#i wanted to try something new but. it’s not going well so far

[hottiesforhockey]

no nut november ⎜q.hughes

pairings: quinn hughes x afab!reader genre: romance ⎜smut ⎜angst? warnings: no nut november ⎜teasing ⎜ mentions of a bet/deal ⎜mention of sharing sex life ⎜fingering ⎜light dirty talk ⎜quinn second guessing his life choices ⎜ masturbation ⎜finger sucking ⎜insecure reader⎜hints at breaking up ⎜p in v ⎜ swearing ⎜praise ⎜no protection (please wrap it before you tap it)⎜ synopsis: quinn makes a deal with his brothers - he never realised how hard this would be for the both of you. word count: 3.8k authors note:  Quinn was the clear winner of my poll to decide who would star in this fic - so I hope all 39.6% of you enjoy. do we want a sequel? called dicked down december

(unedited)

DAY ONE

Quinn was only one day in and he already knew he wasn’t going to make it through the month. He knew now that he should’ve never let Jack drag him into the deal that most of the New Jersey Devils participated in every year - the winner coming out with a donation to the charity of their choice and the ability to pronounce themselves as “not whipped” by their girlfriends. 

But Quinn was very much whipped. 

Your whip was so tight around him, he could barely breathe as he watched you wander around the house in just your towel, grabbing your clothes fresh out of the dryer for the game later today. Quinn’s fingers twitched at his sides, as he resists the urge to reach out for you - knowing the only way he was going to get through this month was going to be by avoiding touching you at any and all costs. He wanted nothing more than to abandon this ridiculous bet and wrap his arms around you, pulling that towel away inch by inch. Every day, this month-long challenge to abstain from any intimate contact with you felt like it was going to kill him.

He took a deep breath, his jaw clenching as you glanced over your shoulder and flashed him a teasing smile. You knew exactly what you were doing to him - you had to know. 

But how did you know? He certainly didn’t tell you, and he made his brothers swear to secrecy. 

Quinn's gaze was glued to you, a mix of frustration and longing evident in his eyes. He tried to focus on anything else, on his suit laid out on the bed, or on his phone buzzing in his sweatpants pocket. Anything but the sway of your hips as you walk down the hallway - or the hinting smile you send him as you reach the doorway to the bedroom, inviting him to follow you. 

The sight of you, so effortless and beautiful, had his mind completely tangled.

"You okay there, babe?” you asked, clearly confused by his discomfort and unwillingness to trail behind you. He nods his head with a tight smile as you shrug and disappear from sight, Quinn letting out a long groan as he rubs his hands down his face - cursing his brothers in his mind for what they are doing to him. 

“One day down” he whispers, exhaling slowly. “Only twenty-nine more to go.”

+

+

DAY FIFTEEN

“One of you two must’ve told her something.” Quinn sneers at his phone. 

“We didn’t tell her anything, I swear on my life.” Luke retorts, making the sound of Jack’s laughter ring even louder in his ear, as Quinn waves goodbye to some of his teammates leaving the rink after practice - Quinn’s frown deepens as Jack tries to compose himself, only to laugh even harder as soon as he calms down. 

“Maybe she figured it out on her own.” Jack suggests one his laughing finally dies down, a few chuckles spilling out before he lets out a grunt of pain, presumably caused by the youngest of the brothers. 

“Well she knows something - she’s never been like this before.” Quinn sighs, rubbing his hand over his face, a habit that’s becoming far more common since the month began. “She’s ravenous, any chance she gets she’s trying to take my pants off.” Quinn’s words set his younger brother off again. 

“Look we promise we didn’t say anything to her - but maybe you should.” Luke suggests softly, the sound of Jack’s laugh quieting in the background as Quinn assumes his youngest brother walks away from the noise. “I’m sure she’d try to take things easier on you if you told her what you were doing - it’s for charity.” Luke voice is hopeful but Quinn knows that he’s wrong - his girlfriend would rather sell her soul then help him win a bet with his idiot brothers. 

“It’s fine. I’ll figure it out.” Quinn says into the phone before hanging up not waiting for his brother to respond. Quinn makes his short journey home - his apartment only a five minute drive from the arena, the apartment almost silent when he walks through the door - Quinn surprised not to see you perched on the couch like you usually are. 

The small muffled whimper coming from down the hall catching him even more by surprise. 

“Babe?” He calls out into the apartment, sliding off his shoes at the front door, placing his keys on their hook besides the front door. He waits for a moment, another whimper cutting through the silence. Quinn takes slow, quiet steps down the hallway, your soft sounds getting louder as he reaches the closed bedroom door - the softer whisper of his name giving him pause. 

“Baby? Are you okay in there?” He calls through the door, knowing that opening the door right now might be a mistake, but he can’t help his hand turning the door handle, peeking through the small gap as the door swings open. 

Quinn can feel his mouth drop open as he watches your fingers slip inside of you so easily. Your legs falling further open against the mattress as you let out a long sigh, your other hand gripping the sheets. “Fuck.” Quinn curses under his breath as head shooting up at the interruption, your legs snapping closed your hand trapped in between them. 

“Quinn? When did you get home?” You question as your cheeks burn a bright red, pulling yourself into a sitting up position slowly sliding your hand out from between your legs - your shirt falling from where it was bunched against your waist to cover you a little more. 

Quinn opens his mouth to speak but clamps it shut against as he sees you reaching for the towel besides the bed, his body moving faster then his brain as he steps forwards, his hand clamping around your wrist as he pauses your motions, glancing down at the sheen of liquid on your fingers. Quinn smiles as you try to yank your hand from his grasp, your whole body freezing as he raises your soaked fingers to his mouth - sucking them clean, a loud hum resonating from his throat. 

“What the fuck?” You whisper as he releases your wrist, letting the hand fall limply besides you as he lunges forwards, his hand clasping either side of your head as he attaches his lips to yours - the taste of yourself still fresh in his mouth. Quinn pulls away first, his hand knotting in your hair as he pants over your, your hands desperately clinging to the sides of his shirt. 

“No, wait.” You whine as he moves to pull away, pushing the hair off your face as his eyes lock with yours. “Why are you stopping?” His thumbs stroke your cheeks gently as a small pout forms on your face, Quinn smiling as he leans down to press a soft kiss against your lips before pulling away from you completely. 

“I just can’t right now.”  Is all he gives you before he turns quickly and leaves the room - leaving you sitting on the mattress with burning skin and a throbbing pussy, the anger bubbling under the surface. You huff as you bed down, pulling your pyjama pants back on before marching into the living room behind your boyfriend. 

“What do you mean, you just can’t?” You snap, crossing your arms over your chest as you watch him flop onto the couch, his face pushed into the cushions as he lets out a sigh. “Is it me? Did I do something wrong?” You ask, the room suddenly feeling colder as a shiver racks your body, your arms pulling tighter against yourself.  

“No.” Quinn groans against the pillow. 

“Really? Cause it seems like I’m the problem - Quinn I’ve been throwing myself at you and you don’t even look at me anymore.” You don’t mean for your voice to tremble when you speak but you can’t help the growing lump in your throat. “I just want you to be honest with me, if this isn’t something you want anymore.” 

Quinn’s head shoots up from the pillow - his body scrambling off the lounge to make his way to you, your body stepping away from him as you hands wipe at your face. “I’m not going to be mad if you do want to brea—” 

“Don’t finish that fucking sentence.” Quinn hisses, his hands reaching out for yours, forcing you to uncross the arms against your chest. “What on earth would make you think that I want to break up with you?” He questions, bringing your hands to his lips, pressing soft kisses across your knuckles. 

“Are you kidding me?” You respond, a cold laugh leaving you before you add, “You’ve wanted nothing to do with me over the last two weeks - every time I try, you run away like you’ve been burned and not to mention you’ve been sleeping in the guest room. I never thought that I was so bad you couldn’t even share a bed with me.” Quinn flinches at the shaky breath you let out, the small hiccup as you try to hold back your tears. 

“No, it’s not like that.” 

“Then what is it, Quinn because I’m really fucking confused.” 

“Jack and Luke convinced me to—” Quinn pauses as he watches your head tilt in confusion - your mind racing a million miles an hour as he tries to figure out how to word this right, but falling short as he blurts out. “It’s because of no nut November.” 

A flicker of surprise crosses your face before a look of incredulous amusement takes over. You blink at him, as though waiting for the punchline.

“Wait, that's why you’ve been avoiding me? Because of… some dumb challenge?” You try to hold back a laugh, but a snort slips out anyway. Quinn’s cheeks flush, his gaze dropping as he sheepishly scratches the back of his neck.

 “It’s not dumb. It’s for charity—Jack and Luke both dared me, and if I finish the month, we’re each donating a bunch of money to the children's hospital.” His voice grows defensive, though he’s clearly embarrassed. “I just… I didn’t think it’d be this hard.”

You raise an eyebrow, unable to resist. “Literally or figuratively?”

“Both!” he bursts out, letting out a frustrated sigh as he flops back down onto the couch. “You have no idea how hard this has been… and every time I see you—” He cuts himself off, cheeks going even redder, which only makes you chuckle harder. 

“Oh, I think I have a pretty good idea,” you tease, crossing your arms. “So you’ve been turning me down, not because you’re mad at me, but because of a bet?” Quinn grimaces, looking up at you with guilt in his eyes. 

“Yes. I know it’s dumb, but I didn’t want you to feel bad. I thought I could just… tough it out without saying anything.”

You sigh, feeling a mix of relief and exasperation. “I don’t think I’ve ever dated someone so stupid” 

“Yeah,” he mumbles, rubbing his temples. “I know. I didn’t mean to make you feel unwanted. It’s just… Jack and Luke won’t let me hear the end of it if I quit now. They’d never let me live it down.”

You roll your eyes, moving closer to him on the couch. “Well, maybe I can make this month even harder on you,” you say, grinning as you trail a finger along his jawline.

His eyes widen, and he gulps. “You wouldn’t.”

“Oh, I would. You’ve already put me through two weeks of this. You think I’m not going to make you work for it?”

He groans, dropping his head into his hands. “This is going to be the longest month of my life.”

You laugh, leaning in to plant a soft kiss on his cheek. “Maybe next time, you’ll think twice before taking up ridiculous bets with your brothers.”

Quinn pulls you into a hug, holding you tight. “Yeah, maybe. But it’s worth it. For the kids.”

+

+

DAY THIRTY

“I can’t take this anymore” Quinn sighs as he watches you waltz around the room in your underwear, the sunflower yellow matching set the same he had picked out earlier in the year for your birthday. You shoot him a grin over his shoulder as you pull on the mid length dress, saving Quinn from drooling over your ass for any longer. 

“It’s the last day Quinn, think of the children.” You coo, adjusting each breast to sit more comfortably in the dress, Quinn letting out a long whine as his threads his fingers through his hair pulling on the roots. 

“Fuck the kids.” He grumbles, a surprised laugh escaping you as you make your way over to him - his hands instantly grabbing hold of your hips pulling you between his legs. His forehead dipping to leans against your stomach, your fingers gently playing with the ends of his curled hair. 

“Quinn, if you can make it to midnight, then I promise it’ll be worth your while.” You promise, your hands smoothing down the back of his head and dipping under the collar of his dress shirt, rubbing soft circles against his back. “And with the jackpot combined that’s almost fifty thousand for the children’s hospital palliative care unit. That’s so special, Quinn.” 

Quinn groans, his grip tightening on your hips, as he pulls you closer. “I know, I know… you’re right.” He lifts his head to look at you, his eyes smoldering with barely contained desire. “But you’re not making it any easier for me.”

You chuckle, leaning down to press a soft kiss to his forehead. “Just a few more hours. Then I’m all yours.”

Quinn sighs, releasing you reluctantly, his hands sliding down your waist before finally letting go. He leans back in his chair, watching as you smooth out the dress and adjust your hair in the mirror. The way he looks at you sends a shiver down your spine, and you can’t help but feel a surge of anticipation for what’s to come once this night is over.

"Fine," he relents, his voice low and gruff. "But I’m holding you to that promise."

You grin, blowing him a playful kiss before grabbing your purse and heading towards the door. “I wouldn’t have it any other way, Hughes.”

As you both step out, ready to put on smiles and charm for the last fundraiser of the year, you can feel Quinn’s hand settle on the small of your back, a silent reminder of everything waiting between you once the clock strikes midnight.

Quinn could feel his phone buzzing in his pocket for most of the evening, his brothers and their teammates admitting defeat and wishing Quinn congratulations - his hand tight in yours the whole evening as he watches the clock in the corner of the room, each tick of the hour hand building his anticipation. 

“Quinn you need to actually pay attention.” You hiss in his ear, his fingers squeezing yours as the clock ticks to eleven thirty pm. 

“I’d be able to pay attention if I could think of anything other then how good it’s gonna feel when I can finally put my dick inside you again.” Quinn leans his head down, his lips pressing to your ears as he whispers - your gaze instantly shooting around to see if anyone had heard what he said. “I hope you’re not attached to that matching set, baby.” He grins as he pulls away from you, the Quinn from the past month quickly replaced by a man you hadn’t seen in a while. 

“Hey, we’re going to head off, she’s not feeling too well.” Quinn whispers to the table as the speeches conclude - his teammates immediately wishing you well, as Quinn collects your purse and coat, dragging you from the ballroom hall in haste. Quinn makes quick work of the drive home - not even glancing in your direction as he fidgets in his seat, his hand clamped against the inside of your thigh, his other hand tapping against the steering wheel as he makes his way through the streets of Vancouver. 

“Five minutes, I can do this.” He mumbles to himself, as he races around the car, pulling the door open for you, offering his hand as you slide out of the car. The two of you taking the longest journey of Quinn’s life to the apartment, the tension rising to a boil as the front door clicks shut - Quinn’s pupils blown out as he glances at the clock. 

“One minute.” He whispers, your hands making quick work of your heels as you strip them off your feet, a bright grin on your face as you tug on the hem of your dress, pulling it up inch by inch as you watch Quinn, who watches the clock. You pull the soft fabric over your head just as the clock ticks to midnight, Quinn’s eyes shooting over to yours. 

“I did it.” He says in disbelief. 

“You did it.” You confirm, leaning against the front door as you fiddle with the band on your underwear. “Now fuck me.” Quinn doesn’t waste time, his hands pushing you hard against the door as his lips capture yours, the two of your breathless in seconds, as his lips leave yours to press soft kisses down your jaw. 

“I don’t know how long I’ll last.” He admits, a groan escaping him as you run your fingers against his scalp, his lips dipping to your collarbones before making their way back up. “God, you’re just so fucking gorgeous.” He says against your skin, your hands gripping his face to pull it away from your neck for a moment. 

“Let’s make this quick then, cap.” You says as you press a chaste kiss to his lips before slipping out from between his body and the door, sprawling yourself against the couch your legs opened wide in invitation. “Clothes off.” You murmur as he stumbles over to the couch - Quinn nodding his head vigorously as he strips himself of his shirt, pausing to watch as you tug on the front clasp of your bra, the two cups springing away from each other as your breasts tumble free. 

“I think I’ve been blessed by angels.” He says as his mouth falls open a little, his fingers fumbling on the button of his pants, finally letting out a sharp curse as he yanks at the pants, his button popping off and hitting the floor with a clattering sound. “I’ll fix them later.” He says, kicking the trousers off his legs as he dives towards you on the couch. 

You let out a soft moan as Quinn attaches his lips to your left nipple, his free hand grabbing hold of the right breast as kneads it slowly, before switching sides, your legs wrapping around his waist as you whisper - “God, please.” 

“My name is Quinn, and I expect you to use it.” He retorts, a wicked grin on his face as his finger tickle their way down to the waistband of your underwear, slowly slipping them down your legs and throwing them to the side - your pussy glistening as he sits back on his heels, glancing down at you. 

“What’re you doing?” You hiss. 

“Admiring the view.” He admits, his body jolting forwards as you use your legs to tug him back down towards you. 

“Well stop admiring and put your dick in me.” Quinns hands move faster now, his lips finding their way back to yours as he fumbles to strip off his underwear, his body slotting easily against yours as his hand guides himself to your entrance. 

“It’s as perfect as I remember.” Quinn says as he slowly pushes inside, a sigh of relief leaving you at the feeling of him after thirty long days. “God, your pussy is so perfect.” He groans, his hips slowly starting to rock back and forth, your arms thrown around his neck as you hold him to you as tightly as possible - his lips pressing gentle kisses against your cheeks as you let out a quiet whine. 

“It’s made for me.” He continues, his hands finding purchase against your waist gripping tightly as his motions speed up, his thrusts heavier as he pulls himself into a kneeling position, your arms loosening around his neck grabbing hold of the cushion beneath you. 

“Quinn, shit.” You hum, your teeth clamping down on your bottom lip as your throw your head back, his thumb rising to your mouth, your lips softly parting as he dips it into your mouth your tongue swirling around the digit before he pulls it back out - rubbing gently against your clit. 

“Fuck, I’m so close.” Quinn moans, his thrusts becoming more erratic, your hand letting go of the cushion to grip his jaw - pulling his face down to yours. 

“It’s okay.” You whisper against his lips, pressing a kiss to the underside of his jaw before adding, “Come for me, Quinn.” His movements halt, his hands leaving you to plant above your head as he lets out a low groan, your legs holding him against your as he whispers soft praise in your ear. 

“Fuck, I’m so sorry.” He apologises as his body falls against yours, your arms wrapping around him as you chuckle into his hair, pressing a kiss against his forehead.

“It’s okay.” You mumble, your fatigue already setting in as you try to yank the blanket off the back of the couch. “Let’s just stay here for a while.” Quinn humming in quick agreement as he settles against your chest, his fingers tangling with the ends of your hair as your hands rub against his bare skin. 

“We didn’t use protection.” He notes, his dick softening inside of you, the bare feeling something new for the both of you. 

“We can figure that out later.” You admit, surprised that neither of you had thought to grab a condom before leaving for the event earlier tonight.

“I’ll go to the pharmacy in the morning for you.” Quinn murmurs, his words softer as his body relaxes against yours. “I’ll make this up to you.” He adds. 

“Quinn, really it’s okay… It’s been a long month for you.” You chuckle, Quinn huffing against your chest in agreement. “Well we’ve got the whole of December to make up for it.” You add, pressing one more kiss to his head before settling into your boyfriends embrace, your legs wrapped around him until the early morning, when he drags himself away from you starting the bath and pulling you away from the couch in a half asleep daze. 

“Let’s get you cleaned up.” He whispers in your ear as he insists you go to the toilet before sliding into the enjoyably hot water, Quinn sliding into the bath behind you. 

“Thank you, for being patient with me.” He says against your skin, your body melting against his in the soapy water. 

“Just promise you won’t do it again.” 

“Deal.” 

[sassydefendorflower]

Holy Server B@tman! Fanfic Rec List 2.0

Hello and welcome back to a very special fanfic rec list! 

The members of the amazing Holy Server B@tman! Server are an extremely talented bunch - many great artists and writers together in one place to foster each other’s creativity and joy to participate in fandom.

That has to be celebrated! 

So, please welcome a list of stories our writers loved to create, their very own Greatest Hits!

(please click on your own discretion - you’ll find the appropriate warnings on ao3)

Fujiwhara Effect by byrambles / @byrambles

Fujiwhara Effect: When two tropical cyclones spinning in the same direction pass so close to each other than they begin spinning around a common center. Or: Dick is NOT a fan of Bruce’s new kid (seriously, WHO brings home a new kid weeks after the old one moves out and then doesn’t even have the courtesy to tell – ). When he gets trapped in Gotham by an East Coast hurricane, though, he has to figure out how to be in the same room as Jason without losing it.

byrambles's words: This was so much fun to write! I think it has a sweet mix of angst and fluff — plus a silly little surprise part-way through!

The Lines that Bond Us by canaf_lilah

Reclusive author Bruce Wayne's most recent book, The Bat Man, was a critical success and a mass market flop. As he struggles to make sense of a sequel, he shocks no one more than himself when he brings home recently orphaned Dick Grayson. Bruce could never have predicted the impact on his life - and his writing - the remarkably resilient young acrobat would have. Batman and Robin may only exist on the pages of Bruce's books, but that doesn't stop them from saving the people they touch.

Lilah's words: to me this is by far the best fic I've ever written. I'm determined to finish it one day, but don't be too put off by the incomplete status! It works well as a standalone.

red like blood (they won't wash clean) by silver_the_phoenix

Tim snaps. It's a lot bloodier than he thought it would be.

Silver's words: I started this one because Tim deserves to go a little feral, as a treat; and I finished it because I'm a simp for Good Brother Jason Todd.

Cared For by 1Zukoneedsafamily2 / @trashcollectshere

Jason smirked as he stood over The Replacement. He stroked the feathers of the splayed-out wings, before he gripped a group of feathers and yanked. Not hard enough to pull out feathers but he wanted him awake when the fun started.

Krys' words: also everyone loves a tower fic right???

Brother, Go Find Your Brother by sleepingcreep (JaySgrech) / @misplacedspleen

Brother, go find your brother: A method of finding something lost by attempting to lose something similar in the same way, in the hopes that it gets lost in the same place and both can be found. “You should match, right?” The grin cracked wider as the lanky captor rolled the knife between their fingers, strolling closer to where Tim was pinned to the wall. Jason didn’t comprehend what the creep meant, too focused on trying to pull his hands against the cuffs in the right way to pop his thumb out of place to get free. There are many years of scars between Jason and Tim before they match.

Jay's words: I'm reccing it because I'm proud of how the settings turned out and I think I wrote a unique take on Jason and Tim's relationship

dirt piling up, putting me to bed by rutaceae / @applejee

Jason never imagined that a simple trip to a bookshop could end with him trapped in the basement of a collapsed building with Tim, but you don't often get what you imagined when you live in Gotham.

Luka's words: i’m quite happy with how contained this little fic is (for me); i always wanted to stab someone, and have someone else panic so bad they don’t realise they’re fucked up themself. fun times!!

Do-Si-Do's Churros & Other Curious Things About Love by sElkieNight60 / @selkienight60

Being a beta in a house full of alpha’s is rough. Especially if you’re trying to be heard.

Selkie's words: I like it because I really enjoy reading Platonic Omegaverse stories, and the Batfamily are so unrepresented here, (I say, in the meaning that I simply crave more of them, there are truthfully quite a few out there, but I just enjoy them so much).

Maui Melon Mint by motleyfam / @motleyfam

In the case of Bats vs. Stomach Bug, there can only be one victor.

Motley's words: I had a ton of fun writing from Damian’s POV for a change and letting Alfred wear his sassy pants

Writer's Cellblock by pinstripedJackalope / @the-ghost-of-jason-todd

Mystery writer and father to five, Bruce Wayne has no great fortunes to fall back on. No reserve of social charisma, no family jewels. He no longer has a butler, though Alfred does his best to visit regularly. He is, in short, not the kind of man who can buy freedom. Heck, he can barely make ends meet some months. So you can understand the… concern… he feels when, late one night, two FBI agents come knocking at his door.

K's words: ngl it was hard to pick a fic, and i would have picked one with more than one chapter but i always did think this one was kind of fun

Golden Silence, Golden Yolks by BabblingBookends / @babblingbookends

Words between Dick and Bruce have never been easy. Dick talks, Bruce doesn’t listen. Bruce talks, Dick is expected to listen. Better if neither of them speak at all.

Babbles' words: If you watch a TV show for long enough, there will inevitably be some character moments in a diner, and I just think that's fun, hence this fic!

keep your head up (it's a cruel world) by lookforanewangle / @lookforanewangle

“If the past is anything to go on, sir,” he says kindly, “this boy will be in your care for a good many lifetimes, and you will do all you can to keep him safe, just like you have with the others.” Or, the Batfam/The Old Guard reverse verse au with Dick's introduction to the world of immortals

Lyss' words: I put a lot of work into this one and while I know reverse verse isn't everyone's cup of tea, I think it works best in this universe in this order, with many surprises yet to come, and room for this universe to grow!

A Promise to Stay by xerzi / @xerziartblog

No one needed Tim Drake, but Tim Drake still needed to be needed. And well, who better to choose than the one person who could never stop needing him? So inherently broken that his job would never be finished. Yet so unfortunately resilient that he would never be left the sole survivor. And so desperate to serve that he would never be betrayed again. In other words, no one else needed Tim Drake, but certainly, he knew there was someone who could make use of his particular skill set. - Tim Drake, 12-year-old independent adult, professional birdwatcher, is offered everything he’s ever wanted…for the low, low price of his verbal agreement. All he has to do is say yes.

Xerzi's words: I just want to put Tim Drake in a jar and try to figure out what's wrong with him…so I put TWO Tim Drakes in the same jar so they can work together to figure out what's wrong with them (and how to fix it)

The End of Man by AuroraKant / @sassydefendorflower

Dick Grayson wasn’t meant to be caged in, but then again… Dick Grayson wasn’t a murderer, and look at him now. (was this what insanity felt like?) Dick Grayson gets captured, forced to shift, and put into a cage - surely, this is the worst that can happen?

Aurora's words: Look... I always wanted to write a deranged Shifter AU in which Dick Grayson goes absolutely mental. What can I say? I love it when my boy is broken and covered in blood <3

Catching Stars and Comets by Faeriekit

From this tumblr prompt: "Reverse Robins AU but instead of making Damian oldest and going down the line so on and so forth, it’s a bunch of assembled weird vigilante-crime men and their accidentally adopted autistic eight year old rich boy, Bruce, who calls himself “batkid” for reasons beyond their mutual understanding of expected kid behavior."

Faeriekit's words: it's been a fun AU to work on, I hope people enjoy it, also it's got kids. It's basically an ageswap!AU where all the batkids are "villains" without Bruce's influence. And it was either this fic or the bees.

cardboard box by A_Canceled_Stamp / @a-canceled-stamp

Robin!Tim is exposed to Ivy's cuddle pollen. For the first time, he reaches out to Bruce for help. How he wishes he hadn't.

Stamp's words: this is my first hurt/no comfort fic and I am very happy with how it turned out! The comments I've gotten on it always make me cackle lmao

a flower called you has bloomed by dottie_dc / @dottie-wan-kenobi

The real problem is that, well. Last time Tim went undercover, he kind of… came home and embarrassed himself. It’s not that he’s shy about being seen in disguise, okay? They can all tease him all they want but it doesn’t bother him. He has way more blackmail on his siblings than they do him, so whatever. It’s just… Caroline Hill is a different story.

Dottie's words: I saw the inspo art and it gave me immediate motivation to write something, which was really fun. I loved writing it and seeing people in the comments be able to relate. queer headcanons my beloved <3

Of The Covenant by Kgraces / @kgraces

Dick Grayson is many things, and foremost among those, he's a detective. He can't stop himself from noticing things about Tim Drake — things that make him question not only his home life but his relationship with Bruce Wayne, too. (Things spiral from there.)

Gracie's words: I’m gonna toss my current longfic your way so hopefully it motivates me to work on it more lmao. It’s a Dick & Tim fic where Dick basically takes a look at all the adults in Tim’s life and goes “is anyone going to take care of this feral, unsupervised child? No? Guess he’s my responsibility now.”

Now and Then by librarylexicon / @librarylexicon

Dick’s spent the past few months recovering from an ordeal he’d rather not think about, so when Bruce asks him to spend quality time with Tim outside of their masks, he instantly agrees. Amid conversations, itineraries, nightmares, photos, revelations and a whole lot of chocolate, he and Tim navigate the Great Ocean Road—and learn more about themselves and each other along the way.

lily's words: Dick and Tim are my favourite Batboys, so I've been wanting to write a fic about them for a long time, because of their long history and close brotherly relationship in the comics. This story is a love letter to their bond, and I'm very pleased with the way all the emotional whump turned out!

How to tape a card castle by Fleur_de_Violette / @fleur-de-violette

Dick saves the new Robin one day. This is it. This is all. It’s not that he doesn’t want to have a relationship with Jason, it’s just that it’s too complicated. He doesn’t know how to deal with being an adult on top of being Nightwing. He can’t deal with Jason, with what Jason represents, on top of it. Except, when a small injury doesn’t heal up the way it’s supposed to, he ends up being the one who needs saving and he’s finally forced to face the new Robin.

Violette's words: This is my longest published fic so far ! I really enjoyed writing it, both the Robin Jason and Dick part and the little case stories in between and I'm happy about how it turned out!

See You At Your Worst by wildsofmarch / @wildsofmarch

Dick has only been a mob enforcer for six months, but delivering a shipment of guns to an up-and-coming crime lord in Gotham should have been easy. All he needs to do is win the man's trust and secure him as a repeat customer. Unfortunately, the Red Hood is not impressed with him.

Wilds' words: I like this one because I go ham with the identity porn!

The Nature of Things by FidotheFinch / @fidothefinch

After a mission gone wrong and a spat with Drake, Robin is benched. Worse than that: Damian is grounded. As serendipity would have it, it gives Damian the opportunity to facilitate the rehabilitation of the manor's new ward, a dog Batman rescued from a fighting ring.

Fido's words: I got to memorialize pieces of my childhood pups in this story, and it was my first fic in the fandom

in vitro by genericlesbian72 / @femmescooter

Shadow-girl did not know much. She didn't need to. But she knew her first kill would be for the baby.

Hedgehog's words: This fic was a challenge to myself on how Cassandra would view her first kill, without words to describe it, while also a take on ‘joining the Batfamily early’ for her that I haven’t seen much before.

this one takes the cake by carol_in_au / @carol-in-au

Jason took a sip from his glass, slowly, synching it with Bruce's words. Bruce cleared his throat, and continued with an authoriative tone that was so not him. "I have something to announce." Bruce Wayne has an announcement to make

Chrys' words: It's fast-paced, has a good comedic timing, a bit of fluff in some moments. When I reread it, I found it pleasant to read and I was quite happy I created it

presumptions by Valkirin / @valkirinii

Batman is away on a long mission with the Justice League when Red Hood attacks Robin in Titans Tower. Red Hood thinks that hurting Robin will get Batman's attention. He doesn't expect Nightwing. Nightwing doesn't know what to expect from Red Hood, Gotham's newest rogue.

Trixie's words: It's one of my favorites that doesn't seem to get as much attention. It's also really fun to let Dick Grayson be angry and intimidating.

Operation Friendship Helmet by goldenraeofsun / @raeofsoleil

When Red Hood meets Dick, he seems almost friendly, compared to the violent hostility he showed Batman and Robin. Maybe, if Dick plays his cards right, he can turn Red Hood from a crime boss to a vigilante. But the closer he gets to Hood, the question nags louder and louder: why does Red Hood seem so familiar?

Rae's words: This is the first time I really dove into my favorite trope, secret identities, complete with a big reveal at the end.

Roadtrip to Nowhere by Ghxst_Bird / @ghost-bxrd

“For the last time, I’m not modifying a car we’ll be ditching a few towns over.” “Why, you got better things to do?” “Yeah, getting food on the table, you leech.” Jason goes on an impromptu road trip with an ex-Talon and ends up running into a family member… who still thinks he’s dead. Oops.

Ghost's words: Calvin Rose deserves more love in this fandom!

Q is for Quintessential by writergeek / @writergeek

"Rodney...you're talking about altering the timeline here." Well...yeah. Wasn't that the point? "...I want you to have a backup plan." Of course he had a backup plan. At this point he could probably list them all by alphabetical order. Or...the story of the backup plan(s) Rodney never wanted to use to save 12 days 25 years 48000 years mankind.

WG's words: not a DC fic, it actually comes from my old fandom, SGA. i just... i enjoy the time loop shenanigans and the fixit nature of it (which needs fixing only bc i broke it shush), both tropes i adore reading (and writing, apparently)

Leaving The Light by TheCallOfTheSea

Jason is alive, but he has fallen. Can the Batfamily save him?

M&M's words: I enjoyed exploring Jason as a villain, but it wasn’t easy writing relentless angst! I still brought out his humanity in a way.

closet space by adelfie / @adelfie

“Hi,” she says in a breathless rush, then takes a moment to swallow and wet her lips. “I, uh, need your help?” “Are you dying?” “N-not exactly.” “Then you don’t need me,” comes Jason’s lazy, uninterested reply. The call ends with a click. . Steph doesn't know what's more embarrassing: that she's been locked in a closet during a party, or the fact that her "friends" aren't really her friends. And to top it all off, Jason's the only one who can come rescue her.

adelfie's words: I love that Steph isn't fighting a big bad villain -- there's something so soft and strong in realizing that other people's judgments aren't what truly matter.

penance by cuephrase / @cuephrase

After Tim dies, his soul remains stuck as a ghost at the Manor. Forced to watch Dick and Bruce grieve him and unable to do anything, the only thing making the afterlife bearable is Jason. Until the day his ghost departs.  Tim assumes that Jason has passed on. But then the Red Hood breaks into the Cave. And for the first time, someone can see Tim.

Cue's words: i just had an inordinately fun time writing it!! there was a lot of catharsis in the process, and i’m very proud of the ending because i feel like i was able to preserve the fic’s bittersweetness- like the happy ending didn’t dilute the sorrow and instead they were able to complement each other

two vigilantes carry a cake across gotham by JBS_Forever / @jbsforever

In a scheming attempt to make them bond, Bruce forces Jason and Tim on what should be a simple quest: retrieve Alfred’s birthday cake from across town and make it back before the party. But this is Gotham. And nothing is ever simple in Gotham.

JBS' words: it's a story that centers around jason learning just how much crime alley appreciates him. it's also a sibling bonding fic between jason and tim

Ghosts From The Past by red_jaebyrd / @red-jaebyrd

Tim stared at an old poster of the ‘The Flying Graysons’ and his stomach dropped. He immediately fixated on the young boy’s smiling face with his eyes bright and full of life; frozen in time in eternal happiness. It was such a sharp contrast to the last memory Tim had of the youngest Grayson laying broken and still on the circus floor. Tim sighed. He wasn’t just at any old circus. He was back at Haly’s Circus where his nightmares had started and never really stopped. Or Bruce is Ghost Hunter and takes Jason and Tim with him to investigate strange happenings at Haly's Circus.

Jae's words: I wanted to try and write my own version of a no capes au adding in my own lore about the characters and their new world.

sons of sky by ScarlettSwordMoon, Kiwilart / @kiwilart

Dick is thirteen, leader of the Teen Titans, and already starting to chaff under Bruce’s thumb. When Bruce gets de-aged to fourteen, Dick thinks this experience will finally bring their partnership back to working order. It doesn’t. And then it does.

Scarlett's words: This fic has challenged me in so many fun directions. It is terrifying and exhilarating to write young!Bruce and to really try my hand at a big novel length plot line. Of all my WIPs, this is the most fun to work on because I'm working with an artist, Kiwili, who supports me during the loneliest parts of the drafting process, and also draws amazing art for the fic. I'm very proud of what we've done so far and very excited to be close to finishing.

we'll meet again some sunny day by Ms_Trickster / @ms-trickster

When Talia rests a hand atop her bed, the sound of paper crunching beneath it fills her ears.

Missy's words: Talia is a character that deserves a lot more depth and affection and it was a blast to write a story in which she is loved.

[sashaisready]

Since You've Been Gone: Chapter 1

Bucky Barnes x Reader

After a regrettable first meeting in the cemetery, you discover that you have something in common with a certain member of the Avengers. Unfortunately, you can't choose your neighbours, even in death.

(Setting is approx. post TFATWS)

Hi, I'm back! I have no idea where this came from, or where it's going! So apologies as updates may not be consistent while I figure it out. Warnings for death of parents, grief, mentions of cemetery/graves - please tread carefully if these are triggers for you.

🍂

It was a chilly Autumn day, but not unbearable. Your coat could more than handle the frigid breeze. You squinted at the headstone as you crouched on your knees, angling your head to make sure you hadn’t left any streaks or marks from the polish. Satisfied with your performance, you trimmed a few of the roses that were leaning against it before standing and taking a step back to admire your handiwork.

Immaculate as always, so neat you could almost be fooled into thinking you weren’t even outside. You could hear your parents’ voices in your head now, joking about being able to keep their graves far cleaner that you ever managed your bedroom to be, their frequent nags falling on deaf adolescent ears.

You smiled sadly as you looked at the intricately engraved text below their names on the shared stone:

Beloved parents taken too soon,

Waiting in heaven to be reunited with their only daughter

You’d never really like that phrasing; it was a little too whimsical for your tastes – especially all these years later. But a recently orphaned teenager wasn’t exactly an expert in choosing the best headstone wording. You’d been more than happy to let your aunt and the funeral home lead the way, too paralysed by grief to make even the smallest decisions in the hellscape that was death admin.

Still, you’d never want to upset your aunt by getting it changed, there’s a lot of strange emotion tied up in grief even when time has passed, and that mourning teen has become an adult. And it wasn’t like new headstones were cheap anyway…

As you packed up your cleaning kit your attention was drawn to the two graves next to your parents’ - George and Winnifred Barnes. They had both passed several decades earlier, long before your parents were buried next to them. They had died only a few months apart according to the text…maybe they’d couldn’t survive without each other.

It was easy to infer that they no longer had anyone left earthside. The graves had been long untouched, unkempt, and overgrown, the inscriptions getting harder to read – and you’d never seen any evidence of a visitor in all your time coming here. Except of course when the cemetery staff did one of their occasional mass clean-ups of the neglected graves.

About a year ago, you’d started tending to them alongside your parents. You weren’t sure why, it just seemed like the right thing to do. They were neighbours after all. And you’d want someone to do the same for your mum and dad if you weren’t around.

You’d cleaned their stones, wiped away the grime and given them a decent polish. You’d trimmed back the weeds and laid fresh flowers. The first time took a while, but after you’d got them to a reasonable standard it was all pretty easy to maintain.

You’d often wondered who they were. What they were like. The dates suggested they’d died of old age, a luxury your parents didn’t have. Were they kind? Funny? What hobbies did they have? They were around during the war, that must’ve been tough. You knew from the inscriptions that they had children who would’ve been over hundred by now. Maybe no grandchildren which is why nobody came by to see them anymore. It made you feel sad, how we could all be just a few generations away from being forgotten entirely. At least you could try to remember them.

You gave their graves a quick once over, took away the dead flowers and added some fresh roses in their place.

“Well, I’m done,” you said aloud, “see you soon, mum and dad. And you too, George and Winnifred. Sleep well”.

You sighed, walking back to your car and back to your life. You knew all too well that the dead may be still, but the world continues around them.

🍂

A week later you were back at the cemetery with your cleaning kit slung over your back, your arms full of fresh flowers.

“Afternoon, mum and dad,” you said as you placed your kit and flowers down and pulled out the foam pad that you used to kneel on, “and you, George and Winnifred”.

“Work has been kicking my ass this week,” you sighed as you got to work on your parents’ stone. “There’s only so much I can take of Brock’s moaning about the numbers…it’s getting harder not to smash my keyboard over his head – yeah I know, violence isn’t the answer, blah-blah-blah…”

You worked diligently, chatting away as you went through your maintenance tasks. It was nice, talking to them like this. You could say anything, really. No judgements, no admonishment, just silent acceptance of everything you told them. It was a bit like therapy for you. You often imagined your parents were sitting behind you as you spoke, just out of sight.

You liked to use old newspaper to buff up the marble. As you gathered your things together, you glanced at some of the headlines from the copy you’d brought with you. Lots of dreary grimness unfortunately. There was also a longread feature on the Avengers and where they were now, their photographs lined up across the top of the page. It was sad that a few of them were dead now, or at least no longer here. You felt a pang of sadness for their loved ones – you knew what that was like.

You didn’t know all the details of The Avengers and their associates, but like everyone else you knew the basics. It was a strange time, just a decade or so ago nobody had ever thought superheroes really existed…but then all of these ‘enhanced’ people started crawling out of the woodwork, revealing weapons and technology that previously had only existed in sci-fi movies. It was hard to believe, really.

You scanned the newspaper page, looking at the pictures for a few moments. You took your time studying their faces before sighing and placing it back down.

“All done…now let’s help out George and Winnie over here, looks like you guys need some new flowers…and all that heavy rain we’ve been having has really done a number on your stones…let me just-”

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” the gruff voice behind you demanded, causing you such a shock that you nearly joined your parents.

You spun your body away from the graves, horrified to see a man looming over you as you stared at him open-mouthed in surprise. You hadn’t heard him approach, not quite understanding how you hadn’t noticed him coming at all…

“I said what the hell do you think you’re doing?” he repeated to you, his blue eyes alight with anger.

He was big. Bigger than you. Even under his coat you could see his broad shoulders. A mop of dark hair framed his face, most likely quite an attractive face when it wasn’t pulled into a furious sneer like it was now. He wore black gloves as he pointed at you accusingly. The fact that you were kneeling on the ground while he stood towering at his full height had not gone unnoticed by you.

There was something strangely familiar about him, but you couldn’t place it. Did he shop at the same market as you? You couldn’t quite…

“I’m…I’m just-” you spluttered as you fumbled for the words, still caught in your surprise and the fact that this normally serene time had been interrupted by a stranger yelling at you…

“Get away from there!” he snarled.

You quickly realised he was talking about the Barnes’ graves. You bounced backwards, landing painfully on your ass in your desperation to do what he said. He had a chilling air of authority that you didn’t want to screw with. You weren’t trying to piss off an angry man while you were out here all alone…

“I was just tidying them up,” you managed weakly as you sat up and clutched at the flowers.

“Nobody asked you to,” he scoffed in response as he leaned over and ran a gloved finger over Winnifred’s inscription, “you shouldn’t be clambering all over graves of people you don’t know”.

You frowned as the initial shock of the encounter wore off, now annoyed now at his abrupt rudeness towards you when you only had good intentions.

“Oh, and you know them, do you?” you snapped back sharply as your felt your emotions surge and your eyes water, your cheeks hot with mortification, “well, nobody has been to visit those graves in years so-”

“Yeah, actually I do know them - I’m their son,” he spat furiously.

Your head bounced back in surprise and confusion. You curled your lip and frowned at his strange claim, he appeared to be his mid-to-late 30s at most – many years away from the very elderly man he’d need to be for that to be true.

What was his goal here, exactly?

Was this guy just looking to start an argument and decided you’d be his target? Spouting off nonsense about random graves just to mess with you?

And where did you know him from?

Despite your survival instincts, you couldn’t help but fight back. You didn’t appreciate being messed with at the best of times, let alone when you were only here to visit your deceased loved ones. Who came to a graveyard to fuck with people? And yell at them?!

“Huh? Son?” you scoffed with derision and jabbed a finger towards the inscriptions about their children, “well, that can’t be true as that would mean their kids would have to be over a hundred…and how many one-hundred-year-olds look like you…?”

“I’m 107 years old, actually,” he said venomously. He sounded utterly sincere despite the ludicrousness of his claim. His face was sullen, his eyes piercing.

You ignored the shudder that threatened to roll through you in response. It was a strangely familiar expression on his face.

Where had you seen that look?

“Oh, yeah! You’re 107…Sure!” you laughed sarcastically. “You just have the greatest plastic surgeon of all time, in fact there’s a bunch of centenarians wandering around looking thirt-”

You trailed off as a wave of recognition suddenly hit you and the penny dropped. Oh. Oh.

He wasn’t from the market…

It was him.

Your eyes panned down to the crumpled newspaper lying next to you. The same man’s face scrutinised you from the page, an exact mirror image of the brooding 3D version in front of you. A little older now, but still unmistakably the same man.

Oh!

Now you remembered that same picture on the news. Read about the terrible things he’d done before when he was under hypnosis. For the Nazis? The Soviets? Both? Flashes of recollection hit you at once, disjointed and scattered.

It wasn’t really him doing all of it, it was a mind control thing, they’d said. He was like the Captain…the first one from the 40s. Kept young…somehow. He had a robot arm. Then there was the big government pardon after he’d helped to save the world. The deep dive the New York Times had done on his assassin past. What had they said he was called? Iceman? Winter? Winter hitman?

The Winter Soldier.

Barton? Baines? No, Barnes.

Barnes.

As in…son of Winnifred and George?

Ah.

He must’ve seen your train of thought written all over your face as he nodded solemnly at you.

“Yeah. It’s me. And I only found their resting place a few weeks ago,” he said with disdain.

You got to your feet, taking a few cautious steps backwards. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know. You didn’t need to be a jerk - I’ve just been coming here for years, and I’d never seen…”

You trailed off, he didn’t care. His focus was on the graves, one gloved hand gripping the top of his father’s stone as he peered down at the grass below.

You turned to leave, giving him his privacy, “I’m sorry for your loss,” you mumbled quietly as you picked up your kit.

You started to head back to your car, then turned to face him again after a couple of steps. You warily moved back towards him and leaned over, placing a single flower between the feet of his parents’ graves. He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t pick it up and throw it back in your face, either.

As you walked away, you thought you felt the weight of his gaze on your back.

🍂

Another week passed and you were back at the cemetery once more, working the usual routine and doing your best to forget what had happened the last time you were here. Upsetting a war veteran slash Avengers superhero by accusing him of not being his parents’ child was impressively incompetent, even by your standards. But in your defence, he did just start yelling at you out of nowhere. And you were only trying to help. And he was a literal defiance of nature, time, and aging…

But then again, people weren’t always their best selves in a cemetery. It wasn’t exactly Happy Hour over here. And you’d probably freak out too if you caught a stranger tinkering around with the resting place of your parents. The parents who died of old age while you were cryogenically frozen and a prisoner in your own body…

You’d done a little more reading up on him, James Buchanan Barnes. ‘Bucky’. The man behind the scary winter soldier mask. The older images of him in his combat gear were chilling, as were the alleged stats of his kills, but mainly you just felt immense empathy for a man out of time. A man who had lost his youth, a limb, his autonomy, and everybody he once knew from his old life.

You tried to put it out of your mind, catching your parents up on what they’d missed and pretty-ing things up a little around their plot. You didn’t touch the Barnes’ this time, just gave them a little wave and concentrated on your own flesh and blood.

You were a million miles away, lost in the quiet fog that often seemed to overtake you when you were working in the cemetery. It was peaceful, really. This was the one place you could switch your brain off and quiet the chatter of your head, just concentrate on the tasks you knew so well by now that your hands did them on muscle memory alone.

You were just adjusting the newest flowers when a voice interrupted you.

“Hey,” it said.

It startled you as you were still in your own world and hadn’t heard anyone else approach. You whirled around slightly panicked as a pair of eyes the colour of sapphires met yours.

It was him again.

“Oh, hello,” you replied quietly.

He stared over at you, wrapped up in his coat as he was last time. His stare was still intense despite appearing much calmer than when you first met him. He wore black pants and boots, his hands tucked away into his pockets, a dark backpack slung over his shoulder. His face was more relaxed than it was during your first encounter. His blue eyes were just as arresting, but the absence of anger made them sparkle rather than burn. He had a soft dusting of stubble across his taut jawline, his dark hair was pulled back behind his head as he absent-mindedly ran a hand over it. He was…

…hot?

Fuck.

He nodded at you in acknowledgement and moved to George and Winnifred’s plot, kneeling in front of their stones. He pulled a candle out from his backpack and lit it with a lighter, placing it between where his parents lay.

You turned away sharply, not wanting to look like you were intruding during what was clearly a private moment of mourning. You focused on your own parents’ graves, clipping back the flowers as quietly as possible.

The two of you continued doing your own thing, the awkwardness thick in the air. You remembered how furious he’d been with you last time. You considered saying something, trying to explain that you were only trying to maintain the graves, but you didn’t want to provide any more ammunition for potential anger. Instead, you continued your routine in silence, keeping your eyes down.

After you finished you packed up your stuff and cleared your throat, ‘uh, bye,” you said quietly to him as you hurried down the path and back towards your car. He didn’t respond, but looked up at you as you passed, studying you intently.

[multifandomslxt]

Tramp - Stamp

MDNI

MINORS GO AWAY

Pairing: Tattoo artist!Yuta x chubby!reader

Synopsis: After years of silently admiring him from afar, your friends have finally convinced you to break the ice with the guy who's been the subject of your secret crush: Yuta Nakamoto, the renowned tattoo artist. His mere presence sends a wave of excitement through you...all of you. luckily you happen to have a particular design in mind—a tramp stamp—that you've been itching to get inked onto your skin.

WARNING: Smut, unprotected p in v ( use protection kids), choking, spitting, hair pulling, mirrors (hehe), crying, begging, needles, smoking, Yuta is mean but sweet (lol), READER IS CHUBBY!! stretch marks, love handles, back rolls, stomach rolls etc. (if you don't like it, don't read it), Reader calls Yuta "Daddy", Yuta calls reader "bunny".

A/N: I have nothing against lower back tattoos or tramp stamps. I plan to get one myself actually. however, the term tramp stamp will have a different meaning in this fic.

I apologize in advance for any typos. Enjoy!

"Finally!" Minhee, your best friend of five years mutters, exasperation dripping from her voice.

Your bottom lip juts out in distaste. "What do you mean finally? I mentioned this to you just a couple months ago."

"Yeah, Y/N, but come on, you usually back out of these things, y'know?" Minhee explains, a playful smirk on her lips.

You sigh, not bothering to argue because you know she's right. There was a good reason, though. You grew up sheltered, and because of that, you just shied away from things that would draw attention to you.

For example, a tramp stamp.

Minhee squeals and shimmies her shoulders in excitement. "So… who's gonna do it?"

Huh… You hadn’t really gotten that far in your thoughts. You just figured you would go to a random tattoo parlor with good enough reviews.

You shrug. "I'll just choose somewhere with great reviews."

Minhee looks at you quizzically, tilting her head. "Good reviews? Why? Yuta's sho—"

You hold your hand up, stopping her mid-sentence. You roll your eyes. "Don't even think about it."

Minhee mimics you, rolling her eyes as well. "Y/N, you've wanted to fuck the guy since high school."

You squeeze your eyes shut, embarrassing memories resurfacing. "Minhee, please," you beg.

Besides, even if you did allow Yuta to tattoo you, there was no way in hell he would do anything more. You weren’t his type. He didn’t say that to you, but after years of stalking his social media pages like a creep, it was obvious you were definitely not his cup of tea. And it bothered you more than it should have.

"But Y/N, how will you get out of your shell without trying something new?" Minhee pleads. "Just trust me, the worst thing he can do is just give you the tattoo and never talk to you again." She shrugs.

You bite your lip in contemplation. That is true.

Fuck it.

"Fine, I'll do it."

Another squeal. "Yes! I'll book your appointment."

After some taps on her phone, she says, "Friday, 12:30."

You exhale, already hearing your heart pounding in your ears.

~~~~~

It was Friday, 12:15 PM.

You stood outside Yuta's tattoo parlor, teetering on the edge of decision. The air was thick with the scent of rain, and the cloudy sky reflected your inner turmoil.

Minhee had called you earlier, her voice a mix of encouragement and threat. "Just spread your wings a little. See where it takes you," she had urged over the phone. "If you back out, I'll never talk to you again."

Hopefully not an embarrassing fall from grace, you thought.

Sighing, you wiped your sweaty palms on your jeans and pushed the door open. The chime above the door announced your arrival with a soft tinkle, and you stepped inside, your heart pounding in your ears.

Your eyes darted to every corner of the shop within your sight. Holy shit.

It was dark. So fucking dark.

The parlor was an extension of Yuta himself. Black leather furniture, dark wood shelves, and posters of intricate, shadowy designs adorned the walls. Even the decorative plants were a deep, almost black, green. The only color contrasts were the neon signs casting an eerie glow and the cherry red telephone on the receptionist's desk.

And, of course, you.

A horrible choice to wear a baby pink crop top. You had hoped not to stand out, for crying out loud.

"Spread your wings," you muttered to yourself, taking another deep breath.

You made your way to the receptionist, pretending not to notice her staring at you since you stood outside. Her gaze was intense, but her smile was warm and welcoming.

"Hello, how may I help you today, sweetheart?" the receptionist asked.

"Hi, umm, I have an appointment? I'm Y/N for 12:30."

The receptionist nodded immediately, typing away and glancing at her computer screen. "Ah… 12:30 with Yuta." She looked up, waiting for your confirmation.

You nodded.

She smiled again. "Go through that door and wait; he'll be right with you."

The door she pointed to was, of course, dark wood, almost black, adorned with posters of various butterfly tattoos. A gold name plate read, "N. YUTA."

You exhaled once more, your heart hammering in your chest, and made your way toward the door, each step echoing in the dimly lit room.

The door opened with a soft creak, and my gosh, the light almost blinded you. Such a contrast from the waiting area.

The walls were a dark red with random splashes of black paint, all four sides adorned with even more sketches. Butterflies, swords, cartoons, and so much more.

a stool, and a bed -where you assumed customers lay down or sat on when getting tattooed- stood in the middle of the room. A table right beside the stool stood with different inks and the tools Yuta would need to tattoo someone. And, of course, there was a huge light standing over the bench and stool.

You awkwardly took a seat at the edge of the bed. The second you sat down, the door opened again, revealing Yuta.

His head was down, focused on his phone screen. You took this opportunity to look at him. Like, really look at him.

His black hair was grown out just above his shoulders, framing his face with an almost rough ethereal beauty. He was clad in all black—black pants and a black crop top that revealed just the tiniest bit of his butterfly tattoo and a fucking belly button piercing.

fuck me.

Finally, he looked up, and you quickly looked away.

his eyes were darker than you remembered.

"Y/N, right?" His voice was smooth and rich, with a hint of amusement.

You turned your attention back to him and nodded. "Y-yeah, I'm Y/N."

He nodded, a confident smile playing on his lips. "I'm Yuta. I'll be tattooing you today," he said, taking a seat on the stool in front of you. he smelled like cigarettes and faintlu of cologne.

it made you dizzy.

"Yeah, I know that. So, umm, I have my design—if that's okay?" you stumbled, trying to keep your composure.

The way he was staring so deeply at you like he could see through you.

It almost made you want to hide.

like a predator stalking its prey.

He stared at you, a mischievous glint in his eyes, before saying something that made your heart nearly stop. "You're still so shy after all these years, bunny?"

Bunny?

Did he just call you... No.

Your mind raced, trying to make sense of his words. Had he recognized you? Your cheeks flushed as old, buried memories began to resurface. You had known Yuta back in high school, but you never thought he’d remember you. Let alone a nickname you thought he had long forgotten.

You swallowed hard, your pulse quickening. "Y-you remember me?"

Yuta chuckled softly, a dark, almost predatory look in his eyes. "Of course I do. Some things you just don't forget."

butterflies erupted in your belly as you felt your finger tips tingle

You wanted to be under him so badly that your body ached.

The room seemed to close in around you, the walls pulsing with your heartbeat. You could feel the weight of his gaze on you, peeling away the layers you had built around yourself over the years.

"Well then," he said, leaning forward, his eyes never leaving yours. "Let's see that design."

Your hands trembled slightly as you reached into your back pocket and pulled out the paper with your design on it. You handed it to him, your fingers brushing against his. His touch was warm, sending a jolt of electricity through you. For a brief moment Yuta's body stiffened.

Holy fuck.

Did he want you too?

He examined the design, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. " You drew this?"

You nodded, not trusting your voice to speak.

he looks up at you quizzically causing your breathing to hasten

"do i still have to remind you to use your words bunny?" he asks his tone joking but his posture changed. from slouching to upright and his jaw was clenched. his eyes were a little darker and a little more demanding.

You realized that he wanted to hear you and he wanted it now.

your breath hitches before squeaking out a quiet "no"

he smiles, relaxes his posture and nods approvingly "Good girl"

This was unfair.

you wanted to affect him as much as he affected you.

Yuta looked up at you, his dark eyes boring into yours. "it's nice. it suits you. where do you want it?"

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart. "on my back please" you whispered.

Yuta raises a dark eyebrow in question "This seems a little small for the middle of your back bunny."

"no no, you don't understand" you you chuckle nervously

he looks at you expectantly, crossing his arms at his chest and tilting his head "Well make me understand sweetheart"

"I'll just show you" You get up from the bed and turn around

lifting our shirt revealing your lower back just above your ass.

you reach behind you and attempt to point to that spot "right here. I want it right here please."

A beat of silence passes, and another and another before you decide to turn around slightly.

his eyes lazily looked at you from head to toe.

He swallowed thickly, his gaze meeting yours with a mixture of surprise and curiosity before he replied in a strained voice,

"A tramp stamp?"

You smiled, feeling a rush of boldness, and with a flicker of hesitation, dropped your shirt, fully facing him now.

"Yes," you confirmed, your voice steady despite the flutter of nerves within you. God, he made you so jittery.

He clenched and unclenched his jaw, his eyes still fixed on you, observing every move as if he were deciphering a complex puzzle.

"Who's it for?" he questioned, his tone tinged with the same strain as before.

Confusion flickered across your features as you met his gaze. "Me?" you responded, the uncertainty evident in your voice.

He chuckled, though the humor didn't reach his eyes. "Fucking hell, you're trying to kill me."

" A tramp stamp just for your own amusement, bunny? And you want me to do it?" His words carried a mix of disbelief and a hint of something deeper, perhaps longing.

With a resigned sigh, he walked over to his stool and took a seat, motioning for you to shut the door.

It was common knowledge that when Yuta worked, he kept the door cracked, but shutting it completely? That was unheard of.

You decided to comply, despite the uncertainty gnawing at you. Closing the door softly behind you, you approached him with slow, steady steps, stopping in between his parted legs.

"A tattoo on your lower back," he mused carefully, his hands moving to grasp your love handles possessively leading you to the bed.

"You're putting ideas in my head." he whispers still staring at you hips.

His words were laced with a raw intensity that sent shivers down your spine. His eyes bore into yours so intently it made you heart race and your heart clench.

Did he want you to beg for it?

fine, you came prepared for that anyway.

'Please...ruin me. Fucking ruin me.'

is what you would have said if you were brave enough, instead all you could get out was

"oh..i-"

Yuta chuckles "flustered?"

you clear your throat and look away

a finger lifts your chin causing you to meet his predatory gaze again

"I'm gonna be real with you here bunny, I want to fuck your brains out. not professional of me I know but I wouldn't be saying it if I didn't know you wanted it too"

~~~~~

your fingers clawed at his back as he fucked you against the wall

his balls rhythmically slapping against you

you looked down enjoying the sight of him fucking into you , his cock branded with a white ring of your cum.

"Yuta," you gasp, breath hitching, "I want more."

“Oh, you want more?” he responds with a smirk, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "I can definitely give you more."

The motion of his thrusts causes your stomach to quiver, muscles trembling in response as your body matches his rhythm. Each movement is intense, sending waves of sensation through you.

Your throat feels raw from all the shouting and moaning—so much so that you can barely voice how close you are. Instead, your grip tightens around his arm, fingers digging into his skin in a desperate, wordless plea, silently telling him that you’re right on the edge.

"Already, Y/N?" he taunts, not even slowing his relentless pace. His voice is a mix of amusement and intensity, each word vibrating through you.

Before you can process his words, the sensation crashes over you, making your toes curl, your back arching away from the wall. Your mouth falls open, releasing a silent scream as the overwhelming pleasure grips you.

The release is so intense that tears spill down your cheeks, your body trembling under the weight of it all. But he doesn't stop—his rhythm remains the same, drawing out every ounce of sensation, leaving you breathless and barely able to think.

have you ever been fucked so hard you stomach started to hurt?

but fuck, you didn't want him to stop

soon you started to feel the burn of it all, our body twitched and trembled.

you fought so hard to speak but you couldn't even form a thought

suddenly it was all too much.

your head spun , your eyes rolled back and your body shook with one more orgasm

"Yuta please!" you screamed your hand instinctually trying to push him away from you and he only responded by gripping both your wrist in one hand.

"behave!" he growled out biting your nipple as a form of punishment but all that did was give you another orgasm.

"Ah! I'm-oh...please...fuck me daddy....please" you cried hysterically.

It's embarrassing what a good fuck can do to the mind

"Fuck bunny, such a dirty fucking mouth" he whispers as he bring his hand to your face gripping your jaw.

"open for me baby" he coos

you mouth is wide open not even a millisecond later and oh my hell

you died and came back when he spat in your mouth.

"swallow that shit" he thrusts deeper and harder.

"SHIT!" You scream out as he reaches a spot that you never had touched

he smiles at you mischievously "found it"

and just like that you had two more orgasms before you realized,

Yuta didn't cum yet

which could only mean one thing

"I'm not done with you bunny. I want you from the back"

You shook your head, still in a daze. " T-tired....t'much...mmm"

he kisses your temple oh so sweetly as anything but sweet words fall from his lips "i know baby but I want to see you cry some more when i fuck you harder. besides, don't you want daddy to cum all over you baby?

you look up at him with tear filled eyes "yes daddy"

he smiles showing his teeth "then be a good bunny and get on all fours for me"

~

"ah fuck" was what he said when he finally sank into you again.

his hands roamed your back squeezing and giving attention to your rolls

"You were fucking made for me" he moaned out in utter bliss.

looks like you did affect him like he affected you.

he was relentless with his thrust.

so fucking eager.

the room was just filled with the sound of your ass meeting his cock and oh was it music to your ears

"the view from here is fucking amazing baby"

he slaps your ass cheek repeatedly and you already know its bruised red.

from the mirror on the wall you could see him rubbing his hands all over your stretch marks as he mouths an inaudible "fuck"

You also see that he's going to take it up a notch when he lifts one of his legs up on to the stool. giving him a deeper angle as he pummels into you

"you grip on the white sheet on the tattoo bed as you scream

"I'M GONNA CUM!"

you fall on your chest as the strength leaves your arms. your eyes blur with tears for the the umpteenth time and you bite your lip so hard you taste blood

"I know baby me too" he pants out chest heaving as he tries to maintain his pace

"mmm-I'm cumming...i'm cumming- ah shit!" you manage to get out as your stomach tightens.

you feel Yuta swelling inside you but he pulls out just intime as white ropes of cum are painted over your back.

you barley can keep your eyes open as you see Yuta use his hands to spread his cum all over your stretchmark- filled ass cheeks

"holy shit: he says collapsing on top of you.

you're quiet for a moment not finding the strength to speak as yet

"i should've taken you on a date first bunny" Yuta says filling the silence

you sigh contently "you still can."

[zhivaoverdrive]

Filling the Void Breast Expansion and Butt Expansion via Saline Expander Implants.

But you've seen the image, too late.

Each image from the poster wall is available in full on the extras gallery, some with their own small stories.

Have fun.

----- As I pushed open the door, my eyes widened in horror. Lani lay sprawled across her bed, her body resembling a collection of medicine balls that had been inflated one too many times. Her breasts hung from her chest like overfilled water balloons, threatening to burst at any moment. 

The soft light cast by the lamp on her nightstand danced across her skin, highlighting every vein and crease as if trying to accentuate the sheer magnitude of her transformation. The implants themselves seemed to be straining against Lani's skin, like four enormous balloons about to burst at any moment.

Lani's eyes snapped towards mine, wide with surprise and shame. She looked guilty, her face flushed like a person who'd just been caught cheating. Her gaze darted around the room as if searching for a way to make this situation disappear, but the evidence was undeniable. It was like trying to hide a skyscraper behind a curtain – impossible.

I took in the scene: her already-enormous frame now straining against the seams of reality; empty saline solution bottles littering the room like discarded confetti; and Lani's body... altered, distended by the relentless stream of liquid she'd forced into it. The four orbs of saline inside her seemed to be straining against their containment, as if desperate to escape were it not for Lani's stretched skin holding on with all its might.

"It's not that big of a deal," she said, her voice laced with justification. "I'm fine. Just... just this little bit more..."

I took a deep breath before speaking. "Lani, I know we agreed monthly would be the limit," I reminded her gently.  "But you know how close you came to... complications. And yet here you are again, doing it without supervision."

Lani looked at me pleadingly, her eyes welling up with tears. "Please," she whispered, the air thickening with shame and desperation.

The shame and desperation, struggled to come to terms with being caught. AGAIN.

On one hand, I was impressed by her willingness to take control of her body and push the boundaries of what society considers "OK".

But I was also worried about how far she was taking things. Like, expanders... that's some next-level stuff.

And not just that - Lani had taken her body modification game to a whole new level by having expanders in her butt as well.

I couldn't help but wonder what kind of discomfort she must be going through with those things implanted in her backside. And yet...part of me couldn't help but admire her spirit.

I get that Lani wanted to change herself, but this was just crazy. "You're not even trying to hide what you're doing," I said, shaking my head in amazement. "You're trying to turn yourself into a human balloon or something!"

But as soon as the words left my mouth, I knew I had spoken too bluntly.

"You're using expanders like they're some kind of...I don't know, saline-filled superpower or something!" I said, trying to lighten my tone.

"I just need this one more time," she said quietly, her voice filled with reverence.  "I promise I'll slow down after this. It's not like..."

She trailed off, looking down at the floor as if embarrassed by her own words. But that did not last long.

Lani gazed up at the posters on her wall. Her gaze lingered on the statuesque figures, their bodies seemingly defying gravity itself - their breasts rose up from their chests like mountains, butts jutted out far behind them.

"Look at them," Lani said quietly, her voice filled with awe and longing. "They're doing it... Just look at them - so many people adore them, that one's been on TV!"

As Lani admired these perfect forms of femininity, the competing idea inside of her believed she was still the waifish girl she'd been years ago stewed. Trapped between two conflicting realities unable to be reconciled.

"And honestly, what's another litre of saline when you're already..."

I didn't push her for more. Another unnecessary question. A different tack was in order.

"Lani, baby," I said carefully,

"You've never removed ANY saline before. I'm not even exactly sure if we can. What if this is a one-way process without going back to the doctor..."

Her eyes dropped, and she nodded slowly. "I know, but what's the worst that could happen? You'll still l-" "Ah," I interrupted her, trying to sound more reassuring than concerned. "The weight of... well, let me ask you this: how much saline are we talking about here?"

Lani looked down at her chest, a sheepish expression spreading across her face. "I've got 10 litres in each boob.."

My eyes widened in shock. Ten litres per implant? That was... that was a lot of saline. A lot more than last time.

"And?" I prompted, trying to keep my tone light despite the gravity of the situation.

Lani faltered for a moment before she spoke up again. "And... um... well, I might have also exceeded 10 litres in each butt cheek."

My jaw dropped. She couldn't be serious. Could she?

"Lani," I said softly, trying to keep my tone gentle despite the shock and concern I was feeling. "You're telling me that you've got a total of 40,000cc saline forced in your body?"

Lani nodded sheepishly, her face flushing with embarrassment.

I glanced at Lani's ass and saw the telltale signs of strain: deep creases in her skin, fine lines tracing the contours of each implant, and an eerie sheen that hinted at stretchmarks. Her veins stood out like blue highways, pulsing with effort as they struggled to deliver oxygen to her skin.

"The weight of this much saline is crushing you," I said firmly. "You've already been struggling with everyday tasks for months now. You're going to continue to struggle even more as time goes on. Your body simply can't keep up."

Lani's gaze faltered as she tried to consider the consequences of her actions.

"What does the future hold?" I continued. "Don't even get me started on trying to cook dinner or do laundry. You're being short-sighted! What happens when you can't even get out of bed in the morning?"

The silence between us grew thick with unspoken understanding – a tacit agreement that more caution was needed, but also a recognition that we were both too afraid to seek help.

She nodded slowly, her eyes never leaving mine.

"You're right," she said quietly. "I'll need you".

[i-am-a-bad-influence-writes]

Mortality Defined

Masterlist Word count: 1.6 k Halsin x Reader Read on AO3

Summary: You are a human, Halsin is an elf. Your lifespan is much shorter than his and he wonders if life is worth living if you're not in it.

Writer's note: I don't know why but I still can't post a full work here. I don't know why. If anyone has any solutions for me, please let me know. I'm getting frustrated.

The year changes from sunlit beach days to a sunset of leaves. Halsin always admires this time of year. The dying of the world in anticipation for new life. It's a wonderful thing and something he often ponders on.  A year is an hour in the long, long lifespan of an elf. In Halsin's busy and chaotic life it feels more like a second, but these past weeks travelling with her and the other friends he made felt like centuries. She, so humble and kind, carried the world on her shoulders.  He feels he will never understand her fully. She is human. Where he has already lived 350 years, she will get a 100 if she's lucky. With their way of life, it will probably be less. A human's body dies around them every second of every day after they're done growing.  She was 27 when they embarked on their journey to safe Faerun, a young adult in human years. When he was 27 he was just latching off the helping hands of his parents. She told him she had been living on her own since she was 18.   Now she's 32 and has been living with him since the Absolute was put down. He can tell she's slowly ageing. She is forming some smile lines and little crows feet at the corners of her eyes. Halsin hadn't really thought about elderly people as his kind doesn't visibly age much after a certain point, but then he was confronted with Shadowheart's mother who looked so frail. It suddenly made him realize that she will someday look like that as well.  Even so, there's this thing that is only found in those that are human. The phenomenon of the Impenetrable Human Spirit. A death grip on life, refusal to let go in the direst of times. When all the odds are stacked against you but you refuse to let them define you. Which sounds strange until you meet a few humans in time of war. After he realized that, he understood why so many Flaming Fists are human.  He hopes he'll never have to witness it again but to see someone so fiercely cling onto life while any other would have already perished in the same circumstances is truly a sight. Humans are a force to be reckoned with. Even with their short lifespans, they try to put something worthwhile on this plane. They want to feel accomplished.  'Halsin, dinner's ready,' her angelic voice calls from inside and Halsin snaps out of his trance. 'Did you want to eat outside?' He looks over his shoulder through the open backdoor of their cosy little cottage, straight into the kitchen where she is plating up dinner. She's a wonderful cook, an amazing partner, and a great artist. His days are spent trying to find the best way to worship her being in hopes it'll buy her another year.  'That'd be lovely. Thank you.’ She walks out with two plates and a smile on her face. He takes his plate from her as she sits down on the grass next to him.  'You were so far away all day,' she notes with her smile still on her lips, 'where did your mind go?'  'My heart, you would not want to know.'  'Don't worry me, love. You can tell me.' Halsin takes a second to compose himself, playing with his food for a second. She always tells him everything, what reason does he have to keep his worries to himself? She'll understand. She always does.  'I was pondering your mortality.'  'How so?'  'Well, I have nothing but time, but that is not the same for you. I have lived over three centuries. That's three, maybe four, human lifetimes. You are merely a tenth of my age and yet you feel like an equal.' He looks over to her, a somber smile now plays on her lips.  'That's not all, is it?'  'It is not.'  'Are you worried you will be alone after I pass? That you won't have enough time to know me?'  'Something like that, yes.'  'Something like that?' 

Read the remainder on AO3

[rafesbabyg1rl]

The Watcher ~ Part One

Summary: Rafe Cameron x Reader, Stalker!Rafe x Pogue!Reader Reader's parents work late on Friday nights, which she spends alone. Except Reader hasn't been alone in a long time, not that she knows of at least. Rafe has watched you for years, he's very good at it. He has no plans of formally meeting you, as he's satisfied with the current arrangement. He likes it better when Reader doesn't know he's watching. But his idea of staying an anonymous stalker is ruined when reader catches him in her bedroom one Friday night. Rafe has to figure out how to fix his mistake before he loses the only thing that makes his life worth living.

Warnings: Rafe stalks reader...that's literally the entire plot. He's pretty pervy in this, I guess. Masturbation (Rafe) in front of unconscious reader, strong/vulgar language, somnophilia (I guess?), death threat(?). If I missed anything from this part that I should include in the warnings, please let me know!

Word Count: 5.9k

Author Note: My sneak peek got a few likes, so thank you if you liked it, y'all are the reason I'm finally posting this part! I'm not sure how I feel about this fic so far, I definitely have a habit of overly critiquing my own work and never being fully satisfied with it, but I'm trying to get over that. I don't have plans for this fic, it's just going in whatever direction I can think of as I write, so if you have any suggestions, PLEASE PLEASE PLEASEEE let me know, I'll write pretty much anything. This is my first work published on tumblr and the first thing I've written in years, so I hope it's at least readable, and maybe even a little enjoyable. If just one person enjoys this, then my mission is accomplished. Thank you, I hope you enjoy! And do NOT be shy to share feedback or give suggestions/requests. Again, thank you!

For those of you that DID read the sneak peek, a large portion of this part was included in the sneak peek, but I highly suggest reading it over in it's entirety. This draft has undergone several additional rounds of editing and I believe it is better than the version I published as a sneak peek.

One thing about humans is that we always want what we can’t have, especially when everyone else wants that same thing. It’s just something all humans do; but what happens when you already have more than you need and everything you could ever want? Well, almost everything. Rafe Cameron has more money than he could spend in his own lifetime, he can practically buy anything he wants. Except one thing, you.

At first he just thought you were pretty, but the more he saw you out in public the more and more he liked you. The way you’d talk or laugh when you were out with your friends…god, he could tell just how sweet you are. Too delicate for him to touch, like the wings of a butterfly or the petals of a flower. This is when he went from wanting you to needing you. 

See, another thing about humans is that we admire things. And, admiration can easily turn into obsession. Everyone has been obsessed with something or someone at some point in life, it’s normal. Obsessions will come and go, like a cycle. You get obsessed with something, you get over it, and you let it go until a new obsession marks the beginning of the new cycle. But things are a bit different for Rafe, he has never gotten over anything like, ever. Not once has Rafe Cameron ever let anything in his life go. When Rafe wants something, when he needs something, he will do whatever it takes to get it. And oh, how he needs you.

Rafe’s fascination, his obsession with you has been going on for years. He won’t ever admit it, but his perfectly curated collection of your personal items in his closet proves just how bad he’s been obsessing over you. The first thing he had ever stolen from you was your drink, you had been at the same party and you left your red solo cup about three-quarters full. Nobody noticed anything when he casually picked up the cup and finished the rest of your beer, purposely lining his lips with where yours had touched the cup, which was perfectly marked by the lipstick you had been wearing. After you’d leave a restaurant, he’d take the straws from your drinks. Rafe eventually worked himself up to breaking into your house and stealing your things when nobody was home. And Rafe made sure to explore every single inch of your room. All of your favorite panties? Gone. He’d take everything, your shirts, bras, whatever he liked really. You had noticed things kept disappearing from your room, but you’d just think you misplaced it–whatever it may be, or left it in a bag somewhere. Rafe had a good system. He knows exactly how much and how often he can take from you. 

Rafe knows he’s sick. He knows that it’s wrong to watch you from outside your bedroom window, that it’s wrong to follow you around in public, to purposely bump into you so you have to mutter a ‘sorry’ as you move around him. He just really, really needs you. And in Rafe’s twisted, dark, mess of a mind he believes this is the best way–the only way. He couldn’t treat you like every other girl, no, you were special. You were his and you just didn’t know it yet. Starting early on in his life, Rafe has always been neglected, always pushed into the shadow of his younger sister, Sarah. He’s been told he ruins everything, that everything he touches turns to ash. And you’re way too perfect to ruin. So, he follows you around like a creep, lurking from a distance. Of course you didn't know he’s been following you everywhere…he liked it better that way.

Rafe knew the line had already been crossed. Hell, the line had been crossed a long fucking time ago. He doesn’t care anymore, he needs you. Heaven is smelling like you; and not because you had left your scent on him, but because he had bought the same perfume as you. He needed to know what you smell like, how sweet you are…and how sweet you taste. Heaven is watching your chest rise and fall as you sleep peacefully in your bed. Heaven is you.

What Rafe has been doing to you for years could be defined as worship. Rafe was worshiping you. He’s your good boy; your loyal man and he was going to take care of you; protect you, even if you don’t know it yet. You’re what he lives for; you’re all that keeps him going, the only thing he cares about. 

Since he’s been watching you for years, of course he knew your schedule. Of course he knew that on Fridays your parents work late at the local bar & grill that they own. This means you slept in your house by yourself practically every Friday night. So every Friday night, Rafe would sneak in through the back door that you always forget to lock. He just wants to check on you, he wants to see his pretty girl sleeping beautifully, he wants to know that his baby is okay. This is not a crime, it’s not a crime to care; he’s not insane, he’s just in love–if you could even call it that. How can it be wrong to protect what’s his? nOh, and god forbid anyone ever get in the way of his stalking routine, if anyone were to take you away from the inevitable path of meeting him…oh, the things he would do; whatever it takes.

One unforgettable Friday night, you fall asleep on your couch watching a rerun of one of your favorite shows. You enjoy being alone. If only you knew you haven’t been alone for a very long time. You’re woken up by sudden, loud noises coming from your bedroom, but you think maybe it’s just the cat, or maybe you didn’t shut your window. You get up from the couch and in several slow, cautious steps you tiptoe over to your room. When you enter your doorway, you’re immediately greeted by the sight of a tall and broad man standing in the center of your bedroom holding the last shirt you wore to his nose, breathing in your scent. The sight of all this makes you immediately freeze and stand motionless in your bedroom doorway, staring at him blankly. 

Rafe doesn’t startle when he realizes you’ve caught him red-handed. Instead, quite the opposite actually. He’s actually a bit amused, relieved even; if you hadn’t caught him just now, he never would’ve been able to work up the nerve to finally talk to you. He didn’t want to have to be creepy about things between you two, but he couldn’t talk to you like a normal person. It’d be too unpredictable, too unknown. Meeting you like this…he has all of the control. 

“There you are,” he grinned. “How beautiful…” The strangely offputting man gloated in your fear and it was obvious.

You take a step back from where you had been frozen. He takes a step forward. This cannot be happening, you think. Your brows furrow in hopelessness and defeat. Again, you freeze where you are standing, even more afraid to move now. 

You feel like you’ve seen the man before, which you have, plenty of times; but he was careful to never have too big of an interaction, so that you couldn’t recognize his face. You have no clue that you’ve been and always will be his.

 “W-wha…who are you? W-why are you in my house?” You try to keep your voice as strong as possible, but the way your words shake with trepidation betrays you. 

The man takes a quick step forward, slowing to a stop and putting his hands up in mock surrender as you jump back. “Woah, woah, hey…calm down, alright?”, he chuckles when he sees the utter horror and complete fright in your eyes. His tone switches into one of a little more seriousness, “I'm not here to hurt you, you don't need to be so scared...”.  If you didn’t feel like your only choice was to look him in the eyes, you might even believe him. But, you had no other option but to witness the animalistic spark in his eyes that lit up with each word he spoke. With each step he took, you took one further back—your heart dropped into your stomach at the sight of his cocky, twisted smile and the way he looked at you…like you’re a zebra grazing in your natural habitat and he’s the lion waiting to pounce and attack you in your own home. 

“I just wanted to see you," he leaned up against your dresser, taking in the look on your face. His face almost instantly drops the predatory look and adopts one of mock concern, almost convincing enough to hide his amusement. “Hey, it's okay, baby, it’s okay…”

“Please,” you beg. “If you leave I won’t call the cops. I won’t tell.”

Rafe cocks his head and lets out a slow breath, as if he’s disappointed in your reaction; you aren’t supposed to want him to leave. “Hey, hey…I’m not gonna hurt you. Just listen to me…you don’t wanna have to call the cops at three in the morning,” he elaborated. He’s trying to be as convincing as he can because he cannot screw this up. Even so, he still can’t help his smile that only grows at the sight of your terrified face. He shakes the smirk off, adopting a serious expression once more. “Especially when the cops won't be able to do a damn thing.” 

He continues to step closer to you with each word. He stops once his figure is looming over you, looking at you like a lion about to pounce on its prey. “You should really be more careful, sweetheart, leaving the back door open like that at this time of night, when you’re all alone…you never know who might be out there.” His voice is cold as he warns you about the dangers of the world; the dangers of himself. 

“Who are you?” You repeated. The man looks so familiar but you just couldn’t quite place his face anywhere. You just need to know what he wants; who he is. 

“That’s not important right now baby…we’re focused on you, yeah?” The man’s eyes widen, taking in every detail of your face; the only other times he’s seen you this close is when he watches you sleep. 

You could feel his breath on your face as he spoke. The look in his eyes tells you to take another step back, but when your back collides with the wall you jump; there’s nowhere left for you to go and that was exactly how he wanted it. He wanted you like this alone, afraid, and cornered. He loved your fear. The man stares at you with a predatory look although aside from the darkness and lust in his eyes, you can see something else, but…what is it?  

“W-what do you want?” You ask, keeping as calm as you can. Even though with every passing second the air gets thinner and thinner. Your stomach is in knots and your throat starts to close up. Not to mention the stinging tears in your eyes, threatening to fall at any given moment.

“Me?” he cocked an eyebrow, his eyes shamelessly roaming your body as he blew out a huff. “I just wanna have a little chat, that's all...” The unknown man takes another step towards you, invading your personal space, his tall frame towering over you as his bottom lip finds a home between his teeth. Rafe reaches up and tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear. “No need to be so scared, baby...”

“T-talk about what?” You have no idea what this man who you don’t know, could possibly want to talk about with you. Why is he acting like he knows you when you’re sure you’ve never even seen him before? Why is he…admiring you? No, that couldn’t be right. The mystery man is so confusing, all his twists and turns giving you whiplash. 

“Ah, you see...” he responds, pausing to place his other hand on the wall behind you, almost trapping you in. You feel his hot breath against the sensitive skin of your face, burning you like hot steam. His breath was slow and steady. He was completely calm. He liked this. He gave you a genuine smirk, bringing his face closer to your ear. “It’s more of a proposition really…”

“What is it…?” You ask. Not out of curiosity because honestly, you’re too afraid to know. But because you figure things might, just might go better for you if you play along. He stayed silent for a moment—enjoying the look in your eyes and your erratic breathing.

“All this fear…all this trembling...” he trails off as he brings his hand up to your chin, his thumb slowly tracing the outline of your lower lip. “It's nice to finally meet you...” He chuckles and leans in so that his lips nearly touch your ear. “Will you stop shaking like that if I tell you what I want?” His thumb moves from your bottom lip and he tucks a piece of your hair behind your ear; he doesn’t want anything getting in the way of his view of your pretty face.“Hmmm?” he challenged. “Or will you still be shaking like a scared little puppy?”

“I-I don’t…” You stutter, not being able to speak or even think clearly with the way he’s glaring at you. 

“Shhhh… ” he tutted, bringing his other hand from the wall to your lower back and drawing you even closer to him—until your body was almost flush against his, his touch surprisingly warm. “You're not answering my question,” he whispers your name as he runs his fingers through your hair, it’s softer than he’d imagined. 

“Please just…” The tears were no longer threatening as they began to fall down your cheeks. “Please…” Hearing this man who you do not know, say your name, was probably the most frightening thing to happen to you yet. 

“Shhh, stop that...” he calmly commanded when he saw the tears falling from your pretty eyes. Rafe's voice was soft but stern—he hated seeing you so distressed. His hand moved from your lower back to your chin, making you look up at him. “Hey it’s okay…it’s okay baby, no need for tears. I just wanna talk to you is all." You almost believe him for a moment with how sincere the glint in his eyes appeared. But you’ve picked up on his manipulative expressions. 

“My parents will be home soon…” You vaguely remember your parents mentioning something about something and blah blah blah…they’re closing early tonight. You really hope it’s true and isn’t just a figment of your imagination; something your mind is making up so you don’t completely give up. 

A cocky smile returned to his face as he let a small huff of amusement slip past his lips. He knew your parents were working late, just like every other Friday night. "Bullshit,” he chuckled. His hand moved back to your lower back, holding you against him. “It’s just you and me, pretty girl.” He grabs your waist and within the next second, you’re on your bed and he’s hovering over you. You can feel his hot breath in your ear, you can smell him, feel the excessive heat radiating from his body. He speaks quietly now, more serious than he’s been this entire time, “Don’t ever fuckin’ lie to me again. Got it?”

His words provoke a small whimper from you. How long has he been watching you? What’s he gonna do? What does he want to talk about? Your mind is filled with questions you’re too afraid to ask. “I-I’m not lying.” He leans down, his lips almost touching yours. Rafe’s eyes are looking straight into yours, admiring the complete and utter fear your eyes possess. He doesn’t want you to be scared of him. But fuck, does he love it.

“Oh yeah?” He mumbles as he presses his face into your hair, taking in your scent. He can’t believe he’s finally this close to you. He didn’t think it’d ever happen, and if you didn’t catch him tonight, it probably wouldn’t have. It’s meant to be, he thinks. “What did I tell you about lying, hm baby? I know you’re fuckin’ lyin’ to me, so you wanna try that again?”

Before your brain could muster up some bullshit response, the sound of the front door unlocking echoes through the hall and into your bedroom. Rafe holds his breath and puts his hand over your mouth, causing your eyes to widen as he leans to the side to glance down the hallway at the front door. “Shh…”, he whispers. You weren’t lying. Your parents came home from work early and they’re about to turn the doorknob and come inside the house. Rafe looks at you, the look in his eyes beyond unsettling. “Tell the cops…tell anyone, and I’ll come back and fuckin’ kill you, okay? This is our secret. Don’t make me come back and hurt you babe, I really, really don’t wanna have to do that, alright?” 

He has to be bluffing, right? But, when you look up to meet his gaze, you can tell; you can tell he meant every single syllable that he spoke. It’s not like the cops would believe you if you said you had a stalker anyways, you’re a pogue. And cops never believe a pogue. Rafe doesn’t need a response from you, the fear in your eyes tells him all he needs to know.

 Just before you hear the front door open, Rafe smirks at you. “We’re gonna have so much fun together baby.” Reluctantly, the disturbed man leans back and takes his hands away from you. Without another word, he walks over to your bedroom window and pushes it open. Before ducking to climb out, the large man looks back at you. Your breath hitches even further if that’s even possible.

 “Goodnight puppy.” The outline of his smug grin is visible even in the darkness of your room. Just as you hear the quiet voices of your parents enter your house, the dark figure turns and exits your window. When the man is outside you sit up and rush over to shut and lock the window behind him. 

With caution, Rafe watches as your mother comes to peek her head in your bedroom. She only lingers in your doorway long enough to see your dark shape laying in bed. Covered in blankets, you pretend to sleep, knowing that you wouldn’t be able to hold a casual conversation with your mother at the moment. And the last thing you want to do is raise any alarm. Not while he’s out there–whoever he is. Hot, salty tears fall from your eyes, wetting the soft skin of your cheeks. When she shuts the door, you let out a shaky breath, finally being able to breathe.But, you keep your eyes sealed shut. At least then you can’t see if the man is still watching you from outside your window. You lie awake for hours, how are you meant to go back to sleep after whatever the hell just happened? All you can do now is wait. Is he coming back? When will he come back? Who is he? Why does he want you? There’s a million different questions and worst scenarios circling around in your head. So, you just wait, it’s all you can do. 

As you wait, the hours turn into days, days turning into a week as the next Friday approaches you; you spend your time worrying about having to be home alone again. There still had been no sign of him since your encounter last week, but you decide to stay the night at a friend’s house, not wanting to take the risk. The second Friday after you came face-to-face with your stalker, you get a friend to spend the night with you. And now, after four weeks of waiting there’s still no sign of the deranged man. Although, if you had no knowledge of him stalking you for years he clearly is good at staying hidden. As the fourth Friday approaches, you think over your options. You can go to a friend’s house or have a friend stay over, as you’ve been doing. But, you’re tired of waiting for something to happen. You’re sick of not feeling safe in your own home and of having to look over your shoulder at all times. You used to love being alone, and now it’s been weeks since you’ve spent any time to yourself. You’ve had enough. This Friday you’re not hiding, you’re done being a coward. You will not allow this creep to keep taking away everything you love; you won’t allow yourself to waste any more time worrying about that psycho. So, you stay at home by yourself. He’s not gonna show, right? He was just bluffing or on drugs or something, that’s what you convince yourself.

You pull back the fluffy comforter on your bed and climb in. You pull the covers up and completely over yourself, you used to do this as a little girl when you’d have a nightmare or you’re scared of the thunder or the monster in your closet. If the blanket could protect you when you were little it should work now…right? Well, maybe it’d still work if you had a nightmare, but logically, what is it gonna do against your stalker? But no matter how much you force yourself to believe that he’s not coming back, you still find yourself praying. You’ve never been very religious, but recently you pray to whoever will listen. 

You had bought some sleeping pills from the store a few days after you discovered your secret stalker. They helped you sleep, since your brain hasn’t once stopped thinking about him since the whole fiasco. Reaching over, you pull out the drawer of your nightstand. You grab the bottle of pills, you swallow a couple dry and set the rest on your nightstand. The pills start to kick in quite sooner than usual, must be because you took double the amount…you’re gonna need them to fall asleep tonight. Your first night alone in weeks. In just a few short minutes, you’re out cold, buried underneath an absurd amount of pillows and blankets.

Rafe spent the past few weeks feeling overwrought after what he did. He feels wrong–a feeling he’s not used to experiencing. But it’s because he knows he’s ruined any chance he might’ve had with you. Before you caught him in your bedroom, he had a chance that you could meet him regularly and think he was just a normal guy. But now, all hopes of you ever thinking he’s ‘normal’ have been abandoned. He actually feels shame and…regret for his actions? He’s been seeing less and less of you, and it’s making him angry, so fucking angry. Your schedule has been relatively the same for the past years and now you’re switching it up? You’re hiding from him; running from him just like everyone else in his life. Maybe the things his family has been saying about him for most of his life is true; maybe everything he touches does turn to ash. God, why does he ruin everything? 

You are the one thing, the only thing that Rafe did not want to ruin. You’re the one thing in his life that’s too perfect to ruin…too innocent. But, the damage has been done. He doesn't have many options left. He could leave you alone, but then he’d be weak for not sticking to his word and he can’t have you thinking he’s weak and that you have the power. He could go back, but then what would he do? There was absolutely no way in hell you’d seriously talk to him, and he didn’t want to force himself onto you. He really wanted you to need him back, you have to want it. But everything you do or say now will be out of fear, it’ll be you trying to stay alive. He wanted you to be desperate for him, not desperate to get rid of him. Either way, you’re never gonna forgive him; you’ll always hate him now. Since you’ll feel the same no matter what he does now, he decides that he just needs to see you, he needs to talk to you again. It’s been far too long since he’s been close to you. He can’t take another goddamn second without seeing his reason to live.

He hurries over to your house, parking an entire block away as usual. He makes sure no eyes are on him as he sneaks around to your backyard. Rafe tries peeking through the curtains that block your window to see if you were in bed or not, but he can’t get a good view. He needs to know if you’re home. He needs to see you. 

Rafe sneaks around to the side of your house, checking all windows and doors in the process, but he has no such luck. But he doesn’t give up yet, he’ll get in, he’ll find a way. He tries the side door that leads into your garage. He lets out a giant breath of relief when the door clicks open. Once he’s inside the garage, he takes a quick glance around to analyze his surroundings and burn every inch of your house into his memory. When he finally enters your house, he takes his time to look around. Obviously Rafe knew you were a pogue–he knew everything about you, but you never really looked or acted like one. However, the inside of your home puts your life on display, making it very clear you’re a pogue. 

You sleep soundly, only being interrupted by the occasional dream; completely unaware that your stalker is making his way down the hall and into your bedroom. Rafe opens the door quietly. Your room is dark like the rest of your house, but the moonlight shining through your thin curtains provides just enough light that he can see the outline of your sleeping body. Now that your presence has been confirmed, he feels like he can finally breathe and he lets out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding. 

Before he became totally obsessed with you and he’d see you occasionally in public, you used to just make him horny. He’d catch a glimpse of your smile or hear the softness in the way you spoke, or the innocence in your sweet laugh and his dick would be hard within seconds. And when his obsession grew and he’d watch you more frequently, sex with other girls started not doing anything for him. He needed you…he needs you. When he actually started paying attention to the way you spoke, the way you acted, he fell in love–what he thinks is love anyways. Rafe realized you’re the sweetest, most pure person he’s ever known. He didn’t think people like you really existed. His discovery led him to watch you more closely, he started taking more risks just because he needed to find your flaw. There’s no way you’re actually this perfect, it has to be an act. Now, after years of watching you he can confidently say that you really are just that perfect. Rafe needs you for more than just getting off now, he needs your comfort, he needs the kindness that radiates off of you. Which is why he’s always trying to find a way to get closer to you, he needs to absorb your sweetness. But hes really done it now; he’s fucked up big time. You hate him.

He hadn’t realized that the hate he brought upon you would tint the kindness that radiates for your being. He has to get you to let go of the hate he’s caused you, he needs you to be yourself again. He just doesn't know how, if it’s even possible.

 As you sleep soundly, his large frame towers over you as he stares down at you through the darkness. You look so peaceful, so innocent. It physically pains him to know that he’s taken away parts of your innocence. All he can do is stare at you as he mentally curses himself. He can’t wake you up and ruin your small moment of peace. It’s better if you don’t know he’s there. 

Your stalker slowly raises his hand and uses his thumb and pointer finger to pull your blanket down to your knees. Even with the blankets pulled down most of your body was hidden from him. Almost everything is left to the imagination in the loose, patterned pj pants and the oversized, long sleeve shirt that you’re wearing. He can only see a small portion of your lower stomach due to your shirt slightly riding up. And that small bit of skin is enough to trigger his memories of you. Because of course he’s seen you countless times; he’s got your body memorized.

He’s practically panting as he takes in the sight of you, imagining that you’re unclothed beneath him; his memory is sharp enough to almost see it. His cock grows to press against his jeans and his eyes trail up to your beautiful face. The ache in his needy cock starts to become unbearable. Your name slips past his lips in the form of a mumble when he starts to palm himself through his newly tightened jeans. 

Okay, Rafe has definitely jerked off to the thought of you, your smell…everything about you makes him lose whatever control he ever even had to begin with. Something he hasn’t gotten to do yet is jerk off with you right in front of him as a live viewing source, fresh for his eyes. He’s gonna be able to cross that off the bucket list soon enough; he can’t wait any longer. His hand stops its ministrations over his jeans as his head turns and he moves over to your closet, grabbing a pair of delicate, worn panties from the top of your laundry hamper. He brings the treasure up to his nose to smell you. God, he could cream his fucking pants right now. He quietly walks back over to you, taking a look at the pill bottle on your nightstand. He picks it up with his free hand, eyes quickly scanning over the label. He smirks as he sets it back down. Rafe turns his head to look back at you. His smirk grows even wider as he leans back, cocking his head as he observes you. Yeah, you’re definitely gonna be out for a while.

With his pants and boxers around his ankles, he stands over you. Your panties between his hand and his cock as his fist slowly pumps up and down his length. His other hand meticulously pulls your shirt up to reveal your chest.

“Fuckkk…” he whispers under his breath as his bottom lip is held captive between his teeth. Your perfect tits are spilling out of your bra as you lie asleep on your back. He lightly fiddles with the ends of your hair as his hand pumps over his dick repeatedly and without rhythm. He takes his time, Rafe never likes to rush this. Especially not with you.

Your subconscious mind reacts to his light touch and sounds, pulling you into a wet dream; seeing as a main side effect of the medication you took was vivid dreams. You’ve also been unusually horny lately, probably because you’d been too afraid to touch yourself when you thought you were being watched twenty-four/seven. His fingers trail up your stomach and into the valley of your breasts with feather light touch.

You stir a bit, not because you felt him, but because the dream you’ve been thrown into by your subconscious is starting to get your body all worked up. You’ve been extra horny recently and keep having sex dreams since you haven’t been able to touch yourself the past few weeks, having a stalker and all. As he leans down to lightly kiss the skin in between your boobs, a moan slips past his lips, vibrating off of your skin and interrupting the mostly silent room. The only other sound that can be heard in the quiet room is that caused by Rafe’s hand quickly moving up and down his cock; the friction caused by the soft fabric of your panties generates a quiet noise. Pre-cum leaks from his slit and seeps into the fabric of your recently worn panties. He leans back down to create a hickey on your chest and hopes that you won’t wake up from the sudden feeling, although if you did that might be even better. Shaking the selfish thought out of his head, he sucks strongly at the smooth skin between your beautiful tits. He pulls his mouth off with a pop! Leaning back to see the mark he left, he smirks knowing you’ll see it too eventually. The already rhythmless movements of his hand gets even more erratic the closer he gets to reaching his orgasm. 

The man standing above you runs his hand back down your chest and abdomen as you sleep. Completely unaware of what's happening to your physical body right now, you begin to get all wrapped up in your dream. You only ever get sex dreams when you’re so overly horny, which you’ve been the past few weeks. That combined with the sleeping medication you took, made this particular dream feel different; it felt so…real. The only dream-like part about it was that you couldn’t see the man's face for whatever reason. 

While you’re in a deep sleep, you involuntarily let out a needy whine as your active mind plays games with you. When Rafe hears you he thinks he imagined it, until he hears you do it again. He wonders if you could feel him, except he’s not even touching you right now. Realizing that's clearly not the reason, he furrows his brows in confusion. He pulls the duvet cover completely off of you to reveal the way you keep periodically squirming as your body searches for the same feeling your mind is experiencing; and the way your toes tighten up and curl as you’re tricked into thinking you feel pleasure. 

He can’t take it, not when you look like this. The man hovering over your unconscious figure lets out a lewd moan that corrupts the silence as hot strings of his cum spurt out of the pink, glistening tip of his cock and onto the pair of your panties that he's got clenched in his fist, immediately soaking into the fabric. Surprisingly, when he gets through his orgasm, he adoringly covers you back up with your blankets and leaves your house, locking the door he entered through to be sure you were safe. He got enough to satisfy him for now as he works on a plan to change the way you think of him.  He’ll be back for more of you soon enough. He has to fix this; the biggest mistake he’s ever made and the only regret he’ll ever carry. 

To be continued...

Thank you for reading! I hope this was enjoyable and not a waste of time. I spent a lot of time on this part, especially with the editing since I never really feel done with anything. If you have literally ANY feedback, questions, or suggestions, PLEASE feel free to let me know! I don't really have any solid plans for this fic so if you have any ideas I just might include them, there's not much I won't write!

[thisgirlnamedblusy]

Heey! I hope you're doing well! I would like to request a story about gp Donna having a daughter with a maid who abandoned her when the child was born. Donna raises her daughter alone and homeschool her for most of the part until her daughter tells her that she wants music lessons so Donna asks the duke a piano. The duke being all noisy gets the tea about Donna's daughter wanting music lessons and suggests Donna to hire reader as her teacher, an excellent pianist with good reputation. Both Donna and her daughter (like mother, like daughter) fall in love with reader with Donna's daughter wanting reader to become her other mom (and unlike Donna, her daughter is not that shy and is always complementing reader and dropping hints to her that Donna is very much single).

One afternoon after a lesson Donna listens to reader sing while she plays the piano and is mesmerized by her beautiful voice. Perhaps reader is singing a classical piece like Ave Maria by Schubert and that sort of reminds her of her family before the black gods faith and all that (I suppose it would make sense not to sing about other gods except for the black ones? So that's why gets more enamored with reader, for bringing her back those memories). Anywaysss, Donna with a little help from her daughter confesses to reader, who of course has fallen in love with Donna and her offspring.

welll, I hope that wasn't too much of a request 😅

Have a good day!

Yesss!!! I have to say I loved that request, thank you :D! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!!! :)))))

Rebuilding a broken life

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Fluff, a bit of angst, Donna being Donna and a single mother, that's curious :D, G!P Donna (implied), Donna's POV

Word count: 8,709

Summary: I only have my daughter...

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

Sometimes I try to live in the past, to remember what those times were like, when life was much easier. I would have given anything to go back to that moment, to reject Mother Miranda's offer to make me her daughter, a Lord.

But being named Lord, obtaining the divine grace of the Black Gods didn’t illuminate my path, rather, it darkened it. I always lived isolated. I was never interested in people. They were evil, they laughed at me, at my appearance, at my scar. I could consider my transition from villager to Lord a success, since those mocking laughs turned into cries and screams of terror, but, apart from that, nothing else changed.

At least nothing that had to do with my condition as a lonely and isolated woman. The reason for the mockery and for my behavior mutated in an unpleasant way; turning me into something like a deformed monster, as much as Miranda denied it.

The Gods' whim was just a moment of fun, and with me... they went too far. Not only did my eye disappear, not only did they turn me into an unpleasant being. They also played with my body.

I didn't care too much, I got used to it soon, but I didn't know how to get used to loneliness. My solitary life only ended partially. Angie, my doll since I was a child, came to life thanks to my efforts, to my desperation to hear another voice other than those in my head.

It might seem like a positive change, in part it was, but it wasn't what I was looking for by giving myself over to the black claws of the village. Getting out of that spiral of madness and loneliness was my true goal, but things never turn out the way you expect. Neither the new parts of my body, nor my powers, nor my appearance made it change. Madness continued to eat away my brain, the madness that came from an illness that had stalked my family for years.

If you put it all together, a deformed face, a different body, terrifying powers, madness and absolute loneliness, you get a legend, a character from a scary story, you get me: the last Lord, the doll maker, Donna Beneviento.

I stopped aging. I stopped being a baseless legend to become a woman to be feared, respected or even revered. My new siblings seemed to enjoy that change, to exercise power over the rest of the villagers, to inflict terror on them.

I was never interested in that kind of power, the power to get what I wanted when I wanted and the power to never be questioned. I had become so accustomed to my solitude that it became my refuge, a refuge for all eternity.

One day, after my sister Alcina convinced me, I decided to try out what it would be like to live with someone, to hear other different voices in the mansion, and I accepted one of her maids. She was a beautiful girl. Her name was Helga.

It could have been because of the lack of habit, because of my heart's longing to not feel alone, the reasons really didn't matter. It didn't take long for me to fall in love with her. I had never believed in love, I never had the chance to experience what my books talked about. I was eager to do it, to love, to be loved.

Looking back on the past, I now think that maybe I should have thought things better, understand that love is something that happens between two people, and not just for one of them.

Helga accepted my feelings and let herself be loved by a monster like me. In her eyes I could see the lie, the deception. I could see a false smile when she heard me say: I love you. I didn't give it any importance, she had to love me.

Of course I let myself be carried away by my clumsy feelings, by my erratic heart. I took that girl. I made her mine when I wanted, when I needed. I thought everything would change from that moment on, and I was right.

I wasn’t careful when I claimed her body as mine, and there were consequences. After a few months with the illusion of living a romance, it happened, I got her pregnant. I never thought about having a family, about starting one.

I had to get used to the idea of ​​having a baby with someone who, deep down, I knew didn’t love me, but seeing my child grow in her womb mesmerized me too much. After a few months, that child came into the world, a beautiful girl, Maria Beneviento.

I came to think that I couldn’t be happier. I had a beautiful girl, a young maid at my side, everything was perfect, but, again, it was just an illusion. I remember the blizzard of that night, that terrible night.

“Shh, ti prego non piangere, tesoro…” I whispered while cradling the newborn, who wouldn't stop crying. “Oh, hai fame, vero?” I said, getting up to look for Helga, who, she told me, needed to rest.

I couldn't blame her. It had only been a week since the girl was born and she was exhausted.

I walked through the house with the girl in my arms. Poor thing, she was crying inconsolably. I looked for Helga in her room, the one she never wanted to leave. I will never be able to get over what I found.

The room was empty, there was no one there. I looked for her, but she was gone. In the baby's crib there was a note, a damn note that I burned in the fire, and whose words still burn in my heart.

I can't stand it anymore.

Everything I did, I did because I was afraid, because you scared me.

I can't stand having given my life to a monster like you, having a baby who will soon become a monster too.

I can't stay with you. I can't look my daughter in the face, a daughter I never wanted.

I never loved you, and I never will.

I'm leaving, Donna, I'm leaving forever. I wish I could have taken that innocent baby with me, but you terrify me, I know what you'll do to me.

I screamed, I cried, I hit everything within my reach. I couldn't believe those words and at the same time it seemed like I had read them somewhere else, perhaps in her sad and complacent gaze.

Without thinking twice, furious, with my daughter in my arms, I went out to look for her. It was a dark night and the snow didn't stop falling. I called out to her, I threatened her, but it was too late.

On the snowy ground there were footprints, her footprints. Desperate, I followed them, followed them until... they disappeared, they disappeared at the edge of a cliff.

Surely that stupid girl didn't know how dangerous my land was, how dangerous it was to go out at night in the middle of a blizzard.

She would never come back, she abandoned me forever, she abandoned us.

I might have thought that I had the consolation of still having my daughter, that my baby hadn't fallen into the void with her mother, but I didn't see it that way. My soul was broken in two, my heart was crushed mercilessly. That girl left me alone with my daughter, that girl never loved me.

I don't know what I would have done if I didn't have my daughter in my arms, I don't know what the consequences would have been. I spent days complaining, even though I barely had time. I was left alone, my daughter too. Helga abandoned me, but Maria was still with me. She was a newborn baby, she needed me.

Pain, suffering... at first that was what I felt when I had to take care of my daughter alone. I never knew how to do it well. I was overwhelmed several times, desperate. Then I realized what I had to do, my responsibility. I had to take care of my little girl; it didn't matter if I had to do it by myself. I had no other option.

Luckily, I managed to get used to the situation, and move on.

The years went by and my little Maria grew up, perhaps faster than I would have liked. She was a girl... well, a bit strange girl. Physically she was exactly like me, but... her personality was not similar at all.

Maria was intelligent, extremely intelligent. She was a happy, funny, outgoing and obedient child. I like to think that I was a good mother to her, although that wasn't the case.

From a very young age she had to put up with my madness. Dealing with a sick mother like me, without having anyone else (apart from Angie, of course), must have been hard for her, but she never showed it.

Eight years after that fateful night, my daughter and I lived peacefully. She knew me and understood me, and I loved her madly.

I knocked on the girl's bedroom door slowly, as it was a reasonable hour to sleep.

“Come in,” my daughter said, in a sweet voice, as always.

“Maria, it's time to sleep,” I said softly.

The girl, lying in bed, looked at me over the book she was reading with Angie, and made a gesture of silence. I couldn't help but smile and obeyed her request, slowly approaching and sitting on the mattress.

“Cinque minuti,” she whispered in an intriguing voice, turning a page. “Mamma, they've killed Dumbledore…”

“Oh,” I sighed with a tender smile, watching Maria devour the book.

“I told you Snape was a traitor from the start! I told you!” Angie shrieked, pointing at the book with her wooden hand.

“Angie, don't shout,” I told the doll, who relaxed her attitude.

“It's true, you were right, Angie,” Maria said, nodding to the doll, who laughed in satisfaction.

The little girl closed the book with a sigh of suspense and left it on the table, passing a hand over her forehead.

“Wow... it was interesting,” she said, letting me get a little closer and cover her with the sheets. “I can't wait to see what happens,” she said rubbing her hands.

“Mm,” I murmured with my eyebrow raised, arranging my daughter's hair, a gesture she liked less and less.

“Mamma…” she protested amused. “I'm not a child anymore.”

“Aren’t you? So, what are you?” I asked with the same mocking tone.

“Mm…” she murmured thoughtfully, looking at the ceiling. “An impending pre-teenager.”

I laughed, shaking my head at my daughter's bold responses. I definitely don't know where she got that audacity from. It couldn't be from me… maybe from Angie?

“Excuse me, my impending teenager,” I joked, making sure the girl was well protected from the cold.

“Um, mamma…” Maria murmured nervously, attracting my attention, when I was about to leave. “Can I talk to you?”

“Va bene,” I answered frowning and sitting back down. “What's wrong, tesoro?”

“I was just wondering…” she said, without looking at me directly, thoughtful. “Mamma… Who was my mother?”

The smile immediately faded from my face and memories appeared to haunt my wounded mind. I had to make a great effort to control my nerves. I didn't want to lose my mind in front of my daughter, not again.

“Maria, what's that question about?” I said nervously, with a cold tone.

“Well…” Maria said, sitting on the bed while scratching the back of her neck. “I have a good memory. I remember I asked you when I was… I think I was 4 years old. You told me I was too young to know.”

“Mm, certo,” I said blinking erratically.

“But I'm not so young anymore,” my daughter said, with an expectant look. “Per favore, mamma, tell me what she was like,”

I sighed, undecided, but motivated by her bright eyes, identical to mine.

“W-Well… y-you…” I stammered, trying hard not to let my voice get stuck, something complicated. “Your mother was… her name was Helga and… she was my maid.”

The girl nodded curiously, barely blinking.

“She was very beautiful,” I whispered, remembering that treacherous look.

“What happened to her?” she asked impatiently.

“Um… she left, she abandoned us shortly after you were born,” I said, knowing there was no point in lying to her. That girl was devilishly smart, she would find out sooner or later.

“She left you alone with a baby? Wow, she wasn't a good person then,” the girl whispered. “Do you think I'll ever get to meet her?”

“No, I'm afraid… she's gone,” I murmured, shaking my head and holding back a tear.

“Oh, well… thanks for telling me,” Maria said with an indifferent voice, opening the drawer of her nightstand and taking out a paper and a pen. “Yes, it’s progressing…”

“Mm?” I murmured curiously, trying to see what was on that sheet of paper, on which Maria seemed to cross something out. “Cos’è questo, Maria?” I asked, tilting my head to try to make out something.

“Questo?” she said, showing me the paper. I nodded slowly, studying those phrases that were written on it. “Oh, it’s nothing… just a wish list.”

“A wish list?” I asked curious and amused, trying to bury the memory of her mother, so her words wouldn’t penetrate my mind, and destroy it again.

“Well, I'm already 8,” she explained with that knowing tone I adored. “Soon I'll reach adolescence and lose my mind, you know, hormones…” she said with a passive voice and an amused gesture. “Before that happens and my head starts to think about stupid boys, I would like to do some things.”

“Mm, you're cautious,” I commented, surprised, as always, by her intelligence. “Can I take a look?” I asked, extending a hand towards the paper, paper that Maria handed me, nodding and shrugging.

Yes, it was a list, the wish list of an eight-year-old girl. Some things were crossed out, the most recent was:

Meet my mother

I sighed somewhat sadly knowing that she would never do it, but I continued reading, hoping to distract myself enough with the girl thoughts and ambitions.

“Maria…” I whispered, looking at the girl with a frown and pointing at one of the phrases. “To have a sibling?” I asked with a trembling voice.

“Yes,” my girl nodded, with an innocent smile. “I think it would be really cool to have one,” she said without caring about the impossibility that it entailed. “Don't be offended, Angie.”

“More minions? I like how it sounds,” the doll said, with an amused gesture.

“I'm afraid that wish is impossible, tesoro,” I said with a low voice, with a sad look.

I could never, ever fall in love again, not after what happened the first time I did.

“No, it's not impossible,” Maria protested, leaning towards me and reading her phrases. “Look, mamma, if this one here comes true, it would be possible.”

I looked at where her finger was pointing, and I didn't know whether to laugh or to cry in despair.

Mamma stops being alone

I read it several times, glancing at the girl and hiding the trembling in my hands.

“Maria…”  I sighed, running a hand through my hair. “Y-You should think of another wish.”

“No, they are my wishes, you can't influence them,” the girl said, crossing her arms. “You just have to read them, not judge them.”

“Va bene, you're right,” I said, briefly pinching her cheek, something that made her laugh embarrassedly. “Mm, learn to play the piano?” I asked, reading more of her wishes. “Do you want to learn to play the piano?”

“Oh, yes, do you remember the day we went to see Aunt Alcina at the castle?” she asked, coming closer, she seemed excited.

“Yes, of course I remember,” I answered, looking at my daughter curiously. “You mean the maid who played you a birthday song, right?”

“Well…” the girl sighed, rolling her eyes. “The song was childish and squeaky, but the sound of that piano… it was beautiful, so I decided to learn… but… we don't have a piano,” she said in a much lower voice, looking away, as she always did when she wanted to ask me for something.

“Actually we have one in the basement,” I said. “You could learn on it.”

“Mamma, that's not exactly a piano,” my daughter said in an innocent tone, biting her lip. “I want a real one, a piano as cool as the one in the castle.”

“You want a piano,” I murmured, arching my eyebrow. “Do you want me to buy a piano, Maria? Is that what you're trying to ask me?”

“Well… I wouldn't say no if you do,” she said amused, with her eyes wide open. “I know my birthday has passed and…”

“Cut the crap,” I said amused, shaking my head. “Well… I guess it’s something much more feasible than some of your wishes.”

“Does that mean you’ll do it? Will you buy me a piano?” the girl asked, standing up on the bed, excited again.

I looked at her tenderly and thought for a moment. I could never deny my little girl anything, I never would.

“If you behave,” I said amused, pointing at her with my finger before she jumped into my arms.

“Great! Grazie di cuore, mamma, you’re the best, the best!” Maria yelled enthusiastically, wrapping her arms around me and giving me a tender hug that I always appreciated, that told me I would never be alone, I would always have my daughter.

“Okay, okay, tesoro,” I said, overwhelmed by her affectionate kisses, gently patting her back. “But you’ll have to be consistent and learn to play wonderfully, mm?”

“Certo, I have to read more books,” my daughter said, moving away and letting herself fall on the bed, with a hand on her chin, thoughtful. “Now go, I have to think,” she said with a concentrated expression. “Where could we put it, Angie?”

“Well, you better go to sleep,” I said, laughing tenderly, giving her a kiss on the forehead and looking at the doll coldly, telling Angie with my eyes not to bother Maria and let her rest, something almost impossible.

“Mamma,” Maria called me, before I went out the door. “Ti voglio bene”

“Anch’io, tesoro… Anch’io…” I whispered, closing the door slowly.

Maria was not a capricious child, even though I always did whatever she wants to see her happy. I will always be surprised by her ability to educate practically by herself, taking advantage of my absences, my crises, to fill her mind with knowledge.

Sometimes I regretted having had a maid, but I changed my mind when I saw my little girl. She was the most important thing to me, and that would always be the case.

If Maria wanted a piano, she would have a piano, without a doubt.

The next day I took advantage of the Duke's weekly visit to make the request. I still find it hard to believe how different Maria is, how little she resembles my withdrawn and shy personality…

“Hello, Duke,” Maria said, waving her hand politely with a mocking smile.

I was standing next to her, with my face covered with the veil and the Angie doll in my arms. No matter how well that horrible man treated my little girl, I never trusted him.

“Miss Beneviento, you look well,” the merchant murmured, handing me the things I needed for the week. “Lady Beneviento…”

“Hi, fatty,” Angie said, moving in my arms. “How are you?”

“Great,” he replied, counting the coins I threw at him in an unpleasant manner. “What do you say, Miss? Did you manage to solve last week's riddle?” he asked, looking at my daughter with a sinister smile.

“Of course,” the girl answered, with a smug smile. “The answer is the Sun,” she said, lifting her chin. “Although… there was something wrong with the riddle. Yes, normally the sun rises and sets, but… did you know that there are certain areas of the world where it doesn't rise or set for several months?”

“Oh, I guess I forgot that detail,” the man said, laughing amused at the girl's words. “You got it right again…”

“As always,” Maria said, making a gesture to play it down.

“Come on, we want to see that chocolate bar,” Angie demanded, climbing into Maria's arms while I watched in silence.

“Here you go, Miss…” the Duke sighed amusedly tossing a sweet to the girl, one that she caught gracefully. “I hope I don't make it so easy for you next time.”

“Grazie,” the kid said, kindly. “Mamma, tell him, tell him,” she said, tugging at my dress, somewhat impatiently.

I looked at her and gestured for Angie to come closer.

“That's it, Duke, we want a piano,” I said, speaking through the doll.

“A piano?” the man asked, taking out a small notebook.

“Yes, yes, a piano,” Maria said, jumping on the ground. “I'm going to learn to play it.”

“Oh, that's wonderful, Miss, music is the voice of the soul,” the Duke said, writing something down. “Is an upright piano okay?”

I looked at my daughter, who did the same, nodding.

“Yes, okay,” she said, smiling with satisfaction.

“For your sake, fatso, fatso, I hope you don't fool us,” Angie said, climbing up the carriage and looking at the merchant in a menacing manner. “A nice piano for Maria, is that clear?”

“Like water, Miss Angie,” he said, amused, gesturing for the doll to move away. “Tell me, how do you plan to learn?”

“Well... By myself, I guess, Donna doesn’t know to play it,” my daughter said, making me look at her embarrassed. “Don't be offended, mamma.”

“I see,” the Duke said, looking at me with a mocking smile. “It turns out that I know someone. There is a girl in the village who is an excellent pianist, perhaps, Lady Beneviento, it would be good for your daughter if she gave the little Miss some lessons.”

“A piano teacher?” Maria asked, while I pondered the offer. “That would be great, mamma, say yes, say yes…”

“I don't know, tesoro… I don't like people coming to the house,” I murmured, putting myself at the height of the girl, who made a sad gesture.

“Please…” my daughter begged, putting her hands together.

“Please, please…” Angie said, imitating her gesture.

“Ugh,” I sighed, looking at the Duke, who was impatiently waiting for my answer.

“Well? I promise you won't regret it, my lady,” the merchant said, studying my movements. “I'm convinced that she will get along very well with your offspring.”

“Oh, I…” I muttered, gesturing to Angie, giving up. “Okay,” the doll said, speaking in my voice.

After a few days, the piano arrived at the mansion and, with the unpleasant help of some lycans, I managed to find a suitable place for it. Maria was very excited, but I, not so much. The idea of ​​a gossipy villager entering my house… talking to my little girl… I didn't like it, but just seeing Maria's shining eyes, I got used to it.

“Here she is!” the girl shrieked, running towards the door, which someone had knocked on. It was that disgusting teacher, no doubt. “Vai, mamma!”

“I'm coming,” I said in a whisper, putting on my veil and approaching the door, opening it slowly.

I was expecting to find an old woman, a petulant old woman who was no longer in her prime, but I was petrified. Behind the door, there was a rather young woman, smiling and… beautiful, terribly beautiful.

“H-Hello,” the young woman said, waking me from a reverie. I wasn’t expecting someone like that. “It’s an honor to meet you, Lady Beneviento.”

“Are you the teacher?” Angie asked, speaking for me, uncomfortably studying the girl, who seemed scared by her presence. I don’t blame her.

“Yes, my name is (Y/N),” she said, extending her hand towards me, a hand that I briefly looked at, but didn’t shake, making her withdraw it awkwardly. “Um… well… so you want to learn to play the piano, right?”

“No,” I said with my hoarse voice, while my daughter came out from behind me, looking with the same surprise as me at that girl. “Not me.”

“Hello,” Maria said, with an elegant gesture. “I'm Maria Beneviento, and I'm your new student,” she said with an amused smile, shaking her hand, something I couldn't do.

“Oh, wow, I didn't know that... that it was you,” the young woman said, looking at me and then at the girl, making a small, friendly bow “I thought I was going to teach you, Lady Beneviento.”

“No, my mother doesn't have a clue about music, she only knows how to make dolls,” the girl said, amused, causing me to give her a gentle slap on the shoulder as a reprimand. “Oh, but she makes them very well, I promise.”

“Your mother? You mean...? Are you her daughter?” the pianist asked, looking at me with a frown and a bewildered expression.

“Yes, of course,” the little girl said, guiding the visitor through the house. “Don't you see how much we look alike?” she asked, pointing to the portrait on the stairs.

“Oh, um… is that you?” (Y/N) asked, looking at me and pointing at the portrait. I didn't move, nor did I say a single word, obviously. “W-Wow, your really look alike, you're like two peas in a pod.”

“Isn't that right?” Maria laughed, taking the stranger's hand and leading her into the living room. “This way, (Y/N)”

“I-It's funny. I didn’t know you had a daughter, my lady,” the young woman said, walking towards the piano next to my little girl, looking at me out of the corner of her eye, distrustful.

“Mm,” I murmured, not giving importance to her comment, approaching Maria. “Tesoro, I'm going to the workshop, Angie will stay with you, if something happens…”

“Mamma… non preocuparti,” Maria said, sitting on the stool in front of the piano, next to that unknown girl.

“Va bene,” I whispered, giving one last look to the young woman, who did the same quickly. I could see the fear in her eyes.

Reluctant, but with no other choice, I left them alone.

It must have been an entertaining afternoon, since Angie didn't warn me of any danger, but she did when that girl was about to leave.

“Grazie, (Y/N), see you tomorrow,” Maria said, waving her hand goodbye, while I, suspicious, walked with the young woman to the door.

“Your daughter is very talented, my lady,” (Y/N) commented, before leaving through the door.

“Mm,” I murmured in an impatient tone, wishing she would leave at once.

“Well, she has to practice, but I think she can be a great pianist if she puts her mind to it,” the young woman said, with no intention of leaving. “It's unbelievable that she's just eight years old, she's very intelligent.”

“I know that already,” I whispered impatiently, handing her a bag of coins.

“Oh, um, thanks,” she said, putting them in her purse. “I was surprised that you had a daughter… well, in the village we never…”

“I know,” I cut her words off abruptly, with a tired sigh. “No one has to know about my life.”

“Yes, well, I understand,” she said, scratching the back of her neck. “Forgive my indiscretion, I know it's none of my business but… What about her father?”

The Angie doll, who was listening next to me, began to laugh outrageously, drawing our attention.

“Stupid,” Angie said, pointing at the girl with her finger and pretending to laugh loudly. “You're so stupid… Donna is Maria's mother, get it? She's her mother, she impregnated a maid and…”

“Angie…” I hissed nervously.

“What?” the pianist asked, looking at me and speaking in a small voice when she realized her mistake.

I, nervous and embarrassed, clenched my fists tightly on both sides of my hips.

“Oh, shit, I mean… I understand, oh, I… w-well, I had heard rumors but they seemed… I mean, it's okay, well, there's a huge woman, a fish man… it's not that I find it strange or anything like that, I mean…” she said nervously, not knowing where to run.

I crossed my arms furiously, wanting to make her live the worst of her nightmares, but then I thought of Maria and I restrained myself.

“Shut up,” I demanded with a firm tone. “I advise you to stop sticking your nose where it doesn't belong,” I threatened walking a step towards her, making the girl back off.

“I'm sorry. It's just that…” she said, visibly nervous, refusing to look at my face.

“Does my Donna's penis disgust you, silly?” Angie said, making me burn with rage.

“Angie! Taci, taci, taci!” I screamed furiously, kicking the floor. The piano played in the background, Maria was oblivious to the conversation, fortunately.

“What? Oh, no, no, not at all… I have no problem with that,” the pianist said, putting her hands in a position of surrender. “B-besides, I'm just your daughter's piano teacher, I have no intention of snooping in your… business. I was just… I was just curious.”

“Curiosity…” I began in a dark tone, making it clear to that stupid village girl what her place was.

“Killed the cat, I know,” she finished, with a nervous smile. “I just want to say that, well, that… your daughter is great.”

“Mm,” I growled, looking away and closing the door in her face. “Cazzo, Angie…”

The doll, realizing that she had given too much information, ran off towards Maria, who was playing the keys, surely putting into practice what she had learned.

“Look, mamma, I know the scale,” the girl said, gesturing for me to come closer as she softly played the piano.

“Meraviglioso, Maria,” I sighed, relaxing with the soft sound of the instrument.

“So… what do you think?” my daughter murmured, looking at the floor. “About (Y/N).”

“(Y/N)?” I asked annoyed, sighing as I took off my veil. “She's just some ordinary village girl.”

“No, not at all. She's great, she's super smart, and she plays really well, and she's also really beautiful, don't you think, mamma?” Maria said, following me through the mansion.

“Mm, maybe she is,” I commented distractedly. She was right, that girl was very beautiful… but a nuisance too. “Your lessons, Maria, don't forget them,” I said in a motherly tone, pointing to her study books.

The visits from that unpleasant girl continued. Maria learned a lot from (Y/N), although I didn't like to admit it. Little by little I got used to the presence of that nosy villager, maybe too much, since, from time to time, I came up from the workshop to see how she taught my daughter.

They seemed to get along really well, and every day her beauty was much more evident to me, but I didn't give it any importance, she was still an idiot.

“That's it, you learn very quickly Maria,” (Y/N) said as I approached slowly. “It's noticeable that you practice a lot.”

“Of course I do, so I don't forget,” the little girl said, swinging her legs on the stool.

“Um, Maria… I'd like to ask you something,” the teacher whispered, looking around, probably afraid that I would appear.

That made me back off and hide in the shadows. I wanted to hear what that stupid girl was saying about me, I was sure she would say something about me.

“Va bene,” my daughter said, distracted, touching the keys.

“Hey, your mother…” the young woman murmured, attracting my attention even more. “Your mother is a bit scary, isn't she?”

“Mamma Donna?” Maria asked and shook her head. “Not at all, are you scared of my mamma?”

“Um, well,” the girl said, with a nervous smile. “She's a Lord and… well, in the village everyone fears her.”

“Bah, nonsense,” my daughter said, gesturing with her hand. “That's because they don't know her. Donna is nice.”

“Really? Does she take good care of you?” she asked in a more confident tone, something that made me burn with rage.

How could that stupid woman question my way of taking care of my daughter?

“Oh, yes, she is very intelligent, she teaches me many things,” Maria said, making me sigh with relief.

“Um… what about your other mother? Don't you miss her?” (Y/N) asked, making me want to end her existence.

“Not really,” the girl said, lowering her head. “I never got to know her. Mamma Donna told me that she was her maid and that she… abandoned us.”

“Chiudi il becco…” I muttered in a whisper. “Maledizione…”

“Gods, that’s… horrible,” the young woman said, changing her expression.

“Well, it's the past. Donna took care of me and raised me by herself, and I assure you that it must not be easy to do that, and even more so with a daughter like me,” Maria said amused. “I don't usually give her any trouble, but… she has to put up with me.”

“Mm, I see,” (Y/N) said, tenderly stroking Maria's hair. “I see that I was wrong about her, I'm sorry for doubting your mother.”

“It doesn't matter,” Maria said, putting on a strange expression. “People say horrible things about her, but I know they're lies. My mamma is mentally ill, but that doesn't mean she's not a good person, she really is.”

“Yes, I see,” the pianist said, looking back, without seeing me. “If you say so, I believe you…”

“Forgive her if she was abrupt with you,” my daughter said, apologizing for my aggressive attitude. “She's just very lonely. I'm convinced that her character will improve when she meets someone.”

“Mm, maybe, but being alone isn't that bad, you know? I am too,” the young woman said.

“Oh, really?” the little girl asked. “That's interesting…” she murmured, with a tone that forced me to intervene. “Wouldn't you like to meet someone?”

“Well, I…”

“Ahem,” I cleared my throat, walking nervously towards them. (Y/N) looked at me briefly, immediately lowering her head. “It's time, isn't it?”

“Mm, sì, mamma,” Maria said, getting off the stool.

The young pianist stood up with a friendly gesture.

“Your daughter has been great, as always, my lady,” the young woman said, not daring to look at me. “It's a pleasure to teach her.”

“You don't have to be that formal. You can call her Donna, vero, mamma? Maria said, with a slightly strange voice.

“I guess,” I said reluctantly, making the girl laugh nervously.

“W-Well, Donna then,” (Y/N) whispered, with a shy laugh.

“Mamma, do you know that (Y/N) is also alone? What a coincidence, huh?” the girl asked, comically tugging at my dress, putting the stupid villager in a tight spot.

“Maria,” I said in a dark voice. I didn't know why, but that comment made me blush.

“Don't worry, Donna, your daughter is adorable, she just says what she thinks,” the young woman said, picking up the scores.

“Ma, mamma, are you going to let her go?” Maria insisted, making me very nervous. “You should be nice and invite her to tea. She’s been coming here for almost a month.”

“Maria…” I hissed nervously, while (Y/N) laughed again, shaking her head. “Stop annoying her, I’m sure she’ll have better things to do.”

“T-Truth be told,” the pianist said, arching her eyebrows. “I could use some tea, if it’s not too much trouble.”

“Ugh, okay,” I muttered, threatening with my daughter my gaze making her fled with Angie.

That was the beginning of a strange routine. After piano lessons, (Y/N) started to stay with us for a while, having tea, helping Maria with her homework…

Over time, I couldn't say that that stupid girl started to catch my attention, but I did stop thinking that she was... well, stupid. She was a kind, funny girl, who made Maria and Angie laugh, and she was kind to me, kinder than anyone ever was, no one, not even Helga.

I couldn't help but notice a certain conspiracy in my little girl's words and actions, hinting several times at how lonely her poor mother was when I wasn't around, or telling me directly that (Y/N) was single too.

I couldn't blame her for wanting to have what she never had, for wanting another mother, but... it was simply impossible, it would never be possible, although deep down, that pianist girl caught my attention more than I would like to admit.

“Well, I better go, thank you very much for the tea, Donna,” (Y/N) said, after an afternoon of games with Angie and the girl, something of which I was only a spectator. “See you tomorrow, huh, girls?” she said amused, high-fiving Maria and Angie.

“Hey, but it's really late,” my daughter commented, looking out the window. “Hey, (Y/N), why don't you stay for dinner?”

“Oh, for dinner?” the young woman asked blinking and looking for an answer in me. “W-well, I…”

“Don't listen to her,” I said quickly, putting a warning hand on Maria's shoulder.

“Mamma,” the little girl protested, breaking away from my grip while (Y/N) smiled, picking up her coat. “I'm trying to help you.”

“Who asked you for help, brat? Basta,” I hissed sternly but nervously.

“Well… it's true that it's late,” (Y/N) said, oblivious to my reprimands, looking at me shyly. “Maybe it's not a bad idea.”

“Of course it’s not,” Maria said, freeing from my reprimand and taking the young pianist by the hand. “Come, sit down, did you know that la mia mamma cooks like an angel? You'll see.”

“Maria!” I growled, clenching my fists. “What are you...?”

“Show her that what I say is true, vai, Donna,” my daughter said, pushing me by the legs.

I had no choice but to obey, going down to the kitchen to prepare that improvised dinner.

“Mm, where's Maria?” I asked dryly, leaving the food on the table, a table that was only occupied by (Y/N), who looked at me amused, shrugging.

“She told me that she wasn’t hungry and she wanted to leave us alone, you know, so that we could talk about adult stuff.”

“Oh, questa bambina…” I lamented, understanding her intentions.

“I think she's set us up, hasn't she?” the young woman joked, while I, exhausted, served her some wine.

“I'm sorry, I don't know what she was thinking,” I said, apologizing for Maria's behavior. Oh, yes, that girl would get a deserved scolding.

“It doesn't matter, it might be good to get to know each other a bit better,” (Y/N) commented. “Um…” she said, frowning as she saw how, clumsily, I handled my black veil to eat. “Um… Donna, that's not necessary. You don't need it, you can trust me.”

“You'll get scared,” I said nervously, paralyzed.

“No, I won't,” she said, with a lower voice, somewhat trembling.

It was absurd to continue with that nonsense, the best thing would be to scare that stupid girl away so she never came back and stopped… constantly sneaking into my thoughts. With a slow gesture I took off my veil, refusing to see her expression.

“Mm, wow…” the young woman sighed, with a smile that I couldn't interpret. “It's true, you two are exactly the same.”

“Don't pretend. You know I'm horrible,” I said, gripping the fork tightly.

“No, you're not… Let's see… what have you prepared for me?” the girl said, ignoring my hisses and taking a look at the dinner. “Everything looks great.”

“Pici all'amatriciana,” I murmured distrustfully.

“Oh, well, let's check if it's as good as it looks,” she said, rubbing her hands and starting to eat, without erasing that smile from her face.

At first it was a tense, silent dinner, only interrupted by (Y/N)'s praises. Everything seemed wonderful and perfect to her, even… even my face. Little by little, I suppose thanks to the wine, the conversation began to flow naturally. It seemed unlikely, but that girl and I had a lot in common and we even… we even laughed, laughed a lot.

I realized why Maria was so obsessed with her. She was a wonderful girl, kind, funny… and terribly beautiful too.

“I had a great time,” the young woman said with a tender smile as I walked with her to the door. “Really.”

“Yes, um… me too, (Y/N),” I said in a low voice, with a strange blush on my cheeks.

“You know what? I think I now understand your daughter’s insistence on me getting to know you,” she commented distractedly, looking at the floor, turning her ankle on it. “You are a very special woman, Donna.”

“Yes, special is the word,” I said suspiciously, crossing my arms.

The girl laughed, shaking her head and putting a hand on my arm.

“No, what I mean is that… well, I don't regret having gotten to know you,” she whispered in a low voice, leaving behind her words, an awkward moment of silence.

“M-Me neither,” I stammered unintentionally, smiling genuinely.

“See you,” the girl said, removing her hand from my arm with a tender smile, suddenly stepping back. “Oh, bye girls,” she said, waving her hand and looking upstairs, where Angie and Maria were discreetly spying.

“Ciao!” they said in unison when I closed the door, sighing and glancing sideways at my daughter and the doll.

“Cazzo…” I hissed, quickly climbing the stairs while those two mischievous girls fled to their room. “Hey, you two!”

“Oh, mamma, I was going to sleep,” Maria said, putting on her pajamas in a hurry.

“No, young lady, what were you thinking?” I asked, annoyed by the trick, with my hands on my hips. “Who taught you to conspire like that?”

“Um…” the girl murmured, looking unintentionally at Angie, who hid under the sheets. “I only did it for you, mamma, so that you are not alone anymore.”

“Oh, cavolo…” I lamented, with a hand on my forehead. “Maria, tesoro, you don't have to decide those things for me, do you hear me? They are adults’ matters.”

“I know but… I think you two get along wonderfully,” the girl said with an almost pleading voice. “And you two are alone…”

“Maria…”

“Besides, dinner was a complete success, you even took off your veil,” she said with an amused smile, climbing into bed while I reluctantly tucked her in. “Although you have to improve your conversation, you're very clumsy, mamma.”

“That I’m…?” I asked, feigning offense. “Well, it doesn't matter.”

“Don't you like (Y/N)? Not even a little?” Maria asked in a sleepy voice, rubbing her eyes.

“Um, I… W-Well I… yes, I like her,” I admitted embarrassed, with a sob. “But tesoro, that's not…”

“She likes you, she speaks very well of you,” she sighed, exhausted, closing her eyes. “Mamma.”

“Mm?”

“If I could go back in time and choose… I would like (Y/N) to be my other mother…” she said in a sleepy whisper, without really being aware she had said it.

I sighed, moved by her words and approached to kiss her on the forehead, thoughtful.

“Mm, I'm not surprised that you want it, tesoro... (Y/N) is... wonderful.”

Admitting that I had feelings for (Y/N) took me longer than I thought, but I couldn't help it. Without wanting to, knowing that there would never be another chance to feel love, to believe in it, I did it, I fell in love with her, madly.

Dinners were common, laughter, too. Sometimes we were alone and sometimes Angie and Maria accompanied us, making the laughter increase more and more. I began to wish for those visits, to get sad when that girl left. There was tension between us, I could notice it, I could notice her bright gaze in mine, silent pauses in which neither of us knew what to say.

Too much pressure and I was too much of a coward.

“You have to do it, mamma,” my little girl told me, while I waited for (Y/N) to arrive, walking around the living room and shaking my head.

“I can't do it…” I sighed, rejecting her proposition again.

“If you don't tell (Y/N) how you feel about her, she'll never know, imagine if she meets someone,” the girl said walking exactly like me.

“It's not that easy, Maria, you'll realize when you're older,” I said in a dark, nervous voice.

“I don't want to lose the opportunity to have another mom just because you're a coward!” the girl protested, nervous, impatient.

I turned around abruptly, gritting my teeth and crouching down next to my daughter, grabbing her by the collar of her dress.

“You think I don't know!? Huh?” I screamed furiously while my daughter, scared, covered herself with her hands.

“Mamma,” she said trembling, making me react.

“Gods… tesoro, I'm sorry,” I said, placing her dress and caressing her cheek.

Maria nodded slowly, comforting my nerves with a tender hug.

“I don't know how to do it, I don't know how to tell her that… that I love her,” I murmured, with the girl's warm hands in mine, controlling my madness.

“Calm down, mamma, I'll think of something,” she said, giving me a kiss on the cheek and going to the door, since (Y/N) had already arrived.

The smiles danced between us again. I had long since gotten used to staying in the living room while (Y/N) taught Maria, to watch her fingers caress the keys, to see her beautiful and tender face, the incredibly sweet way she treated my baby…

“Well, very well, mate,” (Y/N )said when Maria showed her what she had learned. “I think we can move on to something more complicated.”

“Yeah, hey, (Y/N),” Maria said, glancing at me out of the corner of her eye. “I thought… I've never heard you play… you know, a whole song. I'm sure my mamma would really like to hear you.”

“Would her?” the young woman asked, looking at me with blushing cheeks.

I looked at her and nodded slowly, tilting my head.

“Mm, okay, well… let me see…” the girl said, searching through her folder of music. “Let's see… Oh, what do you think of this one? It has your name on it,” (Y/N) said, handing a sheet to my daughter, who looked at it carefully.

“Oh, yeah, this one is perfect,” Maria said with wide eyes, looking at me over the paper with a knowing smile.

“Ahem, well…” (Y/N) coughed as Maria stood up to sit next to me.

“Di niente,” my daughter whispered with a discreet clearing of the throat, making me frown.

“Cosa?” I asked, silenced by a nudge.

“Shh… ascolta, mamma.”

The music started to play, and I recognized it immediately.

“Ave Maria…”  (Y/N) began to sing, letting me discover her beautiful voice, the most beautiful I had ever heard. “Gratia plena… Ave, ave Dominus…”

My mind immediately transported itself to several decades ago, before Mother Miranda, before the Black Gods, when I was just a girl, a tormented girl. Yes, I remembered those times when villagers were allowed to profess the faith they chose as long as they lived with the dark deities.

They were difficult times, but nothing compared to my current life.

I remember my family singing that song at Christmas, on special occasions. My mother, my father, my little sister, my grandparents… all of us together, like a vision of what once was and never came back.

I couldn't help but let a tear run down my face as I remembered, as I imagined what would have become of me if Miranda had never been so ambitious, if my life hadn't changed, if my body hadn't changed and Maria had never been born.

No, Maria wasn't a mistake, she was the best thing that ever happened to me, my little laughing baby who wondered where her mother was, what had happened to her.

I regret many things, my little Maria, but not having you as a daughter.

I remembered those sleepless nights with inconsolable cries, I remember losing my nerves, my mind, and I remembered… I remembered how I rocked my little Maria, how I sang to her to make her fall asleep in my arms, how I sang that song to her, that Ave Maria, by Schubert…

Damn clever girl, she knew it, she knew that the melody, those words in Latin would touch my soul. I'm proud of you, tesoro.

Slowly, unable to move voluntarily, I got up from the couch while (Y/N) played and sang, approaching her, sitting next to her on the stool. She looked at me, still singing, but smiling.

I looked at the keys, bringing my hand closer to them and looking for a sign to continue. The young woman nodded, with a tender smile.

“Nunc et in hora mortis…” we sang at the same time while playing the keys. It had been a long time since I had done it. “Et in hora mortis nostrae… Ave… Maria…”

“Great!” Maria said, clapping enthusiastically along with Angie.

I paid no attention to her, my eye were fixed on (Y/N)'s and hers on mine.

“Wow, Maria told me you didn't know how to play it,” she whispered after a tense moment, without moving from my uncomfortable proximity.

“W-Well, I don't know as much as you… I'm quite rusty,” I said with a honeyed, but nervous voice.

“Angie, let's go,” Maria said, looking at me and winking, taking the doll's hand that was protesting in a childish way.

“I-I used to sing this to Maria as a lullaby,” I said, daring to break that silence. “It brings back memories to me.”

“It must have been very difficult to raise a girl on your own, right?” (Y/N) commented, playing nervously with her hands.

“Yes, it was but… it was worth it,” I said with a smile, looking at the corner where Maria ran off to.

“Yes, of course, she's an amazing girl, Donna,” the young woman said, looking away.

“Yes, I… (Y/N) I…” I stammered, with a cold sweat running down my forehead, hitting the keys unintentionally. “I'm sorry, I… I want to tell you that… when you're here I… I feel, I feel like smiling again, and seeing you leave… It makes me sad.”

The girl laughed embarrassed, lowering her gaze but letting me continue and gain enough courage to extend my trembling hand to hers, which she let me do, interlacing our fingers.

“I would understand if you said no but… I don't know, (Y/N), maybe… maybe you'd like… not to leave again.”

“Mamma! Don't tell her that! It's creepy!” Maria, who was, of course, spying, shrieked.

“Oddio… go to your room!” I shrieked nervously without taking my hand off (Y/N)'s.

“Donna,” the pianist said, putting a hand on my cheek, turning my face towards hers. “Do you want me to stay? With you?”

“I… yes…” I said looking down, something I couldn't really do, since her hand prevented me from doing so. “I want you to stay… with me, with us and…”

I couldn't continue speaking, since her lips collided with mine without warning, kissing me deeply, slowly, in a sweet and addictive way.

Without wanting to do so, I pulled away, blinking confused, looking at her sweet smile, her eyes shining as she looked at me.

“I'm in love with you, (Y/N),” I finally confessed, throwing myself back into her slow, wet kisses, into her laughter that bounced off my lips, tickling them.

“You're a wonderful woman, Donna Beneviento,” (Y/N) whispered. “I'm crazy about you… And… well, I wouldn't mind staying with you. Well, I would like that you and Maria… were my family…”

“Really?”

“Really”

“Great!” Maria shrieked, running into (Y/N)'s arms, catching her off guard. “See, mamma? It wasn't that hard.”

“Oh, taci,” I said amused, shaking my head.

“It's the happiest day of my life,” my daughter said, hugging us both. “I love you!”

“Hey, come on, stop bothering,” I said, lowering her to the floor lovingly.

“Certo... I have to talk to Angie... my little sibling is getting closer...”

[cmdrfupa]

Birthday Girl

Shoko x Fem!Reader

The first gentle beams of late-morning sunlight stretched across the room, spilling over the half-drawn curtains and landing softly on Shoko’s face. She blinked, wincing at the light before rolling over with a groggy sigh. You laid beside her, reading through the morning news. You heard her groans and watched her come to life with a soft, amused smile.

“Happy birthday, sunshine,” you murmured, brushing a stray lock of hair off Shoko’s forehead.

Shoko squinted up at you, still half-asleep. “Feels the same as yesterday,” she muttered, her voice thick and low with sleep.

“Well, that’s the beauty of aging gracefully, isn’t it?” You teased, leaning in to plant a kiss on her forehead. Shoko gave a small, drowsy smile, her hand coming up to rest on yours.

“Mmm, I’ll take gracefully over anything dramatic,” she replied, sliding her arms around your waist and pulling you closer. “But you’re really gonna stay in bed all day and flatter me? Or are you plotting something?”

You tilted your head thoughtfully. “Who says I can’t do both?”

Shoko laughed, low and soft, then tugged you closer. “I knew you had an ulterior motive.”

“Maybe I just wanted to spoil you,” you replied swiftly, tone half-serious, half-teasing. You brushed your fingers through Shoko’s hair, letting the comfortable silence fill the air for a moment. “Besides, it’s your birthday. I thought maybe you’d want a change from… I don’t know, the usual?”

“Oh?” Shoko raised an eyebrow, amusement dancing in her dark eyes. “And what exactly is ‘the usual’ to you?”

You made a thoughtful face. “Well, we could start with your usual breakfast of reheated coffee, fresh cigarette and a banana on the go. A real celebration of elegance.”

“Hey,” Shoko protested, pretending to look offended. “That banana is a staple. And I’d like to see you pull an all-nighter and still make time for breakfast.” But there was no real bite in her voice—only that familiar dry humor she wielded like a subtle weapon, hiding warmth beneath her sarcasm.

You grinned, unfazed. “I know, I know. But for once, I’d like you to enjoy something fresh. Something made right in front of you, with love, preferably.”

Shoko smirked, feigning skepticism. “Something edible and that I didn’t have to prepare myself? This might actually be a birthday miracle.”

You laughed, playfully swatting Shoko’s arm before nestling back into her side, resting your head on Shoko’s shoulder. “Come on, it’s not that far-fetched. I even bought all the ingredients last night. You’re getting the works. Eggs, toast, maybe even something sweet to top it off.”

“Hmm,” Shoko hummed, closing her eyes. “You know, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were trying to impress me.”

“Maybe I am. Or maybe I’m trying to remind you to take it easy for once.”

There was a soft warmth in your voice, a kind of gentle insistence that made Shoko’s expression soften. She tilted her head slightly, pressing her lips to your forehead.

“Alright, alright,” she conceded. “You’ve convinced me. I’ll indulge in this grand birthday breakfast of yours. But only if you agree not to hold it over my head the next time I’m on a hospital shift.”

With a victorious grin, your face lit up. “Deal.”

You both laid there for a moment, savoring the stillness, until Shoko gave you a gentle nudge.

“Well, since you’re so set on making my day special, what else do you have planned? Don’t tell me it’s just breakfast,” Shoko teased, her eyes glinting with curiosity.

“Oh, there’s a bit more,” you whispered, looking smug. “But I’m not going to give everything away. That would ruin the surprise, wouldn’t it?”

Shoko arched an eyebrow. “You know I hate surprises.”

You laughed softly, teasing. “You hate everyone fussing over you. There’s a difference.”

Shoko rolled her eyes, but there was no mistaking the small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “Alright, so what’s the compromise?”

“I’ll tell you one thing, and you get to choose which part. Morning or evening?”

Shoko pretended to consider this seriously, crossing her arms and tapping a finger against her cheek. “Let’s go with evening. Save the suspense for later.”

Eyes sparkling with excitement, you propped yourself up and grinned. “Oh, you’re gonna love it. Tonight, I booked a private stargazing spot for us, just outside the city. They’re even setting up a little campfire for us.”

For a moment, Shoko just stared at you, surprised. “Stargazing? Out in the wild?”

You nodded, expression softening. “I know you don’t get much time away from… everything. Thought you’d appreciate a few quiet hours out there. Just us.”

The idea touched her more than she’d expected. Shoko reached out, squeezing your hand before kissing your palm. “That sounds… perfect. Thank you.”

A faint heat crept over your cheeks, but you only smiled and squeezed Shoko’s hand back.

“But,” Shoko added, a wry glint returning to her eyes, “you are still going to make me that birthday breakfast, right?”

Rollin your eyes, you laughed. “Of course. And if you’re good, maybe I’ll even throw in a side of coffee that wasn’t made twelve hours ago.”

“Wow. Now that’s what I call love,” Shoko deadpanned, chuckling as she leaned over to kiss you.

With one last playful nudge, you slid out of bed, grabbing Shoko’s hand and tugging her along. “Come on, birthday girl. Let’s start this day off right.”

You headed into the kitchen, the morning light now fully spilling through the windows, stretching out the warm glow across the small, cozy kitchen. Shoko watched you move around, humming softly, handling each ingredient with care. She could feel the quiet affection in every movement, every glance—a kind of love that didn’t need grand gestures or dramatic words to feel profound.

As she sipped her freshly brewed coffee, Shoko leaned back in her chair, a genuine smile on her lips as she took in the moment. Maybe birthdays weren’t so bad after all.

[milfs69420]

You belong with me - Part II

Natasha ran from her home country when she was 18, and has since been working at a stripclub in NYC. One night she spots a woman who seems all too familiar and turns out to be her childhood lover. While getting to know each other all over again, they discover new truths and old lies.

-Natasha Romanoff x Katya Petrova -Wordcount: 5,33K -Warnings: mentions of violence -A/N: I know it took a while but it's finally here, enjoy. Once again borrowed @katyaromanoffpetrova her babies, please note that Katya is a character she created, you can find the story through her page. I might actually hate this, but I hope you guys don't :)

We shall ignore any spelling or grammar errors for the sake of my sanity.

Do not repost my work as your own or translate my work!!!

It took until Friday night, for Natasha to realise she had absolutely no clue where Katya was taking her. She spent the whole week thinking about seeing the brunette again, but she hadn’t thought much about the details of it all. Since she didn’t know where they were going, Natasha had no idea what to wear. Would it be cold or warm? Did it call for casual clothes or something fancy? Whatever she would wear, it had to impress Katya, but she couldn’t try too hard, obviously.

Natasha was going insane. She felt like a teenage girl all over again, worrying about impressing someone with her looks. Someone she hadn’t seen in years, no less. This whole situation took over far more thoughts than she would’ve liked, so she spent the rest of the night doing chores to distract herself, until she ended up falling asleep on the couch with Liho on her lap.

The next morning, she immediately regretted having ended up in that position. Her back was aching and her neck was stiff. She made her way to the kitchen and did some stretches while waiting on her coffee, when she noticed a box on the table. Packages were delivered downstairs, so Clint or Maria must have brought it here earlier in the morning. She went to take a closer look at it and spotted the label.

Natasha Romanoff

There was no address on the box, only her name, so someone had personally dropped it off here. Someone with very fancy handwriting, it seemed, and it got Natasha’s hopes up for the contents of the package. Before she could open it though, Maria walked through the kitchen door.

“You got a secret admirer, Romanoff?” The dark haired woman smiled at her teasingly.

Natasha decided it was best to ignore the comment for now, it was far too early in the morning to be explaining an entire story about her childhood lover. “Did you see who dropped it off?”

“Some odd guy, took himself much too serious. He was wearing a suit and everything.”

The Russian hated the disappointment she felt upon learning that it wasn’t Katya who had brought it. She suspected that whoever this mystery man was, had been there on behalf of the brunette. First, she tells her that she’s having a car pick the redhead up, now this. It seemed Katya was very well off these days, how she made a life for herself though, Natasha had no clue.

After talking to Maria some more, she made her way back to her own space and set the box down on her table. It seemed Natasha wasn’t the only one curious about the mysterious box, seeing as Liho hopped onto the table as soon as she had set it down. The cat inspected the package before sitting down next to it, as if to tell the redhead to hurry up and open it already.

“Okay fine, I’ll open it. Stop staring at me you little shit.”

Natasha could swear she saw the cat’s sharp claws make an appearance out of her soft paws, and decided it would be best to get on with opening the box. Not wanting to mess around with the cardboard for too long, she simply decided to stick a knife into top and drag it all the way to the bottom. In hindsight, that could have turned out quite badly, but lucky for her whatever was in the package was protected by another box. This second box was incredibly fancy, adorned with her name written in gold on the lid of it, and whatever was in there must be worth a sizeable amount of money.

She threw the cardboard to the side and opened up the package still on the table. Inside was a semi transparant kind of wrapping paper, with a note on top. As Natasha picked up the card, she saw yet another box on top of the paper. This one was small and flat, and the redhead had a hunch for what was inside. Before opening anything though, she flipped over the card to see what it said.

Dear Natalia,

I sincerely hope, that you look as good in this, as I pictured you would.

K.

The redhead wanted to be annoyed about Katya simply refusing to use her new name, she really did. But the idea that the brunette had been thinking about her, picturing what she looked like in whatever was hiding in that package, that idea drove her slightly insane.

She put the card aside and opened the small box, inside was some of the most gorgeous jewellery she’d ever seen. A delicate gold necklace, with an hourglass shape made out of rubies hanging off of it. The shape alone, was enough to have the gears in her head turning at a rapid pace. Memories of her teen years came back to her, when she’d received the news that she had to leave her foster family, and therefore the town she had met Katya in. The goodbye had been emotional, and the brunette had given her a ring to remember her by. A gold ring with a red hourglass symbol on it, one that Natasha couldn’t wear anymore because of its size.

Next to the necklace were several earrings and rings, all gold and some with red gemstones adorning them, and a bracelet with a charm connected to it. A small dagger, no doubt a hint to the nights they used to share, when Katya would teach her how to throw knives with unmatched precision, though she never got quite as good as the brunette. All of these reminders of their past made Natasha feel more than she had expected. Whereas she usually felt mainly sadness about that time of her life, she now felt an overwhelming sense of excitement. Hope overtook her at the thought of getting know Katya all over again.

She carefully put aside the box and removed the wrapping paper. What she found was a carefully folded garment. She picked it up and let it drop into its natural shape, and she couldn’t help but gasp. In her hands was the most beautiful slip dress she’d ever seen, smooth expensive fabric with a wonderful dark emerald green colour. There was a slit in the side of dress, one that looked to go up her leg quite high, and Natasha couldn’t be more excited to put it on.

Since it was only morning, Natasha had to use all her willpower to leave this on the table for now and go on with her day, until she had to go and get ready. With every task that she busied herself with, she glanced over at that deep green coloured dress, and she made it until seven that evening until she caved. Natasha felt utterly ridiculous, standing in front of her bed and looking at her laid out outfit. She didn’t do this. She didn’t get ready for things two hours in advance, and she sure as hell didn’t worry about needing to impress someone with her looks.

Yet here she stood, freshly showered, shaved and putting in extra effort to make her hair look soft and silky, and bring out her natural curl that she knew Katya loved. All throughout her hair routine she recalled memories from her teen years. She thought of how Katya used to play with her hair, how she would make tiny braids and how Natasha would let her do absolutely anything that she pleased. The redhead came to the realisation now that she would probably still let the other Russian do as she pleased to her, though maybe in more daring ways now, than back then.

To hint at their shared memories, Natasha made a few small braids in her hair. She knew that Katya would understand their meaning, and that made it all the more fun. The braids also helped keep the hair out of her face as she was putting on her makeup, which she wouldn’t dare to do with that expensive dress on already. She kept her look quite natural for the most part, just the way she liked it, and finished it off with a darker lip tint that she knew she could pull off in the best way. She could say that she made that decision purely because she thought the shade was pretty, but in reality she was hoping to have Katya pay extra attention to them, but she would never admit that, of course.

As she was putting on the dress and jewellery she was overly aware of how far ahead her thoughts were. Rationally thinking, she should hear the brunette out first, see why she’s here and why now. But her thoughts weren’t rational. As much as she loved Clint and Maria and everyone she had in her life, she never meant to end up here. She wanted out, out of this place, out of this job, out of her loneliness. Katya’s arrival had given her so much hope that she believed it may actually all happen. And so she found herself here, feeling like a teenager all over again, mind clouded with daydreams about what she and her childhood lover could potentially become in the future. 

….

After sitting and waiting, and feeling like a fool, for well over an hour, Natasha could finally go outside and meet whatever mystery person was picking her up. She hadn’t needed those two hours to get ready, usually she’s done well under one hour, or way less, she simply got too excited over the whole situation. She’d been right about her assumption that the slit on her right thigh went up quite high, and she was certain that Katya had chosen that on purpose. Natasha didn’t mind that at all, not because she was used to showing off her body, but because Katya was the one person who she’d gladly show all of her to. 

Right as she walked outside, a black SUV showed up at the curb, and before she was even close to the car, a man had stepped out. Dressed in a classic black suit, probably an expensive one, he walked to the other side of the car. As he turned to open the door for Natasha, she could see that he was wearing some sort of communications device in his ear, it made her wonder what kind of security measurements were present, and why they were needed.

The man hadn’t said a word, not when she got in the car, not during the drive, and he didn’t speak either when he opened the door for her to get out. As Natasha stepped out of the car she took in her surroundings, she caught a glimpse of the busy street in the city centre before she was ushered towards the building in front of her. She walked towards the entrance of the seemingly very classy restaurant, and the mystery man opened the door for her. He guided her inside, but as soon as the tables came into view she didn’t need his directions anymore. There, in the middle of an otherwise empty restaurant, sat the person who’d been keeping her up all week.

Natasha took notice of the guards standing in every corner, and she assumed there were more in the rest of the building. However wary she was of all this security, she walked towards the table with a smile. This time it wasn’t some man in a tailored suit showing manners, it was Katya who got up and pulled out the chair on the other side of the table for Natasha. Once she sat down, and the brunette had settled back in the chair opposite of her, she took a moment to observe the woman in front of her before speaking up.

“This is an awful lot of guards for a dinner date, don’t you think?” The redhead still wore that charming smile on her face. She wasn’t afraid, or hostile, and neither was Katya. She was genuinely curious about why all of this was needed, the guards, the empty restaurant, everything.

“Oh so this is a date now?” Katya’s face was adorned with that oh so captivating smirk that, if it had been on anyone else’s face, would’ve annoyed Natasha to no end. 

“Well I don’t usually dress up quite this fancy for any other occasion, do you?”

Katya took that as her cue to, unashamedly, check out the redhead opposing her. She let her eyes wander where she pleased, and she knew that Natasha didn’t mind. In fact, she was doing the exact same to the brunette. It seemed that suits were her thing these days, as she was wearing yet another, no doubt tailor made, dark suit that fit her exactly right. With all this staring back and forth, and tension growing in the air, Katya decided to tease Natasha just a bit more. She took off her blazer and put it over the back of her chair, and to finish it off she rolled up her sleeves to reveal her smooth, ink adorned skin.

“You look beyond gorgeous in that dress, Natalia. Just as I hoped you would.”

“So you’ve been thinking of me then? Picturing me all dressed up, just for you.”

The brunette didn’t admit anything, instead she just smiled at Natasha and handed her one of the menus that had been on the side of the table. 

“I suppose we should get drinks and appetizers first, before getting into the details of this whole situation.” They quietly went over their menus before a sharply dressed woman came up to them, asking for their orders. When all was said and done, and they’d put in their requests for the evening, they received their drinks and were left alone for the time being. 

“So are you going to explain all the security measures?” Natasha was getting impatient now. As fun as the banter was, she was here to get answers. Katya could sense the change in her attitude, and adjusted her own accordingly. 

“You’ll understand the details later on, for now let’s just say there’s plenty of people who’d love to get their hands on me. And not in a pleasant way.” The brunette just couldn’t help but joke around, and Natasha hated that she liked it. She had to fight the blush that tried to make an appearance on her cheeks, because she too, wanted to get her hands on Katya. Though not in a way that called for all these guards present. 

“So what have you done then? To piss off people that badly.”

At that question, Katya seemed to get slightly uncomfortable. “To get to that, we need to go back to the past first. Even before we met, hell even before I was born.”

Now this piqued the redhead’s interest. She hadn’t gone into this with any expectations, but she certainly didn’t think there would be this much history to the story. And the sorrow that seemed to take over Katya had not only made her curious, but already furious at whoever was responsible for whatever bad things had happened to her childhood lover. 

“So, as you already know, I used to live with my uncle.” She started her story. “And I’ve told you before that my mom passed shortly after my birth, and other than my uncle there wasn’t anyone to take care of me.”

So far, this was all information that Natasha knew already, but she understood that the other Russian had to make sure she was aware of the foundation for the story. She didn’t speak, and decided against interrupting Katya at any point. The look on her face made it clear that this was a serious conversation, so all banter was to be stopped for now.

“I obviously don’t know what things looked like from your side of the street, but I can say with absolute certainty that things at Dreykov’s place were worse than they seemed. I think everyone in the town was aware that he was involved in some shady stuff, many suspected some kind of mob activity going on. The truth is actually worse. You see, he didn’t deal drugs, or weapons or any of that stuff, he dealt people. Girls, to be specific.”

Natasha tried to keep her face blank, she didn’t want her expressions to affect the woman opposite of her. She had heard her fair share of theories about what went on in the building across the street, but she hadn’t known about this.

“Some girls, depending on age, were sold to disgusting creeps. However, kids like me, who didn’t have a clue about the world yet and had everything to learn, we were trained. I won’t go into details for now, but we were trained not only to fight, but to kill. We were taught about every single way you can end someone’s life, and if any of the girls failed a part of training, they became the target.”

Katya fell silent after that, and Natasha didn’t bother filling the silence either. This moment was utilised by the staff to bring over their drinks and first course. The redhead muttered a quick thank you, but didn’t take her eyes off of the somber looking brunette, who cleared her throat and pushed herself to keep going.

“You have to understand, that while I may have seemed kind and innocent to you at the time, I have seen and done things you never want to imagine. To many, I’m a monster, and I completely understand if that’s how you feel about me too.” As she said that, Katya seemed about ready to watch the other Russian leave and never come back.

“And I need you to understand something in return.” Natasha looked her in the eye to make sure that every word reached her. “You were forced to do all of that stuff, I don’t know exactly what went down but it sounds like a life or death situation. You did what you had to do to survive, Katya. You were the only person that showed me any kindness at all. I mean, I thought that my foster parents liked me, but they threw me out with the garbage. You were the only person to be honest to me, you said you loved me and you meant it. I will never think that you’re a monster.”

The brunette looked down at her still untouched food, like she was taking all of those words in, unsure of how to respond. Then, she looked up at Natasha with a sadness in her eyes that wasn’t there before.

“They liked you.”

Natasha looked up at her confused. “What?”

“Your foster parents, they liked you. They had every intention of keeping you around.”

“You’re lying, they made me pack my bags and leave without explanation.” 

This made the redhead upset, Katya was implying that she may have had a chance at the happy family she had always craved, and she didn’t take this lightly.

“Natalia, I’m deeply sorry for what I’m about to tell you, and I understand if you don’t want to talk to me anymore after this.” Katya took a deep breath before continuing.

“Besides the girls and teachers, there was a load of guards involved with the organisation. I guess someone had noticed me sneaking out at night and a guard followed me when I went to meet you. I don’t know exactly what they saw but it was enough for them to know that we were more than what we were supposed to be. They couldn’t get rid of me like the other girls, not only had I become an important asset, but I’m also related to Dreykov.”

The brunette fell silent for a moment to prepare for what she had to say next. She couldn’t bear to look Natasha in the eye, knowing that she was causing all the hurt that was visible on the redhead’s face. She was fully prepared at this point, to break Natasha’s heart and watch leave.

“With some very convincing threats, and a lot of money, Dreykov got rid of you instead. He made them kick you out, and punished me in ways that made me wish he’d killed me instead. I didn’t know any of this at the time, he actually made me believe that you had been killed for the longest time. I found out a few years ago, I’m so sorry Natalia.”

“Stop calling me that.” Up until now, the name had only slightly annoyed Natasha, but in this emotional state she couldn’t handle any of it. She had to fight the emotions that seemed to get stuck in her throat, and tried her best to keep the tears from escaping. That name was a far too prominent reminder of the past, and it was too much for her to handle right now.

“I don’t want to hate you.” She looked at woman opposite of her. “I loved you, Katya. Hell, I’m half convinced I could fall in love all over again right now, so I do not want to resent you even the slightest bit. I wouldn’t change anything we did back then, even if the outcome hurts me so deeply. Right now though, I need you to work with me here. I’ve changed since we were teenagers, I had to. I needed a fresh start and that came in the form of this new person, Natasha. I need you to respect that.”

“Yes, of course. I’m sorry, Natasha.” 

Katya dared to offer her a slight smile, in the hope of bringing some comfort to this situation. Natasha looked her in the eyes, like she was searching for something, anything that could help her navigate the turmoil of emotions she was experiencing. She saw a change behind Natasha’s eyes, one that indicated that she had put her emotions aside for now to keep herself together for the rest of the evening. There was no doubt though, that it would take time for her to let everything sink in, and learn to live with all that knowledge.

“I’m not saying we need to forget everything we used to know about each other, but we need to get to know each other all over again. That is, of course, if you intend on staying around to keep talking.”

Katya seemed almost surprised at how the redhead was dealing with all of this information. “Honestly, I didn’t think you’d want me around after this conversation.”

It made Natasha sad, how badly the other Russian seemed to think of herself. Katya’s self worth seemed to have been crushed, and at that moment the redhead decided that it would be her mission to restore it. She needed her to see that she wasn’t a monster, she was just a human who’s been put in the most inhumane situations and did what she had to in order to survive.

“Well, I could always change my mind after you tell me the rest of the story.” She put that signature smirk on her face in an attempt to lighten the mood a bit.

“I’m guessing that you mean how I ended up here?”

“Tell me everything, what happened after I left, how you ended up in this position. It seems that you’re quite well off, with all your security and fancy clothes and everything.”

Katya smiled at her, silently agreeing with her. Firstly though, they finally finished their food and received the main course for the evening. While enjoying their food Katya shared the rest of her story. She told Natasha about the bad, painful things she had to endure after they’d been found out. She told her about how from that moment on, she started truly hating Dreykov, and started plotting against him. 

Katya had thought that he had been responsible for killing her childhood lover, and it filled her with an incredible amount of rage. So as she got older, she started looking for ways to not only put an end to this organisation, but to burn everything associated with it to the ground. Soon after she turned eighteen she had gathered all that she needed, and after a lot of violence all guards had been taken care of and all the girls had sided with her.

She told Natasha about that final encounter with Dreykov, how he had realised that this would be the end for him no matter what. In a last attempt to maintain his power he had told Katya about what had really happened to her secret girlfriend. She had smiled at him as she put her knife in his chest, not only because he was finally gone, but because she now knew that Natasha was alive. 

And so she’d gone on to lead all those girls that she has trained with. She’d downloaded all data from her uncle’s organisation and they had set off on a mission. They had a list of every organisation, government, politician and business associate of Dreykov, and the task was to eliminate them, whatever it takes. Along the way, Katya had made a name for herself and built a network. Most of those targets didn’t want to be convinced to stop what they were doing, and therefore had to be eliminated in a rather permanent manner. Now, even people in high power positions feared her, and nobody dared to mess with her.

That more or less summed up how she got to where she is now. She took money and weapons from organisations that they’d taken down, and thanks to her network of powerful people there were plenty of people investing in her cause. She’s built an army over the years, an army of people who move in the shadows, who take down anyone that stands in their way. 

“So I guess that’s the rest of that story you wanted.” Katya finished off her explanation as dessert was delivered to their table. 

“Almost, you still have to tell me how you found me, and why you showed up just now.”

“Well, finding you was actually quite easy. Your boss, Fury as he likes to call himself.”

“You mean Nick”

“Yes, I mean Nick. I also refuse to call him that ridiculous name. Anyway he got in contact with some shady people about a year ago, they tried to involve him in trafficking business to get women for his club. He wanted nothing to do with it and wanted them gone, so people from my organisation sorted it out for him. Initially I had nothing to do with it, but we do background checks on everyone that gets involved with us.” 

Natasha listened intently, she had her suspicions about her boss getting involved with something, she just hasn’t known what, or who. She’d seen him on the phone and whatever kept him busy seemingly required loads of secrecy. 

“Now this is embarrassing to admit, but here we go. I had an order communicated to everyone involved with what we do. If your name ever came up anywhere, I am to be notified right away.”

She was interrupted by laughter coming from the other side of the table. Natasha thought it was funny, utterly adorable and also more attractive than she was willing to admit, that Katya had gone to such lengths. It warmed her heart that the brunette had never forgotten about finding her. 

“Okay if you’re done laughing, I’d like to continue.”

“Oh I don’t think you need to, it’s easy. You found my name, my new one, and found out that I work and live at the club, and that’s when you decided to start lurking in the shadows to watch me on stage. I hope you enjoyed the shows, by the way.”

Natasha felt more confident now, she felt like she finally knew who was really sitting across the table. It saddened her that Katya had not expected the conversation to get this far. The love she had for the other woman back when they were teens, was the truest love that she’s experienced to date. Even with all the heavy subjects that they touched on tonight, the transition to that light, playful dynamic they were so good at was easy.

“Oh I enjoyed the shows alright, nothing beats that look on your face when I said your name though.”

After dessert had finished, they sat and talked for a little while longer, while enjoying their drinks. Neither woman could deny how much they enjoyed each other’s company. Even with all these new truths, and old lies, coming to light, there was an undeniable familiarity between them. As the night came to an end, they found themselves looking for excuses to stay right where they are. So they found themselves lingering outside on the pavement, delaying the inevitable separation.

“So, will I get any more mysterious invites like this, or can you text me like a normal woman?” 

Natasha couldn’t help but put that signature smirk on her face, just in case Katya needed a little extra convincing. She offered up her phone, and the brunette took it right away to put in her contact information. She immediately called herself with the phone so she could save the redhead’s phone number to hers as well.

“You’ll be taken back to the club with the same car, to ensure you get home safely.”

“Don’t you worry, I know how to defend myself much better than you’d expect.”

“Do I ever get to hear that story?”

Natasha smiled at her. “Sure, on our second date, darling.”

With that, she took a step towards Katya. She leaned towards her and gave the brunette a kiss on the cheek and stepped backwards again, showing that charming smile one more time before turning around and walking towards the car. It took more effort than she was willing to admit, to not turn around and stay for a little while longer. Instead, she got in the car and it took off to bring her back safely, and she immediately missed the presence of her childhood lover.

Meanwhile, Katya was left standing there on the pavement, looking at the car as it took off. This strong, powerful woman who was feared by so many, had been rendered useless because of such a simple gesture. If she had lost all self control, she might have reached out to touch her cheek right where the redhead’s lips had been. However, she was still surrounded by security guards and while she knew they had a massive amount of respect for her, she did need to uphold her image and couldn’t look like a total fool.

That night, both women let their thoughts wander to the other. Natasha was eager to rekindle the flame that had once been ablaze between them, and she could swear the sparks of it were still there like they never left. She was eager for a potential new life, where she didn’t feel this miserable and lonely so often. A life where she had someone to talk to at the end of every day, someone to share her joy with, and her sadness. If she let her mind truly get ahead of her, the future looked awfully domestic and joyful, both things she hadn’t experienced in a long time.

Katya on the other hand only dared to let her thoughts go so far. Her upbringing had left her wary of people and filled with trust issues. As much as she’d love to be able to let Natasha right back in her life and go all in on exploring how good they can be together, she simply had to be sensible. But as her phone screen lit up with a goodnight and thank you text from the very person she was thinking of, she couldn’t stop a smile from appearing on her face.

[nylibrty]

girl with the tattoo ⸝ ⸝ ⸝ chapter two

「pairing」 breanna stewart x riley carter (oc)

「summary」 riley is pretty sure she just made breanna hate her, what happens when breanna invites her to dinner?

「cw」 n/a

「notes」 sorry this took so long... pls forgive...

series masterlist

as she left, kayla and kennedy quickly caught up with her. "oh hey guys, did i forget something or?" riley asked, attempting to walk past them in order to get home, not in the brightest mood to ruin any more relationships with her new teammates.

"oh no you're good! we were just wondering if you wanted to come get drinks with us or something," kayla started.

"a rookie welcoming, if you will." kennedy quickly finished kaylas sentence.

riley smiled, the two girls already putting her in a better mood. "i'd love to."

and with that, kennedy and kayla took riley on a tour around town. after about an hour of walking around and talking, mostly kayla asking riley about her college career and just simple get-to-know-you stuff, they finally ended up at a bar. sitting down they each ordered their drink of choice. riley chose a beer, trying to not drink too heavily when she has practice in less than a day.

the conversation flowed well and by the time riley had made her way home, she was put into three new groupchats and was sure kennedy and kayla was taking her under their wing.

—

waking up the next morning was a struggle for riley. she had gone through her normal morning routine but was distracted practically the entire time. running through all the interactions she had with breanna yesterday to somehow get her to hate in her in less than 24 hours.

by the time she got the training it felt like her whole day was off. breanna was nowhere to be seen and she was sure she was purposefully avoiding her. riley sat with kayla and kennedy, something that began to become routine for her, quickly becoming close to the two girls.

"so, whats the deal with stewie? is she always like that with rookies?" riley asked nervously, studying the two girls faces who sat in front of her.

"what do you mean, stewie is like the nicest person here," kennedy laughed, rileys stomach sank, she must have really done something wrong to make her hate her this quickly. "why? is she mean to you or something?" kennedy followed up, leaning closer.

"no, shes just weird towards me..?" riley said, shrugging her shoulders. the two girls bugged her for more information and riley told her what happened yesterday. kennedy and kayla exchanged looks, seemingly talking with their eyes. "what? did i do something?" riley panicked, her eyebrows furrowing.

kayla laughed, "no! i'm sure its nothing..." she shrugged, clearing not sharing everything she had to say.

before riley could inquire any further about their comments, it was time to actually go start warmups. she sat down to start stretching, looking over to see breanna staring at her from afar. a chill went down her spine, a red flush spreading across her face. riley attempted to get herself together, taking a deep breath and focusing back on her stretching.

once she was done stretching they ran a few scrimmages. it went well for riley, the coaching team clearly impressed by her skill. after the scrimmage was done, she sat against the wall, sipping on her waterbottle.

"hey? you got room for one more?" breanna asked, startling riley.

"you can't sneak up on me like that." riley laughed, patting the floor next to her to signal breanna to join her.

the tall girl sat next to her, squirting the water from her waterbottle into her mouth. they sat in silence for a moment, both unsure of exactly what to say.

"so... you enjoying the team so far?" breanna questioned.

"yeah, yeah. its nice, i like it here." she grinned, not caring to notice that breanna definitely kept scooting closer to her.

they sat in silence once more, a clear awkwardness hanging in between them.

breanna set her waterbottle to the side, playing with her fingers, nervous about something. "i usually take the new rookies out for dinner as a welcome to new york kinda thing... i was wondering if you could make it? it'll be tonight after practice." she rambled.

riley was shocked. a mixture of confusion and warmth filled her. she was so sure all about ten minutes ago that the vet surely hated her, but now she was inviting her out? she swallowed, considering her options, her thoughts were quickly interrupted by breannas voice once more.

"its not like mandatory or anything, i know you have a lot going on right now," she reassured the rookie.

riley cleared her throat, the choice clear now. "yeah no, i'd love to go." she smiled.

"perfect! ill text you the information after practice." breanna grinned, that gummy smile making butterflies swarm in rileys stomach.

before she could respond, breanna was up and gone, getting ready for the next part of practice.

—

the rest of practice went smoothly, riley was a lot less in her head now that she knew that breanna didn't hate her. she still couldn't place her finger on what her deal was though, something clearly putting a wall between them.

she walked with leonie back to the locker room, small talk about their days and practice filling dead air.

"did stewie also invite you to some thing tonight?"

"yeah she did, are you going?"

leonie nodded and riley felt a weight fall off her shoulders. she was friends with some of the other rookies, but she was glad to have someone like leo going as well. before the conversation could go anywhere else, they had made it to the locker room and branched out to their separate lockers.

once riley was successfully changed and ready to leave, she looked up to see breanna only a few lockers down, clad in a sports bra and shorts. riley swallowed, unable to tear her eyes away from her physique, tight abs adorning her stomach and biceps bulging. breanna looked over and shot her a smirk. the rookie blushed a deep red, quickly averting her eyes back to her locker, fumbling to close it shut.

she heard a chuckle from breanna, her footsteps approaching.

"eyes to yourself, rook." she whispered in her ear, patting her back before walking off to refill her water bottle.

riley coughed, choking on her own spit. kennedy turned around, also coming up to her locker. "what was all that about?"

"i dont know," riley sighed, pushing past her to leave.

she was confused. confused with this new team, with this new area, and more importantly, was confused on what the fuck was going on between her and breanna.

she was distracted the entire ride home, barely paying attention to what was around her, and focused on getting back to the safety of her apartment. once she finally made it home, she dropped her gym bag and immediately got into the shower.

going about her post practice routine, she hadn't bothered to check her phone, not realizing she had several unread messages.

stewie:  156 Court St meet us there at 6:30.

leonie: youre still going right? i saw that stewie talked to you before you left

brooklyns finest: kt: WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT ABOUT RILEY CARTER

riley checked all of the messages, ignoring breannas message entirely and moving on to leo and the group chat. she typed out a quick yes, sending it to leo before seeing what kayla and kennedy had to say.

brooklyns finest:

kb: exactlyyyy, yall going to dinner tonight rightttt 👀

riley: its not just us two 🙄 she invited leo too.

kt: thats until she cancels last minute...

riley: shut up. its not like she wants me back or anything.

kb: so you DO want her!!!

kt: i knew it!!

riley: gtg

kb: give us all the details when you get home babe 😘

riley rolled her eyes and checked the clock before turning off her phone.

4:00 pm. she had 2 and a half hours to get ready. she could do this.

it wasn't even a date, there was no reason for her to be stressed. leo was gonna be there anyways, it was gonna be fine.

she spent the next hour being anything but fine. spamming kayla and kennedy with outfit choices and practically tearing apart her tiny closet to find the perfect outfit. after what felt like forever, she found a cute dress to wear, showing the perfect amount of skin. by the time she did her hair and makeup and paced around her apartment enough times to calm herself down, she was finally ready. she took a deep breath and left her apartment. riley made her way to the subway and rode towards barclays. she checked her phone multiple times, making sure leo wasn't texting her last minute that she actually was canceling, and to her enjoyment, there was still no text about any sort of cancellation.

she made it to her stop, coming up from underground and beginning to walk towards the restaurant. it wasn't very far from the station, only a couple minutes which she was grateful for. leo was standing around by a pole close by to the restaurant, waiting for riley.

"hey! i was worried you weren't coming." leo laughed, walking towards the entrance with riley.

they continued with the small talk, making their way into the restaurant and finding breanna sitting at a table with ivana and jaylyn beside her. there were two seats left, one right by breanna and one at the end of the table.

leo, who was steps ahead of riley, took the one at the end. which left riley with one place to sit.

right next to breanna.

breanna pulled the chair out for her, a simple gesture that she didn’t even acknowledge. riley secretly appreciated it, sitting down next to her and feeling the comforting presence of the older woman next to her.

conversations flowed as drinks were given and riley fell smoothly into conversation with ivana and jaylyn. breanna was talking to leo, her presence still lingering with riley. she caught her stealing glances with her more than once, a blushing smile on her face.

as dinner went on, everybody had ordered and was enjoying their meals, laughing and talking about past experiences. riley was glad she went, truly. it was nice to get to know people the same age as her and the people who had similar experiences as her.

"alright guys, i gotta get home. thank you for dinner stewie, and everybody else, it was nice to get to know you!" jaylyn said, gathering her items and heading out the door.

with that, most everybody else filtered out. now, it was just breanna and riley.

fuck.

"dinner was nice, thank you." riley said, turning her body to face breanna.

she hadn't taken the time to actually look at breanna tonight. hadn't taken the time to be this close to her and study her features and what she was wearing tonight.

a simple graphic t-shirt with a white button-up over it, she almost laughed at it, coming to a nice dinner wearing her silly outfit.

"you really wore that," riley gestured towards her outfit, "to dinner?"

breanna chuckled, glancing down to examine her own outfit. "what? you don't like it?" she laughed, nudging her with her elbow.

"oh trust me, i like it. you just look stupid, stewart." she raised her eyebrow, returning to that original banter that took place when they first met.

"awh cmon rook, my stupid outfit fits well with the dress number," she grinned, referring to rileys dress. "you look good, by the way," she commented softly, averting her eyes and taking the straw of her drink into her mouth.

"you're not too bad yourself." riley smiled.

they sat in comfortable silence for a moment longer. riley couldn't get over how her heart was bursting or how she wanted to run around and gossip about this like a teenage girl.

before she knew it, breanna had paid for the bill and was walking her out to the subway.

"you have my number, if you ever want recommendations for stuff around town, just text me!" breanna grinned, hearing riley complain about not knowing where to start.

"yeah, yeah, new york native." riley rolled her eyes, standing with breanna as she waited for the subway.

"im serious though, text me anytime rook. i dont bite," she laughed.

before riley could get another word in, the subway was pulling in.

"well, i guess i'll see you tomorrow." breanna said, turning to face her.

"yeah, i'll miss you." riley grinned.

they sat and stared at each other for a moment, in complete silence. as if magnets were pulling them together, suddenly they were getting closer, lips only inches away from each other.

"fuck, i got to go, i'm sorry." riley mumbled, realizing the subway was about to leave at any moment.

breanna snapped back to reality, clearing her throat and pulling away. her face was bright red and she was looking anywhere but rileys face. "yeah—fuck—im sorry riley." she said, realizing what she had just almost done.

"i-its fine," riley brushed it off quickly, leaving without a goodbye.

[bloogers-boogers]

Lucifer woke up with a tight sensation in his chest, he grasped the fabric of his clothing unaware of what was happening. Well technically he WAS aware but he was still mentally denying what he was sensing. He looked around at the darkness of his room, his spouse sleeping peacefully right next to him; ear twitching even with the slightest noises of his movements. He didn't want to wake him up so he carefully removed the blanket and tiptoe his way out of bed.

He approached the window with wise knowledge of what was happening, his hands planted on the reel of the window, gripping tightly while looking at the red crimson sky of the night.

Suddenly the red turned into a cold dark blue, immediately changing to something burning bright, to be more in fact, into a ball of blue fire.

Yeah.

His wings spread wide open preparing for flight before-

"Where are you going?" Adam's voice snapped him from his new task and raising danger to hell.

"It's–"

"What's going on?" Adam immediately sensing the shift of emotions in his demeanor. Something was already telling him nothing was okay.

"It's Michael."

His eyes widened.

"He's falling. I have to go now."

Adam sprinted on to his feet, "Lucifer be careful."

Lucifer softened by his concerns, "take the kids to the basement."

Adam huffed as he got closer while locking his fingers with his, "you better explain to me what the fuck happened when you get back, and NO, da fuck? I'm not taking the kids to the basement."

Lucifer rolled his eyes before smiling gently, "I'll be back soon. If that ball of fire keeps coming down then GO to the basement, it's the safest place for you all to shield yourself."

"What ball of fi—"

Lucifer immediately flew out of the window after giving Adam a quick peck on the lips.

It wasn't too long until he found himself hitting himself against the ball of fire like a man diving stomach facing towards water, with wide streched out arms trying to take hold of that beast. His brows scrunched together as he held tighter on to the ball. The flames burning his skin but in the core of the flaming ball he can perfectly see his brother. Knocked in a deep slumber clearly whatever took him out was far more greater than the fall itself.

Lucifer couldn’t help but wonder how? Why?

He growled as his summoned all his power to withhold the impact, he was trying so hard to keep Michael from hitting the grounds of hell. He can only imagine the damages that it would cause if he let that happen. Michael wasn't just some ordinary fallen he was the fucking KING of heaven. An archangel. The general of heaven's army. Heaven's shield. Protector. His brother.

He always hated to admit that any of his imbecile brothers held far more power than him, in reality they didn't with the exception of one. And this is the damn exception curled up in a ball, injured, vulnerable. In his fucking domain. Michael was born from the same light as him, just a few light years apart, it was no surprise they held a similar amount of power, qualities, 'perks' and traits. Still, Lucifer has and always will be the eldest of all brothers.

And with such curse, he must deal with the fact that he cannot stand seeing any of his baby brothers injured. Even if they didn't follow such foolish thinking like he did. Even if they casted him down to the dark pits of hell. Even if this is the same motherfucker that brought him here to begin with.

He cannot bear the thought of his baby brother having to endure what he did. It hurt. For some reason it hurt more than his own fall. Maybe it was the fact thay he was literally in flames over holding on to a ball of fire but still, he never pictured himself being the one to welcome one of his so called darling brothers to his home. Okay, maybe he did, but not this soon. He's being a tan dramatic, yes, but it's a form of coping alright??

Okay, Lucifer, focused!

°°°°

The fall wasn't pretty, atleast on Lucifer's end. Lucifer coughed like a 80 year old smocker as he tried shooing the dust away with his hand. He wasnon the ground on his knees, exhausted from all the power he had used to lighten the impact.

The more the dust disperse the more Lucifer can finally have a clearer vision of his brother layyed flat on the ground, wings twitching in pain, unconscious. Andin split seconds Michael started moving.

Lucifer slowly started crawling back up, carefully, calculated. Before..

Blazing blue neon eyes scanned the area cautiously, and as predator preparing to find a meal his eyes glued on to Lucifer’s red crimson.

They both froze in the spot, momentarily looking at eachother; one ready for an attack the other preparing for one.

[belovanat2]

Our new chance, pt 1

Agatha and Rio are given a new chance. 

It's age regression, if you don't like it, don't read it.

Alice is the reader's name, unrelated to the show.

I'm going to write several chapters, so it may take a while for the story to unfold. 

English its not my first language.

1750

Nicky and Agatha were walking through the forest, humming a song they had both made up.

"Mama, when can I see her again?" Nicky asks his mother, who looks at him uncertainly.

"I don't know, my dear... hopefully not too soon," Agatha replied, looking around and holding back tears. She knew very well who her son was talking about. Well, she wanted to see her again too, but it was better to stay away, she could feel it.

"But I miss her, my mom," Nicky tapped his foot in disappointment, he couldn't understand. 

Agatha sighs and puts her hand to her temple.

"I miss her too, darling, but it was time to separate..." she knew that her son was getting worse every day.

She had to make the difficult choice of leaving her beloved and separating a son from his mother. But it was the best option at the moment, she wanted to get away, to stay as far away as possible.

"But when are we going to see her again?" Nicky insists.

"I hope in a long time..." Agatha answered her son, her voice accompanied by sadness.

The two of them, tired after walking for hours, decide to set up camp in a remote part of the forest, and fall asleep together...

---

The sun rises, and they gradually start to wake up. Agatha was the first to sit up and stroke her son's hair. He was still drowsy.

"Did you have a good night, my darling?" Agatha asks, kissing Nicky on the cheek.

"Yes, I did" he yawns, and slowly sits up "I saw... I saw a girl" he begins.

"A girl?" Agatha asks curiously "in your dreams?". Nicky makes a face of doubt.

"I don't know..." he shrugs "but she was my sister" he says, his eyes full of anticipation for his mother.

"Sister? You don't have a sister my dear" Agatha laughs, children can be creative, especially her son. But Nicky isn't amused.

"I'm serious mama, she was my sister," he says firmly, he knew she was.

"Baby, it was just a dream," says Agatha, tidying his hair affectionately. 

"It wasn't just a dream... I saw her, she was there". Agatha sighs, her son was stubborn when he wanted to be "she was around three years old, and her name was Alice!" 

"Oh, so she was a toddler" Agatha decides to join in her son's conversation "so you want a little sister?" Nicky shakes his head in denial.

"I won't get to meet her, but you and Mom will," he says smiling, but on the other side Agatha is panicked by her son's comment, what does he mean by that?! 

"Okay, enough of this talk!" Agatha starts to get up and pack her things, clearly anxious, "Let's go and get our breakfast..."

------- 

2026

She had to be quiet, it was her first time breaking into someone's house. She knew it was wrong, but she was very hungry. She was on the verge of despair.

It had been two weeks since she had left home, her supply of food that could fit into a backpack had run out. And it was the last option. 

Luckily for her, there was a doggy door in the house that was unlocked, and she, being a small person, was able to get through it with ease. 

Finally, she was inside the house, and with slow steps she headed off to try and find some food. 

She quietly opens it and the first thing she sees are grapes, lots of grapes, and her stomach rumbles. She quickly grabs the bunch and starts eating desperately. 

So desperately that by accident and because the house is totally dark, she drops something extremely noisy, which crashes to the floor.

"Damn it... no... no" the girl begins to despair, tears begin to form, especially as she hears footsteps coming from upstairs. She finds a corner near the cupboards to hide (still holding her grapes).

----

Rio and Agatha were sleeping peacefully in their bedroom when they heard a noise coming from downstairs. They both get up quickly.

"There's someone downstairs" Agatha says, heading for the stairs and Rio follows her. They didn't do the slightest thing to go downstairs and take the thief by surprise.

They arrive downstairs and turn on the lights.

"We know you're here, come out!" Agatha shouts and starts searching the house.

"You'd better come out, you don't want us to find you," Rio says in a firm voice, but low.

The girl was shivering in the corner of a cupboard, she would be caught, these women would call the police and she would have to go back to her mother's house, the place she had run away from. She was crying with fear, until she sniffled louder, and instantly regretted it.

Agatha and Rio looked at each other. They've both heard. Rio smiles confidently, they have finally heard the intruder.

"We know where you are," Agatha says, slowly approaching where they heard the noise. The girl's heart was pounding.

As there were no answers, the two witches approached their target. 

"Boo !" Rio exclaims, when they spot the imposter. 

The girl curls up even tighter with her head on her knees, avoiding their gaze, and continues to cry. 

Rio and Agatha look at each other in confusion.

They were expecting someone with a menacing appearance or even another witch or supernatural being. But no, it was just a girl. A small, harmless girl, who was cowering and still holding a bunch of grapes.

"What's going on?!" Agatha asked, gesturing with her hands, "who are you?!" 

The girl knew there were no options left, they had found her, it was better to give herself up once and for all. But fear prevented her from moving.

"I'm sorry..." the girl whispered so quietly that the women could hardly hear her.

"What are you doing in our house and who are you?" Agatha insists "Get up, thief!" The blue-eyed witch raises her voice and the girl is startled.

Rio stares at Agatha and raises an eyebrow. Her wife was making a scene and scaring the girl.

"We just want to talk, can you get up please?" Rio interferes and asks in a more subtle voice, trying to calm the girl down and ease the situation.

The girl began to breathe calmly to try to calm down, she really had no other option. She lifted her head from her knees and looked at the two girls, her face red from crying and tears streaming down her face. 

Her face was angelic, causing the two women to soften their features, especially Agatha who narrowly missed casting a spell on the girl.

"I'm sorry..." she said, trying to wipe away the tears with one hand, while the other wouldn't let go of the bunch of grapes "I'm Alice...".

Agatha and Rio froze when they heard the girl's name. 

[cetoddle-archive]

the more i try to force myself to be positive and try and find things i like abt this job the more i miss my old job

[thebirdandhersong]

Lol

[aurosoulart]

the GREAT PATREON SMUSH

I was going to make an advertisement for this with bright colors and maybe animated sparkles but 1) I hate making ads and 2) we are all so exhausted by bright ads vying for our brain chemicals that I just don’t want to do that to you anymore!!!! I’m TIRED of things grabbing for my attention in an unending assault on my senses and I’m sure you are too!!!!!!!

if you’ve been doom-scrolling and need a break (a nice beverage, a stretch of the legs, etc.), take this as a sign to do so now. if you’ve got the energy for a little reading, though, and want to learn about my work - keep going!

ANYWAYS I’ll get to the point: ALL of my patreon benefits are now available to the lowest ($3) tier.

in fact, there ARE no other tiers anymore. they’re gone! scrunched! smunshed! stirred up all together into one big super tier soup of everything I offer now and will offer in the future!

everyone now gets:

over 100 4k desktop wallpapers

early access/wips

25% discounts on prints

livestream voice chat

art votes & art suggestions

commission slots

and access to the Art Grotto discord, a friendly and chill server with a small community of creative folks. we share art, writing, pets, memes, and also come up with fun art ideas together! 🌈

why am I smushing the tiers and giving up the higher pledge amounts?!

because capitalism sucks, we’re in a recession, and I’m lucky enough to have a full-time job that allows me to make art without being reliant on Patreon income. anyone who has sat in on one of my livestreams knows that I try to be a calming force in an often-chaotic world, and that I’m always looking for ways to make art more accessible to everyone. I want my Patreon to be a place where I can give back to those who are supporting me in this mission!

this tier smush is just the start of how I hope to transform this space! I have a bunch of fun ideas about stuff I want to do in the future, so keep an eye out for more announcements like this 👁

that’s all!!!! thank you if you’ve read this far, and here’s the link to the Patreon if any of this interested you!