your hand over the softness of her chest.

Donna, sighing, joining her hand with yours, joining in that curious exploration of her skin, shook her head.

“I like you, (Y/N),” she replied softly, leaning in to kiss you, only to be caught again in a tangle of kisses, of caresses.

Your breathing was intense, the sound of kisses bouncing off the old walls. The desperation of her hands forced them to quickly pull down your dress, not wanting to waste a second, wanting that poetic justice of having your body under hers, naked in the same way.

Her lips, trying to keep control over you, traveled over your exposed skin, her hands unclasped your bra, yours did the same.

The rest of the clothes disappeared as if it were a mist, as if a strange breeze had pushed the clothes away from your bodies.

Your hips burned against hers, her arousal brushing against your wetness. The kisses were messy, your teeth dominated her lips, her neck, the skin of her exposed breasts. There was nothing left that was not conquered by your mouth, by your anxiety, by that release of your shy and withdrawn being.

As much as she tried, fiercely squeezing your breasts, digging her nails into your back, she was not able to match your lustful hunger, your wet kisses that ran over her skin, the hands that scratched her hips, her buttocks, those hands that kept her close to you.

That uncoordinated dance of kisses and caresses led to a gentle stimulation between your legs. A soft finger ran through your wet folds, played with your clit. It was a preparation, the prelude to something wonderful, and you knew it you didn’t want to wait for.

“Donna, stop playing,” you said with a nervous gasp, betraying your desire, the desires of your lust, of your lascivious behavior. “Make me yours now.”

“But, but…” she protested, shaking her head, with a tender smile, as if she were warning you that it was not going to be pleasant.

You didn't care. It wasn't the first time something had made its way into your walls. You hadn't just read those books, your imagination wasn't just that, they were nights and moments of pleasure that you gave yourself.

Not wanting to give such a complicated answer like that, not wanting to acknowledge your hidden adventures, the journeys of your hands through your body, you took what you wanted with your hand, positioning it at your entrance, inevitably forcing it to slowly enter you.

“(Y/N),” Donna moaned, as the tip sank into your wetness, as your body embraced her erection in pleasure, letting it stretch, letting it slide smoothly, like a knife digging into butter. You just hoped you wouldn't melt.

“Yes, Donna, it's so... Big... So... Hard...” you murmured, shaking your head from side to side, unable to bear the pleasure you felt with her inside of you, the pleasure that caused cramps in your body when your walls stretched.

“You have such a dirty mouth,” she said with a sinister smile, her face changed, surely due to the pleasure of your body's embrace, a tight but soft, wet, warm embrace.

“You didn't know that?” you asked amused, making yourself more comfortable, moving your hips to see if hers dared to do the same. You didn't even pay attention to that brief pain.

No, the worried and scared (Y/N) had taken a vacation.

“Can I… Can I move?” the brunette asked, panting when she was completely inside of you, when her body trembled inside of yours. “Please…”

“You must,” you said, closing your eyes when her hips finally joined yours in a coordinated dance, in soft, careful, elegant thrusts. You knew that wouldn’t last long, that your anxious body would ask for more.

And so it was, your furious moans intensified at the same time as hers. The kisses, the caresses, the thrusts of Donna, everything formed a kind of paradise in your head, an ambrosia that you had just discovered and that you didn’t want to stop drinking.

Your body, lascivious but inexperienced, didn’t take long to give in to that divine pleasure, arching, forcing you to open your eyes and hug the brunette, to let her arms calming the intensity of your first orgasm, the first one shared, of course.

“Oh, Donna,” you moaned with a smile that she returned, relaxing her movements, not wanting to stimulate you too much. Once again she was wrong about you.

With a sigh, biting your lip in a playful way, you pushed her away from you, causing her to moan from the lack of contact, from the inability she had to release herself in the same way as you.

“Cosa fai?” she asked confused. “Te, tesoro, I was about to…”

A finger on her lips interrupted her complaints, followed by a wet kiss, one in which your tongue was the protagonist, as if it had tied hers, as if just with the caress of your lips, you were able to leave her speechless.

“I told you, that I… I was in control,” you whispered, pushing the lady with your hands on her chest, letting her fall back on the couch while you climbed up her hips, threatening like a predator stalking its prey.

Donna looked at you confused, but grabbed your hips with her hands, guiding you so your body sank into her erection again, causing a new wave of pleasure from that different position.

“Hands off,” you whispered in her ear, moving her nails away from your skin, grabbing her wrists so they rested on top of her head.

She blinked in confusion, nodding, breathing heavily as your body began to move subtly, slowly moving up and down and letting your walls play with her again.

“Do you like it that way?” you asked, picking up a comfortable rhythm, holding her wrists as your hips danced with hers.

“Yes, yes…” she replied in a whisper, before moaning at your soft internal caresses, going up to the limit and then coming back down slowly, experimenting, finding a way to make her moans less and less discreet.

Your own pleasure clouded your game of experimentation, making you move uncoordinatedly, noticing how her body trembled beneath yours, how her eye closed from the overwhelming pleasure you made her feel. The end was near and you were sure your back would arch again.

“(Y/N), sto… Sto per venire…” Donna whispered, releasing from the grip of her wrists and putting her hands on your hips, which let themselves be guided as she wanted.

 You had lost control.

“I don't understand you,” you mocked, stopping your movements on purpose, making her hands to do all the work, moving your body.

“Cazzo, (Y/N)!” the lady protested, about to explode with pleasure. “I'm, I'm telling you that I'm going… I'm going to…”

She didn't have time to finish the sentence. With a grunt, keeping your body motionless on hers, the heat of her release reached your insides, as if it were a spark that caused that tension in your muscles again, a cry much more desperate than the previous one.

The caresses of her heat on your body became a relaxing balm. The sound of your agitated breathing became calming, your eyes met, your smiles coincided.

“Wow… That was…” she said, helping you out, letting her warmth slide down your body. “(Y/N)…”

“What?” you said, leaning over, leaning on her, resting your head on her chest, with her hands lovingly playing with your hair.

“Unexpected,” Donna said, kissing your head, holding you tightly against her, as if deep down she knew you had never stopped being that shy girl.

“I… It's just that, I'm sick of being that way,” you confessed, sinking into her chest. Not sorry, but afraid of having lost which she adored, your apparent innocence.

“I like the way you are, (Y/N),” she whispered, with a calm voice, losing the lust she had minutes before.

“That lustful way? Or that shy way?” you asked.

“I like you either way, (Y/N)…”

[dragongirl642]

H-heya! Could i ask for an shy female dragon shifter reader with Lady D. and Donna? Like she's heavily injured by hunters and had to crash/land into their home because of it? How would they react or would they even help her?

(I Love Dragons but see most of the time only male dragon shifters uwu

I feel like both their initial reactions would be very similar to the other Male Dragon Shifter meeting post, (a.k.a: This post).

Alcina Dimitrescu

At first, all Alcina sees is the giant hole in her castle walls and the giant lizard in her hall and she goes into attack mode.

She aims for your injuries, so you curl into a spiky ball of scales and flame.

Turns out your scales are Alcina proof so unless you uncurl and she can get at the flesh beneath, she can't hurt you.

She may lose a limb to your flames.

She is incensed at your presence and forbids her daughters from going near the hall.

But you are very warm, you're inner fire counteracting the cold winds coming in through the hole in the wall, and the Dimitrescu daughters are attracted to the giant warm cuddly lizard.

You warn them off a few times, but they keep spouting curious questions and attempting to come close that eventually, once your natural regeneration has sealed the surface of your wounds, you allow them to sit between the spines on your tail and examine your claws. (You can easily turn and burn them if they pose a threat.)

Alcina is furious that her daughters disobeyed her and approached you, and yet equally furious that you are entirely different from the mindless beast she'd warned them against.

When she sees your human form for the first time, I see Alcina doing a complete 180, (compared to her reaction in the other post).

Oh, you're a Pretty Maiden?!?!?! Well why didn't you say! Come closer, let me look at you Darling. *bites you! bites you! bites you!*

Yeah, she will pretty much try and get you to let your guard down and then go for the CHOMP.

You fight her off of course, half-shifting is easy for you.

Now you can be a fire-breathing menace AND roam the halls.

You have gone hunting a few times, and you brought your kill back to the castle. Dripping blood on the carpet and sitting in her great hall tearing into carcasses like an animal. (Her children love that you let them feast on the leftovers after they've sat for a few hours.)

Alcina is sulking. She can't kill you, she can't eat you, she can't just sit back and let you stay without at least making a show of removing you without losing the respect and support of Mother Miranda.

But then said Mother Miranda shows up and is promptly sent off with burned wings.

Okay, now she's a little worried. She is not certain she could beat you even in her full mutant form and her daughters adore you for SOME REASON.

After several weeks, she looses it, storms into the hall and unleashes a verbal lashing her ancestors would be proud of. The effect is only slightly reduced by the fact that she bursts into frustrated tears and flees the room to go dramatically wallow in her sorrow.

Okay, now you feel kind-off guilty. You did crash into this woman's home, burn her boss, monopolise her daughter's attention, and ruin the carpets. Maybe you should do something to make up for all that.

You repair the walls the best you can, replaster over scratches in the walls, hunt down the castles cleaning supplies and soak the carpets in a potion of bleach and foaming soapy water before hanging them from the battlements to dry.

Your final act of apology comes in the form of draining the blood from your kills and leaving them in sealed jugs by her bedroom door, handwritten notes tied to the handles.

You are a new exciting variable and her daughters try to help by going to their mother and telling her about what you're doing.

Every day, you wait outside her doors for hours waiting for her to emerge.

When she finally does, it is to your offer of a truce. You are being hunted and will not leave this very conveniently guarded hiding spot, however, you can be useful and help her with her food supply.

She is doubtful when presented with the blood of animals, but when you acquire human blood through negotiating trades with the villagers she slowly starts to change her tune.

You're a smart pretty lady and you have presented her with a charming little solution to the problem of the future dwindling supply of villagers to feed from.

Alright, Alcina has come to the decision to be the merciful, graceful mistress of the castle who allows a poor hunted lady to stay with her. (Keep telling yourself that Alcina).

After a few months, it starts to feel a little more comfortable.

After a few more, it starts to feel normal.

She caught herself running her hand down your scales once, marvelling at how the light reflected, (she will forever deny that she did that).

You start to lay down your claim and soon have built up a new hoard of trinkets, and maids, and mutants. The glittering gem crowning your hoard, is Alcina herself, not that she knows yet.

Once you've established yourself and Alcina doesn't outwardly reject your claim, you become quite the homemaker.

You are fierce and strong and loving.

You provide the warmest cuddles known to man, or mutant.

You cook for your new family, catering for their 'special' diet is a little easier with your own predilection to a carnivore diet.

Alcina will brag to the other Lords about "her darling", "the dimitrescu dragon", "the second dimitrescu lady," but only out of earshot of Mother Miranda.

Donna Beneviento

Pretty much the same reaction as the other post...except she's a bit braver about approaching you due to seeing your obvious injuries.

She has several dolls in attack mode ready to go, (not that they would work against your flame.

You know you could easily incinerate this woman but you attempt polite conversation through gritted fangs. You ask about her hobbies, favourite foods, favourite colours, etc..., and offer your own answers in return.

The talk calms her and she seems less frightened and more welcoming.

It takes a few days for her to really trust you.

Oddly enough you get the feeling she liked you a little more after Mother Miranda visited and berated her for not eliminating the threat (you) before being quickly chased of by a living flamethrower (also you).

When you shift to your human form to make it easier, she's surprised and immediately more comfortable with you.

Donna knows a lot about medicinal plants but zero about dragon biology. You know all about dragon biology and zero about medicinal plants. Together you make one whole doctor...and figure out how to make medicine for your wounds. It's patchy and a little funny-smelling but it does the job (at least you both think it does). To be honest, your natural regenerative capabilities take care of most of the damage.

Angie tries to play doctor too but is, admittedly, more of a hindrance than a help.

Your injuries are haphazardly patched and a good long sit by a lit fireplace does the rest.

You know your hunters are still out there, but this remote village is hidden and safe for now.

You decide to stay just until you need to move on.

Okay, Donna was not prepared for guests but now she has one.

She makes you some basic new clothes to cover you up and you collect firewood whenever she needs more.

After a while, she feels inspired by the way your scales gleam in the firelight and excited at the prospect of having a new friend to play dress up with, Donna offers to make you some dresses. Dresses with holes and pins to accomodate your wings and tail, delicate lace fingerless gloves allowing your claws to shine through.

You accept the gifts only because she seems so eager and it would be rude to deny your host, (not because she's cute).

You do what you can for her in return. As it turns out you can cook more substantial food than tea party sandwiches; which Donna definitely appreciates.

The dolls unnerve you, but you learn to live with them.

You install more lights in the manor and fix leaks in the roof.

There are long talks by the fireplace. She reads to you sometimes.

After a few months, you and Donna starts to build a comfortable rhythm.

After a few more, it starts to feel homely.

You attend a tea party she holds for the other Lords. When someone (Heisenberg) makes a comment that has Donna cringing, you growl, a loud deep vibration that (along with the glow in your eyes and fire shining through the skin of your chest) instills fear in all attending. Donna now has scary dog (dragon) priviledge.

You tell yourself your protectiveness is because she's your benefactor (totally not because you have a crush on the pretty, shy dollmaker with a voice like honey and temperament to match).

Okay, who are you kidding, you want to claim a new hoard here...you want to stay with her.

After a few accepted offerings of food made from your hunted game, a few accepted cuddles, and the painstaking labour of building and decorating a new conservatory with an unfolding roof cover for stargazing, (which Donna immediately hugs you in thanks and immediately outfits with a planter full of herbs), you consider your claim accepted.

You are fierce and strong and loving.

You provide the warmest cuddles known to man, or mutant, (or doll).

Once she feels comfortable enough and like she has permission, Donna is so sweet with you.

You compliment and build her up, and soon her confidence soars.

Donna goes from one of the weakest Lords to the strongest.

You burn the creepy baby monster in the basement, it's the one thing you couldn't live with.

[morganas-pendragons]

ache | fourteen

this got away from me sooooooo quickly, I hope you like it!

The first time you met him, he didn't have to tell you how old he was. You were well versed in reading people. In distinguishing those hidden details between the lines, between the cracks of the person, and recognizing the little things no one else could bother to care about.

You knew he was old. You didn't know he was forever. You didn't know that he'd been running for so long that he'd never allowed himself to learn how to stop. To plant his feet in one place, to inhale, to exhale.

You didn't realize how much he craved you. How he craved you like the oxygen he has not breathed in since Gallifrey. Since the last time he allowed himself to simply exist without having to flee to the next destination.

The Doctor. The man who keeps running, because he dare not look back.

But with you... when he left you...

Oh, he did. You just didn't know.

Kate Lethbridge-Stewart found you in the aftermath of the Doctor's departure. You were sitting on the park bench where the TARDIS had last dropped you off, knees drawn to your chest and eyes blankly staring at the spot in hopes the box would materialize.

It never did. Every time you sat here and thought about it, about him, your chest ached so badly. Like it was seeking the oxygen it had been deprived of.

She'd sat beside you and waited until you turned your head to acknowledge her, "Whatever it is, I'm not interested. I'm waiting for a friend to come back."

There's so little hope in your voice. You know he's not coming back. You know, but you hope, because The Doctor can ease that ache in your chest and breathe that air back into your lungs.

You wish you hadn't been so impressionable. He'd flashed those marvelous brown eyes and that charming smile. That was all it took.

And when he'd laid those bleeding hearts in your hands, you'd let the blood run through your fingers and held them close to your chest. You'd protected them. Cherished them.

And then you'd thrown them back in the TARDIS. Left to fend for themselves. Left to bleed again.

The ache just won't go away.

"Your friend is a notorious runner," Kate remarks. "The likelihood is slim. However, I do have an opportunity for you that you could consider.. where he may show his face sometime soon enough."

You heard her out. She told you about UNIT, about The Doctor and his involvement, and you took the job when she offered it to you.

You saw him from afar multiple times after that. You never saw Ten again, but Ten would see you, parking the TARDIS out of sight multiple times before he changed faces because just seeing you eased the ache in his chest that had settled there when you were gone.

Then the one in the tweed with the bowtie. He was clever. Sweet. Kind. You saw him several times. Marveled at him from afar.

The ache got a little bit easier to deal with.

Then the next one. So much older. Older and angry and lonely and so, so ready to give up. That companion who'd gone with him sought you out the first time they came to UNIT together. Almost like she recognized you.

Turns out, Clara did.

"Hi," You turn to acknowledge the younger woman from your spot at your desk and smile warmly. "My name is Clara. Forgive me for the intrusion, but I have to ask you something."

"Come on in," You wave to the open chair with an empty hand and settle your tablet on your desk. You'd been reading up on the Doctor and all UNIT had gathered on him since you'd joined. There was a lot to sift through. "What can I do for you, Clara?"

"I thought you looked familiar. Then I remembered," She reached into her pocket and pulled out an old photo. You froze instantly at the sight and leaned outward to inspect it. "He's got a picture of you on the console."

It's definitely you. You and Ten and Donna, weeks after you'd joined them on the TARDIS, wrapped in your parkas and Ten in his trench coat on the Planet of the Ood.

"That is me," You whisper. Clara softened as you ran your fingers along the edge of the picture, turning it over to read the inscription on the back. That's Ten's handwriting. It's not yours. It reads, When the ache was gone. "I used to be just like you. I was so..."

Clara waited. She waited, but your voice never came, because then she was saying, "I just wanted you to know something. He talks about you. He hasn't done it a lot, but you're the only one he's got a photograph of on the console. I see the way he looks at it. And he's mentioned you a few times. The Doctor told me once that he's been in pain since you've been gone. And I don't think it's going to stop."

And then she's gone, and you're on your own again. She didn't even leave you the photo. She just leaves you to collect your thoughts and the fact that The Doctor has not been able to move on from you.

Silent tears track down your face. You would give anything to touch him. To hold him, to run your thumbs reverently under those ancient eyes, and just... tell him how loved he is.

But you can't.

He keeps running away.

***

He stops cold when he sees you inside of Unit HQ. You're standing there behind Shirley, so beautiful, and so very alive. He's only just come back from Soho.

From the Toymaker. From the nightmare, from the constant reminding that he failed you, failed them, failed all of them. All the ones who died.

"We hired Y/N as a liaison. Turns out hiring your companions has proven to be quite beneficial. They are something of experts, after all."

And then there's Mel, and it's all just too much because there are so many people in this room who love him. He doesn't deserve that love. There's too much weakness in this room. His hearts are bleeding everywhere and The Toymaker knows his weaknesses.

The Doctor will not let the ache infect him again. Not when you're standing less than three feet away from him for the first time in fifteen years.

You have no time to react before he's in front of you, and you can smell him, and he's everywhere and his fingers are lacing with yours.

Something shifts inside of your chest.

"I have so much to answer for," He murmurs lowly enough only for the two of you to hear. "And I know there's no universe in which you don't hate me for what I did-"

His whole affect shifts into something of despair when you step forward to fill the gap between you and grip his chin between your thumb and finger. There's so much pain in those eyes now. Pain from inevitable losses, pain from what he's done to you, pain from existence.

You just want to take his ache away. If you're going to do anything with the precious amount of time you two have, you are going to take those bleeding hearts back into your hands and fix them. And then you are going to hold him.

You are going to hold him with your bloody hands - because when does anyone who is ever associated with The Doctor not have blood on their hands? - and refuse to ever let him go.

It makes your ache less. It makes your pain less.

"There won't ever be a single instance in which you could make me hate you," You admit. "And you will have all the time in the world to tell me why you made me leave."

"The Toymaker. He... He preys on weaknesses. He will know. He always knows."

And it's on that moment that you see something you almost never saw with his Tenth face: Fear. He is terrified. That unnerves you.

Without thinking, you stand on your tiptoes and cradle his face in your hands as you kiss his forehead. It's tender. Reverent. Mel and Donna try not to gape as The Doctor leans in closer and remains there until you pull apart.

"Then don't let him," You say firmly. "And you go out there and you win."

***

"I'm all sonic and Timelord. Take that away... what am I? What am I now?"

Donna is reminded of one of the earliest trips she'd ever taken with Ten. Among the very first where she'd realized that he had fallen in love with you. There's faint memories of Pompeii, of the aftermath, when you'd followed The Doctor into the console room after he'd stormed in there asking the same question.

That time you'd answered him with all the gentleness she answers him now, "Take that all away, and you're still a good man."

The few moments that you get alone with Donna give her the opportunity to fill you in on what she'd learned from being inside The Doctor's mind. She tells you about Eleven and Twelve and Thirteen, about the ones who died, about The Flux. You hear all of it.

What makes the ache unbearable is the fact that when Ten died, he died alone. And that's the worst part.

Because you'd broken your promise that he'd never be alone again. Despite the fact he'd forced you out, you'd failed him.

And now here you stood.

"Hey," Donna's hand rests on your shoulder as your eyes flicker over to the Doctor, who now stands mere feet in front of the Toymaker. "You'll be with him soon enough."

Seconds after she says it, the air is pierced by a scream as the galvanizing beam activates, and it is shot straight through The Doctor. Mel's hand is going white from how hard you are gripping it.

"I played one game with the first Doctor, the second game with the second Doctor, and I will play the next game with the next Doctor!" The Toymaker exclaims boldly.

You don't realize you're the one screaming until the beam turns off.

He falls to his knees. The last time he'd done that that you had seen was when you walked out of the TARDIS. Defeat. Resignation.

You wait for the regeneration energy to appear. You're about to lose this face, again, and there's not a single thing you can do about it. Not until Donna's voice speaks up again and shouts, "He's not dying alone!"

"You can do what you like to me," You're speaking before you can stop yourself. "But I'm going to be with him. I keep my word. And I won't fail him again."

Mel nods her confirmation to both remarks. You steel your expression as you pursue Donna and Mel toward the Doctor. You cannot be falling apart right now. The ache is not allowed to consume you when it is him who is about to die, to change, to become another man.

Everything in the world around you disappears when you meet those eyes. Those kind, sad eyes that have always looked at you with such reverence and devotion. Those are the eyes of a man who you would burn the galaxies and all within it if it gives him some peace.

The words are on his tongue, so ready to be said. The ache has made the weight of keeping those words to himself unbearable.

He knows though. In that moment, he knows. He will love you eternally. No matter the face.

"It's okay," You say confidently. "It's okay."

"It's not dying."

"But you're going to be someone else." Mel interjects. The Doctor's eyes travel between the three of you. His former companion, his best friend, and his love. "It doesn't matter who. 'Cause every single one of you is fantastic."

He meets your eyes head on, and you rest a singular hand between his hearts.

"Here we go again," He murmurs. "Allonsy."

***

There are two of them. Two Doctors. The older one, the newer one, wears something you've never seen on The Doctor. He wears the mark of acceptance. Or peace.

Probably both.

But the way he looks at you? Oh, the way he looks at you. It's like he knows something that you and the younger Doctor don't know. When The younger Doctor and Donna approach the newest Doctor after the Toymaker is defeated, you stay behind to let them have their moment.

Until Fifteen looks back and motions you forward the second Fourteen's head falls into the crook of his neck. He already knows. He already knows, and he’s asking you to come step in. To be his sanctuary.

You suck in a breath and approach, bridging the gap between The Doctor and Donna to tenderly run your hand up his spine. He can’t see you. He can’t see you, but you can see him, and his entire being trembles at your touch.

“How many people died?” Fourteen asks again. You swallow the knot in your throat and meet the older Doctors dark gaze, to which he winks at you and gently turns his younger self around so that way his face is buried in your neck instead.

“They’re right.” You whisper, threading your fingers through the hair at his nape as he pulls you impossibly closer. The older Doctor presses a finger to his lips and tugs on Donna’s arm to give the two of you a moment of privacy. “It’s not your fault. None of this, none of the ones who died, are your fault. You want to know why?”

He allows you to lift his head from the crook of your neck. Your fingers trace the curve of his jaw until you’re cupping it in your hands, and the urge to kiss him until the ache disappears has never been stronger.

The Doctor asks with such a hesitation that is so unlike him, "Why?"

And it's then that you realize: For all the time this lonely harbinger of death and destruction has existed, when was the last time he stopped? When was the last time he lived?

"Because we choose to. We choose you. There were so many of us, so many of us who wanted something better then the simplistic life we get here on Earth."

The Doctor shakes his head. "Humans are not and have never been simple-" You press a finger to his lips and quirk a brow, playfully daring him to continue.

"You come and urge us away in that brilliant little box of yours with promises of a better life. An exciting life. Regardless of the dangers to ourselves, we always take it, because of you. We take you in all that you are even when the Oncoming Storm dares to rear his ugly head. Ancient. Timeless. Infinite," You tenderly run a thumb under his eye. "You love so much... but don't let yourself be loved in return. You don't let yourself be thanked. That's why. We love you because you're selfless, because you're you."

The Doctor hates how wrong you are. He wants to believe those things about himself, but he is by nature a selfish man.

"You are too good to me." He whispers in your ear, lips brushing your temple. You hum thoughtfully and reach under his vest to playfully squeeze his hips.

"Because you're deserving of goodness too, my love."

In the doorway behind you both, The older Doctor smiles. This is exactly the thing, the people, that his younger self needs to heal from all that damage. All that pain and loneliness.

And eventually, he too will wear the mark of peace that this new body has been granted.

***

"Do you know why I think this face came back? So you could stop. So you could come home."

The Doctor has been absently sipping at his drink for the greater part of thirty minutes as he basks in the sunlight and the joy from the group gathered around the table. Mel is just barely leaning into him, enough for her warmth to seep through the fabric of his shirt, and Donna is grinning brightly as Rose tells the story of when The Doctor took her to Mars.

In the distance, Wilf's shotgun goes off as he misses yet another mole attempting to emerge from its burrow.

It is the most peace he's had in millennia.

"Hey," Donna's voice softly calls from his left as she nudges his side with her elbow. "Where did you go?" Ten had this blank look of devastation and haunting that he wore quite often when she'd ask him a question about his past, or about where he'd come from. He lived in his memories. Memories about Gallifrey. About his companions.

This time though, it's you.

Before he can properly reply to Donna, there's a voice shouting from inside the house. His brow furrows. All of the family is outside. So who-

"Donna! For God's sake, why does your house have little to no counter space? There's only four of you! Where am I supposed to put this food?"

The Doctor sucks in a sharp breath. "Is that-"

"Don't worry, I didn't say a word," Donna assures. "But yes. Now go."

She says it with such demand that he has no choice but to trust her and stands to his feet. The Doctor wiggles his toes in the damp, warm grass and takes his empty glass inside to refill it.

There you are. Right there, in all your splendor, muttering curse words under your breath as you work to create space for the desert you'd brought at Donna's request. He's at a loss for words.

That's a first.

"Donna, if you're just standing there gaping-" You whip around and lift an accusatory finger, eyes wide as The Doctor's gaze flickers down and back up to yours playfully. "Doctor."

"Hi."

"What are you doing here? I thought you'd have flown away by now."

Be brave, Doc. Be brave.

Your eyes follow the path of his hands as one comes to rest on your jaw, then the other, until you find yourself drawn impossibly close and only mere inches from his lips. "Between you, Donna and my older self... Think I figured it out."

"Figured what out?"

The Doctor's fingers tangle in your hair then and tip your head upwards. "Why I was coming home," He whispers. "The long way around."

The sigh of relief that escapes from both of you as the ache finally, finally leaves makes all of the pain worth it. All the heartache. The loneliness.

It's all worth it if he gets this.

"I love you." The Doctor murmurs as you pull apart. The smile that rewards him could rival the brightness of Gallifrey's suns, and he thinks he might be able to do this kind of life after all if it means he gets to see that smile. Forever.

"I love you too." You reply, resting a single hand on his chest. "The ache..."

"What?"

"The ache." You breathe. "It's gone. Guess I must've needed a Doctor to fix me up."

Donna turns her head to gaze at the open kitchen doors as laughter pours through, and The Doctor emerges with you carried on his back. You take your place in his lap easily enough once he sits down.

Yeah. The amnesia.. the missing years, the adventures... It had all been worth it.

Those bleeding hearts that have spent millennia broken still beat, messy stitches holding as they take their rest within their cage.

Healed. Fixed.

No longer aching.

[stusbunker]

Spotless: Stornello

Chapter Thirty Three

Featuring: Dean Winchester/Reader

Other characters: Pamela, Annie, Kevin, Cesar, Donna, Jody, Patience, Nancy, Bobby, Charlie, Pamela, Bela, and Ellen at the end

Word Count: 4367

Warnings, etc: Mutual pining, still unbeta'd, Spa day with the girls (gn), Bela apologizes and tells Trouble her and Dean are over, Trouble makes her own phone calls, Dean makes a promise

Series Masterlist

Special shoutout to @lastactiontricia for helping me with the Bela phone call.

You sighed and sank further into the massage bed. The room was filled with the soft buzz of instrumental music and aromatherapy. Your masseuse focused on the tightened muscles from your neck into your shoulders, which were so stiff you had to hold back a groan as she released the tension. On the bed beside you, Annie hummed blissfully with her own massage.

It was the morning after the band dinner that Sam organized and almost half of that same group had signed up for a spa day. Jody, Donna, Patience and Bobby were getting pedicures, while you, Annie, Pamela and Cesar were in the massage room. Nancy, Kevin, and Charlie were getting their manicures, but were ready in robes for their turn with the absolute magic that the masseuses held in their hands.

You heard Cesar muttering in Spanish under his breath as his masseuse attacked his lower back, who just chuckled and continued with his ministrations. Cesar and the rest of the crew did a lot of hauling of equipment, besides regular security stints, it made sense his back needed attention. You closed your eyes and sank back into the haze of relief, a small bubble of time to ignore those around you and just breathe. 

You were pressed into putty, pliable and soft. It was all so decadent, you almost fell asleep. 

The events of the past week hung like sleeping bats in the cave of your mind, twitching and threatening to open up and remind you of each moment of chaos and emotional discord. You tried to remain creeping along the floor, so as not to touch on any one moment for too long and force yourself to face it all at once. It wasn’t all bad, but it was certainly a lot.

Dean caught fleeing Bela’s place.

The tour started on such a high note.

The girls in the pit who stared you and Bela down.

Dean disappearing.

Bela and Crowley trying to out-British one another.

Another amazing show.

Always the paps.

People saw Bela chewing you out, even if it was the smallest blip on the band’s socials. And at this point you couldn’t say her annoyance was entirely unfounded, though she really did go over the top.

The video conference and all the talk about numbers, when you just wanted everyone to survive this unscathed. 

Missing the zoo and all the fun outings because you had busy work to do, things to coordinate.

Dean and Gibson during dinner last night, two peas in a pod.

You exhaled and reminded yourself you had another two days before you had anywhere to be. You could just be.

A faint beeping sound brought you back to the present, the session was over. You blinked your eyes and saw Annie slipping back into her robe as the masseuse held up a towel to give her privacy. You stretched and rolled out your wrists before you slowly got vertical. You smiled shyly at your masseuse as you got your robe back on and thanked her. You bent down and grabbed your bag, waiting until you were the last of the guests in the room, you handed her an envelope. 

“This is for all the massages for this group today. Thank you all so much.”

She graciously accepted it, promising to take care of her staff. You nodded and shrugged your bag over your shoulder and headed off to the pedicure station. Charlie and Kevin raced into the room, fighting for your masseuse, if you were guessing. But they were stopped at the door, having to wait for everything to be sanitized first. 

You laughed to yourself as you headed out, tossing a blithe,

“have fun” over your shoulder.

An hour later, you were tossing back the last of your mimosa as your nail artist was placing the strip of foam between each of your toes. Bela would have loved this place, you thought, aching over the tension that had someone settled between you two. You put the thought away and reached down for another envelope to be dispersed to the nail techs.

Strategically shuffling into the next room, you found yourself at the back of the line as everyone found chairs for the facial treatments. Cesar had convinced Bobby to stick around and have his beard done, while Kevin joined the girls with the full face package. He’d even brought a headband to keep his shaggy hair out of the way. Then you remembered he was the virtuoso only child of a dedicated single mother and guessed this wasn’t his first rodeo with good skin care.

You carefully maneuvered into one of the remaining empty chairs and set your bag down, while still being cautious with your fresh gel nails.

“I love that color on you, Trouble!” Donna exclaimed, dragging you into a show and tell with everyone within reach.

She had chosen blood red with points, while Jody had a simple French manicure and Kevin had gone with his natural nails trimmed short, but in a deep teal. The technicians moved around the room, ensuring each station was stocked before one started explaining the process to the room as a whole. They began with warm towels and you actually dozed off after that, letting them do what they needed to clean up your face the best they could.

The buzz of conversation around you came in and out as you let yourself be pampered.

“Sam seems to be quite the draw for the fans,” Jody teased.

“Can’t keep a shirt on that boy to save his life,” Annie agreed, but it sounded like something you’ve heard out of Bobby’s mouth in the past, which made you smile.

“Well, I ain’t complaining,” Jody tacked on, making everyone laugh.

Your tech smoothed a cool cream over your cheeks and slowly moved outward in circles. It was soothing after all the other processes your skin had gone through. 

“Alright, we’re going to adjust your seats slightly so we can get the redlights in place. Please remember to keep your glasses on until after your light has been turned off at the end of the allotted time,” the woman who explained everything at the beginning of treatment said somewhere off towards your right.

You once again opened your eyes and glanced around. Pamela smirked at you before she slid her protective lenses over her eyes. 

“She’s so going home with those,” you said to no one in particular.

“We always end the day a few pairs short, it’s no problem,” your tech reassured you in a low tone. 

“Well, that’s something at least,” you replied as you took the pair she offered you, and slid them on.

The red light treatment wasn’t hot, exactly. You had anticipated something like the flashbacks of tanning beds in high school and college, but it wasn’t anything that intense. Your skin did feel different afterwards, though, and you gratefully took the moisturizer offered to you. Everyone slowly went back to the changing rooms and got back into their street clothes. Before you left, you made sure to leave an envelope for the workers again and took the all of the complimentary gift bags to hand out to everyone at lunch. 

“Lookin’ good, kiddo,” Bobby said to you once you made your way back into the hotel lobby, armful of skin products in tow.

You blushed. “Thanks, you clean up pretty well yourself.”

He just rolled his eyes and rubbed his knuckles over his freshly trimmed and conditioned beard. “We good for lunch?”

You checked your watch as everyone started to huddle closer. “We’ve got twelve minutes until our reservation.”

“Nice timing there,” Annie pointed out.

“It’s a gift,” you said, actually taking the compliment. Because you were surprised they had gotten everyone through the spa in time.

“You think they have more of those mimosas with lunch?” Kevin asked.

“I bet we could convince them to bring us a pitcher or two,” you teased.

“Sounds like a plan to me!” Nancy giggled.

You and Patience shared a look, and she nodded telling you her drummer was already tipsy. It was sweet. And it was early enough she could crash with a nap and still be good to go out later. You handed out all of the goodie bags while you waited to approach the hostess at the hotel restaurant where you’d made the reservation. 

Everyone was excited, but Donna was ecstatic with all of her new creams and serums. While Cesar stealthily took Bobby’s bag to bring back to Jesse. You felt like Santa Claus, giving all the good girls and boys a bright start to the tour. Obviously, there’d be time to spoil Dean, Sam, Lee, Victor, Benny and Jesse, too. Vegas was right around the corner afterall.

It was definitely one of the perks of the job, even if it wasn’t your money covering it all, it was theirs. Just coordinating it all and seeing it all go off without a hitch made you feel like what you did was important, that you were more than a social media secretary, or a mother hen.

At two minutes til, you bowed out of the conversation over nighttime routines on the road and smiled at the hostess. “Reservation for twelve under Fromnian?”

“Of course, right this way,”

Using one of Dean’s usual aliases made you feel like you were doing some secret sneaky thing. It also made you feel powerful. You waved the group over and headed into the most delicious meal you’d had in weeks.

Well, that wasn’t ominous or anything.

Plus, you were still pretty annoyed with Bela. Even after listening to her voicemail twice, the idea of talking to her set you on edge. The look you knew she’d be giving you, even over the phone gave you that panicked, cornered feeling. It was as if you were about to get into trouble, like a kid caught sneaking in late for curfew. Within ten minutes your phone rang. So on a deep inhale you put  your best counterargument face on.

“Hey, what’s up?” You plopped down onto the desk chair in your hotel room.

“She speaks!”

“Belaaaaa, look. I know I have been avoiding you. But I am still kinda pissed at you, so whatever is going on with Dean and you or whatever—- just tell me so I can work on putting out whatever fire he started this time.”

“Y/N, it’s not Dean’s fault, well— at least not totally, but first I need to tell you something.”

You sighed, but what you really wanted to do was growl. She was already on thin fucking ice. “What now?”

“I’ve maybe, sort of, been sleeping with him?”

Your eyes threatened to roll entirely back into your skull. “Yeah, kinda picked up on that.”

“Really?! You haven’t said anything, so— I guess I thought you either didn’t know or didn’t care and, well, I feel like I should be apologizing. But you don’t sound upset— exactly.”

You huffed and geared yourself up to unleash but nothing you wanted to say was coming out in full sentences. Nothing made any fucking sense. “Look— I just— it really wasn’t my business. Plus it kind of added to the whole story—- but wait. Why are you apologizing now? To me?”

“Well, technically I haven’t yet. But I’m going to start with that one. Then go on from there. I’m sorry I slept with Dean. One, I don’t think it was worth it if it hurt you. And two, I have a growing suspicion he only did it because he couldn’t do it with somebody else. So, yay for being the understudy.”

You dropped your forehead into the palm of your hand and stared blankly at your unlit laptop screen. What the hell was she talking about?!

“Why— why would you sleeping with Dean hurt me? I set you up—- I set this whole thing up!” You almost laughed, it was so ridiculous. If you weren’t okay with it, you wouldn’t have survived the last few weeks. If it were any of your business at all, that is.

“Y/N, seriously? You can tell me. I know I get a little caught up in the chaos of life, that I prioritize things other people don’t, but you are my dearest friend. If I hurt you or maybe invaded your territory, I am sorry. I really had no idea. Because, frankly, you’ve never said anything of the sort.”

Oh no.

“Bela— it’s not like that. There’s nothing— Dean is a friend. I’m not like that with him. Like, at all.”

Bela breathed over the line with the sound of music coming in and out of focus, maybe from a passing car. “Did our— was it upsetting to you? I’m not saying you’re jealous or that you’re pining over him or anything. But did it piss you off? Because that is what I’m apologizing for. I’m not telling you what you feel or how to react; I’m just sorry if you were hurt or upset at all.”

“You’re really breaking this down— I guess I was a little— annoyed? Kind of surprised you gave him the time of day, honestly.”

“Okay! Good. I mean, not good, but — progress, yeah?”

You sat back and kicked up your ankle over your good knee, pulling it towards you for something to hold on to. “Okay, now that that’s out of the way—- why are you calling? I don’t think Dean would have said that that was so important that I answer your call.”

Bela chuckled and murmured. “Probably not.”

You could hear the hum of an engine and the sounds of  passing traffic. “I thought of you, earlier, the other band and some of our team went to the attached spa at the hotel today. The mimosas were amazing and I am, well— I was as relaxed as pulled taffy.”

“Sounds divine.”

You squeezed your calf and squinted your eyes closed, as if you were hiding. “And I realized I kind of blew you off on the show on Saturday. It was a stupidly stressful day and up until the end of SPSs set, I didn’t know if Dean was going to show! Then, he was fine and finally on stage and Crowley was being Crowley—- All I could do was to shut down and go through the motions.”

“Where did he even go? I thought something was off, not only you, everyone, mind you.”

“Home, apparently. I think he was working out?”

“Oh, christ,” Bela groaned. “Please don’t let him become one of those gym hounds, I beg of you!”

“Don’t worry, that falls to Sam. He is in charge of Dean’s workout routine. And he’s oddly good at it, but I think it’s one of those things he can control that he got out of rehab.”

“That’s oddly sweet.”

“They’re ridiculous, but they really do help each other be better—- Anyway, I am sorry too. I shouldn’t have left you to the wolves in VIP while I just watched the show or set up autographs.”

Bela tutted. “I really need to work on my timing, don’t I?”

“Bela?” You warned.

“Well, you’re gonna hate me, if you didn’t already after that fiasco of a suggestion Saturday night. But, Dean and I are ending it. He wants to see other people, or person, really. And I don’t want to keep him locked up.”

“And there’s no way Bobby or I could change your minds?” The words were out of your mouth before you realized what she said. Dean wanted somebody else, a specific someone. Your stomach dropped as she batted away your attempt at negotiation.

“Not really. I think the poor man deserves to have a proper go of it. See if he’s up to snuff for real.”

“You know who it is.”

“Yes, you’d know too, if you weren’t playing masochist roulette.”

You groaned and looked up at the ceiling, the light from the tops of the curtains was dancing in the late afternoon sun. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Fine. Be dense. Are you already emailing their manager tattling on me?”

You did not pout, but you did glare at your laptop again. “Nooooo, but I probably should be. But it’s a weekend off. We have Vegas next and who knows when we’ll have this much down time after that.”

“I’m not in any rush for the announcement. Take all the time you need and I’ll post whatever you think sounds best, for everyone, obviously. Amicable split and all.”

“So generous of you,” you muttered, because she always took your snark as a compliment.

“I try.”

“Look, about Saturday, well there was a lot going on and you really caught me off guard.”

The wind changed and Bela suddenly felt closer, she must have put her top up on her car. “I know, that’s why I’ve been messaging you. I didn’t mean to be a bitch about Jo, I just wanted you to lighten up—- to stop worrying so much and doing all the grunt work.”

“It’s a group effort— it’s a family business thing. We’re a pretty small support staff.”

“Y/N, I’ve met everybody and I believe you. I still know you worry too much.”

“Part of the job, images are fragile things.”

“So are you.”

“I’m really not.”

“No, I know, I’m not—- you’re one of the strongest people I know. Truly. You also need to take care of yourself. Not just Dean and the boys in the band.”

You hummed. “I had a spa day, didn’t I?”

“How many pictures did you take of everybody else to post later? Who covered the treatments? The tips? Who made the reservations?”

You bit your bottom lip because you had nothing to say to that.

“Y/N, you need to let yourself be happy. To want things. FOR YOU. If you want to keep running yourself ragged at a job that requires half the effort you put forth, so be it, follow your calling. But life is too short, you know that better than anybody. And if you want something, or someone, you need to start by admitting it to yourself.”

You blinked against the heat of shame-filled tears. 

“I can’t— he’s not something I can want— let alone have.”

“Oh, darling, please! You can have the fucking world. You just have to believe it first.”

You exhaled and tried to keep from outright crying. “You know I’m still pissed, right?”

Your bottom lip was not solid matter.

“I should hope so! I just topped off your rage tank for a good month. The doghouse seems like the place for a spring getaway anyway.”

You actually laughed at her blithe acknowledgement.

“Good, at least we’re on the same page.”

“Almost. You still need to own up to a few things, but I’m going to give you some space— I think you might need to forget I exist for a few more days.”

“You can’t hide from me, Talbot, I know where you live.” You teased, knowing she was still apologizing. 

“Likewise, but I also know that I’ll be hearing from you when you’re ready. Now, go enjoy the rest of your Friday night off. Wash down that snag in your afternoon with a good meal and even better cocktails, yeah?”

You blew out a breath, still a little ragged, but agreed, “sounds good to me! Talk to you later.”

“Ta!”

You stopped yourself from calling Dean about four times as you paced around your hotel room, strategizing how to break the news, first to the band, then to corporate and finally to the fans and the world at large.

You needed a drink.

Or ten.

You thought about why Dean had convinced Bela to end it. And who it could be. He had always seemed very comfortable around Donna. It made sense, she was smokin’ and the tour was just starting up. It gave him time to make it stick. You had to make sure he waited to make anything public until you got your statements out and the fans had time to grieve.

Which meant that you needed to call him anyway.

You sighed, you really didn’t want to have this conversation, but that was the story of your life today, apparently.

He picked up on the second ring. “Hey.”

“Hey,” you snipped, flopping onto your hotel bed and kicking your flats off.

“On a scale of one to ten, how pissed are you?”

“Twelve.”

“Oof! Well, that’s all on me— what’s the plan?”

“I don’t know yet. But whoever it is that is worth all this, please don’t start anything right away? Or at least not anything where you could get caught, okay? I need some time to get the statements right and out, maybe a few weeks. Depending on what the label says.”

“If you say so— but I really want to just say screw it already. They’re never satisfied anyway.”

“We have a follow up call in a month. As long as the preorder sales stay strong and the tour continues to have good numbers, I doubt they’d bat an eye. Bottom line is where they care the most.”

“Okay, well, that’s doable.”

“You’re sure?”

“Trouble, I swear, I won’t do anything stupid before you give me the green light. This was your baby and I kind of dive-bombed it. I’ll do whatever you need me to.”

“Okay, well, keep it in your pants for now.”

Dean chuckled. “Aye, aye sir.”

You rolled onto your stomach and propped yourself on your elbow. “If we hit up some lounges in Vegas are you gonna be able to resist?”

“Aren’t you going to be out with us?”

“Most likely, I owe you boys a nice night out since we had spa day here.”

“Well, then, no problem.”

“You’re sure?”

“I’ll behave, promise.”

You stared across your hotel room and thought about the last time you saw Dean at a strip joint. He was like a king on a throne, but something dark was lurking underneath whenever you had caught his eye.

You exhaled and decided to (foolishly) trust him. “Okay, well, I’ll let you know when Bobby and I have something solid written out. Bela’s giving me full reign for her statement too. So, that way it will be easier to spin it as a mutual split.”

“Yeah, she’s good like that.”

“Yeah, I know. I knew her first, remember?”

Dean huffed. “How could I forget?”

You let him stew a little bit, however petty it was.

“You get to tell the band, though. Gotta keep it airtight, but they should know first.”

“Yeah— doubt anybody really bought it anyway.”

You thought back to the conversation you had with Benny and way back when you had lunch with Cas. “I thought you guys did a good job. Never even saw any outright disbelief online and fans are speculative as hell usually.”

“A picture's worth a thousand words—- and we gave them plenty of ‘em.”

“True.”

“You disappointed in me? That I couldn’t make it longer?”

His question caught you completely off guard. “Considering you never wanted to do it in the first place— I’d say you did a pretty stellar job faking the relationship part while still fucking around with her.”

Dean hissed. “Touche.”

“I’m not disappointed, Dean. It wasn’t like either of you had any other options.”

“Yeah, but she's your best friend.” He sounded so small.

“She is. That’s why I trusted her with it at all. I trusted you both. And it did its job. Now I just gotta do the PR bullshit and let you live your best life.”

“I don’t— none of us deserve you. I’m dead serious, Trouble. You’re too good for us.”

You heaved yourself up and sat back up, straightening your rumpled clothes. “Look, it’s my job. Just don’t do anything to make it worse in the meantime, okay?”

“Don’t worry, I heard you the first time. And I’m sorry I am putting this all on you after everything you’ve already done to cover my ass.”

You were over the seriousness and just went with the first thing that popped into your mind. “Well, it’s a pretty small ass, doesn’t take much.”

Dean chuckled, but his voice definitely dropped, “so you’ve been lookin’.”

And suddenly you wanted to take back the joke, because Bela’s knowing voice is echoing around your head. ‘Oh, darling, please! You can have the fucking world. You just have to believe it first.’

“Well, you weren’t being too subtle with all your post-run stretching the other day. Sam either!” you tried to keep it light, playful, not outright flirtatious.

“Yeah, alright, I’ll give you that one.”

“You going out tonight?”

“Yeah, but just for dinner, I’m taking Gibby so Lee and Pam can have a night off. Though he’s only with us for a few more days—- gonna miss the little man.”

“Yeah, and you are his favorite person, so it won’t be too hard to convince him to ditch his folks for the night.”

“He’s a pretty cool kid himself, can’t complain.”

“Alright, well, I’ll see you later.”

“Sounds good. Thanks again.”

“Yeah, yeah, just don’t forget you promised.”

“On it.”

“Bye.”

“Yeah, later.”

You hung up. And dropped back onto your bed as a puddle of mush across the sheets. God fucking damnit, you were so screwed. Dean wanted somebody for real and you were going to have to watch it happen in real time. You weren’t sure if it was better or worse than the past six months with Bela, but what it was was real. And that in itself was more frightening.

You just had to get through the fallout the announcement would eventually bring. 

Suddenly you knew who you had to talk to be able to tackle this whole thing head on. Determined, you sat back up and tucked your legs underneath each other, criss cross applesauce, and scrolled through your contacts.

“Harvelle’s Roadhouse, serving food until ten p.m. How can I help you?”

“Hey, Ellen— got a minute?”

“Trouble? For you darlin’, I’ve got five.”

You smiled and let yourself come clean.

Tagging:

@deans-spinster-witch

@mrswhozeewhatsis

@cosicas-cuquis

@fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like

@suckitands33

@ladysparkles78

@deans-baby-momma

@stoneyggirl2

@sassy-pelican

@leigh70

@globetrotter28

@winharry

@lastactiontricia

@rockhoochie

@brightlilith

@coldhearted93

@djs8891

@beautiful-places-blog

@n-o-p-e-never

@spxideyver

Chapter 34: Animato

[seluneclerics]

been avoiding talking about the future love interests i have planned for alcina & donna because i don’t wanna spoil the rest of “more the fool me (the unwise lord)” but i feel like we’re far enough in that i just can’t hold it back anymore. more the fool is far from done just yet but i do want to at least give you guys a tiny teaser into my future long fics for my other RE ladies.

Donna Beneviento - “the stars we’ve grown”

Multi-chapter longfic, in the same universe as “more the fool me (the unwise lord)”

Set in the year 2004, you are Yang Meiling. Born into a prestigious clan in your homeland of Taiwan, you’ve always felt out of place amongst your family and friends due to your inability to conform. The night before you were set to claim your inheritance, you decide on flee to Romania in hopes of starting life anew as a gardener.

It is only when you arrive at Lady Beneviento’s door do you realize something is terribly wrong here.

Alcina Dimitrescu - “do you understand? (my heart can’t beat again)”

Multi-chapter longfic, in the same universe as “more the fool me (the unwise lord)”

Born and raised in Brazil, you are Adriana Downs. Charismatic and bold, you are a photographer and architectural historian that hopes to revive your career in the art world by capturing photos of abandoned grand structures. The first stop on your list? Castle Dimitrescu. In the year 2007, you travel to Romania to fulfill your dream, camera in hand.

Unfortunately for you however, the residents of the castle don’t take too kindly to your intrusion.

more the fool me (the unwise lord) - Mother Miranda/Alcina Dimitrescu/Donna Beneviento

the stars we’ve grown - Donna Beneviento

do you understand? (my heart can’t beat again) - Alcina Dimitrescu

ever the fool (a wiser whitaker) - Mother Miranda

This is the official order of my “tale of the three” series over on AO3! I’m so excited to share these stories with you all, buckle the fuck up! Lots of hurt/comfort, angst, fluff, smut, death, and more coming your way.

I won’t be giving a description for ever the fool, as it would contain direct and heavy spoilers for more the fool.

[izzymissi]

Some BelaDonna short fic because i love the pair!! Written From Donna Pov. maybe ill write more of this

i promise ill get back to writting Blood and Shadows and The Maid and The Vampire soon

The shadows stretch long over the Beneviento garden as I sit, quietly observing the flowers sway in the gentle breeze. I should be focused on the plants, the beauty of the silence, the comforting solitude that has always been my refuge. But lately… that peace has been disturbed.

By her.

Bela Dimitrescu.

My hands tremble as I think her name, fingers curling around the hem of my dress to stop the shaking. It’s wrong. It feels so wrong. She shouldn’t occupy my thoughts, my dreams, the spaces between every waking moment. I want to scream, to tear the roots of this feeling from the depths of my mind, but I cannot. I cannot fight this... yearning.

I’ve tried.

Days pass with me locked in this mansion, crafting excuses not to visit the castle. When Mother Miranda asks, I force myself to decline. I avoid Bela as if she were a plague upon me, and yet… the moment I hear her voice, soft yet commanding, echo through the woods, my feet carry me toward her without my permission.

Why does she torment me so? Why do I allow her to?

Every time I approach Castle Dimitrescu, the air grows heavy, laden with something I cannot name. I dread and long for the sight of her, the way she carries herself with such ease, so regal and cold, yet when her eyes fall on me, there’s something else there—something dangerous, something that sets fire to the quiet spaces within me. It makes me want to flee, to disappear into the mist, yet I linger. Always.

I’m weak. Pathetic.

I find myself at her door again today, my hand hovering over the iron knocker. My heart races beneath my ribcage, so loud I fear she might hear it even through the thick wood. Why am I here? Why do I keep coming back when I know what this is doing to me? I tell myself it’s for business, that Lady Dimitrescu’s daughters are allies in the grander schemes of the village. But deep down, I know the truth. It’s her.

The door opens before I can knock, and there she stands, her sharp eyes immediately locking onto me. Bela. Her gaze feels like a blade pressing against my throat, and yet, I cannot move. I should bow, I should say something—anything—but the words die in my throat. Instead, I stare, mute, as she looks me over, lips curling in that familiar, dangerous smirk.

“Donna,” she says, her voice smooth like velvet. “I didn’t expect you.”

I flinch at the sound of my name on her lips. It sends a shiver through me, one I desperately try to suppress. I force myself to nod, though my body feels too stiff, too tense under her gaze. Why does she have this effect on me?

“Come in,” she says, stepping aside, and I obey without a word, my feet moving on their own accord as if enchanted.

The castle is suffocating in its grandeur, every inch of it reminding me of what separates us—what makes this impossible. She is Lady Dimitrescu’s daughter, a powerful, dangerous being, and I… I am just the quiet dollmaker, the ghost of the Beneviento estate. Yet here I am, standing in her presence, the air thick with the weight of unspoken things.

She leads me to a sitting room, the silence between us palpable. It’s almost unbearable, this tension. I should say something. I should speak, but what could I say? That I’ve been thinking about her constantly? That I despise myself for wanting to be near her? That every night, I dream of her touch, her lips, her—

I bite the inside of my cheek to stop the thoughts, feeling the sharp sting of pain. Focus, Donna. Get through this. It’s just business. It’s always just business.

Bela sits across from me, her legs crossed elegantly, and for a moment, she just watches me. I can feel her eyes burning into me, dissecting me in ways I wish she wouldn’t. My hands fidget in my lap, my head bowed, hiding behind the veil of hair that shields my face. I can barely breathe under the weight of her attention, and I hate how much I want more of it.

“So,” she begins, voice soft but firm, “you’ve been avoiding me.”

Her words strike like lightning. I clench my fists to keep from trembling, my gaze fixed on the floor. I should deny it, explain myself, but the truth is, she’s right. I have been avoiding her, and not just in the physical sense. I’ve been running from her in my mind, trying to distance myself from these emotions that have no place in my heart. But no matter how far I run, she’s always there, lingering like a shadow.

“Why?” Bela asks, and I can hear the curiosity in her tone, maybe even a hint of frustration. It makes my chest tighten.

I open my mouth to respond, but nothing comes out. I cannot admit the truth, not to her, not to anyone. This feeling… this obsession, it’s a weakness, and I cannot afford to be weak.

“Donna,” she presses, her voice gentler now, almost… tender. “What are you so afraid of?”

Everything. I’m afraid of everything. Of this feeling, of what it might mean, of her. She’s dangerous in ways that no one else could ever be, not because of her power, but because of what she’s doing to me. She’s unraveling me, bit by bit, and I don’t know how to stop it.

“I…” My voice cracks, and I can feel my heart pounding so hard it hurts. I don’t finish the sentence. I can’t.

The silence stretches on, thick and suffocating. Bela doesn’t push further, but I can feel her watching me, waiting. She’s always waiting, and I’m always failing to give her what she wants.

I stand abruptly, unable to take the weight of her presence any longer. I need to leave, to get out of here before I do something reckless—something that will ruin everything.

“Donna?” Bela stands too, her voice laced with concern now. “Are you alright?”

No. I’m not. But I don’t answer. I can’t. I turn and rush toward the door, barely able to hold myself together. I hear her call my name again, but I don’t stop. I can’t.

As I step into the cool night air, I allow myself one brief moment to look back, just one. Bela is standing in the doorway, watching me leave, her expression unreadable in the shadows of the castle.

I hate this. I hate that she makes me feel so weak, so vulnerable. I hate that, despite everything, I can’t stop myself from wanting her.

But most of all, I hate that tomorrow, I’ll find some excuse to come back.

And the cycle will begin again.

[horeformilfs]

Flowers

Donna Beneviento x Fem! Reader

TW: Flashbacks, Hallucinations, PTSD, Abuse, Fainting, Anxiety

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

The sun dipped low on the horizon, casting long shadows as Y/N stumbled upon House Beneviento, its eerie facade hidden within the dense foliage. A strange allure drew her closer, curiosity mingling with an unspoken dread that tightened her chest.

As Y/N entered the overgrown garden, the air seemed to hum with an otherworldly energy. Unbeknownst to her, Donna Beneviento, cloaked in shadows, observed from the recesses of her abode. Angie, the doll with haunting eyes, whispered to Donna that someone was approaching.

Donna, curious yet hesitant, emerged from the shadows to investigate. Her keen senses detected the subtle distress in Y/N's aura, and as she approached, she couldn't help but notice the way Y/N's eyes widened with fear.

Y/N, caught off guard, saw Donna for the first time. The woman, veiled in mourning attire, radiated an ethereal beauty that contrasted with the eerie atmosphere of the house. The realization that Donna controlled the very plants that had ensnared her brought a wave of anxiety crashing over Y/N.

"Don't hurt me, please," Y/N pleaded, her voice trembling. "I can't go through it again."

As Y/N attempted to flee, the hallucinogenic effects of the flowers intensified. In the depths of her mind, memories of a painful past resurfaced. Y/N saw the specters of her abusive parents, their faces contorted with rage as they disciplined her with cruel abandon. Cuts and welts adorned her younger self's back, vivid reminders of a childhood marked by torment.

Overwhelmed by the haunting images, Y/N's frantic escape led to her collapse, unconscious on the ground.

Outside, Donna knelt beside her fallen visitor, her gaze softening as she brushed a strand of hair from Y/N's face. Without a word, she lifted Y/N into her arms, carrying her into the house and into an unused bedroom.

Y/N awoke in a disoriented haze, greeted by the sight of a woman in mourning attire and a doll in a wedding dress. Panic surged within her, amplified by the veiled figure's presence. Donna, sensing Y/N's distress, attempted to calm her, but the fear persisted.

Angie, observant as ever, pointed out that the veil might be the cause of Y/N's anxiety. Donna hesitated but, with a moment of vulnerability, removed the mourning veil, revealing her face. Y/N, in her disoriented state, saw the woman's beauty, a stark contrast to the sinister reputation of House Beneviento.

"Don't be afraid. I won't hurt you," Donna reassured, her voice gentle. "I never meant for this to happen. It was never my intention to bring you pain."

The room, cloaked in an otherworldly stillness, bore witness to a fragile connection between two souls touched by the haunting echoes of their pasts. In the midst of shadows and whispered regrets, Donna Beneviento and Y/N navigated the delicate dance of understanding and solace within the walls of House Beneviento. 

Donna lingered by Y/N's bedside, a solemn presence in the dimly lit room. The air was heavy with unspoken words, and the echoes of Y/N's painful memories lingered like a haunting melody. Donna, with a sense of cautious empathy, tried to broach the subject.

"Y/N, can you tell me about what you saw?" Donna's voice, soft as a whisper, held a genuine concern. She extended a hand, a gesture of compassion, but Y/N recoiled, her eyes flashing with a mixture of fear and defiance.

"I don't want to talk about it," Y/N snapped, a sharpness in her tone. The walls she had built around her past were reinforced with each rejection of the painful memories.

Donna, undeterred, persisted gently. "Sometimes, sharing the pain can help. It's okay not to carry it alone."

But Y/N, locked within the fortress of her own trauma, remained resistant. The wounds of the past were still too raw, the scars too fresh, to be unveiled and examined.

Donna, sensing Y/N's reluctance, shifted her approach. Instead of pressing further, she sat in a silence that conveyed understanding. The room, wrapped in shadows, became a sanctuary for the unspoken, a haven for a wounded soul.

"I won't force you to share if you're not ready," Donna reassured, her voice a soothing balm. "But know that your pain is valid, and you don't have to bear it alone. You're safe here."

Y/N, though still guarded, felt a flicker of acknowledgment. The vulnerability Donna displayed, the empathy in her eyes, sparked a tentative connection. Donna continued to sit with Y/N, a silent guardian in the night, offering a refuge from the storm that raged within.

In the quietude of House Beneviento, the shared pain of two wounded souls hung in the air. Donna, with an understanding born from her own shadows, extended a hand to Y/N, inviting her to release the burdens of the past in the sanctuary of their shared silence.

[kottekonst]

Birthday Fanfic - Soft 14

Diving headfirst into Tumblr by posting the little birthday fanfic I wrote for my bestie @davidtennan-t Because she deserves all the soft 14th Doctor content 💖

Ten glorious months had passed since the Doctor had bi-generated, and subsequently sent his 14th regeneration into not-quite-retirement, or perhaps more aptly a retreat-for-emotionally-damaged-time-travellers. Time was a funny thing for anyone to grasp, and even though the Doctor had lived seemingly for eons, he suddenly found himself with oodles of spare time – a concept he had never experienced nor grasped before. He was still struggling to adjust to it, and the restlessness could make him absolutely insufferable at times. Donna had never seen someone illustrate the idiom “climbing the walls” literally before, but if she’d ever expect it of someone it would only be her freakishly nimble Spaceman.

During the first couple of months, she would often find him out in the shed in the dead of night tinkering with everything from a Silurian hibernation unit to model aircrafts, or in the kitchen experimenting with the ideal pH-level for water to make the perfect brew. Other times he would be sat next to Rose either deep in the most random conversation, or complete silence, or listening to one of her playlists, while he handed her tools and materials to put together her latest design. Her gonks had changed since she let go of the lingering Meta-Crisis, but she kept coming up with new ideas, some that Donna heavily suspected were inspired by actual aliens from trips they kept sneaking off to. Truthfully, Donna simply loved the fact that her daughter was able to explore time and space as she had once done, but she was also very protective of her. The universe could be an incredibly dangerous place, but there was no one she trusted more when it came to protection than the Doctor.

After a couple of months, the Doctor had finally started unwinding. His restlessness declined and the lines in his face became softer as the broodiness eased up, and he would often sleep through the night rather than tinker or aimlessly wander. He rarely spoke of his experiences during the time they had been apart, but he would bring something up on occasion to any of them. He and Wilf seemed to have a special understanding, as they had both experienced their fair share of battles. The bond between Donna and the Doctor went far beyond words though, and while there were times when they spoke endlessly and tirelessly, they often sat in comfortable silence. It wasn't uncommon for the Time Lord to seek Donna out for a comforting hug, or he would wordlessly take a seat next to her and curl his skinny frame up against her, with a sigh as deep as the Universe.

 The Doctor was slowly healing from his trauma, which in turn made their whole little household more harmonic. It was only in the last month or so that Donna noticed another sign of healing in the Time Lord. His hollow cheeks had filled out not long after settling down, but now she realised he was actually filling out in other ways. Those tight suits were looking tighter still these days, and his lower shirt buttons were definitely struggling to contain a certain softness that had never been there before. It didn't surprise her, but she could tell the Doctor was oblivious to it, initially at least. Even though he still had the energy of a toddler on a sugar high, his days of endless running and fleeing were done, and retirement came with creature comforts the Doctor had never been able to partake in before now. There was suddenly time for three course dinners, or meals that lasted hours, not to mention countless cups of tea and biscuits. It wasn't just meals shared with friends and newfound family - the Doctor became rather popular in the village, particularly the sweet old lady in the house next door. He had started doing odd jobs for her the day he moved in and to show her gratitude and appreciation she would make muffins, cakes, and sugary biscuits, meaning his larder was always stocked with freshly baked goods. One might even suspect she was actively trying to fatten him up, since she kept fussing and fretting over his skinny frame, and Donna didn’t blame her – his gaunt appearance had been rather harrowing when he’d finally conceded to settling down. The soft roll that had slowly formed around the Time Lord’s waist was a testament to the healing and decompressing he’d experienced thus far, and it was honestly reassuring to see it.

To a stranger’s eye, the Doctor would probably still appear as lean or lanky, but to those who knew him there was no denying the subtle changes. A few weeks ago, the Time Lord had finally caught up with it himself, and the realisation hit him when he encountered two issues at once. Firstly; he tore a button off in his struggle to button up his shirt, and secondly; he couldn’t get his trousers closed and zipped up either. He had marched in on the family eating breakfast, wearing only a vest and boxers, ranting and raving about this perplexing issue. They had all sprung into action in their own ways, showing support and patience for the brilliant yet simultaneously dim alien. Rose had wordlessly taken the Doctor’s trousers and went straight to her craft room to let them out enough to make them wearable, until he could get himself a new pair. Shaun had gone to his closet to pick out one of his own shirts, which certainly wouldn’t be a perfect fit, but would definitely be big enough for the Time Lord. That left Donna, and Wilf to a lesser extent, with the task of explaining the changes that had been so obvious to everyone but the Doctor. He had been relentlessly running for so long that the consequences of not doing so had clearly slipped his mind, and it was evident that the notion of putting on weight both intrigued him and irked him simultaneously. Now that he’d settled into a routine, the Doctor was less apt at dealing with changes, either for good or bad. There was also a certain vanity that came with being a Time Lord, but it had certainly lessened with this regeneration, and Donna couldn’t help but smirk to herself when she thought how the Doctor might have reacted to putting on a few back when they’d first travelled together.

“You definitely need some meat on your bones, Doctor – frankly, you’ve earned it,” Wilf insisted robustly.

“He’s right, you know. This is nothing but a bit of comfort weight,” Donna reiterated.

“I don’t know… it just makes me feel so…” the Doctor faltered, unable to find the right word.

“…human? Normal? At peace, at long last?” Donna suggested. She noticed him making the tiniest of grimaces at the first word, and she couldn’t help but give him a playful glare – as much as he loved humanity, he still found it hard to fully embrace anything human about himself, which only made it easier to tease him.

“Oh, stop sulking, you big dunce. If I threw a fit every time the scale didn’t show the number I’d like, Shaun would have walked out within our first week together. That tiny excuse for a belly would hardly even be enough for three Adipose, you know,” she remarked, which made them both chuckle reminiscently.

Since that morning, the Doctor had grudgingly allowed the TARDIS automated tailoring unit to alter his suits, but it certainly improved his comfort levels. He didn't alter the trousers that Rose had let out for him as her work was impeccable, and the gesture meant the world to him. Donna had even seen him lovingly stroking the fine stitches at the waistband, which nearly made her burst into tears out of love for the alien uncle's adoration of his human niece.

Just before the weekend, Rose had begged her parents to let the doctor take her for a quick visit to Greece. She had desperately wanted to see the Acropolis, but Donna didn't want her messing about with time, so they had compromised and allowed them to go to modern day Greece. They were only gone for half an hour that Saturday, but had spent an equivalent of 6 hours in Athens. Apart from visiting the ruins of the Acropolis, they had done some shopping, or rather, Rose had. No matter how much Donna tried to discourage it, the Doctor wouldn't stop spoiling his niece. And she was thankfully too sweet to take advantage of him… at least most of the time. She had picked out two dresses and a lush fabric for her sewing projects, and even managed to convince the Doctor to buy himself a new pair of swim trunks as well as vegan moussaka for the whole family’s supper. As it turned out, that wasn't the only thing they'd ended up bringing home.

“That is not what I think it is,” Donna protested when they exited the TARDIS.

“We couldn't leave him, Mum. He was nearly run over by a car, but the Doctor saved him,” insisted Rose, who was clutching a tiny ginger kitten to her chest.

Donna turned her pointed gaze on the Time Lord, who merely shrugged helplessly.

“I might not be the biggest cat lover, but I couldn't let the poor beast get squished,” he said.

“I'm not saying you should have let it die, but you can’t let her drag home every bedraggled creature you happen upon, or you’ll have to turn the whole village into a sanctuary for kittens, Oods, and God knows what else,” Donna sighed in exasperation.

“You got to keep your bedraggled alien,” Rose pointed out with a cheeky expression.

“Oi, don’t get snippy with me, missy. Now you’d better sort out a flea bath for that baby – we can’t do with an infestation on our hands… again,” Donna ordered.

Rose merely giggled as she handed the small creature over to the Time Lord, while she hurried for the gate – the old lady next door had plenty of flea shampoo to spare, as they’d found out after a particularly hairy alien (quite reminiscent of a certain Meep) had paid them a visit… and brought along a few unwelcome pests. The Doctor held the tiny cat as if it was a very delicate, yet also repulsive, figurine.

“What is this strange aversion you have to cats?” Donna chuckled at his perturbed expression.

“Not sure… suppose it’s got something to do with their glands,” he muttered.

Donna merely shook her head and stooped to pick up the shopping that had been left just outside the TARDIS to bring it inside. 

Within the hour, Rose had managed to give the kitten a bath and its first meal. It had also knocked over two potted plants, gnawed a hole in one of Wilf’s slippers, and caused the Doctor to curse loudly in Gallifreyan as it used his long leg as a climbing pole while the Time Lord was trying to reheat the moussaka. By supper time, she had set up a playpen for it, so they could all enjoy their meal together without the ginger furnado causing mayhem around them. Once they had enjoyed their Greek cuisine, Rose turned her attention back on the kitten, while Donna took care of the dishes. By the time she had finished wiping the kitchen down, she went to see how her daughter was getting on with her new pet but was surprised to find Rose by herself in her craft room.

“Where did you put that kitten then?” Donna wondered.

“I asked the Doctor to keep an eye on him – I forgot I had a deadline to keep,” Rose replied and gestured to the purple gonk sat on her desk.

“If that’s going to be your pet, you’ll need to be responsible for it, love – no handing it off the moment you get too busy, that’s not how animals work,” Donna pointed out.

“Oh Mum… you honestly thought I kept that cat just for me?” Rose chuckled as she turned to focus on her sewing.

Donna was about to argue since it was evident the Doctor really didn’t care much for the critter, but there was a knowing sort of gleam in her daughter’s eyes that made her curious.

“All right, if you say so. We were thinking of watching a film later, if you’d care to join us,” she said.

“Thanks – if I get this finished I might take you up on that,” Rose replied. 

Donna left the craft room behind and decided to see how the Doctor was getting on with the furry menace. His bedroom was empty, but she hadn’t expected him to bring the kitten in there anyway, and so she headed to the first floor sitting room next. There was the Time Lord and the ginger beast, but not in a position she had expected. The alien was sat on the sofa, long legs sprawled over the floor, his body slumped against the cushions in a deep sleep. His head was tilted back, his mouth slightly agape as he breathed calmly and steadily. On his ever so slightly rounded middle lay the kitten, curled into a tiny ball of soft fur and whiskers, also deep in sleep. The sight was almost too endearing to handle – Donna nearly wept at it. This was all she’d ever wanted for her best friend… A life of love and comfort, with friends and family ever present. For him to be safe, to be saved, but her daughter had spotted a different need; the Doctor’s need to save others. A kitten might not compare to rescuing an entire town, planet or species, but it was a life saved all the same. Donna carefully pulled out her phone to snap a picture of the picturesque scene, before taking a seat across from the snoozing Time Lord. The sound of her movement caused him to stir, and he slowly came to with a yawn.

“Looks like you’ve gotten soft, Spaceman… in more ways than one,” Donna teased him fondly.

The Doctor blinked sleepily at her, before peering down at the kitten still sleeping soundly on his recently softened middle.

“I suppose once you look past the glands they may not be so bad after all,” he conceded with a crooked smile.

“That niece of yours has got you wrapped around her little finger, you know,” she remarked.

“She does. I am helpless against her charm,” he chuckled.

“You’re both absolutely hopeless,” Donna pointed out.

“I’d say she gets it from her mother,” the Doctor retorted, while he gestured for Donna to join him, since he was reluctant to shift his position even slightly. She had long since stopped second guessing what anyone else might make of their physical closeness – if it didn’t bother her husband, what did it even matter? So she didn’t hesitate to switch seats and settle down next to the Time Lord, where he instantly let himself sink down further until he could nussle his head up against her shoulder. Donna reached out and stroked the tiny ginger furball, and the kitten instantly started purring in its sleep. There they sat in comfortable silence, Spaceman and Earthgirl, and all was well.

[sapphicrow]

Re8 Characters as Crane Wives Songs!

Karl Heisenberg- Take Me To War

I think he would be this song because it’s very violent and argumentative, as he is. Also. The man literally is jam packed with the desire for a revolution and his design is heavily influenced by WWII elements. It’s a very simple connection, but suiting.

Donna Beneviento - Unraveling

I think this song reminds me of her not because I imagine her exactly as the serial romantic that the narrator of this tragic tale is, but because of the fact that she has dealt with a lot of loss in her life. Between the death of her family, then anyone she may have had in the village when Miranda ordered them to be massacred, as well as earlier her humanity. The idea of unraveling, or losing it per se, alludes to her characteristic mental illness. Shes off the rails, we love that for her, and so does this song. One of the main lyrics in the song is “But now my love is gone / and I am left unraveling” and I just feel that encompasses how she’s been abandoned to her dolls to wither out of sight. Also the song goes tailor, gardener, then carpenter and she is all of those things which I find to be a rather seemly match.

Salvatore Moreau - Nobody

Now, the artists themselves describe this as a queer tragedy, but I think I can yank it out of context a bit to fit the silly. Now, this song states over and over again how “nobody ever loved me like she tells me she does” and I feel that is a very manipulative statement. Moreau does not have much of a back story, but one of the original concepts for his character was that he was to have the woman he loved melded to his back in a somewhat perverse fashion where she would be forced to stay with him. This idea is encapsulated by the obsessive and toxic nature of the relationship this song portrays. If you really want to have a think about it, you could imagine it was the woman herself trying to justify Moreau’s actions to herself. However, I was thinking more along the route of how Miranda surely had to lead this poor fish on for him to be so devoted. I don’t mean romantically, but she most definitely was more involved to begin. Nobody ever loved him like she told him she does. That doesn’t mean she does, but it does illustrate how she taunted him with the idea of a mom, leading him to create this familial illusion in his twisted mind.

Alcina Dimitrescu- Tongues & Teeth

Now this one was a little tricky, I was torn between this one and The Wolf but I feel this one gives more of that cruel seductiveness we have come to associate with Lady Dimitrescu. This song is very blatant. “And when you come in quick to steal a kiss / my teeth will only cut your lips, my dear” I love to imagine our lady as a woman who relishes in her power, not one who is insecure in it. She will not shy away from her own strength, nor will she temper it for anybody. Tongues & Teeth tells it like it is- should you wish to be hers, you are going to get hurt. End of story. She’s going to hurt you. This is no accident, this is no fluke. She is violent in her very nature. But on the contrary to that, this is a warning. This gives you the courtesy to flee. I think she would want you to at least be willing to be broken by her in some capacity, which is why she would even say anything in the first place. Also. I think the song is a banger and I’d like to bang her.

Cassandra Dimitrescu- Show Your Fangs

Cassie is a huntress, a conclusion made among fans due to her final fight being fought within the Dimitrescu castle’s armory. She is strong and has a fierce playful energy to her, going as far as toying with Ethan with her lil “RAH!”s that admittedly did scare me a few times. I view this song as a sort of feminine war song. “I’m not your highness, a damsel left helpless by fright / I am a lioness, fierce as I walk through the night” Out of the three sisters, she is certainly the most combative. In addition to the obvious associations, I believe that the line stating that she is not your highness is a sort of jab at the title of countess. She wants nothing to do with that power. She is wild and bitey and feral. She is in no way a ‘proper’ lady. She refuses that idea outright and I mclove that for her.

Bela Dimitrescu- Steady, Steady

We all imagine Bela as the perfect, shining golden child of the Dimitrescus. She’s responsible, respectful, and just overall a polite little lady. But I think she’s more wild than that. The duality of this song orchestrates this view wonderfully. Sang in a slow, deep melody; “Steady, steady, you know when you’re ready.” This shows her prim side, I also like to imagine this as her mantra muttered between deep breaths as she goes to present her work to her mom. (She’s always well received, but she over thinks it a lot.)

And then the other side of this song goes in a more frantic, rambunctious tune; “I’m swimming in this dress like a child in her mothers clothes/ This ring around my fingers like a chain around my throat” and while I suppose the original intent was to allude to an unhappy marriage, I think we can point it towards the subtle resentment Bela holds towards her responsibilities and how she feels as though she’s not the right person for the job. Bela deals with a lot of impostor syndrome on this matter. I just think this song gives both sides of our dynamic blondie. (Alternatively for Bela, Hard Sell)

Daniela Dimitrescu- Icarus

Originally, Icarus was a tale of a young fool who got too close to the sun. It is also the tale of a boy who wanted Apollo BAD bad. Daniela feels very youthful and naive to me, she was locked up after all. I think that her mother acknowledged that she was desperate for outside interaction and that this was a threat to her, thus her seclusion in the library. However, in the end, her delusions of romance had her get just a bit too close to Ethan. “My love will fall with grace,” says the song. And so she did. She flew too close to the sun. Plus this song is super spunky and that gives Dani vibes.

Mother Miranda- Never Love An Anchor

Okay so. This song speaks of a shitty shitty relationship, one that’s maternal evidently. I believe this is symbolic of Mother Miranda’s connection with the lords. Heisenberg, who wound up in her control against his own will, shown respect solely for his success as a subject. Donna, demented and alone, was taken under her wing only for her to be defenseless when Ethan attacked. Alcina, mighty and beautiful, but weak and insecure in her own mind, left to yearn for her favor. Moreau, grotesque and ruined by Miranda’s hand, then allowed to spoil further as his desperate need for her love went unfed.

“Do you ever think of me and my two hands? And wonder why they never soothed your fevers? And wonder why they never tied your shoes? And wonder why they never held you gently? And wonder why they never had the chance to lose you?” On a separate note, I think this could be something Miranda thinks to herself as she fights for Eva. If her consciousness is trapped in the megamycete, it stands to reason that she is conscious in there. I wonder if Miranda ever worried if Eva could overhear the carnage she was causing for her. I wonder if she spoke to her, apologizing for not being a good enough mom. I wonder if the guilt would overwhelm her to the point she was crumpled on her lab’s floor, weeping against bare earth and mold, begging her to forgive her. Hm. Food for thought.

Bonus! Mirancina- The Moon Will Sing

[toulousewayne]

Batfamily Shenanigans:Head-canons Pt: 4

The Wayne family attends Gala all the time. Some have for years, but that doesn’t mean that all enjoy them. Bruce and Damian attend them purely for appearances, Dick is there to kept his siblings from burning down the building, Jason always sneaks in as different undercover identities, Tim has to go because he has to also keep up appearances but most of the time you will find him indirectly call the investors idiots. Duke and Steph are at the snack table, Cass sticks next to Babs at the table and they watch the chaos together. Alfred joins them sometimes.

It comes as to no shock that Tim has severe Narcolepsy, but Dick and Bruce have insomnia.

Damian watched Tim while he sleeps. No one knows when he started but he always tells the other it’s because Tim is prone to falling. Which is lie but no one ever stops him.

Stephanie is very skilled mechanic, sometimes when there’s down time she’s found repairing or working on of the bat bikes or the Batmobile.

Dick Grayson is color blind. It’s only when he comments on Stephanie’s brown sweater that Jason points out to him. Barbara and Bruce knew the whole time and just thought he was doing it to be funny, it comes as a shock to Dick though.

Duke and Cass go to the flee market every Sunday. The buy fresh produce and eggs for Alfred. Cass even thrifts a few clothing pieces.

Speaking of Clothes, no one has all their clothes anymore. Jason’s hoodies are always stole from the manor, his safehouses in the city and out of the country it doesn’t matter. They’ll usually end up in Cass, Tim or Steph’s closet. Dick’s T-shirts are public domain at this point because all his siblings have at least one of them. Barbara can never find her fuzzy socks until she visit the manor next and find them on Damian and Stephanie’s feet. Tim’s jewelry is always around Cass’ neck. Damian is the only safe because no one can fit his stuff but he does get Duke and Tim’s clothes they’ve outgrown.

Cass will sometimes spend time with Alfred in the cave repairing the suits. She’s very good at sewing.

Selina is lactose intolerant, Bruce finds this hilarious.

Duke took dance classes sense he was eight. He can dance the waltz, break dance, ballet, jig, salsa, and a few others.

Bruce allowed Tim create the design of the newest bat tech.

Alfred enjoys his tea with sugar and crème, Damian of course likes sugar and lemon. They have weekly tea parties in the sunroom with Alfred the cat and Titus.

Dick has the most mixed playlist of songs. So, whether he’s on a steal out with Bruce, driving Damian to soccer practice, or even just cleaning his apartment by himself he’s got something for everyone.

Barbara loves Amy Winehouse, she plays her record several times a day in the Clocktower.

While on the subject of music, Tim can sing and it was very embarrassing when his family found out. Tim was in his room singing with his headphones on but his door was open and he didn’t realize how loud he was. Dick and Steph came across him singing. Stephanie record it and sent it to the group. Tim was embraced by his family for his beautiful voice and they wanted to hear more, but poor Tim wanted the world to swallow him whole. Jason can play guitar and Dick can’t sing well but he can also play guitar in addition to the bass.

Damian is able to find his family with little tech involved. The OG Titans came back to the tower after helping Donna with a mission and Robin was perched in their living room. He gave Wally a heart attack. Tim was having a game night with Conner,Bart, and Cassie and the scream Bart unleashed when they found Damian in the kitchen starring at the pizza boxes on the counter and questioned Tim on lack of a proper diet.

Clark has nearly broken the sound barrier twice over not being able to hear Bruce’s heartbeat. Luckily both times Bruce had to slow his heart rate to be near death to escape sticky situations and both were ended due to a worried Krypton.

“I wanted Red Claw to think I was dead, I had to slow my heart rate to throw her off.”

“AND YOU DIDN’T THINK TO SAY THAT TO ME, I WAS IN AUSTRALIA?”

Speaking of the Man of Steel, when Dick was freshly Robin and before Clark married Lois, the Boy Wonder tried to set up his father and Clark on several blind dates. Once he canceled a date of Bruce’s and rescheduled a business dinner for Clark and the two ended up on a romantic balcony date in Metropolis. They were both shocked and a blushing mess. It got worse when the waiter address the “Happy Couple” has was instructed from the reservation that Dick set.

Robin got an ear full the next morning from Bruce but to Dick it was worth it and even Alfred may have pulled a string or two.

Another time Bruce couldn’t watch Dick and Alfred was visiting London for the next week and Bruce had to Wayne Enterprises Event. He asked Clark if he could watch Dick for the night and of course he offered.

Not even five minutes after he left did Dick turn to Clark,”So, your dating my Father?”

Clark was as red as his cape and he tried to explain to Dick they are just friends. “Whatever you say Clark, but just curious would you take his last name or will he take yours? Because honestly I don’t see why you can’t use both—“

Clark cover his face as the young bird continued to show his support for his favorite ship.

“Are you also gonna adopt me too now?”

“Okay, time to see what time your Father’s coming back.” He sighed.

[thisgirlnamedblusy]

Always her doll

Yesss!!! I hope you like it!!! Thank you for your request, and for your beautiful words!!! They lift my spirits!!! Sorry for the language mistakes!!! :))))

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem! Reader

Warnings: G!P Donna, smut, Minors DNI, jealousy, Donna being Donna

Word count: 5,750

Summary: Maybe you you were too popular

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

“Mmm, I think they're ready,” you murmured, sighing and turning off the oven.

The old kitchen gave off a sweet, almost intoxicating aroma. Carefully, you took out that tray of freshly made muffins and ran a hand over your forehead, satisfied with the result.

“Perfect…” you whispered shaking your hands, scared when you noticed a presence behind you, gently grabbing your waist and pulling your body back. “Oh…” you jumped.

“Hi, tesoro…” the lady in black asked with a tender whisper in your ear, kissing your cheek, without letting your body go. “Did I scare you?”

“Donna,” you said smiling, closing your eyes to feel better her caresses, her displays of love that were not lacking in your daily life. “How long have you been hidden in the kitchen?”

“Hidden? You’re not thinking I was here to scare you,” she murmured amused, swaying your body.

“That's true, that's more like Angie,” you said with a tender smile, turning around to capture her lips with yours. “I thought you were busy with the dolls.”

“Mm,” she murmured, nodding, kissing you quickly and moving away from you, looking at the muffins with curiosity. “I couldn't concentrate with this delicious smell,” she commented amused.

“Oh, my bad,” you joked, pointing at yourself while wiping the excess flour from your hands. “Relax, I'm done.”

“What a pity…” she purred, with a tender smile, playing with your hand. “Muffins?”

“No, honey, they're not just muffins,” you said amused, pointing at your creations. “They're (Y/N)'s special ultra-delicious muffins”

“Mm, but they're still muffins,” Donna said, blinking mockingly. “Did you make them for me?”

“Well, you will have the honor of trying them,” you commented, with a mischievous smile. “But I warn you that they can give you a deliciousness attack,” you whispered, pretending a serious tone.

The lady in black laughed, shaking her head and studying those muffins, tilting her head.

It was just another day in your perfect life.

Being born in that sinister village was something like a life sentence, always surrounded by shadows, snow, grey skies… The fact that you had been blessed with a kind, fun and outgoing personality didn’t change your destiny, unless you yourself did something about it.

Not wanting to succumb to the shadows that surrounded that place, you decided to make your own path, to flee from the darkness, to avoid wasting your life in a loveless marriage, or serving day and night in the old castle.

No, a life of an ordinary villager was not for you, and you knew it.

After starting to lose hope, thinking that perhaps the Black Gods had already written your life and you could do nothing to remedy it, something that would change your life forever happened: you met her.

Donna Beneviento was one of the four pillars that held Mother Miranda's dominion. Mother Miranda, the priestess of the Gods and undisputed ruler of that snowy place.

You had heard so many things about that Lady Beneviento that having her near you made your body tremble.

But people like to talk, to invent terrible stories about the unknown, about the terrifying doll maker.

To be completely honest, some of those rumors were not wrong. The gifts of the Black Gods had granted that sick woman the ability to make you suffer the worst fear of your life, to turn anyone stupid enough to enter their grounds into a case of tears and unbearable terrors, if they survived…

Loneliness, darkness, complexes… All of this surrounded the young Lord. The claws of the dark demons had sunk deep into her skin. You always tried to live away from rumors, but even that didn't help when, on one of your endless walks, you crossed the threshold that separated light from darkness.

The woman in black had surely prepared to kill you, so her loneliness would be her companion once again. That was the only moment in your life when you were afraid, but it didn't last long.

Sick? Yes, disturbed? Oh, of course, sweet and kind? Sure. Little by little you discovered that  words were absurd if you compared them to reality.

An extroverted girl like you didn't seem like the companion she was looking for, nor did she seem like the great love you dreamed of every night, but your grandmother had a saying: wishes always come true, but not in the way you expect.

She was right, you fell in love with that lady in black, with that soft voice, broken by lack of use, with her hands, with her body, and, finally, with her beauty.

A wounded, deformed beauty, but a beauty, the most beautiful you had ever seen in your young life. Not even an insignificant scar, nor the worries she had about the gift of the Gods to her body, were enough of a reason to abandon her, to not feel the love that filled your soul when you were with her.

There were problems, yes, your social and almost popular character clashed with her desires for tranquility, for solitude. Of course, there was nothing that could break that love, nothing, not even that different behavior.

“Mm,” Donna murmured, savoring one of those freshly made delicacies, as always when you cooked, with a frown, studying each ingredient. “You put cinnamon on it.”

“You don't miss a thing, do you?” you joked, giving her a nudge, which made her laugh shyly, sweetly... You loved her with all your soul. “Eat as many as you want, but leave at least 5 or 6.”

Donna nodded with a tender look, checking every detail of that sweet.

“(Y/N),” she said, as if she had just realized something important. “You said they're not for me...”

You rolled your eyes, taking a breath, preparing for a tense conversation, as always when you wanted to leave the old estate.

“No, they're for Luiza and my friends,” you said quietly, clearing your throat. She looked at you with her eyebrow raised, her expression serious.

“You're going to leave again,” she murmured, shaking her head with a sad sigh. “(Y/N), you spent the whole afternoon out yesterday.”

“Well, I'm really in demand,” you joked, closing your eyes, instantly regretting your choice of words. “Um, forget I said that.”

“In demand? What do you mean? D-don’t, don't make me nervous,” she said, with a worried look, her brow furrowed, studying each of your possible micro expressions.

“I don't want to make you nervous, Donna, I mean... Well, you know I have a lot of friends,” you said, thinking better of your words.

“Too many,” she commented, in a small voice, looking away from you.

You, wanting to avoid a jealous attack, smiled tenderly, approaching Donna and cupping her face in your hands, kissing her to calm her nerves.

“Don't be mad, my love... I promise I'll be back soon,” you whispered tenderly, hanging on to her waist, without your lips completely leaving hers.

“You always say the same and then, then I spend the whole night waiting for you,” she said, nervous, moving away from your kisses, with a dark look. You snorted, guiding her face so she wouldn't stop looking at your bright eyes.

“I'm just going to have tea at Luiza's house, I'll be back before you know it,” you said calmer, playing with her hands, with your best good girl face. “Why don't you dedicate yourself to your dolls?”

“I've been in the workshop all day, I wanted to be with you,” she protested, with a tone that couldn't help but be a bit childish. “In-inoltre, you know perfectly well that when you're not her I can't be calm.”

“Well... Hey, I can call Luiza and tell her I'm not going, what do you think?” you offered, not wanting to argue with her, knowing that, in part, if we forget about the absurd jealousy, she was right.

You had many friends, in the village you weren't just any girl, everyone knew you. If they asked you, you could swear that it was the only part that Lady Beneviento didn't like about you.

The lady in black sighed, kissing your hand and walking away from you while shaking her head.

“I-I can't do that, I can't stop you from doing whatever you want... You, you told me it wasn't right,” she stammered, with her gaze down, biting her tongue so as not to tell you to do it, to cancel that tea.

“I say a lot of things,” you sighed, rubbing her back while she focused absurdly on the counter. A strange idea popped into your head. “Hey, why don't you come with me?”

“Cosa?” she asked confused, with a disoriented face. “Me? With you?”

“Yes, you, with me,” you repeated amused, being the one who grabbed her waist from behind, nodding profusely. “Why not? To get some fresh air from time to time is good for you.”

“I don't mind getting some fresh air, but, but...” Donna said, grabbing your hands so you would let her body go, turning slowly. “No, what do you want me to do with all those villagers?”

“Oh, sorry, Your Majesty,” you mocked, something that the lady growled annoyed at. “Hey, come on, it might be a good idea, right? I've talked so much about you to my friends that I'm sure they're dying to meet you.”

“Yes, literally,” Donna pointed out, shaking her head again. “They already know me, (Y/N).”

“Well, not as much as I do,” you insisted, hanging on to her shoulders again, kissing her lips in a mischievous way. “Come with me, Donna, you'll have a good time… Besides… Are you going to turn down the opportunity to know what I do when I'm not at home?”

“Mm,” she murmured, frowning, her gaze on yours, but at the same time, far away from it, thoughtful. “I hadn't seen it that way,”

“Don't forget that I always manage to convince you, always,” you whispered in her ear in a mischievous way, making her whole body tremble.

“I have that weakness for you...” she sighed, while you approached the kitchen door, winking at her.

“Put on your veil, darling, we're going for a walk,” you joked, leaning on the door frame and leaving the kitchen with a playful gesture.

The walk through the forest was always relaxing. The winter breeze seemed warm with her hand in yours, with that slow walk, with that desire to enjoy your company to the fullest. Unfortunately, you were not alone...

“Where are we going?” Angie, Donna's inseparable doll, asked. One doll that many times, made you want to throw her into the fireplace.

“Again?” you said annoyed, rolling your eyes.

“Where, where!?” the puppet shrieked again, forcing you to press your lips tightly.

“To Luiza's house, it's the fifth time I've told you,” you growled, being comforted by the soft caresses of the lady in black, who looked at you through her veil. “Donna, was it really necessary?”

“I'm not going anywhere without her,” the lady whispered in a dark voice. You had no choice but to snort in defeat, enduring the doll's mocking words.

“Ha! Suck that, you stupid village girl!” the doll mocked, clinging to her owner. You darkened your gaze, but looked away sulkily.

“Angie, basta,” Donna said, calming the doll's excitement, one that was inevitable every time she left the estate.

“Hey, hey, hey!” Angie shouted again, making you regret your offer. “Shall we play movies?”

“No,” Donna and you said at the same time.

“Come on, I'll start... Do you know what movie I think of when I see you two?”

“Oh, not again...” you lamented, especially knowing that her film culture had increased thanks to the Duke's forbidden tapes.

“Scema e più Scema,” the puppet hissed, making you dig into the snow, fists clenched.

“I've been living with Donna for over a year. Do you think I don't know what you said?” you asked angrily, but knowing that messing with you was her biggest hobby and that, after all, you could consider her something like a friend.

“Mm, you're Dumber,” Angie said.

“Don't listen to her, tesoro,” Donna whispered, pulling you to move, finally leaving the property.

“(Y/N),” an old woman, who recognized you as you headed to your destination, said. You stopped with a smile, separating yourself from your girlfriend and approaching her. “Gods, how nice to see you…”

“Mrs. Ivanovic, you look well,” you said in a friendly manner, shaking the old woman's hands. She looked over your shoulder at the lady in black, lowering her head in respect.

“My dear, if I'm here it's thanks to you… I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't helped me with the cracks in my house,” the woman said, taking your hands in a grateful manner. “Tell me, girl, does she take good care of you?”

“Donna?” you asked, giving away the old woman's question, one that caught the attention of the lady in black. “Oh, of course she does.”

“Every day I pray for you, I pray for her to take pity on your soul,” the old woman whispered, with terrified eyes that discreetly looked at the Lord.

“Don't pray that much, Mrs. Ivanovic, you know you have a privileged place next to the Black Gods,” you joked, saying goodbye to the old woman, who almost ran past the lady.

“Who was it?” Angie asked, indiscreetly.

“Oh, well, a woman I helped a while ago, her house was almost in ruins,” you explained, taking the hand of the brunette again, who seemed to have her gaze fixed on that poor old woman. “Donna? Come on.”

The Lady grunted, and, after greeting a few villagers who came to talk to you, you arrived at your destination. Donna didn't say anything, she seemed nervous.

“My dear, what a joy to see…” Luiza said as she opened the door, turning pale when she saw who was accompanying you. “Lady Beneviento…”

“I'm accompanied today,” you said amused, running a hand over the shoulders of the brunette, who shifted uncomfortably. “I hope it's not a problem.”

“No, of course, of course it’s not,” the woman said, nervously, stepping aside. “It's an honor, my lady.”

Donna nodded kindly, entering the house with you, holding her faithful doll in her arms.

“The Black Gods bless me with your presence, my lady,” Luiza said, walking while playing with her hands, leading you to the living room, where your friends were already waiting.

“Hey, guys!” you said with a smile, greeting your friends effusively, leaving your girlfriend behind, who sighed, surely overwhelmed by so many people.

Everyone turned around with a smile that faded when they saw your companion, staying with their eyes wide open, totally petrified.

“What's wrong with you? Did the Lycan get your tongue?” you joked, approaching your best friend, Elena, patting her back affectionately.

“(Y/N)… Hey, hello,” the young Lupu said, as did the others, staring at Lady Beneviento.

“What are those faces about?” you asked, leaving the muffins on the table, frowning in amusement. “Calm down, she doesn't bite.”

“Speak just for Donna, silly,” Angie said, startling those present, who lowered their heads in terror.

“Oh, come on, relax, pretend she's not here,” you said, gesturing with your hand. “She's here to accompany me, not to judge you for your sins.”

“Please sit, my lady,” Luiza said, indicating a place for Donna to sit, without letting your friends' eyes leave her.

The lady nodded again, sitting down with a stoic pose.

“Would you like a cup of tea, my lady?” the woman offered, to which Donna nodded slowly, staring at your friends, as if she were analyzing their soul.

“Well…” you said, sitting down too, trying to break the tension of the moment. “I see your arm is better than ever, Viktor,” you said, pointing at your friend, who seemed to relax at last, now avoiding eye contact with Donna.

“Oh, yes, much, much better,” the boy said with a smile, taking one of your muffins. “Oh, really, (Y/N), you should sell these things…”

“That's what the baker is for,” you joked, always keeping an eye on the brunette, who remained motionless while Luiza served her tea, trembling.

“I've already lost two teeth because of his bread,” he joked, shaking his head. “Your hands are really divine…”

The lady in black abruptly turned her head towards you, but you ignored her, looking at your friend.

“Can't you stop flattering me for a second?” you said amused, with a blush visible on your cheeks. “Hey, Elena, how's your father feeling?”

“Oh, mu, much better,” the girl said, with a calmer smile. “If it weren't for you, he'd still be sick.”

“Don't thank me, thank Donna's fabulous plant encyclopedia,” you said, grabbing the lady's hand, which seemed to be shaking. “Right, honey?”

They all looked at each other, visibly uncomfortable.

The lady didn't answer, so you shook your head, ignoring her passivity.

“We missed you on bonfire day,” another of your friends said, changing the direction of the conversation, feeling less and less afraid.

“Yes, I told you…” said another of them, laughing amused, receiving a slap from Luiza before he took another one of your muffins.

“Let's pray,” the woman said, clasping her hands and bowing her head towards Donna, feigning fearful respect.

“Oh, come on Luiza, it's not necessary,” you said, indicating to the woman to sit next to you, something she did without taking her eyes off your girlfriend. “Come on, eat, they're freshly made. Do you want one muffin, darling?” you asked Donna, who gently shook her head, her whole body tense.

“You should have come,” your friend Ivan said, amused, when the atmosphere relaxed, almost forgetting that the fearsome Lord was present, something easy, since the lady in black looked more like a piece of furniture than a person.

“No, thanks, I don't want to get lost like last year,” you said, taking a sip of tea.

“You got lost by yourself,” Elena joked, with a calm smile. “I think you were sure you had seen the same tree twice.”

“Well, it was a very similar one,” you said. “Luckily you managed to find me.”

“Find you? I doubt you even knew where you were, (Y/N),” she said, arching her eyebrows and shaking her head.

“That’s true!” Viktor said, laughing mockingly. “We had to carry you… Home.”

You laughed embarrassed. You could sense from her awkward movements that Donna was not amused at all. After all, she was the one who took care of you that night.

“Poker, losers!” Angie shouted, who, unlike her owner, seemed to be at ease in company, taking the savings from three of your friends, who protested with a grunt.

“It seems that Angie is having a good time,” you whispered to the brunette, who looked distractedly at the doll while you calmed her with a soft caress under the table.

“Last year was very funny,” Elena commented, attracting your attention again. “Do you remember the bets?”

You were left breathless for a moment, praying that neither of you would talk about it.

“Yes, of course I remember, (Y/N) lost and had to spend ten minutes locked in the closet with Katia,” one of your friends commented, so you closed your eyes.

As expected, the brunette didn't like that comment, and she folded her teaspoon over itself, dropping it on the table and drawing everyone's attention.

“Oh, wow, do you want another teaspoon?” you asked cautiously, looking at that shattered cutlery. She shook her head. You couldn't see it, but you knew her eye was burning under the black veil.

Without saying anything to you, she reached out her hand for the doll, which moved towards her, floating in the air as she stood up abruptly from the chair.

“I'm going home,” she whispered so only you could hear her. She seemed terribly upset, and it was no surprise.

“Oh, yeah, okay... Um, we're leaving,” you said with an apologetic look. Elena looked at you and waved her hand.

“Are you coming on Friday?” she asked.

You nodded as Donna walked towards the exit, looking at you to follow her.

“Yes, I'll try,” you said in a friendly tone, hugging your friend goodbye, something that made a furious growl sound through the hallway. Donna was already gone.

“I'm, I'm leaving,” you said timidly, leaving the house hastily, trying to catch up the brunette. “Hey, Donna, wait!”

The lady stopped without looking at you, letting you take her arm, almost dragging you through the snow.

“Hey, hey, are you having a crisis?” you asked, noticing her labored breathing. She stopped and looked at you through the fabric.

“No,” she answered dryly, walking back towards the old mansion.

“Oh, okay... Um... Donna, don't go that fast...”

With a hurried step, without saying a word, the waterfall loomed over you again. The lady in black let you go and opened the doors with a furious gasp, pushing the veil away from her face, showing you her irrational anger.

“We had a good time, didn't we?” you said shyly, closing the doors again, with a good girl look.

“E che cazzo, (Y/N)?” she hissed leaving Angie on the floor, breathing heavily.

“What? I, I don't know what you mean…” you stammered, scratching the back of your neck. “What's wrong, honey?”

“What's wrong? How dare you to ask me what's wrong?” the lady said shaking her head, blinking in disbelief.

You rolled your eyes and sighed impatiently, kicking the floor.

“I ask you because I don't know, what’s wrong with you?” you said with your emergency tone, a calm and patient one.

“Why did you want me to go with you? To rub in my face how much everyone loves you?” Donna asked again, with a dark, dangerous look.

“Excuse me?” you said, arching your eyebrows. “Donna... It's not about that.”

“No? And what is it about? Do you know what it's been like for me to endure that kind of strange adoration that everyone has for you?” she asked, furious, pointing at you with her finger.

“Calm down,” you whispered, making a gesture of relaxation with your hands. “You're losing control, honey, come on, breathe...”

“Vaffanculo!” Donna shrieked furiously, moving her hands in an exaggerated way, dragging out her words. “I'm not losing control, you're driving me crazy, (Y/N).”

“How rude,” you joked with a mischievous smile, approaching the lady to caress her face. “Don't be mad, my love... That people love me shouldn't make you feel bad.”

“Oh, of course, of course,” she said, with a nervous laugh, moving away from your reassuring caresses. “I'm very happy to see that everyone loves you, to see that they have fun locking themselves in a closet with you, that they only have nice words for you...”

“If I remember correctly, you like me that way,” you counterattacked, with a haughty tone, not letting yourself be provoked. You were already a black belt in arguments with Donna, in handling the problems of her wounded mind.

“What way?” the doll maker asked, shaking her head, blinking erratically.

“Kind and affectionate,” you said, raising your head. “According to you, that's what made you fall in love with me.”

“Yes, and I'm starting to think I'm not the only one who feels that way,” Donna hissed, without relaxing her hardened features. “Tell me, (Y/N), how many times have you cheated on me with that stupida?”

“Who?” you asked open-mouthed, surprised by that baseless accusation. “Oh, no, you can't be serious…”

“I'm completely serious,” she whispered threateningly, grabbing your arm too tightly, so you protested with a hiss of pain.

“Donna, you, you’re hurting me…” you said, fighting against her grip, against the nails that dug into your skin.

“You’re the one who’s hurting me, (Y/N)… Do you like hugging that stronza? Let's see if you like it the same way when I get rid of her.”

“Okay, that's enough, Donna,” you said, making an effort to free yourself from her grip and give her a slow slap on the cheek.

“Now you hit me… I see everything clearly,” Donna hissed, putting a hand on her bruised cheek. You rolled your eyes, starting to lose patience. “You've never loved me.”

“I hit you so you'll stop saying stupid things. I hugged Elena because she's my friend, friends hug each other, did you know that?” you said with a haughty tone, trying unsuccessfully to reason with her deranged mind.

“So how many friends do you have, (Y/N)?” she asked, not giving in. “Do you hug all of them?”

“Many, I have many friends, Donna,” you hissed, trying to be threatening, something that wouldn't be possible. “But you know what? I'm not surprised you don't know. You haven't had a friend in your entire life…”

Donna recoiled from your words, unable to respond to that terrible truth, one you didn't want to use, one you instantly regretted.

“Donna, honey… I, I didn't mean…” you said in a softer tone, moving closer to take her hand, a hand she pulled away with a snort.

“You said it, (Y/N),” she whispered with a broken voice, looking away from you. “if you said it, it's because you mean it.”

“No, well, I… Let's see, it's true that I…” you stammered, grabbing the brunette by the shoulders, fighting her attempts to get away from you. “My love… Hey, I love you, you know? I love you so much and…”

“You love them too,” Donna whispered, stopping resisting your hold, her eye wet with tears.

“It's not the same,” you explained, relaxing your breathing, controlling hers with gentle movements.

“You don't understand, do you?” she said, starting to sob, shaking her head, totally out of her mind. “You don't understand what it's like to always see you surrounded by people, to see how they smile at you and... Hug you and...”

“I guess I can't help it,” you said with a tender smile, playing with her hands that allowed your soft caresses. “You've fallen in love with a very popular girl…”

“A very beautiful girl,” Donna sighed, closing her eye to calm her demons.

“Well, that's what they say,” you joked wrongly again. Donna didn't seem angry. She simply brought a hand to your cheek.

“It hurts me, tesoro, it hurts me to think that someone could... Could take you away from me... Y-you're right, I, I've always been alone and... I don't... I don't know what...” she said with a broken voice, passing her hand over your face, touching, feeling all your beauty.

“Shh…” you whispered, moving a little closer, swaying your body, closing your eyes and rubbing your forehead against hers. “Shut up, my love… My precious Donna… You have nothing to fear…”

“You know that no matter how many times you tell me… I will always be afraid of losing you,” the lady whispered, placing your hair, letting her body move with yours.

“Well, but I can do something to make you believe me,” you said with a tender smile, running a finger along her lips. “There is something I don't do with anyone else…”

Slowly, you approached her lips, kissing them softly, savoring the salty taste of her desperation, of her irrational fear. She deepened the kiss, as if that romantic and simple act had been enough to calm her. You knew it wasn't like that, but at least, it seemed to have an effect.

“See? I only do this with you…” you murmured with a tender voice, biting your lips. “I'm yours, darling, only yours…”

“Only mine…” Donna whispered, blinking in confusion, as if she was thinking about something. “You're right, you're mine…”

Her voice became dangerous. Her hands gripped your face tightly, dragging you into a much messier, deeper, more impatient kiss. Her hands began to get out of control, traveling down your body, clawing at your legs under your dress. The gasps were not long in coming.

“You're mine!” the lady shouted with a furious growl, pushing you roughly against one of the tables in the hall.

You gasped in surprise, but not annoyed, letting the lady hug you from behind, kiss your neck wildly, your breasts were an easy prey for her hands.

“Donna,” you sighed with a smile, letting the heat replace the jealousy, letting the brunette's surprisingly wild attitude continue.

Donna was always affectionate, maybe too much. She was always gentle, always holding you like you were something fragile, kissing you softly, making love to you slowly, romantically. That possessive attitude was totally different, but you didn't know you liked it that much.

“You're not going to abandon me... You're mine...” she whispered nervously, pulling up your dress as your body was covered in kisses, as your back lowered to give her better access to her desires. “And I'm going to prove it to you.”

“Mm, okay,” you said amused, silenced by a hand on your mouth, as your underwear was stripped from your body with a furious tug, letting it slide down your ankles.

“Don't... Talk...” Donna hissed, pressing her hand against your mouth, with a dark, but exciting tone. “Only do it if you're going to say you're mine, I just want to hear you say that, is it clear?”

You nodded, arching your eyebrows at that abruptness, when her fingers went down your wetness, when they ran through your folds, deforming them for what was to come.

“Now you're going to... stay still,” the lady in black whispered, playing with her dress, releasing her throbbing erection and passing it through your wet entrance, causing a moan and a tremor of your hips, which desperately sought more contact.

“Mm, Donna...” you moaned, repressing the pleasure that simple touch caused in your body, the sensation of her hard shaft moving freely through your folds.

Definitely the wild Donna was climbing positions.

“Hey! Tell me,” you protested when she entered you roughly, stretching your body hastily, forcing your walls to accommodate the intruder. “Donna, you know you're big... It-it hurts...”

“Shut up!” she squealed, moving slowly, making her way into your wetness, giving you a strong tug on your hair. “If you love me, you'll have to hold on. I don't want to waste time.”

“Oh, okay,” you said amused, moaning in pleasure at all those sensations, at how exciting it was to see her out of her mind while she was inside of you. “Mm… Honey…”

“Do any of your friends do this to you? Huh?” she said nervously, starting to move when the wetness of your entrance allowed her, sliding effortlessly, with your walls praising, squeezing her erection intensely.

“Not at all,” you joked, following her frenetic rhythm with your hips, getting a spank for your boldness.

“I said, shut up… Just nod, doll,” Donna hissed, scratching the skin of your hips, moving your body to her will, making that table move dangerously.

You obeyed, hiding your face, euphoric with pleasure, moaning discreetly as she took you intensely, quickly, but making you feel the greatest pleasure possible.

“Doll… I like it,” you said among moans, leaning so she could move better, so it would be easier for her to manipulate your hips, to dig her nails into your skin.

“Do you like it? Good…” she said, moaning too, slowing down the rhythm of her thrusts, taking you slower, enjoying the journey her body made inside yours. “Because that's what you are… La mia bambola…”

“Mm, yes… Yours…” you repeated, losing control of your movements, moaning scandalously, hitting the table because of your inability to hold her while she moved inside of you, while she deformed your wet walls.

“Mine, only mine... If, if someone lays a hand on you I will...” she said, fighting against her own pleasure, against the warm, wet embrace of your body in hers, stimulating it with your own movements.

“No one will lay a hand on me… I’m yours, your doll… Only yours… Do whatever you want with me, my love,” you moaned, fighting the impulses that alerted you of your imminent release, one that her rough and wild attitude caused to advance.

“That's it… Good doll…” she whispered, hardening her thrusts, controlling the trembling of your body with a firm hand on your back, moving gracefully as she moaned, while completely dominating you. “Mine…”

“Donna, I'm, I'm close…” you said nervously, with your legs shaking when the lady in black slowed down, torturing you, knowing that you weren't lying.

“Is my little doll close? You're such a good doll…” she said amused, grabbing your neck, leaning it back so she could capture your lips. “Ask me, doll. Ask me to let you venire…”

“Mm, please…” you whispered, leaning forward again along her evil laughter, surely due to the clumsy movements of your hips, which were desperately trying to regain that overwhelming sensation.

“Louder…” Donna hissed, moving painfully slowly, grabbing your hair again.

You, totally sunk in pleasure, were unable to say a word, earning a strong tug followed by a loud spank.

“Louder, doll!” the lady shrieked.

“Please, Donna! I'm a good doll! Let me cum!” you said with your voice broken by pleasure.

“That's the way I like it,” she said, satisfied, fulfilling your wishes, resuming her thrusts, holding your hips, not letting you even think about moving away.

Your orgasm came soon, forcing your body to tense, to arch, held by her arms, overstimulated by the continuous movements of her hips, which seemed not to want to stop.

“Cazzo…” the lady moaned, holding you tighter as she released herself inside of you, unable to resist the involuntary movements of your walls. Her heat filled you in a terribly pleasurable way, like a wet caress, claiming you, letting her seed mix with your arousal with a furious growl.

Then there was a moment of silence, only interrupted by your disordered breathing as your bodies relaxed.

“Donna…” you sighed moving away so she could get out of you, pulling down your dress and turning around. “It was…”

“I'm sorry,” she said, her forehead sweaty, lowering her hands to your waist. “I, I went too far…”

“What? No, I…” you said amused, shifting uncomfortably due to the dampness of your legs, turning her face to look at you. “It, it was great, my love, different…”

“So… do you like being my doll?” Donna asked, with a cautious tone, frowning.

You nodded, giving her a quick kiss on the lips, hugging her affectionately.

“I'm yours, Donna. I'll always be yours…”

[fantasy-relax]

Punishment (NSFW)

Re.Lover Donna Beneviento x Mc (AMAB Reader)

The day started out normal, with some customers acting like decent people and others who believed they should be treated like royalty because of these particular ones you'd rather work the counter than let your sweet girlfriend deal with them.

These three months had been perfect, the headmistress hadn´t returned to the store, Angie was more than happy with your relationship and Cassandra had finally stopped flirting with you.

Everything was so perfect that you had forgotten Donna's biggest flaw, so to speak.

Her tremendous jealousy and possessiveness.

Which at this precise moment were evident in the intense glare that the woman was directing at you while you were talking with a classmate, which you were unaware of since your attention was elsewhere.

-“Thank you so much, your notes saved my life” -The girl rubbed your arm gently while she smiled at you. - What can I do to pay you?

Stop touching me would be a good way.

Leaving her grasp subtly and maintaining a safe distance, you respond trying your best to sound cordial – “You don't need to pay me, is fine don’t worry.”

The girl pouted and made such cute puppy dog ​​eyes that your gay ass couldn't help but blush a little.

- “Come on, I passed the semester because of you, ask me whatever you want” - She look at you from top to bottom which gave you some amusement since you were wearing an smock that wasn´t attractive in your opinion - “Besides, I'm sure that a break from work won't be bad for you”

You didn't think much before answering. - “You're right about that, it has been a hectic few days”- A few days ago there was a wedding in which a large order was placed in the shop, Angie even came to help, a day of rest with your girlfriend didn't sound bad.

-“Then-”

-“Excuse me, if you're not going to buy something, please leave” -Donna had gotten between the two of you, using her body as a barrier against the girl's gaze. You couldn't see your girlfriend's expression, but from the look on your classmate's face it was obvious that its wasn't a nice one.

- “I'm leaving, sorry for the inconvenience” - Before walking through the door she turned to give you a wink - “See you in class, MC”

- “See you later” – Like the idiot that you are, you responded automatically.

- “MC” - You swallowed as you heard her speak in an unhappy tone without turning to look at you. – “You can prepare the bouquet of marigolds; I will attend the counter while you finish”

You didn't think twice before fleeing towards the nursery.

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

You were done in minutes and headed to the counter, hoping your girlfriend was in a better mood.

But when you arrived you didn't see anyone, before you could search for her an old woman entered the store, leaving the arrangement on the table you stood at the counter. While the woman was looking at the pots around her, you felt a hand touching your thigh, looking down you met the mischievous gaze of Donna who was kneeling under the counter without her smock or gloves.

- “Donna, what are you doing there?” - You whispered with your face red because that look never meant anything good for your heart.

- “You need a break, don't you? I'll help you relax” - Before you could process what was happening, she had moved your apron and lowered your zipper - “Keep your eyes forward, or do you want us to be discovered?” – You looked ahead while you felt how she took out your member from his boxers. – “Poor thing, have I neglected you so much?” – The eldest commented because the traitor of your little friend was more than ready to go with just being touched. – “Let me remedy it”-

Closing your eyes you bit your lip to contain your moan as you felt Donna lick the tip while she rubbed the base gently, the black-haired woman alternates between licking and sucking without stopping her hand.

- “I'll take these, please” - You opened your eyes violently, making the old woman look at you curiously. - "Are you okay? You are very red, young lady.”

“I *Cough*” You coughed to control your voice. - “I'm fine ma'am, it's just the heat.”-You wrapped the flowers quickly, staying close to the counter – “It would be ten dollars.”

The woman paid you with a bill and you almost threw away the change when your girlfriend moved your foreskin back to put the head completely in her mouth.

- “Thank you young lady, be careful with the heat”-

Being alone again you looked at your girlfriend ready to scold her, but the words died in your mouth when she engulfed your penis completely, moving her head slowly while her tongue touched all your sensitive parts.

The bell rang and a man entered.

-“Excuse me, you have red flowers”-

You swallowed before answering- “H-to-his right”- Your voice was shaking you were so close.

The man turned around observing the flowers that you mentioned.

You gripped the counter firmly and your hips moved slowly, you were so close.

But Donna stopped, taking you out of her mouth and squeezing the base with one hand and your testicles with the other, stopping your orgasm.

- “Donna”-You pleaded with a whisper, but the cruel woman only smiled at you as she moved her hand to squeeze the tip tightly.

-“Don’t you have Lilies?” – The man spoke while you took a deep breath to control yourself.

. “Lilies? - Yes, they had, but they were in the nursery, Donna seemed to remember it too because in a matter of a seconds your girlfriend's skillful hands put your erection back in your boxers and adjusted your pants.

You didn't want to move, but the quicker you attended him the quicker you could reach your climax, ensuring the apron covered the bulge in your pants you headed to the Nursery.

The man was slow to decide, forcing you to explain the meaning of each flower and their basic care to him with the blood accumulated in an annoying area.

When you finished, you walked back to the counter, directing a pleading look at your girlfriend who moved your apron to just touch you over your pants.

- “Maybe we should stop” - Your mind agreed, but your libido screamed otherwise, with one hand you lowered your zipper, you sighed as you pull out your dick, you stroked yourself for a few moments before a hand stopped you.

-“Hands on the table and look ahead, Tesoro” - You did what she asked, trembling with need as you felt her tongue go from the base to the tip while she caressed your testicles.

The bell rang and your suffering continued.

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

-“Fif-ty, sixty, ugh ni-nety”-

It was time to close and you were trying to concentrate on counting the day's profit while your sadistic girlfriend kept you deep in her throat, you could feel the hot air coming out of her nose, her tongue caressing the head, the slight vibration of her moans suppressed by the cock in her mouth and if you turned to look at her you could notice the tears that covered her eyelashes.

The cruel woman had denied you an orgasm for hours by keeping you standing while she spent her time alternating between small licks and kisses to quick sucks and rubs, biting you gently when you tried to take your pleasure in your hands.

She was going to kill you.

-“Two hundred and thirty, that's all!” – You looked at the black-haired woman who looked back at you through half-lidded eyes. - "Please"-

The devilish woman finally took pity on you, with both hands resting on your thighs she raised her head quickly, sucking the tip on the way up and licking it on the way down; You grabbed her hair with one hand as you moved your hips in rhythm with her movements.

-“Donna!”-With your hand in her hair, the black-haired woman remained still while you finished inside her throat she took all without spilling a drop.

You let go of her and fully leaned against the counter, whining softly as you felt her slowly lick your dick before putting it back into your boxers and adjusting your clothes. With a light push she moved your weak body to get out from under the counter.

-“Ouch, my legs are killing me”- The black-haired woman stretched and then rubbed her knees.- “I'm going to prepare everything to close, rest for a while Dolcezza”

A kiss on your head and a soft touch on your back.

-“I'm not done with you yet”-

This woman wanted to kill you...

And what a way to die.

[redfish-blu]

Historically accurate (enough) Ben Tallmadge be upon ye.

Explanation and history spiel under the cut <3

TURN did better than most period pieces with costuming so I didn’t really have to change that much (flowers for Donna Zakowska), but my own historical costuming brain was like But What If I Did?? Now I obviously took some liberties here for the sake of clarity and The Rule of Cool, but I’ll explain them when we cross the bridge. I’m also not a historical fashion expert. My end goal for this was to integrate real life concepts into the stylized depictions of the TV show.

Until around 1780, the Continental Army was notably impoverished, and had no standard uniform (and arguably it never would). Soldiers and militiamen simply wore their civilian clothes, and high-ranking officers wore repurposed uniforms from other conflicts if they had them. But for the most part, it was hard to distinguish the average private from a commissioned service member. To differentiate ranks, color-coded sashes and cockades were worn around the body and pinned to the hat. These would indicate to everyone who held which title with no uniform to go off of.

Season 1 Costume:

Some background: 1776 is widely agreed upon as the terrible horrible no good very bad year for the continental army. They were beat down and penniless. If the Americans were to ever loose the AWI, 1776 would have been the year it happened. Washington was pulling the army up by their threadbare bootstraps. The monumental loss of New York to the Brits and subsequent fleeing of the continental army to Connecticut was the main sore spot here, and in that chaos is where TURN season 1 starts.

Ben Tallmadge in TURN is a major and and Aid De Camp (he might not be officially named as an ADC but for all intents and purposes he replaced Hamilton for like 2 whole seasons so I gave him the title anyways). Prior to Washington begging congress to order uniforms in 1780, Ben would have been frolicking around in his plain clothes for the majority of the war. Men’s plain clothes of this era included the linen shirt, waistcoat, cravat, coat, breeches, stockings, buckled shoes, and a hat.

The reason cockades were chosen to denote rank is because wearing a hat in public was actually considered common decency. It was improper (or at the very least lacking manners) to not wear one out. Every man would be wearing a hat, thus they would always have their chosen cockade on display. Ben wears a red one, which signals that he is a major. In the show the hat custom is forgone in favor of actually being able to see the actors’ faces (and their amazing hair), which is totally understandable. I’ve restored Ben’s hat in my design, though.

Another thing I have added is a pair of spatterdashes, which are cloth sock things that buckle over one’s shoes and shins to keep the mud and gunk from ruining the stockings and soaking down into your shoes. Ben spends most of his time outside, and has no issued pair of boots (which weren’t really the most efficient or comfortable form of footwear at the time anyways) on account of the No Money thing, so he wears his spatterdashes to make his poor buckled shoes last longer.

In reality, Ben would have been wearing this utterly dazzling outfit until the end of season 3. However, I’ve decided to suspend the historical record and let him have a Season 2 glow-up into the blue-coated major we all know and love.

Season 2 Costume:

So after 1780 (or I guess 1777 in this case), Congress decided to fund Washington’s request for regimental uniforms across the continental army. Not everyone was wearing a blue and white coat, but Ben Tallmadge was. Turn’s portrayal of the iconic garment has the top of the coat unbuttoned to make it look less goofy, which I’ve kept here because I agree with the change. His coat is also fairly loose-fitting, which is another thing I kept because it gives the boyish yet elegant look befitting of an inexperienced yet determined continental major. Tallmadge would have only been nineteen/twenty years old at this time (the average age in the American army was sixteen), so highlighting his youth was a good decision on TURN’s part.

Buff/white (more like off-white) waistcoats and breeches were another standard item worn by all soldiers and ranking officers (circumstances permitting).

The green sash indicates his Aid De Camp status, which I didn’t include in the S1 look because it would have looked extremely strange. These may have been out of fashion by the time uniforms were introduced, but we see Washington wearing his own blue sash throughout the entire series, and Ben is the king of idolizing that man (and boasting that Washington considers him important), so I have him wearing it.

His red cockade is gone, instead the gold insignias mounted on his shoulders (these were introduced by John Hancock in 1779) tell his rank as a major. In place of a red cockade is a black and white one, which became the standard throughout all the ranks. He could have worn a cockade designed specifically for majors and ADC’s, but I haven’t seen any evidence of these being used save for hearsay and they elevate the look from foppish to full on decorative ice cream, so I excluded them.

Now down to the boots. I swiped these directly off of George Washington’s uniform, which they have displayed at the Smithsonian. It’s more likely Ben would have still been wearing that trusty spatterdashes+buckled shoes combo (this was the standard of the British forces at the time), but to honor The Rule of Cool I let him have those genre defining boots. He does see more combat on horseback as the series progresses, so the boots aren’t entirely inappropriate.

Conclusion:

Despite my obvious passion for this topic, I understand why TURN made the costuming choices it did. Having the continental army just be a group of Random Guys would have been confusing to the average viewer who does not know all this trivial nonsense. And to their credit, TURN actually did dress the nameless extras pretty appropriately throughout the whole series. I just think that showing the continentals in their true “rag-tag volunteer army in need of a shower” form, then have them progress visually throughout the show would have been a brave and effective storytelling choice. It would have been a bit ahead of its time, but now that it’s been ten years I don’t think the creators would care about me dogging on them.

[joestvr]

༺✮ atashi no kimyona jinsei // あたしの奇妙な人生 ✮༻

༺✮ summary: five years after the fall of diavolo, you, y/n romano, who was sent away to japan at 11 to further your studies—find the courage to come back to naples after living out your schoolgirl & gaijin university student facade in morio-chou to see how your clan’s worsened—as well as become the “donna” of your father’s gang, il terrore, while your older brother is the real leader behind the scenes, just using you as a front. with plans to murder your clan, you seek the particularly handsome young don of passione for friendship. with your tyrant father’s intervention, your friendship with the don turns to something you never saw coming.

★ 1 // il terrore

★ 2 // bella

★ 3 // viva romano

★ 4 // morte al romano

★ 5 // sorellina

★ 6 // amore

a/n: me pretending this chapter isn't short af

tw for whatever idk

1 week later

After a week of trying not to kill yourself or packing your bags and fleeing Italy, rotting in your bed and rethinking your life decisions, you finally forced yourself to get up.

In a daze, you took a taxi and made your way to where Trish was staying. AKA: Giorno's mansion and Bucciarati gang household.

You rung the doorbell and prayed Trish would answer it, and she did not. It was Bucciarati... He was quite handsome, you noticed this from the first time you met him. Charming, too.

"Ah, Donna Romano." He smiled charmingly, inviting you inside.

"Please, there's no need for honorifics." You stepped inside the beautiful foyer. It was just as Trish had described.

You wondered if Giorno would buy a house like this for you after marriage.

"Bella, it is, then." He kissed your hand and looked up, "Trish is just upstairs."

"Thank you." You squeezed his hand and nearly ran up the stairs in excitement.

You burst through her room and shut it, locking the door. "Triiishh~"

"Babe, what happened?" She stood up from her bed and hugged you.

"Bucciarati's kinda hot! That dark hair, eyes, and charming smile~" You giggled and sat down in bed with her.

Her smile faded into a cringe as she put her hand on your shoulder. "Babe, please don't say that again. Bucciarati's like a father to us."

"He could totally be a DILF then! Isn't he so cute?" You said through your laughs.

"Gross."

You chuckled and hugged her more.

"Y/n, are you okay? You seem a little..." she furrowed her eyebrows, "Are you high?"

You stopped laughing. "What the hell? No!"

"You must be high off of insanity, if not a certain substance..." She mumbled incoherently.

"I'm just trying to be positive." You replied increduosly.

"Is everything okay?" She replied, starting to get concerned. You always acted delirious like this when you were-- more or less, depressed.

You shrugged. "Um, I'm getting married off, so..."

"WHAT?!"

★★★★★★★

On your way out, you noticed Giorno waiting by the door. You felt a sense of dread, he had probably known about the arrangement by now, but you hoped he wouldn't mention it.

"Giorno." His name left your lips with a sigh as you stared into his beautiful emerald eyes, feeling solemn. You put on your heels and coat, picking up your purse, a little too close to him for comfort. The tension was thick in the air, making your breath hitch in your throat.

"Bella. Everything okay?" He said in his usual smooth, charming voice, with a sincere smile. His tall figure towering over you, his golden hair was down, curled in intricate ways, the familiar scent of his cologne making you crave more, the setting sun's light hitting his face so perfectly.

What was this feeling?

"Yes," you said in a raspy voice after a moment of silence, looking down.

"Do you need a ride? I don't mind."

"No, thank you, I can just walk." You shook your head, moving a few strands of hair from your face, then tried to walk past him.

"Please, I insist." He pleaded, taking your hand, making heat rise to your cheeks and look up at him. His warm calloused fingertips brushed over the bandages that covered your hands, and he looked down, a pained expression coming over his face at the sight. How embarrassing, you thought, wanting to cry.

You immediately pulled your hand away, frightened at his sudden touch, at a loss for words.

"Sorry." He noticed your tense demeanor and took a step back, not wanting to make you uneasy. That's a sight for sore eyes, you thought. Vince was never like that.

"No... I—You can take me home..." You mustered out nervously.

"Are you sure? I don't want to make you uncomfortable." He said with such a tender and caring voice, you would melt. When has Vince ever treated you like this?

"Maybe this won't be so bad... Being with Giorno." 

"It—It's okay, I really appreciate it." You managed to smile, avoiding eye contact with him.

He grabbed a key and opened the door for you, letting you go first.

He went to the garage and opened it, revealing the most gorgeous burgundy Lamborghini. You bit your lip and squealed, your apprehension suddenly fading away.

Your second most beloved interest besides fashion: Cars. You loved cars as much as you loved fashion, which said a lot.

"What a beautiful car, GioGio!" You smiled wide, looking up at him.

He smiled back down at you. "Not as beautiful as you, amore."

"Waaah... He's mega rich... He really is a Don..." 

He unlocked the car, the winged doors going up, allowing you to sit inside the luxurious passenger seat.

He got in and started the car, pulling out of the driveway with ease and driving smoothly.

After five minutes of silence, he sighed deeply and kept his eyes on the road, and spoke up. "Y/n, if you are not happy with this arrangement... I will gladly break it off. I don't want to force you into anything." His tone was serious, but so loving.

"No, Giorno, I— I don't have anything against this..." You mumbled earnestly.

"Please, amore," he pleaded, "I would never do anything to force you into this engagement and I will not be angry if you're not comfortable going through with it. I understand if you don't want to, we don't know each other very well."

You shook your head. "I'm willing to give this a try. We can get to know each other."

"As you wish." He nodded.

A few minutes later, he stopped at a red light and looked down at your hands, then back up at you. "May I ask what happened to your hands, Bella?"

"...Just an accident while cooking." You responded gravelly, then cleared your throat.

"Are you sure? Doesn't look like it." He pried, frowning.

"Don't worry about it." You murmured.

"I should heal this for you. My stand ability—"

"No, it's fine, really." You interrupted.

"Very well then." He muttered.

The car ride was silent until he arrived at Alexander's estate.

"Thanks... Giorno." You forced a smile and quickly got out.

You opened the door and all the lights were off, it was also totally quiet. You had an eerie, sinking feeling as you took your shoes off and quietly walked inside.

"Alex...ander?" You called out, "Alima?"

You walked slowly into the living room, your heart dropping as you saw a trail of blood slowly traveling across the floor.

You came closer and gasped.

Alexander. Alima. Leo. Elena.

Slashes across their chests, their backs... You looked down at your hands and they were suddenly covered in blood, your katana stained with blood in your right hand.

"No..." You whispered, "This isn't real..."

"No! Cheri Lady..." You called out your stand, only to hear her soft giggles as she morphed her appearance to yours, face and clothes stained in blood.

"This is your future, Y/n." She said, grinning, "Isn't this what you want?"

"No! This is all but an illusion..." You whispered, your vision spiraling. You felt wetness running down your cheeks, but they weren't tears.

You wiped your cheeks and saw the blood flowing from your eyes. A side effect of something Cheri Lady's abilities rarely allowed you to do—A premonition. A look into the future.

"Your hatred will drive you to a dark, dark place, Y/n... The grudge you've held in your heart for so many years is fueling your yearning for vengeance..." She laughed more.

"No, Cheri Lady!" You cried out.

"This is why I've allowed you to have a glimpse into the future, Y/n. Don't you remember the last time?" She laughed deeply, "You saw your handsome friend—Josuke-kun, was it? Murdered by that killer. And your other friends, too."

"I-I—I prevented Yoshikage Kira from killing my friends, y-you showed me how everything would play out..." You stuttered anxiously.

"Now, here you will." She opened her arms and smiled at the scene before you.

"I—"

"But wait. Isn't the rest of your family what you want?"

You turned and you found yourself in the Romano populated neighborhood where all of your extended family lived. Blood smeared on the windows and walls of each house, bodies with slashes across their backs and chests littered each house. The influence of your longing for a normal life—the grudges you aimlessly held in your heart over the years desperately whispering, "Make this your reality. They're nothing to you."

"Come back to reality, Alexander's come back home." She interrupted your psychological turmoil, then vanished. Her giggles echoed in your head.

You turned around, seeing Alexander standing by the door taking his jacket off. "Y/n."

"Alexander." You muttered, regaining your composure.

"Another glimpse into the future, sorellina?" He smiled almost mockingly. Just like his father.

You shook your head and went to grab a tissue to wipe the blood running down your cheeks.

"You should talk to Vince, cuore. He's a mess."

You stopped. Oh shit.

You totally forgot about Vince.

"Ok." You replied, raising your eyebrows.

"I told him about your... engagement. Stupid motherfucker punched me in the face." Alexander hissed and took off his hat.

Yikes.

"Yikes." You remarked.

"He said it's my fault, how I'm just Father's puppet, I don't care about you, blah blah blah." Alexander rolled his eyes.

"Maybe he's right." You shrugged.

He frowned then went back to a normal expression. "Anyway— after we roughed each other up, he started tearing up. The poor guy felt so bad after your argument."

"Ok." You nodded.

"He really wants to apologize, but he can't imagine you with another guy besides him."

"Ok. I don't really give a fuck, so..." You shrugged.

"God, it's like talking to an unemotional psychopath whenever I'm with you." Alexander scowled.

"Ok."

"Where's my wife?" He asked.

You shrugged again. "Dunno. Housewife stuff. It's not like she has a job to go to...her university degrees are collecting dust on the mantel."

"Why don't you get a goddamn job and stop wasting my money all day? Or maybe go to grad school and do something with your life?" He retorted condescendingly.

"Should I make dinner, my handsome and kind brother?" You said mockingly.

"No, I'm afraid you might cut yourself again." He leaned in and mumbled as he took your bandaged hand and glared down at you coldly.

"You don't know anything." You muttered as you met his gaze, eyes beaming a slight red from your stand's instigation.

He gripped your wrist tighter, not letting you pull away. "Those eyes, sorellina... What do you see?"

"I see you dead at my feet." You murmured, a smile creeping up against your lips.

His expression darkened and he shook his head. "Just me? Or the entire clan, too?"

You smirked in response, staying quiet.

He let go of your wrist, shoving you away. "You traitorous, conspiring—"

"Ah, ah, Alexander, I see the truth behind your meaningless lies. No need to curse me." You interrupted, your hands shaking for the release of spilling blood.

"Maybe I should kill him."

"You shouldn't have come back here, Y/n. I can just see that murderous look in your eyes. It's sickening, waking up every day and seeing you plotting on all of us." Alexander replied, rubbing his eyes.

"It's because of you, Alessandro. You made me this way."

He sighed deeply and rubbed his forehead. "I'm not some man you can use your pretty face to manipulate, Y/n. I'm not Vince, nor your little boytoy the Don."

"Don Giovanna is lucky to be betrothed to me. I'm the most sought after woman in Italy." You smirked more.

"Dio mio, Y/n... Your arrogance is painful to listen to." Your brother winced at your arrogance.

"But I'm the most beautiful woman around, na? I know how those mobsters speak of me when I'm not around." You retorted pridefully.

"You don't know shit about how our organization works, Y/n. You're just a pretty face among a crowd of lustful men." He grew more intimidating as he leered over you, making you a little nervous.

"S-Stop it, Alessandro, I'm not a child anymore." You retorted, taking a step away from him.

He grabbed your collar. "Why do you think they bow down to you so easily, hm? Because they respect you?"

Sweat started to form on your forehead and you put an innocent, fearful look on your face. Alexander couldn’t stand it.

“Get out of my face,” he murmured, shoving you to the ground roughly as he let go, “I don’t know how you turned out this way…”

“And how exactly did I turn out?” You inquired.

“Manipulative and conceited. Get the fuck out of my sight.” He snapped.

You got on your feet dizzily and smirked, walking upstairs.

“M-Me? Manipulative? How could you say that…” You whispered to yourself, making a false hurt expression.

You were more manipulative than you’d like to admit, but so what? There’s nothing wrong with wanting to have some control over other’s emotions.

Your judgement was clouded. It was hard to tell what was good and bad, everything was just a blur for you.

The influence of your hatred had driven you this far.

Murdererous intent, bloodlust, invasive thoughts-- You were just one more argument with Alexander away from going to the Romano estate and slaughtering everyone.

You sighed shakily, running a hand through your hair.

"Whatever." Your conflicted expression faded into an unaffected one.

"I did this to myself."

[izzymissi]

BelaDonna. Forbidden love from Bela pov. Bela x Donna, I haven't written in a while I'm sorry!!!

I hate how she makes me feel.

Donna. The quiet, unsettling doll maker who hides behind that veil like it shields her from the world. Or maybe, it shields the world from her. I don’t know which anymore. What I do know, what I can't escape, is the way she lingers in my mind. It’s maddening.

We barely speak when we see each other. Just fleeting glances, the brush of our arms when she hands me something — small, insignificant moments, but they haunt me. I can’t breathe when she’s near. And what’s worse… I like it.

I shouldn’t. She’s beneath me, an outsider. My mother would tear her apart if she even suspected the thoughts I’ve had. The thoughts I can’t seem to shake. Donna Beneviento, the broken, quiet recluse, has me… yearning.

I hate her for it.

But I can’t stop. I can’t stop thinking about her lips under that veil, wondering if they’d be soft or cold. I imagine pulling it away, finally seeing her eyes—those damned, hidden eyes—and the fear and desire battling in them. Would she look at me with the same intensity that keeps me awake at night? Or would she flee like everyone else does when they see the monster I’ve become?

Donna wouldn’t. I know she wouldn’t. She’s not like the others. She’s strong in ways no one can see, hiding herself away but never showing fear. There’s something about that... I can’t help but respect it. Admire it. Crave it.

But I’m not a fool. This isn’t some fairy tale where the monster and the misunderstood outcast find solace in each other’s arms. This is a nightmare. She’s fragile. Too fragile. And if I were to give in, if I were to reach out, I would destroy her.

I think that’s what terrifies me the most. Not that I desire her—no, that’s the easiest part to admit. But that I would ruin her.

She’s like porcelain, brittle and delicate. And I... I’m a Dimitrescu. We don’t get to love. We take, we conquer, we crush anything that doesn’t bow to us. But Donna... she wouldn’t bow, would she? And I can’t crush her. The thought of it… it makes me sick.

What am I even saying?

I can’t allow myself to want her. I shouldn’t. It’s wrong. Mother would never allow it. I would never forgive myself. Yet, every time she’s near, the world narrows to her. Every word, every glance, every breath—it consumes me.

I’ve tried to stay away. God knows I’ve tried. But I find myself in her orbit again and again, like she’s the moon pulling me against my will. I think she knows it too, and that scares me even more.

What if she feels the same?

No. I can’t let myself think that. I won’t. It’s too dangerous. For both of us. But the thought of her hands touching mine, even for a second, makes my skin burn. She would melt under my touch, and not in the way I want. But God, I want it so much.

I want to know what she tastes like. I want to know if her lips would tremble beneath mine, if her breath would hitch when I pull her closer.