#miranda i am kissing your face

[vampire-exgirlfriend]

Can we please just take a moment to stare at the incredible art of Daemon and Sabitha that @aegonx commissioned for me from @lonelymagpies because I am genuinely losing my mind over how beautiful this is. It's absolutely perfect and completely in line with how I see my love sick, war torn babies. The yearning, the longing, the outfits. And the hand size difference oh my god. I will never recover from this.

[letorip]

kiss with a fist [iii]

"your slaps don't stick, your kicks don't hit, so we remain the same"

===+++===

pairing: tara carpenter x reader

summary: you can't help but feel like maybe you and tara are more than frenemies, and it culminates in a night where you finally share some truths with each other.

warnings: a somewhat traumatic dream sequence lmao, mentions of sex, kissing (almost), curse words, blood

word count: 5.8k

A/N: hope y'all like this one because i definitely liked writing it. definitely a whole lot more kissing than fisting.... wait a minute....

it's 5 am, my ass is grass. anyways, part 4 relatively soon because woo wee theres still so much to explore in this story i legitimately cant believe my idiot self said it'd be done in 2 parts originally

===+++===

===+++===

"(Y/n)," a voice calls to you, sing-song and sweet as your eyes fade to darkness. It's a gentle woman's whisper, but it manages to hit you like a truck, pulling you down from wherever you came from, and plopping you wherever you've arrived. Or, rather, wherever you've always been. "(Y/n), look, darlin'."

A gust of wind gently strokes over the plane of your cheek, and when you open your eyes, all you can see is rye. On one end, it reaches out towards a sharp cliff, overlooking a lake, with nothing but rocks and the water below. On the other, it runs far up the plains of land in front of you, stopping in front of the white house you know all too well, with its rickety porch and broken tire swing.

You take a few steps forward, as if ready to run right inside, and then before you know it, you're running. Like the world is about to end, like the house is burning down, like you'll never see the place ever again. Foot after foot, you dash towards it, hearing Alisha's piano flit through the front window for the first time in years, and the smell of a pie right along with it. "(Y/n)!" the voice calls again. "Dinner time, kid!"—

But your foot catches on a root, just like it did in your memory, and in an instant, you've fallen down into the rye, with a painful thud, right on your face. You let out a grunt, feeling the dirt on your new, white shirt. The one your mother never let you wear when you were playing outside.

And when you right yourself again, sitting up out of the field, the house isn't any closer than it was before. It sits, perfectly far away, only all that stuff is gone now, and the house looks about as dark as it did the day of Mitchie's funeral.

"(Y/n)!" an excited voice calls from behind you. "Wanna play tag?"

"(Y/n)'s too old for that, Mitchie," another voice chides, and you whip around like Calvin would actually be there to chide him like that. Like he used to. But he isn't. All you can see is the rye. It stands in thick stalks, reaching up to your knees in lush groupings, tall and abundant, strong and growing.

Another voice. "Read me a story?" It's soft and it's a little girl's and it's far away, and you get to your feet and spin in a circle, waiting for her to appear. It seemed to reverberate through your ears, washing through the pathways of your brain before seeping into your heart. It fills it up, and before you know it, you can feel yourself hastily searching for her.

"'Randa?" you called into the open field. "Miranda? You there?" but she continues on like she didn't hear you.

"Would you read me a story? Please?"

"I will Miranda, but where are you?" you called back, raising a hand to shield your eyes from the barrel of the hot sun.

"I'm gone, (Y/n). You're supposed to be gone too," she says back, with a sweet giggle. "Why aren't you gone with us?"

"I—" you stammer, whipping your head around the field in search of your siblings. "I don't—"

"Do you really think that's fair, (Y/n)?" Calvin asks.

"Why aren't you here, (Y/n)?" Miranda asks again, this time her voice wavering like she was about to cry. "Why aren't you in the rye with us?" Your hands came up to your head, trying to squeeze your eyes shut and block out the noises, but they seemed to reverberate into your skull.

"Mitchie was your fault, you know," Peter chides. "We would've never let that—"

"—Why did you get to stay, (Y/n)?" Came Tomas' voice. "We're supposed to be cursed, and you're supposed to be cursed too." He was always the quiet one, but now his voice had a sharp edge to it. One of jealousy. One of anger.

"Why didn't you catch me?" Mitchie asked. "If you just would've caught me..."

"Come play piano with me, I'll teach you," said Alisha, in her light, airy laugh.

"Why did it get to be you?" snarled Calvin. "And why are you getting closer to Tara? You want to curse her, too?"

"Stop—" you stammered, squeezing your eyes shut tighter.

"Wanna play hopscotch?" said Mitchie.

"Do you miss us, (Y/n)?" Alisha said, in between tears.

"Yes, of course— I—" you tried, but now the voices were filling up your head, threatening to spill over and knocking you to the ground. You curled up into a ball as your brain filled up. Words piling up on top of words, piling up on top of words, about to split you open. "STOP!" you yelled.

And everything went silent. When you opened your eyes, you found yourself still in the field, but your siblings' voices had gone entirely. Now it was just you, in the field, alone with the rustling of the wind and the rye, as it grazed gently against your legs. You hadn't remembered standing up, but you were now.

In a flash, you could see a shape, running through the rye in a line that was very visible from where you were. You recognised the dark hair, and the yellow jacket he always wore. With the realisation came the looming dread, and you realised with very little time left what this exactly was a memory of.

You took off running, faster than you had to the house, faster than you had ever run, and faster than you had run then, chasing after him as he took off towards the cliff-end of your rye field. "Mitchie!" you yelled, trying to be louder than the buzzing cicadas, but it seemed the moment you yelled, the cicadas got even louder. He was too short to see over the stalks, but you could see him go, running in odd shapes as he got nearer and nearer to the cliffs edge.

"Catch me if you can, (Y/n)!" he called back with a gleeful laugh.

"(Y/n), grab your brother," called your mother. She didn't seem too worried, and she hadn't been, then. No one had been, until it was too late.

"Mitchie! Stop!" you cried out, feeling tears already beginning to fall down your cheeks. "Mitchie!" you tried again.

"Come on, you've gotta be faster than that if you're gonna be it!” Mitchie called back. "Catch me! Get me! C'mon! I'm gonna make it hard for you to win, Duck."

"MITCHIE! PLEASE!" you screamed, but all he did was giggle. “STOP! DON’T GO!” But the moment you reached the end of the rye, he was gone over the edge, just he had been when you were 13, and there was an arm shaking you awake.

===+++===

"Oh my god, you're about the least peaceful sleeper I've literally ever seen," Tara laughed, grinning at you from over her textbook. She had it pulled into her lap from her side of the table and titled against the table edge, and spread out in front of you were her papers galore, with notes scribbled all over them in preparation for her upcoming exam.

Mindy sat next to her, playing a stupid game on her phone, while Ethan was also studying in his own textbook. He had stopped trying to avoid you as much, as had Chad. You and Tara "dating" seemed to offend them less and less the longer it went on.

"Uh," you mumbled, still feeling a little bit disoriented from the dream. It was like a dose of adrenaline had been shot directly into your heart, and you struggled to adjust to the calm, peaceful library that actually was around you. "Shut up," you grumbled, but not like you were actually upset by her teasing.

Tara watched you with her eyebrows raised. "You look tired."

You sat up in your chair, running a hand through your hair. There was a small layer of sweat on your forehead. "Aren't you never supposed to say that to someone? Pretty sure that's how you get someone at the bar to throw their drink in your face."

"It is," Ethan nodded. "I made that mistake once. I was trying to be sweet."

"Good thing I'm not seducing you, then," Tara shrugged. "You've seen me puke everywhere. Pretty sure that ruined my chances right-out, and yet you love me anyways."

You grinned, leaning back to stretch out your arms. It was meant to be a gentle teasing from Tara, but you had only gotten better and better at deflecting the longer you were around her. "You'd be surprised, actually. That was super pretty. That was the prettiest you've ever been." Mindy snorted next to Tara.

Tara glared at you, unappreciatively. "And you're pretty when you do not speak."

"I'm pretty all the time, Tara," you mockingly shook your head. "And you think I'm joking. Find yourself a girl who looks nice covered in sweat, with her hair going everywhere, and puking in the toilet. That's my girlfriend."

"You're such a dick," Tara scoffed, but you could tell part of her was stifling a laugh. It was funny to her too, and you both had laughed at it together for days, afterwards.

If anything, it had gotten easier and easier, to act like the both of you were actually dating. You weren't too sure why, maybe Tara had become less annoying, or you had become less annoyed by her, but you had definitely at least become a better actor. That's what it was, after all. "Oh, also," she continued.

"Yeah?"

"Someone tried to call your phone, while you were sleeping. I think it was your dad."

You frowned. "You didn't pick up, right?"

"No," Tara said, shaking her head. Then she paused. She dropped her voice to speak just to you, guarding the conversation from Mindy and Ethan. "Do you and him not get along?"

You shrugged. "Eh. He was probably just checking in. We have a fine relationship." It wasn't true but it was an easy lie, that rolled off the tongue like nothing. He had already called twice, that day, and you knew why.

"Seriously, though," she said with a frown, looking up from her book. "You look fucking horrifying—"

"—Thanks," you said, flatly.

"—I mean, even more than normal, it's crazy—"

"—Thanks," you repeated.

"—Have you not been sleeping, or something?"

You shrugged. "I mean, I'm an architecture major, and it's midterms... so not really."

"Hm."

"What?" you asked, propping your head up on your arm. "What's the 'hm' for?"

She shrugged, trying to turn back to her textbook. "Hm, nothing."

You furrowed your eyebrows down at her. "Well, obviously the 'hm' was something, Tara." Mindy shot you a look again.

"Or it was just a hm."

“Would you two shush,” she said to you, rolling her eyes. “You bicker like an old married couple.” But you both ignored her.

"It's never just a 'hm.'"

"I say hm all the time. It's literally just a hm."

"No, it means you've got something to say but don't want to say it."

She frowned at the accusation but was obviously even more displeased that you were correct. "I was gonna suggest we go to the OBK party tonight, but maybe you should just go home and sleep. I was trying to be nice.”

You shrugged. "I won't be doing either, actually." Tonight was not the night for parties. You were somewhat grateful, that you had a legitimate excuse to busy your time, or else you would've spent even longer thinking about the dream. "I have to do homework. My final is due tomorrow."

Tara furrowed her eyebrows at you. "Wait, but I thought classes ended today."

You shook your head. "Nope. I've still got some stuff do."

"Oh," Tara frowned.

"Not all of us can have easy majors," you teased, trying to lighten the mood away from what was clearly concern.

"Hey! You chose the stupid thing," Tara shot back. "Not my fault I chose something fun." She stood up, gathering her things into a neat stack. The time was nearing for her midterm exam, and you stood up with her, grabbing her textbook to be helpful.

"Thanks," she said, then she wandered over and held out her hand. You grabbed it in yours, lacing your fingers together, just like you had practiced together.

The library was a tall building on the far side of campus from where you lived. It was a trek and a half to get there, which is partially why you had been a little annoyed, when Tara said she needed to go there. It ended up being the perfect place to fall asleep in, with the quiet signs and only a few murmurs now and again, and though it had been a less than peaceful dream, it was more than you had been getting for the past few days.

"I don't see why you can't just go without me," you shrugged, adjusting her book in your hands. "Just tell Sam I'll meet you there. Besides, Chad and Mindy are going to the same party, right?"

"Yeah, but I what if they realise you're not actually there and mention it to Sam, or something? And, I'd have to go there alone, since Chad and Mindy are going early."

"They are?"

"Yeah. Helping with set up. Mindy literally just mentioned that. Shows how much you listen to her.” She shook her head in a mocking disappointment in you.

“I was asleep, jerk.”

“I know,” she said, grinning.

You looked down to her, where she walked next to you, gently swinging your joint hands back and forth. "It's not a far walk to OBK. You could probably make it there in five minutes. It's well-lit, and—"

Tara frowned, shaking her head adamantly. "Not alone. Not without you, no way. Sam would want to see you at the door to pick me up. She'd probably hate the idea of it."

"Fair enough," you shrugged. "Find a movie at home tonight, then. Relax, or something. I'd kill to be done with this stupid project."

"What are you even making?" Tara groaned, breaking your hands to shove hers into her pockets. Actually, it was your jacket, and therefore technically your pockets too, but she had taken a liking to it, after your date. You had been less than pleased, when she asked to borrow it, considering how much the jacket meant to you, but she insisted it was assisting her to keep up the act. You figured you could part with it, at least for a little while.

"Architecture," you said with a thick layer of sarcasm. Tara rolled her eyes at you. She nudged you, and you couldn't help but laugh as her elbow pointed into your side.

"Oh, you think you're funny, huh?"

"I'm hilarious."

"You wish..." she scoffed, shaking her head.

It was a beautiful day in autumn, and the weather was soon to leave the sigh of brown leaves and rainy days and move into whispery winds and icy pavement. You didn't mind winter, but you didn't like the chills, even though it was undoubtedly what gave summer's warmth a certain sweetness. Still, nothing burned like the cold.

You walked her all the way to the door of the exam hall, stopping out front to hand her the textbook you had been carrying. You went to speak, but the moment you tried to open your mouth, your phone started ringing. You grabbed it from your pocket, sighing and declining the call, while Tara stared at you.

"Is that your dad, again?"

"No," you said. "Telemarketer."

"Right..." she said, frowning. "You're a terrible liar."

"Am I?" you challenged. You were, it was true.

"Why don't you want to talk to him?"

“I just don’t.”

“Yeah, I know. I’m asking why, (Y/n).”

"Why don't you leave it alone?" you shot, in frustration. You could see Tara's eyes narrow at your tone, and you felt a bit bad. There was the occasional reflex still, to bite each other's heads off. You weren't sure what it was about her, but something about Tara Carpenter always seemed to rile you up inside, and do the same for her with you.

"Sorry," you said, looking down at your shoes. "I just don't want to talk about it."

"That doesn't mean you have to be an asshole," Tara glared.

"Right... I'm... sorry."

Tara sighed. "I guess I'll see you next week?" She asked.

You nodded. "There'll be plenty of time after this, I just need to get this thing done."

"Okay," she nodded, failing to hide her excitement. Tara seemed to really love parties, the more and more she went to, and you were somewhat glad you could help her find something she enjoyed. It was nice to see, not that you'd ever say that to her. Doing that would absolutely result in her teasing you again, or something even more annoying.

"Good luck on your test," you said.

"Good luck on your project, babe," she said, drawing the name out.

“Now who’s hilarious,” you said with an eye roll. Tara winked at you, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“Me.”

===+++===

It seemed you were having no good luck on it whatsoever, actually. Laid out in front of you was all of your materials, in a messy pile of cut-out pieces and foam boards that were there, sure, but not likely to just jump together and put itself together on its own.

The clock had already ticked away to 12:33 in the morning, and your design was barely finalised to where you could get to work and finish quickly. All of the other students had left at a much more reasonable hour, and it left you standing at your table alone, quietly working to classical music in the empty modelling lab.

At this rate, you could be here for another two or three hours, and the project was due at eight. You were sluggish, slowly working through the plans you had set out days ago and working through the kinks.

Every few minutes, when you stopped for even a second, the dream seemed to rush back to the forefront of your brain. Your mother had been the one to call, that evening while you were eating a poor excuse of a dinner, and you had declined that call just like you had declined all the rest.

You were hunched over your work, probably unhealthily so, with your face buried in your iPad, hastily throwing out sketches of the various shapes. You were settling on a design that would have to do, heading for the woodcutter, when you heard a noise.

It resembled a door shutting, and you froze right where you were. "Greg?" you called out. There was no one else in the building except for you and Greg, at his usual security post, and you waited with bated breath for him to return your call.

But there was no response, and all you could hear was the sounds of classical music gently floating in the background. Usually, it set you at ease while you worked through whatever you were doing in the lab, but now all it did was raise your heart rate to match the increasing tempo. It was completely dark, except for the overhead light above you, which illuminated the table you were working at and a few of the stainless steel cabinets that held tools and supplies.

Then, off to the side, you heard a rolling. An odd, wooden rolling, slowly drifting towards you. On the ground was a pencil, gently pushed towards you, playfully rolling as if perfectly in front of your toes. You hopped to your feet. "Hello?" you called, squinting in the dim light, in case anyone else was there. "Is anyone there?" you called out again. "Greg?"

Now you could really feel the thumping of your heart. The modelling lab had always been creepy late at night, but this was a new level of unease. It was as if someone was watching you, playing with their food, and you swallowed down the lump in your throat. "Is someone there?" you said to the rest of the room.

"Hey!" said a voice, and you jumped what felt like five feet into the air.

"Fuck!" you shouted, spinning around and seeing Tara behind you. She jumped at your reaction, raising her hands up. In one of them was a tray with two coffees on it. “You scared me!”

"Woah, woah, are you okay?" she asked, face etched with concern. She walked towards you slowly, and you put your hands on the edge of the table, trying to calm yourself.

"Don't just sneak up on me like that, dude," you glared at her.

"I literally didn't, I fucking announced myself, loud as can be," Tara said, rolling her eyes at you. Then, it melded into concern. "How long have you been here?" she asked, looking around the place and its emptiness.

"Since I left you at your test," you shrugged. "How'd it go by the way?" Tara's eyebrows furrowed, ignoring your question instead for one of her own.

"Did you at least eat dinner, or something?"

"Yeah," you nodded.

"Good."

“Yeah…,” you trailed off, turning back to your work. “How did you know where I was?"

“I asked Chad. He’s still a little snippy with me about, well, thinking we're together. Tried to tell me that if anyone would know, it would be me, and I said, yeah, that’s true, but it’s only been three months, now.”

“Well,” you said, gesturing around to the lab. “This is the modelling lab.” You were a bit of a nerd about the whole place, showing it off like it was your cool superhero lair.

“I know,” Tara mocked. “I saw it on the giant sign above the front door.”

“Ha ha. Does Sam know that you’re here?” You asked, grabbing your pen and resuming your work while you continued to talk to Tara. She plopped herself down on the edge of the table, letting her feet swing.

She looked a bit sheepish at the question. “Uh… no.”

“You know she’ll kill me like she did that one time, if you’re not home when she wakes up,” you frowned, wandering over to the supplies and grabbing out a box cutter to help trim the pieces you needed.

Tara nodded. “I know. But I snuck out, so I’ll sneak back in.”

You turned back around to reply, maybe say something stupid, but you had to stop yourself from laughing, when you saw her legs hanging off the counter and not reaching the ground.

“What?” Tara asked, furrowing her eyebrows. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing,” you said, shaking your head and returning to the table. “…Dwarf.”

“Hey!” she said, smacking you on the arm. “I brought you coffee, don’t make me take it back.”

“That’s true,” you frowned, weighing your options. “Guess I can’t make fun of you; you brought me caffeine.”

“That’s more like it."

You worked in silence for a few minutes, feeling Tara watch your every movement. It was harder to work, under her scrutiny, but you were grateful that she was there. It wasn’t lonely in there, any more. A few months ago, you would’ve hated her guts for sitting around while you attempted to work. But not with Tara anymore. Not on that day.

“This might be an all-nighter,” you warned, sending her a small smile as you sliced a piece of foam in half and went to work to attach it to your board.

“Fine with me,” Tara shrugged. She just continued to watch you, in a calm silence. “Actually, I have beef with you,” she hummed.

You laughed, looking up while you secured the base with glue. “Why’s that, Tara?”

“You got that song, stuck in my head.”

“Which one?” You asked.

“The one you sang for me. I found it online.”

“Which one?” you teased, smiling again. Your face was tired and the smile certainly didn’t help, but you couldn’t help the newfound peace washing over you again. You had completely forgotten the weird happening from earlier.

“You know, don’t play dumb.”

“No,” you shook your head. “I really don’t know.”

“You literally do,” Tara scoffed.

“Sing a little bit. Refresh my memory.”

“Nuh uh,” she said, crossing her arms. “This is a trap.”

“It isn’t,” you insisted, sticking your pinky out to her. “Swear.”

She wrapped it in her own, rolling her eyes. She definitely knew it was, but she obliged anyway. “If you need a friend, don’t look to a strangerrr. You know in the end,” her voice broke on the low note like yours did, and you laughed while heat rose to her cheeks. “I’ll always be thereeee.”

“And when you’re in doubt,” you sang back to her, in between laughs. “And when you’re in dangerrr.” You both were tone deaf and the rendition was awful, but the mood in the lab was getting lighter and lighter the longer you were together.

“Take a look all around,” Tara sang, coming back in. “And I’ll be there.”

It was impossible not to laugh at how bad it was on both sides, and you grinned at her toothily, before turning back to your work. “Thank you for reminding me.”

“You’re welcome, idiot,” she teased, nudging you in the side again.

===+++===

You went back to working on your model, finishing the first floor in about an hour. You and Tara occasionally talked now and again, but mostly she just watched you while you worked. “Why are you doing this all tonight?” she asked.

“Uh…” you stuttered. “I didn’t have time the past couple weeks…cause of… well, you.”

She shot up to her feet, mouth dropping open. “Why the hell didn’t you say no to me?! I didn’t know you had all this to do.”

You shrugged. “I never mentioned it. Plus, you were having fun. I’m glad someone was enjoying themselves.”

“Oh…” she said, and it sounded small.

“What?” you asked, raising an eyebrow at her.

“…Nothing."

“It’s fine, Tar. Seriously.” She blinked at you.

“Tar?” she asked, looking amused.

You looked up from your work, feeling the change in the atmosphere. “What?”

“I don’t know, you’ve just never used the nickname for me, before.”

“Yeah, I guess not. Is it weird?”

“Well… no. I kind of like it.”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” she agreed, nodding a little. “My mom was the one who gave me the nickname Tar. Haven’t spoken to her in a little while, though.”

“Do you still miss her?” you asked, glueing your second story onto the base successfully.

“Sometimes…” she trailed off, staring out at the pitch black night through the window that hung over your workspace. "She calls me once in a while."

"Do you answer?" you asked.

"No," she admitted. "It's usually about Woodsboro. I gave up on her a few months ago, but she still calls sometimes about the town."

"You never talk about it..." you comment, trailing off with a hand on the back of your neck. "You don't have to, if you don't want to." You leaned back against the table with a curiosity, watching her face move as she struggled to answer.

"Well... it's cause I don't want to that I don't talk about it. You know how people say that shit about manifesting happiness?" you nodded, knowing what she was talking about. "Well, I keep saying I'm fine, and I'm moving on, but it just keeps following me everywhere. It's like this chronic cough I can't shake. This constant thing. No matter how much I run, it's always there. People don't see me as anything but one of the survivors."

You swallowed, feeling her words hit you. "I know what you mean." Tara's eyes snapped down to yours, but when you didn't volunteer more information, she sighed.

You frowned, turning yourself back to your work and hunching over, so she wouldn’t see the heat rising to your cheeks. “I, uh… I listened to that song you said you liked, too.”

“You did?” she asked, lighting up at the mention of it.

“Yeah… added it to my playlist… so…”

“So…” Tara laughed, amused by your awkwardness. It was somehow less awkward when you hated each other. The fact you could tolerate each other now was unusual but not unpleasant, and you still found yourself grappling with how pretty Tara’s eyes looked in lamplight. "If I get a nickname, you absolutely have to have one too."

You scoffed. "That's not at all what that means."

"You had to have had one at some point."

"No, I haven't had one," you said.

"Liar!" Tara said with a giggle, pointing at you with her finger. "You're so bad at lying it's remarkable. Now spill. What is it?"

"I'm not lying!" you insisted, but now you were laughing and it was even less convincing.

"C'mon, promise I won't say it in public— unless it's really bad."

You stared at her for a moment, when she clasped her hands together in a begging plea.

"Please?"

"No," you shook your head.

"Please?"

"Nope."

"Pleaseeee?"

"Fine," you sighed. "My family, they used to call me Duck."

"Duck?" She asked, leaning back to look at you as if the nickname would re-contextualise your entire appearance. "Where'd that come from?"

"It's dumb. I used to wear this yellow raincoat when it was storming outside and these orange booties, so my little brother Mitchie saw me, when he was like five or six, and said I was a Duck. And so I was Duck."

She smiled at you, genuinely pleased with the explanation. "That's adorable. Where is Mitchie, tonight?"

You opened your mouth but shut it. Then, you opened it again. "Probably watching cartoons, or something. Back in Nebraska." (A/N: my ass genuinely did not know that was a U.S. state until right now)

You couldn't tell her that today was the day he had died, several years ago. That a year or two before that had happened, Calvin had gone, and a few months before that, Tomas and Alisha had passed too. That Peter had gotten sick, or that Miranda had gone missing before any of that mess had happened. That you were the only one left.

It was a bad lie, and probably one you would regret later, but it was one you ushered past, and Tara didn't seem to pick up on. From one cursed person to another, you figured it was probably best that you keep your own curse to yourself. It's part of what had made you hate Tara so much at first. She walked around knowing her days were likely numbered, so carefree and careless. And then there was you, you who was so careful in order to keep living.

But you couldn't resent her for that. It had melted away with seeing the Tara underneath. The real, beautiful Tara underneath.

"Duck is good, though. I'll bring it out when I want to embarrass you," Tara smiled, inching closer on the table.

"Yeah?" you grinned back at her, standing up to gently tap against the glue. It was set, and your model was finally finished at 4:42 in the morning. Tara leaned close, watching the glue with her own eyes, cheek almost up against yours in curiosity.

You finished the thing, looking over at her and her large, warm brown eyes, staring at the model you had made with so much curiosity and genuine interest. Tara hadn't lifted a finger to help, but you couldn't help but feel like it was partially hers.

You went to pull back but found your face turning towards hers, looking at each other for a long moment. Your eyes lingered on the slope of her nose, down to the curvature of her soft lips, turned up in the corners like Tara always did when she smiled. They looked so soft, and before you knew what was happening, you could feel Tara's hands coming up to the sides of your face, thumbs gently stroking against the skin there.

You couldn't breathe, feeling the warmth of the pads of her fingers on your face and the faint brush of her breath upon your nose. "Tara," you whispered. The pull was magnetic, and just as you were about to say to hell with it all, her phone began to vibrate in her pocket, and you both leapt apart from each other.

You wandered a few feet away, trying to seem busy while she answered it. You could feel Tara watching you while she spoke on the phone, so you did your best to hide the blush that was certainly spread wide across your cheeks.

This was the very girl you had spent the past several months hating. You suddenly felt dizzy, like the world would slip out from under your feet. Tara, the very same annoying girl who had pestered with you and bickered with you. The one who had so much more to her that what you had ever thought possible. The one who drew you in. The one in search of a hook up, for which you were only the decoy. You cleared your throat, whipping around when you heard Tara say "What?!"

"What's wrong?" you asked. "What's going on?"

She crossed her arms over her chest, looking up at you like she was about to cry. "They're questioning Sam again. They think Ghostface is back."

===+++===

DUN DUN DUNNNNNN anyways my ass is going to bed now. also i do not recommend anyone lie to someone they're interested in about who they are, ESPECIALLY an attempted murder victim

[a-leg-without-fear]

The Miranda to His Ferdinand

this is actually the response to this ask from the lovely @yarrystyleeza!!! i was so frickin inspired and ended up writing this :)

Ship: College!Matt Murdock x f!Reader

Rating: 18+

Wordcount: 1.3k

Warnings: lots o' Shakespeare, kissing, suggestive material

Series: Request Fulfillment

Your dorm's mattress creaked as you and Matt settled on top. He sat to your left, braille script clutched in his hand, with his sunglasses tucked into his shirt collar and his hair ruffled after a long day. An easy smile settled over his full lips.

"What's the play, again?" he asked, an eyebrow cocked as a large hand swept over the front page of his script. Long fingers traced the raised bumps on the solid white pages.

"The Tempest," you replied with a sighed chuckle, "It's about a woman, Miranda, who's lived on an island her whole life, knowing only her father and their slave, Caliban. Ferdinand shipwrecks on their island, then he and Miranda fall in love. Typical Shakespeare stuff."

Matt laughed at your synopsis, shaking his head, "And you're auditioning for Miranda, I'm guessing?"

"Nope, Caliban," you snarked in return. Matt rolled his eyes as you stuck your tongue out at him.

"Alright, Caliban. Which scene are we reading?"

"The last part of Act Three, Scene One," you said, flipping your script to the correct page, "Should be page ten in your booklet."

Crinkling pages filled the comfortable silence between you. It was quick work to find the correct page, considering the section you'd be reading from was labeled "MIRANDA AUDITION." The booklet lay open in your palms as you scanned briefly through the lines. You could almost feel the adoration formed by the prose, the pure affection woven into the words. Shakespeare truly was a genius.

"Okay, page ten," Matt announced, breaking your silent reverence of The Bard. You cleared your throat.

"Right. Ready?" you asked as you straightened your posture. Matt nodded, gesturing for you to start. A deep breath filled your lungs, chest expanding like a balloon, as you tamped down your nerves.

"Do you love me?" you read from the script. You glanced at Matt out of the corner of your eye. His lips ticked up in the corners as he read his part.

"Oh heaven, oh earth, bear witness to this sound," he began, fingers rapidly skimming over the pages, "And crown what I profess with kind event if I speak true. If hollowly, invert what best is boded me to mischief. I, beyond all limit of what else in the world, do love, prize and honor you."

You couldn't breathe. Not when Matt's sightless gaze was fixed right between your eyes. Not when this profession of love came from him so earnestly. Not when your years of pining after him had finally bubbled to the surface.

"I-I am a fool," you stuttered. You shook your head, clearing the distracting thoughts, then tried again, "I am a fool to weep at what I am glad of."

Matt placed his free hand on your knee. Your heart pounded against your ribs, anticipation leaking into your blood like ink in water.

"Wherefore weep you?" he read softly. His dark eyes traced the space around your head. Almost searching, scouring for your answer in the planes of your face.

"At mine unworthiness, that dare not offer what I desire to give, and much less take what I shall die to want. But this is trifling. And all the more it seeks to hide itself, the bigger bulk it shows. Hence, bashful cunning, and prompt me, plain and holy innocence. I am your wife, if you will marry me. If not, I'll die your maid. To be your fellow you may deny me, but I'll be your servant. Whether you will or no."

A tense silence fell over the two of you like a sudden burst of snow. Your pulse coursed rapidly under your heated skin. The weight of the line you'd read felt world-encompassing. Would he understand that it wasn't just you reading words? That the meaning behind them is what you felt?

"My mistress, dearest, and I thus humble ever," Matt whispered, a faint glance of understanding passing behind his eyes. You swallowed a lump the size of a baseball.

"My husband then?"

The hand nearly burning a hole in your knee wrapped its fingers around your own.

"Ay, with a heart as willing as bondage ever of freedom. Here's my hand," Matt breathed, fingers tangling with yours. Your breath caught behind your lips. This is happening.

"And mine, with my heart in it," you said shakily.

That same silence. Charged like the static before a lightning strike. Nearly choking you with how intense the moment felt. The pad of Matt's thumb rubbed circles into the back of your hand.

“Does Ferdinand get to kiss Miranda in this scene?” he asked, gaze landing on your lips. Your heart leapt like a horse over a hurdle. Swirls of anxiety and finally! chased each other through your mind.

“It-it’s not in the script, but I think ad-libbing is more than okay,” you said as your heartbeat roared in your ears. Matt’s signature, cocky smirk pulled at his lips.

His hand seemed to move in slow motion as it lifted from his braille script and cradled your jaw. Palm warm, almost searing, and calloused like you could barely believe. Yet you’d never felt anything softer. His thumb passed over your flushed cheek slowly, giving you plenty of time to pull away, before it caught on your bottom lip.

“Is this okay?” Matt asked, voice barely above a whisper, as his thumb pulled gently on your lip. A shudder rolled over your spine like rumbling thunder.

“Yes,” you uttered with a quick nod.

Before you could blink, his lips were pressed against yours. Lightning struck your mind and rendered you breathless. Shocks coursed through your veins. Your heart nearly stopped beating.

He was kissing you.

Matthew Michael fucking Murdock was kissing you.

You quickly reached out and clung to him like he was your lifeline. You didn’t want this moment to end. This singularity that felt impossible, your whole life building to this one kiss. 

Warm fingers carded through your hair and tangled in the strands. Matt pulled you closer, your chests pressed together. He swiped his tongue along your lips to silently ask permission. You more than welcomed the intrusion as an involuntary moan kicked up your throat, opening your mouth to grant him entrance. A groan of his own matched yours in kind. He licked into you like you were the first drop of water after a month in the desert. Drinking from you, clinging to you, almost desperate.

Your head was spinning. You could barely breathe. Your hands shook where they clung to Matt’s t-shirt.

And just like that, it was over. Matt parted from you like separating two strong magnets. His forehead rested against yours, heaving breaths puffing along your cheeks. You screwed your eyes shut at the loss of his lips on yours.

“I could… I could do that forever,” Matt laughed breathlessly. You grinned as you opened your eyes. His sightless gaze was fixed on you. Pure adoration flowed from his joyful expression, how his eyes crinkled in the corners and how his dimples dug into his cheeks. You couldn’t help but match his wide smile.

“Me too,” was your clever response. You inwardly groaned at your quick wit. Matt chuckled, placing a chaste kiss to your hairline.

“When’s your audition?” he asked, like how close he was didn’t render your mind completely useless. You took a moment to gather your deteriorating thoughts.

“Tonight. At eight,” you said. Matt hummed.

“And what time is it now?”

You glanced at the digital clock that sat on your nightstand. In bold, red letters, the clock displayed “4:48 pm.”

“Almost five,” you replied. Matt ran the tips of his nails over your scalp. Pulses of pleasure coursed through you, your head tipping back in his hands, as your eyes fluttered shut.

“I think that’s plenty of time to run the scene some more, don’t you think?” he suggested, voice a low rumble deep in his chest. All you could do was nod.

And if rehearsal ran long, who were you to object?

[willalove75]

Alcina's New Maid Pt. 23 Lady Dimitrescu x Reader

Summary: You and Alcina spend a cozy morning in bed before going to pay the prisoner a visit.

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI.

Tags: some smut, dash of sub!alci and a little soft!dom reader

Notes: Part 23!

I am SO sorry this has taken LITERALLY over a month for me to finish!! But I think I have a pretty valid excuse, for those of you who didn't see my latest update - I'm pregnant!! And it's a boy! The first trimester was ROUGH, I wasn't vomiting but I was so sick. I'm 17 weeks and am feeling much, much better! (Aside from hip/lower back pain, according to the old wives tales that's common when pregnant with boys lolz) anyway I'm hoping to update much more regularly now that I'm finally feeling better!

Click here for the rest of the series

The morning sunlight filters in through the window, gently waking you from your slumber. The feeling of a heavy arm draped across your stomach let you know that Alcina was still in bed with you. Turning over to face her, you come across a sight you don't see very often - if you've seen it at all. Alcina asleep on her stomach, one arm under her pillow under her head and the other keeping you close. Her usual pristine and perfect curls are sprawled out across the pillowcase with a few rogue strands hanging down into her face.

She looks so peaceful, if not for her size you would think she was human in this moment. Your eyes dance across her sleeping features. Her skin, riddled with scars and marks that she covers up with makeup, her over-plucked eyebrows that she also corrects with makeup are on full display. You notice how long and dark her natural eyelashes are as they rest on the tops of her cheeks. Her full pink lips, the laugh lines that rest at the corners of her mouth, everything about her is so beautiful.

You delicately tuck a strand of hair hanging in her face behind her ear, hoping you don't wake her up. But of course, Alcina is one of the lightest sleepers you've ever met - honestly you're surprised that turning in her arms didn't wake her.

Her eyes flutter open and beautiful gold irises look back at you.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you up."

"Don't be, I am surprised I fell back asleep."

"Did you get up at all last night?"

"No," she says, shaking her head and pulling you in closer. "I laid here all night with you in my arms. I considered getting some work done but I couldn't bring myself to let you go."

Alcina nuzzles into your hair, taking a deep inhale and exhaling with a content sigh.

It wasn't until her hand rested against your bare back did you realize you were still naked from the events of the night before. You tuck yourself under her chin, trying to get as close as possible. Alcina kisses the top of your head and holds you against her chest. An audible purr rumbles through her as she buries her nose into your hair.

You can feel her purrs vibrate through your body and you can't help but lightly chuckle.

"What are you laughing at?" She asks, nuzzling into you more.

"Nothing, it just seems like both you and the dragon are enjoying yourselves this morning."

Alcina huffs into your hair and shakes her head.

"I suppose we are. It does seem to enjoy your company." She mumbles.

"I have a feeling I am going to enjoy her company as well. As long as she doesn't try to kill me again." You joke.

Alcina pulls away and narrows her eyes at you. You can see the hurt in her eyes, the regret she stills holds onto from that day.

"That is not something to joke about." She says with a deadly serious edge to her voice.

"I'm sorry. I only joked about it because I've been able to move past it. I don't want you to keep blaming yourself for what happened."

"I will because it was my fault."

Bringing your hand to cup her face, you brush your thumb across her skin.

"It was Miranda's fault, not yours. And I am going to remind you of that every day for the rest of my life if I have to, Alcina. I love you. I forgive you. I want you to forgive yourself."

Alcina closes her eyes with a sigh. She places her hand over yours and presses it into her skin. When her eyes open again they're glassy with unshed tears. Alcina opens and closes her mouth a few times, trying to find the words to respond with.

Instead of waiting for her response you lean in and press your lips into hers. Her golden eyes flutter shut and she kisses you back. The kiss turns from one of understanding to one of passion. Your tongue grazes her bottom lip and she parts them, allowing you in. The hand she had against yours on her cheek moves behind you before she rolls onto her back, pulling you on top.

As the kiss intensifies you bite down on Alcina's bottom lip and tug at it. A moan escapes from her and you bring your lips back to hers to swallow it. Your hands travel down her neck, past her shoulders to the tops of her breasts. She arches into your touch and you take as much of her massive breasts into your hands as you can - the only thing separating you from her skin is the thin fabric of her nightgown. Another moan slips past her lips into yours when you begin to massage her breasts. Taking her nipples between your fingers, she whimpers into your mouth causing to you moan in response when you roll them.

Last night she worshipped you, now you get to return the favor.

Releasing her breasts from your grip you grab the thin straps of her nightgown and pull them down. Alcina slides her arms out and you pull the silk down to her waist. She groans when your hands find her breasts once more and you start kissing down her jaw towards her neck.

She threads her fingers through your hair as she guides your kisses further down her body. As eager as the both of you are, you still want to take your time to try and kiss every inch of skin you can so you fight against Alcina's pushing a little. She groans at your silent protest and you respond by nipping at her collarbone, causing her to take a sharp inhale. Of course the mark immediately disappears but you're pretty sure you got your point across when you feel her grip loosen.

You kiss across her other collarbone before slowly making your way down towards her sternum and between her breasts. Her nipples harden in your hands and your own patience begins to wear thin. In one swift motion you pull away from between her breasts and take one of her hardened peaks into your mouth. Alcina's groan quickly turns into a moan as you circle your tongue around it and suck. Just before it becomes too sensitive you release her nipple with a pop and latch onto the other one, repeating your ministrations.

Moans pass through Alcina's lips as you suck on her. She certainly wasn't expecting this to happen this morning but now that you've started, she might go crazy if you stopped.

The silk of her nightgown is soft under your touch as you run your hands down her stomach. As you reach her hips you gather the fabric and begin to bunch it up before releasing her other nipple from between your lips.

Alcina's legs fall open and her hand rests on the top of your shoulder. Looking up at her you take in the sight before you. A true goddess, with her head thrown back into the pillow, her usual perfect and pristine curls splayed across the pillowcase. Her eyes are closed and her lips parted in anticipation for you to reach your next destination. She gently pushes down on your shoulder, giving you a not-subtle hint to where she wants you to go next.

Sliding between her legs, you leave open mouthed kisses on the exposed skin of her stomach as you make your way down. You place one last kiss above the band of her underwear before getting settled. Taking in the sight in front of you you see the large wet patch in the middle of her lacy underwear. Reaching out, you run your fingers up and down the wet spot, causing Alcina's breath to hitch with a groan.

Her hips begin to gently roll against your touch. Placing a kiss on the inside of her thigh, you rest your hand on top of her mound and let your thumb circle her already swollen clit. She lets out the softest whine that causes you to smile into the skin of her thigh as you continue to pepper it with light kisses.

It surprises you how sensitive she is until you realize how long it's probably been since her last release. Jealousy begins to set in when you realize the last person to touch her was that maid. The last person to unravel Alcina was that maid. Right then and there you make the decision to make sure no one will ever be able make her feel as good as you can. It becomes your mission to make sure no one else's touch but your own will ever be able to unravel her again.

Abruptly, you pull your hand away and she lets out a groan of frustration. Before she can protest any further you grab each side of her underwear and practically yank them down her long legs, throwing them aside.

You kiss your way back up the inside of her thighs before settling between her legs once more. Looking up at Alcina you see that her eyes are squeezed shut but you want her to see you pleasure her. You want her to see that it's you driving her into bliss.

"Alcina," you say as you plant kisses into her soft, muscular thighs. "look at me."

Alcina hears your request but can't bring herself to open her eyes. Last time she did it crushed her that it wasn't you between her legs. She's terrified that if she looks it won't be you there. So she shakes her head "no".

Nipping the inside of her thigh, she whimpers.

"Look at me." Again, she shakes her head no. "Alcina, my love, look at me."

The smell of her arousal is intoxicating, it's so tempting for you to say "fuck it" and feast on her as she's spread out before you, but you stay strong.

"My love," you say as you kiss the inside of her thigh again. "look at me, please."

Alcina rolls her hips towards your mouth but you do your best to push them back down, and much to your surprise you're able to - she doesn't put up much of a fight.

"I want you to look at me Alcina. Look at me."

The throbbing between her legs begins to surpass the fear she has. After taking a shaky inhale, she opens her eyes and looks down at you as she props herself up on her elbows. The air in her lungs stalls when she sees that it's you between her legs. Relief washes over her and she melts into the mattress as her body relaxes.

A smile pulls at the corner of your lips as your eyes meet her golden ones. You see the look of relief, of passion burning in them. There's almost a look of desperation, a silent plea for you to continue.

"Good job." You say. A wave of arousal courses through Alcina, she definitely wasn't expecting you to praise her and she definitely wasn't expecting the praise to turn her on even more. "Now keep your eyes on me. Can you do that?"

Alcina silently nods her head "yes" and you lower your mouth down to her. You lick a broad strip up her dripping slit, just barely brushing over her clit. Her moans fill your ears as you moan from her taste on your tongue.

Looking back up at her, you notice her eyes are closed and her head is thrown back. You nip at the inside of her thigh to get her attention and her head snaps back towards you.

"Eyes on me." You say.

Alcina goes to protest but before she can utter a word you dive back in and the words die on her tongue. Anything she was about to say was replaced by a string of soft curses and moans. Your eyes flick up to make sure she's still looking at you and you see her golden irises staring back. You smile into her and swipe your tongue over her clit before capturing it between your lips.

A large hand grips the back of your head and Alcina cries out as you lick and suck on her throbbing clit. Every time you check to make sure she's still looking at you, you see her eyes trained on you.

Doubling down on your efforts you flick your tongue over her clit faster as it throbs between your lips. Alcina's legs begin to shake and just as they start to tighten around your head, just before she's about to fall into bliss, you pull away.

Her fingers holding onto the hair on the back of your head tighten almost painfully as she cries out at the loss. Looking back up at her, her eyes are glowing with frustration and she growls at you.

"Shh," you say, kissing the inside of her thigh. "let me take care of you. Trust me my love." The grip on the back of your head loosens and her eyes soften. "Good, keep looking at me."

She nods her head and you lick up her slit once more before bringing three of your fingers to her entrance. After you coat them in her arousal, you part her lips and slowly push in. Alcina moans above you as you push your fingers in and pull them out before pushing them back in once more. You repeat this motion a few times before thrusting down to your knuckles. She lets out a moan when you start fall into a rhythm and curl your fingers into her velvety walls. Three fingers may feel good for her but you know it's not enough so after a few more thrusts and curls you add a fourth finger.

Alcina moans grow louder and you feel her clench down around you as you continue to thrust and curl your fingers. With her eyes still focused on you, she begins to rock her hips to the pace you've set.

"Oh, draga." She moans.

"Am I making you feel good my love?"

"Yes." She says with an exhale.

"Can you take more of me? Do you want me to fill you baby?" You ask as you thrust hard into her and curl your fingers.

"Yes!" She cries. "Please my love, give me more!"

Folding your thumb across your palm, you slide your whole hand into her and you feel her walls stretch around you. Alcina lets out a filthy moan yet her eyes never leave you.

"Good job, I know how much you love feeling me fill you. I know you missed this, didn't you?" You ask as you pick up the pace.

"Yes! I missed you inside of me, I missed you so much draga mea!"

Your thrusts become faster and harder as you feel her walls flutter around you. The tips of your fingers feel that spongy spot deep inside and you push further into it before your fingers curl. Alcina lets out a scream as you start to pound against that spot.

"Oh fuck, draga! Right there!" She cries as her hips rock harder against your hand.

"Right here?" You ask as you curl against that spot again and she cries out as she stares down at you. She couldn't pull her eyes away from you even if she wanted to in this moment. "No one knows you like I do, isn't that right? No one else knows exactly what spot to hit to make you see stars, do they?" You ask as you continue to fuck her.

Unable to form words, Alcina shakes her head "no" as more moans leave her lips.

"That little maid could never fuck you the way I do, could she?" Alcina's mouth hangs open and she shakes her head "no" again. "Answer me." You say before swiping your tongue over her clit.

Alcina's hips buck into you and she cries out.

"No! She could never fuck me the way you do! No one could ever fuck me the way you do!"

"Good girl." You say before latching onto her clit and sucking on it.

Alcina's moans and cries grow louder and you feel her walls beginning to clench around your hand. She's getting close but you want to drag it out as long as you possibly can.

"Not yet." You say before flicking your tongue over her clit again.

She lets out a frustrated groan and throws her head back.

"Uh-uh, look at me." She rolls her head forward and her half-lidded eyes lock onto yours. You can see in her eyes how close she is. "Not yet baby, not yet."

Alcina whimpers as she tries to hold off her orgasm. You push her further and further, her legs begin to shake around your head as she does her best to stop from falling over the edge.

"Almost, not yet." You mumble into her.

"Please." She whimpers. "Please my love."

Your eyes snap up to hers and you see the desperation in her eyes, a complete submission you've never seen before. The look in her eyes spurs you on as you thrust faster and suck harder on her clit.

"Draga, I - I can't -"

"Cum for me baby."

Alcina's body trembles and you can see the explosion behind her eyes before they roll into the back of her head as she lets out a scream. She clenches tightly around your hand as you continue to fuck her through her orgasm. Her clit throbs wildly in your mouth and you flatten your tongue against it as she bucks against you, letting her use your mouth as she rides it out.

Her cries soften and her walls start to relax. You swipe over her clit once more with your tongue - causing her to whine - before pulling your soaked hand from her. Alcina's chest rapidly rises and falls as she continues to come down from her high, trying to catch her breath. Aftershocks cause her hips and legs to twitch around you.

Crawling up next to her, Alcina opens her eyes and looks deeply into yours. Before you can say anything she pulls you into her and kisses you with an explosive passion.

When your lips part she buries her face into the side of your neck as the last of the aftershocks course through her. You run your fingers through her hair and kiss her head as she holds you tight.

Alcina has never relented control like that before with you. Even when you were pleasuring her in the past she was always in control. You wonder if she's ever let someone else take control before. Maybe before she got the cadou, but you're almost certain that she's never let someone else have control after.

She pulls away and looks into your eyes. You notice how watery they are and you cup her cheek and smile at her.

"Thank you." She says softly, holding back her tears.

"Of course. I love you."

"I love you, draga mea."

When your lips meet you feel a warmth flood your body. There's no hunger or desperation in the kiss, just pure love. She kisses you slowly for some time before your lips finally part. Alcina rests her forehead against yours and holds you tight.

"I love you so much. I am never letting you go ever again." She whispers.

"Good. Because I never want to let you go." You say back.

The two of you bask in the afterglow for a while longer, just holding each other in your arms while exchanging soft, slow kisses. It's moments like these with her that are your absolute favorite. Moments where the rest of the world disappears and it's just the two of you cuddled under the duvet. Your fingers trace her larger ones, in awe of how much bigger her hands are than yours. How soft her skin is, how strong they are. For the first time you really get a good look at the tips of her fingers and her fingernails. It fascinates you that her near perfect manicure can become such dangerous, beautiful claws in an instant.

"Does it hurt?" You ask.

"No. It was rather uncomfortable at first but I grew used to it over time."

"Was it hard to control?"

"I wouldn't say it was hard, but it did take some getting used to in the beginning. There were plenty of instances where a poor maid was in the wrong place at the wrong time and she was accidentally sliced to ribbons."

"What happened?"

"They were more difficult to control when I was in fits of anger - which happened often back then. They seemed to have a mind of their own."

"Like a defense mechanism?"

"In a way, yes. So if I wasn't careful about my movements or how close I was to someone when I was angry, well, lets just say it didn't often end well."

"How long did it take you to control them?"

"Not very long, a few years perhaps. Although still to this day I can feel them itching to come out when I'm upset or angry, but I have much better control now than I did then."

"Do you file them?"

"Every so often, yes. But the wear and tear of my everyday work naturally wears them down so they're not as sharp."

"Is this the shortest they go without you having to trim them?"

"You are so full of questions this morning." She says with a smile as a light blush dusts your cheeks. Alcina kisses the side of your head before answering. "This is their natural length, but when necessary I can retract them further. It can be uncomfortable but it's worth it so I don't injure my partner during certain... activities." She says with a smirk.

You thread your fingers through hers and cuddle into Alcina with a giggle. Alcina nuzzles into you and kisses you on the head before letting out a sigh.

"Nooo." You whine, knowing what her sigh meant.

"I know draga, but we've been in bed all morning. I have a long list of things that need to be done today, including speaking with our prisoner."

Grumbling into her shoulder, Alcina lets out a laugh before pulling you close and kissing you one more time before throwing the covers off of the two of you.

You try with all of your might to hold Alcina down but she quickly overpowers you and flips you onto your back. She clicks her tongue at you as she leans down.

"Valiant effort my darling, but unfortunately you do not have the strength to overpower me just yet." Your bottom lip pushes out into a pout and she clicks her tongue at you again. "Oh, what's the matter my love? There is no pouting after such a wonderful morning." She says before leaning down and placing a chaste kiss on your lips.

Alcina sits up and gets out of bed, not before tapping you on the thigh, prompting you to get out of bed as well.

"Come now draga, we have many things to do today."

The two of you get dressed and make your way down to the dining room for breakfast. During your meal Alcina goes over what she has to do today with the girls and discusses what she wants to happen with the prisoner.

"After breakfast we will pay him a little visit. Draga, if you would like to join us you are more than welcome to, but you are under no obligation."

"I would like to come, but I can stay out of sight. I just want to see if he tells you everything."

"What do you mean by that?" Cassandra asks.

"Y/n here went and visited our prisoner yesterday."

"You went into the dungeon alone?!" Bela asks.

"And you didn't die??" Cassandra asks.

"Why would you do that?!" Daniela yells.

"Girls, that's enough. We already spoke about it last night. There is no need for you to interrogate her about it, but I appreciate your concern for her wellbeing." Alcina says before turning back towards you. "Draga you are more than welcome to stay within earshot if you would like and if you want to make an appearance you may do so."

"I just don't want to see him get hurt."

"We will make sure you are escorted out of the dungeon before any of that takes place."

"Thank you." You say with a smile.

"Of course, my love."

The rest of the meal flies by and as the time to go down to the dungeon gets closer, you slowly begin to lose your appetite.

The girls finish their meals and Alcina swirls the rest of her wine in her glass before downing it in one gulp.

"Alright girls, I believe it's time to go visit the prisoner."

"I can't wait to take a bite out of him." Cassandra says with hungry eyes.

"And you say I'm always hungry." Daniela mumbles.

"Because you are! You insatiable beast!" Cassandra snaps back.

"Am not!"

"Are too!"

"Girls. Enough. I need you to either take this seriously or you will not participate. Do you understand?" Alcina says with a stern look.

"Yes mother." They reply in unison.

"Ready, draga?" Alcina asks, reaching her hand out towards you.

You nod your head and take her hand in yours.

"As ready as I'll ever be, I guess."

"Then let us go."

Alcina leads you from the dining room towards the dungeon door. The closer you get the harder you feel your heart pounding in your chest. Bela, Cassandra and Daniela swarm down the stairs in a fit of excited giggles and Alcina stops at the top of the steps before kneeling down to your height.

"Are you sure you want to come, my love? I don't want you to feel pressured to be there."

"I know, but I want to. I have to. I just need to know-" you take a deep breath and Alcina nods at you, not needing you to finish your response. She knows why you feel like you need to come, that you need to see for yourself if he was as innocent as you thought he was - as you wanted him to be.

Alcina looks deeply into your eyes before pulling you in for a kiss. Immediately, your body relaxes into her touch and you smile into her. When your lips part Alcina stands back up and takes your hand in hers. She guides you through the dungeon door and you know there's no turning back now. You can only hope he tells them the truth - the whole truth. Not only does his fate hang in the balance, but so does the remainder of hope you've been clinging to.

"Well, here goes nothing." You say to yourself as you take the final steps towards the cell.

[daydream-cement]

In The Closet (NSFW)

Miranda Hilmarson x Reader

Miranda comes to visit you in the storage closet.

Second weekend in Smutember with @alexusonfire! The first week prompt is over the clothes!

The door to the file room opened and closed quietly behind you, making you glance over your shoulder. Your eyes narrowed skeptically at your girlfriend who had entered who's smirk gracing her lips was as mischievous as ever.

“What are you doing all holed up back here?” Miranda inquired, approaching you from behind. Her height allowed her to glance over your shoulder to the case files stretched out before you.

“I ran out of things to do, so I am alphabetizing the files like they should be.” You huffed as you thought over all the work you had done in the past hour. The same work that had been caused by some of your coworkers inability to put things away properly.

Miranda chuckled softly at your snide remark, her arms wrapping around your waist. The physical contact only melted you a bit as the annoyance you had for your coworkers still was in the forefront of your mind. “You need to relax, honey…”

“I need to finish my work.” You retort, craning your neck back to shoot her a look.

Miranda only hummed, her hands drifting to your midsection to begin tugging your blouse fabric from where it was tucked into your pants.

“Mir…” You warn, shifting away before she suddenly pulled you back to her body.

“Relax…” Miranda cooed to trail her hand over your pubis to cup your sex over your work pants. She knew exactly where to press her fingers so as to stir desire within your abdomen. Back and forth she rubbed her hand over your mound causing you to whine involuntarily. At the sound of your soft noises, Miranda whispered in your ear, “There we go…”

“Mir… We can’t…”

“Shhh…” Miranda hushed you and drew her free hand to grope your breast over your shirt. You braced yourself against the open drawer and file cabinet, trying to spread your legs the best you could to give her greatest access.

You felt yourself growing wetter and wetter at the way Miranda groped you. It was so possessive and dominant - a trait typically reserved for the confines of your bedroom.

“We should probably make quick work of this, huh?” Miranda whispered, her hand moved from your breast to wrap around your waist. She drew you backwards and sat herself on a chair, spinning you around, and guiding you to straddle her thigh. Her hands gripped your hips and she guided you in rolling your hips back and forth to grind against her.

You fell apart in her lap. Your forehead dropped onto her shoulder as the most desperate whimpers left your body. You pressed your hips harder and harder against her thigh seeking as much friction as possible to stimulate your clit.

“Let go of all that stress, beautiful.” Miranda cooed in your ear, her face nuzzling into your neck to press kisses against your throat. Her tongue gliding over your pulse point made you shiver as it coincided with a particularly intense roll of your hips, making you gasp.

Miranda’s hands gripped at your ass, but she allowed you to control the rapid pace of your grinding as you chased your peak. She tightened the muscles in her thigh and pushed it up into your cunt. You were whining and softly crying out as you jerked your hips against her thigh.

“Come on, sweetness. Come for me.”

You felt yourself choke back a sob as you knew you were close, but grinding over your clothes was a hindrance to the possibility of an orgasm.

The grinding of your hips was furious. You needed this terribly, but the orgasm alluded you. “I’m- I’m t-trying.”

You could hear your male coworkers roughhousing in the hallway. It felt so wrong that their presence outside the room made the grinding against the constable feel even better. The thrill of being caught with your girlfriend had you biting your lip and slowing your grinding to make each roll of your hips worth it.

You were happy with your change of pace as each roll of your hips made your whole body shake. You grunted with each shutter of your body. You were getting so close. Just a little bit more.

“Come on, beautiful… I know you are close.”

The way Miranda’s voice was filled with desire pushed you over the edge. Your body jerked and trembled as your orgasm washed over you. To steady yourself, you wrapped your arms around her neck and held her tight.

Only if you could have seen the delighted smirk on Miranda’s face as her hands traveled up and fingers splayed across your back. She hugged you close, resting her chin on your shoulder. “That’s a good baby.”

You giggled softly and snuggled closer to enjoy a few more moments of physical contact before you would both have to return to work.

Miranda’s grip on you loosened and she leaned back in the chair so she could look at you. “I actually came in to ask if you wanted to get dinner delivered to the station.”

“Easily distracted, hm?”

“When you are involved? Yes.”

You had to roll your eyes at the corniness of her sweet statement and lifted yourself from her lap before anyone could walk in on you. You didn’t make it far from Miranda when she stood and took your hand, pulling you back to her. She put her hand on your cheek and wrapped the other around your waist to kiss you senseless.

When she finally let you go, you were dizzy from the intensity she kissed you with.

The dazed expression on your face made Miranda giggle and squeeze your shoulders. “I’ll order your favorite, okay?”

You gaped and nodded, eyes soft as you looked up at your sweet girlfriend. Every day you couldn’t think you could love her more, but every day she proved you wrong.

Taglist: @charymobile , @bri-sonat , @weemswife , @smutuniversesblog , @opheliauniverse , @renravens , @whenyouhaveanobsession , @shyladyfan , @rubberduckiesbathing , @mcufanisme , @peanutbutterprincess , @larissaoftarthweems , @lvinhs , @myzzjolanda , @principal-weems09 , @imlike-so-gaydude , @emilynissangtr , @xuukoo , @brienneswife , @oculusalien , @sweetderacine , @giogwensversion , @milciak , @gela123 , @thevillagegay , @katiemcgrathsbitch1 , @naomi-m3ndez , @mysaviorfalsegod , @salems-spaghettios , @imgayforwoman69 , @bychrissi , @bitchr-mkay , @h-doodles , @alexusonfire , @weemssapphic

[thisgirlnamedblusy]

Dom! Reader, sub! Donna

Reader is a new maid/butler working for Donna who is secretly a vampire(not like the dimitrescu but different like she can survive any climate). She wears contact lense to hide her red eyes from her. Donna is unaware of all of this and continues to her things. Reader can smell her blood and she's obsessed with it. One time couldn't take it anymore, during night time she goes to her mistress' bed. Donna woke up seeing her standing in the middle of the night with her red eyes and she's terrified. Reader proceeds to drink her blood, she is savouring all of it so it was a slow process. Donna felt her blood draining and she's losing consciousness there's also tears in her eyes at this point. Donna didn't stop her but rather let her continue, the truth is that she's been in love with reader for quite sometime but is afraid to approach and even confess. Now she wanted to please her by making her drink her blood, maybe she'll love her as well. Reader stop drinking and looks at the semi conscious Donna, with all of her strength Donna proceeds to kiss her and then fainted. Reader felt guilty and took care of her until she woke up 3 days later. Reader apologised for what she did to her that night and they kiss.

Note: can you follow the story if it's ok with you, if not it's okay as well.

Happy ending plss

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

Red eyes, red like blood

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem, Vampire! Reader

Warnings: Angst, fluff, blood, reader POV

Word count: 7.540

Summary: She can't know I'm a monster....

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

She is not a suitable vessel for Eva…

Those were the first words I heard when I woke up from a dream that seemed eternal. I remember the golden glow of that mask, I remember being at the mercy of the priestess Mother Miranda.

I can't remember how I got there and what happened. I only remember the thirst, the hunger, my heart beating strangely.

After all, I was just a naughty girl who had a penchant for entering the dark places of the village. My parents always said that the Black Gods would punish me for my insolence. They were right.

I couldn't say if it was a punishment, or a gift, as the witch told me after talking about complicated technicalities, about parasites that I didn't understand. I could be clear about one thing. I was no longer the same.

 (Y/N) had changed, forever.

The mirror made me understand that great change, the red eyes that shone terrifyingly on my face were no longer mine, but from that moment on, they would never stop being mine. My skin turned pale, my head ached with every sound that was heard in that old laboratory. The thirst was unbearable.

“What am I, Mother Miranda?”  I asked the woman with the golden mask, that kind of living legend that led the village, that emissary of the Black Gods we had to venerate. The woman looked at me out of the corner of her eye, trying to write something on a piece of paper.

I couldn't make out the letters, I couldn't know what was written on that note, I could only look at her hands, those pale hands that let her veins be seen, the places where her blood flowed.

I got nervous. I fidgeted and tried to move. It was in vain, I was tied up.

“I suppose you're thirsty,” the witch murmured with disinterest.

I nodded, noticing how my lips cracked, how my body longed to fill that horrible emptiness.

“Mother Miranda… Could you… Give me a glass of water?” I asked with a broken voice. The blonde smiled and shook her head, searching for something among her belongings.

I didn't know what horrible things were in that place, I could only see her blood flowing through her body, my eyes never leaving every inch of her pale skin.

“I don't think that's what you want, (Y/N),” she whispered, extending a glass with a thick, red liquid towards me, one that made my eyes focus on it, my hands untie themselves from their bonds to reach it.

“Gods… What?” I said confused, looking at the already empty glass, flooding my mouth with that characteristic ferrous taste, the taste of blood.

“Better?” she asked, pushing that delicious liquid away from me. The thirst subsided and my mind cleared.

What had I become?

Miranda tried unsuccessfully to talk to me about what had happened, about the things that had happened to my body. I soon realized. I stopped listening to her scientific explanations.

I was always a great reader, a lover of mystery, of creatures of the night. It didn't matter what I called it, it didn't matter what kind of disease had taken hold of me. Only one word echoed in my mind, a terrifying word that repeated itself over and over again: Vampire.

Drinking blood, immortality, heightened senses. It was that disgusting mushroom, but what mattered was what I had become. I was a vampire, and I would be forever.

Luckily, or unfortunately, the priestess didn't see a threat in me. She didn't see the danger in my eyes, the way I looked at the veins on her neck. She simply let me go.

“What will I eat, Mother Miranda?”

“You can eat whatever you want, but if you want to live, you need blood.”

“Won't I die in the sunlight?”

“You're not a vampire, (Y/N).”

It was a lie. I was, there was nothing else I could be.

“What’s going to happen with me, Mother Miranda?”

Her hidden gaze darkened at that last question, as if she really didn't care but at the same time she was wisely pondering her decision, my destiny.

“Have you ever worked as a maid, (Y/N)?” she asked, with a sinister smile, one that even made a creature of the night like me shudder.

And so, after a time I couldn't calculate, my life became a hunt, trips to the forest in search of small animals to feed on.

She let me go, but assured me that I would return once I learned to control myself. According to her, there was something I could do, a mission for me, a job that would allow me to stay away from the village, but at the same time, close to her.

One witch, four Lords. That was the level of power in my old village.

My friends dreamed, fantasized about obtaining the grace of the Gods and serving one of them. Not me, they terrified me. But, now turned into a monster like them, now under the control of the owner of that place, my purpose, the task that was entrusted to me in that second and eternal life, was to serve, to serve a Lord, the veiled lady in black, Donna Beneviento.

According to Miranda, she was the youngest of the Lords, she was sick, she was erratic and lonely. For a newborn monster like me, it was the perfect place, a secluded place, surrounded by forest to be able to feed, a place to live in the shadows, just like the doll maker.

“Mother Miranda sends you, you say?” that sinister puppet, the Angie doll asked.

Lady Beneviento was sitting in front of me, with that puppet on her lap asking a thousand questions, making me believe that my presence was not welcome. It seemed the lady didn’t even know about my nature and I could not blame her.

In a last act of mercy, Miranda gave me some strange objects, ones that hid the reddish color of my eyes. I could ask her many things, but I didn’t want to.

Why not tell her daughter what I was?

Why her?

No, no question made sense. No question was going to fix my transformation. There was nothing that could cure me.

Vampire

“Yes, my lady,”  I said kindly, feeling strangely comfortable in that place, thinking that maybe being a maid wouldn’t be that bad, even if I was the maid of what all the villagers said was a monster.

“Why would Miranda send someone like you? We don't want maids,” the doll said, with a different tone, darker, the distorted voice of Lady Beneviento, you were sure.

“I don’t question Mother Miranda, my lady,” I said, lowering my head in respect.

 I was still afraid. I still trembled to have a woman like her in front of me. I couldn’t see her face, but I could feel her fear, her rejection, was it another ability?

“Mm,” a different voice that came out of that black veil murmured, while the doll lowered to the floor and the lady stood up, approaching me slowly.

I was nervous, could she feel how nervous I was?

“There is something weird about you...” she whispered with a hoarse, melodic voice, being close, too close to me, as if she was trying to observe me, as if the mere fact of meeting me was already warning her that I was a monster.

“Weird, weird!” the doll shrieked, her voice getting louder, approaching my almost frozen figure with clumsy steps.

“I, I guess we all have something strange inside us,” I said, downplaying her suspicions, making a vague and clumsy attempt at joking.

Something that was not a good idea.

“Are you laughing at me?” the lady asked, with an aggressive tone, standing up to reaffirm her position in front of me, a simple villager, a villager who wasn’t what it seemed.

“No, my lady, why would I do that?” I asked letting my new instincts to run away, not occupy my mind. Everything, the smells, the sounds, everything was overwhelming for my head.

“Tell me, (Y/N), why would Mother Miranda choose you to be my maid?” the lady asked, moving away, as if something had scared her.

 Maybe it was my nervous breathing or maybe she could see the darkness inside me.

“I don't know, my lady,” I said with a muffled voice, broken by my desire to attack, to run, to let out that stress by hunting again, far from that place.

“You’re lying,” she whispered, coming closer again, clouding my senses with her floral perfume, one that almost made me dizzy.

“Lying, lying!” the squeaky Angie repeated.

“Start talking, villager, tell me why you're here,” the lady in black demanded, moving away again, making her dress dance in an almost hypnotic way.

“I… Well, I…” I stammered, searching in my head for a way to keep the secret.

Yes, I was a monster now, but that didn't mean I wanted Miranda's golden claws to pierce my heart.

“I wanted to, I wanted to steal something valuable from her,” -I said, being completely sincere. After all, that's what I snuck into that cave for. I was never a friend of the law, even if it was the law of a sinister and supernatural cult. “Mother Miranda caught me and… Well, she condemned me to serve you, my lady.”

“Uh-huh,” the lady said, with disinterest, moving impatiently. “Serving me is a sentence for you, then.”

“Yes, I mean, no,” I said quickly, confused and nervous. “I'm just, I'm just trying to redeem myself from my sins.”

“I see…” she whispered, indicating to the puppet to stop harassing you with its sinister gaze. “Upstairs, you will stay there,” she said after a few seconds of tension.

“Thank you, my lady, you won’t regret it, my lady,” I said happy to have been able to comply with Miranda's demands.

Yes, I was happy to have pleased her, why? I didn’t want to think about it.

“Make me some tea and shut up, your voice is annoying me,” my new lady ordered, not wanting to waste any more time with me. Once again, I couldn’t blame her.

“Well…” I murmured to myself, watching the lady walk away, disappearing into the darkness of that mansion. “How nice…”

Sighing, calming my nerves, I climbed the indicated stairs, staying for a moment, paralyzed, looking at the portrait hanging on the wall.

It looked like the lady in black, the doll gave her away. She was a truly beautiful woman, with pale skin and bright, cold eyes. Questions came back to my head as I looked at the stoic pose of that woman.

Why are you covering yourself?

“What are you looking at?” a voice asked behind me, one that startled me. I turned around, putting myself in an involuntary attack stance.

Lady Beneviento, who was mysteriously watching me from the bottom of the stairs, stepped back upon hearing the small hiss that escaped my lips.

“My lady,” I said to reassure myself, hiding my hands, which already revealed horrible claws coming out of my nails. “I was, I was looking at the painting.”

“Why? Why?” Angie asked, in the arms of her owner.

“Because… I was curious,” I whispered, letting the truth come out on its own, allowing sincerity to appease those sudden urges to kill.

“Curiosity…” the lady began, with a mysterious tone, bringing one of her hands to the black cloth that covered her face, pulling it away, letting me see that familiar face, the face of the portrait, deformed by a horrible scar.

“…Killed the cat,” I finished, with a thread of voice, surprised to see the face that nobody knew. I could think she was a monster, but I didn't, I thought she was… Simply beautiful.

“Do you have something to say?” she asked with an annoyed voice, with her only eye shining with hatred, nervous, dangerous.

“No, my lady,” I denied with the most sincere voice possible, letting the first impression of her beauty speak for me.

“Tea, ora,” she murmured, relaxing her posture, without stopping looking at me, staring that beautiful gaze into mine.

“Yes, my lady,” I answered with a bow, relieved by the sound of the heels on the wood, by seeing that dark shadow disappear again.

I didn't start off particularly well in that house. Everything was dark, strange, disturbing...

I couldn't stop thinking about what was wrong with that woman, why she seemed so strong, and at the same time her gestures betrayed fragility. That curiosity that began to thrill me was unhealthy, dangerous, only increased at the same time as my hunger, my thirst.

During the day, I was just a maid: washing clothes, cooking, cleaning, nothing worth mentioning. Many of those days, I didn't even coincide with the lady in black.

Was she avoiding me? She possibly was.

She was a Lord, she wasn't just any woman. It wasn't just any house.

At night, my wild side appeared. I couldn't feed myself during the day, I couldn't. I had to take advantage of the fact that the sun didn't illuminate the bright eyes that hid behind a couple of strange objects.

When the darkness was not just a metaphor, and the forest was quiet, I took advantage of the opportunity to run, to hunt animals, to quench the horrible thirst I suffered during the day.

Maid by day, monster by night. If I had been luckier in life, I would surely have written something about it.

Time passed, my thirst was quenched. There was nothing strange in my life, there was nothing that made me think about Miranda's motives for sending me to that house. Donna was never there, Donna didn’t exist. She was a ghostly, elusive presence.

But even so, little by little she got used to my presence, to not using her hands to point out something she wanted, to using her voice without using irony, without showing me again and again that I was a simple nuisance.

“(Y/N),” a voice woke me from my involuntary dream, from my nightmares in which the color red occupied each of the places my mind visited.

“Ah!” I screamed, moving defensively, with the unpleasant sting of those lenses burning my eyes. It was her, the lady in black, who had unconsciously placed a hand on my shoulder, causing me to sit up abruptly.

She stepped back, frightened by my reaction. Discreetly, I looked for some sign of my nature that would have given me away. I didn't seem to have any claws and those annoying lenses were still burning my eyes. I had simply been scared.

“Oh, I... I... It's, it's true, the tea, I...” I said hurriedly, trying to forget those red nightmares, ones that reminded me of how thirsty I was.

“No, wait,” she whispered, lowering her gaze, playing with her nervous hands. “I wanted to talk to you.”

“Have I done something wrong?” I asked, controlling my breathing, trying not to look at the lady's neck, one that at certain hours of the afternoon became tempting.

“No, I... I wanted to ask you some questions, if it's okay with you,” she said with a soft, elegant voice, letting her hands go of in that nervous way, not daring to look me in the eyes.

“Questions? Yes, yes of course,” I said, still confused, with the red still tinting my field of vision, with my lady's floral perfume making a dent in my thoughts.

“Va bene,” she whispered, sitting on the other side of the sofa, not letting me see her bright eye, one in which sometimes, just sometimes, I lost myself. Nervous, she cleared her throat and sighed. “You weren't in your bed last night.”

“No,” I said, frowning. A dangerous statement, a phrase that I already knew, that I didn't want to contextualize, I didn't want to explain why.

“That's not a question, my lady,” I joked, hoping that this small, minuscule increase in confidence between the two of us would serve to relax the inevitable tension in the environment.

“I know,” she said, without laughing, without smiling. “I've been trying to talk to you for several nights and you're never here,” she explained in a serious tone, with her hands playing nervously in her lap again.

“Talk to me?” I asked strangely, placing myself on the sofa, avoiding a hungry hiss from slipping through my lips.

“I'm the one who asks the questions,” she said, with a stern tone, with a cold, almost angry expression.

“You're not asking them, my lady,” I murmured, with an amused smile, relaxing her breathing with my words.

Again, she didn't understand my desire to make her smile, to discover that smile that I had once imagined was as beautiful as I thought.

“Where do you go at night?” she asked, looking away.

I was always a funny girl, and, to be honest, I had to be thankful because my transformation didn't erase that aspect of my personality.

“Why do you want to talk to me?” I asked back, with an amused look, with a light in my smile that hid the fervent darkness that burned in my guts.

“Forget it,” the lady sighed, getting up with a furious gasp, muttering words that I was unable to understand.

I immediately regretted my attitude, getting up and grabbing her wrist. She froze.

“I'm, I'm sorry,” I said with a soft voice. “I didn't mean to make you nervous.”

Yes, I knew her attacks, her crises, the problems that darkened her mind. Little by little, I began, unintentionally, to find similarities between her and me, too many.

“You're very good at that,” she whispered, with a mocking, ironic smile, one that wasn't even half as beautiful as I imagined. That smile wasn't worth it to me, I wanted a real one.

“I guess I’m that way,” I said, shrugging my shoulders.

Lady Beneviento shook her head and turned away, gently removing her hand from mine, as if she didn't want to do so.

“I should have imagined that a thief like you would be that shameless,” she murmured, with a different tone, strangely amused.

“I've stopped stealing,” I sighed, remembering that my actions were the ones responsible for that thirst that was getting worse little by little.

“Really?” she asked distrustfully, studying my gaze, my gestures and the tremors with which my body asked for me to drink. “So tell me, where do you go at night?”

“To the forest,” I answered too quickly, slowly losing control of my actions, looking again at my lady's neck, at that beautiful neck… I shook my head to stop my impulses and smiled in a false, fake way.

“To the forest,” the lady repeated, with her eyebrow arched. “The forest is dangerous at night.”

“Not for me,” I said, clenching my hands tightly for letting out those mysterious statements that would surely give rise to more questions.

“I see,” she whispered, moving nervously, moving away from me, as if she were afraid of me, as if, deep down, she knew who, what I am.

“What did you want to tell me?” I asked, thus breaking another of the hundreds of tense moments like that.

“I… I wanted, I wanted to apologize,” she finally said, daring to look into my false eyes, ones that seemed innocent.

I didn't answer, I just kept my face of ironic surprise and nodded slowly, letting her continue, if she wanted to continue.

“I know that... I didn't treat you well at the beginning,” she said, with a voice so low that it was increasingly similar to a whisper. “Um, understand me, I've been... I've been alone for a long time and...”

“I understand, calm down, I know it's not easy to deal with a change in your life,” I said, putting on that tone of an understanding girl, one that unintentionally revealed my own worries.

The sun was setting and my throat hurt from thirst. She was too close to me.

“Well, thank you, I, wanted, wanted to thank you for being here with me,” she whispered again, getting a little closer, letting me see her delicious neck better.

I had to shake my head again.

“You, you're welcome, I'm… Well, to be with you is not bad at all, even if you come at night to say kind words to me,” I joked, taking a small step back. Finally, I could finally see that smile.

“During the day I'm usually busy,” she explained without me asking her, without that beautiful smile fading from her face.

“I’m busy at night,” I said, shrugging, holding my hand discreetly so it would stop shaking.

“I guess then we'll never meet,” she said amused, taking a step forward, the step I took back, the step I needed to get away from her. I was too thirsty.

“It’s a shame, I like meeting you, my lady,” I said softly, breathing deeply.

Her face relaxed, but she didn't lose her smile, she simply reached out her hand to my cheek, her eye focused on mine.

She was thoughtful.  I could hear her blood flowing through her veins, a comforting, but dangerous sound.

“Donna, stop with the my lady thing,” she whispered in a timid voice, before her hand brushed my skin, moving away with a shy smile and quickly, giving me one last mysterious look.

“Donna...” I sighed, still intoxicated by her floral perfume, by her hair, by her hands...

It was time to hunt.

That conversation was a turning point. Our routine remained the same but with small changes. Smiles were much more common, the time we spent together was longer, the conversations more interesting.

My mind was always weak to beauty and little by little I became obsessed with hers. Falling in love is an easy task, but being a monster in love is not that easy. Despite my approaches, something about me continued to scare her, as if that lack of confidence was still part of the environment.

Cooking, cleaning, spending time with Donna, hunting, eating, drinking, sleeping, starting over.

My new and cursed life wasn't bad at all, after all.

“Did you never learn?” the lady in black asked.

It was one quiet morning when I was keeping her company in the old workshop. As I said before, those encounters stopped being coincidences. It didn't matter if she was looking for me, or if I was the one who wanted to see her.

“Mm, not really,” I said amused, shrugging as I saw the lady working on her dolls and looking at me accusingly for not knowing how to sew.

“How strange, normally villagers like you are born almost knowing those things,” she said, concentrating on a fabric she was sewing slowly, with an almost hypnotic skill.

“Oh, of course, so I could sew the stinky clothes of a fat-ass husband, right? How predictable,”  I said jokingly, but with an internal resentment that reflected the slight annoyance those words caused.

“I didn't say that, I just said that I find it strange,” she said, with a more serious tone, stopping sewing to look at me intensely.

“Don't you find that a villager like me tries to steal your Goddess strange?” I asked amused, resting my elbow on the table, taking the fabric that the woman in black offered me, concentrated.

“Hold this, per favore,” she murmured, seeing that I had indeed listened to her.

I nodded indifferently, holding that fabric with my arms outstretched as she cut it with scissors.

“What happened to your dress?” Donna asked when she finished her work, roughly grabbing one of my sleeves, pulling me unconsciously.

“Oh, well I must have caught myself on a branch,” I lied, knowing it wasn’t the reason for that tear.

My runs, my jumps through the forest while hunting were starting to be evident in my clothes.

“You are very careless, (Y/N),” Donna said, with a slightly dark tone, sewing the fabric again.

“That's just me,” I said amused, pointing at myself. She looked at me and smiled, shaking her head, letting the air out of her lungs with a tired, melancholic sigh.

“Ah, cazzo,” the lady protested, letting the fabric go and bringing one of her fingers to her mouth.

“What…?” I asked, being unexpectedly attacked by a sweet aroma, by an attractive perfume that made my pupils dilate, my vision blurry and the red color being the only thing I could see.

A perfect red color, blood that spilled almost imperceptibly from her hand. I didn't know if I was dreaming, but that feeling was as if I could fly, that red color was the purest I had ever seen, the most appetizing.

“What's wrong, Donna?” I said nervously, trying to come back to myself, trying to ignore the pleasure of that ferrous and sweet smell, one that mixed with the floral perfume that always accompanied her.

“It’s, it's nothing, I stuck myself with the needle. How opportune, just when I was scolding you for being careless...”

I knew she was talking, but my ears couldn't hear her, they could only hear a tiny drop of blood falling on the old wooden table, one so small that only I could see it.

“I'm going to wash up, excuse me,” she said, getting up from the chair, holding her injured finger and going to the next room.

I could lie, I could say that I didn't do anything, that I waited patiently for her to come back, but I didn't.

Grunting, I approached that little drop of blood, soaking my finger with it. It was very small, but I could still feel its warmth, its smell, that voice calling me from that red place, urging me to commit a sin.

Not even the sweetest of rabbits could compare to that taste, not even the fiercest of wolves had that intensity. It was divine nectar, it was almost magical, a love potion, a soft taste of copper and flowers.

My finger swam in my mouth and its flavor impregnated my tongue. I had been drinking animal blood for a long time, I never hurt anyone, I never wanted to.

But that almost paradisiacal smell forced me to do it, that attraction to Lady Beneviento's blood that had crossed the limits of curiosity.

Sweet, bitter, intense… And very, very fleeting. That taste left me soon, that sensation of tasting the nectar of life left my body trembling. Her taste left me, her smell didn’t.

Then I knew what her blood smelled like, how appetizing it was, how pleasurable it would be when it went down my throat. If I could go back, I surely would not have licked her blood, I would not have caused more problems to my cursed body.

She came back, free of the red stain on her hand, of that smell that stopped being perceptible to become something subtle, something fantastical that surrounded her. I could hear her heart pumping that delicious liquid. I could see her veins swelling with that blood, with that ambrosia.

I had a horrible day. Unwillingly, I moved away from Donna to avoid feeling the urge to see her bleed again, to stop looking at any sharp object, to stop running my tongue over my fangs every time she was near.

Luckily, night came, and with it, my time to quench my thirst. Surely this way I would forget about her blood, about the taste that made me see stars, reach a pleasure that I thought was impossible.

I couldn't do it. I ran, jumped, almost flew to dig my claws into the animals, to sink my fangs into their skin. The sensation of warm blood in my mouth was enough to quench my thirst, but it was disgusting.

That blood was wild, impure, imperfect. It lacked the flavors, the nuances of Donna's little drop of blood. It had nothing to do with it. There was a too great gap between those two flavors.

Furious, I dedicated myself to looking for more creatures, one a little more similar to that divine flavor. I didn't find it, I never tasted that sweet flavor again, that pleasant flavor of the blood of the lady in black.

Time continued to pass, and I, naive, believed that what they said about time and sorrow was true. I thought that the memory of that flavor, of that purity, would disappear with hours, days, weeks. It wasn't like that.

Guided by my sick obsession, I began to pursue Donna, to look for her when she felt like cooking, when she worked with her dolls. They were two dangerous situations, which sooner or later would cause her delicious blood to leave her body again.

But Donna was not just any woman, she never was. She was caring, skilled, she calmed my anxiety with her smiles, with her soft accent, with the words that praised me almost without me realizing it. I could only think of red, of her red.

I couldn't even hear the voices of my heart, of that human side that remained intact, of those screams that repeated to me over and over again, that I shouldn't hurt Donna, that I loved her.

Yes, I may have loved her, but love was something that my condition as a cursed girl left in the background. I loved her, I needed her, but first, first I wanted one thing, only one thing: her warm blood in my mouth.

Desperate, anxious and nervous, I lost control of my nightly hunts, I tore apart innocent creatures, I drank the blood of ever larger beasts so as not to have that horrible need to feed on the woman I loved. It didn't work, nothing worked, only her, only her perfume, her neck, her eye, her smile, only she could calm my desires, only her blood could calm my thirst.

I returned home empty-handed, I was not able to kill, to drink. My body rejected that impure blood, it was no longer good for me, my mind rejected it, repudiated it. I didn't want to drink that disgusting blood, and if I couldn't drink hers, I wouldn't drink any.

It was madness that darkened the sanity of my mind, my logical thinking, my animal instinct for survival.

Even her face, her stoic gaze hanging in that portrait called me, even my eyes searched for her neck in that old painting. I ran up the stairs, locked myself in my room, took off my lenses, and looked myself in the mirror.

My bright red eyes reflected my thirst, my breathing and my gaze reflected the monstrosity that slowly took over me. But something strange caught my attention behind my monstrous body, something that was on my bed.

A dress, a seemingly new one, brought me out of my bloody visions. I frowned and brought my trembling hands closer to the small paper note that was on top of that new garment.

I hope you won't be careless with this one, (Y/N)

Thanks for making my loneliness disappear.

Love, Donna.

“Oh, okay,” I groaned, reading the note over and over again, bringing it closer to my face to sense the floral perfume that invaded my room. She had been there, she had made me that dress, she had contaminated my room with her tempting essence.

A nervous smile formed on my face, my heart was beating loudly to be heard. I should have fallen madly in love, but I didn't. There was only one thing in my head, a horrible tremor in my hands almost made me tear that note.

I felt stupid. If I had drunk that night, I would never have left the room.

My gaze stopped smiling, my body stood up on its own, slowly picking up that new dress.

“At least I'll do it in your honor...” I whispered, not really knowing what I wanted to say, the wild part of me was the one talking, the one moving my hands as I took off my torn dress and put hers on. It smelled like flowers, it smelled like her.

I looked at myself in the mirror again. I couldn't see a girl, I couldn't see myself, I only saw my red eyes, I only saw a beautiful dress put on a monster.

I closed my eyes, hoping to wake up from that nightmare, from what my body was asking me to do and had begun to.

Like a zombie, like a ghost that always follows the same path, I went down the stairs. The gaze that used to smile darkened, my throat, sore from thirst, forced me to hiss unpleasantly. Darkness enveloped the old mansion, but I didn't need light, I needed blood, her blood.

The basement was even darker, but it was no problem for my monstrous body, for my anxiety, my uncontrollable thirst. I could follow her trail. I let myself be carried away by the scent of the flowers, which was more and more intense.

I arrived at my shameful destination, at that wooden door that separated my integrity from my monstrosity. Donna was there, my precious desire rested peacefully behind that door.

A sinister creaking accompanied my body walking inside that windowless place. I could see her, she couldn't.

She was... She was like a painting, like a muse, like an angel. A woman like her, dangerous, sick, beautiful, was even more so when sleep invaded her body, when her expression was completely relaxed.

I took a step towards the bed, then another, and then another.

The old wood was that telltale element that stirred the brunette, blinking confusedly, looking everywhere, remaining paralyzed when she met me.

“(Y/N)?” she asked sleepily, rubbing her eye. Maybe she thought she was dreaming, maybe she thought it was a nightmare. I wish it had been just that, a nightmare. “Your, your eyes…”

“Donna,” I said, with a deep voice, bringing my hands to my face, rubbing my red eyes that had not gone unnoticed by her. “Look, I put on your dress.”

Quickly, with a frightened movement, Donna reached out to the switch of the small lamp on the bedside table. The lady sat up and blinked several times, disturbed by your pose, by your voice.

“Did you like it? I'm, I'm glad to know it,” she stammered with a false smile, unable to hide her fear, her gaze frightened by yours. “(Y/N), what are you...?”

I couldn't stand it any longer.

I jumped onto the bed. She screamed in shock, but my strength and speed were no match for hers.

I climbed up her body, immobilizing her arms by her wrists while my breathing mixed with hers. Her gaze caused a pang in my soul, that terror, that fear it caused her should have made me feel guilty. But it didn't, I should have drink in the forest.

“What are you?” she asked, stopping fighting my hold, looking at my eyes, the red color I needed, at my fangs involuntarily showing when I was so close to my prey.

“I don't know,” I answered, with a tear running down my cheeks, a tear that came from the good side of my soul, the side that stupid Mother Miranda hadn't been able to corrupt. But a tear wasn't the same as the desire to stop. “But I do know what I need…”

I didn't waste any time. Slowly, I grabbed her head, leaning it back, leaving her neck completely at my mercy. Donna was screaming, saying things I didn't understand but I wasn't able to hear her, I could only hear her blood waiting to be drunk by me.

It wasn't a scream, nor a shriek. When my fangs sank into her flesh her body shuddered, but she stopped, she didn't continue fighting. I moaned as my desire was satisfied, as I felt that warm, tasty, divine liquid in my mouth, in my throat.

One drop was enough to obsess me, obsess me until I got what I wanted. I was not sorry, its flavor was pure, intense, sweet… It was nothing I had known before, nothing I had ever tasted before.

I moaned with pleasure as I felt all the nuances of its flavor, as I felt how the corners of my mouth were stained red, her red.

It was sweet, addictive and strange. A drug, a desire, a treasure, it was everything and nothing at the same time, it was the meaning of existence itself, the name of pleasure, of flavor, of life.

As my thirst diminished, my desire increased. I wanted to have it all, to drink it all, to never stop feeling that comforting sensation, that wonderful flavor, those images that soon disturbed my head.

Aprite la porta, lasciateli entrare e fateli felici con i vostri sorrisi…

The voice of a girl, a little girl singing interrupted the overwhelming pleasure I felt, forcing me to to taste that blood more slowly, hoping it would travel a little further, that its flavor would transport me to Heaven itself.

Miss Donna, if you don't eat, Angie will be very sad...

A man's voice came to my mind, it couldn't be her. It couldn't be blood. A vampire feeds on blood, not memories, my desperation, my desire to get that unique flavor was surpassing my own abilities. It seemed as if, as if I were sucking her soul.

I couldn't stop, I didn't want to stop. Without realizing it, I was comfortably lying on top of the lady, her arms hugging me, her hand caressing my head made I feel much more comfortable while I emptied her body, while I let her blood bathe my senses.

You like the maid, you like the maid…

A squeaky, mocking voice interrupted that peace, that relaxing and erotic moment, that continuous flow of her blood traveling through my throat.

Angie, shut up, she can hear you…

I sighed, taking a breath to continue my feat. Something inside me stirred, something was calling me, claiming me, interrupting me while I felt the greatest pleasure of my life. A warning I ignored at first, with an annoyed moan, snuggling against her body, letting her hands caress me, her soft touch accompany  my action, my sin.

A cold breeze woke me from my reverie. It was no wind, there was no such breeze, there was nothing, nothing. The grip of her hands on my body faded, the hand in my hair stopped caressing it and collapsed on the mattress.

Then, I woke up. I pulled away from her wounded neck abruptly. Her blood didn't taste so good anymore. It seemed like that the purity, that essence was fading at the same time as her embrace.

I blinked several times to look at something other than her blood, I looked at her. Donna Beneviento, Lord, servant and adopted daughter of Mother Miranda was pale, breathing with difficulty, her eye dancing erratically, her body almost unable to move.

Finally, I realized. I was enjoying that taste so much that I forgot about my heart, that I forgot about the danger of drinking without limits, I forgot that I had put her in danger.

But her gaze, although dizzy and sore, moved to mine, her hand clumsily raised passing over my face, over my face stained with her nectar.

“So... That was it...” she murmured with a weak voice, unable to sound clearly. Her smile was terrifying, it was sweet, it was calm. There was no longer fear in her gaze, only serenity, pride and... Love.

“I, I don't...” I said nervously, shaking my head, studying her condition, calculating how long I had been enjoying my desires. It was too long.

“Shh, hey, no, it's okay,” Donna said with that agonized voice, without stopping looking at me, making an effort to continue caressing me. “If this makes you happy...”

“Donna, why? Gods, I've gone too far, why didn't you stop me?” I asked nervously, putting a hand on her wound, letting the temptation fade, her life suddenly put before my thirst.

“Sono... Sono innamorata di te...” she whispered, with that same agonized tone, with her hand wandering aimlessly over my face, confessing something I didn't know I didn't understand until I saw her smile widen, her breathing weakly agitated.

“But, but Donna... I…” I said nervously, pressing hard on her neck, trying to keep that ambrosia in her body, where it always had to be.

“I, I don't care… Nothing matters to me but seeing you happy… If… If this makes you love me, I will… I will do it without hesitation.”

“No, no, no wait, wait a moment, no, don't fall asleep, wait,” I said nervously, seeing how her gaze was lost again, how after that confession her body didn't seem to want to keep fighting.

“I, I love you…” Donna whispered, grunting from the effort she made to get closer to me, to lean her head very close to mine, gently placing his lips on mine, kissing me softly, unexpectedly, as a last act of love before succumbing to her lack of blood, one that I caused.

“Shit, no, no please… Don't do this to me… Gods, forgive me Donna, please… No…” I said desperately, running my hands through my hair when the lady lost consciousness, letting herself fall on top of me.

I shook her shoulders, studied her soft breathing, listened to her heart through her chest, I wanted her to live, I wanted me to pay with my life for hers.

She didn't move, she didn't answer, she had fainted, but, luckily, that was all.

I hated myself, I insulted myself. I even scratched my face in rage. I wanted her, I loved her and the creature that lived inside of me was going to kill her. I cursed Mother Miranda, I cursed the village, I cursed Donna for being too beautiful, her blood for being too tempting.

I stayed with her in my arms, swinging on myself, looking for that floral scent that was about to disappear, because of me.

“Please… Wake up,” I whispered from time to time, cradling the brunette in my arms, wishing the coldness of her skin would disappear, healing her wound, swearing to myself that I would never, ever do it again. “Please… I love you too…”

I had no choice but to wait. I couldn't say how long, it seemed like an eternity to me, one more to add to the list of sentences in my life.

Finally her body moved and stopped turning pale like a soul in torment. After a time that I couldn't determine, Donna had come back to life, the life that I almost took.

“Oh, Donna, Donna,” I said nervously, with a big smile. “Okay, okay, no, don't move... Wait, wait, you, you must be hungry...”

I didn't wait for her answer, I quickly captured her deadly lips in a quick kiss, one that no longer wanted to be red, and I ran to the kitchen.

“Here, eat this, it's, it's a steak,” I said, entering the room again. “It, it will be good for you.”

The lady looked at me confused, in pain from the wound on her neck. She was already fully awake, but her gaze was confused, disoriented.

“(Y/N)…” she murmured with a hoarse voice, lacking strength while I sat next to her, offering her a glass of water and the plate of food.

“Shh, eat and shut up, I, I put some garlic on it, just… Just the way you like it,” I said, rubbing my hands, seeing how hers were shaking. She was so weak that she couldn't even eat. “Wait, let me, let me help you.”

I fed her in silence. My body moved nervously, my conscience traveled between joy and guilt and her eye, her eye was fixed on mine.

“Those are your real eyes, aren't they?” she asked with a soft voice, causing the fork to tremble in my hand.

“Yes,” I whispered, scared by the cold tone of her voice. “Do you want some water?” I asked, bringing the glass closer to her.

Donna nodded, without taking her gaze off mine.

“They're beautiful,” she said, now with a tired smile. The glass, again, trembled in my hand.

“That's not true, I'm a monster,” I admitted, saying out loud the truth that I was not able to verbalize.  “I Almost, almost...”

“You didn't,” she interrupted, with her skin color more normalized, with a little more light in her eye.

“You kissed me, Donna, you told me you loved me,” I said, changing the conversation, focusing on what really mattered.

“I didn't want to leave without you knowing,” the lady said, sighing, looking at me, looking for that answer that came again in the form of a kiss, a loving sigh, regret, letting a monster like me express emotions that were not suitable for it.

“I love your blood, Donna,” I said confused, wanting to confess, to express my guilt and at the same time the desire to live love with her. “But the love I feel for you is the only thing that could quench my thirst.”

[cameronspecial]

can you write something with drew x singer reader?

My Muse

Pairing: Drew Starkey x Reader

Warnings: N/A

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.5K

A/N: The song Y/N sings is an altered version of "Pointless" by Lewis Capaldi

Masterlist

The studio is quiet as she taps the pencil on her lips. Y/N has been trying to figure out the lyrics for her next song for the past three hours, yet nothing comes to mind. Her back is pressed on the seat cushion and her legs are thrown on the armrest. “Ughh,” she groans, throwing her head back to look at the ceiling. The silence makes her second guess asking everyone in the room to leave. Maybe the noise would’ve gotten the flow going. 

The door to the studio opens and her head whips to see who it is. “Hey, Miranda told me you were experiencing some musician’s block. So I came with some pastries and smoothies. Get some brain fuel into that creative noggin of yours,” the intruder informs. She laughs at his words, “You are so weird, Baby.” He walks closer to her and she sits up. He places the food on the table, leaning down to kiss her. His face hovers over hers, “And yet, you still love me. Face it, Darling. You are head over heels for Mr. Drew Starkey.” She shakes her head and pulls him to sit on the couch with her. Her head falls on his chest as she snuggles into his side. He leans forward to grab some food and he hands it over to her. She takes a bite from the pain au chocolat, chasing it down with the strawberry and banana smoothie. They eat in comfortable silence until everything is gone. He dusts the crumbs off his hands and stands to stretch his legs. This leads him to wander around the room. He spots the piano and approaches it.

“What are you doing?” Y/N questions, joining him on the piano bench. Drew lifts the lid and places his hand on the ivory keys. Her head rests on his shoulder and she watches as he begins dancing his digits across them. Suddenly, the melody he plays randomly sparks something within her. She scrambles off the bench and runs to the notebook in her hand. Drew pauses to look at her, “What’s wrong?” She returns to sit beside him. “Keep going.” He follows her order and out of the corner of his eye, he can see she is writing down the notes he is playing.

Then, she moves on to writing down words. He keeps playing while she frantically notes down everything going through her mind until she tells him to stop. “Okay, close your eyes. I’m going to play you what I have so far,” she orders. She places her notebook on the ledge and Drew’s eyes flutter shut. 

Her fingers touch the keys, hitting one note after the other. Her eyes close as she begins to sing. “I bring him coffee in the morning. He brings me inner peace. I take him out to fancy restaurants. He takes the sadness out of me. I make him cards on his birthday. He makes me a better man. I take him water when he’s thirsty. He takes me as I am…” They both get lost in the music. As she plays off the final melody, her eyes open and she turns to him. “It’s a little rough, but what do you think?” He looks at her with a grin, cupping her face. Their lips meet. “That was amazing, Darling. It looks like you got over your musician’s block.” Her expression matches his and she presses her forehead against his. “Well, I got my muse to thank for that.” 

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming @magicalyoura @rubixgsworld

[blood-red-ocean]

can I request Mother Miranda next? i have this silly idea where MM's crow(s) has a habit of stashing all kind of shiny things near reader's house. Maybe she has a small porch that's not been used cause reader doesn't have time lounging around, and the sneaky crow is, like, yeah, this is perfect, and so reader goes about her life non the wiser to crow's shenanigans behind her back until one day she hears some sound outside and goes to investigate which ends with her stumbling upon MM rummaging through pile of... something. Awkward silence.

I don't know why I saw reader's house and immediately went 'ah yes, they live with Miranda' but ANYWAY enjoy <3

Small Thief (RL!Miranda x Reader)

Word count: 1.9k Warnings: None Summary: Cornelius is a sneaky lil gremlin.

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

“Babe? Have you seen my keys?”

Overturned couch cushions and the contents of upturned cabinet drawers laid in the wake of your frantic rummaging. The very thought of having lost a set of keys to the headmistress’s house scared you enough, but it would be even worse if you had not simply misplaced them and had dropped them somewhere on the Campus. Especially with Mia’s habit of being an absolute gremlin and showing up unexpectedly in places she wasn’t supposed to be.

“Hmm?” Miranda strode into the room, hand fiddling with the button on the other wrist of her shirt.

“My keys, babe, my keys. I need them.”

You knew what was coming immediately. You knew it so well that you could almost quote her word for word. “Now, what did I tell you about carelessly tossing your keys down, little crow?” She and you both knew that if she had spoken those words to anybody else, it would have seen as harsh chastising. But you knew her better than that, and you could easily pick up on the way her mouth quirked up at the corners. The Miranda version of a playful grin.

“Forget about your keys, darling mine,” She said, striding over to you to kiss your cheek. “I will be awake when you return, I’ll let you in.”

“Andy, you know I’ve got class till late tonight.” Miranda smiled a little more visibly at the nickname you had picked for her – Devil Wears Prada had quickly become her favourite movie to watch with you, and she didn’t hide her blush fast enough when you called her it playfully for the first time while playfully testing out different variations of her name. Mir, Mira, Andy… “Professor Dimitrescu is making us recreate a classical piece in our own style.”

“That’s… Out of character.” Miranda frowned a little. “Very well then. I’ll still let you in.”

“But—”

“I’ll be awake.” Miranda gave you a pointed look, and it hit you then. Of course she would be awake – without you around to help with the growing pile of student council paperwork, full of requests and grievances that were above even Bela’s station, she would no doubt spend considerable time poring over them, with Cornelius on her shoulder. She often turned to work when you weren’t around.

“Okay, fine,” You said. You reached up and caressed her cheek, a playful smirk growing on your face. “Just don’t drool on the papers when you fall asleep this time, okay?” This earned you a tut from Miranda.

Hours later, and back aching from spending hours at an easel, you trudged into Miranda’s – you and Miranda’s – house, dropping your bag at your feet. You leaned back against the door and groaned, rolling your shoulders slowly to relieve some of the tension. The smell of pizza wafted down the hallway and into your nostrils, stomach growling angrily. “Oh, fuck yes,” you breathed, following the scent like a cartoon character. There, on the kitchen counter, laid an open box of your favourite pizza, and a note beside it which stated, in Miranda’s elegant cursive, “I am in my office. Come find me when you have eaten, little crow.”

Pizza slice in hand, you navigated the house, making your way to her study. The door was propped slightly open, and a gentle push on it made it swing forward, revealing Miranda bent over her home desk as she pored over some paperwork.

“Pizza?” You asked, holding a piece out.

Miranda crinkled her nose a little and shook her head. “Not tonight, Feather. I don’t think I have the stomach for it right now.” She tapped her fingers on the top of the desk as she sat back, peering at you with concern. “Are you alright? You seem exhausted.”

“Because I am,” You mumbled around a mouthful of cheese, sauce and dough. “Dimitrescu made me restart my piece three times. Three times! All because I mixed the pigment slightly wrong.” Miranda kept tapping her fingers one by one, the familiar sound almost mesmerizing you – almost.

Click, click, thud, click. Click, click, thud, click.

One of her golden finger guards was missing, the soft thud of her bare finger hitting the wooden surface jarring against the clicking you were used to. “Hey,” You spoke up, frowning. “Where’s your guard?”

Miranda shifted uncomfortably, hesitating. “I have no idea,” She eventually admitted. “I removed all of them earlier to take a bath, and when I turned back, one was missing.”

“Ah, so the great Miranda doesn’t have eyes in the back of her head after all.” Miranda shot you a playful glare, affection vaguely hidden beneath. “I’m sure it’ll show up somewhere.”

“It is rather… Concerning, that things keep going missing around here. I’m not usually this… Disorganized.”

“You aren’t disorganized at all,” You reassured her, licking the grease from your fingers. “Maybe we have a ghost.”

Miranda rolled her eyes lightheartedly at that, returning to her work. You grabbed your books and papers, settling in on the couch opposite her desk to study. Yeah, you were exhausted, but you still had other classes to study for, and not even being romantically bound to the headmistress would give you endless exceptions when it came to your studies.

***

Weeks passed, hours and hours of late classes beginning to make you feel burned out. You spent the days counting down to when it was finally done and you could spend your time with Miranda again – and quicker than you thought, it was over. You left Professor Dimitrescu’s class with a heavy wooden frame in hand, a begrudging A+ grade, and a sense of smug accomplishment. You couldn’t wait to get home and tell Miranda all about how Alcina had squirmed, heaving sighs and muttering as she scribbled an A+ onto the piece of paper before her.

Upon arriving at home, however, Miranda was nowhere to be found. Propping the frame up against the wall, you dug your phone from your pocket and checked it – no texts, no missed calls. Venturing deeper into the house, you peered into Miranda’s study to see it empty and dark. Brow furrowed, you ventured even further into the house. It was unlike Miranda to not tell you where she was – or rather, command that you go and be at her side.

“Andy?” You called out. You peered into darkened rooms, intrigue growing as you saw parts of the house you hadn’t seen before. Between the rush of moving you in with her, and exam season, and Alcina’s late classes, you had barely had time to spend sitting quietly with your avian goddess, let alone explore the depths of the house.

Just as you were about to give up and try and call Miranda, a crashing sound came from the very back of the house. Pulse rushing in your ears, you immediately jumped to alertness, searching for something to wield as a makeshift weapon. Eventually settling on a discarded iron poker, you held it aloft as you took slow steps towards the crashing sounds. You eventually came upon a glass door, a faint glow emanating from behind it. With one hand on the doorknob, you took a deep breath and threw the door open, roaring.

“RAAAAAAARGH—Andy??”

Once the frantic flurrying of wings and dark feathers and Miranda’s cursing had died down, you could get a proper look at the small room you had entered. It was covered in screens rather than windows, and it took you a moment to realise it was a porch.

A porch filled with heaping miles of miscellanea, remarkably less organized than the rest of the house. Miranda stood in the midst of it all, her face flushed and scowling… At Cornelius. Eyebrows raised, you glanced between the two of them, taking a step back. Cornelius let out a rather loud, indignant caw, wings lifted at Miranda.

“You! She hissed, pointing her finger accusingly. “I knew it!”

A glint in the corner of your vision caught your eye, and at a single glance you heaved with relief.

“My keys,” You breathed. “Thank the gods—” You reached out to pick them up, and the fluttering of wings signaled Cornelius’s arrival. He stood with one foot on them, staring up at you with one burning yellow eye. It hit you then that this wasn’t some secret that Miranda kept, some uncharacteristic habit – no, Cornelius had been periodically stealing more and more items over the weeks, stashing him where he thought nobody would find them. You reached out again to try and take the keys, but he just cawed softly at you, clicking his beak.

“Hey, what—”

“You have to give him something else,” Miranda grumbled, sifting through the heaps of shiny objects. “I learned that the hard way.” She tapped her earlobe, and you noticed that one of her dangly gold earrings was missing, no doubt wherever Cornelius had stashed it again. On her finger was the golden finger guard, back where it belonged.

“Well, I don’t have anything shiny,” You spoke to the small thief. “But… You want my A+?” You held out the piece of paper with the grade and Alcina’s comments on it, and Cornelius studied it for a moment. With a quick chirp, he grabbed it from your hand and flew off to the back corner of the porch, no doubt to stash it somewhere safe. Miranda watched him with her mouth agape and threw her hands up in exasperation, calling after him, “Seriously? I feed you! I raised you from a baby! And they can give you paper?” Miranda took a breath as if to continue, then stopped, turning to you with raised eyebrows. “Did you say A+?”

Grinning, you nodded quickly. “Yep! Can we get pizza to celebrate?”

“Again, Feather? Aren’t you tired of it yet? I could order you something much nicer—”

“Nope, pizza,” You called out, moving back into the hallway of the house. Miranda followed you, pride in her eyes.

“Very well, then,” She sighed in mock exasperation. “But first, show me your work.”

There was a skip in your step as you led Miranda by the hand back to the entryway, where you had placed the painting. You held it up to her and watched as her eyes conveyed her emotions – surprise, awe, pride and then, as she gazed back up at you, love. “It’s beautiful,” She murmured. “We must display it at once.”

You followed her as she went to the kitchen, opening a cabinet and pulling out a small golden hook, and a nail. She hummed as she roamed the house, trying to figure out where the hang your artwork, and you blushed about it. Eventually, she settled for hanging it above her desk in her study, this simple gesture making your heart skip a beat, reminding you again her how she loved and prioritized you. She reached up, preparing to nail the hook into the wall, when a dark blur rushed by and left her hands empty. She growled a little under her breath and chased after it, leaving you in fits of giggling as she went.

“Cornelius! Get back here with that!”

To nobody’s surprise (but to Miranda’s chagrin), it only took the promise of some head scratches from you to get the hook back from the small thief. You could’ve sworn he gave an approving caw at the sight of your painting, as well.

[drghostwrite]

Holding onto you

Pairing: Callie Torres x reader

Summary: not sure lol… there aren’t enough Callie fics and throughout the show she had some pretty rough relationships, so here’s some fluff for the Dr. Torres. It’s kinda nothing then smut then fluff, this will be a multi part story!

Warning: Smut!

******************************************************** you pulled your car into the long drive way climbing out and fumbling to find your house keys.

you opened the door and looked around the house that was eerily quiet all the lights were still out. You went around flicking on the lights, “Callie?” You called but no answer.

“Callie, baby are you here?” No answer so you walked back out and saw her car sitting in your shared driveway.

“that’s weird, where is she?” You whispered to yourself and crept your way up the stairs. You peaked in your bedroom and then saw the note taped to the door, big trauma I was called in, welcome home my love.

You had been away for a conference but decided that you were ready to go back to work so you changed your clothes and made your way to Grey Sloan. The storms were raging as you drove to the hospital, rain beat down on your windshield, you parked and ran in through the front doors. The receptionist at the desk perked up, “how can I help you?”

“Hey…” before you could finish she recognized you and directed you to the OR where Callie was currently operating. You quickly thanked her and ran to change into a clean and dry pair of scrubs.

as the elevator doors slid open you stepped through straightening out your clothing with your hands, you made your way to the gallery only to be greeted by a curious group of interns watching your wife operate. You sat down next to the group, “so any updates?” you asked and started talking to the small group. Part way through the conversation one of the girls recognized you, “Oh my God… your Y/N Devine like doctor Y/N Devine!”

“well yes and no” you chuckled with a small smirk.

“What do you mean yes and no?… I’ve watched your techniques, I tried to get into Harvards program just to study under you.”

“way to suck up there Jo…” some of the other girls scoffed.

“well I mean yes as in I am her same person same skills but no as in I’m married now so I technically hyphenated my last name but I don’t ever go by that or Devine anymore… Also I would like to clarify that I no longer teach at Harvard I accepted an attending position here.”

“Are you the new head of trauma?” A red haired woman spun around.

“Yes ma’am.” You gave a small grimace and smile.

“No that’s a good thing, April Kepner I’m actually one of your residents.” She reached her hand out and you shook it.

“Good to know.” Just then Miranda Bailey stepped into the room and all the interns shot back forward.

“Ahh Miranda Bailey, she’s still got it.” You laughed.

“Y/N Devine-Torres, does your wife know you’re up here?”

“I don’t believe so, looks like she’s tapping out though so better go find her before someone else does…”

“go getcha girl, good to have you back.” She laughed as you left. All the interns shocked at the fact that your “wife” was none other than Dr. Calliope Torres.

you ran down to the locker room where you figured she would be changing. You knocked on the heavy wooden door, “knock knock anyone home?” You asked playfully slipping in. You found her pulling her shirt over her head next to her locker, which held a couple pictures of you and her, Sofia, the three of you along with her stethoscope and a few other necessities. She turned to you and made a sad face letting out a whine and letting her shoulders drop.

“I’m so so sorry that I couldn’t be home…”

“I know baby I know.” You said pulling her into an embrace placing kisses on her lips.

“rough night?” You whispered in between kisses.

“you wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“Mmm so don’t tell me just let me take you home, relieve some of that stress… that tension.” You said running expert hands over her strong arms and shoulders.

She bit her lip, her eyes darkening by watching yours, “whatever you say… Y/N Devine” she said all airy and mocking the girls earlier.

“that is Dr. Torres to you.” You said placing a bruising kiss on her lips.

the car ride home was quiet, you could feel the gentle anticipation coming in waves. You parked and walked up to your shared house gently leading her through the door. Setting all your bags down keeping an eye as she went into the kitchen, you walked up behind her hands massaging the muscles ghosting kisses on the back of her neck as she leaned her head back into you. You grabbed her hand and guided her upstairs to your bedroom, grabbing her shirt and pulling her close, starting to strip her clothes pulling her closer and closer until she was completely bare, letting your hands grasp at her curves and muscles quick breathes and smirks shared in between heated kisses, you ran skilled fingers all over her body before pushing her back her knees meeting the bed.

“looks like someone couldn’t wait for me to get home.” You said slyly.

“your my wife of course I can’t wait for you to get home… she said suggestively, as she scooted back the bed, you were on all fours over her heated kisses being trailed across her body. For awhile you made out letting your hands roam the heat intensifying as you kissed every part of her body.

“Y/N, mi amor.” She whined as you nipped at her neck then replacing the bite with a kiss.

“yes my love?” You asked moving down to her chest nipping the soft skin and then placing kisses, leaving a kiss right in between her breast while looking up to make eye contact.

“I need you…” you worked your way back up to her mouth, your hand sneakily going between her legs, fingers ghosting her inner thigh.

“mm, what do you need love?”

“Uh…” she inhaled sharply with a whine, “you I need you.” She exhaled into your kiss, your fingers sliding through as you felt how wet she was.

“what she wants she gets…” you left one more bruising kiss before sliding down in between her legs, you didn’t waste much time and it wasn’t long before her moans filled the room. Your hand pumping as your mouth worked wonders, before you knew it she had hit her high. As you placed kisses up and down her legs she sat up pulling you into her lap, you wrapped your bare legs around her and she could feel how wet you were, how much you ached.

“You know I always knew you had that last name for a reason… Dr.Devine.”

“mmhm, too bad I changed it.”

“must’ve been a special one.”

“yeah, more than special, she’s pretty amazing, the ONE, the only one.”

She chuckled, “well then… my turn, show you how amazing I am…” she said teasing you her hand sliding in to give you more teasing action. She turned and laid you on the bed your legs still wrapped around her waist, you unhooked them, still holding with your knees as she got up.

she walked over to the closet and was digging until she pulled out the strap, you but your lip as she walked back over to you, she sat next to you pulling you back into her lap, one hand was on her face as you kissed her while the other held onto the top of the headboard.

at first she moved slowly grinding into each other but before long she had you on your back legs over her shoulders as she railed you, loud moans filling the room, good thing your neighbors weren’t to close by.

“mi amor, absolutely beautiful, if only I could put a baby in you, see you glow as you carried our baby.” That sent you over the edge.

A little while later you found yourselves wrapped in each others arms legs tangled, the bed in disarray, you laid your head on her chest as she held you.

You were being quiet, Callie reached over brushing some curls out of your face, “Y/N what’s on your mind?”

“Hmm..” you pulled out of your daze.

“where did you go?”

“no where.”

“you’re being quiet… what’s wrong?”

“nothings wrong, just thinking.”

“About what baby?”

“Well,” you said sitting up next to her, she looked up at you until she saw how nervous you were, scooting up to prop on the headboard next to you.

“baby what’s wrong?” She said getting more concerned, she ran a gentle hand over your leg as you faced her.

“were you serious?”

“about?”

“the baby, me being pregnant?… with our baby.” You looked into her deep eyes.

“I…uh… to far? I’m sorry if…”

“no, no, I want a baby.”

“really?”

“I mean yea, I know with Sofia and all and Arizona and the whole situation that it’s not easy, but I want a baby I want little mini us’s running around.”

“Y/N is that what you were so nervous about?”

“yea i thought maybe you were just saying it but then i got thinking and…”

“baby,” she said cutting you off, “I would love to have a baby with you, I was serious. You would look gorgeous carrying our baby and I wouldn’t want to do it with anyone else, you’re more than just my wife, my best friend, love of my life… and besides Sofia would love having a sibling.” She said leaning up to kiss you.

“so you wanna have a baby?” You chuckled into her kiss.

“yes love I wanna have a baby.” She said placing rapid kisses on your lips and pulling you into an embrace as you both giggled.

[azurlily]

i saw that request for resident lover is open soo... may i ask for some cassandra smut? i NEED this woman her way with me

Yall are down bad, but I am too so no worries. I fully intend to write smut for Alcina and Miranda later. If anyone would like to request a special kind of smut with them, I'd be more than happy to write it. - L and W

I also have a dark one-shot(maybe more) for Cassandra's BAD end. I'm so down bad for scary Cass, and I think her turning to the dark side, but still loving you is perfect. - L

THIS HAS NOT BEEN SPELL CHECKED! Made by Lune and Wora.

"Cassie, I know you said you had some big birthday gift for me, but considering we're not in the theater and instead in your room, I'm slightly worried..."

You heard rustling around the room, and you hear a loud and pretentious scoff. You smirk, knowing you've offended your girlfriend in some way.

"I'll have you know that my entire life doesn't revolve around theater. It revolves around you; you're my world. As for your gift, if you don't like this, I don't know what you'll like!"

You can hear the cheery happiness in her tone; she's more excited about this than you were.

Previously, Cassandra had told you she was doing something a bit different for your birthday. All you had to do was stand in the bedroom and wait. With your eyes closed of course!

You make a snarky remark back and based upon the fact that Cassandra doesn't answer you assume she's ignoring you. You continue to hear rustling and even some groaning on her part. What could she possibly be doing?

"Alright, you're allowed to look!"

You smile and open your eyes only to see something that's absolutely engraved into your mind and while stay there until the say you die.

Cassandra is wearing a lacy red and black lingerie set. The base itself is black, while the design is a crimson red, adorning Cassie's skin elegantly. Cassandra can make just about anything look good, and she's proving that right now. Cassie has her arms behind her back and the most lovestruck and mischievous look on her face.

She looks like she's going to eat you, and you would let her. In the state you're in right now, you'd let that woman do anything to you. And you'd thank her for all of it.

You stare so hard that Cassandra begins to blush bashfully. You haven't spoken a word, and at first, Cassandra worried that you didn't like it. That was until she saw the awestruck look in your eyes. You're mentally preparing yourself.

"Are you just going to sit there, my star? If so, I just might have to take care of myself if you won't... And to think I was going to let you top tonight, what a shame."

That snapped you out of it quickly, you look up at her like a love sick puppy and shake your head.

"No, no, no, I-I want to take care of you Cassie. I want to-"

You're cut off with a finger to your lips. Cassandra pulls her finger away and leans down, she gently kisses you on the lips. It felt amazing, you two had kissed many times, but this? This was different in some way, some way you couldn't properly explain. Nor did you want to.

Explaining would mean you'd have to start thinking, and you didn't want to do that. You wanted to become a girl shaped pile of mush that let Cassandra do whatever she pleased to her.

The taste of Cassandra's lips were intoxicating; espresso and chocolate. They melded so well together, and being able to taste them on your girlfriends lips made them taste even better together.

Cassandra pulls from you with a devious look on her face.

"I guess you can try to top me next year, star. After seeing the look on your face-"

Cassandra's voice gets lower, her eyes darken and she shifts your chin so your looking her in the eyes.

"-I fully intend to take good care of you and your body. Now l hope those clothes aren't important because I will be ripping them off."

Cassandra quickly mumbles something about buying you more later before grabbing your shirt and making good on her words. She rips your shirt in two. She almost did the same to your shorts, but you talked her into letting you strip.

Of course, Cassandra being the impatient person she is, once you were down to just your bra, she grabbed you and pulled you onto the bed. The look in her eyes made you wonder if you were going to survive the night.

"Hands on the headboard, you know the deal."

Her voice change sent shivers down your spine. The usually velvety smooth voice has gotten dark, rough. Cassandra not only looked at you like she was going to eat you, she sounded like she was too.

Cassandra's hands begin to explore, one on your stomach kneading and pressing her hand into it. The other playing with your chest, she runs her fingers over your nipples softly before giving them a hard pinch.

You yelp and she laughs melodiously, it sounds so sweet. You'd revel in the sound of her voice more, but what her hands are doing is far more important.

The hand that was previously on your stomach has found it's way into your underwear. Cassandra has a finger pressed against your puffy clit, and the rest of her fingers are cupping your pussy.

Feeling her touch your bundle of nerves, you buck into her hand. That results in a harsh slap to your thigh. You whimper, but otherwise keep quiet.

You know what you want, she knows what you want. You hoped that it was only a matter if time before you got it, but that was for her to decide.

Cassandra pulls rips your panties off of you and spreads your legs. She wants you on full display, she wants to see the embarrassment on your face knowing she got herself all dolled up for you.

But you don't get to touch her, meanwhile she can rip your clothes off and treat you how you deserve to be treated. Cassandra looks at your face, you look absolutely debauched.

"Mercy is a wonderful thing, my star."

Cassandra dips her head down between your thighs, she uses two fingers to spread your folds apart and begins sucking on your clit.

You whine loudly and squirm, you begin moving too much for Cassandra's liking so she grabs you by your thighs and all but presses you into her.

Cassandra mounts both your legs onto her shoulders. The look in her eyes isn't one of love, it's pure lust.

Cassandra moves one of her hands down onto your cunt, she presses two fingers into you. You're already so fucking wet, these will surely fit. And she's right, they practically slide in, god you wanted this.

Cassandra enjoys it for a moment, getting onto a rythm of sucking on your clit and pumping two fingers inside you at the same time.

Meanwhile you whined, at first you were begging- for what you did not know, but now you're spouting unintelligible words that you aren't sure go together.

Cassandra's tounge always brings you to the edge the fastest, and paired with her fingers and the lingerie. You were bound to have quite the fun night. Because you've learned the hard way that Cassandra enjoys forcing one orgasm after the other.

She enjoys seeing the dumb and fuck out look on your face when shes done. The tear stained cheeks and the bite marks and throbbing hickeys all turn her on in a way she doesn't understand.

Cassandra can feel you tightening around her fingers. She stops sucking on your clit and begins sucking your tits. Meanwhile, the other hand holds onto your thigh. Cassandra lets go and presses against your stomach, gently applying pressure.

Cassandra breaks away from your tits, deciding to stake her claim elsewhere. She moves to your neck and begins sucking small hickeys before getting impatient and biting down.

"C-Cassie! A-ah, oh fuck-"

"You can pull your hands down, and I won't make you beg to cum. Although that is one of my favorite activities..."

You wrap your arms around her back and dig your nails into her skin. Your body is melting; it has to be. This is too much all at once, and yet you just want more and more.

"Ah-fuck... my star. That's it press against me as much you n-need."

Cassandra talks you through your orgasm and you whimper and whine the entire time. It's just so much, and as good as this feels you know this isn't even close to the end.

As you ride out the last of your orgasmic bliss, you feel Cassandra pull her hands away. When you open your eyes you see shes moved off the bed and is standing there with a dark red strap.

"You're choice star, either you sit on my face and I eat you until you see stars...or I rail you over the bed. Both will be happening, but you get to choose which one first!"

Cassandra had that charismatic look in her eyes, the one that held darkness and need. A need you could fill so very easily.

"So what will it be, little star?"

I regret being a co-writer to this monstrosity. - W

Anyway we hope yall like this to some extent. Also of course if you haven't played Resident Lover(a free sapphic game based off of Resident Evil: Village) you definitely should. The people that made such an amazing game are @resident-lover .

[xxchaosjojoxx]

Truth or dare

A/N: i had so much fun writing it and played the Song "Kissing u" by Miranda Cosgrove nonstop. Purple text passages are from the song. Hope you enjoy it <3 it is not proofread and pls remember english isnt my first language.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Now dance baby.” Shachi laughed out loud.

Ikkaku turned around. “I will get you for this, believe me.”

Ikkaku, Shachi, Penguin and I had our game night. After we played some cards, Shachi had the idea to play some truth or dare. Shachi dared Ikkaku to dance on top of a table.

“Why did I agree to play this stupid game?”

“Because you both refused to play strip poker with us.” Shachi winked at Ikkaku and me.

“Yeah but it was because we didn’t wanna see any of you guys naked.”

I said and Pen and Shachi pretended to be shocked. “Ouch, that hurts.” Said Penguin dramatically.

“Oh Come on y/n who can say no to this body?” Shachi answered and showed his biceps.

“Any human with a decent brain.” said Ikkau and we laughed. “At least we can play poker.” Pen pointed at me with a goofy grin.

Ikkaku jumped down from the table. “So now who’s turn is it? What about you Pen? Truth or dare?”

Penguin hummed while thinking about the options. “I go for a dare.”

Ikkau grinned.  “You have to make a sandwich and give it to our captain after this round.” While we snickered, Pen looked afraid. “Are you crazy? He will kill me.”

“He won’t kill you Pen. You just have to clean the deck for 3 or 4 weeks if you’re lucky.”

Pen let his head fall.  Shachi patted him on the back “Come on man. You can dare Ikkaku to help you.”

Penguin sighed. “Ok Shachi, truth or dare?”

“Wait, why is it my turn?” - “Because you had to back me up and you didn’t”

“I’ll go with truth then.” Ikkau and I mumbled a “Coward” and earned an angry gaze from Shachi.

“Do you have a crush on someone right now?” Penguin asked him. Shachi looked confused. “A Crush? Dude I have a crush on every beautiful woman out there. But sadly there aren’t any beautiful women for me right now.”

“Aren’t we lucky, Ikkaku?” You giggled and Pen and Ikkaku joined you by laughing a little louder.

“Haha funny, y/n. You are so bold today. So truth or dare?”

“Dare. I am bold except for you.”

You could hear an “ohhh” from Ikkaku and Penguin.

“If you are so bold, then I dare you to kiss one of us except for Ikkaku.” Shachi said while wiggling with his eyebrows.

“Well this isn’t a hard choice then.” I said and crawled towards Penguin.

Penguin gulped as I moved closer to him. He and I were really close. Since I joined the crew a few months ago, he and I were besties after only 2 minutes. So it is the safest choice, right?

“Ohh is this love?” asked Sachi. I rolled my eyes. “Don’t be stupid. He is the only decent guy available right now.”

“But not just a peck, y/n.” I turned my head towards Shachi and I gave him a puzzled look.

“The kiss should be on the lips and at least for 10 seconds.”

I shrugged my shoulders. “No problem.” I turned towards Penguin.

“Is this ok?” Pen gulped and fiddled with his hands. “Ehh sure… I guess.” he blushed a little. He looked really cute right now. I’ve never saw him so nervous.

I touched his shoulder with my hands and closed the gap between us.

His lips were soft and warm.

Sparks fly, it's like electricity

I felt his lips moving slightly and one of his hands at the back of my head.

Why do I feel so warm inside and why can’t I stop?

'Cause when I'm kissin' you, my senses come alive

Almost like the puzzle piece I've been trying to find

Shachi’s voiced echoed in my ear “Time’s up.”

I couldn’t and wouldn’t stop. Penguin was the one who pulled away but just enough so our lips wouldn’t connect anymore. I opened my eyes and tried to look him into his eyes. Our noses were still touching. His gaze was on me. Did I do something wrong? I couldn’t read his expressions and crawled back to my place.

“Now that was a kiss. Your turn y/n.”

I lift my fingers to touch my lips. I could still feel his lips on me.

Shachi snapped his fingers before my face. “Earth on y/n. Are you ok?”

I shrieked. “Y-Yes of course.” My eyes tried to find Penguin, but he looked away from me, fumbling with his hands, avoiding looking in my direction. “Pen has to do his dare before we continue.” I just said and Penguin stood up. “Right. Well guys, wish me luck, that captain won’t kill me.”

As soon as Pen left for the kitchen, I stood up as well and went with a “I need to catch some fresh air” outside.

I leaned towards the railing and sighed. My heart was beating so fast during the kiss, I thought it would explode.

A person was standing next to me without even realizing it.

“Everything ok?”

I stumbled back and nearly fell on the ground, but thankfully Ikkaku catched my arm fast enough.

“Woah. The kiss must be pretty good if you space out like this. A penny for your thoughts?”

I looked at Ikkaku and shrugged my shoulders again. “I have no idea. It felt like a spark. It was soft and warm. This kiss felt...just right. Like what is this? I can’t stop thinking about his lips. I wanna feel them on me again. I can’t stop it. I just…” I groaned.

“You are blushing right now.”

I looked at her “I am? B-But how? What is going on? Penguin and I are friends. Why am I reacting like this?”

“Maybe you like him”

“Of course I like him.

“No I mean. You like like him.”

I was confused. “But why now? I never felt like this. Maybe it’s just attraction?”

Ikkaku smiled at me. “Maybe. Maybe it is a hidden crush coming to the surface. I mean you both are really close.”

My face heated up. I tried to hide my red cheeks with my hands.

“HEY! Are you guys coming back for another round?” We heard Penguin behind us. As we turned around he was coming towards us. “You are alive.” Ikkaku said and Pen grinned. “Yeah he hasn't seen it yet.” Penguin looked at me with a hint of worry. “Is everything ok? Are you going to be sick?” His hand touched my forehead. “I guess you got a fever. Come on, let’s get you to the captain to check on you.” I slapped his hand away.

“I…I have to go.” I said and ran away.

Penguin was slightly confused. “What is going on with her? I was just worried?” he pouted and mumbled to himself.

Penguin turned towards Ikkaku. “Do you think she catched a cold?”

Ikkaku grinned. “I guess you could call it ‘catching a cold’.“ Pen tilted his hand, scratching his cheeks.

“Say Pen, I am curious how was the kiss with y/n?” Ikkaku asked with amusement.

The young man looked at her before grinning and blushing a little bit. “Curiosity kills the cat, y’know?”

“Oh come on, dude.” He laughed a soft laugh. “Let’s just say, I wouldn’t mind catching a cold as well.”

Before Ikkaku could answer, both of them saw a giant blue orb around them.

“Oh No.” Said Penguin and tried to get a few steps back. “Come with me, Penguin. NOW!” Both of them could hear the cold and calm voice of their captain Trafalgar Law. You could hear a “HELP” escape from Penguin as Captain Law shambles him inside the Polar Tang. Ikkaku closed her eyes and started a little prayer. “It was nice knowing you, my brother.” 

You hid under your blankets, still feeling the steady sound of your beating heart. The moment he touched your forehead it was too much for you. You had a few crushes in your past but it was nothing too serious. Of course you flirted with a few people whenever you docked on an island and visited a bar with Ikkaku or the chaos duo. Hell you even flirt with your crew, especially with Shachi and Penguin. Never ever did you feel like that. You couldn’t stop thinking about Penguin and his cute smiles. The way his lips taste like the chocolate you found earlier in the fridge. “I only find him attractive. That’s it. After I sleep a bit, everything will be back to normal.”

Sleep didn’t help you at all. After your duties you went on the deck and saw Penguin cleaning the whole Polar Tang. “Never mess with the captain.” you thought and started to observe the man with the penguin hat who was working the whole day.

Penguin stopped in his tracks just for him to open his zipper and took off his boiler suit, til the point it was hanging around his hips. You could see he was wearing a black tank top underneath and the sweat that was forming on his skin. He took his hat off for a second to wipe away the sweat on his forehead before putting his hat on again.

It was the first time you saw him without his hat. Yeah you only saw his back figure and it was for a second, but you saw it. You stared at every one of his movements. It was hypnotizing and you felt addicted.

He turned himself around a little bit to stretch his arms and you got a glimpse of his abs you didn’t even know he would have.  You gulped and couldn’t take your eyes off of him. Every single subtle glisten of sweat on his skin was way too interesting for you. His muscles, his cute little smile. He looked so radiant and by the time your mind had processed, he waved towards you.

And have you noticed I lose my focus

And the world around me disappears

“Do you enjoy the view?” He shouted towards me and grinned. Oh god, how long did I stare at him? How long did he stand there and noticed me?

Embarrassment immediately washed over you, as you tried to hide yourself.

Penguin walked towards you, a warm hand resting on your forehead. “Are you feeling better?” he asked with a hint of worry in his voice. You looked at him. Really looked at him.

I have never felt nothing like this

You're making me open up

No point even trying to fight this

It kinda feels like it's love

You just nodded. And a wide smile appeared on his face. “I’m glad that you are doing better. You got me worried. So what are you doing here? Except for staring?” He smirked at you and you felt the heat back on your cheeks. “I thought I could help you with it. Cleaning the Polar Tang.”

The sweet sound of his laughter made your heart jump a little.

“But you didn’t even dare me to do it. It should've been Ikkaku or Shachi.”

“I still want to help you.” You both stared at each other silently. The air was thick around you both. “You could dare me to help you, y’know?”

He looked up and down at you. You did the same and your eyes traveled down to his lips. How much you wanted to taste them again. You automatically licked over your own lips. But you still had an inner fight. Is it attraction? Could it be a crush? You didn’t know and wouldn’t play neither with his nor your feelings. You couldn’t look him in the eyes right now. It feels like just making eye contact would scream that you might like him as more than just friends.

“You could kiss me again if you like to.” You focused on him. Did you hear it correctly? You were looking for a sign of him, telling you it’s a joke, but he was looking at you with a little smirk. “If I can help you with your inner monologue, it is. It can just be a peck on the cheeks. Like this.” He calmly said and blew me a soft kiss on my right cheek.

“Do I distract you?” His husky voice sent me a shiver . “Yeah but you’re my favorite distraction.” I slapped my hand towards my mouth. The words slipped my mouth.

Penguin leaned his head on my shoulder as he was mumbling. “I’m trying to keep my cool here. Do you know how tempting you’re being right now?”

You could hear your heart loud and clear. Could Penguin hear it too? It was so loud. He was so close to you.

“Keep talking like that and I might end up falling in love with you by accident.” You wanted to sound calm but your voice cracked.

You could feel him grinning on your shoulder. Before he backed down and looked at you. “Maybe I want this ‘accident’ to happen. If you still feel unsure about everything, maybe you should go for ‘truth’ then.”

I gulped and nodded my head.

Penguin stood before me, humming. “Did you feel different when you kissed me? In a positive way?” I nodded and his face came closer towards mine. He leaned in and I felt his lips brush against my ear. With hot breath his lips parted and he whispered, “Do you want to kiss me again?” Your cheeks are just as flushed as his own. His hand trailing his fingers up your side. One Hand reaching up to cup your cheek, the other holding the back of your head. Like yesterday. Without waiting for your response, Penguin tugged you forwards by the back of your head and your lips crushed to his. This time it was not soft anymore but heated, intense but still sweet. 

When I'm kissin' you, it all starts making sense

And all the questions I've been asking in my head

Like are you the one, should I really trust

Crystal clear, it becomes when I'm kissin' you

As you both pulled apart your pupils blown wide, your cheeks bright red you looked at him.

“I guess I got my answers.” You smiled lightly and Penguin smirked as well.

He was holding your face in both hands. “If I knew you would feel like I do, I would have dared you a long time ago to kiss me myself.” And with that he kissed you again.

As you both pulled apart for the second time he was grinning. “Do you wanna see me naked now?”  He laughed and caught you off guard. “Of course I do.” -”Huh wait what?” He was confused by your sudden answer but was interrupted by you closing the gap between you two. 

[banananutmuffin28]

Of Love and Comfort

A/N: This short fic is a gift to @mikasa-imadebiscults! I hope you like it, my fren :D (There is so much fluff omg).

Summary: Donna comforts you when you feel insecure.

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x FEM! Reader

Warnings: Smut and insecurities (Donna quickly chases them away though).

The sweet aroma of the roses filled your senses, casting a gentle haze in your mind. The manor was strangely quiet in the still afternoon sun, for the little doll in charge of causing all the chaos had left the estate at sunrise to visit Castle Dimitrescu.

Of course, this had all been planned by Donna; with Angie out of the house and the smaller porcelain dolls told to roam around the newly installed treehouse in the garden, that left the Beneviento estate free from any prying eyes and ears.

Perfect for a little get-away for you and your lovely dollmaker.

The radio had long since been turned off, the curtains of the kitchen draped shut, and the beautifully scented rose candles set alight to allow small bursts of auburn light to decorate the dining room. A dumb smile was strewn across your face as you gazed tenderly at the Italian woman sitting in front of you. Her veil was off, allowing the tendrils of her Cadou scar to move around wildly without restriction. Her plum lips were curled in a sly smile and a red blush dusted her cheeks, stemming from her face and reaching to the tips of her ears. Donna’s raven hair cascaded down her shoulders, curling near her breasts and giving her jaw a softer feel. 

And…Oh Mother Miranda.

The way she looked at you sent a strange coil down your stomach, heating up your skin and making your soul burn with desire. In a way, her gaze reminded you of a jaguar, like she was sizing you up before she’d pounce, pinning you against the naked carpet with a hand between your legs and filthy thoughts in her mind. 

Fuck. 

Just the thought of that was already allowing arousal to pool between your legs.

A small clang to the wineglass rescued you from your thoughts, and your eyes drew back to the dollmaker in front of you. Donna looked like she was holding that glass cup for dear life, squeezing the neck so hard that you were surprised it didn’t shatter in her strong grip. The red liquid sloshed rhythmically, and her fingernails scratched against the delicate material.

“There’s my dolcezza,” Donna drawled, pressing the open rimmed cup to her lips. “I was worried that I was slowly losing her to my wine glass. Surely, tesoro, you do not think that my cup is more interesting than I am, right~?”

Before you could respond, Donna pushed her chair back, setting the cup of wine somewhere on the table before rising to her full height. The way she looked at you was dangerous. 

“Or, is something else plaguing my tesoro’s mind? Something a little more naughty?” She cooed, smirking when your cheeks darkened and a squeak escaped your lips. A pale, calloused hand slides up your thigh as she leans in to capture your mouth with hers, eager and desperate.

Then, almost as if it belonged to a whole different person, Donna’s tongue shyly prodded against the opening of your lips, a silent question in the air.

Is this okay?

Love blooming in your chest, you eagerly grant her tongue passage, whimpering as Donna deepened the kiss. Your hands grab at her desperately, feeling that need to hold her consume you whole. 

To your dismay, the dollmaker pulls away from you, an apologetic smile alight on her face as she strokes your arm lovingly. You whine at the loss of contact, pressing a finger over your lips as if the lone digit could somehow replicate the tingles the kiss sparked. A low laugh erupts from the other woman, and you turn to her, a question in your eyes. Donna gestures to the table separating you two, and the reason for her suddenly pulling away immediately became obvious. 

Then, in a couple of long, confident strides, she moves to you and grabs your arm. That dangerous look was back, and you squeezed your legs together.

“Come on, amore,” Donna finally purrs, placing your palm against her breast, “I think it’s best to continue this in the bedroom.”

She didn’t need to tell you twice. 

Immediately, you shot up from your chair and eagerly started dragging the Italian woman to your shared chambers. You didn’t care if you seemed desperate, for the fire burning between your legs was at the forefront of your mind, and with each passing second it grew more and more unbearable. By this point, some of your slick had already escaped from the thin fabric of your underwear and was clinging to your thighs, ever so persistent. 

You open the door with more force than was necessary.

The chamber was lightly furnished; it held a rocking chair, two wardrobes, and a shelf filled to the brim with various botanical books.

And, of course, the bed. 

The plush gray mattress housed an assortment of pillows, and while it was neatly made now, you were sure that your rendezvous with Donna was going to mess it up. Quickly, you sit on the bed and tug your lover’s arm insistently.

Donna let out another loving laugh, draping her strong arms around your shoulders as she cooed in your ear,

“Someone’s certainly eager.”

“It’s not my fault,” you shoot back, “You’re gorgeous. Anyone would kill to be in my position right now.”

Was it possible for a dollmaker to glow? Because, with the way Donna’s body immediately brightened and how her grin reached her eyes, she almost seemed to sparkle. Her Cadou scar danced, waving its tendrils at you joyfully. The sight filled you with an indescribable happiness, surging up from your chest and causing your heart to skip a beat. Reverently, you cup her face and connect your lips once more.

Donna’s purple suit was the first to go, revealing to you a pretty black bra which hugged her chest perfectly. Your eyes roam around the newly exposed skin, feeling your heart race once more as heat licked your cunt. Slowly, Donna unzipped her pants as well, and you couldn’t stop the whimper that escaped your lips as your eyes locked on her black panties. A heady scent filled the air, and any remnants of the cold’s chill was quickly chased out. When she removed her bra, too, you felt any chances of saving your underwear go down the drain.

Her creamy legs were slightly spread, as if they were beckoning you to come forward. She was half laying down, her arms pushed back to support her weight as she thrusted her hips forward. A small mole rested on the top of her inner thigh, and you had an incredible urge to gently roam your hands over her soft stomach. 

Fuck, she looked so perfect.

Suddenly, you felt a sliver of fear spark inside you. Lying in front of you was your Donna, beautiful in every way possible…but you…

In an instant, the room started to feel stuffy as a terrible doubt spread in your mind. The arms that you had used to pin Donna against the bed retreat, and you pull on your clothes fearfully.

What if Donna doesn’t like what she sees? Would her eyes fill up with disgust? Would she push you out of the room and leave without another word? 

A small part of you knew these thoughts were stupid–Donna loved you and she would be the last person to ever judge off your looks–but that didn’t stop that wild fear from spreading in your gut. 

“Amore mio, are you alright?”

Strong, loving arms cradle your body in an instant, briefly giving you reprise of your self doubts. Donna pressed her lips to your forehead and gently tangled her fingers in your hair.

“Cara mia, what’s wrong? Is this too much? If it is, we can stop and just cuddle.”

Immediately, you shake your head and press yourself ever closer to your lover. A hot red blush crept up on your cheeks, not out of arousal, but of embarrassment. 

“It’s nothing, my love. I just…” Your voice trails off, unable to put your thoughts into coherent sentences. Your self consciousness grew tenfold then, and before you knew it there were tears in your eyes, blurring your vision and making your voice go wobbly.

By the Black God, why am I so stupid? You had already ruined the sexy mood with your pathetic thoughts, and now you were forcing Donna to soothe you, too. 

You don’t deserve her, a horrid voice whispered, spitting out the words like they were venom. You’re fucking ugly, and as soon as she sees what you truly look like, she’d leave you in an instant. You’re nothing but a disgusting peasant.

“Cara mia!” 

Donna’s worried voice startles you out of your thoughts, and before you knew it the Italian woman was stroking your back lovingly, whispering soothing words into your ears and peppering your body with kisses. Even her growth was gently patting your face, and the unusual sight brought a shaky smile to your lips. You nuzzle yourself against the crook of Donna’s neck, nearly losing yourself to your lover’s familiar scent before she started to speak,

“Amore mio, look at me. That was not nothing.” A calloused hand tenderly dried away the traitorous tears that fell without your permission.

“Please tell me what’s wrong. We’re a team, remember? You’re always so good at driving away my rain clouds. Please let me do the same for you.” Donna whispered that last part, pulling you ever closer to her naked chest as she kissed your nose. 

Bit by bit, you feel that horrible, stuffy feeling start to recede. And, while the voice wasn’t fully silenced yet, it was growing quieter with every second that passed by. You press a hand to your heart and notice belatedly that it wasn’t beating as wildly anymore.   

Slowly, you take in a deep breath, and start to speak,

“Fuck, I just…” you trail off and gesture at your body, where your shirt was already beginning to wrinkle from your position on the bed. Donna presses another kiss to your cheek, urging you to continue.

“I’m scared, Donna. I’m scared of how you’ll react to seeing my body.” You let out a mirthless laugh.

“I’m…I’m not as beautiful as the other maidens. I have so many imperfections and I’m so nervous. I want to have sex with you, my love, but I can’t just get rid of this damn anxiety.”

Donna goes quiet, her whole body stilling as she takes your words in. Worry churns in your stomach, and you can feel the regret start to bloom inside you. Fuck, I shouldn’t have opened my damn mouth–

Then, Donna’s lips crash into yours.

You squeak, cheeks turning crimson as she pulls you impossibly close. The dollmaker lets out a soft moan as her tongue once again explores the inside of your mouth, and she strokes the back of your neck with a calloused hand.

You try not to focus on soft breasts pressing against your own, or the way Donna’s nipples were hardening. 

Eventually, the two of you come up for air, though Donna still doesn’t quite let go of your body. Her hands clasp in yours and her eye shone protectively. The look makes your lower region burn again.

“You are so beautiful, amore,” She practically growls out. “And, while you may not see it yet, that doesn’t make it any less true. Everytime I gaze at you, I feel so happy because you are my tesoro.”

Then, ever so gently, she presses your foreheads close.

“And I am yours.”

The two of you stay like that for a while, entangled in each other’s arms with the blanket draped above to keep you warm. But then, Donna leans in to kiss you, and you feel your body get aroused again. A whine leaves your lips faster than you could quell it, an act which causes a chuckle to escape the other woman. She presses her mouth against your collarbone and sucks on the skin there. You could already see a hickey forming as she releases, a self-satisfied smirk on her face. However, her face quickly softens and she cups your face, love in her gray eye.

“Cara mia, do you still want to continue?”

Shyly, you nod, even as insecurity wrangles your heart. You place your own hand over hers and kiss your dollmaker once again.

“Yes, my love,” You say at last.

Donna smiles, and her scar caresses you once again. 

“I’ll show you how much I truly adore you, Cara mia. Each and every part of you.”

Her words cause more wetness to seep from your cunt and you whimper again, squeezing your thighs desperately. Your arousal increases tenfold when Donna slowly untangles herself from your embrace, giving you a full view of her large pale breasts and panties. 

“See something you like, amore?” Donna teases, a twinkle in her eye.

Embarrassed, you start to stammer, trying desperately to find the words that could truly encapsulate Donna’s beauty.

Eventually, you give up and instead hide your face between your hands. Donna stepped closer to you, and started to gently unbutton your shirt.

“Is this alright, amore?” 

You swallow, trying to ignore your ugly thoughts. You would give it a try; you trusted Donna, after all.

“More than alright, my love.” 

Another pulse of arousal shot through you as your lover slowly removed your shirt. She did the same to your bra, easily unclasping it with her skilled digits. You closed your eyes when your bare torso was finally revealed to Donna, not wanting to see your ugly self.

Then, to your surprise, Donna growls out,

“Bellissima, amore mio. You are utterly perfect.”

“W-what?” You squeak out, feeling like an inferno is setting ablaze on your face. Donna slides a hand between your legs as she trails kisses down your stomach, kissing every blemish that she came across.

“You’re so beautiful, Cara mia.” She purrs, pulling away from your stomach to gaze at your face. A few moments later, she leans in, her mouth a centimeter away from your ear as she whispers, “I wonder how gorgeous you’ll look when you squirm under my touch.”

On any other day, you would be screaming internally, wondering where a recursive dollmaker learned to be so seductive. Instead though, your eyes brim with tears once again and you nuzzle against Donna’s neck. Below, you could feel her hands start to wander.

Giggling softly, Donna sucks on a nipple and slowly rubs your clothed pussy. She smirks at the way you bucked your hips at her desperately. Your whole body was on fire, as if you were made up of flames that only Donna’s touch could quell. Heart racing, you gaze up at the Italian woman in front of you, briefly awestruck. Her raven hair was slightly frayed now and her eyes glowed with want. She bit her bottom lip, and a red hue littered her face and chest. 

You swallow. Even after months of dating, you still could scarcely believe that you were lucky enough to date her. Donna kneads the other breast roughly as her knuckles move in a circular motion against your cloth covered clit. Though her touch was soft, she was gripping your body possessively, leaving marks in its wake. The pain sent an electric thrill across you, making you lean into your lover as you whimpered pleas for her to continue. 

A smirk was slowly curling around Donna’s lips as she teased your hole. You, on the other hand, was furiously rubbing your pussy against her skillful hand, desperate for more friction. 

“Please, my love, stop the teasing,” You beg, dragging your nails across Donna’s back. 

The smug look on your lover’s face grew even brighter. 

 “I didn’t expect you to cave in so quickly, amore. Does my touch really do that to you? Turn you into a gorgeous, needy puddle desperate all for me?” 

She pulled her hand away from your apex, causing a choked sob to escape from your lips. 

“Black God, tesoro. You’ve already made such a mess on my fingers. But..I can’t wait to see what my pollen does to you.”

You pull away at her words, mouth agape as you stilled to process her words. Your underwear was utterly drenched at this point, and the slick was starting to show through the fabric of your pants. Every bit of your body screamed to be reunited with her touch, ever so drawn to it like a phoenix to flame. You were truly under her mercy now, and it was only a matter of time before she’d pounce again.

Slowly, Donna withdrew a small vial from her hair (If you weren’t so damn distracted you would’ve questioned how it managed to stay there) and steadily uncorked the wooden lid. Its rich jasmine aroma seeped into the room and you could feel your cunt clench in anticipation. Donna licked her lips, a dangerous look taking over her as she crawled on top of you. She pressed a light kiss to your neck.

“Do you trust me, amore?”

Not trusting yourself to speak, you nod. A mix of fear and excitement broiled in your stomach as your gaze clung onto the vial in her hands. A part of you blanched at the idea of trying something new, but a larger, stronger part was eager to discover what it would do to you. You knew Donna would never hurt you. Your lover kissed you again.

“Cara mia, I’m going to tip this vial to your face. I want you to inhale it for me, alright?” 

She massaged your arms as she talked and trailed her fingers around your skin. You suck in a breath and murmur,

“Okay.”

Steadily, Donna began to tug your pants down before throwing it unceremoniously onto the wooden floor of the bedroom. Then, she presses the pollen in front of you, urging you to inhale. Like a good girl, you do as you’re told. Seconds later, you felt as if your whole body was on fire.

With a gasp, you pull away, nearly causing your lover to drop the vial onto the mattress. There was a fierce ache between your thighs, and it was unlike anything you had ever experienced. You whimper, squeezing your legs together in an attempt to give yourself some semblance of a release. The clothes clung to you incessantly, and your fingers fumbled to take them off. You felt so so hot, and your cunt ached for your lover’s touch.

Luckily for you, Donna was just as desperate as you were.

Her skilled hands maneuvered to your unbuttoned shirt, palming at your breasts. Donna’s fingers played with your hardened nipples before she released them and slid her hand downward. Her touch was cool, a much needed savior to your fiery hot skin. She pressed a kiss to your temple as her fingers ghosted over your cloth-covered clit. 

“Assolutamente perfetto,” The dollmaker rumbled, bringing your body closer to hers. “Don’t let that damned mind of yours tell you otherwise.”

Before you had a chance to open your mouth to protest, she ripped your underwear off and threw it somewhere across the room. Her tongue swirled around your neck, and her sweet cants made you whine with need. 

The first stroke to your pussy was slow and deliberate, as if your lover was merely testing the embers to the flame. 

“Do you feel that, my beautiful, gorgeous love?” she purred, sliding a finger to press against your aching clit. She flicked it once, chuckling at your desperation. 

“That’s how I feel every time I lay my eyes on you.”

Another flick. Your slick trailed down her hand, pooling somewhere on the bed as Donna slipped a single, wet digit inside your throbbing cunt. She looped a free arm around your neck, a myriad of coos falling from her lips.

“I’m absolutely crazy around you.”

You rocked your hips, eyes squeezed shut as you started to blabber incoherently. Your hands scramble to find purchase on Donna’s shoulders, trying to stabilize your trembling figure. 

Already, the pressure in your lower area was building. You throw your head back, a fierce blush taking over your cheeks. It must have been the pollen; You’ve never gotten so close to the edge so fast with your own fingers.

Noticing your reaction, Donna snarled, sinking her teeth into your soft neck as she quickened her pace. Her hair was a frazzled mess now; the tangled thing spilling over her shoulders and sticking out in various angles. 

Oh how you longed to pull her hair.

You never got the chance, though. Her thrusts were faster now, fingers curling inside your cunt and bringing forth a slew of emotions. Her thumb was still flicking your bud relentlessly, making it pulse with need. There was so much slick escaping you, but you barely felt any embarrassment. Your body was burning, begging for Donna’s touch, and you would do anything for her to let you cum. 

“Such a good girl you are,” Donna murmured, twisting a nipple. The Cadou scar writhed eagerly, no doubt influenced by the dollmaker’s excitement.

“I want to see how hard you’ll cum for me.”

Without giving you much time to react, she slips in a fourth finger and growls, shoving them deep inside you. The bed creaked noisily from her action, moving up and down in tandem with her thrusts. You moan, your mouth curled into a scream as she finally brings you over the edge. Donna rubbed your clit gently, helping you ride out your orgasm.

There is a soft kiss pressed to your nose before she wraps you up in her arms. Though her face was slick with sweat, her eyes shone, twinkling like the gems she’d give you on your dates. The way she looked at you was so lovingly fond, as if—in this very moment—you were the only worthwhile thing glimmering in her life. 

You nuzzle against her chest, feeling a pleased sigh escape you. Donna peppered your face with kisses, humming quietly. These were the moments you cherished the most in life; moments where it was only the two of you basking in each other’s prescience. Donna could take her mind off of her relentless demons, and you could forgo any insecurities that were plaguing you.

Already, your eyelids were beginning to droop and a yawn escaped your lips. A hand moved up to massage your scalp, and you leaned into her touch, closing your eyes as you let the careful arms of sleep carry you away.

As the world began to darken and the sounds outside your skull became muffled, you heard the gentle whispering of your love.

“Rest easy, amore mio. I will be here when you wake up.”

“Always?” Your voice felt small, as if fearing her answer. 

Donna wrapped her arms around your torso, pulling you ever closer to her.

“Forever.”

[merylstreepsworld]

Thanksgiving Preparations

Pairing: Miranda Priestly x Fem! Reader

Summary: You are Miranda's wife, and it's your first Thanksgiving as a married couple. As the two of you navigate, the chaos of holiday preparations with Miranda's twin daughters, laughter, love, and playful banter ensue. Showcasing the beauty of unexpected connections and the joy found in the simplest moments.

Word count: 1,496

Authors Note: Turns out... I'm a sucker for holiday romances. I started out writing Christmas oneshots and imagines... but as I went to post one, I quickly realized it's too early for that. So, to fill my nagging itch for posting a holiday story... I decidedly set my mind on writing for Thanksgiving! So enough of my blabbing, I hope you enjoy! Happy reading! ♡

You stand side by side with Miranda Priestly in the spacious kitchen of your shared townhouse, the warm aroma of Thanksgiving filling the air. The gentle hum of laughter echoes as you and Miranda prepare a feast for the special day. Miranda, elegant as always, expertly handles the turkey while you focus on the side dishes.

As the two of you work in tandem, Miranda glances at you with a soft smile. "You know, darling, I never thought I'd find such joy in preparing a meal. Especially with you."

The twins, Caroline and Cassidy, burst into the kitchen, their excitement palpable. "Mom! Mama! Can we help?" they chorus, eyes sparkling.

You look at Miranda, who nods with a bemused smile. "Of course, my darlings. Your mama and I could use some skilled assistants."

The mention of "mama" and "mom" is a sweet reminder of the unique family dynamic you've all created. The girls, and now Miranda, referring to you as "mama," have seamlessly woven you into their lives. It's a title that carries love and acceptance, surpassing any conventional labels.

Caroline, always the more adventurous of the two, eagerly grabs a mixing bowl. "I call dibs on making mashed potatoes!"

Cassidy, with a mischievous twinkle in her eye, reaches for the cranberries. "And I'll handle these. Watch out, world, Cassidy Priestly is a cranberry master!"

You share a knowing look with Miranda, appreciating the liveliness the twins bring to the kitchen. The banter flows seamlessly, filled with laughter and playful teasing. Miranda, usually composed, even allows herself to be the target of a well-placed joke.

"Mom, remember that time you tried to make stuffing and forgot the stuffing part?" Cassidy grins, stirring the cranberries.

Miranda raises an eyebrow, a rare amused expression on her face. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Caroline chimes in, "Oh, come on, Mom. The infamous 'bread casserole' incident? Classic."

You join the teasing, "Well, Miranda, I'm just glad you have me to save you from any future culinary mishaps."

Miranda smirks, a glint of mischief in her eyes. "Indeed, I am truly fortunate."

Seeing the twins eager to help, you pause the bustling kitchen activity. "Alright, my little chefs, let's make sure we don't ruin those lovely outfits of yours." With a gentle smile, you reach for two aprons, each adorned with playful patterns.

Caroline and Cassidy giggle as you slip the aprons over their heads. "Now, my culinary wonders, you're officially ready for action."

The girls exchange excited glances, apron strings trailing behind them like little tails. They return to their tasks with renewed enthusiasm, focused on creating their culinary masterpieces.

Turning your attention to Miranda, you approach her with an apron in hand. "Even the queen of fashion needs a touch of practicality in the kitchen," you jest, a playful glint in your eyes.

As you position the apron over Miranda's head, she turns to face you, an eyebrow raised in amusement. Before she can say anything, you lean in, capturing her lips in a soft and tender kiss. The warmth of the moment lingers as you break the kiss, both of you sharing a knowing smile.

Miranda smirks, "I wasn't aware apron application involved such a delightful distraction."

You playfully respond, "Consider it my secret technique. Now, let me just tie this securely." Your hands deftly work to fasten the apron strings, the closeness between you and Miranda adding an extra layer of intimacy to the festive atmosphere.

With the apron securely tied, you give Miranda a gentle pat on the back. "There you go, ready to conquer the culinary world."

Miranda smirks again, a rare twinkle of playfulness in her eyes. "With you by my side, I believe I can handle anything, even in the kitchen."

With the heavenly aroma of the Thanksgiving feast now wafting from the oven, the twins, Caroline and Cassidy, abandon their kitchen duties with a burst of giggles. Aprons discarded on the floor like little breadcrumbs, they scamper off to enjoy their playtime.

Seizing the opportunity for a moment of tranquility, you and Miranda find yourselves alone in the kitchen, still clad in aprons. The air is filled with a quiet anticipation as the oven does its work.

Miranda turns to you, a soft smile playing on her lips. "Alone at last."

You share a knowing glance, and with a gentle touch, Miranda pulls you closer. The warmth of the aprons contrasts with the cool grace of the kitchen surroundings as you share a tender kiss.

As you hold each other, Miranda murmurs, "I am thankful for moments like these, away from the chaos, just you and me."

You reciprocate, "I feel the same, Miranda. Grateful for the life we're building together, especially moments like this."

The quietude of the kitchen allows for whispered confessions, and you take turns expressing your gratitude. Miranda's eyes soften as she admits, "I never thought I'd have a family like this. Your love has brought something extraordinary into my life."

You respond with heartfelt sincerity, "And I'm thankful for the laughter, the warmth, and the love we share. It's more than I could have ever dreamed."

The sound of muffled laughter from the twins playing in the next room adds a joyful background melody to your intimate moment. Miranda's fingers trace circles on the fabric of your apron as she leans in to whisper, "They truly adore you, you know. It's evident in every 'mama' they say."

You smile, the warmth of her words settling in your heart. "And I adore them. I never knew family could feel like this."

Miranda tilts her head, her eyes reflecting a mixture of gratitude and affection. "Nor did I. You've brought a kind of love into our lives that I didn't think possible."

As the timer on the oven ticks away, the two of you linger in the kitchen, enjoying the rare solitude. The scent of the roasting turkey and the simmering side dishes becomes a backdrop to your whispered conversation.

"I'm thankful for you, Miranda, for the unexpected joy you've given me," you confess, your voice carrying the weight of sincere appreciation.

Miranda's gaze softens, and she responds, "And I, in turn, am thankful for your unwavering support, for the love that has made my world richer than I could have imagined."

The twins' laughter grows louder, a testament to the happiness that fills the home you've created together. Miranda places a gentle kiss on your forehead, a silent acknowledgment of the bond that transcends titles and roles.

As the oven continues to work its magic, you and Miranda stand in the kitchen, wrapped in each other's arms and aprons, grateful for the love that has blended your lives into a beautiful tapestry of shared moments and genuine affection.

As you make a move to join the twins, Miranda surprises you by smoothly backing you against the counter, a playful glint in her eyes. "Leaving so soon?" she quips, her tone filled with mock disappointment.

You chuckle, unable to resist her charm. "Well, someone has to supervise the post-cooking activities. Can't let the kitchen turn into a battlefield."

Miranda smirks, her fingers tracing light patterns on the countertop. "Supervision is overrated, darling. I much prefer a bit of chaos."

You play along, raising an eyebrow. "And here I thought you thrived on control. Are you admitting to a love for chaos?"

Her lips curve into a sly smile. "Only when it involves you, my dear."

You laugh, teasingly responding, "Smooth as always, Miranda. I should have known you'd have a plan to keep me right where you want me."

Miranda leans in, her breath warm against your ear. "Oh, you have no idea how much I enjoy having you right where I want you."

The banter between you takes on a loving and playful rhythm, each remark laced with affection. As Miranda continues to playfully corner you against the counter, you can't help but marvel at the unexpected and delightful turns your day has taken.

"So, do you have any more smooth moves up your sleeve, or is this the grand finale?" you quip, your tone filled with a playful challenge.

Miranda smirks, leaning back slightly. "Darling, with you, every moment is a grand finale."

Your laughter fills the kitchen, blending with the sounds of the twins' joyous play in the background. The playful banter between you and Miranda weaves a thread of intimacy that adds a layer of sweetness to the Thanksgiving celebration. As the banter continues, you realize that in this unscripted dance of words and affections, you've found a home within the heart of your uniquely loving family.

As the playful banter subsides, you find comfort in the warmth of each other's presence. The kitchen, once a hub of activity, now holds the quiet promise of shared moments and the enduring bond you've created. Hand in hand, you leave the playful banter behind, ready to join the twins and savor the Thanksgiving feast that awaits.

[blueshistorysims]

March 1934

Montgomery couldn’t remember the last time he felt this free, sighing lazily.

The woman’s voice, the one stroking his hair, laughed. “Don’t fall asleep on me now.”

“How can I when I am yer arms?”

She giggled.

“Besides,” he whispered, “this is a dream. Canna sleep in a dream.”

Edeline smiled. “If it is a dream, then it is a good one.”

“I wish I could stay here forever.”

She laughed again as he heard the cries of a baby.

He sat up, confused. “I hear a bairn.”

Edeline scoffed, and when he turned to face her, she was holding a baby girl with his red hair and blue eyes. “Well, I would hope so, considering Maggie is sitting right with us.”

“Maggie?”

“Our daughter, darling. You’re acting quite strange, you know.” She looked around, unfazed by his shocked expression. “Bernie! Come here!”

“Bernie? But-but-” He cut himself off the moment a boy of around fourteen ran toward the blanket, his face a mix of his and Edeline’s.

“Yes, Mum?”

“I think your father has some sort of temporary amnesia.”

Bernie turned to Montgomery. “Ya alright, Da?” He had a faint Scottish accent. 

The Scotsman stood up, looking back and forth. “This-this isn’t real. Yer not real. It’s only a dream.”

“Of course it’s not real, Montgomery,” a voice he recognized well replied, and he turned to see Samira with Miranda in her lap. “It’s only a dream.”

He panted heavily, trying to force himself awake.

He closed his eyes tightly until everything was black, but when he opened them, he found himself surrounded by darkness, and in front of him, his two dead wives, dressed like a cabaret act in a giant v-shaped glass in their favorite colors, red and green.

“Do you remember?” Samira asked. “The cabaret shows we used to go to in London? The girls dressed like this, didn’t they?”

Edeline smiled like a shark as the pair posed seductively. “We never went to shows like this when we were together. You only told me you had loved men when you proposed. Were you ashamed of your proclivities? That I, a sheltered English girl, could not understand the decadence of it all?”

He swallowed, equally disturbed and transfixed. “No, I-It’s not that. It weren’t like that. I… were ashamed of meself, wanted to lock that part of meself away from ya, from… everythin’.”

The women were suddenly embracing one another, still making intense eye contact. 

“I wonder if you would have left me if I had lived and you still had met Samira. You loved her passionately… until she died in your arms.”

Samira finally turned her head, gazing at Edeline with an emotion Montgomery didn’t recognize. “I always stared at her photographs. She was beautiful. Pale, blonde, thin… I’d wonder what I’d do if I ever met her.” She caressed the blonde woman’s face. “Do you think she would love me the way you did? Would she let me kiss her lips?” She whispered before kissing her gently.

Montgomery watched, entranced as his wives ravished one another with a creeping feeling of dread falling upon him as if he was privy to something he was not meant to see. 

Samira looked up from her neck, her dark brown eyes twinkling with malice. “How do you would tell her? Tell Edeline that you fell in love with her brother, and he doesn’t love you. That the only reason you have yet to take your life is because of some foolish wish that he will return those feelings, and you won’t be alone anymore—someone to hold you in your sleep and whisper soothing words when you have nightmares of your dead. All you have is your daughter. Our daughter.”

He opened his mouth and found he could not speak. He felt faint, his vision blurring, bleeding into color, and Montgomery found himself in his bedroom, held by Edeline as Samira watched with the same enigmatic expression from before.

“Hush now, Edeline whispered, “it shall be over soon. I have you in my arms.”

“But it’s not real.”

“It could be,” Samira mused. “Do you wish it?”

He did not answer, letting his two wives touch and kiss him as he closed his eyes. Perhaps he could enjoy it, enjoy them, even if he knew he was in some sort of dream or nightmare or somewhere in between. He felt their touch on his body and wondered how he’d managed five years of no romantic love. But then perhaps he hadn’t, thinking his quitting of everything that mattered to him, staying shut up in a house owned by a duke and duchess, who were supposed to be everything he opposed about the class system, but instead, he was hopelessly in love with one and cared too deeply for the other. 

The touch suddenly stopped, and he opened his eyes, his vision perfect for once, to see Edeline and Samira staring at him from the foot of his bed, looking exactly as they did when they perished. Blood covered Edeline’s chest and mouth, staining her olive green nightgown she loved so dearly as the blood from Samira’s navy skirt and legs dripped onto the floor. Overwhelming guilt racked his body as they stared with lifeless eyes, boring into his soul.

“It is funny your face was the last one we ever saw,” Edeline muttered.

“Do you want it to be real?” Samira asked again. 

“No-I dinna ken—aye,” he finally confessed.

He gasped awake, finding himself in his bedroom once more, the morning rays pouring in from the window. He was awake. The dream was over. But it was not a consolation, he quickly realized as tears welled up in his eyes, and he fell back into his bed, beginning to sob.

By the time Miranda, still in her nightgown, wandered into his room, looking for her father, Montgomery was completely unaware of anything else other than his hammering heart and aching cries. Miranda watched him, too shocked to do anything else.

[daydream-cement]

Couples Costume

Miranda Hilmarson x Reader

Miranda convinces you to do a couples costume for Halloween.

Author's Note: YAYYYY!! This is the first week of Spooky Season with @alexusonfire!!!! This weeks prompt was couples costumes and what could be cuter than matching with Miranda??? <33

The constable dropped onto the couch next to you, swiftly turning her body and reclining back so her head rested in your lap. She was finally able to relax for the evening now that she returned home from work and showered. 

“How was work, honey?” You ask, eyes not leaving as you scroll with one hand and use your other to play with her hair.

Miranda held up her phone displaying an email she received, showing a party invite, “A friend is hosting a Halloween party! We should wear a couples costume!” 

“A couples costume?”

There was a glint of mischief in Miranda’s eye, “Yeah! It could be fun!”

“Hmmm…” You smile down at the blonde, swiping some hair away from her face. You brush your knuckles along her cheek, “You know what, Andy? If you can find a cute costume for us to wear, then we can wear a couples costume, okay?”

“Deal!”

—

“Try it on, then come out and show me!” Miranda teetered back and forth on the bed where she sat criss-crossed. There was a huge smile plastered across her face that caused your lips to twitch as you attempted to remain serious.

“Miranda, please…” You force a frown, staring down at the red fabric in your hands. The constable had been planning these Halloween costumes for months and now that it was the night of the costume party, there was no backing out.

“Please, baby! I know you will look so cute.” 

You didn’t want to disappoint the constable, but you didn’t know anything about this tv show. Miranda was the Star Trek fan, not you. What were you supposed to say at the party when asked about this costume? 

“Can’t I just be myself for Halloween? Or I could just wear my costume from last year?”

“No! Come on! Just try on the uniform.” Miranda’s eyes went big and she intertwined her fingers, holding them up in a begging motion. God, she was so cute. Miranda’s pleading eyes and pout were always able to break you down. 

“Okay…”

“Yay!!” Miranda jumped up on her knees, throwing her arms around your shoulders before yanking you towards her. You were feeling immediately better about your decision to agree to wear the costume as Miranda began peppering your face with kisses. 

—

“Hello, Captain.” Robin teased as soon as she saw you enter the room with Miranda. She smirked as she observed your bright red captain’s uniform. 

Miranda draped an arm over your shoulders, a great big smile graced her lips. Miranda’s love of the Star Trek franchise began to show as she began explaining both of your costumes to Robin. “Don’t they look so cute? Captain L/n of the USS Enterprise reporting for duty! I am their chief of security!”

The constable donned a yellow Star Trek uniform indicating she was a part of the security crew on the starship. She had been so excited to put it on and had been using Star Trek references all night because of it. 

Robin hadn’t taken her eyes off of you as she secretly adored the way you made her best friend so happy. She was clearly amused with your couples costume. “I didn’t take you for a Trekkie, L/n.” 

Glancing from Miranda, who now rested her chin on your shoulder, to Robin, you rolled your eyes in jest, “Occupational hazard of dating Hilmarson over here.”

“What are you supposed to be, Rob?” Miranda asked, her hands winding around your stomach as she spoke to her best friend. Even after years of dating, you never grew tired of the physical affection she gave you.

“I’m your worst nightmare.” Robin wore a shit eating grin as she raised her glass towards you and Miranda before giving you a nod and walking off. 

—

When you returned home from the party, tispy Miranda took her time in removing her costume. You could tell she was absolutely in love with the chief of security outfit as she settled onto the couch in it with a bowl of cereal to watch reruns of Star Trek: The Next Generation. You curled up next to her, clad in one of her shirts, as you allowed her to educate you on the Star Trek universe.

Midway through the fourth episode of the evening, you felt Miranda’s body lean into yours. Her large hand gripped your forearm, her voice quiet and genuine. “I had so much fun tonight. Thank you so much for agreeing to wear matching costumes with me.”

You thought back on how disgruntled you had originally been about the outfit, but knowing Miranda was made happy made it all worth it. You offer a simple reply before turning your head and planting a kiss on her forehead. “Of course, Andy…”

“You make me so happy.” Miranda’s voice came again, a little more hoarse as if she were about to cry.

You turned to hold her face, hoping you could make her giggle or smile instead of conjuring tears. You give her cheeks a squeeze, nuzzling your nose against hers, “Awh.. Andy. You make me so happy.” 

Miranda sniffled once, but you spoke once more to distract her from the oncoming tears, “Now please tell me what Riker is up to in this episode. I can’t tell which head he is controlled by.”

The constable giggled at the innuendo and turned her attention back to the screen, explaining the sexually precarious situation that William Riker always seemed to be getting himself into.

Taglist: @charymobile, @bri-sonat, @weemswife, @smutuniversesblog, @opheliauniverse, @renravens, @whenyouhaveanobsession, @shyladyfan, @rubberduckiesbathing, @mcufanisme, @peanutbutterprincess, @larissaoftarthweems, @lvinhs, @myzzjolanda, @principal-weems09, @imlike-so-gaydude, @emilynissangtr, @xuukoo, @brienneswife, @oculusalien, @sweetderacine, @giogwensversion, @gela123, @thevillagegay, @katiemcgrathsbitch1, @naomi-m3ndez, @mysaviorfalsegod, @salems-spaghettios, @imgayforwoman69, @bychrissi, @bitchr-mkay, @h-doodles, @alexusonfire, @weemssapphic, @lilfartbox1, @mountain-bikingwitch, @aemilia19, @agathaandgwenslesbian, @gay-frogs08

[margaretoakgrove]

Not a monster

For Heisenberg it's never been a secret that here in the village he is called the most dangerous of all the four lords.

And for you, the lord's beloved, it's never been a secret either.

His reclusive life in the old factory on the very outskirts of the village, his superhuman physical strength and the power of controlling metal terrify the local villagers, making them create false rumours and foolish horror stories about him.

But you've never been afraid of him although you know that he really is dangerous but in your eyes for a completely different reason.

And the reason is his free and rebellious mind.

You are firmly convinced that the most dangerous person is the one whose mind cannot be controlled, and for you Karl has always been that kind of a man.

It doesn't matter how much time he spent in Miranda's research facility as a lab rat, she didn't manage to brainwash him and turn into her mindless and powerless slave.

The witch proclaimed herself his true mother and still calls him her son, but Karl, the only one of the four lords, knows the whole truth that is skilfully hidden behind the abominable lies.

The man knows that for Miranda he is nothing but another test subject which has become a failed vessel for her long-dead daughter. Just like his siblings and any other living soul in this godforsaken place.

Unlike Alcina, Donna and Moreau, Heisenberg never craved the love of the woman who turned his whole life into an actual hell.

To her within himself he found nothing but furious rage and hatred. Furious to the point that, being a genius at engineering by nature and with the help of his superhuman powers, he has began to create a huge army of mechanized undead soldiers, controllable by him and him alone, so one day he could make the crazy witch pay for everything she's done to him, grinding her with no mercy into paste, finally gaining desired freedom and becoming the only true ruler of his life, holding it within his own hands…

But the days when sadness pays our hearts a visit and a swarm of negative thoughts starts attacking our minds from time to time happen in the life of any human, even in the life of such a tough man like Heisenberg.

Today, feeling especially down, he bitterly told you that you shouldn't have stayed with him, that he was scared damn Miranda would take control over his mind one day and force him badly hurt or even kill you because, after all, he was a monster created by her. A very dangerous monster.

It seemed to you as if your heart cracked and began to bleed after everything he said.

"No! No, that's not true! You are not a monster! You've never been and you will never be a monster!" You slowly came to your beloved and carefully took his face within your hands. "You didn't choose this life. You didn't want anything what happened to you, but the humanity of your soul wasn't taken away, and i see so much human in you. The metal army of yours…those people…they were already dead. You didn't kill anyone of them. Miranda tried to make you feel like monster, but never forget that it's not for me but for her you are the scariest danger because she can't control nor destroy your free mind and human heart. Trust me, my dear, it's not in her power, that's why the damn witch is already failed! Karl, look at me…Please look at me…"

And he raised on you his eyes full of sorrow.

"I am not afraid of you. I love you. I accept you for who you really are and with everything you have. I want you to know that you are never alone because i am always here with you. I love you, Karl. I love you too much no matter what with all my heart. Everything is going to be alright, my love, and believe me when i say this. Together we can overcome absolutely anything!"

Heisenberg firmly closed his eyes, took your hands in his and gently kissed each palm before embracing you with all his might, nuzzling your hair. You immediately wrapped your arms around the lord's wide and strong back, slowly and tenderly rubbing it not even trying to hide the tears that were streaming down your cheeks.

Heisenberg knows perfectly well that in his life you are a bright lantern whose ever-burning light always helps him to walk through the darkness of sad days, and for that to you he is endlessly grateful.

And when the time of overwhelming sorrow is finally going away, the most powerful lord of the village is ready to fiercely fight again for his future happy life in freedom with you and only you.

For a life that no one will ever dare to ruin.