#donna x femOc

[shadowbly94]

Like one of your flowers

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem, gardener! Reader

Warnings: smut (mostly implied), fluff, slightly possessive Donna, tension

Word count: 3,414

Summary: You like gardening, taking care of the flowers, but there is one of them out of your reach, the most beautiful flower...

N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes. Requests are open, I love you all :))))

You always thought that choosing a profession like gardening was crazy in a place like that. The snow made your work a real challenge. Maybe that's why you found it exciting, since there were nothing you could do in that village to feel anything but constant boredom.

Luckily, you managed to tame the snow, the unexpected blizzards and the merciless cold, making the plants you cared for, the envy of your neighbors.

That curious ability and passion for flowers led you to find a real job, going from selling flowers in a cabin in the village to being the gardener of one of the most important inhabitants of the place.

If someone asked you what it was like to work for Donna Beneviento, all you could answer was: calm.

In all the time you had been tending her garden, she had never bothered to speak to you.

Sometimes she would come to where you were, sometimes with some flowers she wanted you to plant, sometimes just to look at you in silence, as if she wanted to check that you were really doing your job the way she wanted.

No one had generated that curiosity in you like Donna. Always covered by that black veil, always silent, polite, patient, bending down to check the love and delicacy you used on each and every one of the flowers on the estate.

You naturally knew where you were, you knew you were walking through difficult terrain. Any wrong step and you would end up like all those villagers the legends talked about, those who never returned from that place.

Despite that, her sad, black, subtle and silent figure caught your attention from the first moment.

How could you be attracted to someone so mysterious? How could you feel anything for a woman you've never even seen her face?

At first you thought that every time your heart decided to beat faster when she was around, it was because of those plants, the ones you had to be especially careful with, and that they were the part of your job that really scared you.  You had seen for yourself what Donna was capable of doing to anyone who approached them.

“Good afternoon, Donna,” you said politely as you saw that mourning figure pass by you with an elegant step. “How was the meeting?”

The lady turned briefly to look at you, Angie in her arms. She stopped as if she finally wanted to say something to you, but it was just for an instant. With a grim creak, the door opened and the woman was lost again in the darkness.

“Very well, thank you very much for asking,” you answered yourself, with an ironic tone. “Oh, how beautiful the garden is, you’re doing an excellent work. Oh, thank you very much, Donna, it's a pleasure…”

You shook your head as you scoffed at her silence. Over time you had become addicted to checking her routines, to trying to figure out when she was going to leave the house, when she was going to go to where you were.

“I don't know why I insist,” you murmured, cutting away the imperfections of one of the flowers.

And so, in silence, you continued your work, glancing at the door of that house from time to time, imagining that she would come out, even if it was just to stand and looking at you in silence.

“You should find a real girlfriend,” you advised yourself in a low voice. “You are wasting your time. She is completely out of your reach...”

“What is out of your reach, you stupid fool?!” A strident voice abruptly brought you out of your thoughts. The Angie doll had managed to camouflage in the bushes and appear right in front of you, making you sit on the ground with a thud.

“Ah!” You screamed in shock, hiding a wave of insults that passed through your mind. “Damn…”

“Stupid, stupid!” the puppet screeched mockingly, dancing around you.

“Ouch...” you hissed in pain as you made an effort to get up. A throbbing pain in your hand made you shake your head. A trickle of blood ran down the sleeve of your shirt, wetting it in the process.

Due to the scare, the tool with which you fixed the imperfections of the flowers had cut your skin.

“Shit...” You whispered, covering the wound with the scarf you used to wear around your neck. It wasn't a very serious cut.

“You're bleeding, you clumsy clumsy!” Angie mocked, approaching your injured hand.

You growled, trying to suppress the pain and the desire to send that impertinent doll flying. But your instincts and thirst for revenge could wait as the dark creak of the door interrupted your thoughts.

Donna left her house, walking slowly towards you, probably upset by your agonized and slightly exaggerated scream.

“It’s, it's nothing,” you said, noticing how the burning of your wound slowly traveled to your cheeks as the lady approached you with an accelerated pace.

Gently, she reached out for your wrist, subtly forcing you to show her the wound. You felt a shiver as you felt her delicate fingers on your skin, as you felt her breathing closer than you had ever felt. Not even the pain from that wound could stop your body from shaking when Donna touched you.

Raising her gaze to yours, still holding your injured hand, she pulled you along, dragging you into the house.

“No, nothing's wrong, really,” you said apologetically, looking around that house, that portrait of a beautiful woman that made you blink several times. If it was her, she was even more beautiful than you thought.

“Come, let's heal you,” a hoarse voice said, soft but barely perceptible, muffled by your footsteps on the wood.

“I...” You couldn't say anything after that whisper, after that fine thread of voice that came from her lips.

You followed Donna towards what looked like the kitchen, going down that old elevator, trying not to forget every corner of that place, that house where the woman you liked so much lived.

“Sit down,” she whispered again, this time confirming that it was indeed her who had spoken moments before. A peculiar situation like no other.

When she grabbed something similar to a first aid kit, she sat on a stool, right in front of you, making your breathing even more difficult.

“Oh, shit…” you hissed as the disinfectant touched your wound, making it burn with pain. Donna paused, looking at you through her veil. You didn't know if she was upset by your childish reaction, or she was giving you time to get used to the sting. “I, I'm sorry.”

After that apology, she continued cleaning your wound. Her touch was delicate, one of her hands held yours so it wouldn't move; the other moved the cotton ball along your wound. In silence, always in silence. Silence that began to fall on your shoulders like a heavy weight, making the situation even tenser.

“Ahem…” you cleared your throat, hoping to get her attention. You were always a bit cheeky. “Well, do you like cooking?” You asked timidly, looking at that dark kitchen.

Donna looked up, but immediately lowered her gaze. She didn't even nod or move her head to answer you.

That should be enough to tell you to shut your mouth but… You weren't like that.

“The truth is I don’t like to. I cook to survive, you know. Maybe if I had a kitchen as big as yours I would see it differently,” you commented, not being able to avoid that tremor in your words, that nervousness that made you move your injured hand, making Donna sigh tiredly.

“Don't move,” she said with a stern tone, clearer due to the closeness she had with you. Your corners turned up a bit. Once you had heard her speak, you didn't want to stop doing it.

“I'm sorry,” you said with a whisper, ducking your head as you bit your lip to suppress the sting.

“Yes, I like cooking,” she said after a few seconds of overwhelming tranquility.

You raised your eyebrows and the smile became more evident on your face. Well, at least that was something resembling a conversation.

“Oh, great, great,” you said, sighing melancholy, noticing that the irrational attraction you felt for her was only growing. “Hey, I like your accent, where are you from?”

Again, there was no response, just a subtle, quick glance, before the lady in black reached for some bandages, ignoring your curiosity. You didn't know to what extent you could continue with your comments.

The white cloths wrapped around your wound, making it disappear. It was the signal to tell you that the pathetic conversation was ending. You could have given up, said thank you, and gone home. You didn’t do it.

“Thank you so much. You didn't need to...” You whispered, looking at Donna out of the corner of your eye as she picked up the first aid kit. She stopped and shook her head, sitting back down in that chair, much to your surprise.

Nothing, not a word, not a sigh for a few seconds. She, like always when she came over when you were working, remained silent, watching you.

“So… what else do you like to do? Do you have any hobbies?” You asked without meaning to, squeezing your eyes tightly when you realized that the words were coming out of your mouth on their own.

There was no answer.

“Well, I... I should go,” you said, getting up from your chair, knowing that staying there was a bad idea for your heart rate and you were starting to act the same way you did when one of the girls in the village showed some interest in you.

“I like looking at you,” Donna whispered, standing up just as you were going to cross the door, making you stay glued to the floor.

“Um... I... I...” That was all you managed to say as her footsteps sounded closer and closer, while she got closer and closer to you.

“You treat the flowers in a delicate way, as they deserve. I like looking at you when you do it,” Donna said when she was just a few inches away.

“Oh, well, I... It's my job, you know,” you stammered as her hands grabbed your waist, pulling your trembling body. “Do you like flowers? Oh, what a stupid question... Of course you like them. Otherwise you wouldn't need a gardener. You're probably thinking I'm stupid and...”

A soft laugh came from her black veil, as her fingers rested on your lips to silence you.

“Do you always talk so much?” She asked amused, wrapping her hands around your neck, as if she somehow knew she could do it, as if she knew you were looking forward to it.

“Only...Only when I'm nervous,” you whispered embarrassed, letting your hands go to her waist on their own, caressing the fabric of her dress.

“Are you nervous? Why?” The woman in black wanted to know, lowering her arms, as if something had offended her.

“Well, I'm not used to having you so close to me,” you admitted in a barely perceptible voice.

“I'm sorry,” she said, pulling away immediately with a frightened gasp.

“No, no, wait, wait Donna...” You said hastily, grabbing her wrist so she wouldn't move further away from you. “I… I want to have you close to me.”

She turned around slowly, doubtfully, as if she had also regretted her words, her gestures...

“I shouldn't have behaved like that, I’m sorry,” she whispered, slipping out of your grip and walking away even further.

You were so close to her, so close to knowing how much you were in love with her... And because of your poor choice of words, you had lost the opportunity. Anger began to burn inside you, as well as a confused feeling and a longing that became unbearable.

“Don't apologize, please,” you pleaded, taking a few steps closer, making her step back accordingly.

“I didn't want to make you feel uncomfortable,” she said, looking away from you, gripping her hands tightly, with her knuckles white from the pressure.

“I'll only feel uncomfortable if you move further away...” You sighed, your voice shaking and your face burning with embarrassment at your words.

“You're not being honest,” she said with a serious tone, as if suddenly something in her head had misinterpreted things. “You're scared, you're shaking. You're scared of me.”

“No, that's not true... The only thing I'm afraid of is that a whole day goes by without you coming to see me when I work, of looking at you and not knowing if when I do it, you look at me too, if you feel... If you feel …” You said with serious problems so that the words were understandable.

Donna moved closer again, until her hands reached your face. Not in a loving or seductive way, more like she was searching in your features the dark shadow of lies.

“Do you feel something about me?” She asked, relaxing the nervousness in her voice.

“I don't know,” you said with eyes full of tears caused by that discomfort so desired, by that encounter you dreamed about every night. “What do you feel?”

“I want to kiss you,” she whispered in your ear, running her hands over your arms and chest. “I'm afraid of you don't wanting to and I’m afraid of losing control if you refuse.”

“I could never refuse,” you murmured, ignoring the incipient darkness of that phrase, eclipsed by the black fabric of her veil brushing your lips.

“Close your eyes, tesoro,” she asked you in a whisper, in an anxious but fearful murmur at the same time.

“Tesoro?” You asked amused, obeying instantly.

Donna moved, laughing at your absurd question, moving the black fabric away from her face, making it brush against your skin moments before her lips crashed onto yours softly, with a burning slowness, wanting to enjoy the kiss that you didn't know you wanted so much.

Your hands were faster than your thoughts, cupping her face between them, touching the soft skin that she insisted on hiding. Donna didn't seem to care. She was too busy kissing you, tasting your lips, gently pulling on them, moving closer to your body.

When the kiss stopped, you made a mistake. You opened your eyes.

The sight of her beauty revealed to you made you remain enthralled, staring at her face, studying each of her features, the scar you didn’t know that existed, and that you didn't give any importance to. Nothing could overshadow the beauty of Donna Beneviento. Not one, not even a thousand scars.

Donna, nervous, looked for the black cloth with her hands, with her only eye wide open, terrified because you had discovered her secret.

Your sure and heroic hand stopped her from covering herself again as a melancholic expression took over your face.

“Stop, stop looking at me...” she said nervously, fighting with your hand, which prevented her from covering.

 “No,” you said, shaking your head. “I would never have imagined it”

“What, how horrible am I? Please, let me cover my face,” she said, desperate because your grip did not allow her to fulfill her wish.

“I had never imagined that among all the flowers in the world, you were the most beautiful” you whispered, leaning towards her, kissing her before she said one more stupid thing about her looking.

“You can't be serious,” Donna whispered, running her hand over your back, letting your kisses move across her face, down her neck, making your words gain strength, making them the only thing she could remember.

Silence reigned again in the old house. It wasn't uncomfortable, or heavy, it was a burning silence, interrupted by the sound of kisses, by your steps running along the wood, by the noise your back made when it hit the rickety wall.

Donna no longer protested. She no longer cared. She just kissed you. She caressed you as she guided you towards an unknown place, towards the insides of her bedroom.

Her hands roamed free, unbuttoning, reaching into your clothes, eager for contact, to feel the naked skin beneath her touch.

You couldn't think, only feel. Feel the buttons of her black dress giving out as your fingers attacked them. Feel the mattress under your back, her hips on yours. Words were never so unnecessary as in that moment, the moment when your clothes fell to the floor, when your hands cleared the way to her skin, to her breasts, to her legs, to her.

“Be nice with me, please,” she gasped, breaking the silence unexpectedly, with your hand running up her now bare leg, your kisses trailing down her belly.

“I couldn't be any other way,” you responded, delicately kissing every corner of her skin, now without clothes, trying not to lose yourself in the beauty of her body, to concentrate on making her feel loved, to confirm to yourself that was love what you felt.

I think I love you. That phrase passed through your mind as you ran your tongue through that forbidden place, causing her moans, words that you didn't understand, followed by a tight grip on your hair, begging with the movements of her body to you to continue, to you to never stop. Oh no, you weren't going to stop, you could have been like this forever.

Her movements matched yours, your hands grabbed her skin, trying not to let desire sink your nails into her flesh, sighing against her body, caressing her from time to time, gradually increasing the rhythm of her hips.

When your kisses finally did their job and her body arched with a fiery growl, your time came, it was time to lie down on the bed and enjoy her touch, to discover if Lady Beneviento was as alone as people said.

Again, there were no words, only curiosity in your gaze, only the perfect vision of having her on top of you, kissing one breast, the other, caressing them as if instead of the gardener, you were a flower. You wondered if you were just as delicate with her, if your mastery in dealing with delicate beings had paled under the desire to make love with the woman you loved so much.

Her soft, pale, trembling hands communicated to you more than any words. The contrast with the cold of her skin and the heat of your body was overwhelming, unique, feeling how she moved inside you, how she curved when she had to, while your ears received more words that you didn't understand.

You pulled hard on the sheets, desperately looking for a place to leave your hands, which moved erratically, pulling the fabric, running over her face, hugging her as if that had been nothing but a dream. You wanted to feel her even more, you wanted her to never stop moving, caressing you between your legs with that delicacy.

It didn't take long for you to let yourself go, to surrender to her almost miraculous touch. You didn't know how much time had passed, but for you it had been no more than a moment, one of those moments when time seemed to go crazy and move faster and faster.

“I want you to stay with me,” Donna whispered, caressing your head, which was resting on her bare chest, pretending to feel weak, pretending to be a defenseless being, eager for caresses, eager for her caresses.

“I'm in no hurry to go home,” you whispered, snuggling closer, letting her hug comfort you, closing your eyes to wish that her hot, cold body would never leave yours, that your legs would remain entwined forever.

“I don't want you to go home,” she corrected you, stopping her caresses, causing you to moan childishly and desperately.

“I don't want to go home,” you repeated like an automaton, emphasizing the truth of your words.

“I want you to take care of me like one of your flowers,” she asked, letting out a fearful sigh, afraid of your response, but, above all, of her reaction to not being what she expected.

“I could never take care of you like one of my flowers,” you said, gritting your teeth, causing her to move your head so you could look at her. Her expression was serious, impatient, almost dominant. “No flower can compare to you.”

[shadowbly94]

I want to hate you

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem! Reader

Warnings: implied smut, manipulative Donna, dark themes, reader POV

Word count: 1,318

Summary: Please, let me hate you...

N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes. Requests are open, I love you all :))))

Tell me why. Tell me why I think my misfortune has been my luck. I ask myself this every day, every hour I spend in this dark, cold place. I look at your portrait and wonder why I am unable to fear you.

You were the one who chose me, the one who decided that I would stay with you in that strange trial. Did you save me from the clutches of death?

Seeing you as my savior would at least give me a reason to feel the things I feel. You’re always so quiet, so calm. Your silent kindness tortures me, consumes me. Do you want me to be afraid of you, Donna? Scare me.

Don't look at me as if you see a divine creature. Stop caressing me as if I could break if your hands press my skin hard. If you want to scare me, stop being nice.

But is that what you want? Do you want to scare me? Am I a game to you? A hobby? Tell me what I’m. Tell me what you have seen in me to save me.

My words are useless. My questions never get answers beyond a sigh or a subtle movement of your body. Maybe not even you, Donna Beneviento, know what you really want from me.

At first, just silence, then, sighs and your hoarse voice breaking the tranquility of my heart. You were supposed to fear me. I was supposed to respect you. I never did, I never feared you.

Not even the day you took me by the hand to your bedroom I felt the slightest fright. Your kisses don't scare me, they drive me crazy.

You never gave me an explanation. I never asked you for it, however. Maybe I was actually scared, that the sight of your uncovered face made me lose my mind. That special beauty made me freeze.

You whisper things to me that I don't understand. You could insult me if you wanted. No matter how much I try to understand you. Having you speaking in my ear blurs my reason. Do you say I'm beautiful? Are you laughing at me for not being able to deny you even one of your kisses? What are you doing with me, Donna?

“I need to know why,” I told you one rainy afternoon, interrupting your peaceful tranquility. To break the vision of your relaxed figure pains me.

Nothing. Silence, as always, was your only response.

I would prefer any other response to your eternal silence. I would prefer that you explain to me what you have done to me. Why I want to have you close to me. Why I want your hand to grab mine and take me with you.

“I love you...” I whispered one of those nights while your body moved on top of mine. Your skin rubbing against mine, your lips, your hands running through the most forbidden corners of my body, everything stopped when I said those stupid words.

Your gaze returned to mine. I can't, damn it. I'm not even able to tell the way you were looking at me. Were you amused by my confession? Did it make you angry?

You simply laughed, moving back down to my neck, kissing it as always, as tears ran down my cheeks.

I don't know why I was crying, maybe because of the shame of feeling those things, the shame of loving you when I shouldn't. I know I shouldn't.

You are not my girlfriend, my lover, my wife. No, Donna, you're nothing like that. You are the woman who holds me captive.

But am I really captive?

Once you fell asleep, peacefully next to me, naked, defenseless. I got up to try to escape, to take advantage of the fatigue that I caused you. The door was open, Angie was not there, there was nothing stopping me from escaping, except one thing: your soft hands gently grabbing my waist, taking me by surprise. Were you testing me? Were you pretending to sleep?

“I love you...” You whispered in my ear, brushing my hair away with that damn delicacy of yours.

My body tensed up immediately. The snowy landscape that was presented as my path to freedom became darker with those words, with your chin resting on my shoulder. I'm done. Surely it really wasn't a good idea to run out of there, or that's what my deranged mind used as an excuse to close the door and forget about freedom.

You laughed in my ear, like you knew exactly that this strategy was going to work. It worked, Donna, now I don't want to hear you say anything other than those words.

I wish I was really scared, I wish you terrified me... I wish I could have an excuse to want to leave, to feel disgusted when you make love to me. But no, you don't want to scare me.

I wish I didn't love you, want you, not to moan when you touch me, not to kiss you while you whisper to me, but I can't stop doing it. I need to be here, by your side, not abandon you, not sleep another night without your body hugging mine.

You don't seem to realize how much I suffer for loving you. This is wrong, it shouldn't be like this, I shouldn't smile when I see you. I shouldn't let you smile back at me. But, above all, I shouldn't want you to tell me what I’m to you.

“Just a toy, “a hobby,” “a cheap whore to have fun with for a while,” any of those answers would calm my soul. If it were only that for you, I would have a reason to fight for my freedom. But I know that, even with your silence refusing to give me an answer, it’s not the case.

I know you love me, or so I want to believe. I want to believe that when you say it, the language is not important, you mean it. But what kind of love is that?

It doesn't matter too much. I can see it in your eyes, in your caresses. You take care of me, I know you do. I know you care about me, that the flowers you leave at my door are gifts for me. Are they really? Why worry about an outsider like me? You could have whoever you wanted. If sex is the only thing you want, I'm sure you can get it. After all, you are a fearsome and powerful lord.

“I don't want to be alone,” you finally answered, after I stopped kissing you, after my hand stopped going up your leg, causing you to gasp desperately.

“Why me? You could have whoever you wanted,” I asked, relaxing my posture, sitting on the bed and letting the cold make my hot body tremble.

“I want you,” you said, approaching me again, kissing me without giving me any further explanation.

It was the most I knew of your intentions.

It doesn't matter too much anymore. A long time ago I decided that I would not leave that place. I would stay by your side even if it meant abandoning everything that awaited me at home, all those people who wondered where I was, why I had not returned from my trip.

Deep down in my heart, I will always wish that you would do something bad, anything. Hit me, torture me, insult me. Come on, Donna, let me hate you. Let me stop loving you so much, cause I don't want to escape.

Don't look at me that way. Stop kissing me, giving me pleasure, making me feel loved like I've never felt before.

Please scare me, make me want to kill you, make me not afraid of leaving, make that fear of loneliness disappear. Make me able to live without you.

[shadowbly94]

What is love?

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem Maid! Reader

Warnings: Fluff, insecurities, shyness

Word count: 2,945 (A bit long maybe?)

Summary: You didn't expect to have that conversation with her...

N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes. So... I'm getting addicted to write these things... You can make requests if you want. I hope you like it. I love you all!! :)))

You didn't know how long you had been reading, but the sting in your eyes said quite a while.

With a listless sigh, you closed the book, deciding that enough was enough. As you lowered it into your lap, a terrifying sight stood before you.

“Ah!” you shouted as you looked into those cold porcelain eyes. The Angie doll was looking at you, too close. Although you had been working in that house for several months, you still hadn't gotten used to her presence.

“Hello, hello, you useless maid. Do you know what time it is?” The doll crooned, with her hands on her hips.

“Miss Angie,” you said, catching your breath, your heart beating too fast due to fright. “No, I, I'm sorry.”

“It's Donna's tea time, stupid!” she screeched, pointing at an old wall clock.

You sighed, closing your eyes. You were so distracted by the book that you hadn't realized what time it was. It's not that Donna was strict with schedules, but you had always tried to do your maid duties as efficiently as possible.

“I'm sorry, I'm so sorry...” You said, getting up from the couch.

“Less apologies and more tea, stupid,” Angie snapped at you, disappearing from your sight, luckily.

“Shit...” you protested, walking quickly towards the elevator.

Working at the Beneviento estate was a strange opportunity. The entire village feared Mother Miranda's powerful lords, but you... You were never afraid of them, or at least, not of all of them.

Donna Beneviento was a strange woman, with problems. Still, you found very easy to work for her. She was kind in her own way, discreet, silent... It was the complete opposite of what you knew about the other lords. You knew there was something dangerous about her, but you never had a chance to see it for yourself. Maybe you were blind, as you slowly began to develop a curious affection for the woman in black. Calling it affection was just fooling yourself.

“Excuse me, my lady...” You whispered knocking on the the workshop doors, where she worked until it was almost dark.

“Come in,” a hoarse but soft voice spoke to you from the other side. You still found difficult to get used to her voice. Over time, it seemed like Donna was confident enough to talk to you directly. You cursed the day she did it. Your attraction to her only increased.

“I know I'm late, forgive me, my lady, here's you tea,” you said kindly, entering the workshop with trembling legs.

“It's okay,” she responded, with her gaze fixed on a porcelain head, indicating where you should leave the tray.

You nodded, approaching her cautiously, head bowed in apology.

“Where is your cup?” She asked as she looked at the tray, carefully picking up the almost boiling liquid.

You opened your eyes, confused.

“My cup?” You asked automatically, still nervous.

Donna simply nodded.

“Don't you feel like having tea with me?” Donna asked in a lower tone, putting her cup back on the table.

You opened your eyes surprised by the unusual request. In all the time you had been there, you had never seen her eat, or drink. You assumed it was because of that stupid veil that covered her face.

Despite the strangeness of that offer, you had no choice but to nod, noticing a small knot in your stomach.

“I... Well... Yes, yes of course,” you stammered, confused.

“You don't have to do it if you don't want to,” the doll maker said quietly, looking away from you with disappointment.

“Oh, no, no.  I would like to,” you said, affirming your shameful desire to share a cup of tea with her. If it were only a cup of tea you'd like to share...

“Va bene,” Donna whispered, “Don't worry, I'll wait for you.”

Maybe it wasn't a good idea to feel the things you felt towards that strange woman. Your nervousness increased as you got closer to her, as she got closer to you.

After making some tea for yourself, you headed back to the workshop, avoiding Angie along the way. Surely with that irritating doll it would be impossible to maintain a conversation, an event that was strange, but increasingly frequent.

“Is it to your liking?” You asked when the woman in black moved the veil a bit away from her face to take a sip from her cup. She nodded slightly.

“It is, thank you very much,” was her brief response.

You didn't know exactly what made you think you were actually going to have a conversation. It was ten minutes of overwhelming and strange silence. If you wanted to talk to her, you should be the one to do it. You had known that for a long time.

“Well...” you said with a dry throat, clearing it to get her attention.

Donna placed the paintbrush on the table, slowly turning her head towards you.

“I... I'm sorry, I'm sorry for the delay,” you said apologetically, hoping that she would respond with words and not with a shy gesture like she usually did.

Much to your dismay, Donna simply shook her head, returning to the porcelain.

“Well, it's just... It's just... I was reading,” you insisted. An irresponsible act on your part, you didn't know what the limit of her patience was, or if you had even begun to exhaust it.

Unmoved by your pathetic attempt to speak, the lady in black nodded with a tired sigh. It would be better to keep your mouth shut.

The minutes passed as if they were hours. Your gaze wandered around the sinister workshop while your legs had serious problems preventing themselves from shaking due to nerves.

After the tea resting on the table was almost frozen, you decided that the best thing to do was to get up and get on with another of your tasks. But just as you were going to do it, Donna gasped in satisfaction, staring intently at the porcelain head.

“Do you like it?” The lady asked, showing you her recently finished work.

“It’s awesome, my lady,” you responded, looking at the sinister head. Donna nodded, placing her work delicately on the table and sighing again.

“You said you were reading...” Donna murmured, turning slightly to look at you.

“Oh, I... Yes...” you said stammering, remembering that you were the one who started that conversation, even though it was almost an hour ago. “I'm really sorry, thank goodness Angie…”

“What were you reading?” She asked, interrupting your absurd apologies.

“Well... I was reading Pride and Prejudice” you responded shyly. It seemed like you were going to have that conversation.

Donna nodded with a murmur, taking another sip of her nearly iced tea. You, as a polite gesture, looked away when she moved her veil. You had an unbearable desire to see what that black cloth was hiding, but you didn't know what the consequences of your reckless curiosity were.

“You always read those kind of books,” she whispered, putting the cup back on the table.

“What do you mean, Lady Beneviento?” You asked, noticing the familiar heat of your face as it blushed.

“Donna,” she said briefly, “Don't call me that. I don't like it.”

You gulped at the harsh tone lacking her usual kindness.

“I'm sorry, I didn't know, Lad... Donna,” you apologized, feeling more and more embarrassed.

“I always see you reading romance books, why?” The lady asked, blatantly ignoring your apologies. She may have been a kind woman, but she was a certainly complicated one too. It was difficult to know how to treat her. Maybe not talking would have been a better idea.

“Well, I like romance,” you said, pretending to have a normal tone, pretending that you weren't eager to run out of there and hide under the covers of your bed. “I like love stories.”

She nodded slowly, looking down at her cup of tea.

“Have you ever been in love?” She asked just as you took a sip of your tea to hide the blush that was more than evident on your face.

“What? Oh, I, I…” you stammered, choking on the liquid, coughing embarrassingly.

“Does the question bother you?” the lady in black questioned, tilting her head curiously. “You don't have to answer.”

“No, it doesn't bother me,” you said, perhaps too abruptly. “Of course, I have been in love.”

Donna nodded again, placing her hands in her lap, as if she expected a longer answer. One that you didn't have or rather, that you didn't want to talk about.

“How did you feel?” She continued asking, like a curious child, as if this topic were a mystery to her. You knew she was reclusive, almost a hermit, but you didn't expect curiosity about something so common.

You scratched the back of your neck, looking for somewhere to look that wasn't that black veil, a way to go back in time to politely decline the request to have tea with her.

“Well... I...” You murmured, not sure of the answer, or the question. “I, I felt... Fine, I guess. You know what love is like,” you said shyly, assuming that you were not explaining something that was incomprehensible to her.

“No, I don’t know. That's why I'm asking you,” Donna responded with a serious, expectant tone.

You opened your eyes and subtly shook your head, frowning at that unexpected confession.

“You have never been in love?” You asked, letting curiosity speak for you, pushing aside the danger signals that your mind was sending you.

“No,” Donna answered softly, relaxing her posture.

“Oh, well... I, I'm sorry,” you said with a voice choked with nervousness, feeling scared for the first time in that house.

“Why are you sorry?” She asked, making you raise your head again.

“Well... You know... Love is a good thing. You feel alive, happy. You believe that you are capable of moving the world if the person you love asks you to. It's a nice feeling,” you explained, letting the trembling of your legs ease your nerves.

“Nice...” she repeated, looking away from you, sighing with a certain melancholy.

“Yes, well... Maybe not so nice at first. Your hands shake, your stomach hurts, your heart races... It's almost like you're sick. Plus, you do things you would never do,” you continued explaining, losing a bit of your embarrassment.

It wasn't the conversation you were hoping to have.

“What kind of things?” the lady in black asked, nervously playing with her hands. Was she embarrassed too?

“Well... I was dating a girl from the village some time ago,” you began to tell, looking up, unable to prevent a smile from appearing on your face as you remembered old times. “Once I sneaked into her house through one of the roof windows. I almost broke my legs.”

“Through the window? What nonsense. Why didn't you use the door?” Donna commented with a curious tone.

 “Well, because her parents were in the house,” you said amused, shrugging your shoulders. “That's what I mean. When you're in love you do that kind of stupid things.”

“Love makes you stupid then,” she said. It wasn't a question. It was a surprisingly accurate statement.

“Well yes, you're right,” you sighed, looking at your already empty cup of tea. “You're right…”

Donna nodded, shifting in her chair. What was the reason for this sudden curiosity? You didn’t know. You were surprised that a woman like her, cultured, intelligent and pleasant, never had any kind of suitor.

“But don't worry, surely one day a man who makes you feel those things will appear in your life. Then I'm sure you will underestand what I mean,” you said, ending that conversation, sighing reluctantly, hoping deep in your soul for an answer that was unthinkable for her.

“No,” she said, making you fall back into the chair, trembling from that unexpected response. “I don't want to become stupid for a man.”

You couldn't help but laugh softly at that statement, which unleashed a lot of questions in your mind, as well as an incipient need for Donna to elaborate on those words.

“Well, it doesn't have to be a man,” you said carefully, studying each of her subtle movements.

“That girl you were talking about... What did you feel when you were close to her? I mean, apart from the tremors and the pain in the stomach,” she asked, assuming that you would stay with her for a while longer, with that uncomfortable but curious conversation.

“Oh, well... These things don't really matter. I remember that we used to walk in the moonlight, hand in hand...” You said nostalgically, remembering that first love. “The moment our fingers intertwined, I felt like my chest was going to burst. Look, that way…”

Without thinking, being lost in your memories, you acted in the most stupid way possible, reaching out your hand towards hers, removing it from her lap, taking it in yours elegantly, caressing it, imitating the gesture with it and intertwining your fingers.

Donna didn't move, she didn't say anything, only a nervous breath came out of her veil. You, absorbed in the stupidity you had just committed, remained paralyzed, breathless, voiceless and unable to find an explanation for that stupid act.

“I'm so sorry,” you said, quickly removing your hand. Her stance remained firm, letting her hand slowly lower back into her lap. “I didn't mean to…”

Donna moved abruptly now, taking your sweaty hand again, looking at it curiously.

“Your hands are shaking,” she said almost in a whisper, intertwining your fingers again. “Are you in love?”

You shook your head, nervous, scared. You had made a terrible mistake. Unintentionally, your own words turned against you

You couldn't respond. You weren't able to utter a single word.

“I haven't stopped wondering why you were always on my mind, on my thoughts,” Donna said, without letting your hand go, without giving importance to the fact that the answer to her question had already materialized in your scared and embarrassed expression.  “I dream of you, I always dream of you... I see you all the time, even if you are not in front of me, I want, I want to be by your side, I want to hear you talk, I want to get lost in your eyes. I was wondering if this is love.”

“Donna...” You sighed at that unexpected statement, at that explanation that I was innocently looking for in those strange questions. “I…”

“I think I'm in love with you,” Donna confessed, lowering her head, evidencing the subtle tremor of her hand in yours, caressing every inch of your skin with her delicate fingers.

“I think I’m too,” you whispered back, avoiding looking at that horrible veil, despising the black fabric that prevented you from seeing her gaze when she said those words.

“Do you also think about me?  Do you dream of me?” She asked, leaning towards you, gripping your hand tighter, almost causing you pain. “Please, don’t lie to me.”

“I'm not lying. I think about you all the time, Donna,” you said, also approaching her.

“What should we do then?” She asked, bringing her other hand to your face, caressing it erratically.

“I don't know,” you said, smiling, not quite believing her words, what she said she felt. “I… I think a kiss would be nice.”

“I've never kissed anyone,” Donna said, embarrassed, stepping back. “Besides, I can't take off my veil.”

“Yes you can, Donna. I don't care what you look like,” you said, grabbing her hands as a sign of support.

“You'll care,” she said, pushing them away from you, showing a sudden and habitual change of mood.

“No, I won't, I promise you,” you insisted, carefully bringing your hands to her face, grabbing the horrible black fabric that covered it.

Donna started, pushing your hands away roughly, but holding back, squeezing them tightly on either side of her hips.

“I... I’ll do it myself," she said with a weak voice, trying to calm herself.

“You're beautiful, Donna...” you sighed when you saw her face, a familiar face, identical to the one in the portrait on the stairs. With a terrible flaw, but not something that would hide or diminish her beauty. She was just like you imagined her in your dreams, so beautiful and so fragile. She was just perfect.

“That’s not true, I'm, I'm horrible,” Donna said, looking away from you, looking for the black cloth that she herself dropped to the floor.

You stopped her from retrieving it, gently grabbing her wrists.

“Come here, Donna, let me prove my words with actions,” you whispered tenderly, almost erotically, framing her face with her hands as you pulled her closer, closer to you.

Your lips rested slowly on hers, caressing them gently, kissing her the way she deserved, slowly, carefully, letting her know what a love kiss really was.

“What do you think?” You asked once you separated from the contact, contact that she had quickly gotten used to, following your slow and gentle rhythm, returning the kiss in an almost surprising way.

“Too brief,” she said with a frown, as if something didn't fit in her thoughts.

You laughed amused, caressing her cheek.

“Do you want more?” You asked with a suggestive voice, approaching again, while she nodded without being able to hide the incipient blush on her cheeks. “It's okay, Donna, I'll give you all the kisses you want...” You whispered, kissing her again, this time deeper, letting her take control, even if it was just for a moment.

“You were right,” the lady in black murmured as she separated from you with a slightly anxious moan.

“Mm?”

“Love is wonderful.”

[shadowbly94]

Time to write some oneshots!

Hi! After my long fic, I've decided to write one shots!! If you have requests, you can make them. Probably this one isn't good enough.

I'm just a maid

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem Maid reader

Warnings: Reader POV, angst?

Words: 1,853

Summary: I just want to know what do you want from me...

N/A: English is not my first language, sorry about the mistakes! I love you all!!

I’m staring at the ceiling of the old room. I don't know what I intend to see in the cracks that the inevitable passage of time has formed. Maybe some answer, maybe the only answer I need to get to sleep.

If you asked me how long I have been your maid, I wouldn't know how to answer. Months… Maybe just a couple of weeks… I don't know. They told me you were crazy, that I shouldn't work here. They said I wouldn't return to the village alive. I thought it was all nonsense, just exaggerations of uneducated villagers. Little by little I realized that they were not.

When I arrived, I was aware of the things that were said about you, the things you were capable of doing. Donna Beneviento, the psychotic doll maker, the dark lady, the woman who relives your worst nightmares.

I've always been careless, or maybe it was just that there was no food in my pantry and I needed the job.

Every night I closed my eyes tightly, praying to Mother Miranda so that my worst fears would not torment me in the darkness. That never happened. I highly doubt it was a simple matter of faith.

Little by little I adapted to your silence, to your almost imperceptible presence. Not a word, not a gesture, just that irritating doll running around the mansion, breaking the calm that precedes your presence.

You didn't even bother to know my name, to ask if I had experience in being a maid. You didn't say anything, you never said anything. Not even the annoying Angie seemed to have the slightest interest in me. Considering the things they said about you, it was a relief at first.

A shy nod, an arm pointing somewhere... That was your only way of communicating with me.

You were nothing more than a shadow, a ghost. Do you really exist?

Cooking, ironing, doing the laundry, cleaning the house... They were all bland and boring tasks. My unbearable routine was only broken the day you finally deigned to speak with your own voice. It was always that loud Angie who would tell me what I should do, or just show some approval for how clean the house was.

Not that day. That day a soft and hoarse “thank you” came from your hidden lips. Did you speak or it was just the horrible sound of the waterfall? I didn't bother asking. I just lowered my head while my hands trembled when I thought I heard your voice.

Every time I went up the stairs, I looked into the cold eyes of that portrait, at that beautiful woman who couldn't be anyone else. It was you, I always knew it.

Seeing you became more and more common. Maybe you had lost your stupid shyness, or maybe you were thinking about the best way to torture me. At first you scared me, Donna.

Fear is a normal reaction to things we don't know. You are something I don't know yet.

The sun and the moon danced without rest. Day and night, night and day. Nothing could stop me from feeling uneasiness, a certain bitterness. The days passed, and I became consumed by loneliness.

But... Sometimes, just sometimes, you started keeping me company by the fire. I sat in one armchair, you in another one. In silence, always in silence. I highly doubt you can understand my nervousness on those occasions. Sometimes you knit sad dresses for your dolls, sometimes you read.

The book I started reading stopped being important. I no longer saw paragraphs or words. You were the only thing I looked at during those strange nights. Curiosity, fear, the reason didn't matter. I began to get too fond of studying your gestures, listening to your breathing. If you breathe, you are alive, you are human... Are you?

Maybe loneliness was driving me crazy, or maybe you were driving me crazy.

I couldn't understand your silence, your elegant way of walking, the absurd distance you put between us like an invisible wall. What would have happened if I had dared to talk to you? I guess I'll never know.

But even something as extraordinary as spending time with you became another unbearable routine. You think you're very smart, very subtle, but you're not, Donna. I know that you look at me over your books and your breathing quickens when you dare to get a little closer. Is it your breath, or is it mine? Do you also get nervous being close to me?

It's like a time loop. Every night you join me, you sit next to me, in silence, pretending that I'm not even there. In the morning nothing changes, everything remains the same. I wonder if it's really a dream.

My mind has been deteriorating little by little, with every sigh, with every hidden glance, with the fabric of your dress rubbing against mine. Why are you approaching me?

I don't know how you did it, but I started counting the hours until the night came just to have you by my side again, to spend some time with you. My need to be with you increased with each night, making the days unbearable for me.

I stopped seeing your absence as a relief. Now it was torture.

The words began to come out of your mouth more frequently: “thank you,” “good night,” “you should read this book”… Unimportant things, but you said them with your own voice.

They are whispers that join the crackling of the fire. It's not Angie talking, it's you, why?

I'm beginning to understand why you are so feared. When they told me that you could torture people by making them hallucinate, I was scared. But what you're doing to me is much worse than any nightmare.

You're making me become an addict, addicted to you. I’m addicted to your shy whispers, to your perfume that transports me to spring, to your dress moving elegantly as you walk.

Is that your true power? Why do I want to hear that horrible elevator? Why do I keep looking at you secretly if I pass by your workshop? Why am I jealous of Angie for always being by your side?

I can't even run away, resign and leave this old house forever. I can't, I don't want to do it.

And then... I saw you. I could see your face when you thought you were alone, letting this stupid veil fall to the floor while you were having lunch in your workshop. I never told you, you'll never know that I saw what you really are.

You are so… Beautiful. I wish I had dared to tell you. The consequences wouldn't have been pleasant for me, but at least it would mean that you would have to interact with me beyond those stupid empty words.

Would you have bothered to torture me?

If so, it would at least mean that you are aware of my presence, that I am a person who lives with you, even if it hardly seems like it.

My addiction to you worsens with every moment that you’re not here, with every moment that I think I hear the sound of your heels on the wood. I'm losing my mind.

Some nights, I imagine you are there, like a shadow, in the corner of my room, watching me. I don't know if it's real, if you're really there, or if it's what my mind wants to think, what my eyes want to see.

I prefer to face my demons. I prefer to hallucinate with a horrible death than believe I see you, hear you. I think you are standing there, looking at me.

One night I wanted to clear my doubts, to check if the darkness in that corner had anything to do with you. I got up, walked slowly, without talking, I know you like when I don't talk.

When I reached that corner I stretched out my arm, expecting to find emptiness, the intangible darkness. No, that was not like that. My hand brushed the fabric of your dress. I know it was your dress.

The silence was overwhelming, interrupted only by the beating of my heart as I ran my hand over your dress. I could feel your breathing, your nervousness, the trembling of your body when you were discovered. I didn't pay attention to it, I just let myself go, letting my hand reach yours. A cold and trembling hand, which moved away from my touch, rising to your face, removing the black cloth that covered it while I approached you as if it were really a dream, was it?

The moonlight was dim, not bright enough to be able to see you again, but it did frame your figure elegantly, as if darkness really was the place where you were meant to live.

My eyes closed as my head leaned towards yours, like a reflex, automatic movement.

I wanted to kiss you, Donna, I wanted to. Did you want it too?

Your lips touched mine, unsure, trembling. How could it be a dream?

You kissed me, I kissed you. We kissed. An innocent and unexpected kiss, but one I had wanted for too long.

Your body remained still while you did it, while your lips rested on mine almost without moving, with the sound of contact between them breaking the dark silence of the night.

Why, Donna?

I felt like I couldn't separate myself from you. I didn't want to. My hands wandered unsteadily, playing with each other until they finally rose to the face you are so ashamed of, framing it as we explored the warmth of our lips.

Your hand removed mine, grabbing one of them with a delicacy that made me think that it was not happening. You dragged me to the bed. You laid me on it and joined me under the covers.

In silence, always in silence.

Everything that happened that night... Everything I saw, what I felt, what you did to me, what I did to you... Everything could be reduced to a simple dream, or a nightmare. No, the nightmare came the next day when the morning cold woke up my shivering body. You weren't there anymore, had you been there?

Maybe you really had been making me hallucinate. Maybe your lips, your body, were never so close to me. But you did it again, you did it often. Maybe it was a recurring dream? Was it what I wanted to do? Do you love me? I love you?

I can't even know what I feel for you. Love? Fear?

What do you feel? Talk to me please. Tell me that your kisses are real, that those nights mean something to you, just like they do to me. Tell me how you feel when you kiss me. Ask me how I feel when I caress your shiny skin in the moonlight.

Torture me, kill me, love me… Talk to me, my love...

I have no right to ask you after all. I’m just a maid.

[shadowbly94]

Thank you for reading!

Hello! The hell I want to stay in is finished! The three final chapters are posted now!

Thank you for support the fic, and thank you for being there!!! You're amazing!!! I don't know what to do now, maybe, just maybe I start to write one shots and maybe, just maybe I open requests... But I still don't know.

(...)

“I'm sorry, Donna,” you whispered with a thin voice. “I'm afraid we're really going to die…”

“Eveline, I love you,” she told you, resting her forehead on yours, helping you moving your arms so you could surround her body with them.

“I love you,” you said back, suddenly finding great calm, as if somehow time had stopped, as if you had accepted your fate.

“Die together, then,” Miranda whispered, laughing mockingly, extending her claws again.

You both closed your eyes, firm in your decision to stop trying, melting into a hug, in the last hug. Angie was also there ready to die with her owner, with you, not to cowardly abandon you.

The final blow never came, but something did. Something that frightened the witch, causing her to recoil, hissing in pain.

You opened your eyes to see how a metal saw had flown towards her, making a superficial, but visible, cut on her cheek.

You looked up at the bare ceiling of that cathedral. There where roaring, drooling shadows eclipsing the dim moonlight.

Miranda ran a finger over her wound, gasping at the shock, searching everywhere for the cause of this unsuspecting attack.

Everything became silent apart from the monsters that settled on the roof, on the sides of the room, waiting for their moment to come.

“Miranda!” A voice echoed in the stone, along with footsteps that got closer and closer. Steps of several people, slow, calm but determined.

(...)

Chapter 29: I'll fight, we'll fight

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That's all!!! I hope you have liked it! If you want to ask something, you're free to do it!!

I love you all! :)))

[shadowbly94]

We're close to the end!

Hi everyone! The Hell I want to stay in is about to end! Chapters 27 and 28 are posted now! There are just 3 more chapters left!

Thank you very much for your support and for reading this fic!! You're free to let me know what do you think about it!

(...)

For a moment, lucidity and rational thought returned to your head. It wasn't your life that was at stake, it was Donna's. You couldn't die, Miranda needed you. But Donna... Donna was expendable, a bargaining chip to make your behavior exemplary.

“I…” You murmured. “I'm sorry.”

Miranda raised her eyebrows at your radical behavior and a wicked smile spread across her face.

“Wow, it seems that you have come to your senses,” she said amused, realizing the fear in your eyes, realizing that you had remembered the things that were at stake. “That’s the way I like it, little bird.”

“Don't do anything to Donna, I... I’m begging you,” you said, bowing your head, lowering your gaze in a gesture of humiliation, of false devotion.

“But how cute you are, Eveline,” Miranda whispered laughing, lifting your chin so that you could look into her eyes. “You would do anything for her, right?” She asked, with a different tone, like she was incredibly disgustingly jealous of the lady in black.

“Yes,” you said dryly, noticing how the vision in front of you was blurred due to the tears.

(...)

Chapter 28: Sacrifice

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I love you all!! :)

[shadowbly94]

We're halfway!

Hi everyone!!! The Hell I want to stay in has reached chapters 15 & 16!

Thank you for your support and your comments. They make me happy!! I hope you can keep enjoying the second half of the story!!

(...)

“Don't be afraid... I, I'm with you...” Donna said, unsure of herself. You would be surprised otherwise.

“I know... I know,” you whispered, turning over all that jumble of information in your head. “I need answers, someone to help me to understand.”

“I... I'm sorry, I'm sorry I can't help you,” she said, raising her knees to her chest. Alert, Eveline, fix it quickly.

“No, no, eh, honey...” You said, leaning on her, controlling the incipient tremor in her hands. “You’re already helping me, more than you think. It's not your fault that you don't have the answers I'm looking for.”

While you were talking, a name appeared in your head, a name that you had been running away from all day and that you didn't want to see as a solution to your doubts. Heisenberg.

“Donna,” you said, cooling your gaze, checking how she knew how to calm herself. You sighed in relief to see that your anti-anxiety tips had worked.

She looked at you and nodded.

“Your brother...” You said, with a cautious voice, walking through a minefield.

“Brother? Do you mean Karl or Salvatore?” She asked more awake, brushing an incipient tear from her eye.

“The metal clown,” you said jokingly, giving your lover a shy smile. “He seems a bit more… Lucid. I was wondering if I could talk to him.”

You didn't want to do it, you really didn't want to do it, but if you really wanted any answer other than a hesitation you would have to turn to the supreme witch's most ungrateful son.

(...)

Chapter 15: A little help

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[shadowbly94]

Chapters 9 & 10 are out!

Thank you for your support!

Maybe i'm not going to post every update here, I don't want to be annoying :)

You can read now the next two chapters of The Hell I want to stay in (+18)

(...)

“Do you want to stop talking for me as if you know what I think?” You asked, gritting your teeth, closing the door with an exaggerated slam. “What are you doing with the veil on? I thought you didn't use it anymore when we were alone.”

Donna relaxed her breathing, but turned her back on you, walking around the wooden table in the middle of the room.

“That way you won't be able to look at me.”

“Donna, I want to look at you, I love your smile, I adore everything about you,” you said, following her steps, grabbing her wrist for a moment, before she pulled away from your hold with an angry gasp.

“Everything? That's a lie. Yesterday you made very clear to me how disgusted my body gives you,” she said, turning around, with a sob interrupting her words.

“No, no, you're wrong. I, I just... Well, I was impressed, okay? I didn't know and it caught me by surprise. I'm sorry I reacted that way, Donna. Maybe I wouldn't have done it if you had told me before.”

“So that? So that you would have another reason to abandon me, to you stop loving me?”

“I haven't stopped loving you because of that,” you said firmly, chasing a nervous lady who was walking aimlessly through the workshop, controlling her nervous breathing with extreme difficulty.

“That's what you say now,” Donna replied, stopping in her mindless wandering.

“You are wrong about me, Lady Beneviento,” you said, trying to contain your anger for not being able to apologize properly, for not being able to say everything you felt, for not being able to answer the questions you still had. “You think I'm a horrible person. You think I care about your scar, that the love I have is necessarily linked to whatever you have between your legs. You're wrong... I love you the way you are, like the beautiful woman who was there when I thought my life was coming to an end.”

(...)

Chapter 9: Making sense

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I love you all

[shadowbly94]

Chapters 7 & 8 are posted now!

You can read the new two chapters of The Hell I want to stay in now!

(..)

“No... Don't do this to me...” Donna said in a whisper more typical of her, letting your hand brush her skin, but looking away, shedding a tear down her cheek that moistened your hand. “Stop Please…”

“Don't do what? You don’t want me to caress you? You don’t want me to tell you the truth of what I think?” You said in a soft tone, going down to the limit of a whisper, without removing your hand for a second. “I'll stop if you tell me that you don't feel anything for me, that you were playing with me when you told me I was beautiful, when you were the one caressing me. If you just knew how your words made me feel... Your kisses on my cheek...”

“What... What I feel doesn't... It doesn't matter...” The lady in black said with a sob, shaking her head, bringing her hand closer to yours, squeezing it tightly. “You don't... You can't love me...”

“You don't know that, Donna,” you said, feeling a release, something you had wanted to say for a long time, sure that she had felt the same, for much longer.

“Of, of course I know... No one could love someone like me,” she said, still stuck in her self-pity, in her complexes, denying the evidence that your soft caresses highlighted, the little distance that separated you. “I’m… I’m a monster…”

“No, you're not,” you said immediately, wanting to get that idea out of her head as soon as possible. She didn't look like she was going to have another one of her crises, but the situation was becoming very ripe for it.

“I am, Eveline...” She whispered, getting closer and closer to you letting herself to be carried by your hands, which slowly descended to her waist, making you lose track of time and space, making you forget who she really was.

“No, you're not,” you repeated, with your lips very close to hers, with her hands roaming your arms as if in pleading caresses. “I would never kiss a monster.”

(..)

(Chapter 7: Confessions)

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[shadowbly94]

Chapters 5 and 6 are out now!

Hi! I've posted two more chapters of The Hell I want to stay in. Thank you for your support, you're wonderful!

(..)

You were paralyzed, observing each of those features that she hid in shame.

Your freezing was so great that you couldn't react when her gaze slowly rose, right to where you were gawking at her.

“Eveline...” She said, scared, tensing her body quickly, turning around, crawling on the floor and covering her face with her hands. “Don’t, don't look at me! Get out!”

“Wait, wait a moment,” you said, entering the room, careful not to step on the glass that was on the floor.

“What the hell are you doing here, you silly stranger?!” Angie said, putting herself in the middle, between you and Donna, trying to protect her. “You are prohibited from entering here!”

“I'm, I'm sorry, I heard a noise and...” You said nervously, looking fearfully at Donna, who curled up into a ball, covering her face with her knees.

“Go away!” The lady shouted, her voice muffled by her legs, grabbing her hair with frightening force.

“Donna, wait...” You said in a low voice, lazily extending your arm towards her.

“Go away stupid, go away, go away!” Angie shouted, pushing you with her ridiculous strength.

“Fuori di qui!” Donna screamed again, in a threatening tone, a scream that echoed off the walls, making you cover your mouth with your hand and obey.

(..)

(Chapter 6: Behind the veil)

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[shadowbly94]

Hi everyone!

I'm here to tell you that I wrote a complete "Donna Benviento x fem Oc" fic!!!

In the past I used to write about other things, but now I'm on this stuff.

You can read it at Ao3 and Wattpad (Links bellow)

This looks like a kind of spam, sorry for that.

Anyway, I let you here the sum and the links, so you can read it if you feel like to!

The Hell I want to stay in (sum)

Your life was going nowhere. A deception, a loss, the feeling of being alone, of having nowhere to go... Everything was reason enough for you to decide to start a new life away from your past. When you stopped in that small village thinking that maybe it would be a good place to spend the night, you couldn't imagine the mistake you made. You would soon begin to realize that perhaps destiny made you get there.

Links:

Ao3 (English)

Wattpad (English)

Wattpad (Spanish)

Notes:

-English is not my first language, so I'm sorry about the mistakes.

-Make sure you read the tags and the warnings bellow (it's important)

-Minors DNI, this is an adult story. It has adult themes (not just what you're thinking)

-The fic is finished, but I would like to post two chapters a day. If by chance you like it, let me know and maybe I can change that.

-Some characters and events from the game changed to fit the story.

Warnings:

Adult themes, G!P, canon divergence (it's a pre-Ethan story) mental health problems, suicide mentions, canon typical violence, explicit sex. (See Ao3 tags to know more)

So that's it. I hope you like it, and... For those loving people from my other user, sorry for abandoning you.

If you had any questions, you can ask me.

I love you all, always