#then i really wonder how the story is ... i don't want to search up anything at all >< so yeah <3 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

talesofesther · 8 months ago

Text

until one of us caves

Rolan x Reader

Summary: After fighting Lorroakan, you decide to stay with Rolan.

A/N: I know that like maybe three people are gonna read this but I couldn't care less. The more I learned about Rolan's story, the bigger of a soft spot I got, and this little thought wouldn't leave my head so I had to write this down. Nothing serious, just something I wish I could do in the game. Also, this story kinda drifted a little from the original plan about halfway through and started writing itself, so don't blame me if the quality is dubious lmao. Requests for him are open I guess, if anyone's interested.

Word count: 3k

Masterlist

The scent of smoke and ash hung in the air. Stones and mud, remains of the elementals, littered the floor of Ramazith's Tower; as well as a few burned books here and there, smashed furniture, and splatters of blood in the marble. It would take a while to get the place back to the glory it could hold, but you figured it was doable.

The body of its previous master lay lifeless on the floor, spine broken, skin torn. You held no pity for him, only resentment.

From the corner of your eyes, you could spot a twitching tail and clenched fists, staring blankly at the body of his tormentor. He said nothing, merely huffed and walked away before you could think of saying anything, your gaze followed his steps.

The time between when you'd first set foot in Sorcerous Sundries and now had gone by in a haze. You had stopped dead in your tracks then, breath hitching as you caught sight of the countless bruises on Rolan's skin, and an overwhelming sense of protectiveness took over you. You'd walked up to him, the words "Who did this to you?" were stumbling past your lips before he even had the chance to utter the practiced greeting. Rolan had evaded the matter, as you'd expected, building ever higher walls around himself. And you'd surprised yourself with how restless the sight of him had made you feel.

"Soldier?" Karlach's hand on your shoulder pulled you back to the present, making you quickly turn your head back to her.

You blinked several times until your eyes regained their focus; "yeah?"

She gave you a halfhearted smile and you wondered just how much your turmoil showed on your face. "I was just asking if you're alright, and… where do we go from here." Her voice held kindness to it, as it usually did. More often than not Karlach was, surprisingly, a calming balm in your hectic days.

"Uh-" you hesitated. Perhaps you should already be used to being the one people turned to in search of guidance, leadership. But it was a title you'd never really asked for, was it?

"You guys should go ahead, dispose of him somewhere," you gestured to Lorroakan's lifeless form, "before anyone walks in on… all of this."

Karlach nodded along and then raised a brow at you. "And what of you?" She asked, yet there was a smirk on her lips that alluded to the fact that she already knew the answer.

"I'll hang back." Your cheeks warmed up, "I'll meet you guys at Elfsong later."

"Take your time, soldier," Karlach winked at you, then turned to hurl the dead Wizard's body over her shoulder. "Right let's go people, nothing left to see here."

"And how exactly do you intend to walk around the city with that?" Shadowheart asked exasperatedly, yet followed Karlach to the swirling portal nonetheless.

The tiefling shrugged, holding Lorroakan's body with one arm, "I don't know. If anyone asks we'll just say he's drunk or something."

"Are you out of your mind?"

"Oh, I want to see that."

Shadowheart and Astarion added simultaneously, one rolling her eyes and the other smiling brightly.

"Alright then, you think of some excuse for-"

You chuckled at the banter of your companions, their voices growing distant as they disappeared through the portal that would take them back to the bustle of Sorcerous Sundries.

With a deep breath in and a long exhale out, you turned around, gaze slowly roaming over the empty expanse of the luxurious tower; now so quiet, bordering on serene, save for the damage the battle left behind. Until you finally spotted the one you were looking for.

Rolan was tucked away in a shadowy corner, head bowed as he stacked a few fallen books on his hands and then beside each other on the shelves. His movements all stiff and slow, as if the books were much too heavy and it hurt to carry them.

The worry twirling in your stomach threatened to escape as you took careful steps towards him. Yet you still weren't sure how to approach him. The tower suddenly held a nearly intimate air. It was delicate, fragile. The lines between you and him had started to blur, you couldn't pinpoint when, but they did; and now, in the privacy of the high tower, you started to feel the weight of it.

You cleared your throat, but the tiefling didn't turn to look at you, though his shoulders relaxed ever so slightly. You wondered if he knew you'd stayed, or perhaps hoped you would.

"Rolan… would you like some help with organizing things a little? At least for the night?" You tried, unsure what else you could possibly say and biting back the urge to tell him that he looked like he needed a good night's rest. He wouldn't admit it, you knew; but the fight had taken a huge toll on his already bruised body. He looked utterly exhausted; shoulders slumped, tail laying limply on the floor, barely holding himself together.

He turned his head to glance at you, an unreadable expression on his face, and lips hovering with uncertainty for a moment. "No, I can manage…" Rolan's voice was quiet, his features softly highlighted by the last fading rays of sunshine coming through the tall windows. You could see the bruises on his cheek, jaw, and nose—some new, some old; darker shades blooming on his reddish skin.

"You can go," he turned away again.

"Are you… sure?" You took half a step forward, fidgeting with your own hands. You didn't feel like leaving him just yet.

"Yes. I'm sure." He finally faced you fully in a quick motion, eyebrows slightly furrowed, "I'm not a helpless child, I can at least take care of organizing this mess by myself, if nothing else."

You closed your eyes momentarily at his words, "That's- that's not what I meant, I know you can-"

"What is it you want then? That I thank you for saving my sorry ass? Again?" His tone held bite to it, anger even, yet you had a feeling that it wasn't directed at you, but at himself. With a huff, he threw aside the one book he still held in his hands, "Okay then, thank you, your heroic attitude of the day has been achieved." He gestured toward you, speaking as if he had been just another thing to check off your list.

The movement of his mouth had pried open a fresh cut he had on his lip. Rolan didn't seem to notice, but the small sliver of blood glinted in the low light. Your heart ached, but not for his words, they were mostly empty. It ached because you saw how much he was hurting. That defeated look lingered in his golden eyes, the same you'd seen at Last Light Inn when he had been incapable of rescuing his siblings. You wished you could tell him he was enough. You wished he would believe you.

You took in a steadying breath, holding onto your composure for both of your sakes. "It's not about being a hero, Rolan, it's about helping the people I care about."

Another scoff fell past his lips, he avoided your eyes, looking distantly out the window beside him; "What are you doing here then?"

You merely raised an eyebrow at him, features soft, allowing him to believe in whatever he wanted to believe.

His throat worked through a heavy gulp when he glanced at you again, tail swishing behind him as he took half a step back. "Sod off," the words came out heavy and unstable, "You came here because Lorroakan was after your Aasimar friend… Your job is done now, you can leave." He stormed past you then, quick steps taking him to the other side of the tower.

With a roll of your eyes, you followed after him, "I came here because I care about you, too." You tried to convey as much sincerity in your words as you could, staring intently at his back as he raised a fallen chair. You caught a glimpse of his tail, coiled tightly around his own leg. You wondered if he even realizes he's doing it, if it's some kind of self-soothing habit he's learned over the years.

His hair had been undone, too, falling freely over his shoulders and looking a tad longer than what you were used to. The look suited him—a touch of softness in his usually sharp appearance—in the back of your mind you promised yourself to tell him that someday.

Several beats of silence went by. With Rolan holding tightly onto the back of the wooden chair. You tended to be annoyingly insistent, the tiefling thought to himself. Ever since the first time he met you, you had a habit of refusing to give up on people. On him. Rolan tried to tell himself it didn't get to him, that the butterflies in his stomach, and the overwhelming relief your mere presence brought him meant absolutely nothing. Because of course, you wouldn't look twice at someone like him, would you?

It was ironically sad that his heart would choose you—the hero, his hero—of all people, to have a soft spot for. He could never measure up, not really, and he knew that; told himself that very fact over and over whenever his mind dared to hope with what-ifs.

"You don't mean that," his voice was small and he berated himself for allowing it to be. He closed his eyes tightly, knuckles growing white with his grip on the chair. "And I was fine," Rolan emphasized the words yet he didn't know anymore if he was trying to convince you or himself.

Silence engulfed the tower again. Deafening silence. One sharp claw tapped the back of the wooden chair, a fast rhythm, following the heartbeat thundering through his veins. With a defeated sigh, Rolan turned to face you. Still, he refused to meet your eyes, focusing instead on the fabric of your glove wrapped around your hand; he could see faint scars on your fingers, wondered how you got them.

"Were you, really?" You asked then, softly, near desperately; waiting with bated breath for him to just look at you.

Rolan was a little difficult to get to, had been since you first met him. Part of you rather enjoyed your harmless bickering every now and then. Behind the witty words, there had always been hidden smiles and bashful eyes, the hopeful glint of being in each other's presence, if briefly.

Alas, you weren't exactly entitled to pry or demand, much as you cared for him it wasn't your place, so you relented; "Tell me you're alright, truly alright, and I'll leave if that's what you want so bad."

Rolan hesitated for a heartbeat, and then two, and three. Any words he might want to say were stuck in his throat, tangled in between feelings that confused the hells out of him. How could he ever tell you that he's not alright? That he hasn't been for a long time?

How could he tell you that he doesn't want you to leave, ever?

There was a distant stinging behind his eyes and he hated himself for it, for being so needy and vulnerable. He hated how his palms were sweaty and his heart threatened to break free of his ribcage with the speed it was beating. He hated how his knees seemed on the brink of collapsing with his weight. He hated how he suddenly felt all the bruises in his body hurting so badly, as if only now he allowed himself to feel the pain they inflicted. He hated-

A soft touch on his lower lip halted Rolan's spiraling thoughts abruptly, and his breath. With the sleeve of your robe, movement as light as a feather, you cleaned a sliver of blood that had escaped the fresh cut there. Rolan shuddered under your touch, for like a breath of fresh air after nearly drowning to death, that was all he could feel.

Pointy teeth dug into the inside of his cheek, holding back what would only be a flood of embarrassment for him if he allowed his pestering emotions to spill. His throat closed up tight, vision growing hazy until you were nothing but a blur in front of him.

There was something about the way you touched him oh so tenderly that got his walls tumbling down as if they were paper under the rain. Your hand lingered, refusing to part from him. Your fingers trailed a hesitant path to his cheek, mapping the bruises underneath- no, mapping his skin, him.

And he could crumble. Rolan felt himself falling, falling, falling.

When was the last time he felt a kind touch? one that didn't hurt or sting or threatened? He couldn't recall.

"I do mean it, I care about you, Rolan." You promised him, and only him. Whispered words dripping with affection.

The front of your boots hit his shoes as you took a final step closer. Rolan brought one hand up, his fingers closing around your wrist with urgency. Yet his hold was gentle, pressing into the veins there and feeling your pulse running beneath his fingertips. He held you there, all but begging you to stay. Words were difficult, complicated, and messy; hopefully his soul could tell you what he couldn't.

With your heart in your mouth, you mumbled; "it's okay. It's over." You're not sure if he heard or felt the words, but Rolan dipped his head forward until his forehead bumped yours.

Suddenly close wasn't close enough. You wanted to kiss away his tears, his bruises, his pain; promise him that everything would be alright now even if your own life was a sea of uncertainty.

"Why?" It fell past his lips. Such a genuine question uttered with such a small voice that it hurt you like a dagger to the heart.

"Why do these things happen to me?" Rolan's voice cracked and stumbled, his eyebrows briefly furrowed in a mix of anger and sorrow. "I-" he breathed in deep and unsteady, bright eyes welling with unshed tears that shone brightly under the soft candlelights on the walls.

You gulped back your own heartache, struggling to keep to yourself how soft he made you feel. You slowly raised your other hand to push fallen strands of hair behind his ear.

"I hoped it had a purpose," he admitted then, quiet as breath. His lower lip quivered before he spoke again, closing his eyes and leaning timidly towards your touch. "That it was a test, and he would- he would eventually stop. That I just needed to endure a while longer."

A choked sob stumbled past his lips and you felt the first of his tears landing on your thumb. Rolan shook his head, a self-deprecating scoff falling past his lips; "that I deserved it."

"Stop," you said before you could think, finally taking your hand away from his cheek, only to bury it into his hair instead. With the encouragement you knew he needed, you pulled him to you.

Rolan fell forward with no restraints, no hesitations, only a weary soul looking for solace. He buried his head between your neck and shoulder, both arms coming around your waist and squeezing tightly, to the point of his claws nearly ripping your robe.

You held him back with the same desperation, one hand tangling in between his hair and cradling his head to you. Your lips brushed the nape of his neck in a silent confession of adoration.

The fabric of your robe grew damp as silent tears fell past Rolan's defenses, his body shaking in your hold, releasing months if not years of bottled-up emotions.

With a kiss to his warm skin, embers of the fire he ignited in your heart broke free; "You could never deserve what he did to you. You're so very special, Rolan. To Cal, To Lia…" You told him, slow and tender, twirling strands of his hair between your fingers, and a small smile stretched your lips when you felt him relaxing against you. "… To me." It was nothing but a whisper, blown into the wind only for him to hear.

Rolan's breath stumbled, you felt it in the way he gripped you tighter—if that was even possible—and heard it in the soft gasp beside your ear.

"Please don't-" His voice broke in the middle, all husky and wobbly from his tears. "Don't say… that. If you don't mean-" he hesitated, fresh tears cascading freely down his cheeks, beyond any foolish attempt to be held back; they dripped down the bridge of his nose and soaked the fabric of your robe, making him curl into you all the more to hide his embarrassment from the outside world.

"Please," it was so quiet as he pleaded. For what, he wasn't entirely sure anymore. Maybe he just knew he couldn't take losing anything else.

You pulled back and Rolan felt his heart stumbling and cracking in his chest. But you were quick to mend it back together, with both hands coming up to hold his cheeks again, your thumbs brushing away the wetness there, near reverently.

"I promise," you whispered, gaze drifting ever so slightly downward before focusing back on his bright eyes. You were bold enough to lean in until the tip of your nose touched his, and as you did so you felt something coiling around your leg. You smiled; "I promise."

Rolan gulped, his mouth parting as he barely held himself back from closing the gap between you. Goosebumps littered his whole body when his upper lip accidentally brushed yours.

He pulled away but refused to loosen his grip on your waist. "I don't want you to leave," he said it so quietly, offering you his bleeding heart with a shaking hand.

Gentle fingers brushed away the messy strands of hair clinging to his forehead. When Rolan looked up, there was a loving smile on your lips, it was the first time he saw it and he already knew he'd kill to see it again.

You leaned closer, and with a kiss between his brows, you said; "then I'll stay."

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keeps me motivated to continue posting here, so I’d appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment. <3

You do not have permission to repost, copy, or translate my works on any platforms (even with credit), please respect.

Rolan’s taglist: @milkiane@v1ci0us

#rolan #rolan x reader #rolan bg3 #holy rolan empire #rolan x tav #rolan baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #rolan imagine #rolan x female reader #imagine #fanfic #fluff #angst #rolan fanfic #my story

418 notes · View notes

daryltwdixon · 3 months ago

Text

Live-In Bodyguard

A requested one shot:

hi!! i was wondering if you could write a little story where y/n and daryl were paired to live together when they first arrived at Alexandria and now have been living together for a while. They’re not necessarily friends, and actually don't really like each other and one day daryl is out hunting when y/n spills something on her clothes, leaving her with nothing but one of daryls old t shirts. 🤭🤭🤭🤭 he comes home and catches her in the kitchen where she pulls the tshirt down to cover her underwear and keeps apologizing. Tyyyyy @dixon555

I did take a little bit of creative liberty on the situation in which he catches you in buttttt what can I say :)

Fluffy, protective Daryl

When Rick comes out to meet you and the rest of the group, explaining the rooming situation at the compound you've arrived to, you can tell he seems hesitant before breaking the news to you.

“Y/N…” he says carefully, his hand rubbing at his growing beard, “you and…” he looks over to Daryl, his eyes searching his chosen brother’s face.

“No way,” you say, suddenly understanding, “No way, Rick. I can’t live with this guy,” your thumb points over your shoulder.

“Like you’re such a ray of sunshine,” Daryl snaps back at you, “think I wanna share a place with you either?”

You and Daryl were…I mean, obviously you had lived together the past however long it had been since the group had found you. It had actually been Daryl who found you in an abandoned house, covered in walker guts and dirt after hearing you screaming when there was a whole group coming into the cabin. But since then, you'd been living in close quarters with everyone. As much as you had appreciated him coming after you, the rest of the time you’ve known him he’s always been on you–how you can’t be trusted on your own, always needing protection, never allowing you out of his sight. You had started going crazy that this man would barely speak to you, but insisted on always having eyes on you at all times.

Rick sighs, looking at the ground, his forefinger and thumb at the bridge of his nose, “Look, y’all need to figure something out, this is just what I was told. The house has two rooms, you won’t be in each other’s way–”

“Great, great. Thanks a lot,” you groan, heading toward the row of houses, “my own live-in bodyguard,”

“Be nice,” you hear Rick saying under his breath to Daryl.

“Always am,” Daryl replies.

This was going to suck.

—------------

You’re drinking coffee at the small kitchen table in your house at Alexandria, finally starting to feel settled in the place. Daryl was out in the beginning days of your time here, he finally understood that the walls were enough to keep you safely out of harm’s way. You had tried to sneak out a few times, only to find him waiting for you at the exit, ready to stop you. It’s like he could read your damn mind. So, you gave up trying to work around his helicopter protection. You decided to focus on your house, making it a home for you. If Daryl was going to be out hunting most days anyway, you figured you would make it how you wanted it. You found a way to decorate the place, even if it wasn’t the easiest task. The walls had been freshly painted a couple weeks ago when you saw they were a nasty mustard yellow when you had first walked in.

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

“Oh god,” you had moaned.

Daryl paused, suddenly rushing to you. He came up to your side quickly, scanning the room. You could tell he was on high alert.

“No, no, it’s nothing,” you assured him, “Just…the walls,”

“The…walls?” he had grunted out

“They’re ugly,” you said to him, simply.

“And you were hoping for…?”

“Maybe a nice blue or something, anything but this awful mustard,” you said, and began walking around to discover the rest of the place.

Two days later you had found a note stuck to a pail on the kitchen counter, with a large roller brush on top. When you approached it, a small, traitorous smile had crossed your lips.

“For making the walls less ugly”

You hardly had to guess who the terrible handwriting was from.

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

You took the whole day to paint, excited for a new project that felt like making the house a home. Setting your lukewarm coffee down on the wooden floor to dip the paintbrush in a fresh coat of paint, you begin your task. You’re lifting the paintbrush up to the wall, gliding it gently along the seams where the corners meet. When you step back to view your work, you trip over your half empty coffee mug you left on the ground, causing you to flail your arms out for support, the paint brush in your hand splattering all over your shirt.

“Ah, shit,” you thought out loud, touching the bits of paint that were wet on your shirt now. There were blue splatters all down the front of your shirt and your sleeves. You sighed, and looked around. You might as well finish before going up to change.

When all four walls of the downstairs were done, you head up the stairs.

Unfortunately, you hadn’t really had the chance to get out and scavenge for new clothes in Alexandria since you mostly stayed in the house, trying to acclimate the past couple of days. Daryl was out on a hunting trip today–surprise, surprise. He seemed so pent up since arriving. Every little thing pissed him off lately, his temper was so easily brought out of him. Not that he was very forthcoming on the reason he was so annoyed lately. But you would see him roll his eyes, scoff, and just overall pouting as soon as you arrived. You knew Daryl was most comfortable out in the woods–it was his happy place, oddly. As much as anyone else was terrified to be out in the woods alone, he cherished it. He barely talked to you in the past months you’ve known him but you were quietly getting to know him from afar. Or at least as far as he’d let you get from him. He was intriguing as much as he was annoying to you.

So you’re up stairs, searching to see if any of your dresser drawers happen to have a fresh set of clothes, but it seems you’re out of luck. The drawers are barren, the dusty wooden bottoms seemed to be mocking you now. ‘Told you to get some clothes,’ they tell you as you open and clothes every single one to no avail. ‘Should've left the house for some when you had the chance–now look at you’. You shake your head– anthropomorphizing a dresser is weird. It’s a dresser. It doesn’t speak. But if this one could you know it would be chiding you for being such a recluse the past few days of arriving at the commune. A sudden thought occurs to you– you had seen Daryl walking in with a few things over his arm yesterday when he came in from being out in the woods again. He had grumbled something along the lines of getting called to the main house and being told off for looking like a forest creature with how ratty his clothes were looking. It had made you chuckle to see him embarrassed, holding a pile of crisp clothes that were such a stark contrast against him, but now you were suddenly grateful. Maybe you could take one of them and he wouldn’t even realize it was his, since he probably hadn’t worn any of them. Looking out into the hallway to make sure he hadn’t snuck in and was about to catch you, you quietly walk over to his room. You hold the doorknob in your palm for a long second, talking yourself into going in. It’ll be fine, it’s not weird–it's just Daryl. You close your eyes shut tight and open the door.

The room was pretty barren much like yours, you weren’t sure what you were expecting, really. As you look around you see signs of his presence though– his poncho hangs over the back of the chair at the desk, the keys to the motorcycle on the wooden chest at the bottom of his bed.

You sneak over quietly to the chest of things, putting his keys to the side and opening it with delicacy. He could walk in here at any minute and find you snooping, and you’d be dead meat. But when you open the chest, none of the new clothes are there. It’s all his old stuff–the ratty sleeveless shirts, the angel wing vest he would wear, a big tee shirt with car or motorcycle oil stains… You stand and deliberate your best course of action. These options are still better than sitting in dry crusted paint all over you all day. They’re not necessarily dirty, since Carol had come over yesterday to take everyone’s things to be washed. Daryl had surprisingly neatly folded them up in the chest when he put them away–or maybe Carol had and he just left them like that. Gingerly, you pick up the large tee shirt with the faded oil stains, giving it a once over before deciding it was good enough. You take it and make your way to the shower, praying Daryl isn’t back til the evening when you could put it back before bed.

You’re stepping out of the shower, wringing your hair out when you hear the door close out in the living room. Oh, shit. You were stupid enough to leave your paint splattered shirt in your bedroom along with your pants, only bringing in Daryl’s shirt and a pair of underwear to change into after your shower. You curse at yourself inwardly, figuring there was no way out but to face it. Hopefully Daryl would just stay downstairs while you made your way to your room to put your own clothes back on. You throw the tee shirt on, and it surprisingly makes its way past your butt, hiding everything just enough to be decent if he were to accidentally spot you running for it down the hallway. You collect yourself, wringing your hair out one more time before hanging your towel on the door and stepping out. Steam escapes the bathroom as the door swings open, and you’re looking around the door frame, making sure no one is there. You sigh in relief when you see no one on the landing–Daryl is still downstairs then. Or maybe he’s not even here and just had to grab something on his way out again.

If only you were so lucky.

You’re on the way to your room, padding over gently to your door, hand on the banister to keep yourself steady, when you catch in the corner of your eye coming up the stairs. You freeze on the top landing, directly in front of the staircase when he catches you trying to creep down the hall.

His eyes linger on your face for a minute, and you watch his eyes suddenly scanning you from head to toe. You look down at yourself to assess how screwed your situation is– your wet hair is dripping on the shirt, making parts of it damp and see through. Of course where your hair meets your chest, the wetness is the worst, making the shirt cling to you like a second skin. Your eyes dart up to him as you take in your nearly drenched chest, your nipples hardening to the cold air now that they’re wet. His eyes are glued to you, still on your chest until they start to scan down to your bare legs, where the shirt just barely covers you decently. You squeeze your legs together, bringing the shirt past your underwear, a blush blazing across your face and neck. “Daryl, I'm sorry, I just--”

But suddenly he’s climbing up the stairs and grabbing you so quickly that the air escapes your lungs as he holds you against the wall, his lips crashing into yours.

#daryl #daryl dixon #twd daryl #the walking dead #daryl x reader #the walking dead daryl #daryl one shot #daryl fanfiction #daryl dixion imagine #daryl twd #requested one shot #requests are open #twd #twd one shot #fluffy

289 notes · View notes

futurecorps3 · 1 year ago

Note

Hiii. This is my first time requesting so I don't know if I'm doing it correctly, but here it goes. It's about poly marauders

One in which the reader gets detention and the boys are wondering why and she does not tell them , and they get angry at her because they think she did a prank without them ar something

And then it turns out she like punched Snape , because he was talking bad about her boys and her. And like can you make it very very fluffy in the end

𝐑𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐭

Masterlist<3

Summary: Read the request baby Pairing: Poly!marauders x reader Warnings: physical violence but not too descriptive, Snape calls reader a slut ❤️ and some more mean stuff. Word Count: .9K Requested: Yes

A/N: Yes!!! I love love love the angst this gives<3 Thanks for requesting my love, you did it correctly, there's rarely a wrong way of doing it so please don't worry! Also, this turned out to be a drabble more than a fic, hope you don't mind <3

Eyes turned as the beloved quartet stormed through the common room and onto the stairs of the Gryffindor dorms. Sirius trying to catch Y/N's wrist so she wouldn't lock herself in her room while their boyfriends walked behind them, James with an upset look in his eyes and Remus sporting furrowed eyebrows that showed unease more than anything.

"Y/N just talk to me!" the raven haired boy grumbled, trying to catch up with his girlfriend, eventually doing so right before she shut the door on his face. "Thanks babe," mumbled Prongs as their boyfriend held the door open for them. The girl sat on her bed when all the others in the dorm quickly left so they could have some privacy, not wanting to snoop on whatever the matter was.

"Why are you even upset about this!? I got detention, big deal" Y/N sighs, cradling her head in her hands, a headache from all the commotion already settling in. Her boyfriends knew she was suppressing something, and Sirius was really pissed about it; she didn't make it to their date that day, and when they found her she was exiting McGonagall's classroom with Snape.

"Oh, I don't know, maybe because we were stood up by our girlfriend and noticed she so happened to be in detention with our worst enemy!?" "That's a bit dramat-" James started but was soon interrupted by his boyfriend's cold stare and decided to keep his comment to himself.

"What are you hiding?" Said Prongs in a very defensive tone, making Y/N lose it. "Hiding!? Like I committed a crime or some shit... I got detention and Snivellus got detention! That's it, so j-just go." Remus shook his head and walked over to his girlfriend, his boyfriends shutting up when he did. He had kept quiet since they found her, but since that's exactly how the boy acted when he got mad, he really couldn't blame her for not approaching him.

Something told him there was way more to this whole deal than being in detention; Remus could read everyone like one of his novels, and Y/N's slightly red knuckles and shaky hands were definitely telling a story. He gently took her hands and searched for those beautiful brown eyes, finding them slightly glossed over.

"How are you not mad at all!?" The Potter boy asked, an approving nod coming from their boyfriend, who was now under his arms to calm himself down. "Something's up" Moony mumbled, audibly enough for them to hear. Y/N tensed up at that. Bingo.

He sat next to her, and she immediately crawled up on his lap, covering his sweater in salty tears. They knew Y/N short circuited when she was upset, so they all got very protective whenever she cried or got too angry; "She kind of freezes," Padfoot said once. "It's okay, keep breathing," Moony cooed as their boyfriends sat next to them, all anger forgotten and replaced by worry.

They waited for a couple of minutes until she calmed down, and when her breath steadied, she left her safe heaven Remus' chest. Y/N crawled down his lap and sat between James and him. "I punched Snape on the face because he was being mean again and I got sick of his shit..."

Prongs' gaze went directly to her knuckles in worry. Sirius laughed loudly and kissed her cheek while Remus smiled proudly at his girl; she was upset because they pushed her, not for whatever reason got her in detention. Y/N smiled, reassuring her boyfriend her hand was okay and letting the raven haired boy pepper her face in kisses.

They knew their girlfriend had a fire inside

"What did he say now? Wanna talk about it?" Prongs quizzed, knowing it was common for Y/N to get in her head about these types of things. "He called me a slut, said it must be some muggle stuff that I got you three involved in... and then said Jamie is compensating for not being able to be with Lily since she's with Mary"

"I'll hex the bastard" Said Sirius with his French accent seeping through as it so happened when he was upset, already getting up from the bed before Remus grabbed his wrist. "Calm down love, it's nothing he hasn't said before". James gave him a reassuring smile, agreeing with their boyfriend as Moony chuckled; "Plus, I think he got enough, courtesy of our bright girl".

Y/N laughed at that before noticing a certain glint in their boyfriend's eyes. "All good Jamie?" She asked, grabbing his face in both her hands, his pair of glasses partially hiding the pools of brown gazing at her lovingly. "M'sorry we were mean to you" he mumbled, pouting slightly as he looked into her eyes.

The girl's heart melted, hugging James tightly. "It's okay" "It's not though" said Sirius in a whine, hugging her from behind, making a sandwich of his boyfriend, girlfriend and him laying on the bed. Y/N giggled at the gesture, grabbing Pad's hand and looking over her shoulder at him. "You were very dramatic, but that's nothing new a-and I think it's a normal reaction. I do have to admit it was..." "...sketchy?" "...weird?" they completed.

"... rather unusual," she smiled, kissing them both on the mouth. "You're both forgiven". "Well, this is just mean. Make some space" Remus grumbled, settling between James and Y/N as they all giggled and Prongs kissed him softly.

They spent their afternoon there. With Christmas break approaching, teachers were more flexible when it came to assignments, so even Remus allowed himself to slack a little just to be with his loves. Nothing could hurt them, ever.

The scene was a portrait of their love; a warm bed, sweaty limbs and kisses all shared with the highest intimacy that spoke of a love that would endure the greatest test of all which is time.

˚ · • . ° .

It’s currently 12am and my brain isn’t working so i’ll just post this and place the word count in the morning.

Remember, the best way to support writer’s works on here is by REBLOGGING WITH TAGS. I’d very much appreciate it if you did!

Thanks again, stranger. Hope you have a nice day<3

NO ONE IS ALLOWED TO REPOST AS THEIR OWN/TRANSLATE/OR COPY MY WORK IN ANY PLATFORM OR SPACE WITHOUT MY EXPLICIT CONSENT.

1K notes · View notes

genderfluid-insomniac · 3 months ago

Note

Hey, i'm not sure if i can ask u this(u can just not answer if u want)but here i was wondering....

What Would happen if Sun and Mac(separate) met a fem Reader that is an incredibly nice and chill(and very beautiful)person, she's really kind and looks out for them, they bond and become friends in the process, but then after one crazy drunk Night, they don't see the Reader nor hear bout' her for a while(which upsets them a lot), until they run into her again, trying to contain their joy(or frustration if u prefer) they suddenly notice a child behind her,one that looks exactly like them, demanding an explanation, turns out the Reader didn't tell them anything BC they were scared of simply Being Seen as a "one Night stand", not having their feeling Being reciprocated and having their child Being rejected(also didn't want push the fatherly into them) so she raised the child herself, and always made sure to give them all her love despite not having it's father(s) by her Side.

a/n: I got a bit carried away and of course Macaque’s is long because this would shatter his trust and it wouldn’t recover as fast as Wukong would.

One night stand reunion //Sun Wukong x fem!reader x Macaque (separately)

Sun Wukong

When he first met you he swore that love at first sight wasn’t a thing but you were incredibly nice and beautiful, maintaining a chill attitude no matter the situation and easily continuing the conversation naturally.

You both first met at a festival on the outskirts of the city where you found him talking with another boy before catching your gaze. Of course, you knew who he was but it didn’t really matter to you since you just wanted to talk to him.

After a couple of minutes, you both warmed up to one another and talked the night away. You both clearly hit it off immediately and slowly became friends which started edging towards more as you both said flirt after flirt.

One night both of you were having drinks and became tipsy, getting closer and closer with hands roaming up both of your bodies. You kissed passionately and slowly stripped down to nothing, ending the night in each other's arms exhausted and panting harshly.

However as days passed he didn’t see you and started to search all over the city, asking MK and the gang if they’d seen you and describing your features only to find nothing. Anybody could tell Wukong was depressed about your sudden disappearance and tried to cheer him up only for every attempt to fail.

A couple of years later suddenly MK calls Wukong to come to the shop since someone was asking to meet him and zoomed over to meet this stranger. You were nervously pacing back and forth with your child holding onto your hand behind you, poking you to get your attention, and looking wide-eyed at Wukong who stares shocked at you both.

His eyes go from you to your child who is almost a carbon copy of him aside from a few details and back to you, ushering your kid to MK and Pigsy while you listen to his frustration and grievances. He was right on some points and you teared up when you yelled that you were scared he didn’t love you back or worse that he didn’t want the baby so you raised them alone.

There were a few minutes of silence before Wukong kneeled down and peered over at his kid, slowly coaxing them out and smiling warmly when he introduced himself and apologized for not being in their life.

The entire night was emotional for everyone and you all spent the night on FFM, sharing stories from the past years and cuddling each other to make up for lost time.

Macaque

Now you were at a full moon harvest festival when you decided to take a break and hang on the edge of the area when you spotted a dark-furred monkey leaning against a tree. He didn’t seem up to chat and mostly ignored you for a bit, respecting his wishes and sitting in pleasant silence. You heard him sigh and speak up, making a joke about how persistent you were to make conversation.

Macaque was surprised by how insistent you were to talk to him but also how nice you were, respecting his wishes and relaxing next to him. You were gorgeous on top of how amazing your personality was it made him want to know you more than just a stranger but his fractured trust issues made it hard to get to know you better.

Unlike Wukong it takes a couple of weeks to become good friends and a couple of months to get to that night where you get drunk, leaning on him and slowly creeping closer. Another drink and you both go for a kiss, climbing onto his lap and wrapping your arms around his neck. You bring him back to your apartment and lead him to your bedroom, quickly stripping and feeling him trailing kisses down your neck.

All of a sudden though, in the following days you disappeared, and he at first thought you were busy so he left it at that but it quickly changed when he couldn’t find you anywhere. All he could find was a note taped to your door for him and it read that you were eternally sorry for what you were about to do but you didn’t want to burden him.

This shattered already broken trust issues and caused him to go into a year-long depression where he had so many different emotions bothering him it physically pained him. No one could get him out or break him out of it and he hated that a part of him still held out hope for you.

2 or so years later he seemed to have finally been getting over you or at least seemed as though he got over it to others when he was walking along the marketplace only to see a familiar face pass through the crowd. Without hesitation, he slipped into the shadows to see if it was really you and it was!

Part of him was furious that you had the audacity to show up here like nothing had ever happened but the other part was nearly crying out of joy that you were back. Without question, he dropped you through a shadow portal to a more private area and stepped out of the shadows.

You both stared at one another before he started shouting about how you didn’t even explain why you left or bothered to even tell him in person. He laid into you with shout after shout and screaming how much you hurt him with tears pricking his eyes, looking at your face with tears streaming down your face, and waited patiently for a response.

However, a small voice spoke up, and a nearly identical version of him but a toddler pulled on your hand also crying, asking you if you were okay and to not cry with a hand over one set of their six ears. You continued to sob but kneeled down on the concrete to hug your kid barely sputtering out apologies to them about the noise and that you were just sad.

He watched in shock as the dark-furred cub wrapped their tail around your arm and cupped your face, trying to wipe your tears and getting caught in a staring match with him. The kid looked back and forth between their mom and him before standing protectively in front of you and correctly assuming he was the reason you were upset.

After a couple of minutes, he knelt down as well continuing to look at your kid and having trouble figuring out what to say since he was still hurt but also now understanding the situation. You sniffled and wiped the remaining tears from your eyes, staring at the ground beginning to explain that you panicked.

You told him how after a couple of days you took a pregnancy test and it came up positive but you assumed that he didn’t love you back and would be disgusted or hateful if he found out about your baby. Then explain to your kid that he was their father and profusely apologizing and understanding if he never wanted to see you again.

It was like Macaque was looking into a mirror as he saw the child’s six ears flutter and he took down the glamour around his own ears, seeing the cub light up in astonishment and touch their own ears. They slowly walked toward him and tentatively put his hand out, wanting to touch his dad and slowly allowing them to hug him.

All the while you looked on with a bittersweet smile and heard Macaque respond that it would take a long time for him to fully trust you again but he could understand why you what you did. You started crying when you saw him quietly crying too and crumbled as you were allowed to hug him as well.

#lmk x reader #lmk macaque #lmk macaque x reader #lmk sun wukong #lmk sun wukong x reader #sun wukong x reader #sun wukong #six eared macaque x reader #six eared macaque

191 notes · View notes

chaussetteblanche · 1 year ago

Note

Hi ! So I just loved your Luke castellan’s stories and I was wondering if you could write a story with him starting to date a child of Athena (the reader) but she wants to keep their relationship secret because she’s afraid Annabeth would get mad at her for « stealing » her hero away. Reader and Luke get caught by Annabeth whose reaction is « Finally » as she’s seen the two of them pinning on each other for years. It would be great if it was fluffy.

Sorry for the long request and thank you for your work ! It’s amazing !

hi baby, thanks so much for requesting! this was really fun to write :) hope you like it <3

Finally

pairing : luke castellan x child of athena!reader summary : two times your relationship with luke is almost revealed and the one time when it is word count : 2.6k warnings : none

"W-wait, no, Luke, we can't." Luke froze immediately, his eyes searching yours for the reasoning behind your words. You licked your lips and leaned your head back against the wood of the cabin he had pressed you up against, letting out a small sigh. His hands were on your waist, your skin was fire underneath. You could feel his warm breath against your lips. Your hands were on his shoulders, your fingers fiddling with the string around his neck. You two had never been so close before in a context which was not sparring. And he'd been about to finally kiss you but you'd stopped him.

"I- it's just with Annabeth, y'know? I don't want her to feel like I'm stealing her away from you or anything." You worried your bottom lip, looking up at him sheepishly. His brows raised in comprehension and he nodded slowly, thumbs rubbing slow circles into your sides. "Yeah, I get it. I understand why you feel that way, but also, what I feel for you is very different than what I feel for Annabeth. I think that would be clear to pretty much anyone, love. And she's smart, she'll understand, don't you think?"

You kept quiet, still nibbling on your bottom lip, your eyes trained to the colourful beads around his throat. "Baby, if you bite your lip one more time, I'm going to do it for you," Luke warned in a low voice. You looked up at him as he pulled your bottom lip out from between your teeth with his thumb. He kept his finger there for a moment before pulling it away. Yeah, this isn't going to work for me, you thought. You couldn't imagine yourself not kissing him. Not when you'd been like this, not after the years of tension and wondering and worrying which had led up to this moment.

"How 'bout we just keep it secret?" you suggested, hands trailing down his front before stopping at his waist. You lightly fisted the material of his T-shirt, using it to slowly pull him closer. "What, us?" he whispered huskily. "Yeah." "You know what?" he chuckled, "I'll take it."

He wasted no time in capturing your lips with his, pushing himself flush against you. You let out a breath as you kissed him, your arms wrapping around his neck to pull him impossibly closer.

"God, I've been wanting to do that for ages," he groaned against your lips. Your hand tangled itself in his hair as you tilted your head to the side. "Shut up and kiss me, Castellan."

And so you kept your relationship hidden from everyone. No one could know. You both knew Annabeth well, her being your actual half-sister and like Luke's little sister, so you knew that if anyone got the gist of what was happening between the two of you, she'd know. She would find a way to know. She always did.

So you were careful. You knew how much your half-sister admired and respected Luke the last thing you wanted was to take that away from her. She'd been through a lot, more than she should have ever gone through, and you knew having Luke as an older-brother-figure was very important and healthy for her.

At first, you allowed yourselves nothing more than knowing glances across crowds or rooms. Lovesick smiles and faint blushes. Maybe a hand brushing against another when you crossed each other. Sometimes, Luke's hand on high up on your thigh underneath the table. But despite this caution you both took very seriously, you had almost gotten caught a few times.

The first time had been entirely Luke's fault. You'd been teaching a new camper, Nate, how to use a spear. You were just as good at Clarisse, if not better, at wielding the weapon, it being your mother's go-to choice. The sun was getting low and painting everything gold, showing just how much time you two had been training for.

"Yeah, that's good. Do it again." You instructed as you walked around Nate in a circle. He was repeating the stabbing and slashing movement, though he seemed a bit distracted as he kept looking past you. You turned around to see Luke leaning against a pillar a few meters away, eyeing you. Your stomach flipped and you beamed, sending a warm wave his way. He returned the smile and the wave.

You turned back to your student, leaning against your spear. You suddenly felt eager to call the training session to an end. "Nate, I think we've done enough for today, yeah? We can continue tomorrow afternoon." "Whatever you say, doll."

Luke watched from his spot as Nate helped you undo your breastplate, his brows raising. Oh. He observed closely when the boy pressed a hand to the small of your back to direct you out of the training ring, lowering his head closer to yours to hear what you were saying. The child of Hermes was positively fuming by the time you both reached him.

You sped up the pace to give him a quick hug of greeting. "Hi, Luke!" you greeted cheerily, wrapping your arms around his neck. "Hey, baby," he spoke into your hair as he returned the embrace tightly. He kept you under his arm even after you pulled away. If you noticed his unusual behaviour, you didn't mention it. "Hey, man." Nate greeted with a grin, his eyes trained on you. Luke set his jaw. "Hey," he spoke icily. You frowned, Luke was never this cold with anyone. You sent him a confused look but he just kept staring at Nate. A short moment of awkward silence passed before Nate inhaled sharply. "Well, I'll be off, then. Y/N, I'll see you at dinner?" he asked, looking expectantly at you. Luke answered before you could. "Probably not, man." "Oh... uh, okay. See you both 'round, then." Nate nodded towards the both of you before walking off, head bowed and hands buried deep inside his pockets.

You pulled away from Luke, looking up into his face with furrowed brows. "What was that?" you asked, your head tilted to the side. "What was what?" Luke shrugged innocently. "That!" You pointed at Nate's retreating form, scoffing. "You're never so blatantly cold! Not to mention rude!" Luke raised an unimpressed eyebrow. "I don't like his vibe." "You-" you let out a disbelieving laugh. "You don't like his vibe? C'mon Luke-" "I didn't like the way he was with you."

"What do you mean? He was-" You were interrupted by Luke. He folded his arms over his chest. "Touching you, unnecessarily. The hand to your back. And he undid your breastplate, Y/N." "So? You do that too... oh." You shut your mouth as you came to the realisation that maybe, just maybe, Nate had been hinting at something other than friendship with you. "Yeah. Oh." Luke scoffed icily. You frowned and touched his arm. "Luke, baby, there's nothing to be upset about. We're just friends." "Yeah, but does he know that? I'm not worried about you, love."

You nodded and passed your arm through his. You started walking back to where you would have dinner. "Look, forget about him, alright? Let's go to dinner, 'm starving." "Yeah, you're right. I'm sorry for acting-" "Jealous?" you interrupted with a small laugh. Luke stopped in his tracks, a dramatic hand splayed over his heart. "Me? Jealous?" he gasped, shock written all over his features. He thought for a second and then shrugged. "Maybe a bit, yeah."

The second time you'd almost gotten caught had been pretty much your fault. Luke had been wounded in capture the flag. It had been nothing too serious, merely a superficial wound, but he'd still been brought into the infirmary. You, having been on the opposite team and at the other end of the forest, were part of the last campers informed.

You'd heard the first three words : "Luke was hurt..." before you'd totally lost it. Cursing loudly, you immediately bolted in the infirmary's direction. You had never run as fast in your life as you did that day. Mere seconds went by before you skidded to a halt right outside the infirmary, where three quarters of the camp was hanging around. You cursed Luke's popularity and the campers' curiosity as you pushed your way through the crowd.

"Excuse me... sorry, sorry... could you move please?" Your patience was wearing very thin by the time you got to the door separating Luke and the rest of the world. Your hand was on the handle, hear hammering inside your eardrums when you were stopped. "He's not taking any visitors at the moment." You recognised the daughter of Apollo but couldn't be bothered for pleasantries. "He'll take me," you replied strongly, twisting the door handle. The girl let out a small huff and placed a hand on your shoulder, keeping you in place. You felt your blood starting to boil. "Look, he just got stabbed, give him a bit of space to breathe, okay?" You harshly pulled her hand off your shoulder and ignored her indignant look. "Honey, I'm going in and you're not going to stop me." You raised yourself to your full height and glowered down at her. It was times like these when you were grateful for your godly parent's mightiness and for your own reputation. She swallowed before shaking her head. "Hey, don't make me call-" "HE'S MY-" you lowered your voice, which had gotten surprisingly loud, and cleared your throat. You felt heat rise to your cheeks. You had almost blown your cover. You recovered. "Step aside," you sneered, "now."

The girl finally seemed to get the message and stepped to the side, lips curled in a grimace. You ignored her and darted inside the room. You saw Luke and gasped, slapping a hand over your mouth. His waist was wrapped in bandages and he looked awfully pale. "Oh my gods, Luke," you cried, feeling your legs get weak at the sight. "It looks worse than it is, I promise, love," he assured. You sat down on the side of his bed, looking him over, subconsciously checking for any more injuries. When you found none, you took his hand in yours and intertwined your fingers.

"Did they take care of it correctly?" "Yes, baby." "They gave you stitches?" "Yeah, four." "And they wrapped it tight enough?" "Yes, baby." "And-" "Baby, look at me." Luke's warm palm pressed against your cheek, guiding your face to look at him. "I'm fine. I'm okay. It was an accident. I'll be okay. It's just another scar."

You inhaled deeply, nodding slowly. You quickly wiped your eyes. You'd been so scared, you had immediately imagined the worst. But he was okay, he was here, with you, alive and well. "I almost hit the girl outside, she didn't want to let me in," you chuckled wetly. Luke cooed and wiped a stray tear away with his thumb. "Baby, don't cry. I'm okay, I promise." He sat up with a wince and pressed a short kiss to your lips. "And I forbid you to get into fights over me." You chuckled dryly. He had no idea. You'd get into fights with literal gods over him without a second thought. "Now," you ran your thumb over his knuckles, "tell me who did this to you."

The third time you almost got caught, well, you actually did get caught. And this time, though Luke would argue the contrary, it was totally, entirely and unarguably his fault. Really.

"Hey." A smile made its way onto your face at the sound of that voice you knew so well. You and some other campers were sitting around a fire, chatting and laughing. You turned around to see Luke and immediately opened your arms to hug him. He chuckled and bent down to hug you. He brushed his lips against your neck as he did so and you shivered. He sat down next to you, your thighs pressing against each other.

"Haven't seen you all day, love." He spoke quietly as he looked down into your eyes. You huffed and ran a heavy hand over your face. Luke tilted his head to the side. "I know," you groaned, "Mr. D has me doing all these stupid chores because I said something about Coke being a poor dietary choice or something. And apparently he took that personally." Luke couldn't help letting a chuckle slip. You gasped.

"Are you laughing at my demise, Castellan?" you asked, feigning an indignant look. He laughed, pressing a hand against your knee. "You have to admit, it's kinda funny." "Me shovelling pegasus poop because I said that edulcorants and aspartame are not good for your health is not funny!" He snorted a cute laugh and you had trouble keeping a straight face. You lightly hit his chest. "Screw you, Castellan."

His hand came up to keep yours pressed against his chest. You could feel his heart beating rapidly. "Yes, please." Your eyes snapped up to his and heat rushed to your cheeks. You rolled your eyes, shoving him back. "Shut up."

A few moments later, Luke and you had bid the other campers good night and started heading for the cabins. It was dark, so you and Luke allowed yourselves to hold hands. "I miss you, y'know," Luke spoke softly. "What d'you mean? You see me every day." You cocked your head to the side, looking up at his moonlit face, his scar being made more apparent by the white light. You thought he looked beautiful. "Yeah, but we don't get many moments to ourselves these days, there's always other people around and... I dunno, I guess I'm kinda tired of the whole 'keeping this a secret thing'..."

"Luke, baby, y'know I would love to not keep it a secret, but-" "Yeah, I know, baby, I'm just being fussy, I'm sorry." He stopped in front of the Athena cabin, turning to stand in front of you. "No, don't apologise, because I'm the one who-" You were interrupted by his lips on yours. Warm, soft and your favourite taste. The rest of the words died on your tongue as you wrapped your arms around his neck, standing on your tiptoes.

Luke pulled you closer by the hips, one of his hands resting on the skin of your waist underneath your shirt. You shivered happily and pressed yourself flush against him. Goosebumps erected everywhere he touched you and when he pulled away to kiss your jaw, your eyes fluttered closed at the pleasure of feeling his lips on your skin. You tangled your hands in his hair, twisting and lightly pulling at the soft strands. You pulled him back up to your lips, desperately wanting to kiss him again. He happily obliged and lightly bit your bottom lip. You couldn't help but let out a moan at the feeling. You felt Luke's grip on you tighten at the sound.

"What the-"

Luke and you froze on the spot at the sound of a voice you both knew too well. Slowly untangling yourselves from one another, you tried to fix your appearance before facing Annabeth with a nervous smile. "We can explain-" "Don't." She stopped you with a raised hand. "I'm just glad y'all finally got it outta your systems before I dropped dead from the mutual desperate pining. Good night."

You let out a small, breathless laugh as she disappeared inside the cabin. Luke ran a hand thought his hair, letting out a slow breath before cupping your cheek and stepping closer to you.

"So, now that that's cleared, where were we?"

#luke castellan #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x y/n #luke castellan x you #percy jackon and the olympians #charlie bushnell #pjo series #pjo

877 notes · View notes

lycheedr3ams · 1 year ago

Text

Taming You

fem!reader x toxic!konig

MDNI | DDDNE

Warnings: konig is misogynist, controlling, possessive, slight yandere, pervert konig, toxic masculinity, marking, dub-con, p in v sex, brief mention of ass-slapping, dark content ahead

DO NOT DO THIS IRL EVER. THIS IS ONLY FOR FANTASY

you had first spoken with konig when he needed your help to fix one of his work tablets. you had seen him around on base before, his eyes always on you as you went past, but neither of you approached the other. it took you a few days to fix his device, and during those days you learned his type - it was you. his recent searches on porn websites that he didn't bother to erase described you a little too closely. and the situations that he looked up with your bodily descriptions, well, they made you feel a little sick.

you handed his tablet back to him with a forced smile. but he was so polite as he thanked you that you began to wonder if you had misread his searches.

"danke, meine Schatz," he said so gently as he took the tablet from your hands slowly as not to startle you. the sweet tone in his voice made you let down your guard for a moment. it reflected so obviously in your eyes, and the way your smile became a little less forced and showed more teeth.

"if you ever have a problem with anyone here, you let me know, ja?" he said gently again, as if he were telling you a bedtime story. you blinked and your smile faltered slightly as you processed his words. this time, your smile attempted to tame the beast. to fawn.

"i haven't had any problems here thankfully, i think everything will be okay," you said with a shaky voice.

konig stared at you for a moment, silent and dark, before his voice adopted that soothing tone that no one else had ever heard from him. "still. you come to me. for anything. ja?"

you just nodded as you smiled. there was no way you would get him off your back by fighting him. not that you could, even if you wanted to, verbally or physically.

...

somewhere along the line, konig had become your boyfriend. you weren't really sure how it happened. he asked you out to dinner a few times, and each time, you said yes. you were too scared to say no. konig was always gentle with you though. he always held the door open for you, tipped the waitress well, didn't get handsy with you too soon.

but you would argue with him sometimes. or rather, you would be put in your place.

"you have quite a mouth, you know?" he said lowly as he looked down at you. you challenged his stare with one of your own, but it began to crack as he began to stand up to his full height. "your past man friends let you talk to them like this?"

you nodded, too scared to speak.

konig shook his head from side to side. "not with me, Schatz." his eyes seemed to go even darker from underneath his hood. "you don't talk to me like that, ever," he growled. he bent his back slightly so that he was now completely leaning over you. "i'll teach you how a woman should talk to her man. i will make you behave."

your breathing was deeper as he emphasized that last word. his demeanor, how he was talking to you, infuriated you. everything in your logical mind told you to get a restraining order from him, to switch jobs, block him, to never see him again. your mind told you he was dangerous. controlling.

but the throbbing in your core and your slick-drenched panties told you something else. you stared up at him through your lashes defiantly, but said nothing.

konig seemed slightly satisfied with that. "see? you can be a good girl. you're not used to being with a man. you've been with boys. i will change that."

...

konig tamed you with his cock. you hated to admit that. you denied it every chance you could.

"all it takes is a hard cock to make you behave," he grunted into your ear as he fucked you with your ass in the air and your face pressed into the mattress. you moaned without abandon, relishing the way he perfectly filled you up with each thrust.

you were always so much more obedient after he fucked you. he wouldn't miss the near hearts in your eyes after each session. how you'd look at him so innocently and sweetly as he stroked your hair.

"you're getting better," he whispered into your hair. "you barely talk back anymore. that's how a woman should be."

you knew the things you "talked back" to konig about would all be evidence for a restraining order from him. how he threatened to keep you locked in his room when he saw a text from a guy on your phone (it was your cousin), how he nearly killed the guy who accidentally bumped into you in the hallway one night, how he'd give you so many dark hickeys that you couldn't possibly hide them for work, how he'd silently dare you to talk back to him when he said something you didn't agree with. but all you did was stare angrily at him, and feel your core throb as he tamed you.

but sex with him wasn't always loving. most of the time, it wasn't. he'd hold you down despite your protests of it being too much, and just slam his cock into you over and over and over again. he'd toss you onto any surface he could before he rushed up behind you and shoved it in. he didn't care who heard, or who saw. everyone needed to know that you were his.

but that was evident enough even without hearing you scream his name almost every night. it was the way he would be right behind you wherever you were when he wasn't on duty. how you could barely use the women's restroom without him growing sour. how he'd stare daggers into any man who even dared to glance at you, or how he'd slap your ass in front of a room full of people just so show off his cute little trophy. the way you yelped each time he did it was just so cute.

he did train you how to be the woman he wanted. an obedient, pliable woman who never protested anything he said, and took his cock gratefully every time he gave it to you.

2K notes · View notes

mcflymemes · 8 months ago

Text

EVERYTHING EVERYWHERE ALL AT ONCE (2022) PROMPTS * assorted dialogue from the film, adjust as necessary

in another life, i would have really liked just doing laundry and taxes with you.

the universe is so much bigger than you realize.

maybe we would have been better off if we had never gotten married.

why are you dressed all stupid?

you're just very bad at explaining.

how did i die?

he who loves the most regrets the most.

why would anybody want to kill me?

it's the way you look at me.

how do you think i feel?

you can either come with me and live up to your ultimate potential, or lie here and live with the consequences.

do you still want to do your party?

you are not unlovable. there is always something to love.

you think i'm weak, don't you?

can we just stop fighting?

you're capable of anything because you're so bad at everything.

i'm tired. i don't want to hurt anymore.

i still want to be here with you. i will always, always want to be here with you.

if nothing matters, then all the pain and guilt you feel for making nothing of your life goes away.

we're all small and stupid.

i wasn't looking for you so i could kill you.

so what? you're just gonna ignore everything else?

i will cherish these few specks of time.

i've been on this earth just as many days as you.

i know better than to ask to help you.

so we'll talk later... like this afternoon?

you look really pretty right now.

you took everything away from me.

we're all useless alone.

i don't know what i'd do without you.

i only made enough food for three people. i'll have to cook more.

i always learn something when i hang out with the elderly. old people are very wise.

everything i do, i try to make things simpler, easier.

maybe you can audition, too.

i don't know how to be any fucking clearer.

i didn't mean that. it was a joke.

the only thing i do know... is that we have to be kind.

i know you see yourself as a fighter.

that's not a very funny joke.

actors are very poor.

it's nice to feel needed.

i was thinking, maybe after this is all done, we can go on a trip.

if i have to think about one more thing today, my head will explode.

you may be in grave danger. there is no time to explain. hold this.

can't you see how wonderful it'll be? we can make our own way.

i'm here because we need your help.

sorry, very busy today. no time to help you.

i have spent years searching for the one who might be able to match this great evil with an even greater good and bring back balance.

i know it's a lot to take in right now.

i can see where this story's going, and it doesn't look good.

you're always trying to confuse us with these words.

i know you. with every passing moment, you fear that you might have missed your chance to make something of your life.

don't let anything distract you from it.

our time here is up. they are going to kill us.

i may be old, but i still know how to negotiate.

#rp meme #mcflymemes #rp memes #rp prompt #roleplay memes #roleplay prompt #rp starters #ask meme #ask memes #roleplay meme #roleplay inbox prompts #rp inbox meme #inbox prompt #inbox meme #sentence starter prompt #sentence starter #sentence starters #everything everywhere all at once

370 notes · View notes

richeeduvie · 2 months ago

Note

hey👋 😊🤗

where’s wedding bells pt.2 😠😾🔫

Wedding Bells (Part Two)

Stewy H. x Reader, Roman R. x Reader (complicated), Kendall R x Reader (minor, minor as in what Baby was when she was groomed by him) here yall go damn!! (jk it's been long overdue after my failures I love u guys)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.

PART ONE (OUT OF FIVE), AUTHOR MASTERLIST After assuring Roman that Stewy being your date was nothing but a platonic necessity for Shiv's wedding, the start of the night has decided on proving you wrong. It's much to your dismay...maybe not so much Stewy's (for the most part), but most certainly Kendall's. Knowing the aspects of the "DogandBone!AU" do help add content to both parts of this story, but you do not need to read anything prior to understand it. If you would like to, you can go onto my masterlist linked and browse through the masterlists/content of my succession characters. All are content for DAB!AU. Or you can simply search up the tag. (Stewy's POV next!)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.

The ceremony was beautiful, vows mandated. Knowing Tom as your technical boss, you're sure he wanted to say something from the heart. Knowing Shiv...Shiv, Shiv, your only girl friend Shiv...you know she wouldn't have that.

Roman took to looking bored next to Tabitha. You caught him making quips to her and you hate to wonder what he was saying, if he'd tell you the same things if you were his date.

Or maybe there's just some different with you that you wouldn't get the default comments out of Roman. Something just for you.

Maybe that's true for the past, before Tabitha and the now. You hate to think that, you think to not be over it already - you were asking Roman the what ifs of finding someone for you and you've got nothing to show for being ready to find that someone. That not-Roman.

Almost. Not really. No, you won't say you do have something to show for you. That something being taking looks at Stewy in the aisles.

Feeling your heart skip when he caught you taking those looks.

You were to not figure what the fuck Stewy was thinking at your stares when you were supposed to be gooey-goo over the new marriage of your friend. You were and are to not think about the way he met your eyes. You were to not notice the way Roman's head quickly, curtly snapped to follow where you were looking.

And now it's time for pictures!

"Has new, tanner dick brought you cause to lie to me?"

Roman kicks the grass, cut and too green underneath the both of you. What he's wearing isn't much different than his suits day to day at Waystar, but he looks nice. You don't know how to feel about how you don't feel the warm roll throughout your body at the sight of him handsome. Like he's not your boyfriend anymore.

He never was, he wasn't ever anything but the only person you've ever been in love with. Felt your loins on fire for, if you want to be gross about it.

You tilt your head.

"What?"

They're flashing pictures of just the bride and groom and it leaves Roman to whine to you on the sidelines. Stewy...in fact him and Kendall are nowhere to be found. You just know it's got something to do with whatever will ruin this family again. It'll be by tonight and forgiven in two weeks. At least the way you've grown into Roman over the years isn't something of a complete waste, you get understand the family you're working for for the rest of fucking time. Life.

Frank waves to you, you wave back.

"Ow! What the fuck?"

Roman's slapped your hand down mid-wave.

"You told me you just needed a date and you were too stupid to go with the obvious three-way Tabitha and I offered. Okay. I accepted that like I wasn't being fucked, but then you're fucking Stewy with your eyes, opening legs with your irises at my sister's wedding. Bridesmaid gangbang."

"...Are the bridesmaids gangbanging Stewy?"

Roman's brows are perpetually down, nose flared. You've shat on the grass, basically. The joke's bombed.

"You. Stewy...and his of color cock and his smarmy eyes. You think you can find out the number to his shaft shade by now? With all the times you've-"

Your eyes dart to where his fist opens and closes, then to where his neck rolls and head jolts. It's like a visual cough.

"Jesus Christ, you know what? Let me just not quip bullshit, I can be serious. I think I deserve that, maybe?" He sniffs.

And there it is...or there it isn't. No automatic, instinctual rush to comfort Roman and hold him or punish his insecurities with teases or insults punchier than his. Nothing.

Because you see Stewy coming up behind him.

You've always noticed he holds himself well, ever since you were younger. But now...no.

But then, you look into Roman's eyes, brown - facing rejection or no-care he's always so sure of. You sigh.

There it is. The rush.

Roman leans into your palm on his bicep.

"I'm going to ask if you've been keeping track of how many times you've ridden him. Or he's ridden you. You've taken to American Paint Horses."

"...When the fuck did you know pony breeds?"

"When you started fucking the brown kind."

Jesus. Roman.

"Roman! Fucking cool it. You're being...like, racist. Cartoonishly racist over something that you've made up in your head."

"It's not racist. Stewy's brown. Shocker. You went from me, not brown, to him. That's a fact. I didn't press negatives onto the color of his cock or our cultural differences in...fetishes."

Roman blinks, he turns to Stewy smiling at you before he's talking to Kendall.

"And did I make it up? Really."

You blink. You sigh.

It just slips out.

"You went from me to Tabitha. Should I whine?"

The words already leave a bad taste in your mouth once they leave it. They're not even particularly jealous-sounding, it's more of a casual tease to bite Roman and his hypocrisy. Still, it reeks on your tongue - it's a gag of admittance and by Roman's smug fucking face, you know he knows it too.

It's a slow growing smugness, too. First it's comprehension of what you said in the first place, then it's realization - life breathed onto his face.

Complete satisfaction.

....She still likes me. Wants me. Fuck it, knew it. Her vagina cares enough to be jealous. Knew it, knew it. Knew it. Thank God, I thought I was fucking done for and ready to be shot out back.

"I'm joking, but it's also a genuine question...because you're doing that over something you're making up in your head, Rom."

Roman puts his hands on his hips, lips pursing out.

"I just question the stares, you baby. That's all I'm doing. It's fair, they were like - fucky eyes."

No.

You don't know what they were.

"No. They weren't. And I-"

"Okay, now the family together!"

You turn to the photographer, Roman doesn't.

"I don't think you get to think over who I stare at, may-"

"Fuck you. Of course I do. I don't deny you from commenting on Tab's love for me as a result of pussy envy. I don't. I won't...and we..."

Roman turns to his family gathering, Shiv's blinking quick at him. It's like she's cursing at him to hurry the fuck up. He turns back.

"We can talk about it. Past the bullshit."

...Really?

"Really?"

The word on your tongue is more sarcastic than it is in your head. And there, in the pause...it's like Roman's pulling back from the openness of himself. Taking what he's put out away.

"Me and Tabitha and you...sure."

"...Mm. Shiv's waiting for you."

"Like, do I have to stop playing bits here and be fun for you to actually still have fun with me-"

"Roman, hurry the fuck up, dude! Seriously."

"Cool it! I don't care that it's your wedding, Shivy Ginge. I'll set fire to your minge."

He taps into his British roots there before he's off. Not before he kisses your knuckles, though.

"I just fucking miss you, weirdo. I want conversations. I just...I don't like...do things in spite - not towards you, even though you're being fucking weird. I don't make wounds and shove my dick into them as a gotcha."

It's said as he moves off. They take photos - the Roys...your Roys. You smile at Kendall when he smiles at you. Your thumb rubs your knuckle, you won't think about his kiss.

"Tabitha, just get it here."

But you don't think anything at all when they let Tabitha into the frame. It's easy for her. Rightfully so, but it's on your skin on a knife and you don't feel that's right.

But you don't feel it go away.

It hits you like the first time you cried as a child. It's a childish hurt and you can't make it go away as you watch the camera flash and Roys and Tabitha smile, as they bring Rava into the picture taking. Rightfully so.

It's a nail in the coffin, the confirmation what Roman has with Tabitha is real.

Your love, it still here thumping at your heart, is not.

Why are you about to cry?

"Hey, you."

You turn to the dark-haired, clean bearded man at your side. His knowing but soft voice.

"Hey, Stewy."

"What's with the glossy eyes?"

The burning is against the sudden, unwanted warmth you feel. You don't want to feel warmth at how Stewy's so close to you. You've been close to him before and nothing - nothing like what you feel with Roman.

But here, everything with what you feel with Roman. Maybe something new, something giddy that differs because Stewy isn't Roman, he's Stewy. He exists differently.

And now Roman exists away from you.

"Weddings, you know?"

Stewy smiles thin, brown eyes light.

"...Yeah. No. But even if it was yeah...I don't think it'd be Mr. and Mrs. Wambsgans getting me leaky. How's your legs from your formal-attire workout."

"...Upright planking?"

"Exactly."

You are sore. "It was a workout. At least I didn't have to listen to DIY vows. That would've been the real challenge."

Stewy leans you. You try not to breathe, you don't know why.

"I don't know, I think it'd be fun to see a Roy attempt romantics in public. Do you remember Ken's wedding with Rava?"

Yes. You won't be mean in your thoughts, genuinely.

"Yeah. The singing during the dinner was cute, I'm glad he chose to put that stunt there instead of the altar."

Stewy puts his hands in his pockets.

"Isn't that fucking right." His voice is warm, almost teasing - well...always teasing, even if the conversation is genuine. You know him well enough to know he's not fucking with you, laughing at you in the bore of small talk. It's just how he talks.

You also know him well enough to know his cologne is wearing off.

"You're not going to join the happy family photoshoot?"

"No. Have no reason to."

You and him haven't been facing each other in your talk, eyes to the Roy family with Tabitha and Rava as the reception beings to bustle inside.

You wonder if Stewy feels the tension too. If you're crazy - if you're childish for thinking he does or if you're both for feeling it yourself in the first place.

"That's a same, you're basically a fifth child. Which makes whatever you had with Roman incested. Which makes it less hot. I know, I'm weird, not...illegally weird, though. For the most part...so, the honorary incest is not hot, now that I think of it."

Stewy takes his hand out of his pocket. You see it out of the corner of your eye and you feel his touch on your back a couple seconds after.

You don't see how he pauses, you couldn't know how he thinks about how this touch is going to feel on his skin.

What the fuck happened, man? What happened that now things are...fucking coiling inside him. Like he's a boy - or no. Gross, cartoonish to describe it like...now it's just different with you. What fucking happened?"

Stewy smiles.

"You're perfume is disappearing on us. I don't want to be sniffing up on your sweat follicles while we're dancing, princess."

You shiver.

Why the fuck are you on fire in the best way possible?

"What a bore, right? Let's get inside."

Shiv fixes the waist of her dress.

"Yeah, honey. Photos are a bore, but important for our memoralization of our love...tonight, right? And I think we're supposed to let everyone go in first before we come crashing as bride and groom."

Photos are done. Everyone separates and even in the fire, you look to see if Roman's watching the flames. And....

Of course he is. But then you realize that you didn't tell Kendall that Stewy's your date. You didn't think you had to, but his eyes catching to where his best friend holds you is where you remember that yeah, Stewy's his best friend. The only reason why you know Stewy is because he's Kendall's best friend that he introduced when you were 14. You'll give him more leeway than you give to Roman. Even though it's still a date you needed, it must be weird for Kendall to see without context.

"I think you looked very beautiful up there."

You turn to Stewy, heart beating quick. Too quick for you to judge yourself for it.

"For Shiv's sake, I won't say you outdid her but...you were the closest bridesmaid to doing the out."

You smile to break away from that tension - between him and between how Kendall's hand drops from Rava's waist, how his eyes blink low from afar.

"You were examining all of us up there to figure that out?"

It's a joke you think warrants another smarmy-charming reply.

But all Stewy does is just hold his head up with something....serious along his face. Nothing under a tease, just eyes not blinking before he looks to the grass.

"No."

You can't stop your smile from falling before the photographer comes up to the both of you.

"Hey, you two want a photo? Cute couple."

"Oh, we're jus-"

"Sure. Have at us."

Stewy says it as charming as he says everything before he pulls you close by the waist.

"Oh, I can smell you better now. Smile, princess."

You do with every roll of fire on your skin. Your stomach turns over.

Maybe it's not childish...it's just new, it's just how you feel. What you hate is that you do, that it's Stewy. You have a right to new people, a new person to feel like this for...but not Stewy.

But it is, for some strange, new reason.

The camera shutters on you and him.

"Can I kiss you? It'll be modest. Cheeky."

It doesn't take you more than two seconds for it to slip out.

"...Sure. Yeah."

"Alright, yeah."

Stewy says it quietly before he kisses your cheek.

Oh, God.

The camera shutter, you might be...shuddering. You smile anyway. The photographer smiles too.

"Alright, make sure to catch the bouquet!"

They walk off and Stewy doesn't let go of you. You realize that he was holding it before the photographer came up for photos.

...Just breathe, just breathe.

And you do, Stewy's face doesn't stop you from breathing, you're able to breathe into it. Because of it - suddenly.

With his smile, with his smile.

...Maybe you'll indulge, maybe you have been indulging.

"I-"

You were going to, just before there's the sound of immense gagging. Vomiting.

"Fuck!"

"Rome?"

"Roman? What the fuck?"

Stewy turns to the commotion, brows rising up.

"Oh...oh. Fuck. That's disgusting."

It's Roman puking chunks onto the grass. Tabitha stands over him, complete ohs and rightful confusion on now knowing what to do. His father, Logan just looks completely disappointed.

Roman's hunches over. He's holding his head in what you know to be complete pain.

What the fuck?

"Roman?"

Of course, he doesn't answer you. You go to go up to him, but there's a hand on yours.

"I think we can go inside. Roman's vomit breath will meet us there, it looks like he's got enough people to check on him and his insides."

"I don't th-"

Even after everything, or because of everything, you still try and go to Roman. But Tabitha's hands rubbing his back stop you.

It takes the breath out of you.

Yeah, it's just...he'll meet you inside. Roman's got comfort, he decided it wouldn't be you and that'll stop hurting.

Roman will stop hurting a lot easier than you, you're sure. It'll be okay, you've got the rest of your life to take his insults of tonight.

"Okay, yeah. Let's go."

You hear the last of the gags as you and Stewy head inside to the start of the reception.

"I think they got my favorite desert, actually. I don't know how. If I'm feeling sultry and you're feeling consensual, I'll fork it into your mouth for you to try."

"...Sounds sultry. Okay"

You neither lean or move away from his hand on the small of your back. You let him pick something out of your hair.

"Roman, what the fuck? You okay, bro?"

"That was...you okay, son?"

You won't catch how Roman can't catch his breath. He can't recover. He can't come up from his knees. He actually lowers.

Tabitha's hands feels like bees, unfuckingfortunately. Roman crawls away and jolts at her palm finding him again.

"Stop! Just- it's fine. Stop. Sorry, sorry, Tab's. Dad, I'm good. I'm-"

He hacks. He can't breathe.

He knows why he can't breathe, but where are you? Where are the hands that actually feel like life digging back into his lungs?

Roman looks up.

What the fuck? What the fuck? What the fuck?

Where are you?

"Roma-"

Whoever's talking to him gets interrupted by more vomiting. He's choking on it.

"Oh fucking Christ. I'm going, I'm going inside, Pinky. Someone get him water. Absolutely disgusting."

He would say he doesn't know what he did, but he does. He just doesn't...but he's sorry.

Where did you go? Why don't you come back?

"Roman, baby-"

"Don't fuckin-I said! I said stop. Sorry, you'll touch me later. I'm sorry."

He really fucking is, but someone else will be. If Roman sees Stewy in there...the bullet in Roman's head will be his to blame. That'll make him feel better.

Roman wipes his mouth, his eyes. He sniffles.

"Are you cry-"

"No! Tabitha, stop! Shiv - go get banged, it's your wedding day."

He can feel eyes. So, he's right. Staring does mean things.

"Fuck off!"

#inbox #hc's #drabble #dog and bone!au #succession fanfiction #roman roy x reader #roman roy fanfic #stewy hosseini #stewy hosseini x reader #succession fic #roman roy x you #succession imagine

127 notes · View notes

justawritterwithideas · 2 years ago

Text

Boy Wonder and the Rockstar | s.r

✩ next part ✩

summary: Spencer and Y/N meet in college after a book search, creating a friendship where opposites attract. But Spencer has to move across the country to pursue his happiness and completely loses contact with Y/N. What if fate decides it's time to meet after 15 years and with a crazy stalker in between? Spencer won't lose to fate again and will do anything in his power to protect Y/N.

warnings: mentions of death, alcohol, drugs, strong vocabulary, as well as talk of heartbreak, disappointment and arguments. It also contains content regarding CM season 13, so it clearly contains spoilers. this is a spencer reid x famous!reader story.

this will be a small series of chapters so here are the general precautions of the series, each chapter will have its own precautions. !!!

words: 3,909 words.

a/n: hey! here alme with a little series i've been planning for a couple of weeks now. as you may know, i've been talking about the spencer reid x famous!reader relationship but as hayley williams, so i decided to set myself the challenge and write a little series called "boy wonder and the rockstar", so i hope you like it. i haven't planned how many chapters it will have yet but i don't want to make it too long, and also patience with each chapter. so, I don't want to make it longer and I'll leave you the first chapter. thank you. ♡

𝟎.𝟏: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐲 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐮𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐠𝐫𝐮𝐦𝐩𝐲.

Spencer always lived under the stigma of being a child genius. His I.Q. was 187, he could read 20,000 words per minute and had an eidetic memory.

Everyone around him told him what to do, from his mother, to his "friends," to his teachers, to his neighbors.

"Hey Spencer, with that brain of yours you could make it in the government" "Spencer you could be part of NASA" "Spencer you could be a mathematical genius like Einstein!" "Spencer you're going to get into the CIA!"

"And where are you going to go to college? Because you know Harvard is already a lock for you" "I bet you'll go to YALE, that's where all the smart ones go" "Princeton is an excellent choice for you!" "MIT could open a lot of doors for you"

Spencer this, Spencer that.

But no one really thought about what Spencer wanted. Maybe he wanted to be a magician and make children happy with his tricks. Maybe he wanted to be a trapeze artist, or a fireman, or an astronaut, or just an ice cream man.

All these expectations of Spencer reached a point where he didn't even know what he wanted in life. He lived under the shadow of the expectations and visions people had placed on him, and he didn't want to let them down. He was just a kid, a kid scared of adult life who had to impose himself because others imposed it on him.

That's how his brain made him skip grades, have to enter high school at age 12, and have to suffer a lot of abuse from the grown-ups for just being a boy genius.

Spencer sometimes wished he could make his brain disappear and have a normal one. Then he could have normal friends, go to a normal school, have a relationship, experience the problems people his age have, and be able to feel the phases of adolescence like any other kid.

But things were not like that.

He had to live the life he had been dealt, with his genius brain and the damn adult problems at 13.

CalTech was a new life he had to accept, but it wasn't as bad as the one he had before. His mind was kept busy for a long period.

He was forced to grow up around books full of equations, chemical elements and mathematical problems, managing at 16 to get his first college degree, which was Mathematics, and the following year to get a PhD in it. But he did not dislike this.

But as they say it is never enough, he kept on studying until he was 21. Thanks to this, he became a doctor of two more degrees, Chemistry and Engineering, in addition to Psychology, Sociology and Criminology.

His social life at the university was not so hectic, in fact, he only stood out for the fact that he was a boy genius, and that was it. To other people, he was a person like any other.

Until one autumn day, in the middle of his 19 years and studying psychology, his paths were interrupted by crossing that of others, and that, probably, is the person who changed his life the last years of college.

It was an ordinary day in the university library. Spencer had been rereading an encyclopedia of human anatomy for two hours. Why you may wonder, well, it was his way of killing time during his free time.

Acquiring knowledge was the best way to keep his brain fed and occupied, according to the boy.

He had eaten his sandwich a couple of minutes ago and let his brain feed on information at that moment, trying to persuade his intrusive thoughts at that minute. Through the pages you could see the muscular system, focusing on the leg and foot areas.

To be honest, it looked quite interesting.

That day, leaves were beginning to fall from the trees, filling the ground with their autumn colors; there was a gentle cool breeze, a strong smell of wet dirt and people were crowded in the warmer areas of the campus. It was no surprise to anyone that the library was one of the most crowded areas, the vast majority of people were gathered around the tables as large college texts lay open on them.

Spencer was sure he had seen more than one student curse at the fact that they couldn't find what they were looking for, and then walk out of the room in exhaustion. It wasn't the first time someone had cursed his name because they found themselves reading the text they were looking for and, besides, they weren't able to approach and ask for it.

He could believe it was cowardly on their part, maybe they were too shy to be able to do it or it was an excuse to put off studying what they were looking for. Even though he considered that the The study methods they had were not very good and, if they started studying earlier, they could increase their grad-

"Excuse me."

A voice interrupted the conversation Spencer was having with himself, pushing away his intrusive thoughts that were beginning to take over his mind. The young man's head turned and he saw a girl, perhaps his age, staring at the encyclopedia in front of him.

"I asked Miss Wellington about the Rouviére and Delmas encyclopedia of human anatomy, and well..." The girl looked over Spencer's shoulder. "She told me that maybe the boy sitting at the back table had it. There are no other tables in the back and you're the only guy sitting here, so I think my deduction is correct and you have it."

"Y-yes, this is the encyclopedia you're looking for." Spencer admitted, looking at the young woman.

More than looking at her, he was admiring her. She was wearing a red skirt and hoodie with some embroidered words on it, her legs were also wearing dark leggings and some rather damaged black converses, over it she was carrying another coat and a backpack; her arms were loaded with medical and anatomy books, plus her hair was disheveled.

"Great! Must be my lucky day that a cute guy has it." Her books fell onto the table and she sat down next to Spencer.

The boy could smell the scent of tobacco and mint mixed with the scent of cherry perfume.

"May I see?" Spencer turned to look at her and, even though he was reading that book first, his head nodded. "Fine! I just want to see..." The sound of the leaves was rapid, as if a fan was moving them. "This... Nervous system."

Suddenly, and as if by magic, a notebook appeared in front of them both and quickly the girl was beginning to write on the blank sheets, even though to Spencer it looked more like a scribble than a resume as such.

"Shit, what is this?" the girl paused to read more closely. "In the central axon, the electrical signal is converted into a chemical signal, and then releases the chemical signal with chemical messengers called neur-neurotransmitters." The sound of the pencil falling on the table made the boy startle.

"Nervous system?"

"That's right, I have a lecture in three days and I'm still trying to associate concepts in the nervous system. Like my nervous system isn't nervous anymore."

Spencer chuckled to himself, the girl had a funny sense of humor.

"In fact, when the brain interprets that we are in danger, it produces a rush of adrenaline that activates the heart and muscles to place them on alert, but if prolonged, it can lead to health problems such as cardiovascular disease like heart attack and is associated with hypertension and arrhythmias and is the enhancer of other cardiovascular risk factors." Spencer turned to look at the girl, who looked quite interested in what he was saying, jotting everything down in her notebook. "But it's not that your nervous system is 'nervous', it's that it interprets that it's in danger and so it sends that kind of stimulus to your body that makes you anxious."

"I see you know about the nervous system, much more than I do." The girl scanned him from head to toe. "Are you a medical student?"

"No, CalTech doesn't have a medical degree, but I am a doctor." The boy admitted.

"How old are you?"

"Nineteen."

"Shit, and you already have a doctorate?"

"Actually I have three."

Silence stretched between the two, caused by the woman's shock.

"Are you some kind of alien or is your brain too big that it stores more information than I can retain?"

"Well, I have an IQ of 187 so I can read 20,000 words per minute, plus I have eidetic memory. But I prefer the concept of being more advanced than others."

The girl stared at him.

But to his surprise, the young woman only let out a giggle.

"You're funny, I like it." No one had ever told Spencer that he was funny. In fact, he thought that adjective didn't directly relate to him. "I'm Y/N, Y/N L/N."

"Spencer...Spencer Reid." Y/N denied.

"No, you're not Spencer."

"Excuse me?"

"You're Dr. Spencer Reid." Spencer smiled, she was right. "Well, it's nice to meet you, dr. Reid."

"Nice to meet you, Miss L/N." They both smiled.

"Well, now that I know your name, dr. Reid, we can start our friendship."

Spencer never thought making friends was so easy, even though he knew it was because the girl had gone to the trouble of calling herself his "friend," without even knowing him.

But that didn't bother him, in fact, he found it nice that someone had decided to be his friend.

Overnight, Spencer's evenings began to become more colorful, smelling of tobacco and mint, and filled with questions from Y/N, his new friend.

Although, at first, Spencer didn't seem comfortable around the girl, he quickly got used to it. He had learned several things about Y/N over the days, such as that she was a medical student at Pasadena City College, a college a couple of blocks from CalTech; she was the youngest in the family and had an older brother who had been diagnosed with leukemia a couple of years ago.

He had also learned that she was very into fashion, lived in an apartment complex nearby, smoked a couple of years ago, and only liked menthol tobacco cigarettes. Her favorite color was orange, but she didn't think it looked good on her, and she didn't see herself going to medical school, but she wanted to be a singer.

The first time Spencer heard Y/N sing was during a kermes in Pasadena City, she had been invited to sing on behalf of the medical school. Spencer never liked the idea of being around so many people, let alone at a kermes which was as unsanitary as possible, but his new "best friend" had begged him to go.

He couldn't say no.

He remembered perfectly how her hands shook with nerves, how she bit her lip as she cleared her throat and watched her bandmates, aka Y/N's other friends, rehearse with their instruments.

He knew she had practiced for this moment a bunch of times, had more than once arrived at Spencer's dorm wet from head to toe from running in the rain after a rehearsal, and hummed the songs under her breath every time they studied together in the library.

She was more than ready, but her own fears sometimes made her afraid of her talent.

Reid's eyes were on her, smiling confidently to convey that feeling as a guitar began to play the first chords, and announced the start of her performance.

Spencer didn't know what song it was, he wasn't even sure if the song was to his taste, but when he heard Y/N's voice he knew it had become his favorite song.

“Her name is Noelle

I have a dream about her, she rings my bell

I got gym class in half an hour

And, oh, how she rocks

In Keds and tube socks

But she doesn't know who I am

And she doesn't give a damn about me”

Their gaze was on each other, as if they were the only ones in that large space. The few times the eye contact was broken was when Y/N closed her eyes.

The song ended successfully and an avalanche of applause greeted Y/N, who thanked the audience for their attention. Soon another band filled the stage and for a few seconds, Spencer lost sight of Y/N. He wanted to tell her how great she had turned out, how all her effort and practice had made everything come out perfectly and that she looked like a total rockstar on stage.

"Spence! How was it, did you like it?" Y/N hugged the boy's arm, who turned to look at her with a sweet smile on his face.

"It was amazing, Y/N. Everyone loved it." Affirmed the boy.

"I was so nervous, I was so afraid it wouldn't go well, but I saw you there, and I felt like I could do it. You're my lucky charm, Spencie."

Spencer felt something jump in his chest.

"Let's get something to eat, I'm dying for some corn-dogs." Said the opposite.

"Y-yeah, let's get something to eat, my treat."

The day Spencer was accepted into the FBI academy was probably the most bittersweet day of his entire life.

At 22 years old, and in the middle of finishing his college semester for what felt like the fifth time, a letter arrived in his dorm room.

A letter of acceptance.

He could feel that all his hard work had been rewarded by whoever was up there. He quickly put on his sneakers and ran a marathon to the medical building at Pasadena City College.

His best friend's short red hair he could quickly visualize as he saw her smoking by the entrance, she seemed to be listening to something on her MP4 and bobbing her head to the beat of-who-knows-what song.

"Y/N! Y/N!" Spencer's voice sounded agitated, trying to get her best friend's attention.

The, now, redhead removed her earpiece and turned to see the tall boy running towards her.

"Spence?" From her mouth came the tobacco smoke, causing her to let the cigarette burn between her fingers.

"I made it, I got into the academy!"

The two big hazel eyes made contact with those of the girl, who dropped the cigarette to the sidewalk and hugged her friend tightly.

"I can't believe it, Spence! You did it! You did it! My goodness, I couldn't be prouder!" The younger girl began to do some jumping jacks as she didn't let go of her grip on his embrace.

"Thank you, Y/N. I couldn't have done it without you, you were the one who stuck with me through this whole process."

"You don't have to thank me, dorkie. I knew you'd make it, they couldn't leave out a genius like you." Soon they both disengaged from the embrace and the girl looked at the boy's face. "W-where is the academy? Tell me."

"I don't know, I-I didn't fully read the letter." He admitted embarrassed.

"Then read it! Go on." The girl took him by the arm and forced him to sit down on the faculty stairs.

Slowly, Spencer began to read the letter while Y/N listened intently to every word.

"The course begins on September 23rd of the current year in..." A pause.

Y/N looked at Spencer, who had stopped reading the letter.

"Where, Spence, what does it say?"

"The course begins September 23rd of the current year in Quantico, Virginia."

Y/N felt like a bucket of cold water had just been dropped on her.

Quantico? That was on the other side of the country!

"Q-quantico? Spence, that's on the other side of the-"

"Country, I know Y/N. I-I... I can't do it, I can't."

"What the fuck are you talking about!" The girl stood up startled, looking accusingly at her best friend. "No, I refuse. You have to do it, it's your dream, Spence! What you've always wanted for the last three years that I've known you, I refuse to let you back down now, I won't allow it!"

Spencer looked up from the letter, watching Y/N who was looking at him with her face burning with anger.

"You know I can't do that, what's going to happen to my mom? You know what's going on with her and her schizophrenia, I can't leave her alone."

"She would want you to go, Spence. Her happiness is where yours is, you know she'll be able to do it, there are plenty of options to help her." A long silence settled between the two of them.

Spencer didn't want to leave California, he didn't want to leave his mother or Y/N, he couldn't.

"Spencer Reid, I know what you're thinking right now, but I won't let you let this opportunity pass you by. You have dreamed of this exact moment for years, for as long as I have known you you have always wanted to go to the academy and you have done everything in your power to do so. Now they are offering it to you on a silver platter, you have to do it, there is nothing more you can do here in California. You've already studied all the existing careers in the world, you've already done what anyone in 50 years would have done and at your short 22 years you're already a doctor of three careers." The girl settled back down beside him, letting her icy hand wrap around Spencer's warm one. "You can't just limit yourself to staying here just because you have an engagement, the world has to know who Dr. Spencer Reid is like I know him, you have to go."

Spencer drew an elongated smile, feeling his body fill with that feeling of sadness that pervaded him from head to toe.

The redhead's words were true, it was his dream. But he didn't want to leave the only thing that made him happy on the other side of the country, he would love to carry it in his pocket to Virginia and have his dose of serotonin after each day.

He didn't want to stop smelling her tobacco and minty breath, the cherry smell coming off her clothes and the blueberry smell coming off her hair. He wanted to keep seeing the reddish locks of hair on his clothes and the cheesy paper notes in his pockets every time they met. He wanted to keep listening to the music on Y/N's MP4 every time he went to her apartment and drink coffee with lots of sugar that she made for him, keep hearing her voice in the shower and get biology questions at three in the morning every time she had a test.

He wanted to go to thrift stores to try on printed T-shirts and watch Y/N's camera fill up with pictures of the two of them, keep going to her shows with her band and eat frozen pizza after every gig.

He wanted to keep being with her.

But if she was letting him go, then he had to let her go too.

"I think I can go on living without hearing your bad jokes." Spencer's words lifted Y/N's spirits, who gave him a playful smile.

"Hey! My jokes are the best, last time you laughed for two hours."

"Because it was stupid."

They both laughed, letting the tension of the moment go with the last echo of their laughter.

"So you'll go across the country to make me proud?"

"Yes, I'll go make you proud."

Y/N's arms wrapped around Spencer's body, resting her head in the space of his shoulder and chin.

"I'm glad you didn't make a dumb decision."

Staying here with you isn't a dumb decision, Spencer thought.

They both pulled apart.

"Well, screw the skeleton. Let's go to the library and write your answer."

The girl's small hand imprisoned the boy's large hand, guiding him to the library to write what would be Spencer's fate.

The flight from California to Washington was five hours.

Five hours where Spencer and Y/N would be separated, and they would have to accept that fate had something different in store for the two of them.

Despite California being a sunny paradise, that day he wanted to keep the two friends company as they said goodbye at the airport.

"You already know my number, you know you can call me whenever you want." Commented the girl, who was in charge of carrying the book she had given him to read during the trip.

"I'm not such a fan of technology, you know that."

"There are pay phones over there too, Spence. It only costs a couple of cents to call me, plus they must have landlines there, and you have my email." The girl stopped in front of the door that separated goodbyes with new beginnings. "And if not, you can send me a letter. You know my address."

"A letter doesn't sound bad at all, in fact, for centuries, it was one of the most widely used means of communication by human civilizations since man began to write and whose importance transcended nations. The oldest courier service ever found was in Egypt in 2400 B.C. and in 1840, Sir Rowland Hill created the first postage stamp, which was called Penny Black, which was a profile drawing of Queen Victoria of England that had the rate 'One Penny' written on it."

"Oh Spence, I'm going to miss your fun facts about absurdly boring things." Commented the girl before she could hug him.

Spencer felt his heart clench.

"I'll miss you listening to me." They both turned in an embrace so tight it could take all the oxygen out of their bodies.

Neither wanted to be the first to say goodbye, neither was ready to leave the other. Their hearts were bound together like puzzle pieces, and just as when you lose one, the puzzle will no longer be complete.

"Now, you must go, your flight is about to leave." Y/N commented, separating from the young man as she wiped away the small tear that escaped from her eyes. "Miss me a lot, huh? And show off how pretty your best friend is."

"Always. Remember that wherever you are, whatever you do or whoever you're with, you'll always be in my heart."

A pout settled in Y/N's mouth, who felt like she was letting a part of her go with Spencer.

"Don't forget about me, because I will never forget about you." Demanded the girl, who was pushing the boy to go for his flight.

"It's impossible for me to forget you, I have an eidetic memory." He said laughing, waving goodbye as he received the book the girl handed him.

The two met in a final embrace, where Spencer could smell the girl's cherry and menthol tobacco scent for the last time.

"Write me!" Y/N vociferated, waving goodbye to the boy who nodded and disappeared behind the airport doors.

Y/N and Spencer didn't know that at that moment fate would place them on trial, causing their paths to diverge for many years until, magically, they would come together again.

“When two souls are meant to meet, fate brings worlds closer, erases distances, joins paths and defies the impossible.” Anonymous.

If you like it, don't forget to like and repost it.

a lot of love, alme. ❀

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x you #spencerreid #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid x famous!reader #criminal minds fanfiction #it's my first series #almeseries

2K notes · View notes

boizandgurlzinthehouse · 2 years ago

Text

𝐌𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐁*𝐓𝐂𝐇 (𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐄𝐑𝐀)

; 𝐆𝐔𝐍-𝐖𝐎𝐎 𝐗 𝐅𝐄𝐌!𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐈. 𝐍�� 𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐖𝐒, 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐒.

summary: killing kim myeong-gil would bring many people satisfaction. as hyeon-ju, gun-woo, woo-jin and the others begin to plan on how to do it, choi knows that there's someone in seoul who would take part in it with much pleasure.

wordcount: 3.348k (i got a little bit excited, the other chapters gonna be shorter don't worry)

tw: swearing, almost-fighting, so just plain bloodhounds-things (i update this section with every new part of the story)

author's note: i watched the k-drama in one day, it's wonderful. a little explaining for the "y/h/c", i wrote it with creme-blonde haired character so i'd recommend some extreme or light color. other than that, it's free for every hair color!!

in the burger shop, the pregnant silence after gun-woo's confession about the loan and his mother's café shop was broken by the arrived burgers, brought by woo-jin. hyeon-ju's face became hard again.

"as you heard, my grandpa is no longer a loan-shark. he provides zero-interest loans to people in need. but we occasionally come across punks who try to take advantage of his good heart. yang jae-myeong was one of them. he lied about his mother needing to get an operation. he borrowed ten million won and vanished. it took me half a year to track him down. i saw him begging in front of a train station. at first, I thought he had really become homeless, but i noticed how clean his teeth were as I was passing by. so i tailed him, I found out that he and his goons were pretending to be homeless and stealing IDs from actual homeless people. they use the IDs to create shell corporations and open bank accounts. then they con loan sharks and take out loans anywhere from tens to hundreds of millions of won. this tactic was so professional, we thought there could be someone behind yang jae-myeong. i heard that this person had connections to yang jae-myeong. do you know him?"

after the photo was shown, they talked about how to follow yang jam-myeong's gang, but before the trio stood up from the table, hyeon-ju nodded to the guys to stay sit. digging into her jacket's pocket, she took out a piece of paper that seemed to be like a photo.

"before you begin stalking the gang, i want you to find this girl. i didn't have the time to talk to her, since i was searching for yang jae-myeong, but now i want you two to talk to this girl. gun-woo, tell her about the loans your mom signed and what happened after. she's hard-headed and kind of keeping to herself."

"fine, but who's she?" woo-jin asked, as gun-woo looked at the picture. long y/h/c hair, the mask was on her face, but she had wide, clear speaking eyes. ones like woo-jin's, the ones you look in and can read from them without a loud word.

"she's y/n. i heard my grandpa talk about him on the phone, this was the only picture i could get about her. she doesn't have instagram, facebook or any of these apps, i took this from my grandpa's office. it's possible that she won't open up to you, but it's a must to talk to her."

"yeah, i get it. but why do you want us to find her?" gun-woo was also interested about this question. was she an enemy? young kids can also be stolen by criminals and raised by them, to be as loyal as a dog can to do anything for theirs.

"y/n is good, don't worry. as far as i know from what my grandpa said on the phone, she is someone whose parents were close to my grandpa. she followed her father's track and trained herself in the most brutalist martial arts, like the israelite krav maga, the russian systema or muay thai."

"aisssh, i wouldn't want to confront her in any way", woo-jin said. gun-woo thought about these fights; he only saw muay thai on tv, and that seemed really dangerous in itself. he knew that as soon as they begin to track the girl, he's gonna search up the other two martial arts on his phone.

"yeah, me neither" gun-woo added.

"will you two do? and asking for her phone number?" hyeon-ju asked, the guys nodded.

"yes, of course. but i'll bring a white flag just in case", woo-jin answered as they stood up from the table.

a few hours later, gun-woo and woo-jin were on the streets, wandering around buildings.

"fuck, how can we find someone in a town where nearly ten million people lives?" woo-jin asked. gun-woo looked at the picture.

“hyeon-ju said that she’s a pro in martial arts. maybe we should look in the gyms?”

woo-jin patted his chest, “look, a real genius here.”

going to every gym around the town, gun-woo and woo-jin began to lose hope.

“maybe she’s working today or just doesn't feel like coming down to train.” gun-woo began to think about what to tell hyeon-ju if they don’t find the girl. she sure will be pissed or angry, but this is a really difficult task.

“aish, gun-woo, don’t be like that! would you say something like this? people like us, people who train daily, their safe place is the gym. feeling sad? go to the gym! feeling happy? go to the gym! did your date went well? go to the gym! you just broke up with your girlfriend? go to the gym! look, for every problem, there’s a solution, and the solution is called–”

as woo-jin talked and talked, gun-woo thought he’s hallucinating. on the other side of the crosswalk, a girl tapped on her phone. same (y/h/c) hair, same (e/c) eyes, the same way she dipped her shoulder as she looked behind her, even the black sweater was the same. she wasn’t tall, the arms of her sweater weren't puffed from muscles. maybe she isn’t y/n, but they can try.

“woo-jin, look. do you think that is her? y/n?” he asked, cutting off his friend. woo-jin looked at the picture, than at the girl, than at the picture again, and the girl again.

“honestly, how could we know if we don’t ask her?” woo-jin smiled, just as he always does when he’s in some doubtful situation. they began to walk behind the girl. she wore earphones. woo-jin went to tap her shoulder, but when he touched her shoulder, the girl turned around, grabbing woo-jin’s wrist to keep him still so she could punch him in the face, gun-woo hurried to stand beside woo-jin. the girl took out the earphones with her free hand.

“what the fuck do you want from me?” she asked, looking up from under her eyebrows, looking from one second to another at each of them, like she waited for some attack. she really was a pro, gun-woo said to himself. gun-woo had to admit that she was quite pretty. not like pretty girls from clubs or his high school and university, or the nurses at the marine, but some pretty girl that his mother would like to date him. he bent deep down.

“we are sorry to disturb you, but we have a question. we don’t mean harm, we don’t intend to hurt you” he said fast, and the girl let go woo-jin after looking at the guy, and making sure he nodded. the girl turned, pointing to one of the restaurants.

“can we talk while i eat? i just came out from training, i’m starving.” woo-jin and gun-woo nodded, following the girl.

“so, what did you want to ask?” the girl began eating. woo-jin looked at gun-woo, who watched her dainty fingers grabbing the utensils. he sighed and took out the photo, placing it down to the table so the girl could see, she stopped eating instantly. pulling up her eyebrows, she distanced from the table a little bit. before any of the guys could talk, the girl began to speak fast and stark. “are you from the police? the secret service or some fucking spy-bullshit? what the fuck do you want from me? it doesn’t matter, i shouldn't talk to any of you, i’m not gonna do this shit. how did you get this photo of me?” gun-woo wanted to talk, but the anger in her eyes made his mouth shut. “doesn't matter, i hope i'll never see you again.” she began to pick up her things. gun-woo thought about hyeon-ju, sir choi, her mother, and the ugliest guy that beat him up that night in the coffee shop.

“we just want to ask you about your name,” he spoke clear. “we’re just curious if you’re y/n or not. anyway, my name is gun-woo, and he’s woo-jin.”

“yeah, why? you probably know this because you have every information about me.” she replied, her chest rising and falling a little bit faster than usual.

“no, we don’t. we… so, well… we know a man who’s name is sir choi. and her granddaughter… her granddaughter told us to meet you.”

y/n looked around herself, like checking if someone else was there as a spy or some third wheeler, but when everybody was lazily chomping down on their dinner, being on their phone with some boring video or tweet, she slowly sat back down. sir choi’s name moved something in her, because she leaned closer to the guys.

“if that’s what about i think it is about, then this is some serious shit. really, maybe the most serious shit in seoul’s money and business history, so if you truly mean sir choi’s name, than i really recommend you two to turn around and walk away from all of this. understood?” gun-woo sighed.

“i think that i’m deeper in this than i wanted to”, he replied, the girl looked at him from under her lashes.

“what do you mean? is this about loans?” gun-woo nodded, the girl looked up to the ceiling, sighing, letting out a long whisper of swearings. “then we aren't talking about the price of my dinner, aren't we?”

“we don't talk about money, we talk about catching the men who are behind this.” woo-jin continued, y/n looked up at him, smiling sadly.

“i hope that you are alright in the head, so you can understand that this is nearly impossible.”

“it is not, believe us. we gonna find a man who’s in contact with them.” y/n sighed, looked to the side, looking at her phone.

“how can i trust you two? really, anyone can talk to me about this, anyone who took loans from the old man.” “we found this photo of you in sir choi’s office.”

“you two? how did you get into sir choi’s office? not even his closest people could get there.” gun-woo looked at woo-jin, sighing.

“well, not us, but his granddaughter. her name is hyeon-ju, we are her so-called bodyguards.”

“i don’t know anyone who’s name is hyeon-ju. so, summing up, not sir choi, but his granddaughter wants to talk to me? why?”

woo-jin looked at gun-woo. “can we talk a little bit?”

“sure.” y/n responded, turning back to her food. woo-jin gulped.

“should we tell her about the plan? yang jae-myeong? but what if hyeon-ju wants to tell her this?”

“i think she would understand it better if we told her. she doesn't know who we are, and sir choi’s name means something to her, but in this case, sir choi doesn't know about our mission.” woo-jin shrugged his shoulder, turning back to y/n.

“it’s about catching a man who’s in connection with the loan-sharks, and the one smile capital. since hyeon-ju told us to find you, we think that you’d be interested to catch these guys.”

“this is real, they have some repayments for me.” gun-woo somehow knew that this wasn't about money, but how could he ask when they knew each other for two hours?

“so, are you in it, or not?” woo-jin leaned forward, offering his hand for a handshake. y/n pointed up her forefinger.

“one talk. only one session with hyeon-ju, and then i decide whether i'm in or not.” she stated, woo-jin and gun-woo nodded, while they smiled lightly. looking at each other, they shared the ‘we made it’-look, making the girl scrunch her eyebrows. “okay then, where and when should we meet tomorrow? i guess this can't wait, if that’s so important that you found me.” y/n brushed her hair behind her ear, gun-woo didn’t miss the tattoos on her fingers, and the

“maybe… tomorrow at noon? here, in front of this restaurant.” gun-woo offered, the girl nodded.

“deal. see you guys tomorrow!” she said as she stood up, gun-woo stood up too. he didn't know why, he just felt that he needed to accompany the girl, no matter where she went home.

“wait, y/n!” the girl turned around, woo-jin looked at him like he had some shock or something. “where… where do you go home?”

‘to yongsan, and you?” she asked, gun-woo’s eyes lighted up.

“me too. would you mind if i… so, maybe we can go home together?” he asked, hoping that the girl wouldn't mind.

“yes, we can. goodbye, woo-jin!” she answered easily, bidding goodbye to the guy beside gun-woo. after she went out of the door, woo-jin began to lap gun-woo’s back.

“aye, gun-woo! did little y/n just trickle some love into your heart?” he asked grinning, gun-woo shook his head.

“no, it’s just… what if she gets into trouble at night? it’s dangerous.” gun-woo answered innocently, making woo-jin do a little ‘tsk’ in the corner of his mouth.

“by her grabbing on my wrist before he almost punched me to death, the one who needs protection is me!” woo-jin dramatized the situation, pointing at his wrist.

“she didn’t do anything, and she won’t again. she seems… peaceful.”

“yeah, well, stopped beating me because she found his prince.” woo-jin continued the teasing by adding some eyelash flutter that girls do when they find someone really handsome, making gun-woo roll his eyes. “okay, well, just go. and tell me everything when you get home. or… if you haul up at hers. or i hope that your house has thick walls and your mother doesn’t mind the constant whining noise!” he giggled, having fun. he could tease his friend forever, now that this girl was in the picture.

“woo-jin-ah! don’t do this!” gun-woo replied, making woo-jin laugh.

“okay, okay! have fun, and bring her too! don’t forget to ask for her phone number!”

“goodnight, woo-jin.”

stepping out into the chilly night air, y/n waited for him. they began to walk to the bus station. gun-wo thought about what he should ask from her. family? no, that's too personal, and they just met today. he wasn’t good with girl stuff, only had one girlfriend and she dumped him after two months, when he applied to the marine.

“so, since when do you box?” she asked, making gun-woo looking at her wondering.

“how… how did you know that i box?” y/n snapped with her tongue, looking at him. she had pretty eyes, and although her mask was on, she seemed like this was the easiest question in her entire life.

“when your friend grabbed my shoulder, his grip was firm, his palms are not too big, but they are strong. he lifted his other arm, just in case he needed to protect himself. i think i even saw your friend on the tv. you two are muscular, it can be seen from under jackets, but your legs’ aren't as muscular as your torso. in other martial arts, you need to train your legs too, to kick as strong as you can, but in boxing, you only use your arms. oh, and bodyguards are most of the time professional agents, but you two are young. or am i wrong?”

gun-woo didn’t know how to respond, he wanted to tell her how cool it was to deduce what they did, just from looking at them.

“no, you are right. and… hyeon-ju told us that you are a pro in many martial arts, so… since when do you train?”

“since my childhood. it’s not that difficult, many movements and styles are similar.”

“did you fight competitively? like, in championships?”

y/n shook her head.

“no. only in gyms, i don’t like championships. you can get burned out easily. but i guess, since you asked that, you do championships. what is it like?”

gun-woo smiled under his mask. y/n was really cute as she asked about him. otherwise, maybe he could never tell her these things. he wasn’t a man of words, and only a few times he knew what to say.

“you would like it, really much. before covid, the arenas were filled with people, and the energies, the mood was really high and good.”

y/n hummed as they got on the bus, sitting beside each other. gun-woo protested that he should sit on the outer seat, and as y/n didn’t sense any dangers from him, she accepted and sat down.

“i hope that this hyeon-ju girl is cool, because i had some cat fights with others in the last weeks. girl fight in the gyms, you know.”

“cat fights? with girls?”

“yeah, but it wasn't so serious, i wondered where all the girls were, who'd ripped each other apart. a year ago, those fights were brutallic, like some freaking mma-cage fight, and now… at there, we say about these lazy gym-championships that there were no claws, but only strokes.”

gun-woo snickered.

“and these gym fights, do they pay well? or… do you work somewhere?”

the girl looked at him, scanning him from bottom to top while leaning to the glass window, leaning on her elbow, tilting her head. “you don’t look like a drinker, so i don’t think we would meet at my workplace.”

“you're a bartender? woo-jin would like this! he likes to drink, sometimes, always saying how good he can bear alcohol.”

y/n laughed.

“yeah, he looks like the typical tough guy who grew up on the bad side of the river, but when the two of you constantly looked at each other, i knew that he’s just as rookie as you.”

“yeah, that’s right. we began to work recently at sir choi, we are his granddaughter’s, hyeonju’s bodyguards. but she said she don’t need bodyguards.”

“but if she doesn’t need you, then how did you stay?”

gun-woo sighed.

“i… i begged for her to stay. i have a debt to work off to sir choi.”

“oh, so you work down the loan sir choi gave you, and this is the way you are affected personally by these loans?”

gun-woo thought about that night. when in-beom beat him up, when the boss threatened him not to call the police because his mother would end up dead, when he felt like he can’t do anything. looking at y/n, he didn’t want this girl to get involved in this business. gulping, gun-woo nodded.

“yeah. my mother too.”

“you work for your mother and her protection? you take life danger upon yourself so that she doesn't get hurt?” y/n asked, pulling together her eyebrows.

“we could say so.”

y/n sighed, looking forward, leaning back on the seat. looking at her hands, picking at the tattoos she had on her fingers. after a few seconds, she bent closer to gun-woo. she had dauntlessness and bravery in her eyes, without a blink of her eyelashes. her lashes were longer than usual, giving her the attitude on the outside as on the inside. pressing the get-off button of the bus, she gathered her bag in her lap.

“i understand it now. in this case, count me in, too.”

gun-woo looked at her.

“why? you doesn’t even know what is this about, this is serious danger, y/n.”

y/n shrugged her shoulders as gun-woo let her out from her seat, as they stood, y/n gave her a piece of paper.

“because it’s personal for me, too. see you tomorrow, gun-woo.”

gun-woo bent deep down as the bus stopped.

“thanks, y/n, for talking to us, and not beating up woo-jin.”

y/n giggled, and bent slightly down too.

“thank you for giving me an opportunity.”

as she got off, gun-woo sat back, folding out the paper. it was her number, they didn’t even ask for her number and she gave it to him! on the paper, there was a little message too.

show this to hyeon-ju. you guys forget everything. make sure she notes my number. and don’t worry, we are going to figure this out, one way… or another. y/n.

𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐔𝐄𝐃.

author's note: i hope you liked the first chapter. sorry for my english, it's not my first language, and i just got back to writing after a looong break. leave a like or comment if you liked it!! by babes

ask for taglist in comment or here

#bloodhounds #gun woo x reader #woo jin x reader #netflix korea #kdrama #bloodhounds x reader #bloodhounds imagines #gun woo imagines #bloodhounds netflix #bloodhounds kdrama

747 notes · View notes

drdemonprince · 4 months ago

Note

Hi Devon! I read your work published on substack on autism and asexuality (really great stuff!) and then found your Tumblr and came across your own experiences navigating sexuality and kink, and they made me wonder if you have any advice for a fellow asexual on the spectrum who struggles socially but is interested in experimenting with sex/kink for the first time? People usually find sexual partners on dating apps or at the club but that seems so daunting I've been entertaining this fantasy of finding a community of people with a virgin fetish just so I don't have download tinder

Abandon your fantasy that anything fulfilling will occur without a massive amount of work. Running one's own sexual life requires a high caliber of communication, negotiation, and self-promotion skills, as well as a significant amount of time and experience. If this is worth it for you, venture forth! If not, maybe now is not the right time.

I will have a much more in depth guide on cruising written sometime soonish, but in the meantime I do have some tips.

Do not use fucking Tinder. That is an incredibly vanilla, heteronormative site. You might have a negative impression of your chances finding what you want because you've only had a glimpse of the most normie places and your friends' experiences with them. To find the kinky, experimental kind of sex you want, you'll instead have to educate yourself, and go looking for the freaks.

Fetlife is a good place to start. It will be overwhelming to navigate at first, but keep pressing. Fill out your profile with your interests, take a few sexy photos (whatever that means for you), and join local groups. Follow people who post things you find interesting, read lots of posts. Pick up some books on leather and kink history, and study up. Jack Rinella is a favorite of mine, but I am deliberately keeping my recommendation list lean so that you will dig for what you are interested in, yourself.

Look up local groups interested in rubber, leather, kink, etc, find local dungeons, attend local munch events (these are low-pressure social hangouts with no kinky play, but for kinksters to meet eachother), and find out where the gay bars are in your area that have backrooms in them, as well as cruising spots. Check out spaces where people do kinky or sexual stuff together and just watch.

After considerable information gathering and self-searching, put yourself out there and take agency over your own sexual life. Message people you find interesting, and I do mean just interesting. Learn from other bottoms if you're a bottom. Trade stories with other subs if you're a sub. Learn techniques from other Doms if you're a Dom, or some combination of all these things if you're verse or switchy. If someone shares some interests with you and seems compatible, make a specific suggestion for play, like: Want to meet up and practice our rope tying? or Would you like to practice your spanking technique on me? or I don't like having sex, but I'd love to use you as my personal footstool.

Remember that you get to set the terms for the engagement, and the other person does as well. If they reject you, that means consent has successfully happened, everybody gets a pat on the back, good job. The same goes for you. If all you want is to drag a human puppy around on a leash, don't settle for someone who keeps pressuring you for sex. Just end the interaction. There are a whole lot of freaks out there with a whole array of interests, and most people who are kinky eventually learn to be gracious and work with what a prospective partner is into, but we also all have our dealbreakers. That's fine. You don't want to play football with someone who insists on tackle when all you want is touch. It's the same thing. This is just silly pretend games. So find someone who wants to play a game you want to play.

And yeah, you can expect it to take about two years to really find your footing in this world and really know what you want and how to articulate it successfully, at least. That doesn't mean you won't have enjoyable (or at least interesting, informative) experiences along the way. But it is a lot of work. I find it is better to lead off with realistic expectations because many people rush out hoping that someone will just magically appear who will fulfill all their desires, and that's not how the world works. Every person that you speak to in a kinky context is a full human being with their own anxieties, sexual traumas, shame, areas where they lack experience, and desires that might strike them as impossible to realize.

In kink, you have to learn to navigate really complicated interactions with each one of them as its own independent thing. A lot of us make the mistake early on of thinking everyone else out there is a more seasoned, confident, sexually voracious being than we are, and that all we have to do is find the right person to give us a good time. But with our actions and negotiations WE make it a good time, us and our partner of the moment, together.

If you don't put the work in, you get nothing out. But the more you reveal of yourself and stay present in the interaction and honor it as the specific, unique thing that it is, the more benefits you reap -- not just sex or kinky play, but friendships, community ties, self-knowledge, and social skills.

Have fun out there! I hope you learn a lot.

141 notes · View notes

amethystarachnid · 2 months ago

Text

SOULMATE BOND

⤷ ANTHONY “TONY” E. STARK

ᯓ★ Pairing: Anthony “Tony” E. Stark x fem!reader

ᯓ★ Genre: romance, fluff

ᯓ★ Request from: MARVEL bingo

ᯓ★ Story type: one shot

ᯓ★ Word count: 4.5k

ᯓ★ TW(s): stupid rumors go around because Tony is famous, not really anything serious

ᯓ★ Timeline: before the Avengers were formed

ᯓ★ Request: This bingo is absolutely adorable, can you write Soulmates + Tony Stark/fem!reader, please? ❤️ ( @ccbsrmsf1 )

ᯓ★ Comment if you want to be added to the taglist (specify if you want the everything taglist or for a specific character)

ᯓ★ Songs & Superheroes tales - The Game (to make a request, follow the rules on the link!)

ᯓ★ My Masterlist

ᯓ★ MARVEL Bingo (requests open)

ᯓ★ English isn’t my first language

In this world, the soulmate bond manifests in the form of tattoos, inscribed on skin at the moment when you first meet your destined person. Not just any tattoo—it's the first thought they had when they saw you. A sentence or a phrase etched in permanent ink, completely out of your control, tied to the moment your eyes meet.

You've always found the idea romantic in theory, but after your mark appeared, you're a little less enthused. The thought branded on your wrist is definitely not the stuff of fairy tales.

I wonder if she knows she has a ketchup stain on her shirt.

It's funny, sure, but you can’t help but cringe every time you think about it. What kind of first impression did you make that day? You don't even know who your soulmate is, just that somewhere, out there, someone’s first impression of you was that you were a mess. It’s become a running joke among your friends, something you laugh off, but in the back of your mind, you can’t shake the feeling that when you finally meet them, it’s going to be awkward.

For years, you've searched crowds, looked at strangers’ tattoos, hoping to catch a glimpse of something that might give you a clue. No luck. Life moves on, and you stop looking quite so actively, focusing on your own career instead. After all, it’s not like you can control when or how you meet your soulmate. It'll happen when it happens.

But it does happen.

You’re at a charity gala in New York, your company hosting a benefit for technological innovations in renewable energy. As someone involved in the development sector, it's part of your job to represent the company, socialize, and network. That’s how you end up near the bar, scanning the room for anyone who looks like a potential business connection.

And that’s when you see him.

Tony Stark.

He’s hard to miss, obviously. Tony Stark, genius, billionaire, Avenger, and all-around larger-than-life personality. You’ve seen him on TV and in interviews, but there’s something different about seeing him in person. He’s wearing a perfectly tailored suit, drink in hand, looking amused by something someone just said.

Your first thought?

Huh, he’s taller than I thought.

Then, just as quickly, God, how does his suit fit that well?

You’re about to turn away and rejoin the group when, out of the corner of your eye, you see him glance in your direction. And then he starts walking right toward you.

Your heart leaps to your throat as you quickly glance down at yourself, suddenly self-conscious. Is there something on your face? Hair out of place? Ketchup stain?

“Hi,” Tony says, stopping in front of you, looking at you with a smirk. "You look like you're about to sprint off somewhere."

Your mouth opens, but no sound comes out for a second. You're so stunned that Tony Stark is standing right in front of you, speaking to you like you're someone worth noticing.

“Uh—hi. No, just… thinking,” you manage to say, your voice sounding much calmer than you feel.

He raises an eyebrow, amused. "Well, careful with all that thinking. Could lead to dangerous places."

You can’t help but laugh. It’s a stupid joke, but it lightens the mood, easing some of your nerves. Tony Stark is surprisingly… not intimidating? Maybe it's the easy confidence, the humor that makes him feel less untouchable.

“You’re here for the renewable energy thing, right?” Tony asks, leaning casually against the bar. “What do you do?”

You quickly tell him about your work, grateful that you're able to form coherent sentences again. The conversation flows surprisingly naturally, and before long, you’re actually enjoying yourself.

“So,” Tony says, eyes gleaming as he takes a sip of his drink. “Soulmate tattoo. What’s yours?”

You blink, surprised by the sudden question. You hadn’t expected the conversation to go there so quickly.

"Uh, well…" You hesitate for a moment, but then you figure, why not? It’s not like he’s going to see it. “It's… kind of embarrassing, actually.”

“Oh, those are the best kinds. Now you have to tell me,” he grins, leaning in with mock curiosity.

You laugh again and hold up your wrist, showing him the words you’ve grown so familiar with.

“I wonder if she knows she has a ketchup stain on her shirt,” you say, reading it out loud for him.

Tony bursts out laughing, a genuine laugh that lights up his entire face. “Wow. That’s… that’s actually amazing.”

“Yeah, well, I try not to think about it too much,” you reply with a self-deprecating smile.

Tony’s laughter dies down, but the smile lingers. "You never know. Could make for a great story when you meet them."

“Maybe,” you say with a shrug. “What about you? What's your tattoo?”

Tony hesitates, something almost unreadable flickering across his face. For a split second, he looks vulnerable, which is strange to see on someone like him. Then he smirks again, the mask of confidence snapping back into place.

“Oh, mine’s ridiculous,” he says, holding out his wrist.

You glance down at his tattoo and freeze.

Huh, he’s taller than I thought.

Your brain takes a moment to catch up. It’s your first thought. Your words. The exact thing you thought the moment you saw him across the room.

Your heart starts pounding. “Wait, this is…”

Tony looks at you, his expression shifting from playful to serious in an instant. “Yeah. Looks like we’ve got a match.”

You stare at him, speechless, as the weight of the realization sinks in. Tony Stark is your soulmate.

“I—I don’t understand,” you stammer. “When did you…”

“When did I think you had a ketchup stain?” he finishes for you with a wry smile. “About five years ago. Tech conference in Palo Alto. You walked in with a coffee in one hand and a sandwich in the other. And, well… you had a ketchup stain on your shirt.”

You blink, the memory slowly coming back to you. You remember that conference. You remember spilling ketchup on your shirt. But what you don’t remember is Tony Stark being there.

He watches you closely, almost like he’s waiting for something. “I didn’t think you’d ever find out,” he says softly.

“I—" You look up at him, everything finally clicking into place. "I can’t believe this.”

Tony shrugs, but there’s something tender in the way he looks at you now. “Believe it, sweetheart. Looks like we’ve got ourselves a story.”

You take a moment to process what just happened, your mind racing. You never imagined meeting your soulmate would be like this, in a crowded gala surrounded by the elite, and especially not with Tony Stark.

“So…” you say, trying to regain your composure. “This is kind of a big deal, right? I mean, we’re soulmates and all.”

“Big deal? That’s an understatement,” he replies with a playful smirk, clearly enjoying your flustered state. “But you have to admit, the ketchup stain part is pretty entertaining.”

You laugh, the tension easing slightly. “Yeah, it really is. I suppose it could’ve been worse. At least you didn’t think I was a complete disaster when you first saw me.”

Tony grins, tilting his head slightly. “I’ve seen worse. And I’m pretty sure I was the one who looked like a disaster when we first met. You, on the other hand, were effortlessly charming.”

Your cheeks flush at the compliment. “Effortlessly charming? You must be joking.”

“Nope.” He leans closer, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “You had a coffee in one hand and a sandwich in the other and you still managed to look amazing. That’s not something everyone can pull off.”

You roll your eyes, but you can’t help the smile creeping onto your face. “I appreciate that. But what are we supposed to do now? I mean, how does this whole soulmate thing work?”

Tony leans back against the bar, his expression turning thoughtful. “Well, there’s no manual for this kind of thing. But I guess we could start with getting to know each other better.” He gestures to the gala around you, where people are mingling and enjoying themselves. “Want to escape this place for a bit? I know a great rooftop view.”

Your heart races at the thought of spending more time alone with him. “Are you sure? Won’t people wonder where you’ve gone?”

“I’m sure they’ll be just fine without me for a little while,” he says with a wave of his hand. “Besides, I’m sure they’re all busy trying to impress each other. And I’d much rather be up there with you.” He grins, and the sincerity in his eyes makes you want to take a chance.

“Okay,” you agree, surprising even yourself. “Let’s go.”

You follow Tony through the crowded room, weaving between groups of people, past waiters carrying trays of hors d'oeuvres, and up a set of sleek glass elevators. The ride is quick, and your stomach flutters with anticipation. You can’t believe you’re about to spend more time with him—your soulmate.

When the doors slide open, you step out onto the rooftop, greeted by the cool night air and a stunning view of the city skyline. The stars twinkle overhead, and the lights of New York stretch out like a sea of diamonds.

Tony leads you to the edge, and you lean against the railing, taking in the breathtaking scene. The city buzzes below, alive and vibrant, and for a moment, everything feels perfect.

“Wow,” you breathe, trying to catch your breath. “This is beautiful.”

“Not as beautiful as you,” he says without missing a beat. His tone is playful, but the way he looks at you is serious, intense even.

Your heart skips a beat. “You’re really laying it on thick, aren’t you?”

“Only when it’s true,” he replies, moving a bit closer, so you can feel the warmth radiating off him. “It’s crazy to think we’ve been living in the same world for years and didn’t even know. I mean, the odds of us meeting here, of all places, are wild.”

“Yeah, it is,” you agree, your voice barely above a whisper. “I guess I always thought when I met my soulmate, it would be all fireworks and fate and romance.”

He chuckles softly. “And here we are, talking about ketchup stains and fancy suits. Very romantic.”

You smile at that. “It has its charm, I suppose.”

Tony turns to face you, his expression shifting to something more serious. “So, what do you want to know about me? I mean, besides the obvious—that I’m a genius billionaire superhero.”

You can’t help but laugh again. “Okay, let’s skip the superhero part. What’s something about you that no one else knows?”

He thinks for a moment, and you can see the wheels turning in his head. “I’ll give you a fun one. I have a massive fear of failing. It’s part of why I push myself so hard. If I’m not the best, then what am I?”

You blink in surprise. “Really? I would have never guessed that. You always seem so confident, so in control.”

“That’s the façade,” he admits, looking out over the city again. “Most people don’t see the doubts that keep me up at night.”

“Wow. Thanks for sharing that with me,” you say softly. “It’s refreshing to hear something real.”

“Your turn,” he insists, turning to face you again. “What about you? What’s something that keeps you up at night?”

You take a breath, the weight of your thoughts pressing down on you. “I worry that I won’t ever be enough. That I’ll never make the impact I want to make in the world. It feels like I’m always chasing something, you know?”

Tony nods, his expression understanding. “Yeah, I get that. But you’re doing something amazing. You’re involved in renewable energy. That’s huge.”

“I suppose,” you say, a little shyly. “But I still feel like I could be doing more. I just want to make a difference.”

“You already are,” he says, his voice steady. “And now you’re my soulmate, which is a pretty big deal in itself. We can make a difference together.”

Your heart swells at the thought. “Together, huh?”

“Yeah. Together,” he repeats, stepping a little closer. “I don’t know what the future holds, but I think we could figure it out. What do you say?”

You look into his eyes, and it’s as if the world around you fades away. It’s just you and him, standing on a rooftop overlooking the city, two souls destined to find each other. “I’d like that.”

“Good,” he says, a smile breaking across his face. “Because I definitely plan to keep you around.”

With that, he leans in, closing the distance between you, and for a moment, everything else fades away as your lips meet. It’s gentle at first, exploratory, but then deepens as the realization hits that you’re sharing this moment with your soulmate. The world is electric, and you feel the connection between you ignite.

When you finally pull away, breathless, you know this is only the beginning. There’s so much more to explore, to learn, and to discover together.

“Wow,” you breathe, your heart racing. “That was…”

“Yeah,” he interrupts, a teasing grin back on his face. “I know. Better than a ketchup stain, right?”

You can’t help but burst into laughter, shaking your head. “Okay, I’ll give you that one.”

And in that moment, as you stand together on the rooftop, laughter spilling into the night air, you realize that this was only the start of your incredible journey together. Soulmates, destined to make each other’s lives a little more colorful, ketchup stains and all.

For the next few weeks, life is a whirlwind. After that rooftop moment with Tony, things between you and him move fast but not in the way you expected. You see each other regularly, grabbing dinners, texting late at night, meeting up when you can. The chemistry is undeniable, and every time you're together, it feels like there's something bigger building between you two. But Tony's life is complicated. It comes with a lot of attention, and soon, the press starts to notice.

It begins with whispers, rumors on social media. Photos of you two at events surface, and the internet goes wild, speculating about who you are, what your relationship with Tony is, and, most importantly, whether you’re his new girlfriend or just another passing fling.

At first, it’s just gossip. But then it escalates.

One morning, you wake up to your phone buzzing uncontrollably. Texts, emails, and missed calls flood your notifications. You sit up in bed, confused, before your eyes land on one of the headlines plastered across your phone screen:

"Tony Stark’s New Mystery Woman: Another One in a Long Line of Flings?"

Your stomach drops. Another headline follows:

“Who is Y/N L/N? Stark’s Latest 'Arm Candy' or Something More?”

The articles are brutal. Some of them dig into your personal life, questioning your background, even speculating that you might be using Tony to further your career. Others call you names you can’t even bear to read. Worse, they paint Tony as a playboy who moves from one woman to the next, suggesting that you’re just the flavor of the month.

You throw your phone down on the bed, your hands shaking. How did it escalate so fast? It was just a few dinners, a couple of public appearances. You didn’t ask for this.

Later that day, you sit at a café, your mind buzzing with everything you’ve read. You're sipping your coffee when Tony shows up, his presence always commanding, but today there's something different in the air. He sits down across from you, the usual playful spark in his eyes replaced with concern.

"You're upset," he says simply, cutting right to the point.

You nod, swallowing the lump in your throat. "Have you seen the headlines?"

Tony leans back, crossing his arms. "Yeah, I saw them. Look, this happens sometimes. People like to talk, especially when they don't know what's going on. You just have to ignore it."

“Ignore it?” You stare at him in disbelief. “Tony, they’re tearing me apart online. They’re acting like I’m some… some gold-digger who's using you, or worse, just a fling in your long history of flings."

His jaw tightens, and you can see the frustration building behind his calm exterior. "You know that’s not true. I know that’s not true. Who cares what some gossip sites say?"

“I care! I’m not used to this, Tony. This isn’t my world! I didn’t ask to have my life dragged through the mud because of who I’m spending time with.”

He reaches across the table and takes your hand, his thumb rubbing gently over your knuckles. "I know this is hard. But people are always going to talk. I’ve been dealing with this for years. It sucks, but it doesn’t last forever."

You pull your hand back, frustration bubbling up. "But it’s different for you. You’ve been in the spotlight your whole life. People expect this from you. For me, it’s… humiliating. My colleagues are seeing these headlines. My family. Do you know how embarrassing it is to be called a fling? To be dismissed like I don’t matter?"

Tony exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair. "I’m not dismissing you. I never would."

"It’s not about you dismissing me. It’s about everyone else thinking that’s what’s happening." You bite your lip, looking down at your coffee cup. "I just… I don’t know if I’m ready for all of this. The attention, the gossip. I wasn’t prepared for any of it."

“I can’t make the headlines go away,” Tony says softly. “But I can stand by you through them. If this is too much for you, I’ll understand. But if you want to stay, if you want to try… I’m not going anywhere."

There’s an honesty in his eyes that makes your breath catch. You can see the vulnerability there, the rawness he’s trying to share with you. Tony Stark, the man who is larger than life, standing before you and offering something real.

You take a deep breath, feeling the weight of the decision you’re about to make. "I don’t want to walk away from this, Tony. I just… I need to know that you’re in this for real. No games, no casual flings. If we’re doing this, it has to be serious."

“It is,” he says immediately, no hesitation. “I’m in this for real, Y/N. No games. No flings."

The sincerity in his voice melts some of the fear inside you. You nod slowly, your shoulders relaxing just a bit. "Okay. Then… let’s do this."

A smile spreads across his face, that familiar Stark confidence returning. "Good. Because I wasn’t planning on letting you go that easily."

You smile back, feeling some of the tension lift. For the first time in days, you feel like maybe, just maybe, this could work.

But as soon as you begin to relax, your phone vibrates again. You glance at the screen, and your stomach tightens as you see another headline flash across the notification:

"EXCLUSIVE: Sources Claim Stark’s ‘Soulmate’ is After His Fortune—Friends Warn He’s Being Played."

You feel the blood drain from your face. Tony’s brow furrows as he notices the change in your expression.

“What is it?” he asks, but before you can answer, his phone buzzes, too. He pulls it out, glancing at the screen before cursing under his breath.

“I’ll handle this,” he says quickly, anger flashing in his eyes. “This is just some idiot trying to stir up trouble. I’ll talk to the press. I’ll clear this up.”

But it doesn’t feel like it’s just gossip anymore. It feels personal, and it feels like whoever is behind this wants to tear you apart.

“Tony…” you start, your voice barely above a whisper. “What if this doesn’t stop? What if this just keeps getting worse?”

His jaw tightens, and he steps closer to you, determination hardening his gaze. “I told you, I’m not letting this come between us. Whoever’s behind this, we’ll deal with it. Together.”

Tony doesn’t waste any time. The moment he sees the new headline, he’s in action mode. His jaw clenches, and his eyes narrow with determination. He’s dealt with attacks like this before, but this time, it’s personal—and he’s not going to let someone mess with what the two of you have.

“We need to find out who’s feeding these stories to the press,” he says, already typing away on his phone. “There’s no way this is just random gossip. Someone’s deliberately trying to stir things up.”

You sit there, still shaken by the headlines, but his confidence is a bit reassuring. “How do we even start? I mean, the media… they don’t just reveal their sources, do they?”

“They don’t. But I have people. We’ll find out who’s behind this.”

Over the next few days, Tony taps into every resource he has, which, unsurprisingly, is a lot. He calls in favors from friends in the media, tech experts, and even digs into security footage from recent events you’ve attended together. The digging takes time, and while Tony handles most of the legwork, you can see the toll it’s taking on him. His usual carefree attitude fades into something more serious. He’s laser-focused on protecting you, and it makes your heart ache to see how much he’s willing to fight for you.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, Tony gets a lead.

“Got it,” he announces one night, barging into your apartment with a determined look on his face. “It’s someone on the board at Stark Industries. A guy named Victor Lanning.”

“Victor Lanning?” you ask, the name unfamiliar to you.

Tony nods, his expression darkening. “He’s been pushing for more influence within the company, and apparently, he didn’t like that I’ve been ‘distracted’ with personal matters lately. Decided to use our relationship to try and weaken me publicly. Classic power move.”

You blink, trying to process what he’s saying. “So, this was all about business? About him trying to make you look bad so he could… what? Get your job?”

Tony sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Something like that. He figured if he made me look like I wasn’t focused, the board would start questioning my leadership. And what better way to make me look distracted than to spin it like you’re using me? It’s a dirty move, but it’s not the first time someone’s tried to pull something like this.”

Your stomach churns with a mixture of anger and disgust. “All of this because I’m your soulmate? Because he thinks I’m a distraction?”

Tony steps closer, his hand finding yours. “He doesn’t matter. What matters is that we’re going to set the record straight. I’ll deal with him. But first, we need to clear your name.”

You nod, feeling a spark of hope. “What do we do?”

Tony smirks, that familiar glint of mischief back in his eyes. “We go public. Officially.”

The next morning, the press conference is set. Tony’s team works fast, organizing everything within hours. You’re nervous as you stand beside him backstage, waiting for your cue. Tony notices your fidgeting and gently takes your hand, squeezing it reassuringly.

“Hey,” he whispers, leaning in close. “You’ve got this. We’ve got this.”

You nod, feeling a little steadier with him by your side.

Finally, it’s time. The two of you walk out to the flashing lights of cameras and a sea of reporters, their voices buzzing with curiosity. Tony stands tall, confident, as always, but there's a gentleness in the way he holds your hand.

“Thank you all for coming,” Tony begins, his voice firm yet calm. “I wanted to address some recent rumors about my personal life. It’s no secret that I’ve been in the headlines recently, and a lot of the things being said are completely false. Someone from my company decided to spread lies because they didn’t like the fact that I’ve been spending time with Y/N. But the truth is, she’s the best thing that’s happened to me in a long time. And if people want to attack her to get to me, well, I’m not going to let that happen."

You glance at him, and he gives you an encouraging nod before continuing.

“But more importantly, I want to clear up something that actually matters,” Tony says, his tone softening. “The woman standing beside me, Y/N L/N, is not just some ‘fling’ or ‘arm candy.’ She’s... well, she’s my soulmate.”

A wave of murmurs spreads through the crowd, but Tony keeps going, his eyes steady on yours. “Yeah, you heard that right. We’ve got the tattoos to prove it.”

The reporters lean forward, the flashes of cameras intensifying as you and Tony raise your wrists, showing your matching tattoos. There, in plain sight, are the words that started it all. Your tattoo reads: "I wonder if she knows she has a ketchup stain on her shirt." and his reads: "Huh, he’s taller than I thought."

The room falls quiet for a moment, the weight of the reveal sinking in. Then, slowly, Tony speaks again, his voice quieter but more intimate, as if he’s speaking just to you, even though everyone can hear.

“The first time I saw her, I wasn’t thinking about business or my reputation or anything else. I was just thinking about how she had this charming, messy moment, and it made me smile. She was real. And that’s the thing: Y/N makes me feel like I can be real, too.”

Your heart swells at his words, and you can’t help but smile.

The room erupts in questions, but Tony raises a hand to quiet them down. "That’s all we wanted to say. The rumors? Ignore them. The truth? It’s right here."

He turns to you, his eyes soft, and in that moment, it feels like it’s just the two of you again. “So, are we done with the press?” he asks, the corner of his mouth twitching up in a playful grin.

You laugh, relieved, and nod. “Definitely.”

As you walk off the stage, hand in hand, you feel a weight lift off your shoulders. The truth is out there now, and it’s your truth. No more hiding, no more rumors.

Once you’re out of sight from the cameras, Tony pulls you into a gentle hug, his lips brushing against your temple. “Told you we’d get through this.”

You wrap your arms around him, feeling a sense of peace settle over you. “I know. I’m just glad it’s over.”

He pulls back slightly, his eyes locking with yours, a soft smile on his face. “It’s not over. This is just the beginning.”

And in that moment, you know he’s right. Together, you’ve faced the storm, and now, with the world finally knowing the truth, you can move forward. Together, as soulmates.

Flaws, ketchup stains, and all.

127 notes · View notes

thisgirlnamedblusy · 2 months ago

Note

heyyy, i hope you're having a nice day! could i request a story about an insecure reader who had a relationship before donna, but got dumped by her partner for being too "boring" so she thinks donna will leave her too so she asks one the dimitrescu sisters for help to try to be more "sexy" or "fun" for donna. the result is reader giving donna a lap dance, although donna, who very much enjoyed it, sees through her insecurities and comforts her after learning about reader past partner and how they made her feel. also jealous and possessive donna mode on after knowing reader's been asking for help to the dimitrescu sisters on how to be sexy.

hope that's okay, thanks!

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

Boring

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Fluff, suggestive themes, Donna being Donna

Word count: 8,055

Summary: You don't want to repeat your failures...

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

“Um, Donna…” you said.

The nights of passion were a comforting routine, the symbol that your life would never be the same again. It could never be the same with the veiled lady, Lord, doll and nightmare, Donna Beneviento.

After a relationship that still tormented you, your mind didn’t consider starting the journey towards another love again, to let your heart search for a place, a different chest in which to beat.

Your past love affair was a disaster, one of almost catastrophic dimensions. You had no desire for anything. You didn’t believe that anyone could notice a loser like you.

Unintentionally, you attracted the attention of the least expected person, the doll maker.

Meeting her was a journey full of obstacles that she herself placed between you, a dance of blushes, shy questions and funny reactions from the lady's doll, the irreverent Angie.

Your lack of spirit, your innate shame and your shyness were responsible for that previous failure. At least, that's how you saw it, that stupid village girl did see it that way.

When you repeat something many times it gets closer to a real statement, to a truth that sounded more and more convincing. That was what happened to you; part of your insecurities was marked in everything you did, turning the small conversations with the lady in black into pathetic babbling and embarrassed laughter.

Apparently, your reluctance to fall in love again wasn’t the least of a problem for Donna, finding the charm in what you believed to be your greatest flaws, seeing in that shy smile the prettiest one the Lord had ever seen.

That patience, that desire to discover gave you enough courage to unlock the chains that kept your heart imprisoned inside you, allowing it to fly free towards that black dress, to allow yourself the luxury of loving again.

Donna wasn’t the dangerous woman everyone talked about. She was not the monster that, according to the villagers, was hiding behind that black veil.

A beautiful, sensitive, sick but intelligent woman became the new target of your damaged heart. Lord or not, she was the place you wanted to be, the old mansion became your home and her perfume was the veil that served to protect you from harm, from pain, from suffering again.

“Mm…” A lazy murmur came out of her body as she covered herself with the sheets.

“Wait, don't fall asleep yet,” you insisted, shaking the brunette's body, forcing her to look at you uncomfortably. “I have to ask you something.”

“What's wrong, tesoro?” Donna asked, sitting up without being able to hide her expression of disgust.

“Nothing really, but… I-I was wondering if… If you had enjoyed it,” you finally said, playing with the sheets, also covering your body and looking away.

“Mm?” she asked again with a yawn, frowning at your strange question. “Of course I enjoyed it, (Y/N), as always.”

“Oh, okay…” you sighed, but not relieved.

At first, the relationship with Donna was almost perfect. Dealing with her problems, her jealousy, or her insecurities was a complicated task, but one that you quickly mastered. The concern of obtaining something similar to a perfect relationship made you, unintentionally, forget about your own demons.

Your insecurities had been hidden under the concern of being what Donna was looking for, of understanding her past, her sometimes erratic attitude or her exaggerated jealousy. Your way of being modified by the contempt of your former girlfriend became more present as your relationship calmed down.

“W-Wait,” you said hurriedly, turning back on the light that the lady in black turned off, thus ending that pathetic conversation. “Wait a moment, Donna.”

“Ugh, (Y/N), I need to rest, what do you want?” the brunette protested, rubbing her eye with tiredness and discomfort.

“I-I'm sorry... it's just that...” you murmured, moving away from her accusing gaze. “It's just that I haven't felt that... Well, that you've enjoyed it.”

“(Y/N), why do you say that?” she asked, leaning towards you, moving your head with two fingers so that your eyes spoke for you. “Hey, look at me, what's wrong with you?”

“It's probably nonsense but... it's that I've barely heard you and... well, that's something that...” you said with blushing cheeks, intimidated by Lady Beneviento's excessively worried reaction.

“Oh, that's it,” Donna said, her voice soft, with a sad and tired smile. “You shouldn't worry about it, tesoro, you know I don't like to yell,” she said to calm your fears, as if she somehow knew about them.

“I know, but before you… well… you moaned…” you explained nervously, playing with the sheets. “Have I done something wrong?”

“What? No, of course you haven’t,” she answered quickly, shaking her head and grabbing your hand under the sheets. “No, amore mio, you're perfect.”

“Well, thank you…” you whispered, resting your head on her shoulder, letting her arms wrap around your body, serving as a warm remedy for your absurd worries. “But, but…”

“Shh… now let's go to sleep, okay?” the lady said after a brief kiss on the lips, caressing your ruffled hair in a loving way, drawing a finally calm smile from your lips.

Resigned to being left without resolving your doubts, you let her naked body manipulate yours and embrace it in the darkness of the old bedroom. Her warm skin was comforting, but your mind was unable to calm down.

With your eyes open, your mind wandered through that habitual act of passion. Donna wasn’t an expert in love.

Even so, it didn’t take long for her to master the curious art of making love, to give you all the pleasure you didn’t believe you deserved and to receive the one that you were willing to give her. Kisses, moans, gasps, labored breathing, words soaked with desire…

That routine adventure always gave a spicy touch to your life, a moment where silence didn’t dominate the old room, where Donna wasn’t afraid to speak, to say what she thought, what you made her feel with your kisses, with your hands…

But, with the passage of time, that routine began to fade, to become a silent and wet dance. The moans slowly mutated into whispers and discreet gasps, and the end of that sinful act didn't result in many more kisses, in praises, only in a chaste and quick kiss before falling into the arms of Morpheus.

It could simply be the fact of turning those encounters into a habit, into a task to end the day and not as an act of love and passion.

Any rational thought, a logical explanation for that decline in the intensity with which the lady in black claimed you as hers, wasn’t present in your confused mind.

You had already experienced something similar. You had experienced that fading of passion, that passivity when it came to doing something so intimate. Experience told you that this wasn’t a good sign.

The deep breathing you felt on your neck warned you that Donna had already fallen asleep, that there was no danger in rambling about the causes of this different behavior.

One by one, you remembered the kisses, each of the decisions you made that night, each of the places your hands caressed. You didn't notice any change, you never wanted to change your functional way of making love, you never dared to change. So... that lack of enthusiasm on Donna's part... What was the reason?

Yes, the lady in black wasn't particularly communicative. Getting words out of her mouth was still complicated, but much more common than at the beginning. That special way of loving filled your heart, but maybe, just maybe, the way you thanked Donna for that affection, that opportunity, wasn't enough.

Routine always gave you a certain peace of mind. It was the sign that indicated that everything was going well, but you had been wondering for some time now if you were really right. Without wanting to, you remembered your ex. You remembered every insult, every protest…

“You're boring, (Y/N)… You're useless, (Y/N)… You're not funny, I don't like you anymore, I don't love you anymore… No one could love someone as boring as you…”

You had repeated those offensive phrases so many times that they slipped through your mind without difficulty, but doing the same damage to your heart. It took you too long to forget that stupid village girl, but you never really succeeded.

Your heart belonged to Donna, only Donna, it always would, always. You certainly didn't miss that stupid girl, but her passage through your life not only left disappointment and love, but also new worries.

Life with Donna was very calm. It was based on the small things: romantic dinners, walks in the woods, hours and hours of quiet reading on her lap… Everything was perfect for you, everything, but… Was it for her too?

You couldn't help it, for a long time now, every night you fell asleep thinking about the same thing, that apparent lack of interest on the part of the brunette, asking yourself over and over again: Will Donna always love me?

The nights had become a hell of worries and doubts but, luckily, every morning they disappeared with the brunette's lips waking you up in a loving way.

Cuddles in bed, a childish and fun laze, a hot shower next to her... No, nothing had changed between you and Donna.

“You look beautiful this morning, (Y/N),” the lady whispered, lovingly drinking her coffee, looking at you over her cup, masterfully getting a blush on your cheeks.

“Donna...” you said laughing amused, making a gesture with your hand to reassure yourself. “You know I'm very sensitive.”

“Mm, that's why I like you,” she said, winking at you and sighing deeply, without losing that beautiful smile, the one you fell in love with the day she lost her black veil.

“What do you want to do today? We could go for a walk and…” you proposed in a passive way, waiting to know what would be the perfect plan to spend another day with your beloved.

“Good idea, (Y/N), but you'll have to wait for me to come back from the meeting,” Donna commented, lowering her gaze.

“Oh, do you have a meeting? I didn't know,” you said with a disappointed tone, finishing your coffee with an elegant gesture.

“Didn't I tell you?” she asked, frowning and wiping with a napkin.

“Um, no,” you said with a dry voice.

Normally, she had nothing to hide from you. No matter how irrational her thoughts, her worries were, she always talked to you, she told you everything that happened in her life and, of course, she would tell you anything that would break your pleasant routine.

“Sorry, (Y/N), I must have forgotten,” she said, apologizing for something she somehow knew you didn't like.

“Oh, it's okay, I guess walking in the sunset is romantic too,” you said with a fake smile as you saw the tension build up in the lady's body, the strength with which she held the spoon.

“Hey! Why don't you come with us?” Angie asked, appearing by surprise, as always, to scare you.

“Angie…” Donna hissed, annoyed by her doll's insistence on making your stay in the mansion a bit more uncomfortable. “Leave her alone.”

“Shut up, silly Donna!” the puppet protested, causing both of you to shake your heads, laughing amusedly. “I'm talking to her.”

“Mm,” the lady murmured, lowering her gaze, elegantly moving away from the conversation.

“What do you say, silly, silly? Are you coming with us?” the doll asked, comically tugging at your dress. “It will be funny.”

“Oh, no… I’ll stay here,” you said, rejecting Angie’s proposal to accompany them to the meeting, one that wasn’t the first time she made you. “I don’t want to bother.”

“You never bother, tesoro,” Donna said, tilting her head romantically. “Maybe it’s not such a bad idea. I’d like my siblings to see how lucky I’ve been with you.”

“No, no, I…” you said, shaking your head again, looking for a place to hide from that proposal. “I’d rather stay.”

“I’d rather stay, blah, blah, blah…” Angie mocked, making unpleasant gestures that imitated you almost perfectly. “Come with us.”

“Angie, I said no,” you said in a harsher tone, thus revealing the fear you felt of the siblings of your beloved and Donna's adoptive mother, the priestess sent to the village by the Black Gods, Mother Miranda.

“Why not?” Donna asked, with an intriguing tone, with one eye shining with disappointment at your unchanging answer. “I want you to come with me.”

“I know, Donna but… I don't think I'm ready to meet… well, to meet them all. B-Besides, I have no business in a meeting.”

“You're my girlfriend,” she said, darkening her voice little by little, studying each of your cowardly gestures. “Come with us.”

“Donna, I…” you said sighing, looking for an excuse that wouldn't betray cowardice. “It's just that I… prefer to stay at home, reading.”

“Reading,” she repeated, crossing her arms abruptly, pressing her lips together to say with her look that you couldn't lie to her. “If you don't want to come, just say it.”

“That's what I'm trying to do,” you whispered unsurely, camouflaging the trembling of your legs.

Feeling despised, feeling that you were ashamed of her was one of the most dangerous things that could happen to Donna, one of the few things that still triggered terrible crises.

“You don't want to come? Well, okay, silly,” Angie said, breaking that tense moment between you two with her shrill voice. “Stay here with your stupid books, you're boring.”

“What? What did you say?” you asked, startled by that accusation.

Angie had called you many things: stupid, cheesy, Donna-stealer, intruder… But she had never, never said that you were boring, she had never said that word that, just by hearing it, made you invoke all the ghosts of your past.

You didn't know perfectly well the relationship between Donna and her doll. You knew that in some way Angie was part of her, that they were part of the same conscience. If Angie said that you were boring… Donna thought that too, didn't she?

You would do anything so she wouldn't think that way, so that your relationship wouldn't start that sinister path, the one you already knew and that didn't have a happy ending.

“I said, silly, that you are boring,” the doll repeated, with her hands on her hips, enjoying that word that caused your abrupt reaction.

“No, I'm not,” you said, clenching your fists.

“Prove it, come with us to the meeting,” the puppet challenged you.

You, confused and hurt, looked at Donna, who kept her gaze fixed on you, with a serious expression, surely waiting for an answer, waiting for you to reconsider your decision.

“D-Donna, I…” you stammered, seeking help and understanding from your lover. Her face didn't change. “I…”

“It's okay, do whatever you want,” said the lady, getting up from the chair and picking up the breakfast.

“W-Wait, don't be mad, Donna, please,” you said, grabbing her wrist tightly, keeping the upset and offended lady next to you a bit longer.

“I'm tired, (Y/N), tired of you refusing to meet my family,” the ventriloquist scolded you, breaking away from your grip with an unpleasant gesture.

“Are you… tired of me?” you asked with an evident tremor in your voice, bringing your traumas to light.

“No,” she said, with a cold voice, looking away, but trying to soften her nervous attitude. “I just don't understand why you don't want to…”

“O-Okay,” you said, before the pressure led to a pathetic cry. “Okay, Donna, if that's what you want, I'll go with you,” you said, closing your eyes, sacrificing your fears for a greater good, because Donna, as she hinted, won't get tired of you.

“Mm, I appreciate it, (Y/N)…” the lady sighed, regaining her smile and bending down to kiss you softly. “It's very important to me.”

“I know,” you said, relieved by her lips on yours, by the tender smile that replaced the darkness of her gaze.

Reluctant, accompanied by Donna's silence and Angie's mockery, you walked with her through the forest. The black veil indicated that this walk was not just that, it was a journey into the unknown, a horrible, sinister journey for you.

You never wanted to know more about Miranda than you already did. The Lords made the village tremble. They caused nightmares in each of their followers. Yes, you fell in love with one of them, but that didn't mean you wanted to be part of that... strange family.

“Come, sit here,” Donna whispered, bringing you closer to a chair she put next to hers while you avoided by all means meeting the eyes that looked at you with curiosity.

“O-Okay,” you murmured unsure, looking away from the deformed monster of the swamp and the strange and dangerous man who guarded the old factory.

“It's about time, Donna,” that man, Karl Heisenberg said with a sly smile, not wanting to take his gaze away from yours. “I thought you lied about your girlfriend...”

“Shut up, you fool!” Angie shrieked, walking mockingly towards the Lord.

Donna, even more reluctant to speak, defend herself, or make the slightest gesture of communication, stood her ground, bringing her hand closer to yours.

“What a cutie!” Karl squealed, drawing your attention again. “What's your name, cutie?”

“Um, I… M-my name is…” you stammered, noticing the hand of the lady in black in yours.

“Don't answer him, dear. A lady should not communicate with vermin,” a seductive voice interrupted that awkward moment.

Luckily, not all the Lords were so fearsome or distant. You knew that voice, Alcina Dimitrescu.

The lady of the castle seemed to despise the rest of her siblings, but with Donna… with her it was different. Pity or female complicity, you didn't know exactly why, but it wasn't the first time you were dragged to the old castle to spend the afternoon with the tall lady and her… daughters.

“Hey, fat ass! I'm not talking to you!” Heisenberg protested while you took advantage of that defense to get a little closer to Donna, to feel protected by her side.

“Don't pay attention to them, tesoro,” Donna whispered, running her hand over your face, showing her siblings the conquest she had made in your heart, saying with those vague gestures that you were hers. “You are with me.”

“I know, thank you, Donna,” you said with a grateful smile while the discussion between the two siblings became much louder.

Luckily, Mother Miranda wasn’t long in appearing, eclipsing the yelling completely, creating in that sinister place an atmosphere of obedience, of blind faith.

The priestess barely noticed you, wielding a sinister smile when her eyes met yours, but nothing else, nothing that made you think that it had been a bad idea to accompany your lover to those tedious meetings with her family.

“Well, I hope to see you next week, dears,” Alcina said, getting up like the rest of the Lords, talking to the silent Donna, who refused, the whole time, to let your hand go. “You needed wine, didn’t you?”

“Yes, yes,” Angie said, speaking for her owner as usual, making a seductive smile form on the tall woman’s face.

“Mm, great, oh, and bring that pretty girl, my daughters always ask me about her,” Alcina commented before turning around and disappearing, winking at you awkwardly.

The old cathedral fell silent. Donna didn’t move from her seat and you, at last, could breathe easier.

“How are you, darling? Did you have a bad time?” she asked behind her black veil, gently drawing you towards her and sitting you on her lap. “You seemed very nervous.”

“I was very nervous,” you said amused, looking with your eyes for some trace of terror among those walls. “But it didn’t go as bad as I thought. They barely noticed my presence.”

“Mm, do you think so?” the lady in black asked, placing you in a more comfortable position. “I think they did, (Y/N)… I'm sure they're jealous.”

“Jealous? Come on,” you said amused, feeling Donna's veiled lips on your neck, quick and playful kisses.

“Yes, jealous…” the woman confirmed, following her trail of kisses to your lips. “You're so beautiful…”

“You're just being accommodating because I've accompanied you,” you joked, giving her a soft punch on the shoulder, which she countered with a movement of her hand, moving the black fabric away from her face and kissing you wetly on the lips, barely letting you breathe.

“Maybe. But I was taught to be grateful,” she whispered in your ear, bringing her hand to your leg, lightly digging her nails into your skin. “Come here, tesoro…”

“W-Wait, wait,” you said among amused laughs as little by little, the brunette's kisses seemed to deepen more and more. “Donna.”

“Mm? What's wrong?” she asked, with a slurred, marked tone, one that revealed intentions that you wouldn't imagine in normal circumstances.

The kisses had lasted too long and the possessiveness that Donna always showed when the light was dimmer was quite evident in that seemingly wild, out of place attitude.

“Donna, what are you doing?” you asked when the tickling of her hand on your leg slowly moved up your dress.

Uncomfortable, nervous and amused, you moved on her lap, struggling to escape from that sudden passionate attack. You didn't really know what the reason was, but you didn't give it too much importance either, at least until your annoying brain remembered where you were.

“Shh, don't say anything,” she whispered in your ear, sailing relentlessly towards your underwear. “It will only be a moment.”

“A moment… but… but…” you protested, moving more obviously, avoiding the contact of her fingers from touching your skin and ignoring your clothes. “Here?”

“What's the problem? I want to make love to you…” the lady sighed, not struggling with you, but holding you tighter. “You're so good…”

“Yes, but, but, here…” you stammered unable to resist that outburst so uncharacteristic of her.

Surely that possessive and wet attitude had some explanation that had to do with jealousy, but that wasn't what prevented you from continuing. “Here…”

“There's no one, we're alone,” she said impatient, also playing with her dress, elegantly and discreetly leading your hand under it. “Don't worry about Angie. She's not going to bother us.”

“Angie is not the problem, Donna,” you said, finally getting off her lap, avoiding another of her intense kisses. “It's just that... hey, what's wrong with you? What's this about?”

“I have a wonderful girlfriend who hasn't been influenced by my siblings. She's been good, quiet, obedient... you know that seeing you like this... It turns me on...” she said, scared by your reaction, with her brow furrowed by your imminent rejection.

“Oh, well, I've already told you a thousand times that I love you, only you and...” you stammered, scratching the back of your neck, avoiding the brunette's attempts to return you to her lap.

“Well, come here, let me show you how grateful I am to the Gods for the opportunity to meet you, come on,” Donna said with a dangerous smile, making a sensual gesture with her finger, one that made you move away, shaking your head.

“No, I can't, not here,” you said with a timid voice, having made the decision long before verbalizing it. “Why don't we go home? We'll do whatever you want there.”

“Mm, home,” she said, leaning back in the chair and crossing her legs. “As always.”

“Yes, well, I'll be more comfortable there,” you explained with a tender, sweet voice, which countered the disgust on the doll maker's face, one she couldn't hide.

“You're so boring, tesoro,” she murmured, slowly getting up and adjusting her veil.

Those words pierced your chest, leaving you frozen as the lady passed by you with an air of arrogance, picking up the inert doll on the floor.

“I'm not boring!” you screamed irrationally, thus emitting a small cry for help, a pressure that you had been feeling for some time and that you couldn't avoid. “I-I'm not…”

The lady in black turned around, probably surprised by your outburst.

“Qual è il tuo problema?” she asked in a dark, but soft, calm voice. “Why are you yelling at me?”

“I'm… sorry,” you said, head down, running to be at her level. “It's just that I've gotten really nervous.”

“Mm, you've been really irascible lately, really, how do you say? Nervous,” she said, walking out of the cathedral next to you, next to your sad and embarrassed body. “If something happens to you, you have to tell me.”

“It's nothing, just, just my stuff,” you said, getting a little closer to the lady as you walked, trying to make the grip on her arm mutate as always into an interlacing of hands, something that didn't happen.

“There are no your stuff, (Y/N), you are mine, I am yours, your problems are mine, do you understand?” the lady in black commented in a calmer tone, after a few minutes of walking in silence.

“It's not a problem, it's just that…” you said, finally getting your fingers to join together and Donna's steps to slow down so she could hear you better. “I'm sorry about rejecting you.”

“I'm not mad because you didn't want to make love,” she said, looking away, but keeping her hand in yours.

“It's just that I don't want you to think that… that I'm boring,” you said murmuring, not wanting to say those hurtful words. “It's just that I felt uncomfortable in that place, you know, I prefer something more romantic.”

“Mm, I'm listening, what do you propose?” Donna said, apparently free of any resentment, a shame that your paranoia prevented you from noticing something like that.

“We could have a dinner like the ones before, you know, a romantic dinner with candles, some wine…” you said, leaning on her shoulder, taking refuge from the cold in her arms. “It's been a long time since we've done something like this.”

“I thought you weren't interested anymore,” she commented, making you frown. “But I'm afraid there's a problem.”

“What problem?” you asked curiously.

“We don't have any wine, (Y/N), I told Alcina I'd go to the castle in a couple of days,” Donna explained, stopping walking and turning to face you, stealing a kiss from you. “What an obstacle, isn't it?”

“You're right, without wine there's no romantic dinner,” you said amused, grabbing her waist. “We could go to the castle now for it, what do you think?”

“And when do I work on my dolls?” she asked, separating elegantly, placing her veil and shaking her head. “I can't.”

“Oh, okay, but... W-Well, I could go to the castle for it, so you could work on your dolls in peace, what do you think?” you proposed, seeing in that next romantic dinner the opportunity you longed for to rekindle the flame of what you believed was an extinct passion.

“Mm, do you want to go to the castle, by yourself?” she repeated, with a distrustful sigh. “No.”

“I'll be fine, I promise, besides, I already know Alcina and the girls,” you said with an enthusiastic smile, wanting to take those steps, to be the one to improvise, a role you always refused to have.

“That's what worries me,” she said, coming closer again.

“But Donna, it's our romantic dinner…” you said, clasping your hands, with eyes shining like a helpless puppy. “I want that dinner…”

The lady seemed to hesitate but, after a last kiss, she nodded, walking away from you.

“I'll give you an hour. If you take longer, I'll come find you and you don't want that,” she murmured, moving away from you amid impertinent questions from the doll.

“You're the best,” you said, jumping on the ground and hugging the brunette from behind. She growled in annoyance, but couldn't hide an amused laugh. “Ti amo, Donna.”

“Go,” she said, turning around, making the sparkle in her eye peek through the black fabric of her veil.

The smile at your victory disappeared as you walked. The cause of that improvised plan was a problem you could no longer ignore. Boring, dull, lacking passion... Those adjectives haunted you like the sounds of footsteps in the snow.

Your previous girlfriend was crazy. She always wanted to be with you everywhere, enjoy you and your body anywhere, anytime. You kept up that frenetic pace for a while, but the pranks and love affairs took away part of your health.

You weren't like her. Your modesty, shame and shyness contrasted with that unbridled, lack of coherence attitude. Maybe if you had thought that way you wouldn't have taken that breakup as something deeply personal, as something that you were guilty of.

Donna was calm. She liked to be at home, not to go too far from the normal, from the… boring life. That life had its ups and downs, and had its moments to be wild and to be romantic.

The lack of spark, of that passion at the beginning reminded you dangerously of your previous relationship. The refusal to give yourself to her in such a sacred place, the rejection, her reaction, made you live one of the many situations with that stupid village girl.

Lack of enthusiasm, lack of moans, of words of love… They were subtle signs that something was very wrong.

Maybe with that dinner, with a night of real passion you could get rid of your demons forever, although, to be honest, you didn't think so. Donna was everything to you, you couldn't lose her. You couldn't be the one to blame for the lady in black abandoning you.

Without knowing exactly how, turning over all those thoughts, you arrived at the castle.

“My dear, I wasn't expecting you so soon,” Alcina said as she welcomed you into the castle, passing an uncomfortable hand over your shoulders. “Without Donna...”

“Donna is busy,” you said, clearing your throat to try to dispel the little tension that always appeared when the lady of the castle was nearby. “I've come for the wine.”

“Well, what a disappointment, I thought you were coming to see me,” said the lady in white, feigning something like a sad sigh, but without removing that sinister and homogeneous smile from her face.

“I'm sorry, my lady,” you said, looking away from those bright eyes.

“Mm, Donna is very lucky,” she commented, sighing again and pointing with her head to a small room. “Wait for me there while I go get the wine. The castle is cold…”

“Well, thank you, my lady,” you said, nodding and sitting down in one of the armchairs, with a somewhat nervous gesture.

“You’re welcome, dear…”

Loneliness brought back your paranoid thoughts, although, luckily or unfortunately, you soon realized that you weren’t alone in that warm room. An annoying buzz reached your ears, followed by many more, from a black cloud that formed in front of you.

“Hello, hello, hello…” Daniela Dimitrescu's mocking voice alerted you before she had fully obtained her form and her sinister and bloody smile. “It's (Y/N), Donna's girlfriend.”

“H-Hello,” you said, nervous.

You knew the Dimitrescu sisters perfectly, but whenever you had been with them, Donna was nearby, as was their mother. Being alone with one of them was a bit… disturbing.

“Where's Aunt Donna? Didn't she come with you?” the young vampire asked, looking around you exaggeratedly.

You timidly shook your head.

“N-No, Donna's at home with her dolls, I came alone,” you said in a small voice.

“Ohh, so you've come to see me, right?” she asked mockingly, in a funny way, sitting on the arm of that chair, taking advantage of the absence of the lady in black to get a little closer to you.

“I'm afraid I haven’t,” you said, laughing softly at the audacity of the family. Mother and daughters, they were all the same. “I've come for wine.”

“Wine, oh, of course, yes…” she murmured, looking at her nails. “What for?”

“Well… to drink,” you said in a whisper.

“That's what everyone says,” she snapped at you, putting a thin finger on the tip of your nose. “You're hiding something.”

“Me?” you asked, pointing at yourself, blinking in confusion. “I'm not hiding anything.”

“Save your lies, I can smell it…” the young Dimitrescu hissed, making an unpleasant gesture towards you. “Your thoughts are so loud that my head hurts.”

“Oh, it's nothing,” you said, demonstrating your lack of ability to lie, much more diminished thanks to Daniela's imposing presence. “T-The wine is for a romantic dinner.”

“That's much better, it's not right to lie to your family,” she said, amused, patting your back, perhaps too hard.

“Yes…” you sighed, putting on a face that the vampire found somewhat strange, as she approached you, observing you so intensely that you had to step back a little. “Um, um…”

“A romantic dinner… I envy you so much, (Y/N)…” she finally sighed, leaving your personal space alone.

“Yes, well, it's not that big of a deal, or well it is, or not, I don't know,” you stammered, revealing your nervous attitude, something that made Daniela laugh in a disturbing way.

“What do you mean? Hey, Donna's girlfriend, you're really weird,” she accused you again, with a more formal, serious tone. “Do you and Donna have problems?”

“What?” you asked, startling . “No, no, not at all… I don't think so…”

“You don't think so? Hey, Donna's girlfriend… if you have any problems with my aunt, get ready to have them with me,” she said threateningly.

“I don't have any problem with Donna,” you said, trying to reassure yourself of the truth of your words. “I-It's me.”

“You? What's wrong with you?” Daniela asked curiously, sitting back down on the arm of the chair. “You can tell me, we're friends, right?”

“Oh, are we?” you asked amused, arching your eyebrows.

“Sure,” the vampire said, in a serious, confident way. “What's wrong?”

“Oh, no, I don't know if I could talk about this... with you... don't be offended,” you said, making nervous gestures with your hands.

“Would you rather talk about it with my mother?” she asked in an ironic tone, crossing her arms just as you suspected, offended.

“No, no, no, no,” you said quickly. “Don't say anything to your mother, please.”

“Then spit it out, what's wrong?” she insisted.

It’s not like you had any other choice, besides, what could you lose by asking for some advice from… your friend?

“It’s okay,” you said, speaking quieter, causing Daniela to move uncomfortably closer again. “I’m scared, I think, I think Donna doesn’t… she doesn’t love me anymore.”

“What nonsense, Aunt Donna is crazy about you,” she said, laughing as if you had said something absurd.

“It’s just that I… we don’t… oh, forget it,” you said, regretting telling Dimitrescu your personal problems.

“Now you'll have to tell me... if you don't want me to tell Aunt Donna,” Daniela sang, threateningly. “Spit it out, problems in bed?”

“No,” you said quickly, maybe too quickly. “It's not exactly that.”

“So, I got it right,” she said, satisfied. “I'm the best.”

“Yes, yes... it's just that... it's just that Donna isn't... well, what she used to be. It seems that she doesn't like the way I love her anymore, you know what I mean. It's like she thinks that I... that I'm boring,” you murmured confidentially.

“Boring? You? You've managed to win Aunt Donna's cold heart, I don't think you're boring at all,” Donna said, dismissing it with a gesture of her hand.

Well, you didn't expect Dimitrescu to know your past either.

“But what if she thinks so? I don't want to lose her, Daniela,” you said in a whisper, looking away to hide your anguish. “I need to do something... I don't know, something that gets her attention, that shows that I'm not... boring.”

“Oh, I see,” she said, patting your back hard again. “You want to rekindle the passion, huh?”

“It's not exactly that, but maybe it'll help,” you said, looking at the door impatiently.

You wanted that wine and to get out of there as soon as possible.

“Well... I'm not an expert in long-term relationships, but if you want some advice, I know something that Donna likes, a lot,” she said, feigning confidentiality.

“Do you know something that Donna likes? What are you talking about?” you asked curiously, extremely curious.

Daniela laughed, shaking her head and rolling her eyes.

“Okay, I may not know that Donna likes it, but... it's something that drives men crazy, and women too, I assure you. It never fails,” the young woman acknowledged, awakening your interest.

“Oh,” you gasped, looking away from the door and looking into those bright eyes, which seemed to enjoy the conversation. “What is it?”

Daniela Dimitrescu's advice was something absurd, something you had never considered and that you found terribly embarrassing.

You knew that Donna was a strange woman, with strange tastes. You weren’t completely convinced that this strategy would attract the attention of the lady in black, but your fears were beginning to make you desperate, seeing that option as the only one that could save your relationship.

The day passed slowly, in the middle of clumsy rehearsals for your plan, rehearsals that only managed to make you blush.

Was this really a good idea? Would Donna stop thinking you were boring after that?

You couldn't wait and at the same time you wished that moment wouldn't come.

Dinner passed in silence, a romantic silence in the warm candlelight. The wine made you gain courage, and Donna's gaze slowly dispelled your fears. She deserved it, she deserved your attention, she deserved the funny and sexy (Y/N), not the boring loser you thought you were.

“It was delicious, my love,” you said in a tender voice, distorted by the wine, but firm and sure, grabbing her warm hand with yours, holding the penetrating gaze of her bright eye, of that silent lady you were terribly in love with.

“Mm, grazie, tesoro,” Donna said in a soft voice, not wanting to disturb the comfortable silence that was around you. “But maybe… well, maybe you’d like to thank me properly… under the sheets.”

Her words were sensual, eager due to the especially erotic atmosphere you had created with your choice of dress, with your somewhat exaggerated makeup and the exposure of your slightly shameless curves.

“Oh, yes, but, but first…” you interrupted, with a completely different tone of voice, hitting the table awkwardly as you stood up. “I have something to give you.”

“Do you have a gift for me? You’re so sweet, (Y/N),” Donna said while you were guiding her hand away from the table to the small corner where you used to read. “What is it?”

“Um, wait a minute,” you said with a fake smile, finishing the glass of wine you brought with you in one gulp and turning on a lamp that was behind you, creating a perfectly rehearsed effect.

“I'm intrigued,” the lady in black commented, leaning back on the couch with an impatient gaze, running over your trembling curves.

“Can you...? Can you deactivate Angie?” you asked with a broken voice.

Donna looked at the doll and then frowned at you. Your gaze must have been an open book because, moments later, she guided her hand towards the protesting doll, which begged for mercy.

“No, Donna, Don’t...!” the doll's cries disappeared when it fell limp on the floor.

“What are you up to?” the lady asked amused, leaning forward.

The moment had arrived and, somehow, the confidence you had in yourself rose to its highest levels, placing a hand on the brunette's chest, pushing her back.

“Just watch, darling...” you whispered in her ear, pulling away from her kisses seductively, looking at her intensely before beginning your display.

Little by little, your hips began to sway supported by your hands. Your whole body began to dance to invisible music, making slow and sensual movements, playing with your tight dress, with the parts that the clothes allowed you to show.

“(Y/N)…” the brunette sighed, unable to look away from the leg you were caressing, slowly making the fabric disappear, resting your heel on her knee, letting her see a bit of your exaggerated intentions. “Mamma mia, (Y/N), you're not wearing…”

“Shh, silence, my love, you can't talk, just look,” you said with a hoarse voice, getting a little closer, just enough to make it impossible for her to devour you, pushing her back against the sofa again. “Not even touch me.”

“You're cruel,” she whispered, melting with your hypnotic movements, with your sly smile as you turned around and almost dropped on her lap, almost.

With grace, with a skill impossible for you, you rose before you made contact with her, patting her impatient hands, which tried to grab your curves.

“Silenzio, Donna,” you ordered again, resting your hands on either side of her hips, moving yours and bringing your cleavage closer to her reach.

The sound of the fabric being torn by her nails was the sign that this was working, that an lap dance for Donna was all you needed to prove your worth, to show that you weren’t a boring. It wasn’t a bad advice, after all.

Your hands ran over your skin, framing your figure the way hers would if you let yourself be invaded by her touch. You knew it, she knew it, she couldn’t resist the temptation to look at your tight, covered breasts, to watch the indecent path of your hands.

The lady in black, open-mouthed, followed the movement of your fingers, the swaying of your hips, your teasing approaches, the desire you were provoking with your movements, clumsy in your opinion, but extremely sexy for Donna.

Imagining Donna devouring you, running her lips over the skin your fingers grazed was like fuel for your actions, making you moan discreetly, the same way you did when her lips, when her tongue was on your skin.

The zipper of the dress fell under your hands, briefly leaning on her lap, lifting you up to let the fabric of your dress fall in front of her. As if hypnotized, uncomfortable, Donna followed the path of your dress to the floor, slowly raising her gaze, swallowing to assimilate the lack of your underwear.

“Look at you... I'm sure you're dying to take me,” you purred in her ear, running a mischievous hand over her legs, grabbing her thigh, squeezing her skin.

Poor Beneviento could only nod.

“That’s it? Are you that easy?” you joked, moving closer to her lips, brushing them without actually kissing them. “Mm, Donna…”

“I-I don't know what's wrong with you but... Gods, (Y/N)...” the lady moaned when she felt the cold that your hand left on her leg.

You stopped for a moment, feeling the cold, a confusion. Donna was definitely enjoying this new facet but... Would you be pretending to be someone you're not all your life?

The doubts came at the worst moment, when you also succumbed to temptation and kissed her lips, letting yourself fall into her lap. You tried to separate yourself from your doubts with the warmth of her kisses, but you were unsuccessful. Your body caught your attention trembling and her firm hand on your thigh loosened, pushing you away, looking at you with a strange expression.

“(Y/N), you're shaking,” Donna whispered, looking at you with concern. “Amore mio, what's wrong?”

“Nothing, darling, everything is fine... shall we continue?” you said with a sad smile, with an insistence to kiss her that, once again, revealed the poor ability you had for lying.

“No, I can't, tesoro,” she said, picking you up in her arms to sit you next to her, covering you with a blanket. “I see you're uncomfortable.”

“No, I really don't…” you said hastily but thanking her for covering your body.

“What you were doing to me… it's, it's incredible, (Y/N), I, I was really enyoing it but…” the lady commented, lifting your chin while you struggled to keep your dignity intact.

“But? Did I do it wrong?” you asked scared, seeing how her drooling expression changed to concern.

“No, but, I know you didn't want to do it,” she said, caressing your cheek. “I know you, (Y/N), you're not like that.”

“What am I like? Huh? A boring girl who can't be sexy for you? Is that what I am? Tell me, Donna!” you said, taking out your frustration, yelling at poor Donna again, senselessly, for no reason.

“What are you talking about? Boring? I-I don’t understand you,” she said, frowning again, annoyed by your attitude. “You yelled at me again.”

“Yes, I yell because I’m fed up, Donna…” you said in a calmer tone, clenching your fists tightly. “If you want to leave me, just say so.”

“Leave you? Have you gone crazy?” she asked, in a disrespectful, abrupt tone. “Why would you say something like that?”

“Because maybe… I’m not what you’re looking for,” you whispered, letting a tear stain your cheek. “I’ve seen this before, Donna, I saw it with my ex. It didn’t matter how much I smiled, or pretended everything was okay. It wasn’t, nothing was okay.”

“Your ex? What does that stronza have to do with this?” she asked again, grabbing your shoulders so you would look at her face.

“Everything, Donna,” you said firmly, holding her gaze as best you could. “She, she said that I… that I was boring, that's why she left me. I can't stop thinking about the things I did wrong for her to say something like that to me but… I-I guess she was right.”

“No,” Donna said, blinking nervously, holding back her jealousy.

“Yes, I…” you interrupted. “She always wanted to, well, make love anywhere at any time. She pressured me to steal from the craftsmen and to commit mischief that I wasn't ready for. When I agreed, it was all praise, but when I failed… she abandoned me, telling me that I was boring and that I had nothing worthwhile.”

“She was stupid.”

“Maybe, but I see that our relationship is going down the same path. I see that you don't make love to me like before, that I'm not able to please you as you deserve... that I don't give you the life you want, that I bore you.”

“Stop talking nonsense. You don't bore me, you never would,” she said, kicking the coffee table, holding back her rage. “Do you think I want a mean person next to me, a sexual addict? No, (Y/N). I love you because you're calm, good, because life goes by slowly with you, letting me enjoy every moment... I don't think you're boring, for me you're not.”

“Donna,” you sighed, looking into her sincere eye, at the hand that ran over your face, warming it. “Do you really love me... just the way I am?”

“More than my life, tesoro,” she said, grabbing your hands, kissing you tenderly. “I promise I'll tell you every day, every minute. I love you, amore mio…”

“Wow, that's… reassuring,” you said laughing, relieved, feeling the weight of your previous relationship disappear from your shoulders. “I've been stupid…”

“No, don't say that,” Donna said, laughing on your lips, shaking her head as she pulled you closer to her. “By the way, was that why that dance? I have to admit that I liked it, you know?”

“Really? W-Well, at least Dani's advice was of some use,” you said amused, hugging the brunette for a short time, as she abruptly let you go, looking at you with a frown.

“Dani? Daniela Dimitrescu?” she asked hastily, with her eye wide open.

“Um, yes, I…”

“Have you asked Daniela Dimitrescu for advice?! Did she teach you this?” she asked, pointing at you with contempt.

“No, of course not, she just gave me the idea and…” you said, covering yourself better with the blanket. “Donna, where are you going?” you asked, reaching out your hand towards the lady, who was hastily moving away from you.

“I have to make a threat. Stay there, I'm dying to know the end of that dance…”

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

70 notes · View notes

corruptedcaps · 10 months ago

Text

Bad Blonde

This is a repost of as story I made on Wordpress when I migrated over there briefly. Will repost the next parts over the next few days

Lucy and her girlfriend Dora were enjoying a lovely Saturday searching for some unique finds at a variety of thrift stores. Being poor college students this was more of a necessity than anything else but they did get a thrill from finding long forgotten fashions. This didn't get them many friends on campus however as their tastes were mocked for being outdated and weird but they didn't care because they had each other's like minded company.

It was getting late and Lucy was getting tired but Dora wanted to check out one more store she spotted down an alley off the main street. Lucy didn't like the look of the dark empty alley but didn't want to admit she was scared.

"Don't you have work soon? Do we really have time for another store?" Lucy said to Dora trying to dissuade her.

"I have time as long as I go straight there from here. Come on we might discover a real find!" Dora said excitedly already walking into the alley. Lucy begrudgingly followed her.

The little bell above the shop door clanged as they entered the store finding it to be somehow even darker inside than it was outside. A heavily tattooed woman sat behind the counter not acknowledging their presence. The shelves were filled with odd knick knacks and items and most of the clothes were dark and tight looking. Lucy couldn't see a single thing that fit her style. However something did catch her eye.

In the back amongst a line of black wigs on mannequin heads sat a lone blonde wig. It was incredibly straight and smooth like it was made out of spun gold. The blonde colour was like a beacon to Lucy in the sea of dark shades and she felt drawn over to it. Picking it up it felt somehow even softer than she thought it would be and incredibly real.

As a lifelong brunette she had always been curious what she would look like with a different colour although strangely never wondered what blonde would look like. She always associated blonde with the mean girls who bullied her in high school or the spoilt sorority girls in college. Even the mannequin head that the wig had been sitting on looked bitchy. Lucy being the kind and gentle woman that she was, never entertained what being blonde could look like but as she held the wig in her hands she suddenly had a great desire to find out.

Slipping it on felt like putting on a snug glove. With a little tuck here and there the seams of the wig completed disappeared along with any visible signs of her brown locks. Finding a mirror she was almost taken aback by how different she looked. It may have been because the mirror was dirty and it was dark in the store but Lucy could have sworn her skin looked clearer and her lips looked fuller. Her postured shifted slightly the more she looked at her reflection.

With a hand on her hips and her chest sticking out she was suddenly reminded of all the mean blondes she had ever met and it sent a shiver down her spine. Although not out fear but out of pride. She was liking the way she looked.

"You look so good." Said an unfamiliar voice that sounded almost like it was in her head.

"What?" Lucy replied confused.

"I said you look good as a blonde." Dora said, Lucy having failed to realise she had been beside her the whole time. She put the mysterious voice down to Dora and focused on her reflection again.

"I do don't I?" Lucy said stroking the hair as if it were a part of her.

"Go on give me a go." Dora said reaching up to take the wig from her but Lucy reflexively slapped her hand away. A sudden flood of anger surged up in her.

"As if, you'd only ruin it with your big fat head." Lucy hissed at Dora as she looked her up and down like she was disgusted by her very existence. Tears welled up in Dora's eyes and she ran out of the shop. For a fleeting moment Lucy felt triumphant, even pleasure of what she did but then her conscience got the better of her. Ripping off the wig and stuffing it unconsciously into her bag she ran out of the store after Dora. She finally caught up with her girlfriend who was sitting on a bench gently sobbing.

"Honey I'm so sorry, I don't know what came over me. You know I didn't mean it right?" Lucy said sitting down beside her. Dora looked up at her wiping her tears from her eyes.

"Yeah, I guess. Sorry you know I am just a little sensitive about my weight. I probably over reacted, I shouldn't have tried to take the wig from your head." Dora said.

"You don't need to apologise, I was the one being a bitch. Look to make it up to you I'll buy tonights dinner and we can have it when you get back from work." Lucy said putting her arm around her but Dora quickly broke from the embrace and stood.

"Oh shoot I had forgot about work, I better go otherwise they'll dock my pay. I'll see you at home later. Love you." Dora said quickly hurrying away. Lucy blew her a kiss and headed home herself.

Arriving back a little while later Lucy tiredly went into her bedroom. Throwing her backpack on the bed she slumped beside it exhausted. Closing her eyes she knew she could almost fall asleep there and then but knew she should keep to her promise and get food for when Dora would be back. Opening her eyes she was surprised to see the blonde wig from the shop staring right at her. Sitting up she saw the zipper of her bag open and suddenly she remebered.

"Oh damn I must have stuffed it into my bag during all the drama with Dora. The store will be closed by now so I'll have to drop it back tomorrow. Hopefully they don't think I'm some thief." She said taking the wig in her hands and walking over to her mirror.

"It is such a wonderful wig though. Now that it's here it would be a shame if I didn't try it on again." She said to herself as her hands were already guiding it onto her head. Once again she marvelled at how fast it slipped snuggly onto her head and how her own hair seemed to vanish.

"God it does look fantastic on me doesn't it. I look kind of sexy as a blonde. Kind of naughty too." She said letting her hand slip into her panties to touch her increasingly wet pussy. Closing her eyes she started to picture how she would look to be a blonde all the time. Doing so turning herself on more. That's where she heard the voice again.

"You know what would be even hotter? If you opened your eyes, took off those glasses of yours and watched yourself finger yourself." The voice whispered. This time Lucy didn't question where the voice was coming from, instead she did as it suggested. Opening her eyes she removed her glasses and watched as she slid her fingers in and out of her pussy slowly. She didn't have to imagine what it would be like to be blonde, she could just watch herself.

"Oh fuck why is this so much hotter?" Lucy said increasing her pace slightly unable to take her eyes off herself.

“Because it’s so dirty! You love how slutty you look with me on your head.” The wig replied clueing Lucy into where the voice was coming from. Lucy nodded in agreement. She should have been concerned that she was hearing an inanimate object suddenly speak to her but its suggestions were hitting all the right spots too much to care. This was something she would never normally do but with the blonde wig on she felt empowered and mischievous. She felt sexually charged knowing how so unlike her this was.

“Oh fuck you’re right! I look so gorgeous and hawt as a blonde! Almost as good as those sorority bitches.” Lucy said, her voice taking on a bratty whine.

“It’s a good start but let’s make some improvements. When I’m done with you those girls won’t even be in your league.” The wig said.

Immediately Lucy felt her body start to twist, shift & change. All the while she continued to pleasure herself.

First to change was her extra flab around her midsection. She watched in awe as it sunk into her belly. Not only that but she felt little pulses rhythmically hit her stomach. Each new pulse tightened her abdomen making it perfectly toned like that of a gym bunny. This extended out to her legs and arms too giving her a peak physique.

She felt instantly arrogant about her new athletic form as she observed it in the mirror and knew other girls would be jealous of her. She loved the thought of others green with envy about her.

“I feel so strong and flexible. God it’s so intoxicating!” Lucy moaned her hands soaking wet with pleasure.

“We’re only getting started my dear.” The wig said with mischief in its tone. No sooner had it said those words that Lucy felt her body start to lightly vibrate. As it did she felt all hair below her neck start to fall off her body giving her a perfectly smooth form. She felt it most immediately around her pussy. She was so distracted by it that she almost failed to register her skin take on a light tan head to toe.

“Mmmm I’m beach ready looking like this. I can see it now, me sitting looking like a million bucks lounging on a deck chair in designer sunglasses. Guys and girls flocking to my side. Oh god I want it now!” Lucy cried out imagining the tight animal print bikini she would wear while continuing to massage her clit.

“That will be your reality soon just a few more tweaks… oh this one may interrupt you for just a moment.” The wig continued and it certainly did as Lucy felt her nails double in length. She gasped as the fingers inside her suddenly caused extra sensitivity. The gasp quickly turned into a deep cackle. She loved how the new nails felt in and outside of her.

By now her mind was swimming with dirty and bad thoughts. How could it not when she looked every bit the bratty bitch she used to hate. She now knew why hot girls always looked down on her. She felt superior now. She felt herself recoil remembering how she used to look only minutes ago.

There was one thing missing though and somehow Lucy knew the wig wouldn’t give it to her unless she explicitly asked for it.

“I feel like such a hawt little slut now but if I’m to become queen bitch I need one more upgrade and I need it to be big. Make my boobs grow! Give me big perfect tits!” Lucy demanded and the wig obliged.

Lucy moaned as her chest heaved as her two petit breasts grew substantially bigger. The previous slight sag she had completely erased, replaced by gravity defying perfection. She took a moment from touching herself to massage her new tits lovingly.

“Fuck yes! I am perfection! Pathetic Lucy is gone! The mean uber bitch Lucia has been born.” She moaned sticking her fingers back in her pussy, inching towards climax. She looked upon her new body with vain satisfaction. Smirking she thought about how as Lucy she would shrink into the shadows in the presence of such beauty but as Lucia she would never be in dark anymore. Others would shrink from her.

“When you cum you’ll release enough endorphins to allow me to burrow deep into your head. You’ll make the bitch queen Lucia permanent. No one will stand in your way. You’ll become the meanest, hottest bully in town and your first victim can be that pitiful girlfriend of yours.” The wig said with a long cold laugh inside Lucia’s mind. However something didn’t feel right. She wanted this power so much but could she sacrifice her relationship to have it?

“No Dora can be left out of this, she is weak & ugly but meaningless. I won’t bully her.” Lucia said ever slightly slowing her pace as her conscience started to intrude.

“Don’t you see? She’s holding you back from achieving greatness! No one is above your power and you must embrace that! You have to destroy everything Lucy had if you are to become Lucia. Perhaps a little more incentive is needed.” The wig hissed and Lucia felt her tits grow even more, her waist further clenched and her butt grew out. Lucia moaned as the pleasure became unbelievable.

“Mmm maybe you’re right, that loser is standing in my way of achieving what I deserve! I need to drop her like the heavy weight that she is. No! What am I saying? She’s the love of my life and you’re evil! You’ve turned me into a cruel and egotistical narcissistic. I have to stop this now!” Lucia yelled reaching up to remove the wig.

The wig increased the changes, her face became steely cold, her nails even longer, it even mustered enough dark magic to change Lucia’s clothes into something tight and form fitting. Lucia smirked at how gorgeous she was, how powerful she had become but it was all in vain as she used all her willpower to rip the wig off.

Once the wig was off her body reverted back to her normal unremarkable form. Lucy had returned. However she instantly felt like she was in withdrawal. The thoughts of being Lucia lingered in her mind like an itch she couldn’t scratch. She needed to get the wig out of there.

Carefully rolling it up in a garbage bag she stuffed it into their freezer for the time being. As much as she wanted to get rid of it she just couldn’t compel herself to do it. Heading to bed she hoped that by the morning the hunger to wear it would subside…

To be continued…

#f2f #corruption #bitchification #magic #evil bitch #evil wig #corrupted wig #corrupted hair #cc2024

174 notes · View notes