#its NICE TO SEE U AGAIN ANON | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

angelsuecult · 1 month ago

Text

uncensored | s. crosby

warnings: MINORS DNI! a whole lot of cursing and smut. some roughness, so please read at your own discretion.

summary: sidney’s feeling in the mood to incorporate something beyond what you might expect. a forgotten phone catches all the nastiest details after a nice night out with friends.

wordcount: 6.2k

a/n: plotless smut with a twist, literally nothing more. also anon i saw ur message and i’ve been having connectivity problems all day which is why i’ve only just got around to uploading but thank u for ur kind words!! i don’t even know how i got this idea but.. also i felt bad that it wasn’t uploaded when i said it would be so i made it extra long! hopefully i can get that request one up today too, if not it will absolutely be up tomorrow. i hope y’all enjoy it! feel free to fill my inbox with your thoughts or requests! i love u little sluts🫶

The evening started innocently enough, the restaurant hummed with life, dim lighting casting a warm glow on the surroundings. Laughter and conversation filled the air as glasses clinked together, the smell of freshly cooked dishes floated through the air from the open kitchen. You were seated at a long table with a group of friends, a mix of familiar faces. Everyone seemed to be in high spirits.

Sid sat beside you, his thigh pressing lightly against yours, a silent connection that had been building since you first arrived. Every time his arm brushed yours as he reached for his drink, or when his fingers rested casually on your knee under the table, you could feel the tension simmering between you both. It wasn’t just the wine making your head feel light, its was the proximity, the heat of his body next to yours, and the way his touch lingered a second too long.

Across the table, your friends were in the middle of a heated discussion about the best vacation spots. You and Sidney were only half-listening, caught up in your own bubble as you sipped on your wine. His gaze flicked toward you, his lips quirking into a half-smile as if he knew exactly what was on your mind. The brush of his hand against your thigh under the table became deliberate, his fingers inching upward slightly.

At some points the conversation shifted toward the upcoming season, with Sidney’s friends asking him questions about training. You could see the way his eyes darkened slightly, how his attention wasn’t entirely on what they were saying but on the way your breathing changed each time his fingers inched higher and higher.

”Yeah, training has been good. Hard but good,” he replied absently, his hand now fully resting on your thigh, his fingers tracing circles that made it hard for you to sit still.

You shifted in your seat, your body betraying you as you fought the urge to react, not wanting anyone at the table to notice the dangerous game you and Sidney were playing. But he noticed. He always noticed. His smile widening slightly, his eyes locking on yours for a moment silently telling you he wasn’t going to stop anytime soon.

You learned in close, your voice low so only he could hear. “You’re playing a dangerous game, Crosby,” you whispered, shooting him a glance as you tried to focus on the conversation again.

His response was immediate, his lips brushing your ear as he whispered back, “You love it.”

And he wasn’t wrong. You did love it—the thrill of it, the anticipation, the way his touch made you forget everyone else around you. The tension had been building all evening, and now, with the wine loosening your inhibition and the feel of Sidney’s hand on your thighs, you couldn't wait for the night to take the turn you both wanted.

Across the table, someone suggested heading to a local bar, and for a moment, the attention shifted from the two of you. “What do you think?” Sidney asked, leaning close again. “Should we continue the night or head home?”

You glanced around the table, noting how everyone seemed eager for the night to continue. But you weren’t thinking about them. All you could think about was Sid and the promise in his touch, the way his eyes held yours in that quiet, burning intensity that made your pulse race.

”I think,” you began, your voice low as you reached for his drink, taking a sip before handing it back to him, “we should get out of here.”

His eyes darkened at your words, a slow smile spreading across his face. “Yeah?”

You nodded, biting your lip as you met his gaze, the tension crackling like electricity. He didn’t need to be told again. He flagged down the waiter, signaling for the check, and within minutes, you were outside the restaurant waiting for your car.

The cool night air was a welcome relief as you stood on the sidewalk, Sid’s arm casually draped around your shoulder. You leaned into him, feeling the warmth of his body seeping into yours, the buzz of alcohol still humming in your veins. “I think we had one too many,” you whispered, your lips brushing the fabric of his shirt as you glanced up at him with a lazy grin.

Sidney chuckled, his finger trailing absentmindedly up and down your arm. “Maybe,” he agreed, his voice low and relaxed. He leaned down and pressed. A kiss to the top of your head, the lingering scent of his cologne mixing with the alcohol and the remnants of your evening. There was something about him when he drank, how it loosened his edges and made him playful—more willing to let go.

The car pulled up to the curve, and he opened the door for you, his hand resting on the small of your back as you slid into the backseat. Once inside, the tension that had been building all night felt even more intense in the confined space. The driver asked for your destination, and Sidney gave him the address. As the car started moving, the city lights flashing by in a blur, Sid’s hand slid higher up you lead, his thumb brushing the hem of your dress, dangerously close to where you wanted him most. Your breath caught, and you shot him a warning glance, but it was half-hearted at best. The anticipation becoming unbearable, the slow build from dinner now reaching a point where you weren’t sure you could wait much longer,

“You’re killing me,” you whispered, leaning into him as his hand continued its tortuous path along your thigh.

His grin was pure mischief as he leaned closer, his lips brushing your ear. “Just getting started babe.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine, your body responding instantly to the promise behind them. You pressed your thighs together, trying to keep some control, but Sidney wasn’t having it. His hand slipped between your legs, fingers brushing over the thin fabric of your panties, and you bit back a moan, your hand shooting out to grip his arm.

He chuckled softly, his lips grazing your neck as he whispered, “You’ve been teasing me all night. I think it’s time for some payback, eh?”

You were about to respond when the car hit a red light, and the driver turned around, asking you if you wanted the music to be louder. It was a surprising interruption, pulling you momentarily out of the haze Sidney had you in.

”No, we’re good,” Sid says, his voice steady, though you could feel like tension could beneath the surface. His hand stayed where it was, pressing lightly against you, a silent reminder of what was to come.

The light turned green, and the car started moving again, the city slipping away as you headed toward home. His hand stayed on you, a constant maddening pressure that kept you on the edge of losing all control.

You turned your head slightly, your lips brushed against his ear as you whispered, “I can’t wait until we get home.”

His hand tightened on your thigh, his eyes darkening as he shot you a sidelong glance. “Neither can I.”

When you finally pulled up to the house, Sidney paid the driver quickly, practically pulling you out of the car and up to the door. Once inside, the quiet calm of the house wrapped around you guys like a blanket. The tension from the night was still there, simmering beneath the surface.

The door closed behind you with a soft click, you kicked your shoes off, tossing your coat on a chair, while Sidney lingered by the door, watching you. And you could feel his gaze on your back, heavy and intense, and it made your pulse quicken. You grabbed a glass of water, taking a sip before holding one out to him. “Want some?”

Sid shook his head, his lips twitching into a smile. “Not really thirsty.” He set the glass down, without taking a sip, his steps slow and deliberate as he crossed the room toward you, “I’m more interested in something else right now.”

The silence in the house was immediately drowned out by the heavy sound of breathing. Sidney had barely let you cross the threshold before he was on you—his hands gripping at your hips with a force that sent sparks through your body.There was an urgency between you, a raw need simmering just beneath the surface, set free by the alcohol still buzzing through your veins.

He pressed you against the wall, his lips crashing into yours in a kiss that was as much teeth as it was tongue, hungry, and desperate. You moaned into his mouth, your hands already threading through his hair, tugging him closer as he ground his hips into you. The hard length of him pressed against your stomach, a delicious reminder of what was to come.

“I’ve been thinking about this all night,” he murmured against your lips,his voice low and ragged, sending shivers down your spine. His hands slid below your waist, fingers slipping beneath the hem of your dress, teasing the soft skin of your thighs.

You gasped, your breath catching as his fingers brushed against your soaked panties, the pressure just enough to make you ache for more. “I need you so bad.”

He groaned into your mouth, his hand still between your legs, fingers pushing your panties to the side as he teased your entrance with the tip of his finger. The slickness made him moan, the sound loan and guttural. “You’re so wet already, baby,” he grunted, his voice dripping with satisfaction as his fingers slid inside you, two at once, stretching you just right.

Your head fell back against the wall as he began to pump his finger in and out, the rhythm slow and torturous. The sound of your wetness filled the air between you, that soft, obscene squelch that had you clenching around his fingers, wanting more.

”Sid—fuck, baby,” you moaned, your hips moving against his hand, chasing that friction as your body heated under his touch. “I need you.”

He chuckled softly, his breath hot against your ear as his fingers curled inside you, hitting that perfect spot that made you cry out. “Not yet.”

Your breath came out in shaky gasps as his thumb pressed against your clit, circling in time with the thrusts of his fingers. You could feel the orgasm building inside you, hot and coiled tight, but Sidney wasn’t letting you go that easily. Every time you got close, he slowed, pulling you back from the edge, leaving you panting and trembling in his arms.

“God, I love watching you like this,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire as he pulled his hand away, leaving you on the verge of begging for more. “So desperate for me. So needy, hm?”

Without another word,he grabbed your hand, pulling you toward the couch. He was unbuttoning his shirt as you went, his chain catching the light as it dangled from his neck. You were too far gone to care about where he was dropping his clothes, your eyes focused solely on the way his abs flexed with each movement, how the thin line of his chain glistened with the dim light, practically taunting you.

By the time he pulled you into his lap, both of you had shed your clothes, the fabric discarded carelessly on the floor. He sat back, his legs spread wide as he looked at you, eyes dark with lust, his lips still swollen and red from your kiss, his dick, hard and ready, pressed against your stomach, the tip already glistening with precum as you straddled him.

Your hands moved on their own, sliding down your body as you ground against him, the friction of his cock against your wetness sending shivers of pleasure through you. You moaned softly, your fingers trailing over your breasts, fondling them as Sidney watched you through half-lidded eyes.

“You’re so fucking hot,” Sidney groaned, his hands moving to your hips as he guided you over him, his length sliding between your folds, teasing you entrance. “I want to feel you, baby. I want to fuck you so hard, you wont be able to walk tomorrow.”

”Wait,” he whispered, his voice rough and teasing. “You know what we should do?”

You paused, your breathing heavy as you looked down at him, your heart racing. “What?” You whispered breathlessly.

His grin widened, his hand sliding up your side, his thumb brushing against the curve of your breast. He leaned in, his lips barely grazing your ear, “We should record this. I want to remember this.”

His words sent a shockwave of heat straight through your core, your breath catching as the idea took hold. The thought of being recorded, of watching yourself ride him, was so dirty, so intoxicating, you couldn't help but bite your lip in excitement. Your heart pounded, the pulse between your legs growing even stronger as you leaned back to look at him.

”You really want to record this?” You asked, your voice trembling with a mix of anticipation and arousal. The idea was thrilling, dangerous, and it made your entire body buzz with need.

His eyes locked on yours, his expression serious but filled with desire. “Yeah,” he whispered, his hands sliding down to your hips again. “I want to watch it over and over again. I want to see how good you look on top of me.”

Your body responded to his words before you could even think. “Fuck yes,” you reached for his phone on the coffee table, your fingers trembling. Sidney was already trailing his lips down your neck, his breath sending goosebumps over your skin. He had that hungry look in his eyes again—the kind that told you he wasn’t going to make this easy. You fumbled with the phone, trying to unlock it as his mouth moved lower, kissing the sensitive spot just above your collarbone. His hands never left your hips, kneading and gripping as you stayed sat on top, trying to balance the need to move against him with the task of setting up the camera.

”Sid,” you breathed, your voice shaky as you finally got the camera app open. But the moment the phone was in your hand, he was pulling you closer, his lips pressing wet open-mouthed kisses up the curve of your neck and jaw. The way he groaned against your skin made it almost impossible to focus. “Fuck,” you whispered, your head tilting back as his teeth grazed your skin. Teasing you as he began to slowly rock your hips again.

”C’mon, baby,” he murmured against your skin, his voice thick and low. His lips found yours again, and you melted into the kiss, losing yourself in the heat of his mouth and the way his tongue slid against yours. You managed to pull away just enough to set the phone down on the arm of the sofa, trying to angle it to capture you both. But Sidney was relentless. His hands roamed over your body, tugging you back down to him, your legs spreading wider over his lap as he continued to kiss you, his lips trailing along your jaw, down your neck, and back to your mouth again. The phone slipped from your grasp and teetered for a moment before falling back onto the cushion.

”Sid, baby, I’m trying to set this up,” you gasped, your breath ragged as you reached for the phone again, but his hands were quick, pulling you back to him with a teasing smirk.

“Oh yeah?” He breathed against your lips. “I don’t think I can wait any longer.”

Just as you positioned the phone, he caught your lips again, his kiss more urgent now, demanding. You groaned into his mouth, almost dropping the phone as you lost yourself in the feeling of him. “Sidney,” you gasped, pulling back just enough to place the phone back in position. You quickly hit record, your breathing coming in quick, shallow-bursts as you looked down at him, eyes heavy-lidded with lust.

”There,” you whispered, barely able to focus. “It’s recording.”

His eyes flashed with darkness as his hands gripped your waist, picking up right where you left off. “Fucking finally,” he growled, his voice dripping with need. “You ready for this, baby? I’m going to ruin you.”

You moaned at his words, your nails digging into his shoulder as you lifted your hips, positioning him at your entrance. Your eyes locked on his as the head of his cock nudged inside, stretching you open as you slowly sank down, taking him inch by inch. He leaned forward slightly, his lips barely bushing against the exposed skin of your chest, your chest heaving in anticipation. “I could stare at you all night.”

The sensation was overwhelming, the stretch burning in the best way as Sidney filled you completely. You felt every ridge, every vain of his dick as he buried himself inside you, the delicious fullness making you gasp. “Fuck, you’re so tight,” he groaned his hands gripping your hips so hard you were sure there would be bruises tomorrow. “You feel so fucking good.” Your walls clenched tightly around him, unwilling to let go.

You could only whimper in response, your head falling forward as you began to move, rolling your hips slowly, savoring the feel of him deep inside you. The rhythm was slow at first, your bodies moving together in a hypnotic dance, the tension building with each thrust.

Sid groaned beneath you, his hands tightening on your hips, as he thrust up to meet your movements, his cock hitting that perfect spot inside you that made your breath catch. His chain, cool against your heated skin, swayed with every movement, brushing against your chest as you leaned in to kiss him.

“Holy fuck,” he whispered,his voice low and rough as he buried his face in your neck, his breath ragged against your skin. The vibration of his voice sent a jolt of electricity through your body, and you couldn't help the moan that escaped your lips, your hands fisting in his hair as you rocked against him.

Your body responded to every movement, every shift of his hips, the slow drag of his length as he pulled out, and the deep, satisfying thrust as he slid back in. Each time he filled you, the fullness made you gasp, your body trembling as the pressure built inside you. You could feel his chest rising and falling rapidly beneath you, his breath coming in short gasps as he watched you, the intensity of his gaze giving you goosebumps.

”Look at you,” he mumbled, his voice thick with desire as he shifted, focusing on the way your body moved over him. “So beautiful. I could watch you all night.” His words sent a rush of heat through you, and you couldn't help the way your body responded, clenching tighter as you rode him, slow and steady, savoring every second.

The sounds of your bodies moving together filled the room—the wet, squelch of your pussy, the systemic slap of skin against skin as Sidney thrust up into you, and the soft breathless moans that escaped your lips as you both neared the edge of release. The knowledge that there was a camera filming every moment, capturing the raw heat between you for him to watch later, was intoxicating.

Just as your body began to tremble on the edge, Sid sensed it—he always knew when you were close. But he wasn’t ready to let you go over the edge just yet. He could feel the way your body was tightening around him, so close to release, but instead of giving in, he closed his movements. His movements became relaxed, deep, his pace deliberately drawn out as he shifted.

You whine in protest, your hands scrambling to hold onto him, but he chuckled softly, lips brushing against your ear, “Not yet, baby.”

Without pulling out of you, Sidney shifted, gently guiding you backward,lowering you onto the couch, with a firm but tender grip. His hands cradled your back as you melted into the cushions, your legs wrapped around him, keeping him buried inside. The change in position was seamless, so smooth that it left your breath catching in your throat. And even though he hadn’t left your body for a second, the feeling of being underneath him now, with his full weight hovering over you, reignited the fire that had been simmering between your hips.

”You’re so fucking beautiful,” he breathed, his eyes roaming over your body, dark and hungry as he took you in.

He paused for a moment, not moving, just watching you. He leaned on one forearm beside your head, using the other hand to gently caress the curve of your waist, his touch feather-light as he traced the contours of your body. His eyes followed his fingers, lingering on every part of you—the swell of your breasts, rising and falling with each shaky breath; the smooth expanse of your stomach, slick with a sheen of sweat; the way your thighs pressed against his hips, trembling slightly with anticipation.

You could feel him inside you, still hard and thick, but he wasn’t moving, not yet. He was teasing you with the stillness, making you crave it even more. The tension was unbearable, the ache between your legs almost too much to handle, and you squirm underneath him, desperate for him to move, to give you more.

”Sid-“ you whimpered, your voice shaky as you gazed up at him. Your hand slid up his chest, your fingers brushing over the hard ridges of his abs before settling on his shoulders, gripping him tightly as you tried to pull him closer. But he didn’t budge. He stayed still, his gaze locked on yours as he dipped his head down, capturing your lips in a slow, lingering kiss. His chain brushed against your skin as he kissed you, cool metal contrasting with the heat of his body, the soft clink of it against your collarbone was hypnotizing.

When he finally pulled back, his lips hovered just inches from yours, his breath warm on your skin, “I’m gonna take my time with you.” His words sent a shiver down your spine, the promise of what was left to come making your core clench around him involuntarily. Sidney felt it, and a soft groan escaped his lips, his control slipping for just a moment as his hips instinctively bucked forward. He caught himself though, steadying his breath, and with a smirk, he began to move again—slowly this time, each thrust deliberate and controlled.

Your heart pounded in your chest, every nerve in your body on fire as he held you there, immobile beneath him, your legs trembling as he spread them wide. Out of the corner of his eye, Sid caught sight of his phone, still propped on the arm of the sofa, the camera lens aimed directly at the two of you. He had almost forgotten about it in the heat of the moment, but now, the thought sent a wave of heat through him. His breathing hitched slightly, as the realization sank in—every moment of this really was being recorded.

A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth as he looked down at you, his lips brushing over the shell of your ear. “You remember the camera?” He murmured, his voice low. “It’s still recording us.”

Your eyes flickered open, a soft gasp escaping your lips as the realization hit you, and you looked toward the phone with a breathless smile. “Oh my god,” you whispered, biting your lip as your body trembled beneath him. “That’s so fucking hot.”

Sid chuckled, his hand trailing up your thigh as he reached for the phone. Pushing deeper, he shifted his weight onto one arm and grabbed the phone from its perch, his abs flexing as he moved. He repositioned it on the coffee table, angling it so that it captured the entire scene from the the side—his body hovering above yours, your legs spread around his waist, every inch of your connection visible.

His hands slid under your thighs, lifting them higher, adjusting the angle so he could thrust deeper, his movements now quicker and more intense. The change in position made you gasp, the sensation of him filling you completely almost overwhelming as he hit that perfect spot inside you again.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his lips grazing your neck as he buried his face in your hair, his lips brushing your ear. “That feel good?”

”So good,” you moaned, your fingers tangling in his hair as you pulled him closer, your lips meeting in a messy, desperate kiss. The taste of him—of whiskey and need—was a thrill, and you could feel your body trembling with the intensity of it all, your muscles tightening as the pleasure built again.

Sidney’s hips rocked against yours, the rhythm deliberate, his cock dragging along every nerve inside you with a precision that made your toes curl. The wet sounds of him moving inside you filled the air, the slap of his thighs against yours punctuated by the soft moans escaping both of you.

”Look at me,” he breathed, pulling back slightly so he could see your face. His hand cupped your cheek, thumb brushing over your swollen lower lip as he stared down at you with an intensity that made your heart race. “I want to see your face when you finish.”

Your breath caught at his words, your body shaking as you looked up at him, your fingers gripping his biceps, feeling the tension in his muscles as he held himself above you. His arms were strong, veins bulging under the skin, the sight of him—sweat-slicked, muscles rippling with every movement, his eyes dark with lust—had you swinging on the edge of release.

You could feel him getting closer. It was the way his thrust had lost its steadiness, becoming more erratic, how his breaths were starting to come out heavier, rougher against your skin. His hips, though still driving deep and slow, were grinding harder into you, as if he were trying to get even deeper, to claim more of you. The muscles in his arms tensed, his grip on your waist tightening as his finger dug into the soft skin of your hips, holding you down as he fucked you deeper into the cushions.

Sidney groaned, the sound low and guttural, his head dropping to rest against your shoulder as he pumped into you with an unrelenting force. His chest pressed against yours, the heat of his skin mixing with yours, slick with sweat. Every thrust made your breasts bounce against him, your nipples brushing against his firm chest, sending jolts of pleasure through your body. The friction between you was almost overwhelming, the sensation of his hard body pinning you down, his abs tensing and flexing against you with every movement, making you feel every ridge of muscle against your sensitive skin.

“Fuck, baby,” his voice tight, strained with effort of holding back. His mouth was at your ear, breath hot as his teeth grazed your earlobe. “You’re taking me so well—so tight. I’m not gonna last.”

Your body responded instinctively to his words, your hips rising to meet his thrusts, grinding against him in desperate need. You could feel the way his cock twitched inside you, how his movements were becoming more urgent, each thrust harder and more deliberate. Every motion made your legs tremble, your back arching off the couch as your nails dragged down his back, leaving pink trails in their wake.

His chain swung between you, catching the light with every thrust, the metal brushing against your skin and occasionally grazing your lips. The cool sensation of it against your heated skin makes you shiver, your breath barely leaving your throat as it dragged across your bottom lip, slipping into your mouth for the briefest moment before sliding away again.

Without warning, one of his hands slid up from your hip, rough fingers skimming your side until they wrapped gently, around your throat. His thumb brushed over the side of your neck, feeling the quickened pulse beneath your skin, gasping, your body tightening involuntarily around him as the pressure of his hand sent shockwaves of pleasure straight to your core,

”So fucking pretty like this,” he murmured, his eyes dark as they locked onto yours. “You’re mine.” His other hand grabbed at your ass, squeezing hard as he slammed into you, the sound of skin meeting skin was even louder. Your body shook with every impact. You were overwhelmed, consumed by the feel of him—his cock stretching you open, the weight of his body pressing you down, the rough grip of his hands grounding you to the moment.

His breath grew more erratic, chest heaving as he thrust into you, his cock twitching inside you with every stroke. His grip on your ass tightening, pulling you against him with an urgency that told you he was close. His mouth hovered just above yours, the cool weight of his chain slipping between your lips, your tongue brushing against it as you tried to catch your breath. The way his eyes locked on yours, how his gaze flicked between the chain and your flushed face, made your pulse race, your body aching for release.

”I’m so close, baby,” he groaned, his voice thick with need as his hips bucked hard against yours.

You were too far gone to respond properly, lost in the waves of pleasure that kept building with each thrust. All you could do was curse, your nails digging into his back, your thighs trembling against his hips. You tried to speak, but it came out as breathless gasp.

”Fuck—I’m gonna—I’m gonna fucking come.” You panted, your voice shaky, barely able to get the words out between gasps for air. Your entire body was tensing, the pressure inside you folding tight with every deep stroke, his name falling from your lips in broken whispers.

”Sid—fuck—I’m gonna come. I’m—fuck!”

His eyes darkened, his jaw clenching as he thrust harder, deeper, pushing you closer to the edge. “Come for me, baby,” he rasped, his voice strained as he held himself back, waiting for you to unravel beneath him. “Come for me—let me feel it.”

The intensity of his words, the way his chain clinked against your teeth, and the sheer force of his thrusts pushed you over the edge. Your orgasm hit you like a tidal wave, crashing through you with a force that had you crying out, your body trembling beneath him, Your muscles clenched around his cock, milking him with each pulse, your legs locked around his waist as you rode out every last wave of pleasure.

His eyes stayed locked on yours, watching every second as you came undone beneath him. His chain slipped between your lips again, the cool metal catching between your lips as your body shook with each spasm. The sight of it—the way you took it in your mouth, how your lips parted around it as you moaned his name—had him losing his mind. His grip on your throat tightened enough to make your heart pound even harder.

He couldn’t hold back any longer, The sight of you, the feel of you squeezing him so tightly as you came, was too much. His hips stuttered, his chest pressing flush against yours, his abs flexed, sweat slicking his skin as he dove into you one last time, his cock buried deep inside as he let go.

“Shit—I’m gonna come,” he spat, his voice thick and desperate. His hips jerked hard against yours, and he slammed himself into you, his forehead pressed against yours as he came, hot and deep inside you. His cock pulsed, spilling a thick load into you as his body trembled, the pleasure rolling through him in heavy waves.

His eyes never left yours, his gaze locked onto you as he watched you ride out your orgasm, his release spilling further into you with every rough thrust. The weight of him above you, the way his body shuddered with each spam, only heightened your pleasure, making you tremble beneath him as you milked him dry.

He groaned, his breath coming in ragged gasps, his grip on your throat loosening as he collapsed against you, his body spent but still connected to you in every way, his cock still throbbing inside you. His face nuzzled against your neck, placing soft kisses on your damp skin savoring the moment as your hands played with the damp hair at the nape of his neck.

Then it hit him—the camera.

“Jesus,” he muttered, the low sound of his voice pulling you out of your daze. His chest rumbled against yours, his hand sliding down to grip your hip as he slowly shifted his weight, sitting back just enough to reach for the phone perched on the coffee table.

His other hand still gripped your thigh, holding you open, connected, as he grabbed the phone with a smirk. “Gotta finish this off,” he whispered, the phone now in his hand as he leaned back, keeping the camera trained on where you were still joined. Your body trembled under him, still sensitive, still buzzing from the orgasm that had wrecked you just moments ago. You felt the slow grab of his cock as he began to pull out, teasing you with the movement, making you gasp softly. The sensation gives you goosebumps, the emptiness leaving you aching even though you were completely spent.

Sid focused the camera on his cock, still half-hard as he slowly pulled it free, glistening from both your releases. The tip of him was coated in a mixture of his cum and your wetness, his hand gently wrapping around his base as he drew out the moment, making sure the camera captured every inch of him sliding out of you.

A soft moan escaped your lips as his cock slipped free, the wet sound echoing between your bodies. As soon as he was out, you felt it—the slow, messy seep of both of your releases spilling from you. It was slow at first, a thick trail of white slipping from your swollen pussy, mixing with your slick as it dripped down your thighs, pooling on the couch beneath you.

Sidney kept the camera trained there, watching as more of his cum leaked from you, his voice a low murmur of appreciation as he recorded the sight. “Fuck, look at that.” His thumb brushing against the slick skin of your inner thigh, “Look how messy you are—you look so good like this.”

The heat in his voice, that possessive edge, made you pulse again, even though you were completely spent. He zoomed in slightly, focusing on the slow drip of his release slipping out of you, spreading over your thighs. His free hand moved down to your ass, giving it a firm squeeze, as if to emphasize the ownership behind his words. You reached down, fingers brushing lightly against your entrance, feeling the warmth of both of your releases still coating your skin.

“God, you’re so fucking perfect,” he groaned, shifting the camera again to catch your face, your lips still parted, your eyes heavy-lidded with exhaustion and pleasure. “Look at you. So fucking beautiful, so full of me.”

Sidney shifted closer again, his hand slipping up to your stomach as he leaned over, the weight of him pressing against you in a familiar, grounding way. The camera lingered for a few more seconds, capturing every last second of that raw, intimate aftermath before he set it aside.

His body collapsed onto yours, both of you still slick with sweat and desire, but this time the moment felt softer, more tender. His lips brushed against your forehead, and you could feel the rapid beat of his heart calming as he pressed against you.

“That was fucking insane,” he whispered, his voice a low rasp, filled with both exhaustion and satisfaction. His fingers threaded through your hair as his lips ghosted over your skin, the weight of the moment sinking in between you both.

You gave a soft laugh, your body relaxing beneath him, the feel of his warmth settling into you. “We really made a mess, huh?” you teased, your voice barely more than a breath.

Sidney chuckled, his chest rumbling against yours. “Yeah,” he murmured, his lips brushing yours, “but we made a fucking masterpiece. Guess we’ll have to watch this again later,” he suggests, planting a kiss on your cheek. “Maybe even make a sequel.”

#sidney crosby #sidney crosby fic #sidney crosby imagine #nhl #nhl imagine #nhl players #pittsburgh penguins #sidney crosby smut #sidney crosby x reader #sidney crosby rpf #angelsuecultwrites

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causenessus · 2 months ago

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for your event, can I request suna with ⭐️ and 🍳? :D

Almond Butter. | Suna Rintarou

suna x f!reader

written in 2nd pov and it tore me to shreds

prompts from 1k followers event -> ⭐ -> insomnia & 🍳 -> cooking

"you've adored me before, oh my good looking boy." from good looking (stripped) by suki waterhouse

word count: 1.1k words

notes: fluff <333 i can't help talking about how hot and sexy this man is everytime i write for him i am so in love with him i am barking from him HHHHH— suna being a good boyfriend and brother!!! i love this man to bits and pieces <3 1K WRITING EVENT IS BACK IN SESSION!!! AND SO AM I!! NESS!! FOR A SINGLE DAY!! WITH CRAPPY WRITING!! i'm obsessed with him and him only using petnames and also i see this as a scenario being quite early into your relationship with him <3 and basically this being the first time he says "i love you" to you (without realizing it) and you realizing you love him (and being too sleepy to say it)(this makes more sense once you read the drabble)

mango anon, if you see this <3 this is us <3 this is me making u almond butter toast <3

cw: food, talk about food chemistry and how your brain converts food to melatonin using carbs yay science! work is not exactly proofread

you’ve been waiting in your living room for the past 10 minutes.

well, actually, you’ve been waiting for the past two hours to go to sleep but your brain won't let you, no matter how tired you feel.

finally giving up any chance of falling asleep soon in your bed, you let the screen of your phone blind you as you shoot a quick text to your boyfriend:

y/n : taro are you awake? i can’t sleep :( insomnia’s kicking my ass again

you collapse back onto your pillow, throwing your phone haphazardly to your side with a groan. almost immediately, your head pops back up again at the sound of a buzz, and you blindly reach for your phone, looking at its screen.

rin <3 : yeah i am

rin <3 : give me 10 min

you weren’t entirely sure what he had meant by that; if he was busy, and would reply again in 10 minutes or if he was coming over.

you hoped it was the latter, but you'd find out soon enough. in the meantime, you moved to your living room, curled up on your couch under a heavy blanket, dimly lit by the warm light of a nearby lamp as you watched the seconds go by on your phone.

you always slept better with him, whether he was holding you in his arms or he was just simply in the room with you, it felt nice to be in his presence. just the thought of him was slowly making your eyes start to droop before the sound of the door unlocking made you perk up.

there he was, gently swinging your door open, a white plastic bag in hand. his yellow eyes fell on you as you looked him up and down, obviously judging his poor taste in clothing (sweats and a t-shirt) despite it being the middle of winter.

“hi baby,” he whispers, kicking off his shoes before immediately making a beeline towards you. you were peeking out from over the arm of your couch, and he knelt on the floor at the side of the couch, chin propped against the arm of it where you were, leaning in towards your face. there was a smile on his own as he spoke, “don’t fall asleep now, i just got here.”

you can only sigh quietly in response, happy to finally see him. “can’t help it,” you mumble, “‘was thinking of you.”

his smile only grows at your words, and he presses a chaste kiss to your forehead, letting a hand run down the side of your face, caressing it carefully. “you’re cute when you’re tired, doll,” he teases as you lean into his touch, too tired to even respond. “at least let me take care of you before you fall asleep though, yeah? i went to the store for you after all.”

“you didn’t have to buy me anything,” you whisper, reaching an arm out to him, trying to get him to join you on the couch.

he grabs your hand, rubbing a thumb lovingly over the back of it, but doesn’t let you pull him down, “of course i’ll buy you things, y/n. i love you. can i make you something to eat?”

you hum in thought, thinking about if you really want to allow him to move you, but when he tugs gently at your arm, you get up (begrudgingly) bringing your blanket with you to the kitchen.

you rest your arms on the counter you’re sitting at, lazily watching his figure move through your kitchen, pulling items out of his bag. “what’re you doing?” you eventually question, eyeing his selection of groceries with confusion. the jug of milk you can understand, but not the jar of what you assume to be jam and a nut butter.

“‘making you toast,” he answers, rummaging through your drawers for a knife, “my sister used to have trouble sleeping sometimes too, and she’d always wake me up instead of our mom so i had to figure out what helped.”

“and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches are supposed to help you fall asleep?” you ask, sitting up to rest your head on your hand as you watch him pull a plate from your cupboard.

the bread he dropped into your toaster pops back up as he corrects you, “almond butter. my sister hates peanut butter, and rightfully so. almonds are better.” he continues talking as he places the toasted bread on the plate he grabbed, “i had to google what kind of foods you should eat when you can’t sleep and it’s the first suggestion i saw. the almonds have something in them that gets converted to melatonin using the carbs from the bread and jam, or something like that.”

you nod along like you really care about whatever science he’s rambling about when really, all you can pay attention to is how nice his voice is. ever since he entered your apartment, you’ve realized how much he was all you needed to sleep. you’re slowly getting more attached to him and the longer you date him, the more sure you are that you love him, too.

he slips into the seat next to you, sliding the plate of toast over to you. you mumble a small thanks, biting into the sandwich before opting to lean against him, your head resting on his shoulder while the rest of your body is wrapped in the heavy blanket you brought from your couch.

you hum in satisfaction, deciding that maybe rintarou was right about whatever science is behind the contents of this sandwich, or maybe he just needs to research the effect he has on you. you’re sure just being in his presence is sending melatonin straight to your brain–or however he said that works. “rin,” you hum, eyes closed as you remain leaning against him.

“what is it, sweetheart?” he asks. one of his arms has moved to wrap around your back, holding you close while one of his fingers grazes the skin of your arm, drawing lazy circles onto it.

“will you stay the night, too?” you ask, taking another bite of the sandwich.

he can’t help but smile, watching you snuggle up against him, scooting your chair and plate closer to him, closing the gap between you two. “of course, love, if that’s what you want,” he whispers, pressing a kiss into your hair.

you nod in response to the statement, holding up your sandwich to his mouth for him to take a bite of. “you're good at making sandwiches, but i think all i need is you to fall asleep,” you mumble tiredly and he chuckles.

“if you fall asleep here, i’ll have to carry you to your bed, you know,” he warns, but you're already drifting in and out of sleep, the plate on the table in front of you both now empty, besides a few crumbs of bread.

“that’s okay,” you try to say, fighting a losing battle against the sleep that's slowly overtaking you. “you can do it,” your last words of encouragement make his heart twist before your head lolls slightly, and he knows you’ve knocked out.

taglist: @akaakeis @wyrcan @daisy-room @eggyrocks @cheriisae @alexithemiyatic @kameyyy @iiwaijime @chaotic-neutral-ig @bakery-anon @kakeru-eem

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choccy-milky · 3 days ago

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Im here to confess that my brain has a genuine reaction each time I see a drawing of Sebastian with anything black around his wrist. Idk why but I love it when he has a watch or when he’s wearing those black bracelet things

LMAOO SAME ANON...idk why this is, but it just is😩 (i blame rodrick heffley)

@writingsoftarnishedsilver aw THANK YOUU!! im glad you like my art and that you've joined the collective brainrot here on tumblr BAHAH🥰 ik theres been some hubbub lately but the fandom is rly nice and welcoming i promise!!🙏i hope u have a good time here and dont feel intimidated or scared or anything!🥹💖

@kaviary-blog THANK YOU MY SWEETIE DARLING😭💖💖ILL KEEP BEING UR BUDDY AS LONG AS I BREATHE😤u couldnt get rid of me if u wanted to.... but ty again for the positivity and support this was so sweet and i am sending all of that energy back at u!!🫵🫵🫵🫵💖💖💖

@fulminare-within-her-soul aw THANK YOUUU that means so much especially coming from another writer!!🥹💖 AND YES OF COURSE CLORA WOULD LOVE TO AND ID BE HONOURED!!! nobody has to ask permission to draw clora EVER. im fr, yall could seriously draw her doing ANYTHING and id be like... hell yea, thats my girl, look at her😎👍 bahaha THANK YOU AGAIN AND YOU HAVE A WONDERFUL NIGHT/DAY AS WELL💖💖💖

THANK YOU ALL IM GLAD U LIKE MY ART!!🥹😭💖 @dariliondar-blog the program i use is clip studio paint and the brush i use (for lineart) is a clumsy pen from the assets store! ive been using this pen since the very beginning/for all of my lineart, i just love it idk, its easy to control and i like the texture, tho it can be a bit rough/messy. though another lineart pen i started dabbling with recently that i really like is bulky g-pen, i used it for my 9 page comic and really like it!! for colouring though i use different brushes literally EVERY time bc im so inconsistent/indecisive 😭so i cant help you there im sorry BAHAH 🙏

#also speaking of drawing clora im gonna be making a fanart tag soon so that they arent just lost forever in my blog!!#probs gonna make the tag choccyfanart or something but that sounds so conceited lol BUT I CANT THINK OF A BETTER NAME #choccfart??#perfect #ask #also the anon who said u wanna be like me when u grow up THATS SO CUTE LOL #but no u dont trust me........unless u wanna be a hermit loser in which case live ur truth!!!

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todayisawthewhxlewxrld · 10 months ago

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Ok. I have a request took me a lot of courage to finally request and shat myself a couple times but anyway! A one shot where choso lives in y/ns dorm with them and he was like doing his hair and kept messing up and gave up and started crying (I FEEL LIKE THATS SOMETHING HED DO THE POOR BOY:() thennnn y/n walks in their dorm and sees him crying and then comforts him and does his hair for him!!

IF THAT AIN'T LOVE THEN I DON'T KNOW WHAT LOVE IS!

synopsis// choso is having an off day.

➚ pairing// choso x gn!reader ➚ word count// 1.4k

contents// frustrated/sad choso? idk just some hurt/comfort in a way! fluff?? could be read as either platonic or romantic doesnt really matter i supposeeee? i think it kinda reads more romantic tho

notes// anon ur actual fucking MIND. i was moved. literally right after reading ur request i opened up my notes and went to fucking WORKKK!!!! anyway sorry its so kinda all over the place but i hope u like it and it lived up to ur expectations!! n also sorry to everyone else for posting a oneshot mid smau its short n cute okay (AND ITS FUCKING CHOSO SO LIKE CMON???) i couldnt help myself !! also the title is lyrics from cupid's chokehold by gym class heroes... okay bye!

Sharing a dorm with Choso was heavenly.

Because of your conflicting schedules, half the time, you rarely actually saw each other. But even when you did, he was the type of roommate to keep to himself; he has his side of the room, and you have yours. Of course, you two talked here and there; he was actually pretty nice company whenever you two were actually in the room at the same time. But more often than not, the only time you would see him was late at night when you were just getting in to go to sleep.

Either way, the point is, you never really saw him around much. Choso was always quick and effective, so by the time you would head back to your dorm after a few of your classes, he would just be heading out or have already left.

Usually, his alarm would go off an hour before his classes, which is ample time for him. He’s done his routine hundreds of times before—doing his hair and eyeliner is practically muscle memory, and at this point he's sure he could do it in his sleep. but not today, apparently. Today his alarm goes off late—half an hour late. Which Choso isn’t panicked by, only slightly frustrated, but it's fine. That still leaves him another half an hour to get ready, so there's still plenty of time given that it only takes him 10–15 minutes to get ready, so it's fine. Everything is fine; he repeats it in his head like a mantra, like if he thinks it and says it enough, he’ll actually believe it.

Choso quickly dresses, then sits at his desk, where a little mirror sits. He sighs as he flips on a lamp and grabs his eyeliner. He doesn’t even have to think about it, instinctively taking the cap off and bringing it to his eye, only for it to crumble as it meets his waterline. Choso cusses under his breath as he blinks, attempting to get whatever fell into his eye out. When that doesn't work, he rubs his eye, only for it to spread eyeliner all across his eye and cheek. He groans, grabbing a cloth to wipe it off with, and once his face is clean, he doesn't even bother trying with his eyeliner again—looking at the time, he’s already wasted more than he wanted doing that. He’ll just do his hair and leave, or else he’ll be late.

Choso stills for a moment, forcing himself to take a deep breath to try and calm the nerves and frustration simmering beneath his skin—it's fine. He nods. Now somewhat calmer, he grabs his hair ties and gets to work… only for one of them to break as he’s trying to put his hair through it. Choso stares at himself in the mirror, eyes narrowed and swallowing harshly, as he desperately tries to ignore the rising heat going to his cheeks.

Whatever.

It's fine.

He’ll just do the other side of his hair...only for the same thing to happen. Choso can actively feel his heart racing—it's pounding against his chest and ringing in his ears—and he’s already too far gone to notice or even stop the tears from falling down his cheeks. He doesn’t really know why he’s actually crying, if he’s being honest. It’s not like this is the end of the world; he knows that, yet he can't stop himself. Too many things have gone wrong, and he’s barely woken up. First, his alarm goes off late, which isn't the most horrible thing within itself, but then his eyeliner crumbles and gets in his eye, and when he tries to wipe it away, it instead smears on his face. Then he rubs his face raw, trying to get it off, and now he can't do his fucking hair because his hair ties suddenly decided to disintegrate and snap in half.

He messily wipes at his tears and tries inhaling deeply for air in a feeble attempt to calm himself the tiniest bit down. It doesn't do anything. In fact, it makes things worse. His tears fall harder, and he’s choking in shallow breaths of air. If anyone walked in right this moment, they’d think something horrible happened, like one of his brothers died. and it's just his luck, or a very obvious lack thereof, when you walk in. Choso immediately starts scrambling to wipe his tears away and hide his face from you as you drop your things in shock—you hadn’t expected him to still be in the dorm, let alone be here crying.

“Holy shit, Choso, are you okay? What's wrong? Did something happen?” You panic, immediately running to his side.

He doesn’t say anything; he just takes in and lets out shaky breaths as he shakes his head, one arm outstretched to keep you at arm's length.

You frown and look around. For what? You’re not sure. Part of you thinks if you look hard enough, you'll find why he’s crying, but all you see are snapped hair ties, a crumbled, unsharpened eyeliner pencil, and a cloth full of eyeliner. That’s when it all starts to make sense. You smile softly at him, who's still hiding his red tear-stained face from you, before you grab his comb and a new pair of hair ties from his desk.

Choso doesn’t know what you're doing when he hears you shuffling around, and he refuses to meet your gaze, filled to the brim with embarrassment at having been caught crying, but his head involuntarily snaps up, looking at you through the mirror, when he feels you start to brush his hair. You're already staring back at him and flashing him a warm smile, not saying a word as you continue to detangle his hair.

“You don't have to do this,” he sniffles, finally calming down enough to say something.

"I know I don't," you shrug. "But I also know it sucks when it seems like nothing is working or going to plan, so..."

"I can do it myself-“

"Choso, just let me do this for you, please.”

He stares at you for a moment, studying your face as if trying to find something, and when he finds nothing but your soft eyes and willingness—your desire—to do this for him, he sighs and nods. You beam and gleefully get back to work on his hair, and Choso finds that he’s no longer embarrassed by being seen crying but rather by the fact he feels like a doll—but the worst part? It's kind of nice.

He likes having someone do this for him with no hesitation; he likes the way your fingers carefully rake through his hair to ensure there's no tangles even though you just combed it; he likes the way you don't tie the ponytails too tight like he usually does, which only results in a pounding headache he can't get rid of; he likes all of it.

He likes all of it so much so that he finds himself closing his eyes in complete bliss, drowning in your gentle touches. You poof up one of his ponytails a bit, ready to tell him you're done, when you look into the mirror and notice his eyes closed, looking like he’s in a whole other world. You can't fight your smile off as you play with his ponytail for a bit longer before slowly wrapping your arms around him and resting your head on his shoulder.

“What do you think?” You whisper, your breath softly fanning against his ear.

Choso opens his eyes, surprised to see you pretty much hugging him from behind, yet he doesn't hate it, not one bit. Too caught up about how much he does not hate this; he doesn't respond, and it makes you nervous.

“Sorry… I know they don't look exactly like how you usually do them, but-“

"No, no,” he cuts you off quickly. “They look amazing... Thank you, y/n...”

You smile, happy with his answer, as you untangle yourself from him and stand up. “You should head out now, Choso; you're late.”

He blinks, totally forgetting about class, and hurriedly stands up. "Right, thank you again,” is all he’s saying before rushing out the door.

You giggle slightly before yawning and making your way to your bed, ready for your usual nap, when Choso comes rushing back into the dorm again. You stare at him wide-eyed, and he simply stares back.

You furrow your eyebrows, confused, and are about to ask if he's okay when suddenly he blurts out:

"I wouldn’t mind if you did my hair again.”

©TODAYISAWTHEWHXLEWXRLD

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pearlsoceanworld · 5 months ago

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If your requests are still open can I pls request nsfw aalto hcs with a female reader?🙏🙏 I love the way you wrote him in those hcs you posted!!

I am not good at writing nsfw butt I will write for aalto cuz he is my silly little princess<333

I didn't know if u wanted a sub reader or a Dom reader, so I did for both. I hope you like it, Anon

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥Warnings: sub and Dom dynamics for both aalto and reader, vibrator(for aalto), spanking(for both), oral(for both), light bandage? I think(for aalto), begging(for both), peging/dildo(for aalto), I think that's all sorry if I missed something 😅

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥Nicknames: princess, sir/daddy, slut, good boy

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ Minors don't interact ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

Firstly, this guy will tease you. it doesn't matter if you're in public, be it in some fancy restaurant or at the comfort of your home. This man will not stop teasing you. it's like his life mission to rile you up and make you beg for his cock or my personal favorite (peg him) fuck the daylights out of him but we will get to that later.

It's definitely a switch. I don't think he has a preference as long as it feels good, but if you are shy, he doesn't mind taking the lead. Will treat you like the best pillow princess. You don't even have to lift a finger he will take care of you, but in only one condition (what? you thought this guy would be a soft Dom without anything for him? Smh) you would have to beg him for it call him Sir (or daddy I personally prefer sir) tell him his cock is the best and no fucks you better than him and he will go down on you like no other. But if you're being a brat and not giving him what he wants, he is going to edge you until you cry and give in.

Will eat you out like it's the last meal on earth, definitely the type to rub your clit while eating you out. Has you screaming his name with how deep his toung is going inside you. By the time he is done with you, you're trembling from your 4th or 5th orgasm you don't even remember at this point.

His favorite position would be either be doggy style because he loves to spank your ass or missionary because he wants to see your face as you orgasm for nth time(bud definitely gets of your face, almost cums when you're eyes cross and drool slips out your face)

I think he likes cum either on your stomach or your back there is just something about him seed painting that makes him want to fuck you more (rip that pussy ig). Would call his princess or his slut there is no in-between with this man.

Will run you a bath for you with rubber ducks and bubbles for you to relax. He would give you the best massage and kisses, and after the bath, he would cuddle with you. He is clingy and would not let you go the entire night.

Now, as for readers who are more on the dominant side (dw I didn't forget about you guys), this guy (read slut) will rile you up to the point that you have to punish him. Will act like a brat no matter what!! Bend him over the counter and spank him hard and put some vibrator on his cock and he will cum in minutes but if your feeling extra cruel tie him up and put the vib at low settings and don't touch him or speed it up no matter how many times he whines and when he is about to cum after who knows how long turn it off and watch him cry and call you cruel for ruining his orgasm but one glare is enough for him stop whining and cry out sorrys that he would not tease you again(we all know its a lie) and to please let him cum.

If you feel nice enough, give him a hand job or blow job, and he will start moaning and whining like a pornstar you almost wanted to record him(maybe I should write about aalto & reader being a cam couple🤔?) But right now, you were focusing on making him cum oh and don't stop after one keep going milk him dry after cumming for the third time his 'please stops' would turn to 'more please... more' and who are you to deny him.

And if he is being extra braty, peg him use the biggest dildo and fuck his ass till he forgets his own name and is smiling and blabbering nonsense. Ride him till he is milked dry, and there are absolutely no thoughts behind his barley open eyes.

Make sure to untie and give him a glass of water and run a warm bath for him, and don't forget the rubber duckies cuddle him and pepper him with kisses and tell him that he was a good boy for you.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥Pearl's notes: I hope you guys liked this it was my writing smut for aalto. If it was ooc feel free to tell me

In aalto we thurst:33

#would you guys believe me if i said i got possed at 3am while writing this #when ever I read or write i act like a Victorian man who has seen ankles for the first time #wuthering waves x reader #wuwa x reader #aalto #aalto x reader #wuwa smut #aalto smut #wuthering waves smut

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hugs2doie · 2 years ago

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HI could u do when theyre clingy?? i love ur texts!

HIHI ANON!!! ofc !! also i didn’t do it in the text format cause it would be quiteeee long, also this is mixed with the dreamies if they want cuddles too? idk 😭 however i hope you like this and AAAAA THABK U SMMM

nct dream when they’re clingy !

pairing: bf!nctdream x gn!reader

genre: fluff

warning: none

𖦹 mark:

mark will give u little signals like hugging u more often that he would in a daily basis, hold ur hand etc and waits for ur reaction. if u are okay with it, he wouldn’t mind being more touchy and clingy. he would be flustered asking u stuff like “can u not leave the bed? i wanna stay with u like this a little longer” (prolly with some stutters too) and you just can’t say no. HOWEVER if you said no (i mean its kinda understandable, what if u were hungry or wanted to use the restroom) he would have a frown on his face and won’t say much about it, though you can still see the sadness in his eyes. but when you come back he will have that goofy (but cute 💔) giggle ☹️☹️ a clingy mark would probably mean a lazy day for the both of you.

𖦹 renjun

renjun would EXTRA nice to you and you’d just be like ???? like, how come he isnt roasting you AT LEAST twice?? you immediately understand why when he comes behind you while you were cooking (if you can cook😭) & wrap your hands around your waist & puts his head on your shoulder/the crook of your neck to ask how your day was. obviously, you’d literally melt from that, like c’mon, who wouldn’t? if you two were watching movies he’s tangle y’all’s legs & if you tried to get up he’d hold you closer and say smth like: “sit down, everything else can wait 🙄😒”.HE’D GET MOODY IF YOU WOULD STILL GET UP 😭😭 to the point where he’d ignore you,, but will get over it quickly cause he’s clingy & needs your attention. when you’d apologize he’d be like “okay fine ugh i’ll forgive you, just don’t do that again 😒”. a clingy renjun would mean that he wants to be the only thing (person) you see and focus at that moment.

𖦹 jeno

jeno would hold your hand quite often. he’d also give you lots of hugs and try to touch you in any way (ofc not sexual) while giving his significant eye smile to you. he would always try to be your side just to be around you. ofc you’d notice and give to him (as you should!!). however if you tried to tease him and pretend not to notice and go on with your day he’d get so sulky and wonders if the physical contact made you uncomfortable ☹️ once you see how he started to stop being clingy towards you, you’d quickly assure him that you’re teasing him and he’d smile & hug you again. if you’d get up and do smth he’d put his head on your shoulder and wait for you to finish also he would pretty much follow you like a puppy wherever you’d go. a clingy jeno would mean a puppy-like jeno (NOT LIKE A KINK THOUGH 😭).

𖦹 haechan

haechan would literally be STUCK like a glue to you. he would literally turn into a bear and not leave you alone for a second. it could go like : “babe i have to go” “no you dont” “you cant be gaslighting me haechan” “im not doing that, wdym?” LIKE HE WOULD NOT LET YOU LEAVEEE 😭 if you still MANAGED to leave, he’d be a whine mess and would keep on telling you to come back. if you wouldn’t be next to him for the next 10 seconds he’d get up and follow you around, like jeno, but he’d CLING into you till you get tired of it and go back to bed (or anywhere) to cuddle with him. HOWEVER HAECHAN MIGHT GIVE U AN ATTITUDE TOOSOMETIMES?? like when you would try to leave he’d probably scoff and tell you to not come back since you “clearly don’t love him” which if you ignored and left the room he would raise his voice so you could still hear and be like “wow the loml doesn’t even love me” or stuff like that 😭 i mean he obviously isn’t being serious, he just wants you to spend time with him esp when he needs it the most. a clingy haechan would mean an actual bear/koala haechan.

𖦹 jaemin

he’d probably give you a lot of kisses on your face while smiling it’d be soooo adorable 💔 he’d be kinda like jeno, following you around, but not like THAT much cause he’d understand if you’re busy and wait for you. i feel like clingy jaemin would be full of aegyo?? like if he would want smth he’d do aegyo in front of you 😭. all the time with you he’d be smiling ngl. i feel like if y’all would cuddle he’d like to put some cheesy romantic movie in the bg OOOR even music,, he’d be whispering you sweet stuff or compliments ugh i’m sick to my stomach 💔 i feel like jaemin would be the same if he’s clingy, but a bit more touchy. a clingy jaemin would mean a lovely dovely boyfriend (he always is but y’all know what i mean!).

𖦹 chenle

I FEEL LIKE CHENLES EGO WOULD MAKE IT HARD FOR YOU TO UNDERSTAND THAT HES CLINGY??? like he might not try to cling to you cause he’s afraid you’d tease him about it 😭😭 however he’d tell you to stop working or moving around the house and just chill with him. if you said no, he’d help you so you would finish your work or wtv you’re doing faster. once y’all r done & are chilling at the couch he’d do that cliché thing the men do in movies: he’d pretend to yawn/stretch and put his arm around your shoulder 😭😭 after that you understand what’s going on and just give in to him and give him your full attention. chenle would have a proud smirk on his face CAUSEEE YOU DIDNT TEASE HIMMM 💯 but if you did he’d tell you to go away (jokingly) which you obviously wouldn’t do, instead, you’d try to get closer to him (anddddd he’d be very happy even though he wouldn’t show it). a clingy chenle would mean a big ego chenle.

𖦹 jisung

HE’D BE ADORABLE STOP THIS. okay so jisung would he VERYYYYYY shy to express how clingy he is feeling. this is probably because, 1) he’s afraid you might judge him & 2) he isn’t rlly into physical touch. he would give you signs by patting your head or being around you more often than usual. jisung would be satisfied just by a hug or two, or praising words/compliments. he would have his shy smile on his face, he’d even giggle ugh 💔💔 as i said, jisung isn’t rlly into physical touch however he wouldn’t mind it, so if y’all r cuddling he’d probably put his head on your chest and wrap his arms around you while you guys literally talk about anything, even the silliest things. he likes when he gets attention from you and absolutely loves when you drop anything for him & him only. a clingy jisung would mean a shy jisung.

requests r open !

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reyesranch · 4 months ago

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I feel like atp even if there were plans to make bvddie canon theyre gone now. if tim minear is even half as petty as I am he would see that reaction and go u know what fuck you u actually don't get what you want now cause ur acting so goddamn entitled. like when tarlos fans got mad about the deleted scenes instead of appreciating them being released and his reaction was to say "okay fine then I just won't release deleted scenes anymore" (like I'm sure it was mostly a marketing decision but part of me thinks they intentionally released a scene about bucktommy just to prove a point.) idk man it's just really upsetting as a bi man to see the absolutely vile shit bvddie stans are saying and even tho I love the ship I now never want it to go canon cause they've fuckin ruined it

hey anon, at first let me agree with the fact that i do in fact also love bvddie a lot and i still love reading fics for them, the edits of them are fantastic and the fanart is S tier. it’s a great pairing with a lot of potential there IF the writers decided to ever go there but…

huge answer below

yeah, i agree. i honestly think before tommy was introduced again in 7x03 and the kiss in 7x04 that in my brain, bvddie was the most logical endgame for buck until it wasn’t.

i came into the show shipping bvddie much like a lot of new fans to the show but instead of hopping onto the tommy anti express hate train i found myself falling in love with buck and tommy together. at first i was still on board with bvddie still being endgame but as each episode aired after 7x04 i became faced with the reality of the situation (at least the way i see it) that bvddie might always be fanon and that’s ok because fandom keeps ships alive whether they’re canon or not. some of the biggest ships EVER are non-canon (i mean, cmon spirk? one of the OG MM ships?) so it didn’t really deter me from enjoying bvddie to this day. what HAS deterred me from interacting with bvddie content is toxic bvddies. i don’t like using the lil nicknames, idc if other ppl do, whatever, but i prefer just referring to certain kinds as just toxic plain and simple.

toxic shippers have made it difficult for anyone who multiships to interact with bvddie content. while there are incredibly nice & welcoming bvddie endgamers out there, it doesn’t overshadow the hateful ones in my online experience at least. i’ve blocked so many ppl over this ship discourse, which ive never had to do with any other fandom before the extent i have with 911. everyday i still find new ppl to block, you go under almost any comment section on the 911 insta and its filled with nasty comments abt tommy and only caring abt whether bvddie will be canon in s8. people projecting their hatred of tommy/lou onto the cast/crew of the show when it’s be said and proven time and time again that it’s quite the opposite. now im certain there’s bad apples in the bucktommy side as well, but from what ive seen online so far it is not nearly to the caliber of the bvddie side. ive blocked maybe a handful of bucktommy’s for being hateful towards eddie or being toxic overall, but ive probably blocked over 100+ toxic bvddies. i can only imagine it’d be worse if i was active on 911 twt which i’m not (thank god) but i have ventured into the tags before on there and let me tell you, it’s fucking horrifying how gross ppl are over there. twt is a cesspool for fandom anyways tho, the fucking asshole of fandom, it’s a septic tank really.

now im my own opinion which could be completely untrue of course, but just basing my thoughts on what i’ve seen online and interviews and such, tim seems to be really happy about bucktommy and idk how ppl believe otherwise. tim has expressed he loves LFJ and wanted him back on the show. tim showed up on set for the kiss scene. tim posting an entire youtube vibe abt bucktommy being soulmates that touches on the invisible string theory and explains how they accidentally found buck’s perfect match. tim sharing the deleted tommy scene is also huge but im waiting to see if he releases more (because i remember seen somewhere that he said there’d be more?) and if he does then great but it’s also still pretty telling to me after the whole karaoke fiasco.

oliver has said nothing but praises towards buck’s queer storyline. he quite literally said if you dont like it then watch something else. despite ppl saying he’s never interacted with bucktommy content online, that’s a lie because he has liked fanart of them.

aisha, kenneth & tracie have all expressed how they like tommy/lou and love working with him.

jlh said she loved bvddie before but is excited to see where buck and tommy go and then on an insta live said she doesn’t think bvddie is happening and was bombarded by toxic fans to the point of ending the live early.

ppl think it’s all some ruse to make it seem like bvddie is never happening so when it does happen it’s a “surprise” ……..

the nasty hate comments are doing nothing but exposing these types of ppl for who they are and that honestly to them, 911 is just the bvddie show to them. the people who run these social media accs for 911 are looking at these comments and cringing, they aren’t running to tim and abc being like “we must give these crazies what they want!” they’re mostly likely being ignored or honestly, as you said, being looked at and just reinforcing their decision to most likely make tommy buck’s endgame so as long as his schedule is open for filming.

what gets me the most about the hate these types of shippers spew online is how they aren’t embarrassed because they are so sooo convinced they will be right one day and therefore their insane, nasty behavior online will be justified. oliver stark literally left twt because of fans like this, people act like he was joking around, that he was shooting the shit probably because “he’s british and british people just have that kind of humor” which yes to a certain extent but let me just add these posts to set an example to why if oliver were still on twt he absolutely would not be happy with the way toxic bvddies are acting right now.

oliver (and ryan&other cast too) being positive abt bvddie never meant it was going to be canon of become canon one day. they do not decide these things, whether they believe it should or not. a lot of bvddie shippers come from previous fandoms where queerbaiting was there, where they were made fun of by actors of their ships, by the creators of the show! so i understand the frustration but oliver is not queerbaiting and buck is not a queerbait character when he quite literally is now confirmed bisexual and in a relationship with a man.

he’s just not the “correct” queer to these people. despite headcanons (hell even i hc eddie as queer!!) eddie so far, in canon, is not queer. by the end s7 he is still shown to not be over shannon and ruins his relationship with his son over this. ryan has stated in interviews he sees eddie as heterosexual, possibly pushing this because of the influx of ship discourse, and he’s glad to see a vulnerable and deep friendship that buck and eddie can have as a straight man and a queer man and how important he thinks it is.

every single thing that points to bvddie never going canon is like they’re being shot point blank in the chest. i get it, your ship not becoming canon sucks, but again, that is what fandom is for! shipping has never been about how canon smth is, there is 20k fics out there for bvddie and they aren’t canon. they can turn that into 40k, 100k, 1M if they really wanted to! instead they use their time and energy posting death threats, wishing death upon a gay character, bullying ppl online for enjoying a ship.

meanwhile from what ive seen bucktommys are rolling with goofy ass spy tommy theories created by antis and making jokes for our own fun.

so yes, i agree overall. they truly don’t deserve what they think they do. we didn’t whine and scream for a deleted scene. they did. we got ours without even expecting it and are having fun.

maybe if they behaved better i wouldn’t be so petty abt it. it’s a shame because of how much potential it has, unfortunately it is just not going that way atm. and even if it does one day, it is not because they paraded online with hate, it is because that’s the story tim and the others wanted to write and abc approved it.

🫳🎤

#bucktommy #911 abc #asks #fandom discourse

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kiwi-on-ice · 2 months ago

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we need ashe smut w fem reader if u can🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏

Ashe x fem!reader

Summary: As the new waitress at Panorama Diner, you quickly meet the infamous Deadlock Gang, while also gaining the interest of their ruthless leader.

Word count: 6.2k

Warnings: 18+ smut, dom!ashe, no use of y/n, lots of flirting, fingering, strap ons, spanking, slight overstim

Notes: Thank you for requesting my fav fav fav character anon! God i love Ashe and I love writing her. Also phew this is the longest fanfic i've wrote so far, hope it was worth the wait!

Having recently moved, there was one resounding fact you’ve learnt from practically everyone you’ve met so far; don’t mess with the deadlock gang.

Getting a job as a waitress along route 66, you’d been told by neighbors, new friends, even fellow colleagues to watch your back. That the deadlock gang were dangerous, unpredictable, undefeatable. And as you glance at the wanted posters that adorn the diner wall, your eyes are drawn to the leader, her mascara running down her cheeks. But its her expression that really strikes you, how severe and intense her gaze is. Reading the warning ‘Dead or Alive, Elizabeth Caledonia Ashe, $65,000,000 reward’, it really dawns on you how threatening she seems. Your finger traces the edge of the slightly ripped material, not being able to identify why exactly you can’t rip your gaze away.

Not being able to idle for long, you tear yourself away and get back to serving food and drinks, getting used to the flow of the diner and its patrons. It’s almost relaxing, most customers being pretty polite and calm as you work. You fall into a routine, especially since you have a specific uniform to wear. The diner’s management thought it would be good to have almost a 1950s theme, meaning you and the other waitresses were given blue stereotypical dresses to wear, complete with a small white apron to go around the waist. Yours was a little too tight, not that you minded. It flattered your figure quite nicely, even gaining you a few compliments.

It was quite a slow day as you stood behind the counter, in your own world as your fingers tap rhythmically on the marble. Light streamed through the glass windows, brightening the fairly empty diner as you daydream passively. Although the other waitress on staff seemingly drops a cup on the counter, causing you to turn at the noise. She seems...flustered, just as the bell rings to signal the door has opened. Following her nervous gaze, your breath catches. The deadlock gang, well only three of them, but the leader you’d recognise anywhere from how often you find yourself gazing at her wanted poster. Your colleague quickly busies herself with some coffee that you’re sure hasn’t been ordered, leaving you to seat them. You breathe slowly as you walk towards the new patrons.

Ashe seems a little frustrated, snapping at who you assume is her lieutenant as they wait to be seated, her rifle idly resting over her shoulder. She turns to look at whichever waitress will probably annoy her today, and then she sees you. Immediately her demeanour changes, looking you up and down as the furrow of her brow dissipates.

“Welcome to Panorama Diner, table for three?” you say softly, a polite smile etched on your features.

“Yeah, thanks. Preferably by one of those windows.” The leader replies, her red eyes not moving from you as you lead them to their table. Placing their menus down, you smile and leave them to decide. Releasing a breath you didn’t know you were holding, you catch the other waitress glancing at you slightly apologetically. But you don’t particularly feel that threatened or scared…but you’ve been wrong before.

“Ready to order?” you ask with your notebook out, once again putting on the customer service smile.

“Three coffees, black.” Ashe says, before looking you up and down again. “That a uniform? Or d’you just like to dress like that?”

“It’s a uniform, management are going for a 1950s theme.” You reply with a soft laugh, which Ashe seems to delight in.

“Suits ya dollface, can see why they suggested it.” She says smoothly, causing heat to unexpectedly rise to your cheeks.

“I’ll grab your drinks.” You say quickly, turning and hoping she didn’t catch how flustered you looked. You reprimand yourself as you put the coffee on, why on earth were you affected by a simple compliment? You get compliments all the time…and especially why were you affected by the compliment of a criminal gang leader? You try and shake those thoughts from your mind as you pour their drinks, placing them on the tray and carrying them.

“Here you are, can I get you guys anything else?” you ask as you place their mugs in front of them. The two men shake their head dismissively, but Ashe hums softly.

“Hm…any recommendations?”

You hesitate for a moment. “Well a lot of the waitresses here recommend the apple pie.”

“But not you?” she asks, her eyebrow quirked.

“To be honest I hate apple pie.”

This dry response cause the gang leader to laugh, actually laugh, causing the two men to stare for a moment, bewildered. “That right? Appreciate the honesty there sweetcheeks, what would you recommend?”

You take a moment to think. “The French toast is lovely, and we also have a few cakes on stand that the staff made. Chocolate and red velvet.”

“Well I think red velvet would be just sweet enough, thanks doll.” Ashe replies with a small smirk, her red lipstick illuminating as the suns rays pierce through the glass panes. You nod and quickly go to get her a slice, a little short of breath from her intense gaze. You really need to stop acting like a blushing schoolgirl, you reprimand yourself. Coming back and serving her the cake slice, she thanks you, and that delicious accent of hers has you fidgeting as you turn and serve another table.

You try and continue your shift as normal, although her occasional glances at you prove difficult to ignore. Still you manage to keep your composure until one of her lieutenants pipes up.

“Hey lady, can we get the check?” he says loudly, snapping his fingers a little condesendingly, and as you hurry to the table, you see Ashe glare daggers at him.

“Don’t snap your damn fingers at her, she ain’t a fuckin’ dog.” Ashe seethes at him, which causes him to shrink a little and nod.

“Cash or card?” you ask, before Ashe pulls out a wad of cash from her pocket. Counting how much they owe, she places it on the table. You collect it as they stand to leave, but before they do Ashe stands to her full height and steps in front of you.

“Your tip, and an apology for my lackey’s rudeness.” She says, handing you a wad of cash. Your eyes must betray your shock at how much she’s giving you, as you shakily take it and start thanking her profusely.

“Don’t mention it dollface, didn’t catch your name.” You tell her, and she hums and smirks at you. “Pretty name for a pretty girl, guess I’ll be comin’ in here more often.”

With that, she tips her cowboy hat which makes you giggle softly before leaving. You watch as they step outside, mounting their motorbikes. You glance down to check your tip, counting the money in amazement. She’d tipped you 200 dollars, at least that’ll go a long way to paying this weeks rent.

Making good on her statement, two days later the gang are back. This time it’s Ashe and three members of her gang, alongside two omincs. One looked smaller, with a hood and a sniper rifle, but the other was huge, his hulking frame contrasting the cute little bowler hat that lay askew on his head. Even though a waiter was on hand, you almost sprinted to be the one who served them.

“Welcome back to Panorama Diner, table for…five?” you ask as you count them, and Ashe nods. They all seem a little dishelved, a few cuts and scrapes present on the human members which causes you to wonder where they’d been or what trouble they’d caused. You lead them to a table, connecting two so the bigger omnic could fit more comfortably, which seems to please Ashe greatly.

“Wasn’t sure ya’ll accepted omnics, there are a lot of establishments who sure as hell don’t.” Ashe remarks, causing you to shake your head.

“Of course we do, we don’t discriminate.” You say with a smile, before glancing at the bigger omnic. “Love the hat.”

He gives a nod and a little thumbs up, as Ashe continues. “His name’s B.O.B, he ain’t a talker.”

You nod, flipping your notebook out. Two coffees and a milkshake, to which Ashe raises her eyebrow at the dark-skinned woman clutching a laptop to her chest.

“Seriously Frankie?”

“What? You said it was a celebration.”

You smile a little. “So two coffees and a milkshake, got it.”

Leaving them to it, you go to prepare their orders. You can’t deny that you’ve been secretly picturing Ashe coming in again, giving you a small rush now that it’s actually come true. You try and convince yourself it’s just for the possibility of another tip, and not for the way her voice makes you weak at the knees, and her eyes are the most gorgeous you’ve ever seen.

“Here you guys are, anything else just let me know.” You say brightly.

“Thanks doll.”

God you can’t deny how much that nickname is affecting you when it slips from her red lips, as you turn and serve some other tables. You notice a few patrons glancing at the gang as they eat, but you aren’t afraid anymore, and you sure as hell aren’t gonna turn them in, however you try and push away the feeling of guilt at how flippant you’re being regarding a wanted gang of criminals. All because the leader was hot.

Still, you go about your shift easily, growing to like whenever Ashe would unashamedly look at your ass whenever you bent over to pick something up from a table; in fact, a few times you did it on purpose in the hopes the older woman was looking at you. After a while, it was near closing time so you check on them to get any final orders. Upon asking for the check, you hand it to them.

“Cash or card?” you ask.

“Cash” the leader replies, this time opening a bag that was sat beside her. You can’t help but glance inside, and the sheer volume of dollar bills nearly has your eyes watering. That explains why they look so bruised and scraped, you think to yourself, as she counts out the amount and places it on the table. As they get up to leave, Ashe is again the last one as she hands you another wad of cash.

“Your tip.” She says in a matter-of-fact tone.

“Oh…miss I really cant accept that much again- “

“You can, and you will.” She replies, her tone leaving no room for argument as you shyly take the money, electricity spiking up your back as your skin brushes against hers.

“Thank you so so much, I really can’t thank you enough.”

“No need sugar.” She waves her hand dismissively as she grabs her rifle. “Stay safe, these parts ain’t gonna be quiet for too long.”

You nod a little at her warning as she leaves, your heart beating rapidly. She gives you a final look up and down as she leaves, and you release a shaky breath, god you really have to stop getting so worked up about her. Although it’s hard when you glance at the 300 dollar bill tip she just gave you.

However a few days later, things really take a turn for you. Two of your fellow waitresses invite you out to a bar, and you’d been polite enough to say yes despite your reluctance. Once you arrive, they’re both taken with a few men who buy them drinks, leaving you alone at the bar, tapping your finger anxiously on the table. You get a few offers from guys trying to buy you drinks, but you blow them off, your dress suddenly feeling too tight in the warm lights. Thinking about leaving, you move a bit through the bar before you hear raucous laughter from a nearby cards table.

The deadlock gang…they were here. Clearly nobody was brave enough to ask them to leave, or hell they might even own the place…it strikes you just how little you know about them; dangerous considering the leader now knows your name. The same leader who you’ve just locked eyes with, the red hue causing your breath to catch. Hesitating, you turn to leave. Maybe she didn’t recognise you outside of your waitress uniform, as you attempt to walk casually towards the exit.

“You better not be leaving doll, not when I’ve just saw ya.” You hear a smooth southern voice say, and god it’s like the blood rushes to your face immediately. Turning, you see Ashe coming up to you, her lips, tie and eyes all the same colour. Danger.

“Seems my friends have left me, I was just heading out-“

“Awe don’t worry, how about I be your friend, hm?”

It feels like the devil tempting you as you hesitate for a moment, but ultimately you find yourself nodding before you even realise. The smirk on her face makes her look like the wolf whose seduced the lamb into her den, as she leads you into the bar with a hand on the small of your back. Taking you to a smaller table away from the rest of her gang, she looks at you.

“Let me at least buy ya a drink.” She offers, and goes to order what you asked for. Tapping your fingers nervously against your thigh, you glance around as you wait. Her gang are still sat where you’d seen them, laughing and playing cards. You recognise a few of them who’d came into the diner, but quickly look away before they catch you staring.

“There ya go sugar.” Ashe says as she gets back, two glasses in hand. You quickly thank her as she slides into the booth with you, her thigh slightly touching your own. “So y’friends abandoned you?”

Laughing a little, you nod and explain that they’d been whisked away with some patrons who’d caught their eye. The smirk on Ashe’s face gives away her train of thought.

“But not you?” She inquires, eyes glancing around your face as if mapping out every detail.

“I prefer girls.” You say before even thinking about your words, but the older woman smiles all the same.

“Perfect.”

Forcing yourself to not show how flustered you are, she starts to ask questions about your life, your job, your family. As you speak, she seems genuinely interested in what you have to say, something you can’t say you’ve ever had with the dates you’ve been on in the past. Not that this is a date…

“What about you?” You ask softly.

“Me? All ya need to know is that deadlock is my family now.” She says, before grinning. “Well, B.O.B is extra special family.”

“The one with the little hat, right?” You reply, peering over her shoulder to her gang, where the hulking omnic sat with his eyes firmly on the two of you.

“Yeah that’s it, my bodyguard. Not that I need him all the time. Best believe I can handle myself.” She smirks, leaning in to murmur the last bit close to your ear, causing you to giggle a little.

“You’re known for being quite dangerous around these parts, right?”

“Oh you could say that doll. What, you scared?” She teases, before you quickly shake your head. “Good, I like a brave girl.”

Smiling a little at her praise, you aren’t even focused on the fact she’s a gang leader anymore. Like Eve biting the forbidden fruit, you let Ashe place her hand on your knee as you speak, the sinful spark of electricity seemingly travelling from her manicured fingertips all the way up your spine. As you both talk, her fingers tracing small circles on your knee, before slightly rising higher.

After an hour or so, her gang approach, rowdy and clearly intoxicated as they giggle.

“C’mon Ashe, let’s hit up some other places.”

You smile at the cowgirl, thinking it’s the end of the night for you. But she hums, glancing at you for a moment before replying.

“Ya’ll go and have fun, but not too much.”

One of her lieutenants tilts his head, “huh? You ain’t comin’?”

Ashe cuts him a glare that tells him to shut his mouth, before readjusting herself so her arm is around your shoulder. “I’m doin’ just fine here.”

With no room for argument, her gang takes off after Ashe gives a nod to her omnic bodyguard. You on the other hand feel your breathing quicken at the feel of her arm around you, subtly leaning closer to her as you giggle.

“You’re doing just fine here?” You ask, to which she smirks.

“Damn right I am, got a pretty girl hangin’ off my every word. What’s not to like?”

At the reassurance that she does in fact find you pretty, the heat rises within you. Not being able to help glancing at her lips for a moment, the ever perceptive criminal obviously noticing, her breath tickling your cheek as she speaks.

“But just cause I’m doin’ fine here, don’t mean we can’t go somewhere else…maybe away from pryin’ eyes.”

At her announcement, you glance around to notice the other patrons sneaking glances as you. But another thought comes creeping through your mind, the thought of going home with her. Of letting her touch you in the way you’ve been fantasising about ever since she came into the diner. You wouldn’t dream of admitting the nights you spent playing with your clit, imagining the infamous gang leader’s fingers instead. So you nod, knowing you’d give in, and the self-satisfied smile on her face tells you that she knew you’d say yes.

She leads you with by the hand, warm and slightly callous in your own, before coming upon her motorcycle parked outside the bar. Seeing your expression, she giggles softly.

“First time on one of these?” she asks, to which you nod, “Don’t worry sugar, just hold on good and tight f’me, alright?”

And you really do, clinging on to her waist as she speeds down dirt roads, hair wispy in the wind. Try as you might to relax and take in the scenery, you can’t deny the relief you feel when she finally brings the bike to a stop. She takes you once again by the hand and leads you inside, shutting and bolting the door behind you both. Now should be the time to feel at least a little intimidated, but butterflies of excitement uncurl in your stomach as she glances at you.

“Want another drink?” she asks smoothly, to which you shake your head. Drinking really is the last thing on your mind, especially as she stalks closer to you. “Maybe you want somethin’ else…”

Feeling your back against the wall, you nod slightly as she brings her hand up to slowly trace your cheekbone. Her thumb rubs smoothing lines, and at this proximity you can see every line and pore on her beautiful face, every eyelash, how her tongue darts out a little to lick at her lip.

“D’you want me doll? Gotta tell me now or I ain’t touchin’ ya.”

“I want you.” You say, trying to sound confident but melting at her grin.

“Alright, you gotta know though…I’m a woman who likes control, likes to be in charge. You sure you can handle that?”

You’re sure that your cheeks are burning as she says that, nodding quickly again. At your consent, she leans in and kisses you, the tension between you both finally exploding. She presses you further up against the wall, tongue running along your bottom lip before exploring your mouth. Eagerly swallowing your slight whimpers, she uses her free hand to wrap around your hip, keeping you where she wants you. Pulling away, she observes the slight red stain her lipstick as left on your mouth, before kissing along your jaw.

“So sweet sugar, like candy.” She mumbles against your skin, kissing down to your neck and licking. “Gonna let me leave a mark?”

You stutter out a yes, before she sucks a dark hickey into your neck. There really isn’t any going back now, she’s marked you. The leader of the deadlock gang has truly staked her claim on you, and you couldn’t be happier.

Feeling the material of your dress, she slowly inches the fabric up, exposing more and more of your thighs as she kisses to the junction between your neck and shoulder. She lets out a soft moan as she grips your upper thigh, feeling the soft skin under her touch and squeezing. Although she quickly grows tired of waiting, instead slipping between your thighs to grope your clothed pussy instead. At the action, you can’t help but buck forward into her touch, feeling her smile against your skin.

“So wet already, bet you were drippin’ in the bar huh?” she accuses you, knowing she was right. Her fingers cup your panties, feeling the wet material beneath her skin, exploring. With a soft whimper, you let her touch you how she wants, eyelids fluttering closed before she slaps your pussy lightly.

“Nuh uh doll, eyes open.”

When you do as she instructs, she rewards you by slipping into your panties and rubbing your clit in slow rhythmic circles. The result is instantaneous, a quiet needy moan escaping you as you feel her touch. Her eyes never leave your face, head tilted as she watches your reactions.

“Look so pretty, y’know that? Know how pretty you are?” she praises you teasingly, meaning every word but mostly saying them because of how flustered you act when you hear them. Her praise goes straight to your cunt, clit throbbing under her touch as she speeds up her movements.

“Here’s what’s gonna happen sugar. You’re gonna cum on my hand, and all I’m gonna do is play with your clit. If you’re a good girl and do what I say, imma take you into the bedroom and fuck the brains outta ya.”

Her tone doesn’t leave any room for argument, and you voice your confirmation. She grips your waist, encouraging you to rock into her hand as she keeps up the movement of her fingers, strumming your core expertly. It’s clear to you she’s experienced, and you wonder if this is a normal occurrence for her; to seduce and play with pretty girls who happen to cross her path when she isn’t out being a criminal.

Shakily, you grip on to her waistcoat for stability, feeling yourself get closer and closer the more she touches you. When she releases your waist to grope your tits, that’s when your thighs really start to shake, grip harder on her outfit.

“Yeah baby, that’s right. Cum on my hand, make a mess.” She encourages, her voice igniting that fire inside of you as you finish on her hand with a soft cry. Not slowing down, she gets every last bit of your pleasure before she finally removes her hand, bringing it up to the light to observe your fluids sticking to her digits. “Awe, ya really did make a mess.”

Catching your breath, you blink for a moment as she uses those same fingers to tap at your lower lip, before parting them to clean her fingers for her. Tasting yourself was a little strange, but it was worth it for the way her pupils dilated and her breath caught in her throat at your performance. Without another word, she grabs your upper arm and hauls you into the bedroom.

Getting you on your back, she grabs the zipper of your dress and yanks it down, removing it quickly as she leans to give you another kiss. Moaning softly, you reach to unzip her waist coat, pushing it off her before your hands go to her tie. She grins against your lips and helps you undo it, before he grips your wrists and pins them above your head, mattress squeaking slightly.

“Can you guess what I’m about to do?” she purrs, before wrapping the red tie around your wrists, not tight enough to hurt but just enough to give the illusion of incapacitation. Bound like a present for her, she straddles your waist and looks at her handiwork, before slowly unbuttoning her dress shirt. You buck up a little in excitement, as she reveals her white bra. Removing her fingerless gloves, she tugs your ruined underwear down roughly, exposing your dripping cunt to the dim light of the bedroom.

“So many things I wanna do to you baby, so many things.” She says as she runs her finger along your pussy lips, smirking as you twitch. “Anythin’ completely off limits?”

You tell her and she hums in acknowledgement, before glancing at the wardrobe. She lifts herself off you, hissing at you to stay still as she grabs a box from beneath a few clothes and bullet shell casings. Bringing it over, she smirks as your eyes widen at the sheer number of toys in the box.

“I’m a wealthy woman doll, and I’m a wealthy woman with…needs.” She answers your silent judgement, before leaving the box on the floor next to the bed. “Now if you do well, I promise I’ll fuck ya, how does that sound?”

Before being able to ask what you need to do well at, she unbuttons her trousers and slides them down her legs, removing all of her harnesses and belts with precision. Just in her bra and underwear now, she winks at you before ridding herself of her panties before climbing up your body. Oh. You know what she wants, and you whimper desperately in anticipation.

Grabbing the headboard, she positions herself over your face, thighs on either side. You’re practically salivating, as she moves your bound hands to be resting on your stomach. Without warning, she finally sits on your face, and you get to work immediately. You lap at her pussy, wanting to taste her all night and finally being given the opportunity. She groans softly, the feeling of your warm tongue between her thighs was heavenly. She wanted you like this since she saw you, in that silly waitress dress that was too small for your curves.

Rocking into your tongue, she watches you squirm with glee, moving one hand to hold your hair; keeping you in place as she uses you. Uses your mouth, all for herself. Whimpering, you lick up to her clit before sucking gently, delighting in how a soft moan escapes her throat. She tightens her grip on your hair, pulling to angle you to where exactly she wants. Her pussy was dripping, mixing with your saliva as she makes a mess of your face. Not that you mind, excitedly pleasuring her as best you can.

“Fuck sugar, ain’t you a good girl.” She slurs out, as you move your tongue over her cunt. “Keep it up and I’m, shit, I’m definitely fuckin’ ya.”

You whine in excitement, doubling down on your effort, jaw slightly aching as you please the criminal above you. Feeling herself get close, she grinds faster into your tongue, taking the sensations you’re willingly providing her. She finally cums in your mouth with an uncharacteristically higher pitched moan, her hips slowing until she stills.

You catch your breath rapidly as she climbs off you, leaning into her hand as she wipes your mouth of her wetness. The action causes your chest to feel tight with happiness, before she taps your cheek in a slightly condescending manner.

“Alright then doll, I’m a woman of my word.”

With that, she leans off the bed to rifle through the box, before bringing up a bottle of lube and squeezing a glob onto her fingers. With a nod of confirmation from you, she pushes two fingers slowly inside, feeling how your practically suck her in. She groans quietly, as you make a stranged gasp at the sensation. Removing them, she sinks them inside again before repeating, the wet noises from your cunt echoing off the walls.

“Hear that? Hear how much this pussy wants me?” she taunts, curling them to prod at that spot inside that makes your toes curl.

She sets a slow but firm rhythm, focusing on stretching you out for whats to come as her other hand gentle strokes circles on your thigh. You’re having the time of your life, hands still bound helplessly infront of you as your digits flex. This is exactly what you wanted from her, what you needed from her, and she hadn’t even got to the main event yet.

After a while though, and a third finger being slipped inside, you grow impatient with the growing desire for her to fuck you. So you do your best to voice that desperation, hips twitching and voice pathetically higher pitched than normal.

“You want it baby?” she says, slowing her fingers to a halt before grinning at you. “Say it nicely.”

“Can you please fuck me Ashe?” you ask.

With a nod and a quick spank to your oversensitive pussy, she leans down and grabs the strap on she was keeping which causes your eyes to widen. It’s a black harness, with a purple dildo attached. It wasn’t overly big at around 6 inches, but it certainly seemed thicker than anything you’d taken before. Suddenly glad of her prep, you watch as she moves a pillow beneath your hips, before lubing up the fake cock.

She pushes in slowly, and you both moan at the sight and sensation. God you look gorgeous, she thinks, as her red eyes watch your face contort in pleasure and the slight pain that comes with the stretch. You whimper her name softly, cunt tightening around the dildo as Ashe strokes at your hips soothingly.

“I know, I know sugar. But you can take it, I know you can take it.” She praises, bottoming out inside you. Thighs shaking, you’re grateful for the way she lets you adjust to the size, and after a few moments you offer her a shaky nod.

Smiling, she pulls out slowly and pushes you back in, getting you used to the rhythm of being fucked as the grip on your thighs tightens a little. She clearly has a lot of core strength, able to keep the pace effectively and slightly speed up when she senses you get more comfortable. The slick sounds of your pussy getting fucked by her should make you embarrassed, but the shameless noise only serves to turn you on further.

“That’s it, look at ya. Takin’ my cock so well, such a good little girl.” She grunts out, cowboy hat laying askew on her head as she keeps fucking you. You lift your bound hands to paw at her bra, before she clearly gets the hint and chuckles. Not slowing down at all, she reaches behind herself and practically rips the garment off, exposing her breasts to your gaze. You go to touch them before she grabs your wrists easily, moving them above your head as she moves your thighs up.

This new angle means she can drive the toy impossibly deep inside you, pinning your hands down and making sure you have nowhere to go, nothing to do but take. You moan louder at this, eyes nearly rolling back as you’re sure she’s fucking your brains out. The mating press makes her feel good too, the harness bumping her clit with every thrust, serving the mental image of her fucking you with physical sensation.

“So cute, like my own little doll. Maybe I should keep ya.” She drawls, causing you to whimper more at the insinuation. Hell, in this moment she could threaten to lock you up in her basement and you’d probably blindly agree, needing to feel more of the delicious friction she was providing you. Moving her one hand down, she rubs a little clumsily at your clit, causing your cunt to tighten around the dildo.

You aren’t sure how long she fucks you like that, time an illusion that pales in comparison to the pleasure of being fucked by the gang leader, but eventually you need to cum. So you tell her, beg her, which only fuels her dominate headspace further.

“Yeah keep beggin’ me, that’s right. You know who’s in control right now.” She groans out, slamming her hips against yours. Every muscle in your body tightening, you barely have time to tell her you’re gonna cum until you’re gushing around her fake cock with a drawn out moan. Grinning, she slows down, stroking at your arms.

“Good job, you looked so pretty baby.” She whispers, red nails gently dragging on your skin soothingly. Just when you’re about to thank her though when she pulls out, she grabs under your hips and flips you, landing face first into the mattress with a grunt.

“Ashe-“

“Oh come on darlin’, you didn’t think we’d just stop at one, did you?”

With that, she pushes into you for a second time from behind, your back arching. This time she doesn’t wait for you to adjust before pulling back and thrusting inside. With your loud, overstimulated moans, she grins sadistically and starts to fuck you again, your hands limply in front of your face.

“Oh fuck doll, ain’t you just the prettiest thing.” She gets out through her shaky drawn out breaths, focusing on railing you firmly into next week. Your thighs tremble with every thrust, feeling your g spot get battered by her dildo. You feel a sharp smack as she spanks your ass, and at your reaction she repeats the motion.

Eyes rolling back, your front falls into the sheets as you lose the strength to hold yourself up, moaning incessantly at her rough treatment. She fucks you like she already owns you, like you’re her property, and you love it. The sensations are so much, you find yourself whimpering her name over and over.

But a part of Ashe wants you to call her by her first name, a name she hardly lets anyone call her. But ultimately decides against it, it feels too real, somehow too intimate. Reluctant to break down her walls, she instead channels her mental doubts into fucking you better, harder, with more passion. She holds your hips for stability, pushing your hands down so you can crudely rub yourself while she fucks you.

Soon it all becomes too much, and you feel yourself barrelling towards your next orgasm quickly. Your breathy whines and whimpers let her know, as she moves her hand up your spine before nestling her fingers in your hair. She gives a sharp pull, forcing you into an arch as she coos in your ear.

“Awe baby, you gonna cum again? Gonna let me fuck another one outta ya?”

You nod dumbly, almost drooling as your pussy tightens yet again.

“Good, make some noise for me m’kay?”

Making good on her word, she thrusts into your g spot with conviction, forcing noises to come tumbling out of your throat as you cum for a third time that night, twitching and almost convulsing. This time when she slows, she pulls out for good, unclasping the harness and letting the strap fall to her side as she takes you in her arms. She tosses the cowgirl hat and nestles herself into the pillows, pulling you with her so you’re laying on her chest.

“That okay for you?” she asks, like she hasn’t just given you the railing of a lifetime, but you giggle softly anyway and nod. “Alright good, just checkin’. I’ll run ya a bath in a minute, how does that sound?”

You relax into her embrace, content to let her take care of you as you hum softly in appreciation. Her nails gently drag along your scalp, the soothing gesture threatening to send you to sleep before she can clean you up. You can’t deny how safe you feel, in the arms of someone so dangerous. But she’s showing you such affection, such softness which contradicts the rumours that swirl around her.

“Are you gonna come to the diner more?”

That innocent little question you ask, so full of hope and contentment causes an unfamiliar sensation to rise up in the cowgirl, as she glances down at you.

“You want that? You wanna see me some more?”

At your nod, she swallows thickly. You actually want to see her more, maybe as more than someone to fuck. Someone to…she doesn’t let herself finish that thought, instead smirks teasingly.

“Sure doll, gotta come back to the diner. Gotta make sure nobody else is tippin’ my favourite waitress as much as I am.”

You giggle at that, teasing her back. “Oh? So if someone tipped me higher then you’d match it?”

“I’d go beyond matchin’ it darlin’, might have to start paying your bills as my tip.”

You really laugh at her dramatics, cuddling up to her more and making her cheeks involuntarily flush. With a soft sigh, she allows herself to bask in the moment before slapping your ass gently.

“Come on then dollface, let’s get ya in the bath.”

140 notes · View notes

thisgirlnamedblusy · 2 months ago

Note

pspspspspsps here kitty kitty kitty (Joking,... now you laugh) ....

Italian, Fem!Reader, that had traveled briefly to the village, to sell some books, movies, and whatnot -- just to grant the vilagers some sense of like.. the outside world? If that makes sense?

Reader, having already timed their escape, decides to go to that peculiar house up on the hill, across the bridge, before their departure, -- maybe the residents, who, Reader thought, was an old couple, or a very wealthy woman, .. maybe even one of those trust-fund families.. yes! Reader BET that the inhabitant of a place so grand would spend a pretty penny on some foreign knowledge.. maybe, Reader could even upsell. Yes! That would be enough to pay off Readers risky carriage fees.. (nervous laughter)

Reader, ignoring all darkness, all red flags and blatant signs of danger, because, well, Reader is very oblivious, and very optimistic, -- and, well, they barely know English, so, .. how would Reader know what the villagers say about the owner of said.. Oh-so large mansion? Pfft. As if.

'Oh.. its getting dark. Jeez, the trees sure do make this place gloomy!' 'Uhhhh.. why do i have a blaring sense of discomfort, nausea, unease, and a will of fright that makes my stomach churn with instinct to yeet myself the opposite direction? Oh, man, i knew i shouldnt have eaten that un-refrigerated fruit!'

Angie, if i remember that dollies name correctly, answers .. takes one look at Reader, in all of their 'Italian-beauty-standard-fitting', 'italian-book-carrying', 'Donna-language-speaking' glory (Donna language speaking because.. Italian. That was also a joke. Plz laugh), and immidiately, with that screechy voice calls Donna over

Donna fucking FAAAWNNNSSS over everything Reader has, buys their entire stock, then, out of pure gushy-ness, of how nostalgic, and amazing, and flavourful (meaning, how much stuff that Donna was desperately searching for, Reader has in stock) Readers 'for-sales' are, that she, spur-in-the-moment, ushurs Reader inside, makes them tea and whatnot,

well.. so much for Readers plan of escape. Poor bus-maid Reader hired, they thought, as they sat awkwardly beside the lady in black, veiled thickly, who was talking in Italian, since, well, Reader has little to no knowledge of english. Atleast shes also Italian. Thats nice. Wait.. why does Reader feel their cheeks heating up? Gosh, darn it, Reader has read (aha) far too many romance books.

Make it so that, since Reader, who, now, cant escape the Village, since their little plans of flight had been SPOILEDD!! (reference. Chuckles) they stay with Donna, then, after awhile, after teaching Donna everything they know about Italy, and get really comftorable with her, and sees her without her veil on accident, and cooks traditionally, does fucking .. house chores, because, well, they're an unpaying guest in a strangers home, they both start catchin' feelsies and all that sweet stuff. I'll leave the deciding of when and how to you! How generous of me!

(No smut, please. Aroace look'enne for sum intimate, not-so-intimate love. Aha. Joke again. Just a little giggle, please 😨)

Hope ya have an amazing day!! Yes, i know im too descriptive, im just awesome like that. Much apreesh, Anon. 💗

(p.s, thank u blusy 🫂🫂🫂 virtual hugs from italy. ciao bbg.. or.. bbb.. i dont .. i dunno)

Yesss!!!! Well, that was quite long request, but it was funny to write!!! Thank you for sending it and for your funny words!!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language(s) mistakes!!!!

Foreign Business

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem, Italian! Reader

Warnings: fluff, Donna being Donna

Word count: 8,585

Summary: Should you leave that gloomy village?

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

“17:30, do you hear me?” the young woman driving the small bus said.

You rolled your eyes and nodded, picking up your stuff.

“I don't think it will… How do you say… take long,” you murmured with an innocent smile, taking out your suitcase as best you could, letting it fall into the snow.

“Hey, stranger,” the girl said, with a gloomy look. “You have to pay me now.”

“Cosa? No, I'll pay you when I get back,” you said with a frown, crossing your arms.

“I'm leaving,” the girl whispered, starting the vehicle again.

“Hey, hey, hey, hey! No, no, no…” you said comically running towards the small bus. “Why are you in such a hurry?”

“Look stranger, it's clear that you have no idea of what’s going on in this place, right?” the driver asked, with a raised eyebrow. You shook your head and smiled innocently.

“Hey, I was invited,” you protested confused, giving up and taking out your wallet.

“Who has invited you?” she wanted to know.

“I have a relative in this country who is also a businessman,” you explained, putting on your coat because of the cold. “He says he is known as… The Duke.”

The girl looked at you curiously, but finally shook her head.

“No idea…” she murmured. “Besides, that doesn’t matter to me. My job is to bring you here and take you back to Bucharest. If for… Well, for whatever reason you don’t come back, I’ll be left without my money, do you understand?”

“Why wouldn’t I come back?” you asked nervously, looking down the hill, where the old village stood in a frozen mist. “I'm just going to sell my stuff and…”

“You bore me,” the driver sighed, with a mocking laugh that made you burn with rage. “Just pay me now, spaghetti.”

“Mm, politeness is not your best virtue, is it?” you murmured, wishing to say other things, other not-so-elegant words.

After all, that stupid girl was your only transportation in that place in the middle of nowhere… You should control your desire to insult her with all your might.

“I'd rather be rude than stupid,” the young woman laughed, extending her hand for you to give her the money you were holding, squeezing it tightly.

“Ugh, here, your money,” you grumbled, getting a satisfied look from the driver, who turned off the engine, reclining her seat and picking up a magazine.

“A pleasure doing business with you, spaghetti...” she sighed with a sinister laugh.

You, without her seeing you, made fun of her, angrily picking up your suitcase and walking towards the path where you had met with the Duke.

“Stupida...” you hissed, shaking your head, observing the landscape around you.

The trip had been exhausting. Dodging the mountains, those snowy landscapes had taken you too much time, but, that seemingly remote place had a special charm that made it worth it.

You were always a saleswoman, descendant of a family of merchants that expanded throughout old Europe decades ago. Sell, buy, repeat… That was your way of life. Trading in the villages of your country, Italy, was something simple for you, perhaps too simple.

The lack of interest of people in the modern world for something as simple as books, films, or any element of culture, had caused your business to falter, and you had no more than four clients in your area.

You always believed in tradition, in following the family legacy, even when circumstances were not in your favour. You could say that you were also a bit stubborn. Your family branched out to all possible places, places like France, Germany, Spain…

They all seemed to be haunted by the same curse, the same lack of interest in a good book, in knowledge itself.

But there was one place, a place where the tentacles of your family had arrived to stay for a long time, a place where the past lived, where present and future seemed not to exist at all.

A distant relative, the Duke, was for you the luckiest member of the family. Not even your parents knew how long that man had been in that village, in Romania. There were even rumors that he never came, that he never left, he had always existed.

Nonsense and legends in your opinion.

What you did know was that in that place, there were some business opportunities.

You had heard many things about the Duke, about the place where he worked. Apart from old superstitions and legends of witches and vampires, things you didn't believe in, you had heard that the people of the place lived completely oblivious to the outside world.

A unique opportunity. How much would a person pay to know what the world around them was like?

You didn't really care much about the reasons, those strange rumors. You didn't even wonder why that village seemed to be frozen in time. The only thing you thought about when you got on that plane was business.

“Qui...” you sighed when you reached that meeting point the Duke marked.

Without having anything else to do but wait, you sorted your merchandise while you studied the snowy forest that surrounded you, trying to decipher the old wooden signs that indicated illegible directions.

“Re-Reser-Reservoir...” you stammered, removing the snow from one of those signs, looking around. “Un bacino idrico?” you asked, scratching your head. “Mm, interessante...”

Yes, maybe if you finished soon you could do some sightseeing and, above all, you could see the enormous castle that seemed to guard the village.

The minutes passed, you couldn't tell if quickly or slowly. Nothing, there was no sign of the Duke. You might not have known what he looked like, but… In reality, you hadn't seen anyone pass by that path.

The cold began to mix with impatience, making you shiver.

“Ah!” you shrieked when, out of nowhere, a flock of black crows appeared, passing over you, close, too close.

Those black birds seemed like an evil omen, but you were too eager to know that place to realize it. Simply, with a proud cough, you stood up from your crouched position, shaking the snow off your dress.

“Uccelli…” you growled furiously, watching how that flock of crows moved away with sinister sounds.

Checking that your merchandise was still intact, you closed your suitcase, crossing your arms, slowly losing patience.

As you sighed for the umpteenth time, you realized that maybe you were in the wrong place. Asking wouldn't do any good, and besides, there was no one you could ask.

“Mm?” you muttered when you noticed something different among your stuff, a sealed envelope that you could swear wasn't there before.

Looking around confused, thinking no way those crows left that envelope, you slowly picked it up, opening it with a frown. As you began to read, you looked nervously at that forest again. It was a letter for you, in the middle of nowhere.

Dear (Y/N)

I'm afraid something unexpected has come up. It prevents me from attending to you, even though I was certainly looking forward for us to meet. I suppose that, since you are my family, to trade in the village on your own won't be a problem for you.

I'm sorry for the inconvenience.

PS: A word of advice, listen to what the villagers tell you, I wouldn't want the wolves to devour you, or anything worse. Please take care of yourself.

Duke

There was no doubt about it, that letter had arrived there by magic. The idea of messenger crows seemed less and less crazy. But the reality was overwhelming: you were alone in that unknown place.

You had two options: You could take your suitcase, walk back in your tracks and go to the bus, writing yet another failure in your diary, a very expensive one. On the other hand, you could ignore those chills, that feeling of being where you shouldn't be and do what you had come to do.

I wouldn't want the wolves to devour you, or anything worse…

That warning seemed like an irony, a little joke that was surely common to all outsiders like you. Well, it's not like it was a place where there could be wolves but… That wasn't the disturbing thing. What could be worse than being savagely devoured by those beasts?

Curiosity or cowardice, that was your dilemma.

With a thoughtful sigh, you looked at those two possible paths, imagining that, under each of them, there was a line of text that told you which page to go to, like those adventure books that offered several possibilities, some of them fatal ones.

You always fantasized too much thanks to those books. Maybe if you had been as rational as the protagonists of those great adventures, you would have considered your possibilities better.

Shrugging, not wanting to have wasted your money on a fruitless trip, you didn’t listen to the Duke's letter. After all, your job was to talk to people, you didn't need his help, or so you thought.

The castle was increasingly imposing as you approached. It was fascinating, a place from a novel, full of possibilities. Surely when you returned home and read one of those books, you would imagine that gloomy and mysterious landscape.

The glances traveled to your eyes passively. These villagers were definitely strange, they seemed to either fear you, or wish you away, you weren't sure.

Unfortunately, your eagerness to offer knowledge to these poor souls was unsuccessful.

Muttering things you didn't quite understand, in an English that was practically incomprehensible to you, which, on the other hand, was bad luck, since you didn't fully master the language either, each one of the doors of those old cabins closed in your face.

“Hey, I haven't even said my name!” you protested after the tenth disinterested grunt from one of the inhabitants of that place. “Cazzo…”

The door opened again and a young woman with an apologetic look appeared.

“Forgive my father. He doesn't trust outsiders,” the young woman said. Well, at least she spoke to you. “My name is Elena.”

“Sono (Y/N),” you said politely, shaking your hand with the young woman's, who frowned upon hearing you speak that way.

“It's clear that you're not a villager,” the girl joked, closing the door.

“No, I'm Italian,” you said, with a business smile that you had already rehearsed.

The young Elena nodded curiously, glancing at your suitcase.

“Are you a merchant?” she asked, pointing at your merchandise.

You nodded slowly.

“Yes, I've come on behalf of a relative... His name is, or he calls himself... Duke,” you explained with a trembling voice. Your nerves couldn't fail you. At least you had managed to talk to someone.

“The Duke?” the girl asked, with a surprised look. “Wow, I didn't know he had a family.”

“Yes, but he seems to be the only one who is successful,” you murmured jokingly, pronouncing the words in the best way possible. “Well... Elena, right? Are you interested in something?”

“No, I'm sorry. I'm afraid we have everything we need,” she said, shaking her head with a kind smile. “My father says that books are a waste of time.”

“Sciocchezze,” you sighed with a mischievous smile, showing her a vinyl record. “What about music? It's the sound of the soul.”

“No, no, I... I'm afraid we don't need anything like that,” Elena shook her head again.

“Oh, great,” you said, letting your smile fade at the thought that you couldn't even get enough money to recoup the investment of the trip.

“Don't be offended, just…” the young woman said, gesturing with her hands to emphasize her apology. “… We just work to live, that's, that's all we do, anything else would be entertainment.”

“Oh,” you said curiously, arching your eyebrows.

“But, um…” the girl said, looking around. “Maybe, maybe I know someone who might be interested.”

“Do you?” you asked.

Elena nodded, briefly pointing to a large house that stood out from the orchards.

“Luiza has always been a very cultured woman, and she is very kind. Maybe she would want to listen to you,” the young woman explained, in a kind tone. You blinked, looking at the indicated place, and smiled. “She lives up there, in the orchards.”

“Elena!” A loud voice was heard inside the cabin and the girl shuddered.

“I'm coming, father!” Elena shrieked, with another apologetic look. “Sorry, (Y/N), but…”

“Oh, of course, there is no… Pro-problem,” you said nervous about the impatience of that unpleasant man. “Luiza… Okay. Ciao!”

At least that girl helped you not to lose hope.

Elena wasn't lying, that Luiza seemed a bit different from the rest of the villagers, kinder, smarter, with an understandable English... It seems that you interested her enough to invite you into her house.

“Wait there, I'll make tea,” she said kindly, indicating that you sit at a table where a man seemed to be sharpening a knife with a distrustful look. After a few tense seconds, the man left his task, looking at you with distrust.

“So you're a merchant...” he whispered, tilting his head and crossing his arms.

“Yes,” you answered, with that well-rehearsed smile.

“And an outsider...” he whispered, with a sinister smile. “Luiza says you are related to the Duke...”

“That's right,” you said, without losing your merchant composure.

He laughed, shaking his head.

“Wow, I didn't know the fat man had a family,” the man said, with the same surprise in his voice as the young woman before. “Where are you from?”

“Italy,” you said proudly, ignoring those dark eyes, which hardened when they heard you answer.

“Italy, you say?” he asked, leaning a little towards you, narrowing his eyes. “You say you're related to the Duke?”

“Y-Yes,” you stammered, confused by that change in attitude.

“Mm, are you sure you're related to the merchant?” he asked suspiciously, making you nervous. “Hey, maybe by any chance you know...”

“Ahem,” Luiza interrupted, serving you the cup of tea. “Marcus.”

“What? I'm just asking, the girl says she's Italian,” the man, her husband, apparently, protested. “You and I know who…”

“Marcus,” Luiza said, with a firmer tone. The man shook his head, sighing in defeat. “Don't scare the poor girl.”

“Bah, if she's not scared yet, she must be brave, or stupid,” Marcus commented, laughing amused. You made an effort to smile at that little joke, smelling the delicious aroma of tea.

“Okay, (Y/N), unlike my husband, I’m interested in those foreign items… Do you have any opera records?”

“Oh, sure, sure,” you said, as if coming out of a confused thought, opening your suitcase and putting on a display of everything you had.

Well, you did manage to sell a few things. You would always be grateful to that woman, the only kind woman in that place, apart from the young girl, of course. But even with that partial success, you didn't have enough to feel like you had succeeded.

If that woman had bought you something, nobody was telling you that there couldn't be more Luizas in that place. You just had to find them.

You were ready to leave that house, when a small book caught your attention. It looked like a book full of old photographs of the village. You approached it with curiosity while Luiza kindly opened the door for you.

“Um, sorry, but... Can I take a look?” you asked, pointing at the book. The woman looked at her husband and he shrugged, making a vague gesture of farewell.

“Of course...” the woman sighed, faking a smile. You returned it gratefully, starting to turn the pages of that album. “This village is an old one.”

“I see,” you commented nodding, turning pages and pages full of snowy landscapes. “My family had told me about this place, but... Well, not much. What is this?” you asked, pointing to a kind of square guarded by four large statues.

“Those are the… The four founders of the village,” Luiza explained. “The Dimitrescu family, owner of the castle; the Moreau family, owner of the lake lands; the Heisenberg family who owned a metal factory on the outskirts of the village, and the… The Beneviento family, the doll makers.”

“Oh,” you sighed interested, not even hearing the names very well, you were more attentive to those old photographs. “Does anyone live in the castle? I'd like to visit it.”

“Um, no, I…” the woman stammered, making you frown. “I don't think you should go near it, (Y/N).”

“Isn't it open to the public? What a pity,” you said with a disappointed voice.

Luiza made a strange gesture, shaking her head.

“Young lady, take some advice from me,” the woman said, speaking in a very low tone, approaching you with a hand on your shoulder. “You must leave this place.”

“Why?” you asked, confused, looking away at another of the photographs, one with a beautiful mansion, guarded by a waterfall.

It quickly caught your attention, even making you ignore the kind woman's warning words.

“Because…” Luiza sighed, with a broken tone, as if she were afraid of something. “It's not the best place for an outsider.”

“Oh, yeah, well,” you said, amused, gesturing with your hand. “I have people skills. That's not a problem. Tell me, is this house in the village?”

“Oh, that house…” Luiza murmured, looking at the same photograph.

“It's impressive,” you said curious. “Does anyone live there?” you insisted, running your hand over the drawing of what looked like a symbol, one with a moon and a sun.

“It's, it's far from here,” the woman commented, closing the album and subtly pushing you towards the exit. “Listen to me, don't go near that place. It's very dangerous.”

You shook your head with wide eyes, pulling your suitcase.

“Everything here seems very dangerous,” you commented with a low voice and a frown. The woman put on a sad look, caressing your cheek in a strange way.

“Go away, (Y/N), go away before the shadows invade you,” Luiza whispered, turning her back on you and closing the door softly, leaving you petrified on the floor.

“Cosa diavolo non va?” you asked yourself with a strange grimace, slowly moving away from the house.

Ignoring these strange warnings, you walked aimlessly through the village, looking for someone who wasn't afraid of your presence, or who wouldn't bow their head, ignoring your greeting.

Tired from your erratic walk, you decided to lean against a stone sculpture, in the middle of another snowy square. Failure loomed in your thoughts, in your mind, wondering if perhaps with the Duke present, things would have been different.

You looked at your watch and sighed, it was still early to leave, and even more so when you had barely sold four things. You had to make an effort, either that, or try another nearby village.

The crows flew above you like a bad omen that you couldn't interpret. The sky was dark, gloomy.

Don't let the shadows invade you...

Luiza's words echoed in your ears, words you didn't know how to interpret, or rather, that you didn't want to interpret. You were in a different country, in a different culture, lost in that snowy, sinister village. Even though you believed that nothing could go wrong, a bad feeling began to haunt you.

Yes, maybe it was time to leave.

You stood up with a defeated gasp, shaking your head, depressed by your ridiculous failure. But, you had barely taken two steps when something caught your attention.

In front of you was a wooden door, a kind of fence that separated a private property. Above the frame, there was a symbol, one that you remembered having seen before: that moon and that sun.

Your mind was left thinking. Yes, surely that would be the way to the waterfall house. It had to be. Luiza warned you to not get too close but… Curiosity was calling you.

Okay, it wasn't a huge castle but… Still, that mansion couldn't belong to just any villager. The curious relationship of wealth, bigger houses and kindness that you found in the village made you think that maybe someone rich lived there, a person or family with enough money to think about leisure or wisdom.

“Mm,” you murmured curiously, approaching that place, looking at that symbol closely. The door was open. You almost thought you heard whispers that encouraged you to enter that dark path.

You swallowed when a cold breeze came out of that darkness. Your body trembled for no reason, but your mind was blinded by greed. You couldn't miss that opportunity to know what or who was on the other side, who lived in that place.

The sunlight illuminated the path you had to follow with increasingly less intense rays. Slowly, you followed that luminous advice, entering through the wooden door, walking towards the unknown.

It didn't seem like a very strange place, or so you thought. The trees seemed sad, that place seemed devoured by time. Strange objects hung from the almost rotten branches, which you passed by without flinching.

You simply kept your mind busy, like a danger blocking mechanism that seemed to alert your subconscious. Instead of worrying, when you saw that those things hanging from the trees were dolls, you simply whistled, making your way through the branches with a slow walk.

You passed an old wooden bridge, one that said: go away in all possible languages. You were never good at interpreting those words, those screams from your mind that demanded your attention.

The sunlight diminished as you walked, it was getting dark. The branches of the trees drew disturbing shadows that surrounded a pair of ruined cabins.

“Brr,” you shivered when you saw those wooden claws stalking you.

The smile never left your face, but your body began to notice the symptoms of that inner fear; a dizziness, a feeling of heaviness in your stomach... All of these were physical signs that seemed to want to stop you in your tracks.

You even thought that the tea or the fruit you ate at Luiza's had upset your stomach. No, you didn't see the danger in any way, or rather, you didn't want to see it.

Finally you reached a clearing, where a mound showed a sinister grave you didn't want to approach. Your stupidity and your desire for wealth were so strong that you thought it was perhaps a simple decoration.

“Un ascensore...” you murmured when you reached a red door, surely the entrance to that curious mansion.

Biting your lip, you rubbed your hands entering those metal bars. Of course, whoever lived in that place had to have a lot of money, and, above all, a great desire to spend it. You fantasized about what you were going to find: a rich family? A widow, perhaps? A wealthy man? Maybe one of the founders of the village’s descendants? It didn't matter who it was, but you could smell money from miles away.

When you got out of the elevator, the sight in front of you forced you to stop. There was that house, that huge house with a beautiful waterfall next to it.

“If this doesn't work, I'm leaving the business,” you said, rehearsing in your head the phrases to say to the inhabitant of that place, greetings, smiles, all your charms.

The sound of the falling water relaxed you, although you didn't know why you were even nervous. The word danger whispered in your mind like a premonition or intuition, but you let the waterfall completely eclipse it. The beauty of that place couldn't entail any danger, you were convinced.

You cleared your throat as you approached the door, slowly climbing the steps. At the moment, there was nothing that matched Luiza's warnings, nothing, until, before you could knock on the door, it opened with an ominous creak.

“Um, hello?” you asked, seeing how, in front of you, there was nothing but a beautiful wooden room, with a rocking chair that moved by itself. “Ciao...” you repeated in a lower voice.

There didn't seem to be anyone in that place and you sighed, relaxing your shoulders and looking around.

“Oh!” you squealed in fear when you looked down, where, what looked like a ventriloquist's doll was standing looking at you. “Oh... Cazzo... What...” you said upset. “Good... Good trick...”

Smiling, thinking that, like the gravestones in the clearing, this was just a joke, you crouched down curiously, looking at that puppet.

“Hello?” you repeated, standing up again and ignoring the doll, which, perhaps because of the accumulated fatigue, you thought was following you with its gaze.

“Down here, stupid!” a high-pitched screech scared you again, making you fall backwards, tripping and crashing your body against the hard stone of the porch.

But neither the pain of the fall nor the fright were the worst. Yes, you were not dreaming, if it was a joke, it was the best one you had ever seen.

That doll, that damn doll moved, moved its articulated mouth, laughing out loud.

“Who are you?” the puppet asked, approaching your collapsed body. You backed away scared, crawling until you reached those small steps.

“Ahhh! Una bambola parlante!” you shrieked in fear, standing up as quickly as possible with your hands in front of your body.

“Who are you calling a talking doll, you silly, silly?” the puppet asked.

No, there was no doubt. There were no strings, no ventriloquist, it was alive.

“Ah, io, io… What?” you stammered nervously, shaking your head, blinking hard to make what was undoubtedly a hallucination go away. It didn’t.

“Wait, wait, wait, can you repeat that?” the doll said, approaching with a comical step. “What did you just say?”

“Cosa?” you asked, grabbing your suitcase, ready to run away. “Sorry, I… No, no… What?”

“You called me a talking doll,” it said, crossing its arms.

You nodded confused.

“I'm, I'm, I'm sorry... No, no...” you stammered, still shocked and scared by the impossibility of that old toy. It couldn't move, it just couldn't.

“Who are you?” it asked again. “Why do you know Italian?”

“I-I-I'm Italian,” you stammered, shaking your head.

The doll tilted its head curiously, looking you up and down.

“You're a long way from home, you silly Italian,” the doll commented in a mocking tone.

You blinked again, scratching the back of your neck, searching all over the doll for the mechanism that was supposed to make it behave like that. You didn't find it.

“I-I'm a merchant,” you said with a broken voice. The doll nodded, walking towards you quickly, climbing up your dress. It was too close, you couldn't move.

“Merchant?” it asked again, looking at you as if it was reading your soul. “What do you sell?”

“I sell… I sell… Books and… Vinyl and… Movies…” you explained when the doll finally got off your body, without taking those cold eyes off you.

“Books and movies?” the puppet asked.

You, nervous, still scared, nodded erratically.

“Do you have Italian stuff?”

“S-Sure I have,” you whispered in a small voice.

“Mm,” the doll murmured turning around, but looking at you several times before disappearing into the darkness of the mansion. “Donna, Donna! You have to see this, come, come!”

“Donna?” you asked yourself, gathering enough courage to walk back to the door, where, after a few seconds, the sound of heels approached.

In front of you was a woman, a woman dressed completely in black, with a veil covering her face. She had a stoic pose, she emanated danger, and even more so when you saw that she was holding the doll in her arms.

Even if she was the most experienced ventriloquist in the world, she could never have done that, it was simply impossible.

“She's pretty, huh, Donna?” the doll said, nudging the lady, who sighed tiredly. “An Italian beauty knocking on your door, not even in your dreams could you imagine something like that.”

“Angie…” A hoarse, dark voice came out of that black veil while the woman lowered the doll to the floor. It laughed amusedly, staring at you again.

“Um, well…” you murmured confused, with your gaze fixed on that black veil, on those invisible eyes that you knew were watching you. “H-Hello…”

There was no answer. The lady didn't even seem to be bothered by your words.

“Um… I'm… I'm (Y/N),” you said, putting fear aside and politely extending your hand towards her, who looked at it briefly, without returning your greeting. “No? Okay… Well…”

“I'm Angie!” the doll shrieked, grabbing your hand instead of its owner and shaking it roughly. “Nice to scare you!”

“H-Hello… Suppongo…” you whispered, still confused but, mysteriously, more relaxed.

“Forgive her, she doesn’t like to talk,” the doll explained, pointing at its owner in a mocking way. “Shall I tell you a secret? She's Italian too.”

“Oh, really?” you asked, looking at the lady, who nodded briefly. “Che strana coincidenza…”

“Perché strana?” that hoarse voice asked again, the voice of that mysterious lady.

“Oh, well…” you said embarrassed, of course, that doll hadn't lied to you. “No, it's nothing…”

“Che vuoi?” the lady in black asked again, her tone lighter, but reflected impatience.

“I'm, I'm a merchant,” you said again, trying to smile, making a superhuman effort to make that strange situation stop being so strange.

After all, she was the inhabitant of that place, and she was also Italian. The business seemed to call you…

“She sells a lot of things, Donna!” the doll shrieked, pointing at you. “Things you like!”

“Mm,” the woman in black murmured, looking over your shoulder at the merchandise. “Me li può mostrare?”

“Oh, sure, sure…” you said nervously, heading towards your suitcase and opening it on the floor, closely followed by that strange doll, which didn't seem to want to leave you alone.

“Look, Donna, your favorite record!” the doll squealed, rummaging through the merchandise without any kind of hesitation, under your watchful gaze, and hers.

The lady took that vinyl, observing it carefully. You almost thought you heard a slight laugh coming out of that veil.

“È, it's a special edition,” you murmured when you saw how interested she seemed to be. “You, you know… Come prima… Più di prima…” you sang in a timid and horrible way.

The veiled lady looked up with a sigh.

“Are you also a singer?” she asked with a weak, whispering voice.

You laughed nervously shaking your head, with your cheeks slightly blushed.

“No… The truth is, I’m not… Although, although they've always told me that I have a beautiful voice,” you said timidly, looking sideways as Angie rummaged through the books.

“Mm,” the lady murmured with disinterest, looking at the vinyl again.

“Donna, Donna! Nonna's favorite book!” the doll squealed, handing her one of your books in perfect condition. “Look, look, this one isn't broken!”

“I have that one on sale… If, if you're interested… Donna, right?” you said with your voice cracked by nerves, playing with your sweaty hands.

“Donna? Lady Beneviento for you, silly!” the doll snapped at you, in a haughty tone.

“Beneviento?” you asked involuntarily, knowing that you had heard that name somewhere.

Of course you heard it. Like a whisper of help, your mind recalled Luiza's words, those that explained to you the families who had founded the village. Of course, that Donna Beneviento was an important person in that place. Despite everything strange, your greed took precedence, she seemed truly interested in what you were selling.

The mysterious woman nodded slowly, leafing through that book with curiosity.

“I’m sorry, Lady Beneviento,” you said elegantly, lowering your head. You knew she was not an ordinary villager and therefore, you could not treat her as such.

“Vieni,” she whispered, gesturing for you to enter the house.

You nodded nervously, closing your suitcase and pulling it into the mansion, with an extra weight. That living doll had climbed on top of it, swinging its legs in a playful way.

“Hey, do you mind?” you said nervously. The doll, obviously, shook her head.

You groaned, still in disbelief, and when you looked again you saw something strange.

There was a portrait, a portrait hanging on the wall of the stairs. On it, there was a woman, a really beautiful, gorgeous woman with a pale face, serious eyes and black hair. Next to her, there was that puppet, the Angie doll. Would she be the lady?

Lady Beneviento cleared her throat, getting your attention, letting you know through her non-verbal language, that she didn't want you to look at that portrait. You decided to be good and obey.

“Sit down, I'll make some tea and we'll talk business,” the woman whispered, pointing to a cozy corner of that house.

“Sure... Yes, um... Thank you,” you said with a kind smile.

The woman in black looked at you for an almost awkward moment and then turned around, walking slowly towards a hallway. You followed her with your eyes until she disappeared.

It was a strange situation indeed. Perhaps you should have listened better to your survival instincts.

After what seemed like an eternity, the lady returned, serving you a cup of tea with an elegant gesture and sitting in front of you.

“Grazie…” you whispered with a grateful smile, blowing on the steaming liquid. “Truth be told, I didn't expect to find someone who spoke my language… I've never been good with English.”

“You seem to speak it quite well,” she commented, with a regal pose, barely moving, not letting anyone see for a moment what that black veil was hiding.

“I have no choice, I guess,” you sighed, shaking your head.

“Do you trade all over Europe?” she asked curiously as you opened your suitcase again, your hands shaking.

You weren’t there to chat. You had gone to do business. You couldn’t forget that.

“No, I… Well, I used to trade only in Italy,” you explained with a sad smile.

“Where in Italy are you from?” she asked again as Angie, with the suitcase open again, rubbed her wooden hands, rummaging through your stuff with an evil laugh.

You looked back at the lady, a bit confused.

“Da che parte d’Italia vieni?” the lady repeated with a slightly darker voice. “Nord, sud…?”

“Oh, yes, Well… I was born in the city of… This may seem like a joke to you but… I’m from the city of Benevento,” you said with a shy smile.

You didn’t want her to think you were laughing at her. It was just a stupid coincidence.

“Mm, why would I think it's a joke?” she asked, with a tired sigh.

“Well, because of your… Your last name… It's quite similar, isn't it?” you said with a fake smile. “Are you from around there?”

“No,” the lady answered dryly, without bothering to shake her head. “I was born here.”

“Oh, okay…” you murmured, glancing at the doll, who was shuffling through your books. “Hey, um… be careful…” you said to the doll, who made a mocking gesture, imitating your voice in an unpleasant way. “Hey, la, la bambola…”

“Angie”

“Yes, Angie…” you repeated with a frown. “Why is she alive?”

“That's none of your business,” she said, with a cold voice, one that ran through your nerves, putting them on alert again.

“O-Okay, sorry,” you murmured, looking down.

“Do you have Italian movies?” she asked after a tense moment, one that you took advantage of to hide your embarrassment in the teacup. “Film.”

“Oh, yes, yes of course…” you said nervously, reaching for the suitcase, rummaging through your messy things due to the Angie doll, who protested with a grunt at your hand. “I have a lot of these.”

“Mm?” the lady murmured, looking at the cover confused, opening it and taking out the disc. “What is this?”

“A, a movie,” you said, clearing your throat. “A DVD.”

“DVD…” she whispered, looking at her reflection in that shiny disc, visibly confused. You couldn't believe she didn't know it. That village was definitely stopped in time. “I'm sorry, I'm afraid I don't understand you.”

“Um, well…” you said, scratching the back of your neck, wondering how you were going to explain that to this mysterious woman. She didn't seem to be joking, at all.

“Hey, it's like a mirror!” Angie squealed, climbing onto her owner's lap and comically looking at herself in the disc, turning it curiously. “I want one, Donna, I want one!”

“Ugh, va bene…” the lady whispered, putting the DVD back in its place and handing it to the doll, who jumped victoriously. “It's still not what I'm looking for.”

“What… What are you looking for?” you asked, flashing your fake saleswoman smile again.

“Don't you have any 28mm rolls?” the woman wanted to know.

You nodded confused.

“Yes… But, but they are, they are special, I mean, I mean… They are… They are molto costose, you know… They are, they are almost museum relics,” you said, taking a metal box out of the suitcase and opening it, displaying its contents.

“Fine, I want them,” she murmured, nodding and snatching the box from your hands. “Money is not a problem.”

Well, that phrase fostered a more sincere smile on your face.

“Va bene… It is…” you said nervously, taking out a notebook in which you wrote down your sales.

“I'm not finished,” she interrupted you, leaving the box on the floor. “I also want those books.”

“Those? Which ones?” you asked confused by her vague description.

“All of them,” the lady said abruptly, leaving you glued to the seat. “I've been asking the Duke for that classic novel collection for a long time.”

“The Duke? Oh, well, I'm related to him,” you said smiling, taking the books out of the suitcase and leaving them on the table.

“You?!” Angie asked in a shrill voice, getting too close to you again. “Come on! You don't look like that fat greasy guy!”

“Fat greasy guy?” you asked amused. “Well, I don't really know him, but it seems that in this village you do it quite well.”

“Oh, yes, he's a scammer!” Angie shrieked laughing amused. “Isn't he, Donna?”

“Mm…” the lady nodded, distracted by the books.

That scared you.

“Oh, I… I'm not like him. I'm always fair with prices and… Cazzo, don't think I'm trying to rip you off or anything like that… Cazzo.”

“Do you mind stopping talking like that? I don't like rude girls,” Donna snapped at you, with a dangerous, annoyed tone.

“I'm, I'm sorry, it's just that... Well, I'm not used to being understood,” you explained with a different blush, one that was accentuated when a shy laugh came out of her veil.

“It was just a joke,” she said amused, more relaxed, surely fascinated by that collection of books she was looking for so much. “Do you want some more tea?”

“Oh, yes, per favore,” you said, extending your cup towards the teapot, with a calm smile.

“I still don't know what a girl like you is doing in a place like this...” she whispered after a moment of calm silence, one that served to, little by little, get you used to that sinister atmosphere, and that doll.

“It's a long story...” you sighed, leaning back on the old sofa.

“I have time,” she said, with the same tone as you. “I'm sure you'll appreciate having a chat in your native language, right?”

“S-Sure…”

As if you had suddenly forgotten what you were doing there, or how much time you had left to leave, you began to chat calmly with that strange woman.

At first she seemed gloomy, reluctant to hold any kind of conversation but… As you explained everything that led you to the village, your concerns, your goals… Well, her attitude relaxed quite a bit.

The short, dry sentences turned into a soft voice, into shy laughs from time to time. It seemed that she had gained some confidence with you, or so that living doll hinted. After your hectic trip through Romania, a chat in your language effectively lifted your spirits, it was almost like feeling at home.

On the other hand, that erratic behavior of the lady in black never ceased to surprise you. Like the rest of the villagers, she seemed not to understand or comprehend very well the outside world, the time in which you lived.

To your surprise, she had never even set foot on Italy. Yes, her family came from there, but, incredibly, Donna had never been there. But that was not the only thing that was curious, so were the words that claimed she had never left the village.

It might seem that this woman, with money, with power, from an important family, had little or no interest in traveling, in leaving this sinister time capsule.

But that was not the case. Her words were full of sadness, her sighs, that nostalgia with which she listened attentively to your words... It seemed as if deep down she wanted to leave, as if, for some reason, her stay in the village was some kind of condemnation for her.

The mansion grew darker as time went by as you talked, sharing impressions, tastes, hobbies… It was almost as if you had just met a friend, a friend with an interesting voice, with a beautiful body, with a subtle but intoxicating lavender perfume…

Your cheeks betrayed those erratic thoughts about the lady in black and you shook your head several times.

You, a cultured girl, a fan of romance novels, always tended to idealize that kind of situations. You didn't want to believe in love at first sight, but you certainly didn't know what it felt like, if it was even possible.

No, no, no, no… You couldn't think about that, despite how attractive Lady Beneviento was to you. Everything had an end, and sooner than you would have liked, yours came.

Sighing, finishing your last cup of tea, you looked at the clock and almost choked.

“Oh, cazzo!” you said hurriedly, getting up from the sofa. “5 o'clock, if I don't hurry…”

“What's wrong?” the lady in black asked, getting up too, playing nervously with her hands.

“I'd love to stay and chat but… If I don't make it to that stupida’s bus, she will leave without me and…” you explained, gathering that was left in your suitcase. Donna had bought almost everything without thinking about it.

“Are you going to leave?” she asked in a whisper, with a voice that, at least to you, seemed sad.

You looked at her and nodded with a polite smile, extending your hand towards her, a hand that, this time, she shook briefly.

Damn, her hands were very soft…

“It's been nice meeting you, Donna,” you said kindly, turning around to walk towards the hall.

“Are you going to let her just leave? Silly Donna…” you heard the doll whisper in an indiscreet manner.

“W-Wait, wait a moment,” the nervous lady said, running to meet you, making her veil move, inducing your mischievous eyes to look at what was underneath. “D-Do you really have to go?”

“Yes,” you said with a confused look, totally innocent.

“W-Wait, I… I…” she murmured, approaching slowly. “It's dangerous to go out at night.”

“Hey, can someone explain to me what it is that scares you so much about this place? And why are there living dolls?” you asked with an impatient tone, remembering each of the villagers' warnings.

“I'll explain everything to you, but, but only if you stay with me a little longer, just a little longer,” the lady said, in a tone that sounded curiously desperate. “Per favore…”

“Please, please!” the doll repeated in a shrill tone.

“Um…” you stammered, unable to find an answer, a desire to stay that you knew existed. But that village had already given you so much trouble, you wanted to leave, but at the same time, you didn't.

Damn senseless crush… How can you even know if you really liked that woman?

“Okay,” you said, letting your words speak for themselves, sighing as you looked at your wristwatch, knowing that, even if you ran, you wouldn't make it to the bus on time. “Hai un telefono?”

The lady nodded, pointing to a small table.

You walked slowly past her, checking how, in a disturbing way, the doll and owner followed you with their gaze.

“Irina?” you asked when someone finally answered, after a few tense moments.

“Oh spaghetti, it's you!” the driver of the bus screamed. She seemed agitated, as if she was running away from something, or so you sensed, there was too much interference. “You have to… Help me! Wolves… Monsters…! Call the… Lice!”

“Cosa? I don't understand you, are you okay?” you asked with a frown, that stupid girl seemed to be in danger.

“No…! No…! Mother Miranda!”

After those screams, the call was interrupted, leaving you disoriented. Seeing you like that, Donna approached, taking the phone from your hand and hanging it slowly, as if somehow those screams hadn't surprised her.

“It seems that there are some connection problems,” Angie mocked, laughing, but stopping when the lady suddenly looked at her, as if she had said something she shouldn't. “Oops…”

“I think she wanted me to call the police… Who is Mother Miranda?” you asked confused, with your heart racing.

“She’s the leader of this village,” Donna murmured, with a somber voice. “But don't worry, she won't hurt you, I won't allow it.”

“Hurt? Um, hey, Donna, I think, I think Irina was in trouble,” you said nervously, focused on finding out what had happened.

“You'll be in trouble if you go out at night, silly! You have to stay here!” Angie yelled at you, pointing comically at the floor.

“Oh, no, no, I don't want to disturb you,” you said with a trembling voice.

Your intuition wasn't wrong at all, but... In that house, you didn't seem to be in danger.

“You're not disturbing me, I like your company,” Donna said, with her hands in front of her body, with an elegant posture, unfazed by what seemed to be the death of the bus girl. “Do you want...? Do you want to cook something for dinner?”

“Oh, um, yes, dinner... Um...” you said confused, nodding without really knowing why. “Va...Va bene...”

As if you had forgotten what had happened, as if that call hadn't taken place, you went down to that dark basement with the lady in black and started cooking. It was a fun, entertaining time.

You both shared your own recipes, your special ways of doing things. Your mind had forgotten about going home, it had forgotten where you wanted to go, why you wanted to leave. The only thing you knew was that you wanted to stay with that dark Italian Lady. You wanted to talk to her, laugh with her.

Yes, you started to believe in love at first sight, you had no doubt that it existed, you were experiencing it.

Day and night began to dance before your eyes, the sun and the moon. How long had you been there? You didn't know. Had it been days, weeks, months? You weren't sure.

Cooking, reading, watching those movies… Any excuse was good enough to forget about your problems, to forget you had a place to go back to.

Maybe darkness had invaded you but… You had become addicted to her, to Donna Beneviento, to that strange woman and her doll, to her voice, her words, her laughter… To the lavender of her perfume…

“Sale,” Donna said, extending her hand so you could give her the jar she needed while, like so many days, like so many times, you cooked with her.

A curious routine, cooking, cleaning, sewing… Something that your own conscience used as payment for being a guest who didn't pay for her stay but… Were you really a guest? What were you?

“I've never seen anyone making pasta,” you said curiously, leaning your elbow on the counter. Donna laughed amused, shaking her head. “Well, my grandmother usually…”

“You say I'm like your grandmother?” she joked, kneading calmly.

“No, not at all,” you said, amused, looking hypnotically at that curious dough. “I buy it ready-made, it's easier and faster that way.”

“Chi va piano…”

“Va lontano…” you finished, smiling again, with that damn blush on your cheeks. “It's true, you're right, Donna.”

She glanced at you briefly, giving you another of her beautiful laughs. You were so dazed that nothing mattered anymore, only waking up in that guest room again, only going downstairs to share moments with her, only her, only Donna mattered to you.

“Wait, let me help you,” you said, picking up one of the flour sacks and putting it on the counter with a loud thud, raising a thick cloud of white dust. “Cazzo! Oh, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!”

The lady coughed, brushing the flour away with her hand, clearing her vision. It could be a comedian or a dangerous one, you didn't quite know. Her little apron was unable to stop all the flour, which landed on Lady Beneviento, including her veil.

“Tutto bene?” you asked timidly, brushing the dust out of your hair.

“Sì,” the woman in black murmured, accidentally removing her veil, shaking it in front of your wide-open eyes.

When she realized the mistake she had made, the mistake of showing you her face, she gasped nervously, shaking her head.

You stood petrified, admiring every inch of her beauty, a hidden one, one that you only sensed and you had just confirmed. No, a stupid scar couldn't be that important, it wasn't capable of hiding anything, of overcoming her beauty.

“Non… Non…” she whispered, turning around and covering her face with her hands. “Non guardami!”

“Donna, wait, wait…” you said nervously, putting a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t, don't cover yourself, You are… Sei bellisima…”

“No, no, no…” she repeated, nervously, pushing away your comforting hand. “Sei una bugiarda!”

“I'm not lying, Donna, really, I…” you said, trying to reason with those incipient sobs, with the trembling of her body.

“Now you'll want to leave… You'll make me hurt you!” she shrieked, completely out of control. You shook your head, ignoring that dangerous last sentence.

“Shh,” you whispered softly, turning her around, taking advantage of a slight moment of weakness. “I won't leave, I like being here.”

“No… Non é vero…” she said, moving away from your gaze.

You snatched the veil from her so she couldn't put it back on and, without thinking, you launched yourself at her lips, kissing them fiercely, just as you had wanted to do for a long time, you didn't know how long.

“Donna…” you sighed when you pulled away from the kiss, a messy kiss that she had a hard time joining.

Finally she did, caressing your cheeks, mouth agape by that sudden reaction, one that she was apparently also waiting for.

“You have come into my life like a savior, like a light that has passed through the darkness…” she whispered, kissing you again, losing that fear, that cowardice, the fear of being discovered, of you seeing her wounded face.

What Lady Beneviento didn’t expect, is that you would feel something for her.

“Per favore…Non partire…Rimani con me…Per sempre…” she murmured while your lips caressed each other, while the warmth of that unexpected love slowly passed through your body, until it reached your heart.

“Per sempre…”

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

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