#god forbid a woman make mistakes

[maladaptvs]

if you hate daisy fay buchanon shut the fuck up i never want to hear shit from you.

[hamartia-grander]

Stop giving me excuses as to how a female character is annoying to you and start explaining how the hell you think finding a woman annoying justifies hating her or disregarding her as a character

[jorgecrespo]

STOP BEING MEAN TO ISA SHE'S JUST A LITTLE GIRL

[skyyytower]

Zootopia 2 is confirmed to be in production and I saw a person on Twitter begging for Judy and Nick to not be a couple in the movie and oh my fucking god, there was such a big amount of people who ship them getting SO defensive of them not becoming a canon couple, I am going crazy

[quillyfied]

There being two movies now in the Benoit Blanc world, and both movies sharing some recognizable tropes and archetypes to build its flavor, there’s a specific type of character that I’m struck by, particularly as a white woman, in both Knives Out and Glass Onion:

The Sympathetic White Woman.

In KO it’s Meg. In GO it’s Whiskey. They both bond with the (WOC, very important to emphasize) protagonist by being less crappy to her than the rest of the cast, and both signal to the audience that they’re trustworthy as far as the protagonist goes. They tell the protagonist that they’re on her side. They try to be supportive. They’re sympathetic to the audience.

Then comes the moment when the Sympathetic White Woman’s security is threatened.

(Brief added interruption to just say: please dig through the notes and replies on this baby for some additional excellent thoughts from other people, including the very important distinction that Marta is a white Latina and not a woman of color (my mistake thank you for the corrections), and more thoughts on Whiskey’s actual/additional betrayal moments!)

For Meg, it’s her mom telling her she has to drop out of school if they don’t get the inheritance money. For Whiskey, it’s Duke dying. In both cases, the protagonist reaches out—Marta tells Meg she won’t let that happen, she’ll support Meg with whatever money she needs; Helen tries to soothe a hysteric Whiskey by telling her she doesn’t need Duke and he deserved what he got (not realizing Duke is dead, of course). It’s a slightly different moment in each movie, but the basic framework is the same: the woman of color protagonist reaches back to the Sympathetic White Woman, and notably, reaches DOWN, offering the support the Sympathetic White Woman offered earlier.

Only…the Sympathetic White Woman was never intending to be the one the protagonist had to reach down to. So she snaps. Meg tells her family about Marta’s mother and they use it to threaten her. Whiskey latches onto the belief that Helen killed Duke and tries to kill her with a spear gun in what she thinks is self-defense. The Sympathetic White Woman Heel-Turn.

Meg and Whiskey both also sort of try to make amends after their Heel-Turn moments, but…the trust is already broken. The protagonist knows better now. The Sympathetic White Woman is not to be trusted.

Why this sticks out to me personally is the very obvious callout that feminists of color have been making about white feminists for literal decades: that white feminism lacks any true support or compassion for non-white people, that it’s empty promises of support and when the chips are down, white feminism upholds whiteness over feminism in an act to protect itself. And whiteness…is a damn difficult thing to even see when you’re white and raised in an overwhelmingly white community, let alone begin to pick apart and unlearn. It’s reactionary, how Meg and Whiskey turn on Marta and Helen to protect themselves.

It would make Meg incredibly vulnerable to support Marta fully, the way she promised to back when she thought she had the resources for it, but Marta is that vulnerable every day just existing as a Latina woman in America. Whiskey’s Heel-Turn moment is a little more immediate trauma based, but when looking for someone to blame, she doesn’t hesitate to blame Andi (Helen), scrapping together the few pieces of information she has—Andi hates all of the Disruptors, Andi got screwed over by them, Andi fought with Duke just minutes before he died, Andi was in their shared room tearing it apart when Whiskey came in distraught. She’s looking for an outlet. There’s Helen red-handed and in view. Boom. Whiskey grabs the spear gun instead of talking it out with the person she admitted just hours ago to feeling sympathy for.

Growing up white and steeped in whiteness causes defensive reactions when that whiteness is brought up, or, god forbid, challenged. It’s a knee-jerk thing for people who haven’t begun to deconstruct it for themselves; even for people who have, to see just how far and deep in American society that reaches is troubling. Humbling. Enraging. The Sympathetic White Woman archetype is, to me, a warning to not let whiteness overrule sense and morals. To be smart about it. And, crucially, to check myself for condescension, especially when interacting with non-white folks in any capacity.

(Also why the presence of Benoit Blanc is so important. He is also sympathetic, he also offers his own support, but crucially, he just uses his whiteness to clear a path for the WOC protagonist to take her place and do what she needs to do. He doesn’t speak over her, he doesn’t turn on her, he just listens, and presents the truth for her to do with it what she will. Or, in one case, hands her highly volatile crystal hydrogen for when she’s really ready to tear the Murderer’s crap down.)

[phntmeii]

♡ Dating Thomas Hewitt Headcanons

❝ I often ask myself, 'What makes a man a killer?' ❝

[ SFW + No Gendered Terms]

General Warnings: Mentions of Murder, Slight Stockholm Syndrome, Hoyt being Hoyt

A/N: Congrats to Tommy for winning the last poll for headcanons :) I love this man sm. I scour the entire internet just for fanart of his body he's so soft and aaaaa !!!

🔪 Tommy is unfamiliar with romance entirely. The most he'd gotten to know of it were stories from Luda Mae during childhood but he never got to experience it himself.

🔪 And the mention of what a "man does to a woman" by Hoyt wasn't appealing to him in any way. Tommy just focused on providing for the family and ignoring what Hoyt said.

🔪Then, a new set of victims made the mistake of running into Hoyt and Tommy was to do his job. Yet, for some reason, he couldn't help but stare at you when he brought you down to the basement and rather than running, you clung to him instead to hide from Hoyt.

🔪 For once, he wanted to protect you while Hoyt yelled at him to just kill you. But, everything was different this time. Someone willingly approached him rather than screaming.

🔪 Tommy was firm in his decision, towering over Hoyt as his own silent threat to keep you around. And so he did. While he couldn't speak to you, he tried his best to care for you despite you now being a prisoner in a home of cannibals.

🔪 He'd carefully place a plate in front of you and then just sit and stare at you, waiting for a reaction or for you to eat. Telling him you don't trust the meat in the case that it's human has him confused because they taste fine to him? But since your stuff was taken from you, Luda will just buy other foods for you to eat with your money.

🔪 In truth, Tommy is just as scared of you as you are of him. He doesn't want to upset you in any way because for once, it seems like he has a friend. An attractive one too. He waits for you to be more comfortable around him.

🔪 Tommy is a light sleeper so he'd have you sleep in his room with him. If you were to try and sneak out, he'd be right there to stop you. But, it's not like you have much of a way to sneak out anyway since he is completely clung to you in his sleep without realizing it. It's as though you were his pillow or plushie to cuddle during the nighttime.

🔪 When Luda noticed the way Tommy treated you, she would whisper little things he could do to impress you or make you happy. She always wanted him to find someone, especially since Tommy had his struggles.

🔪 He gets nervous when trying to do some of what Luda suggested because it felt like he was a little boy again. A little lovesick boy. But he’s a mama’s boy and knows Luda is helping him. He'd approach you and hand a flower to you, just as she suggested, hoping that it works to make you happy.

🔪 Some days, you’ll wake up to find a little note in your dresser. It’s in poor handwriting but you can tell it’s from Tommy. He picked it up from what Luda used to do—Leave notes in his lunch each day.

🔪 The first note you got had some drawings on it. You could make out smiley faces and hearts. The only legible words on the note was “I LOVE YOU”.

🔪 Tommy is very careful around you since he's aware of his size. He tries to be like a gentle giant, although, he can default to being too gentle, treating you as though you were made of glass.

🔪 He's scared to hurt you. After all, that's the only thing Hoyt has him do. Gods forbid if he did hurt you in some way, he'd slink away into the basement to avoid being around you. He would need some coaxing to understand that you're okay.

🔪 Overall though, Tommy is an absolute sweetheart. He's very attentive and willing to do whatever to make you happy. And he's also very easy to please! He's been taught to be happy with the minimum so anything besides that immediately makes him overjoyed.

🔪 Tommy's favorite thing to do is hold hands with you. He's self-conscious over the fact that his hands are scarred and rough but he can't help but be an internal mess at the electric touch between you two.

🔪 Sometimes when he's upset with Hoyt's constant yelling and berating, he'll toss you over his shoulders like nothing and bring you outside with him so he can cool down with you.

🔪 He finds solace in you. You'll find how Tommy will just sometimes stare at you because he's admiring your appearance. He has a particular fascination with your eyes. He finds it hard to look at them directly but when you aren't looking at him, it's all he can focus on.

🔪 One thing about Tommy: As much as he can be sweet, he still is a brutish murderer. Any victims who even catch a glimpse of you are his first targets.

🔪 It can be almost unnerving how easily Tommy can switch like that. To be so gentle with you to becoming a murderous beast towards anyone else.

🔪 One quick way you’ve seen Tommy get upset is when he heard Hoyt talk explicitly about your body. Hoyt did it specifically to make you uncomfortable as that is what gets him off most.

🔪 But his grin was quickly wiped off by how Tommy turned around and stared down Hoyt. He didn’t have much restraint but decided to simply pick you up and leave to his room with you. His silent threats spoke for him.

🔪 He also has a tendency to be paranoid about you staying. He makes sure you understand that this is your home now. He is your family. You wouldn't leave him alone again, right?

🔪 Tommy isn’t that hesitant to never take off his mask but he is around you because of his insecurities. He knows what generally attractive people look like considering the victims he’s caught before and knows he doesn’t look like that.

🔪 He grows more accustomed to having his mask off when you aren’t afraid to kiss and caress his face. You couldn’t be lying about that when your touch was so sweet and gentle with him.

🔪 Tommy’s main Love Languages to give are: Acts of Service and Quality Time. He loves to receive in return Quality Time and Words of Affirmation.

🔪 Tommy likes to go out of his way to do things for you because he likes to feel useful to you. Anything he can do to help you out and he’s rushing to help.

🔪 Any errand around the house he immediately takes up so he can hear you praise him for it.

🔪 If he sees you working, he’s made it a habit to get you tea or lemonade. In the mornings, he’s used to waking up early so he’ll let you sleep in and surprise you with breakfast. Before bed, he has a whole ritual for you before going to bed.

🔪 Pulling back the covers, making sure the pillows are cold and plumped up. And once you walk in, he’s planting kisses across your face, picking you up and tucking you in while he gets in beside you and holding you close.

🔪 One of his favorites to do is when you ask him to pick something up for you if it’s too heavy. When you compliment him for being strong, he’s barely letting you pick anything up anymore because he wants to hear you praise him more.

🔪 Tommy also just generally loves to spend alone time with you. Constantly being around his family in the home can leave him feeling slightly stir crazy.

🔪 He loves to just sit under a tree, under the shade and away from the harsh sun, beside you and just enjoy your presence.

🔪 Tommy was a little hesitant at the suggestion of a spa day with face masks and other things, considering he’d have to take off his mask but seeing you in the same face mask as him in the mirror and he was silently asking each week to do it again and again.

⤷ divider credits: @cafekitsune

[apollosgiftofprophecy]

I think another reason why I get rather annoyed when people hate on ToA Apollo is because how hypocritical their criticisms are.

I just saw a post talking about how great it is that Annabeth gets to show a lot of emotion, especially by crying. I also recall moments where she got frustrated or angry, and I found myself absolutely agreeing!

But then my thoughts turned to Apollo, another character who shows a lot of emotion.

But you know what he’s called for being frustrated, or upset, or for crying?

Whiny. He’s called whiny.

Apollo gets frustrated when he’s unable to perform something (archery) he used to be extremely good at. He’s upset that he can no longer use a bow correctly.

And people call him whiny for that. Apparently, those people have never experienced, let alone heard of The Gifted-Kid, something all Gifted-Kids (hello, tis me, Gifted-Kid since 4th grade RIP) can relate to Apollo over.

You were really good at something but all of a sudden you can no longer perform it as well? You’re not hitting your usual mark?

Well too bad, according to the fan base, you should shut up and not be so awfully whiny! It’s just archery!

(That was obviously in jest but you get my point.)

Additionally, Apollo never complains about important things. He complains about having to walk, but not the injury that’s literally turning him into a zombie and physically tormenting him.

That post really made me think about this, and then I asked myself; “Why? Why are people’s thoughts so different on Annabeth v Apollo showing emotion?”

It became apparent rather quickly, if you ask me.

Annabeth is a woman. Of course she should be able to show emotion! also maybe deep-seated sexism of ‘women are emotional’

Apollo is a man. And God forbid men show emotion I guess smh so also sexism

Because think about it. How many of the RRVerse male protagonists were allowed to cry? To be fully, and undeniably, upset?

I can only remember Frank crying on the plane after his grandmother’s presumed death, and Grover sniffling/getting teary-eyed in PJO. I don’t recall Percy, Jason, Leo, or Nico ever crying, or really having powerful bursts of emotion.

Yes, yes, Percy and Nico have both gotten mad and unleashed their fury upon someone, but that’s not what I’m talking about here.

I’m talking about letting them feel, letting them be emotional.

Not a burst of anger. But real, genuine character-driven emotion.

The fact that I can only name Frank and Grover from the previous two series is truly saddening.

Apollo gets to feel. To let his emotions flow freely. He whines, yes, but he also gets frustrated, he gets upset, and most of all he cries.

That all makes him a real character, someone people can relate to.

I’ll admit I’m a rather emotional person too. I have a quick temper, and more often than not the water-works come on real quick when I get upset. It’s a normal emotional response, but it can be difficult to work with, especially when you’re trying to stay calm.

Apollo is the first RRVerse protagonist to be allowed to have feelings— strong ones, even. And I can relate to that. There’s a reason why Apollo, Reyna, and Annabeth are all favorites of mine, and that’s because I see myself in them.

Annabeth is prideful. I can be too. She gets obsessed over her work. I do that too. Hates spiders? Oh hell yeah.

Reyna gave me someone to connect with over my sexuality. Ignore that Rick mixed what aro and ace are for a moment please She really gave my demiromantic self somebody to relate with, because the lack of aro rep is criminal. and no the Hunters are not aro rep

Apollo is emotional. He’s made mistakes and wants to do better.

Who wouldn’t see themselves in him? I certainly do.

And yet, he gets called whiny for having the literal rug pulled out from under him again and again, and he doesn’t even let himself complain over what he should, absolutely complain about!

Idk. I think there’s a lot to be said about how this fandom treats emotional characters, especially based on gender.

I guess this is all to say don’t judge a fictional character, because you’re judging a real person too.

And real people have feelings, you know.

[mochiroreo]

Oh goodie! Pt.1 [cherry pies, vanilla, and cigars]

18+ MDNI

Pairing: Older!Eddie Munson x innocent!nerdy!reader (afab!reader) x Older!Steve Harrington

Wordcount: 5.4k

Summary: being a latchkey child, you are used to being alone. So when your parents announced that your whole family is moving to Hawkins, you paid them no mind and just packed up your bags. What you are not expecting was that the house that your family just bought comes with two neighbours that are in dire need to have you in any way.

Trigger Warnings: [this chapter: manipulation. Gaslighting. Fingering. Titty sucking. Taking advantage of reader’s vulnerable state.] she/her pronouns. DUBCON. NONCON. 100% FILTH. Smut. Unprotected P in V (wrap it before you tap it). Hidden relationships. Age gap. Cream pie. Size kink. Degradation. Corruption. Choking/slapping (in a pleasurable way). Pet names (no use of y/n). Fingering. Squirting. Overstimulation. Public sex. Non-consented Recording.

Author’s note: hello hello~ sorry for the long wait! Steddie are now on the move~! As usual, thank you so much for your support on my first fanfic ever! And sorry in advance for the grammar mistakes as English is not my first language. Not beta’d as well (we die like Nanam— *gets mugged in Shibuya arc*) Enjoy! 💖

“Hi..?” Ever so softly,you whispered and let it hang onto the air. Both men just looking at you with wide eyes and an expression that you aren’t sure if its embarrassment because they know you have heard what they were talking about or they just don’t expect a woman like you to be in front of their door around this time. Both of them staring at you with intensity, making you unconsciously grab the boxes a little bit tighter,feeling your palms sweat before turning your head away slightly to try and ease the warmth that is slowly creeping up your body from being ogled openly. One of the them,the one with thick,luscious hair ran his eyes all over you,unconsciously biting his bottom lip. The other,arms littered with tattoos,doing the same thing, holding such intense stare that you cannot stand it anymore which made you clear your throat and snap them out of their trance.

“Hi..?” The tattooed man answered,also clearing his throat before leaning against the door frame. Taking a deep breath, he looks like he is about to say something before closing his mouth again. He ran his fingers through his shoulder length hair upwards,clearly in distraught on what to say to you,not minding how it ruined his hair a bit. He did not expect someone,a woman (who is definitely his type) to be standing in front of his friend’s door. Hell,his best friend looks like he did not expect someone at all too with how he is standing awkwardly beside him.

“Uhm.. are you lost? I— we—“ stumbling on his words, he looked at his friend with annoyance “fuck— help me out here man!” He whispered harshly to his best fried beside him with a bit of a shove,which seemed to take his friend out of his staring competition against you and made him fold his arms over his chest. “Uh,sorry, I’m Steve. Steve Harrington. and this is Eddie Munson” Steve introduced his friend and himself politely before extending his hand,which he retreated back after noticing how you’re balancing two boxes. He wanted to help you but does not want to seem like he is already overstepping his boundaries. “Is there anything we can do for you?” Steve combed his hair,a nervous habit of his,but you only stared at him.

With the presence of both men and the slowly cooling air of Hawkins,your cheeks slowly grew red. You snapped out of it when it felt like minutes has passed after his question,making your cheeks warmer in embarrassment “I uhm.. we just moved here and my mom baked these pies for you and uh the other neighbor.. I’m just here to give you yours.” Eddie clenched his jaw with how soft you spoke. God forbid him for already having feral thoughts about someone he just met. The way your cheeks grew red, the way your eyes slowly raked over him and Steve’s frame before tilting your head to stop staring at them, and how your skirt fits perfectly and shows the meaty expense of your thighs. He knows he is fucked with the palpable attraction that he is already holding for you. And its seems like his best friend holds it for you too with the way Steve looks at you. Hearing you say the statement though made him and Steve feel like they won a million bucks. What are the odds of leaving next to someone looking so divine?

“Oh-!” Steve exclaimed,grabbing both boxes from your hands,to which shocked you and almost made you fell. Eddie quickly managed to grab your arm,immediately shooting Steve a glare. “Jesus” he mumbled. His hand is warm,firmly holding you and making sure you’re standing properly before gently letting go. Your eyes widened with the sudden physical contact,mumbling a “thank you” and looking down to fiddle with your fingers,trying to calm your nerves and the odd sensation in your stomach. Steve only eyed you and Eddie sheepishly,giving you a small chuckle “Sorry. I just really wanna help you out the moment I’ve noticed you were having a hard time with these boxes” he leaned onto the door to open it wider “if you’re planning to give the other pie to the other neighbor, you’re in luck cause this guy—“ he paused before pointing his head to Eddie “this guy is your other neighbor.” Eddie gave you the friendliest smile he can muster, before extending his hand. Blaming your nerves for short circuiting because of the full blown interaction, you grabbed his hand with both of your hands and shook it gently. “Nice to meet you both.” You tried to answer sternly but your voice just won’t come out clearly. He lets out a booming laugh, looking at both of your hands before copying you and shaking both of your hands with his.

“Its nicer to meet you.”

Noticing how his voice dropped a tad bit when he said the statement,you cannot help the slight shiver that crawled under your skin. It already felt so wrong. Standing in front of two men that are literally strangers and knowing that you are already infatuated with how good-looking they are is definitely not what you expected on the first day of moving to a different state that you barely knew exist. And definitely how you reacted to someone before. Biting your lip out of embarrassment,you just nodded to him and let go of his hands. Steve,smirking with the interaction,gestured towards inside his house “would you like something to drink-? You must have been standing there for a while.” The question took you off guard,looking at them both with hesitation while you struggle to answer. “I don’t want to bother—“ before you can even finish your sentence,Steve had already cut you off “nonsense. Its alright,you’re not bothering anyone.” He waved you off,carrying the boxes with ease. “Come on in,honey.” With a boyish smile given your way, you took the invitation,the nickname making the odd feeling inside you growing stronger and hard to ignore. You followed him,stepping inside the house while Eddie closed the door with a knowing smile, which Steve returned when he looked at him.

“You just moved here today..?” Steve started as he put down the boxes on the countertop. The design of his house is very modern,neutral colours were dominating every space but not without a pop of colour here and there which just screamed like him with how he’s dressed with some brown slacks and a pale yellow sweater. You stopped looking around,realising you haven’t told them your name yet so you did,taking a seat on one of the bar stools to which Eddie followed and sat beside you.

“Aww, what a pretty name.” He cooed,chuckling with the way you immediately blushed. Both men took the opportunity to look at you closer. Glasses sitting perfectly on your face, red pouty lips that looks like they will feel like heaven once they kiss you, the soft pink skirt that fits you perfectly and shows of your curves. Something akin to feral were slowly being awaken with just your presence.

“Uh yeah,just moved in. Me and my parents.” Adjusting your glasses,you gave Steve a small smile when he handed you and Eddie some lemonade. “I see..” he nodded,taking a sip out of his own glass before continuing “are you planning to continue your studies here then,hon? Hawkins doesn’t have much to offer but the universities and public colleges here and surrounding areas are quite nice— or are you still in high school?” Eddie knows what Steve is really asking you without all the formalities. He gulped his drink,slowly taking small sips while he waits for your answer. He is hoping that if the heavenly beings are real,that they are on his side on this. Him and Steve would be disgusted with themselves inside and out if you choose the latter as the answer to Steve’s question,already planning to drop you home just in case.

“Oh no” you quickly answered,shaking your head “I am planning to attend a university here but I haven’t decided what to pursue yet.. which kind of explains why I’m out here on what should’ve been a school night. I’m turning 19 this summer” politely answering before focusing on your lemonade and removing the slice of lemon wedged at the edge of your glass. Steve sighed in relief,a little too loud, with how quick you looked at him. “Are you alright?” You asked him, tilting your head in concern to which Eddie answered “He’s fine sweetheart” the nickname rolled too easy at Eddie’s tongue, giving you a smirk. “He’s just really happy that his lemonade tastes good.” Steve only chuckled, agreeing to Eddie’s statement before he moves to open a cupboard and a drawer for some plates and cutlery for the pies. Noticing him grabbing 3 plates, you started feeling restless that you are overstaying “I uh— sorry Sir, I’m alright. I- I can just eat the pie at home. My mom bakes them all the time.” Slowly getting down from the bar stool, you grabbed your glass that was once full, along with the coaster “I don’t want to over stay, your family might come home and ask why a stranger is inside their house.” You tried to joke with them, smiling and mentally giving yourself a pat on the back for thinking that you’re really doing well at socializing, oblivious to the effects of what you called Steve. Eddie shifted uncomfortably on his seat, easing the growing pain behind his jeans while Steve took some deep breaths to steady himself. Sir. Fucking Sir. That was said with the most innocent intent but went quickly to their groins. If they thought that hearing you speak earlier was like the loveliest melody wrapped in honey, what more would it be when you’re breathless and a moaning mess underneath them?

“No, you don’t need to worry about that” Steve clarified. “Me and Eddie live alone, so you can just call us by our names. No need to be too polite,sweetie.” Walking towards where you are, he gave you a firm squeeze on your shoulder, to which you looked at him in surprise “We’re already neighbors, we’re going to see each other every day starting tonight. Might as well be comfortable around us already.” Shyly looking at him with doe-eyes, you can only give him a sincere smile while staring at him to which him and Eddie gave you a grin. Steve is ecstatic. His eyes can’t hide the emotions that he is trying to keep at bay. His excitement. Curiosity. All the things he already wants to do with you to open you up to him is slowly filling his mind. Excusing yourself to put your glass on the sink and to wash your hands, Eddie gave Steve a look. A knowing look that they’re going to talk about important things later, forgetting about all the things he laid out tonight that he said he will finish before the day ends. Wiping your hands on a tea towel, you asked them “would you perhaps know any stores around that are hiring? I would really like to apply to one..” Eddie never thought that he will smile so wide that he felt his cheeks starting to hurt. If he felt like a million bucks earlier, he felt like a million times luckier than Steve now. What are the chances that he owns a record store that clearly doesn’t need any employees except you-?

“I own a record store, if you wanna apply? No need for a resume. You look trustworthy enough.” You gasped then squealed,forgetting where you are before giving him a quick hug. You were too happy about already landing a job without going store to store and talking to every manager to notice how Eddie’s eyes widened, before slightly hugging you back. You pulled away immediately,mumbling sorry’s continuously,cheeks now back to being red at what you just did. “I’m so sorry,I’m just—“ you mumbled too quickly,while he just gave you a grin. You felt him rest his hand on the curve of your back,acting as if it doesn’t give him the same gnawing feeling at the pit of your stomach. “You’re alright. Like Stevie here said, we’re going to see each other now every day. Might as well feel comfortable,right?” You nodded at his words,relief evident on your face when you thought you ruined the night with your sudden bold move. “I- thank you so much.” You gave them both a genuine smile,to which they cannot help but be in awe with how cute you look. You feel giddy,not only did you think they’re handsome but they are also the nicest neighbours already. You cannot think how it will make your parents pretty proud. Your mom’s voice ringing inside your head “I told you so.”

Both of them guided you towards the door,you cannot stop yourself from thanking them. You stepped out of Steve’s house before turning around to look at them with a shy smile on your face. “I will bring more pies in the future. It was so nice meeting you both!” You promised to them,waving your hand goodbye as your feet found the asphalt once again,skipping on your way home.

They both waved goodbye before Steve closes the door shut,releasing a breath he’s been holding before giving Eddie a look to which he returned. Eddie clasped both of his hands on his chest. “Whoever divine being is in heaven. They are fucking real.” Steve cannot help but to run his fingers through his hair while figuring out what just happened and what he is currently feeling. He had never been smitten with someone he just met. Even with his beloved ex,Nancy, it took him a few weeks to figure out how attracted he is to her. He groaned,running his hand on his face. “I take back what I said to Robin. I take it back” he walked towards his fridge, opening it to grab a pack of beer for him and Eddie. Sitting down, he opened his beer and quickly chugged almost half of it “we were fucking teasing her with how quick it was for her to be smitten when she met Vicky. And now—“ Eddie couldn’t help but laugh, grabbing a beer as well “we are way more worse.” He shook his head,sighing at how his mind seem to drift towards a particular neighbor already. “I want her.” Eddie stated, there was no hint of playfulness nor humour in his eyes while he looks at Steve. “Do you?”

“Yeah.” Steve stood up, drinking the last of his beer before crushing the metal can and chucking it in his bin. Sighing,he plopped down on the sofa and closed his eyes. “Yeah, I want her too.” He gave Eddie a sly smile, having a mutual understanding on what they want to do.

And how they want to do it.

Tonight is like a fever dream.

You immediately changed your clothes back to your sleeping ones with a smile on your face. Laying down, it sinks on you that you’re alone now, so you had let your mind wonder to the things you felt earlier. The feelings that were foreign to you but mixed with uncertainty. You touched your arm that was squeezed gently by Steve while the feeling of Eddie’s hand that rested on your backside felt like it’s still there. Butterflies still erupting at the pit of your stomach though laced with uneasiness and doubt. You try to calm yourself, telling yourself that they’re just your awfully nice neighbours and that they don’t deserve the doubts you’re thinking about them. Finding sleep at last.

A week went by quickly. Days filled with sticky shirts and the smell of chlorine.

Immediately telling your parents the next day how you managed to land a job after meeting your neighbors, they were proud and happy for you. “They are just the kindest” you told them,saying how they did not hesitate to offer it to you without even getting to know you. You busy yourself with arranging your things from the move, helping your parents decide which curtains fit the living area better, and going to some good spots around Hawkins. Your days being spent mostly with your parents while they enjoy their days off with you before they go back to working again.

You went out with your mom to grab some groceries, the car slowly coming to a stop as she parks on the driveway. Talking about the things you’ve noticed about Hawkins that you did not have from where you used to live. The town kept tons of things that made it look like its stuck in the 80s and 90s. Drive through movies, vintage theaters, a mall called “Starcourt” that have a vibrant blue and red retro sign. You quickly hopped out went straight to the car trunk and opened it,trying to grab as many bags as you can. Hearing your dad’s voice not too far, you turned around to call and ask him for help before noticing that there’s two familiar silhouettes in front of him that he is currently talking too. “Dad?” Calling him a bit louder than earlier, he turned around before Steve and Eddie followed. Your eyes widened a bit, feeling the warmth that you felt that day when you met them,both of them giving you a small wave. Awfully conscious with your choice of short shorts and oversized shirt, you turned back around and focused your gaze on the bags you are trying to carry.

“Need some help,sweetheart?” The deep timbre of Eddie’s voice made you shiver, goosebumps trailing over your arms. He’s already grabbing some bags, taking the ones on your hands too. “T-thanks..” you mumbled, trying to put some space between you and him so he can carry the bags easier. Quickly shutting the trunk, you see your parents talking to Steve,clearly laughing at whatever he said. You and Eddie walked towards them, trying to grab some bags on the way even though he’s too stubborn. “Oh goodness, thank you!” Your mom exclaimed “would you gentlemen like to come in and stay for dinner? I’ll be making my casserole,which everyone says that they love. I’ll love to put that statement to the test.” Your mom asked them both,already opening the door with your dad following her “It’ll be our pleasure” Steve answered,throwing a grin on your way which made you give him a small smile back when your dad grabbed his attention,letting his eyes wander on your body for the last time before immersing himself on another round of sports talk.

Everything’s going well on their end,it seems.

Dinner went by smoothly.

Your parents seem to love them both already,smooth talking their way on several topics that mostly focused on you in which your parents are happy to tell them about. Your mom was telling them how you are always on top of your class and subjects you find interesting. Your hobbies, your achievements, your preference in food even. While your dad tells them how you kicked a bully on 8th grade, when you did something funny in the middle of the grocery aisle that your mom snorted too loud. This made Steve and Eddie looked at you while you try to hide your face, blushing while whining “mom, dad, my god stop”. They were both taking mental notes, thinking of ways how to pamper you, how to take care of you while also how to defile you. It was a mixture of gentleness and filth, the gentle part only there to make you open up to them and their desires. After helping you mom in cleaning up and washing the dishes, you excused yourself and said goodnight to everyone, yawning on the way to the stairs to go up to your room.

Througout the dinner, Eddie cannot help but steal glances your way. How lovely you look in that oversize shirt that he wishes was his, how it showcases your neck and enough skin to leave it in his imagination, already looking forward to painting it with hickeys. He hates the fact that this is Steve’s “plan”. He hates the fact that he needs to take things slow, but he knows that all this planning and acting on it will be worth it.

And seeing Steve’s massive grin when your parents asked them after a week if both of them can look after you as they work all the time and how they don’t want you to feel alone in a new town, it is indeed worth it.

By the time your parents left after a few days of getting told that they will be out of town for a week, you quickly found yourself in your room, burying your whole body underneath your blanket. That gnawing feeling of loneliness is now back after feeling your happiest for the past few weeks.

Your eyes slowly becoming blurry as your tears cascade down your cheeks, your hands trying to wipe every single tear away though it just kept on coming. You hated how the empty house kind of made your sobs grow louder in your ears, covering your mouth to muffle it out. The ringing of the doorbell halted your sobs, turning into sniffles while you stand up and try to look presentable on the way to your door. Only wearing your oversized sweater, you adjusted it and wore your house slippers. With one last look at a mirror near your hallway, you opened the door to find Steve and Eddie.

“Hey, sweetheart! We were supposed to come here earlier but got stucked in traffic.” Eddie explained,looking down while adjusting his watch that kept on getting too loose for his liking,. “Yeah, sorry for the sudden visit honey. They have mentioned that they’re leaving for a week and if we can look after you— why are your eyes red?” Steve asked, looking at your face intently, his smile now replaced with a scowl. The statement made Eddie look up quickly, his soft demeanor quickly changing like Steve’s. Your lower lip was jutted in a pout, trembling while you try to stop yourself from crying. “I- I’m— Mr. Harrington.. Mr. Munson—“ you tried to answer that you’re fine, just feeling off but your voice wobbled and suddenly you cannot stop your tears from spilling. Both men went rigid because of what you called them before snapping themselves out of it. They can appreciate your tear-stained cheeks later if it was in a different situation.

Steve immediately stepped inside and wrapped his arms around you, his bigger frame enveloping your body in a warm embrace. All the emotions that you were trying to keep at bay now coming out, sobbing in his chest. Steve had one of his arms wrapped around you, his hand resting on your lower back while the other holds your nape gently, drawing soft circles to calm you down. The action made you cry harder, your hands finding its way on his shirt, clutching on it tightly. “Oh baby, its okay. Its okay. We’re here” He tried to calm you down, feeling his breath on top of your head as he continue to gently rub your back. Eddie closed the door, concern written on his face as he watches his friend hold you. “How about we move to the couch, pretty girl?” Steve said, his voice laced with softness. He felt you nod on his chest, still sniffling as him and Eddie guided you to the couch. You already missed Steve’s warmth. His scent,a mix of something sweet and tart, like cherries laced with vanilla, filled your senses the moment he wrapped his arms around you. You did not dare to look at them once you sat down, feeling embarrassed about crying, and about wanting to be hugged by either of them. “Sweetheart, can you please tell us whats wrong?” Eddie softly asks, placing his hand on your knee while Steve sat down on the other side, holding your arm and rubbing it in an comforting manner. “I just— I feel so lonely.” Wiping your tears using the sleeves of your sweater, you continue “I can usually ignore it but today I’m—“ you covered your face out of embarrassment, out of thinking that they must have been annoyed by now with how much of a crybaby you are. “Oh sweet girl, come here. You don’t need to feel shy about this” Eddie said, shuffling closed to you and wrapping his arms around you, he rested his head on top of yours. Your smell intoxicating him as he take deep breaths. You gripped his arms, letting his scent consume you like Steve’s. His is a mix of cigars and grapefruit. You looked up at him with doe-eyes, his hand quickly catching your falling tears. “Me and Steve are here now, yeah? You won’t feel alone now.”

He whispered, hand now caressing your cheek in a loving manner while he looks straight to your eyes. You stared at his long lashes, pink lips that looks too soft, cheeks kissed by the sun with how there are freckles here and there up close. Steve’s arm wrapped themselves around you as you face Eddie, resting his head on your shoulder. He had let his hands wander, playing with the hem of your sweater. “Our sweet girl..” he whispered directly to your ear. You shivered, a foreign feeling crawling under your skin while you gasped. Your stomach twisting into something that is uncomfortable but at the same time pleasurable.

“No more days and nights feeling lonely..” Eddie swiped his thumb on your lips, watching you let go of your bottom lip that you did not realized you’ve been biting. “We’re now with you all the time, your parents told us to look after you. Take care of you..” Steve’s hands began to crawl their way upwards, his hands now caressing your bare thighs, before realizing you’re only wearing an underwear underneath which made him release a deep groan. You froze, feeling wetness pool in the middle of your legs. “M- Mr. Harrington..” you tried to close your legs, changing your position on the sofa before Eddie stopped you and held your face to make you look back at him again “Shhh.. its alright, sweetheart. This is how you forget. This is how you can forget how lonely and sad you’ve felt.” You tried to focus on what he was saying but Steve’s hands are now playing with the lace of your panties while also peppering soft kisses on your neck, making you release a whimper. You felt Steve’s smirk on your neck before sucking your skin, leaving his mark on you, Eddie’s pupils now blown wide with lust and desire. You continued to whimper before feeling Eddie’s lips on you. You gripped his arms, trying to control his pace, as the rational part of your brain screams how wrong it is to kiss your neighbors that were just trying to comfort you. Eddie grabbed both of your arms with one hand and pinned it to your side, while the other held your face to crane your head back a bit to let him kiss you deeper.

Steve continued his assault on your underwear, pushing your underwear down before hiking your sweater up to expose your pussy. He moaned on your neck when he touched your bare cunt that is soaking wet, fingers swiping your juicy lips before he lifted it to know what you taste like. “God, honey. You taste so sweet. So fucking sweet.” One of his hand now holds your hip still, the other going back to play with your pussy. He found your clit and kept on rubbing it in a pace that made you buck your hips. You threw your head back, Eddie quickly latching his mouth on the other side of your neck. You moaned at all the sensations you’re feeling, everything foreign but welcomed with how you unconsciously try to open your legs wider to let Steve’s thick fingers play with you more. Your mind is slowly becoming blank, pleasure numbing all the other emotions you were feeling earlier with how good they’re touching you. Eddie’s kisses travelled lower, hiking your sweater up to release your breasts before him. His mouth quickly finding your hardened nipple, sucking it hard while your other nipple gets toyed with his calloused fingers, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger. Breathy moans left spit-slicked lips, catching hold of Steve’s hair. The tight hold on his hair urged Steve to finally soak his fingers on your cunt, one thick finger breaching its way inside you. “Fuck!” Steve exclaimed as you moaned loudly, watching how his finger disappears while he build his pace.

Feeling you relaxed, he added another finger that made your eyes roll back. With Eddie still sucking your nipples and leaving hickeys all over your chest, and Steve’s unforgiving fingers pumping in and out of your pussy, you were starting to see white. “Yes baby, that’s it. Oh, how can you be this pretty? Even the sounds you’re making— jesus, I’m gonna explode.” Eddie mumbled on your skin, continuing his actions to your sensitive nipples. “Fucking perfect for us, made for us—“ Steve grunted, rubbing your clit using his thumb. You clenched on his fingers, the pleasure slowly becoming too much for you. “Mr. Harrington—“ you tried to call out to him, wanting to grab his arm but forgetting that Eddie is still holding it in place. “Yeah, baby? Feeling too good?” Drool pooled around your lips, losing your train of thought. High-pitched moans leaving your lips continously as Steve furrowed his eyebows in concentration. He felt you clench on his fingers, hips bucking to meet his fingers to which he knows that you’re close to cumming. “S-stop please— M-Mr. Harrington- it feels weird,I’m gonna pee—“ you tell him with shaky breaths, trying to stop the urge to not embarrass your self further. Steve chuckled, quickening his pace. Eddie inserted his thumb on your mouth, to which you immediately suck. He groaned at the feeling of your tongue enveloping his thumb and to the sight of your tear-stained cheeks and drooling mouth with how fucked out you are. One thrust of Steve’s fingers towards the spongey texture made you trembled, releasing Eddie’s thumb to let out a high-pitched moan. Steve continued before whispering on your ear. “Let go, our good girl.” He gave your neck a kiss, before feeling you still underneath them with your eyes rolled at the back of your head. Your legs quiver, creamy white cum now coating Steve’s fingers.

You whined when Steve took out his fingers, lapping your up your cum before offering his fingers to Eddie. “Taste her.” He said, Eddie quickly lapping your creamy release on Steve’s fingers while staring at your figure. He let out a deep groan, closing his eyes while he savours your flavor on his tongue. “Like fucking honey.” Both men looked at you, body coated in sweat, eyes closed with drool on your lips. Eddie took of his shirt, wiping the remnants of your cum between your legs before standing up and grabbing water for the three of you while Steve slowly arranged your position to lay you down comfortably on the sofa.

“See, honey? We got you. No more crying every night or day..” he softly talked to you, brushing your hair out of your face. He cupped your cheek on his hand, “we will be here,okay? This is what we’ll do when you feel sad and lonely. So you can forget all those.” Leaning on to his touch, you slowly opened your eyes. “B-but what about mom and dad..” you looking at him so innocently made his forgotten boner throb underneath his slacks. Not today, he told himself. “This is our little secret, yeah? Mommy and Daddy doesn’t have to know.” He gave your lips a quick peck, smiling when he watched your cheeks go pink. Eddie walked in, handing Steve your water and his. Steve made you drink a bit before letting you drift to sleep, cheeks squished on a throw pillow.

Eddie drank his water, plopping down on another chair while Steve does the same. “This is like a fucking drug.” He groaned, putting his hair in a low, messy bun. “Tell me about it” Steve combed his hair, both men watching your sleeping form in awe. “You think she won’t tell her parents?” Eddie asked, the idea making him a little nervous. “Mhm, I doubt. Besides—“ Steve looked at Eddie with a smirk, before he moves to fix your sweater from exposing your bare ass more to them. “You still have that video camera, right, Munson?” Eddie chuckled darkly to his friend, nodding his head. “Yeah. I still have it.” He looked directly at Steve’s eyes, mimicking the devilish grin of the other.

“You’re evil. And you know it. Don’t you, big boy?”

[microtyalm13]

How would your ocs react to a partner whos very vocal and loud in bed, like every moment they can't go without spouting some type of praise. . . ask, totally not based on a chat im having - 🐠🎩

mmmhehehhe... < З I LIKE THIS QUESTION DEAR FISH ANON. okaaaayyy lessgooo.... also feel free to send me more questions like this one, it was fun to write for everyone <3 deity, naga, monster under the bed, kikimora, fallen god, mothman x reader. derzena x fem!reader, the rest is gender-neutral. there could be mistakes and im npt s orrty

gavriil. — the louder you are the better, honestly. gavriil here is a provider, he cares about your pleasure more than his own, so there's nothing more rewarding than to hear your voice break so deliciously. sex with him is a praising galore... loves receiving it too! he's very talkative and mostly breathes heavily or hums in amusement/delight. if you don't want to make noise on principle, that's a whole different story. will take it as a challenge. will fuck the noises out of you. breaking your indifferent facade until you're nothing but a drooling, whining mess always makes him so smug and proud.

xiaolong. — prefers it if you're at least somewhat vocal because he want to hear how good he makes you feel, so you being so unashamed is perfect for him. loves cutting off your never-ending stream of sweet words and whimpers by kissing you. will remind you to keep it down sometimes though, because "you don't want the whole inn to hear your pretty moans now, do you? they're reserved for my ears only, isn't that right, dear? mmhm, that's it". can't get enough of how lovely your voice sounds when you call out his name. will probably tease you about that later...

taisya\tasechka. — when he's balls deep inside of you, he would absolutely not care. he won't even hear you probably, driven blindly by his instincts and desires. that's why when you want him to stop or give you a second for whatever reason, you need to show it with your body language. give him a pat, a punch (he won't mind), a squeeze. he pays much more attention to how your body moves and shudders underneath him, how your breathing patterns change. values your physical participation more than anything else. this guy is also pretty loud himself, though his noises are not very... pleasant on the ears and sometimes his voice morphs in funny ways, giving that uncanny edge to his low whines and growls.

derzena. — she will be... a bit surprised. she didn't have many lovers, and most of them were pretty quiet and/or shy in her presence (no wonder, bc she has a very... intimidating stare). at first she will think she did something wrong, or, heavens forbid, hurt you. derzena is a very careful woman, mainly because she's very aware of her sizes and strength. but once you reassure her and tell her that you're just very vocal in bed, she'll except it and will move on. she'll learn to love it very quickly, silently relishing in your gasps and loud pleas. she might lose herself for a good while between your legs, eating you out for hours and pushing her thick, smooth tongue deeper into your pussy to see if she can make you even louder.

veniamin. — oh he is so mean. likes it when you're loud just because he gets to shut you up. a hand clasped tightly over your mouth or pushing your face into the pillow, he doesn't care as long as you're keeping up the volume and writhing under him. when he's feeling gracious enough he'll let you ride him and babble all you want. until then, he'll keep calling you a desperate little thing, mocking the noises you make <З despite that, he also loves it when you talk back or insult him in return. it's the "missionary, so we can keep arguing" for him. smug fucker wants nothing more than to rile you up and then make you whine in disappointment by ruining your orgasm... for the fourth time in a row.

livy. — he hasn't had much experience with humans before, so he thinks it's perfectly normal for you to express yourself the way that you do. livy thinks it's very pretty actually, and won't stop you, because no one will hear you in the middle of the forest, where his cave resides. except for him, of course <з lets out happy chirps and clicks in return, or hisses sweetly when your little hole squeezes him so tightly. will ask how you feel very frequently, seeking your approval. might get too excited and get a bit rough, fucking you into the ground, trying to stuff you full of his cock despite you being so much smaller in comparison to him.

[alexthetrashyracoon]

CW// None, English isn’t my native language, mistakes are part of the experience, enjoy them with care.

Likes/Shares/Reblogs and Comments are highly appreciated <3

Don’t be shy to send in requests lovelies <3

Simon, when off-duty for a few days, likes exploring his neighborhood. That’s how he found about that small bakery that made amazing garlic bread, the owners an elderly couple that immigrated from Italy back in the sixties, keeping the bakery running together with their seven children and the oldest grandchildren.

He found a small flower store hidden between apartment complexes that were also a bookstore and a small cafe, the owners were nice people, one of them had served too, but got blown up and ended up medically discharged. Sometimes Simon and her exchanged stories but most of the time they just co-existed.

So color Simon surprised when his feet carried him to another cafe, just a cafe without any dilly dally around it.

But you work there, and you are a bit like the sun. Burning hot and mean as hell.

“No, Lady, with all due respect but I can’t make you an omelette without eggs. If I could, trust me I wouldn’t work in this shithole.” You say annoyed, staring down a woman that demands stupid stuff from you.

The line isn’t too long, so Simon just listens with amusement as you argue with the woman until she scoffs and turns around while telling everyone willing to listen that the youth of today doesn’t know how to work anymore and all the usual stuff.

“Anyone else having stupid questions and requests? Ask now or be quiet forever because otherwise I will explode.” You call, leaning onto the counter.

Simon doesn’t know what makes him reply, he didn’t plan on getting your attention. “Can I take you out on a date?” He hears himself and everyone is looking at him.

Simon isn’t shy, god forbid he can’t be. He’s awkward sometimes, but not shy.

“Friday, seven o’clock. Be on time.” You grin before you return to take the next order.

He leaves the store without asking your name or anything, just happy to learn more about you on your date on Friday.

[thisgirlnamedblusy]

Hey! 😊 I’ve had this idea for a while now but kept putting off typing it out. Here it goes!

Donna and reader have been dating for some time, and everything has been going great. They’ve managed to keep their relationship a secret because Donna wants to protect reader from the other lords and believes that discretion is the best way to keep them safe.

One day, while they’re making out (or doing something else that clearly shows they're in a relationship), Mother Miranda unexpectedly appears and catches them. She becomes furious, telling reader that she'll only distract Donna and hinder her ability to oversee the village and do her job. The confrontation gets really intense and angsty, and as a punishment, Miranda sends reader to Castle Dimitrescu, forbidding Donna from seeing her ever again.

However, during a visit to the castle to see Alcina, reader manages to convince Miranda to allow her to be with Donna again. When reader finally returns to Donna’s house, she finds Donna completely broken. The moment Donna sees reader, she rushes in for a tight hug, breaking down into tears and declaring that she will never let anyone take her away again.

Thank you! 💖

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

Forbidden love

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Angst, fluff,

Word count: 8,055

Summary: Your love is a secret, but it can't keep being anymore...

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

The mansion was dark, gloomy even during the day but… For some time now, you stopped seeing it that way. The cracked walls slowly became a refuge for you, a place that protected you, where you felt safe.

The sound of the waterfall penetrated your ears, relaxing you, taking you away from any strange thoughts, from any worries. Love, you could only feel love, you could only think of her, of the warm atmosphere that surrounded you.

There was no longer fear in that dark place, there were no more cries, no more laments; only laughter, kisses, caresses, soft words that served to remind you where you were, why you wanted to be there.

The soft caresses of her hands on your hair, the relaxing sound of her breathing, her perfume impregnated in your clothes, her presence captivating your soul, everything was like a dream come true, like the conquest of an impossible goal, a utopian and unattainable objective. At least that's what you thought when you started to fall in love with her, that it was impossible.

Donna Beneviento, Lord, sick and dangerous woman, the lady of fear, of sinister dolls... It didn't seem like falling in love with a woman like her could have a happy ending, a fairy tale ending. You were wrong.

Your eyes had met several times; sighs had left your lips at the same time. So close, but so far. Nothing could make you, a simple villager, with no greater talent than your blind faith in the Black Gods, manage to attract her attention.

But again, being wrong was one of your greatest flaws, or one of your greatest virtues, you weren't sure.

Soon you began to get closer, to maintain that gaze you couldn't see, to focus on every detail of her dress, on the pale skin that could be distinguished on her hands. You would never take the first step. You would never even be able to hear her voice.

Mistake after mistake, prejudice after prejudice, those teenage dreams of that lady in black falling in love with you took shape little by little, almost without you realizing it.

A shy greeting, a tea, a conversation… Feats that fate granted you when you saw yourself lost in your own thoughts, in the love you felt irrationally for that mysterious lady, and after too much time, the kiss came.

A chaste, almost cold, innocent kiss she gave you for simply saying what you thought, for seeing the face that hid that black veil and discovering a beauty that you already knew existed. It could have been a reflex action, an involuntary movement of her dark soul when she heard that someone in that village didn’t say she was a monster, that she was beautiful.

Her intentions or thoughts didn’t matter to you, you only cared about that kiss, her soft lips on yours, her hands on your skin, the fact that you stopped dreaming, to live the reality, one that made you not want to sleep, that made your dreams mediocre compared to her kisses, with her whispers of love, with that smile when she saw you every morning… To hell with dreams.

You had become the girlfriend of fear, of death, of darkness, but… Did that matter to you? Not at all.

Moving to that mansion was the best of your decisions, the best of your compulsive behavior, the greatest success of your life. You never believed it was a mistake, not even for a second.

“You said you wanted to read with me,” her soft voice took you out of your own memories, her smile entered your soul to caress it gently, to remind you again and again that it was not a dream.

You smiled back, settling into her lap, lying on her just to enjoy that company you believed would be eternal.

“I'm fine,” you said with a sweet voice, with your hands traveling towards her, caressing her imperfect, but perfect for you, face. “Besides, I don't understand what it says.”

“Mm,” Donna murmured, lowering her head to kiss you, to mitigate the voracious hunger your lips had with hers. “Maybe you'd like to do something different.”

“No, no, I'm fine,” you said with a nervous smile, sighing, closing your eyes so her soft caresses on your hair would intensify, so nothing else existed in that mansion, just Donna.

“We could do something together,” the lady said, leaving the book aside, focusing all her attention on you, only on you. “How about making some cookies?”

You pretended to think about it, but you shook your head, smiling mischievously.

“I'd like to take a walk with you, you know, walk hand in hand through the forest…” you murmured, looking at her from below with bright, pleading eyes.

Her tender gaze faded, her eye separated from yours for a moment and a sad sigh came out of her lips.

“You know we can't, tesoro,” she whispered softly, with an apologetic look.

Your heart beat confused, hurt by the truth of her words.

“Um…” you protested, sitting with your arms crossed, frustrated by hearing the same answer over and over again. “Don't get me wrong. Being here with you is wonderful but… I wish I could go for a walk with you from time to time, you know, a romantic dinner in the moonlight… ”

“I know, amore mio, I know,” she said, with the same sad tone, pinching your cheek affectionately, turning so she could take your hand, as if hers felt the same addiction to your skin that yours had. “But we…”

“Yeah, I know, we can't,” you completed her sentence, that terrible mantra that took you out of your dream life. “I don't understand it, Donna.”

Your words were tinged with rage, with unfulfilled desires that blurred the happiness you lived in, that reminded you of what your parents repeated so many times: You can't have everything.

Yes, you could have Donna, she had you, you kissed her, you caressed her, you gave her all the love your little heart could hold but... You couldn't leave that house.

At first you thought that maybe it was due to her understandable fear of losing you, her jealousy, her sick possessiveness. Well, you weren't completely wrong but, there was something else, there was something that prevented you from living that relationship fully.

For Donna you were like a miracle, a fragile possession that could break at any moment, something to protect, something to fight for. That romantic feeling could be good, and it was, but it was just a small part of her absurd fears.

Lady Beneviento was a Lord, a powerful one. You were a stupid, love-struck villager who gave up the boring path young girls like you had. No one could, no one would ever dare to question the lady in black, and you knew it. The village was sinister, but among its rules there was nothing about the prohibition of loving whoever you wanted.

No, that was not the problem, it never was. Problems had names. They were in the form of a dark raven: Mother Miranda, the Lords.

Donna's siblings, Mother Miranda, those were the risks, the real dangers in your relationship.

According to the lady in black, someone like you would be like leaving a piece of meat near a lycan. You would be in danger, everyone would envy her because, in her own words: everyone would want to take you away from her.

You thought they were nothing but absurd worries of her wounded mind, that it was just jealousy, even fear that one of them would steal the heart that already belonged to her. It didn't seem that way, she was truly afraid of them.

And so your relationship was hidden, camouflaged by the sound of the wind. Your kisses and caresses, the nights of passion, were hidden behind the sound of the waterfall. You were like two ghosts who loved each other in the shadows.

Ghosts or not, you got used to living that way, but little by little, the delusions and desires of a young girl like you were overshadowing the pleasure of that tranquility, of that feeling of security that Donna felt by keeping you as a secret.

Those feelings began to bring out the worst in you, your selfishness, your own absurd jealousy. When Donna was at home you existed, when she wasn't, you didn't.

“We've talked about this many times, tesoro...” she sighed, shaking her head, her radiant face darkening at your words. “I'm sorry it has to be this way but…”

“Yes, yes, it's the best for us…” you said tiredly, bringing out your capricious side again, getting angry in a childish way.

“(Y/N),” Donna murmured, cupping your face in her hands, staring at you, fighting your stupid attempts to push her away. “If I lost you…”

“It's not about that, Donna,” you interrupted again, sighing, playing with the fabric of your dress. “I know it's to protect me, but what harm can it do to walk around with you? It's your land, no one will see us.”

“You can never know, (Y/N), the Black Gods are watching,” the lady commented, running her thumb over your skin, silencing your protests with her soft caresses.

“You mean Mother Miranda is watching,” you corrected with a mocking smile, relaxing the tension in your body. “You should tell her, Donna, I'm sure…”

“Hey, you dirty villager! Let my Donna go!” the Angie doll, inevitable guardian of your secret, approached you, climbing onto the sofa and waving her limbs.

“Angie, lasciala stare,” Donna ordered, angry at her doll's mocking attitude, at her constant attacks on you, ones that you knew weren't serious. To tell the truth, you got along quite well.

“You cheesy, clingy Donna!” the puppet scolded her, causing the lady to laugh shyly as she quickly kissed you. “Disgusting Donna!”

“Hey, come on, Angie, don't be jealous,” you said with a mocking purr, kissing the lady again just to annoy that sinister puppet.

“Me, jealous!? Please…” the doll protested, just as you wanted it to do. “Let her go, let her go, she has work to do.”

“Work?” you asked curiously, letting Angie comically untie your fingers. “I thought you were done with your dolls for today,” you said, looking at Donna, who frowned, drawing the puppet back with a gesture of her hand.

“And it's true, I don't have any more work,” she murmured, a little confused. “Angie,cosa vuoi dire?”

“Are you deaf? Didn't you hear the phone?” the doll asked.

Donna and you looked at each other confused, smiling mischievously. No, there were better things to do than to keep an eye on that thing.

“Yeah, I guess you didn’t,” the doll murmured, walking across the couch and pushing Donna by the shoulders with ridiculous force. “Meeting! There's a meeting, silly Donna!”

“Meeting?” Donna asked, shaking off the doll's annoying movements. “When?”

“Exactly…” the doll said, pretending to look at a non-existent wristwatch. “Half an hour ago.”

“What?!” the lady shrieked nervously, getting up from the couch immediately, ignoring your pleading look. “Cavolo, Angie, why didn’t you tell me?”

“Didn't you say you were busy?” the puppet mocked, causing the lady to growl in annoyance. “You're going to be late again,” she sang.

“If you told me before, I'd never be late,” the woman in black protested, searching the entire room for her black veil.

“If you weren't making out with (Y/N) all day long, I could tell you,” Angie replied, crossing her arms and tilting her head towards you.

“She's right, I think I'm taking up too much of your time,” you commented amused, getting up as well and taking the veil she was almost desperately looking for. “Here, darling.”

“Oh, grazie…” she said with a relieved smile, playing with the black fabric in her hands. “I don't know what I'd do without you.”

“You'd probably be later because you wouldn't find anything,” you joked, kissing her wounded cheek, which she was ashamed of. “Go, honey, I'll wait for you here.”

“Okay,” she said, smoothing her dress, ready to cover her face again. “Don't worry, I won't be long.”

“Wait,” you said with a frown, grabbing Donna by the wrist. “Let, let me go with you.”

“(Y/N)…” she sighed, shaking her head. “You know that…”

“I know, I know,” you interrupted hastily, with a nervous smile on your face. “I want, I mean I can walk with you to the door.”

“Mm?” she murmured curious about your proposal, forgetting that hurry she was in a few seconds ago. You always managed that. If there was someone to blame for her continuous delays, it was you.

“That way I could walk with you through the woods, even if it was just a few minutes.”

“Tesoro… What if…?” she murmured, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear, letting your hands gently grip her waist.

“It's a very short walk, so I won't complain about you not taking me anywhere,” you joked with a childish, expectant smile. She rolled her eye and sighed, capturing your lips in a wet, short, but intense kiss.

“Mm, okay,” she finally said, walking with you towards the exit. “But just to the door.”

You nodded profusely, stealing one last kiss from her before leaving the mansion for the first time in months.

Walking with her hand in hand clouded almost all of your fears, your worries. It was a silent, peaceful, relaxing walk. The snow crunched under your feet while your hands played at caressing each other. It was perfect, a pity that the wooden door was the end of that romantic walk.

“Come back soon, okay?” you said in a soft voice, your hands swinging with hers. A beautiful smile came to your eyes again, that loving smile you only thought you saw when you looked in the mirror, that you never thought you would see on her face.

“Sure, tesoro…” she sighed, running one of her hands over your cheek. “We could watch a movie when I get back, what do you think?”

“Only if you make dinner,” you joked, laughing with her, giving her a tight goodbye hug.

“Okay,” she said, laughing, without taking her gaze off yours.

“Hey, Donna,” you said when the warmth of her body left yours. “Won't you give me a goodbye kiss?”

The lady approached again, pulling your waist in a romantic, chivalrous way.

“Just one?” she asked with a hoarse voice, whispering in your ear before fulfilling your request, kissing you deeply, not wanting to let you go.

“Ahem,” a different voice, one that was not Angie's, bounced off the trees in the forest, startling you.

“Who's there?” the lady asked, looking around scared, just like you.

A shadowy figure, with golden claws, appeared in a dark cloud. The priestess of the Black Gods, the owner and mistress of the village, Mother Miranda.

The lady in black opened her eyes wide, moving her arms to hide you behind her body. You could hear her heart beating fast, similar to yours.

“Mother Miranda,” she whispered with a broken voice. “What are…?”

“Shut up,” the witch interrupted. “Well, well, what do we have here? You, come out,” she ordered, forcing you to look out and walk next to Donna, with your head down and your hands together in a sign of respect.

“M-Mother Miranda,” you whispered, feeling completely unprotected if it weren't for Donna keeping you by her side, with a hand on your shoulder.

“How curious… I've been wondering for months why my youngest daughter was neglecting her tasks… She was late for meetings, she didn't seem to be in this world… Well, more than usual,” Miranda commented, with a mocking tone that put your nerves on edge.

“It's not what it seems,” Donna whispered, with a dangerous tone, but inevitably scared.

“No? And what is it?” the witch joked, slowly approaching you, lifting your chin with one of her golden claws, looking at you with feigned interest. “Because I think you were kissing this beauty.”

“Le, leave her alone,” Donna murmured, with a dark look, annoyed by the priestess's touch on your face. “She h-hasn't done anything wrong.”

“Oh, you defend her, that gives you away even more, dear,” Miranda said, laughing mockingly, letting you go, letting the dollmaker's arms surround your body, keeping it safe. “Look…”

“(Y/N) is… Is… My girlfriend,” Donna said, keeping you close to her, diverting your head with her hand so you wouldn't look at her, so it rested on her shoulder.

“Girlfriend? You? Don't make me laugh,” Miranda said with a more mocking, unpleasant laugh, pointing her claws at you. “What a surprise... I thought you could only love your dolls...”

“You, you're wrong,” the lady hissed, still hugging you, thus evidencing the trembling of her body, the fear she felt from the woman who gave her a second chance when she had already given up, when she wanted to die. “(Y/N) is...”

“What is she? Apart from a stupid girl...” Miranda mocked again, making your insides burn. But that wasn't enough of a reason for the words to dare to leave your lips.

“Don't insult her!” Donna shrieked, enraged, terribly nervous. “She's not stupid.”

“No? What's wrong with her? What's her problem then?” the witch asked, pulling your arm to separate you, something she achieved due to her strength. “What are you, (Y/N)?”

“Please, Mother Miranda, I don't…” you stammered, hissing in pain as her golden nails dug into your skin.

“You're stupid, Donna,” the priestess said, ignoring your words. “Have you been fooled again? How many times do I have to tell you to be careful?”

“She hasn't fooled me,” Donna protested, struggling with her Goddess's grip, trying to free you from it. “She's my girlfriend, mine.”

“Yours? Please... Look, (Y/N), she's crazy about you,” Miranda said, separating you from Donna definitively, grabbing you from behind, holding your head up. “That's what you wanted, right?”

“I don't know what are you talking about,” you said shyly, nervous, scared but determined to protect the woman you loved.

“Oh, yes you do,” the witch hissed, very close to your ear. “It's not right to take advantage of someone like Donna, don't you think?”

“Mother Miranda, please, if I could explain…” Donna said, clasping her hands together, her eye wet from her imminent tears.

“Silence, Donna,” Miranda snapped, hardening her expression. “You're a stupid lunatic, how can you let yourself be fooled by these tender eyes?”

“Fooled? No, no, you’re wrong…” you protested, suddenly falling silent when you felt a strong tug on your hair. “Ah!”

“Lasciala!” the lady shouted, approaching furiously, trying to free you again from the grip of the priestess, who simply shook her head, moving away from her attempts to grab you.

“Shhh, be still, dear, if you want me not to hurt her,” the blonde threatened, putting one of her claws on your neck, exposing it in an unpleasant way.

Donna moved away, shaking her head, pulling her hair, suffering a terrible nervous breakdown that you could not relieve.

“No, no, no, no, no…” she murmured, walking erratically, out of her mind. Not even Angie could help her, she was not present, she had fled from the fury of her Goddess. “No! No! Cazzo!”

“Donna…” you sobbed, trying to get out of that fierce grip, watching how the lady in black knelt in the snow, babbling things without sense, completely losing her mind.

“You are pathetic, Beneviento… A naive woman,” the blonde hissed, with a calmer tone. “Did you really think someone could feel something for you?”

A heartbroken cry interrupted that horrible moment. The lady moved nervously, hitting the snow with her fists, babbling, cursing, screaming without any kind of control.

“You're making her nervous!” you shrieked, trying to free yourself from those golden claws. “She's having a crisis! Don't you see it?”

“How dare you to talk to me like that?” Miranda whispered, fighting your impulses to help your beloved, to comfort her.

“Let me go! I have to help her!” you screamed, with a furious push towards the priestess who finally let you go.

“Donna, Donna, my love…” you whispered, throwing yourself to the ground next to her, tightly grabbing her wrists, preventing her from hurting herself, like other times. “Don’t, don't do that… Don't hurt yourself, my love…”

“Tu mi ami!” she screamed among sobs, moving on herself desperately. You nodded, lowering her wrists, broken. “You, you don't want to hut… Hurt… Hurt me.”

“Of course not, baby… My sweet Donna, please, please stop, stop doing that,” you begged, feeling the cold snow on your knees, with your face wet from your helpless tears. “Donna…”

Miranda watched the scene with disdain, slowly approaching where you were, without saying anything, without intervening, just watching.

“Shhh, stop, stop please, my love…” you whispered, holding her head, resting her forehead against yours, breathing as calmly as possible. “Donna… Relax…”

“You're not evil…” the lady in black whispered, fighting with her demons, with the voices in her head. Her nerves had betrayed her. They had forced the woman you loved to lose control. “You're not evil… I love you…”

“I love you too, I love you so much,” you said, shaking your head, hugging Donna tightly, letting her tears soak your dress. “Don't pay attention to her, my love… She doesn't know how much I love you…”

Your crying also got out of control when you thought about how you had gotten to that situation. Your capricious and selfish side had provoked the worst of her fears: that your relationship would be discovered, by the worst possible person.

“Gods… I, I'm so sorry… It, it was my fault,” you lamented, melting into the deranged woman in an intense hug, controlling the terrible tremors of her body, the curse she carried with her since she was born, her madness.

“You're not going to leave me… You love me…” Donna stammered, a bit calmer thanks to your well-learned breathing exercises.

“Yes, yes darling, I love you, you're the love of my life,” you repeated in a low voice, keeping her gaze with yours, relieved to see that little by little, the madness disappeared from her eye.

“Mm, it seems I was wrong about you, (Y/N),” Miranda murmured, bending down to observe the situation, how your words were the best of relaxants for the lady in black. “You seem to know Donna very well.”

“Yes, Mother Miranda,” you said without paying attention to her, wiping the tears from the brunette's face. “Her well-being is the only thing that concerns me.”

“I see,” the witch sighed. “Lift her up.”

You nodded, obeying carefully, holding Donna by the arms, standing up.

“That's it my love... You're so good, Donna,” you said in a comforting tone, holding the lady in place, checking how her body relaxed, something her breathing was unable to do. “Calmati, amore mio…”

“You're good at it,” the witch commented, brushing the brunette's hair away, who growled at her touch. “Not any stupid villager would put up with someone like her.”

“Don't talk that way about her,” you hissed, clenching your fists tightly as the bird woman smoothed your lover's dress.

“Maybe you are stupid,” Miranda said, with a sardonic smile. “Don't you know who you're talking to?”

“Mother Miranda… Don’t, don't hurt her, I beg you…” Donna murmured, in a hoarse tone, broken by tears, her gaze fixed on the snow. You, seeing that she had already woken up from that terrible attack, approached her, holding her hand tightly. “(Y/N) is the most important thing in my life.”

“Mm, I see…” the witch said, with an amused tone that unhinged you even more. “More important than your duties as a Lord?”

“More important than my own life,” the lady in black hissed, adopting a protective pose again, not wanting to let your hand go.

“How romantic…” Miranda sighed, rolling her eyes camouflaged in a horrible mask. “Look, my terrible daughter is capable of love. I would never have imagined it.”

“Basta,” Donna said.

“No, no, I'm the one who says basta, dear…” the priestess said, walking around you like what she was, a carrion bird. “How many times have you been late to meetings? How many times have you ignored masses to the Gods? Do you know how many stupid monster hunters have come to the village?”

“I don't know,” the lady said, defeated, embarrassed by her words, keeping you close to her.

“Oh, you don't know,” Miranda said, crossing her arms haughtily, giving a soft slap to Donna, a mocking one, one that didn't mean to hurt her, but to humiliate her. “Stupida…”

“I'm sorry,” Donna said, totally helpless, avoiding looking at her Goddess, her Mother.

“I'm sorry…” the blonde mocked, with an expression that feigned surprise. “Save your apologies, Donna. You have neglected your duties, your position as a Lord. Tell me, what will the villagers think if they realize that my fearsome daughter, Lady Beneviento, no longer behaves like one?”

“Please, Mother Miranda,” you interrupted, catching her attention when she grabbed Donna by her chin, squeezing her face tightly. “Leave her alone, please.”

She let your beloved go, approaching you again with a dangerous step, with a sinister laugh.

“It's all, it's all my fault, Mother Miranda. I, I have distracted her…” you confessed, trying to free Donna from a severe punishment, from the fury of the Black Gods.

“You… Of course it was you, what else could it be?” Miranda murmured, laughing mockingly again. “You are the one to blame, of course.”

“No!” Donna shrieked, shaking her head, putting herself between you and her Goddess to try to protect you from her wrath. “It's not her fault!”

“She said it was, and look… I believe her,” the blonde said, unfazed by Donna's aggressive gesture. “What do we do with you now?”

“Please don't hurt her, please, Mother Miranda,” Donna hissed, with darkness in her voice, but also a desperate plea. “Please…”

“You've got her crazy, huh?” the witch said, looking at you. “Well, okay… I feel merciful today.”

The two of you looked at each other with a smile of relief, believing that the danger had passed. Nothing could be further from the truth.

“Get Alcina,” the witch whispered to a nearby crow, which made an ominous sound after flying away.

You didn't hear it, and neither did Donna. The two of you were hugging each other, whispering to each other that everything would be okay, how much you loved each other, how much you would be able to fight for your love.

“Say goodbye to her, Donna,” Miranda said, interrupting those soft and fearful kisses, those intense caresses.

“What?” the lady in black said, moving away from your hold and looking at the priestess with a frightened expression.

“You don't expect me to let that silly girl distract you anymore, do you, dear?” Miranda murmured, with a passive gesture with her golden hands.

“What?” you asked, confused, protected again by the arms of your beloved.

“You have me fed up, Donna, I'm fed up with you not being able to maintain your status as Lord because of a stupid girl,” the witch hissed. “You should thank me. I'm not going to hurt her.”

“What are you going to...?” the lady asked, backing away from something you still couldn't see, quickly putting on the black veil that rested in the snow.

“How fast,” Miranda said, amused, as a long shadow appeared next to you.

“I wasn't far from here.” A sensual voice, a huge size, an elegant step, a snow-white dress. The first Lord, the lady of the castle, Alcina Dimitrescu, appeared behind the wooden door, staring at you.

“Her,” the witch said, pointing at you. “Take her.”

“What?!” Donna protested, hugging you tighter, angrily looking for a place to escape. There wasn't one. “No, no!”

“Yes, yes, and yes, Donna,” Miranda mocked. “(Y/N) is not good for you.”

“No, please...” you begged, noticing how the lady of the castle had put her interest in you.

“Enough of your complaints. The girl will serve in the castle as punishment for your incompetence, Beneviento.”

“No!” Donna shrieked again, interrupted by a strong grip on her shoulder, which almost made her let you go.

“Did I miss something?” Alcina asked, clearing her throat to get your attention.

“This girl will be your new maid,” Miranda said, sighing, pointing at you with her finger. “I trust there will be no objections.”

“None, Mother Miranda,” Alcina murmured, reaching out to grab you.

“Don’t touch her! Don’t touch her!” Donna protested. “She’s mine!”

“Yours?” Alcina asked, looking curiously at the lady in black.

“No, not anymore…” Miranda sighed, shaking her head. “Take her away at once.”

“No, I won’t let you! You can’t take her away from me!” Donna shouted angrily, holding you tightly against her, something Miranda prevented with a strong tug on your hair.

“Do you prefer that I take her life? Because that's what I'm going to do if I hear you say one more word,” the priestess threatened, pushing you hard against the lady in white, who was still confused by the situation.

Donna shook her head, crying again, trying to reach you without success, the witch prevented her.

“You will not see her again, do you hear me? I forbid it,” Miranda hissed, holding the furious Lady Beneviento, who was unable to say anything but curses or insults in Italian.

“No, Donna!” you shouted, grabbed by the waist by the lady of the castle, reaching out your hand to hers while she did the same.

The tips of your fingers touched, as a last attempt at farewell. You growled to be able to touch her, to be able to enjoy the softness of her hands one last time.

“(Y/N)! (Y/N)!” Donna shrieked, being dragged away from you by Miranda. “No!”

“Donna!” you screamed with all your might, lowering the hand that was unable to touch hers, retreating from the grip of the lady in white, who pulled you. “Donna!”

It was over.

There would be no more kisses, no hugs, no caresses. Your whole life, that dream you were living became a nightmare. You couldn't go back to her, you couldn't love her, you couldn't even see her. All because of you.

Your absurd desires and your lack of understanding of the danger had taken you to hell, to a place far from her. You couldn't imagine something so unfair, you couldn't imagine waking up and not seeing Donna by your side.

“Do you want anything else, my lady?” you said in a sad voice, after having spent entire nights crying, longing for her kisses, her hands, serving the Dimitrescu family for a couple of horrible weeks, the worst of your life.

“Mm, no,” said Alcina, your mistress since that fateful day.

The phone rang, startling you as you were about to leave the room, ready for another day of nightmares, of memories that would never return

“Yes, stay,” the lady in white said, pointing to a place in front of her while impatiently expelling the smoke from her cigarette. “There.”

You nodded, head down. You couldn't ignore her orders. She was your new owner, owner of your presence, maybe one day of your body. But if there was something Alcina could never possess, your heart.

“Hello, dear…” Alcina murmured, picking up the phone with a tired sigh. “Stop crying, I don't understand you,” she protested, under your confused gaze. “Donna, stop, speak in my language, Gods…”

Donna, it was she who spoke on the other end of the phone. Your heart skipped a beat, your cheeks flushed, and your body began to tremble. You didn't know if you didn't want to be there, or if you wanted to leave to forget her presence, to force your mind, and your soul to forget that love you felt and that you could never experience again.

“Mm, thank you, Angie,” Alcina said, rolling her eyes. “Oh, yes, she's here…” she said in a seductive tone, guiding her gaze to you. “Mm, well, she's wearing the uniform that maids wear… Gods, Donna, no, it’s not about that I haven’t touch her,” she squealed, annoyed by something.

“My, my lady,” you stammered, looking at the floor, too blinded by your feelings, by the desire you had to hear her voice again. “Please, let me talk to her.”

“Wait a moment,” ​​Alcina said disinterestedly, covering the phone and sighing sadly. “I can't do that, dear.”

“Please,” you sobbed, reaching out your hand towards that phone, towards the only way you could communicate to her.

“Don't, yell, Donna!” the lady in white protested with a furious growl. “You know what will happen if I do.”

“Please…” you repeated again, your voice cracking from crying, from helplessness.

“Oh…” Alcina murmured, rubbing her eyes with a tired sigh. “I'll give you a minute,” she finally said, gesturing for you to come closer, but moving the device away when your impatient hands went to grab it. “On one condition.”

You nodded nervously.

“You're going to tell me what the hell is going on between you and my sister,” Alcina said, with an amused look.

“Yes, my lady,” you said with a sigh, picking up the phone, your whole body shaking. “Donna, it's me…”

“(Y/N), amore mio, tesoro…” the lady in black said, sobbing, just like you. “I'm so glad to hear your voice.”

“Me, me too,” you said with a radiant smile, enjoying the soft melody of her words. “Donna, I miss you so much…”

“The house is so empty without you… I can't stand it anymore…” she said, her voice breaking. “I can't…”

“Donna…” you murmured, with a tear falling on the wooden dresser. “It’s, it's all my fault…”

“No, don't say that… Don't say that, amore mio… Just, just tell me that… That… That… That you still love me as much as I love you…” the doll maker begged, with a voice increasingly broken by tears.

“I could never stop loving you, Donna, never,” you said with an angry voice, clenching your fist tightly, almost hurting yourself. “I love you, my love.”

“(Y/N), I think about you every day, every hour… I love you, I will always love you…”

“Donna…” you sobbed unable to say another word different than her name, the name of your love. “Donna…”

“(Y/N)…”

“Okay, that's enough,” Alcina said, taking the phone from your hand and hanging it up abruptly, ending that conversation.

“No!” you screamed, picking it up again, knowing that the love of your life was no longer on the other end. “Donna…”

“Well,” the lady of the castle sighed, crossing her arms and nodding to a place for you to stand. “Start talking, dear, I'm listening.”

“I love her.” You were able to say, wiping away your tears. She was now your mistress, you couldn't forget that.

“Mm, that seems obvious,” the vampire commented, offering you a cigarette that you refused. “If before I met you they told me that my dear sister has a girlfriend, well, I probably wouldn't have believed them.”

“With all due respect, my lady, but that's none of your business,” you hissed, without thinking about your words, forgetting again the dangers that surrounded you.

“Mm, how bold,” the lady in white joked, tilting her head mockingly. “It turns out that you're here for that reason. It’s my business. You're clumsy and you can't stop crying. That vase over there is a better maid than you.”

“That's because I don't want to be here,” you replied wittily, crossing your arms. “It's not fair.”

“Life isn't fair, my dear…” she murmured, shaking her head, ignoring your scorn.

“Then kill me,” you said angrily, helpless, unable to contain that burning in your chest, that lack of her heart beating against yours. “If I'm not fit to be a maid, finish me off. I have nothing left.”

“And take away poor Donna's toy? Mm, I don't think she'll take it well,” Alcina joked, with a sinister laugh. “You must be very important to her. She keeps calling me day after day, asking about you.”

“I only know how important she is to me and that… I, I've lost her,” you said, with a more confident tone, with tears threatening to run down your face again. “I'm not her toy, nor her girlfriend, I'm nothing.”

“You'd have to ask her, wouldn't you? She's very... Insistent,” the lady joked again, confusing you. “Look, dear, I'd like to let you leave my property and return to her, but...”

“You can't do it. I've heard that before,” you finished, lowering your head.

“I'd like to, dear,” Alcina said, with a softer tone, as if she were really being sincere. But even if your heart harbored that slight hope, you knew it wouldn't be possible. “You've angered Mother Miranda.”

“She's the one who's angry!” you shouted nervously. “We've done nothing but love each other! Is that now bad too? Doesn't Donna having the right to be loved? Just because she's a Lord mean she doesn't have the right to be loved?”

“Relax, little bird…” Alcina whispered, with a threatening voice. “Mother Miranda wants the best for her children.”

“Mother Miranda has no idea what's best for Donna, she only cares about this stupid village,” you growled, forgetting what you were doing, who was listening to your desperate complaints.

“And I suppose you do know, don't you?” she asked, with a soft smile, not bothered by her attitude.

“Donna has to be with me… I, I have to be with her…” you stammered, shaking your head.

Alcina sighed, putting out her cigarette.

“Mother Miranda is a woman who likes to have everything controlled, (Y/N),” the lady began, crossing her legs, with her eyes fixed on yours. “You and I know the problems Donna has. I'm not going to tell you anything you don't know.”

“That never mattered to me,” you said firmly.

“Mm… Love does those things, doesn't it?” she commented amused. “Now think: if Donna stopped paying attention to her duties because she is drawn to you like a fly to the light… How do you think that would mean to someone like Miranda?”

“Donna doesn't get distracted, it's my fault,” you confessed, remembering the many occasions in which your affection, your hugs, made a dent in the duties of the Lord.

“Of course it’s yours… I don't blame her for going towards the light of your smile,” Alcina murmured, with a seductive tone, one that caused an embarrassed smile to stand out on your face. “Well, I don't like to agree with one of my maids but… Look, I wouldn't have to tell you this but… Donna is not well.”

“I already know that,” you hissed, imagining what the hell your absence had caused must be like, the times she would have screamed, that she would have lost control. “Me neither.”

“Mm, you have no idea, dear…” Alcina whispered, with a darker tone. “Donna has not attended the meetings for two weeks, coincidence? I doubt it… Gods, I know she is alive because she doesn’t stop harassing me with her stupid calls.”

“Is Miranda's fault, she is to blame for everything,” you said, hurt by the truth of those words, by the descent that the brunette made towards the darkness again.

“You won’t hear me say something like that,” Alcina laughed, shaking her head. “You said it.”

“Then… Then do something, let me go with her,” you begged again, joining your hands.

“You are a very stubborn girl, of course you are made for each other,” the lady sighed, rolling her eyes. “I can't do anything… But you can.”

“Me? What? I'll do anything,” you said excitedly, knowing that the light inside you was shining brighter and brighter.

“Mother Miranda has a habit of having tea with me every month…” Lady Dimitrescu explained. “What a coincidence, that day is today.”

Your smile faded when you realized the situation. It didn't matter what you said, she would never give in.

“I won't be able to do anything to convince her,” you whispered furiously. “She'll never let someone like me get away with it.”

“You can't know if you don't try, dear…”

The rest of the day passed as always, sad, grey, empty. In the hallways you heard Alcina's daughters screaming, laughing out loud. You remembered Angie, you remembered those afternoons when her sinister laughter was always there to bother you. Miranda's visit would be soon…

“Enough,” the witch said while you served her tea with trembling hands. You were sure that someone like you would not have that privilege, was it Alcina's doing?

“Go away, dear,” murmured your lady, to which you nodded with your head down, standing to one side of the door.

“Did Donna call this morning?” Miranda asked with disinterest.

Your body stirred at hearing her name, but you didn’t give yourself away, you remained rooted to the spot.

“Like every day, Mother,” Alcina said, with a tired tone. “She's getting worse.”

“Mm, I suppose that... Damn stupid girl...” the witch muttered, with a look of contempt towards you. “She'll never learn.”

Alcina sighed, but nodded, agreeing with the priestess. Both Alcina and you knew she wasn’t right.

“Don't be hard on her, you know she's not right in the head,” the lady in white said. Your hands were shaking more and more.

“Mm, believe me, I know, but this is too much. She hasn't picked up the phone for days, ignoring her chores,” the witch said, looking at you out of the corner of her eye. “I suppose it's the whims of a stupid child... By the way, how is your new acquisition doing?”

“She's a pain in the ass, Mother Miranda,” your lady answered, looking at you in the same way as the priestess, studying you with her eyes. “She's clumsy, she doesn't know how to do anything and besides, my maids can't sleep because of her.”

“How is that?” Miranda asked, horribly amused.

“She don't stop crying,” Alcina said, bringing her teacup to her lips, looking at you intensely.

“I can't believe it... Come here,” the priestess said, pointing at you unpleasantly. Your body burned with fury, but you obeyed reluctantly, walking slowly, denying her the look she asked for.

“Mother Miranda,” you whispered elegantly, but revealing a certain mockery.

“I still don't understand what Donna could see in you,” she commented with a serious look, looking you up and down in a contemptuous way. “You are a simple villager.”

“Yes, Mother Miranda, I’m a stupid villager,” you repeated through clenched teeth, making the witch raise her eyebrows, with a sinister smile.

“I see that you have been taught manners,” she commented amused, settling down on the sofa. “I want you to answer my questions, (Y/N).”

You nodded slowly, looking for Alcina's help with your gaze, which came in the form of a slight nod.

“What exactly did you do to Donna to make her completely lose her mind?” she asked in a passive tone, one that did not reflect any emotion. “Answer me.”

“I don't know, Mother Miranda,” you answered sincerely, remembering that smile, the one you didn't want to forget.

“Are you comfortable here?” she asked again, nodding slightly after your stammering answer.

“Y-Yes, Mother Miranda,” you lied, earning a dark look.

“Oh, so you don't feel like going back to your dear Donna, do you?” Miranda joked, looking away to pick up her cup of tea.

“I dying to do it, Mother Miranda,” you whispered, a tear slipping down your cheek.

“Mm,” she murmured, taking a sip from her cup, tasting the tea you made and which unfortunately wasn't poisoned. “Love makes people stupid… I thought that taking my little daughter away from you would be a good punishment for having been ignoring her chores but… I see that I've only made it worse.”

“Mother Miranda, please, I beg you…” you interrupted closing your eyes, kneeling down pathetically. “Allow me to return to her side.”

“Here we go again…” Miranda murmured, shaking her head. “If I let you go… How do I know that Donna will fulfill her chores?”

“Mother Miranda, I must intervene,” Alcina interrupted, gesturing for you to stand up. “That girl may seem stupid, but she is not, believe me, I know her. I think there may be a solution that pleases us all.”

“I hear you,” the priestess said, looking away from you.

“The girl will be in charge of ensuring that Donna fulfills her obligations. It is a good idea, don't you think? If that is the only thing she responds to… Well, she will surely listen to her, if she loves her as much as she says…”

“Mm, interesting…” Miranda sighed, looking at you with interest. “There is only one way to check it. Well, (Y/N), you heard me. Go with Donna but… If she misses one more mass, one single meeting, well… I won’t be so pious anymore.”

Your face could only sketch a smile, your legs were already moving to leave through the door, but not before nodding to the lady in white, you knew that without her, nothing would have been possible.

“Thank you, Mother Miranda,” you said happily, leaving definitively through the door.

You ran out of the castle, forgetting about the cold, the snow, any stupid obstacle that interrupted your way back, back home.

“Donna?”  you said as soon as you entered the estate again.

The landscape was desolate. Battered furniture, broken plates, shattered dolls... The darkness of that place was soaked with suffering, with pain. Donna had destroyed everything, she had directed her anger towards anything that was on her way.

“Donna...” you sighed, horrified by what you saw, by being able to feel her madness through the broken glass, the dismembered dolls.

You walked stepping on the result of her fury, looking for some remains of the brunette anywhere. A dark shape in the corner indicated her position. Sitting on the floor, her head buried in her knees, was Donna.

“D-Donna,” you called again, walking quickly towards her. She didn't seem to see you. She didn't seem to hear you, to know you were there. It was a terrible sight for your fragile heart.

“Silly!” Angie shrieked, appearing behind you while you tried to move her frozen arms, to lift her head so she could see you. “You're back!”

“Of course I'm back, I couldn't…” you murmured, unable to make the Lord react, who stammered a constant mantra.

“Don't leave me, don't forget me…” she whispered with a hoarse voice, torn by her tears.

“Angie, help me,” you ordered the doll, trying to lift the lady in black off the floor, who struggled with you, pushing you away as if you were one of her demons.

“Donna, Donna! The fool is back!” Angie shrieked, tugging at her dress when you finally managed to get her to her feet.

“Donna, my love… It's me… I'm here,” you said in a soft voice, stopping her head from moving erratically.

“No…” she growled, pushing you unpleasantly. “You're not here… You're not here!”

“Honey, my love… I'm, I'm here, Mi, Miranda has released me, please, darling, react, I beg you,” you said nervously, managing to grab her hands, holding them tightly in yours.

“(Y/N),” she sighed, once her skin made contact with yours, slowly raising her gaze, her eye reddened by suffering. “(Y/N)!”

Her reaction was overwhelming. She threw herself into your arms, holding you tightly against her, kissing you desperately, almost without letting you breathe.

“Amore mio… You're back…” she whispered crying, with a romantic smile, not leaving an inch of your face unkissed. “But… But how?”

“It's known that you can't live without me,” you joked, elated, happy to have returned to the arms of your beloved. “She has allowed me to come back.”

“Oh, I… Gods… I… I'm, I'm sorry,” Donna said, nervous, caressing you, assuring herself that you weren't a hallucination.

“No, don't apologize”

“(Y/N)…” she sighed again, hugging you, pulling your dress with her hands, clinging to you to never let you go. “I will never, ever let anyone else take you away from me… I, I promise you… I love you, I love you, I love you…”

[thechaoticdruid]

[This Bites] (1)

Pairing: Astarion x F! Chubby! MC

Plot: Through some mysterious and very miraculous events, a young woman finds herself literally stuck with a character from her current video game obsession. You can guess it already. It's an isekai type fanfic. Except in this case Astarion is stuck in our modern world.  I was gonna call the MC Tav, but since the actual game character Tav is mentioned I just named her Winnie. 

Content Warnings: Death….sorta, An asshole of a stepdad, MC uses She/Her pronouns, eventual smut and sexual content in future parts. Characters may be Ooc, grammar/spelling mistakes are possible. MC has very low self esteem. Depressed MC.

Chapter One: You are here!

Chapter Two: Here!

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

“Argh I knew something would go wrong with this game!” The female huffed, staring down at her computer. Her eyes scanned over the error message titled ‘Character not found.’ She gritted her teeth in frustration. “God forbid I try mods….” 

The young woman groaned, shutting her laptop and falling back onto the bed. Apparently after finally installing a cheat mod onto Baldur's Gate 3 the game decided to retaliate and locked her out of her save files. She couldn't even create a new character either! The same ‘Character not found’ message seemed to pop up no matter what she did. The girl’s name was Winnie, a college student in her early twenties who was still living at home. Not too long ago Winnie had gotten the game upon release. She'd played it several times since then and even yet was still able to find some hidden secrets she didn't notice the first time. Honestly this game had really helped with her current state. Life had just been dull and miserable. All her friends had moved on and had their own lives now and she really wasn't the best at making new ones. 

She had a dull boring job, did online writing classes and also had to put up with the asshole her mother married. This game had been a godsend for her these past few months. It gave her an escape. A way to be someone else, at least for a little while anyway. 

Not to mention live out her somewhat cringey teenage girl fantasy of dating a walking red flag of a vampire. In this game she felt important. Like she was some badass heroine who was ready to take on any foe.  Not the shy, scared, awkward woman who she saw in the mirror.

Her cat Maddie broke Winnie from her thoughts as she hopped up onto the bed and crawled onto the young woman's chest. Winnie ran her hand over the cat's thick fluffy black fur.  Maddie gave a small mew before purring noisily and gently kneading her claws into Winnie’s chest.

Winnie sighed, scratching the sides of Maddie's face as she was soothed by the feline’s pur. 

“WINNIE! GET YOUR ASS IN HERE!!” A gruff male voice shouted from the other room, causing Maddie to jump and scramble off of Winnie and hide under the bed. 

The brunette haired girl sighed and got up, walking out of the room and cautiously stepping down the hall. 

“Yes, Brian?” Winnie spoke up as she entered the kitchen.  She looked over to see her stepfather stumbling about. Brian was a rather large man with short dark hair and beard. He was well….very unpleasant.

“Where are the goddamn car keys?” He growled out. 

“Dunno, I don't drive.” Winnie said calmly as she leaned up against the wall, “mom probably put them somewhere. Check the coffee table by the recliner.” 

Brian stomped off, a tiny tan fluff of a dog following after him.  He grabbed the keys before walking back into the kitchen. 

“I'm going to the store. Keep that stupid cat of yours in your room! It keeps shitting all over the carpet!” 

“I've told you over and over. Maddie only goes in the litter box. It's your dog that keeps making a mess in the house because you don't take him outside when he needs to go.” Winnie rolled her eyes.

“Don't fucking talk back to me! You're lucky your mother lets you stay here, if it was up to me you'd have been kicked out of here a long time ago.”  Brain snapped, making Winnie flinch a little at his tone.  “Now make sure the trash is taken out before I get back.” He said before stomping out the front door and slamming it behind him.  Winnie flinched once again at the loud sound before letting out a sigh and pulling the trash out of the can despite the fact that she distinctly remembered her mother telling Brian to take it out this morning. 

Winnie took out the trash before coming back inside heading back to her room. Her eyes scanned over her laptop as Maddie crawled out from under the bed.  She walked back over and opened the device, logging herself on before attempting to open her game back up.

[Character not found.]

Winnie groaned before filling out a bug report and then putting her computer up. She needed to get ready and go to work anyway. 

~•~•~•~•~•~•~

A few days had passed and nothing seemed to work. Winnie had disabled and deleted all the mods, sent in about a dozen but reports and still nothing. The only thing left she could try now was uninstalling the game and then reinstalling it. 

Winnie sat on the bed waiting patiently for the game to download though she knew it would at least take an hour. She pulled out her cellphone, noticing a text from her mother. The message was informing Winnie that Brian and her mom wouldn't be home until late tonight. At least this meant she'd have plenty of peace and quiet in the meantime. The young woman spread out on her bed, stretching her limbs before slowly closing her eyes, resting lazily.

Time passed as she slowly dozed off…Eventually she was awoken by the sound of beeping? It was some strange noise that she couldn't quite put her finger on. She quickly looked over to her laptop and her eyes widened as she noticed it seemed to be going crazy. Blinking and beeping.

“What the fuck!?” She exclaimed, grasping her computer and frantically clicking the mousepad. 

Then the screen went black before seemingly returning to the home screen. However, everything on the computer was gone save for one shortcut. Baldur's Gate 3.

The game’s shortcut sat in the very center of the computer, practically screaming at Winnie to click on it. She clicked it and the game opened up. 

Everything seemed to go as normal up until the title screen.  Winnie’s eyes widened in shock as she noticed all of the menu options were gone aside from (New Game).  She raised an eyebrow before clicking on the only option available and waiting as the opening cinematic played. Everything continued as it usually did. Winnie created her Tav, a human druid with an urchin background, then proceeded to hop into the game. 

Winnie did a bit of a speed run, moving through the Nautiloid as quickly as she could. She recruited Us, Lae'zel and freed Shadowheart before reaching the helm and crashing the ship.

Upon reaching the ravaged beach was when things began to get strange. 

The game buffered and blinked a bit, skipping the scene where Tav would check themselves out followed by some voiced narration. Tav was kinda just there on the beach. 

“Oh God. The game is glitching….” Winnie whined. She sighed in annoyance before clicking on the ground where she wanted Tav to walk. Winnie REALLY did not feel like uninstalling the game and waiting another hour to try again so she decided she'd play for as long as the game would allow.  Winnie had Tav wander over towards where Shadowheart would normally be laying after crash, only to find an empty space where the half elf should be.  Winnie groaned assuming it was another glitch before continuing on along the beach. While most things were there like the dead bodies and the intellect devourer enemies, Winnie did not see any sign of Shadowheart at all. Not even near the ruins where she'd be if she wasn't rescued by the player.  Winnie decided to quickly go and look for the other characters, sneaking her way past the little brain creatures and moving down the path where Astarion, the elven rogue companion, would be waiting to ambush the player.  He was Winnie’s favorite. She had a soft spot for sassy morally grey characters with tragic backstories. And he was also secretly a vampire to boot which just added to the appeal.  Winnie had her Tav approach the area before she let out a sigh of relief seeing as the vampiric elf was in his starting area shouting for help like normal. At least the game wasn't completely broken.

“Hurry I've got one of those brain things cornered.” Astarion’s dialogue began as soon as Tav got close enough to interact with him.  “There in the grass, you can kill it can't you? Like you killed the others?” 

“Uh….I kinda actually didn't kill any of them…Heheh.” Winnie chuckled before dragging her mouse over the dialogue choices.

1. [Easily, stand back.]

2. Kill it yourself. You seem capable.

3. Leave

Winnie clicked on choice 1 before her Tav walked over to check the tall grass for the intellect devourer that was actually non-existent. 

Instead a wild boar leapt from the grass and made Tav jump in surprise, giving Astarion the perfect opportunity to strike. He pinned the druid to the ground, pressing a dagger to her neck.

“Shhh…Shhh….Not a sound…Not if you want to keep that darling neck of yours.” The vampire practically purred out.  Winnie blushed, a shiver going down her spine. There was a reason she always found herself choosing the elven vampire as her character’s love interest. Initially when she first got the game she felt he came off as a pompous prick (which he is) but damn he was so fucking seductive. It drove Winnie absolutely mad. Not to mention it helped given he had sweet delicious character development later on in his story and actually could be kind of a sweetheart… To the player at least.  

The romance in this game had to be Winnie’s favorite aspect of it. She was very romantically inexperienced to say the least and this just added to what made the game her perfect escape from reality. It made her feel like someone actually liked her. Winnie prepared to select the next dialogue choice when suddenly she noticed they had changed. 

1. [……….]

2. ………..

3. ……….

4. ……….

She looked up and saw a smirk form on Astarion's lips, his eyes appeared as if he was staring back at Winnie from through the screen. Before she could speak Astarion slit Tav's throat and let them drop onto the ground.

“What. The. Fuck.” The brunette haired female went pale as she stared at her computer screen. Astarion sighed in what sounded like relief?

“Finally, we've done that old song and dance so many times! The novelty has completely worn off.” He stretched out his arms, before wiping his dagger on the ground. “It feels so invigorating to try something new, wouldn't you agree?” 

“Uhh…..What's going on?” Winnie asked aloud. She was shaking a bit in both confusion and a little fear.  Her character was kinda just laying on the ground dead…and Astarion was talking….to her!?

“Oh dear, it seems I've gone and frightened you. Ahaha!” Astarion chuckled before appearing to move closer to the screen, even going so far to place his hand on it…

“Hello darling…”

[the-hopeless-haze]

Glorious Happenings of Happenstance

Aaron Hotchner x Reader

Word Count: 7k

Warnings: mild smut

Summary: You get Aaron to accompany you to a wedding. It's the only night you have together, so you might as well make the most of it. Right? (as requested by Aaron deficiency anon)

-------

You hate your brother.

You don’t, really, you just dislike him right now, dragging your whole family to Boston for a wedding a week before you were supposed to be starting your new job. It was always like that with you two, push and pull, a constant game of tug and war of who was going to outdo the other one. You got the prestigious job but he was getting married. Young - like all the army rats. Dumb. Stupid. It wouldn’t last. But whatever. The hotel is nice, and you managed to escape your future sister-in-law’s bachelorette plans to get a drink at the bar by yourself. Never mind the fact she couldn’t legally drink and neither could your brother. Stupid. Very stupid.

But your parents made it known your input was unwanted and uncalled for so you kept your mouth shut. Maybe you could just be inebriated this whole weekend. God forbid someone tries to talk him out of one of the worst mistakes of his life.

You order a mojito because you’ve been sweltering in the humidity of the Boston summer, but then… you think maybe you won’t need to be drunk on liquor as you see a tall man with jet-black hair sit down on your right, leaving a few empty seats between the two of you. He looks authoritative; like people listen when he speaks; like he could command a room without so much as whispering. He’s too old for you, but fuck it, if your parents had nothing to say about your brother getting married the second he turned eighteen, they can’t say shit about who you end up with.

But still. You’re not staying in Massachusetts, and from the looks of him, you doubt he is either. He must be here on business, still dressed in black dress slacks and a suit jacket in the heat, never mind that it’s almost 10 pm. Although, who knows? Lots of suit types around, although not necessarily in hotel bars.

He orders something strong on the rocks, sipping slowly at the amber liquid. You eye his hand on the glass... and god. It dwarfs it, making it look tiny wrapped in his long fingers.

You bite your lip and turn away, sipping cautiously at your own drink. You weren’t thinking about meeting anyone here, anyway. You sweat off most of your makeup this morning driving to the hotel and your hair was a frizzy mess, soaking up all the moisture from the air it could get. You needed a shower. You just wanted a few drinks alone before turning in for the night. Right?

You’d never had a one-night stand yourself. You didn’t know how those worked, and you thought emotional entanglements before starting as an FBI agent, however brief they were… wouldn’t exactly be a good start to your career. You didn’t want to be missing him, waiting for calls that never came.

Jesus. You need to get a grip. You haven’t said a word to this man. You don’t even know his name.

Scanning him over again, you drink in his dark hair and eyes, thick eyebrows, sharp jawline, and broad shoulders. You’re not being exactly subtle in checking him out as you start to feel the effects of the alcohol loosening you up a little.

So you shouldn’t be as surprised as you are that he catches you.

Aaron noticed you when he walked into the bar, but he deduced that you were tired and wanted to be left alone. A woman alone in a hotel bar that clearly wasn’t here on work, clad in a sundress… you were here to deal with something. Fight with a lover, family member, or friend - someone you were on vacation with. You didn’t want company. And neither did he, really. But now that your eyes met, he feels like you look so familiar, and yet he can’t quite figure out why. You give a small, shy smile and you slide down the few bar stools and tell him your name.

“I’m Aaron,” he responds, using his first instead of his last name to introduce himself. A rarity. You’ve got to be twenty years his junior. Nothing can come of this, he tells himself, trying to ignore the thin strap of your dress that was falling off your shoulder.

“You here for the wedding?” you ask, hopeful that maybe he was some long-distance relative of your brother’s fiancée, that you would somehow be able to run into him again. Celebrate the inevitable divorce.

“Wedding? No,” he answers, eyebrows raising a little in surprise.

Damn it. Couldn’t be so lucky.

“Who’s getting married?” he asks.

“My brother,” you answer.

“Shouldn’t you know who’s in the wedding party, then?” he asks, giving you a small smile, just wide enough to see the hints of dimples on his cheeks.

God. You were half in love with him already.

“I don’t know her side,” you answer, smiling back.

“They haven’t been together long?”

“Nope. Guess.”

“How long? I don’t know. Six months.”

“You think that’s short? Try four,” you say. “He’s going into the army. Straight out of high school. And no, she’s not pregnant.”

“You don’t sound like you approve,” he observes.

“Would you?”

“I don’t know. Stranger things have worked out.”

“I’ve never seen high school sweethearts stay together. And if they do… they’re usually not happy.”

“You’re barely out of high school yourself.”

“I’m 25!”

“Proving my point,” he says, smiling again. “I married my high school sweetheart.”

“I don’t see a wedding ring on your finger,” you point out.

“No. You don’t,” he sighs, taking a swig of his whiskey.

“I’m sorry,” you immediately apologize, hating yourself for your lack of filter. “I shouldn’t have—“

“It’s okay,” he cuts off your apology. “I invited the observation. We… we wanted different things.”

“Isn’t that the way shit always ends?”

Aaron nods, swallowing down the rest of his drink. “What about you? Are you against all marriages or just the shotgun ones?”

“Mostly just those, but I don’t know. I really don’t see the benefit at all,” you shrug.

“Right. So jaded in your old age,” he quips.

You giggle, shaking your head. “I’ll buy the next round?” you offer tentatively.

“I believe it’s the other way around,” he says, flagging down the bartender before you could and adding your next drink to his tab.

You try and fail to ignore the butterflies in the pit of your stomach. “There’s always tax breaks.”

“What?” you ask, caught off guard by his out-of-context statement.

“Filing as married. Tax breaks,” Aaron clarifies.

“Yeah. Health insurance, too. Or, you know, not having to live in the barracks.”

“The joys of marriage.”

You roll your eyes. “How romantic. Spare me. Please.”

“No one’s tying you down, hmm?”

“No,” you say, but you give him a lilting smile, one you hope dares him to try.

“Fair enough.”

“What brings you out here, then, if it’s not to be my plus one to this sham of a wedding?”

“Work,” he replies. “Giving a conference at a college nearby.”

“You don’t have time to come in between?”

You don’t know why you’re inviting him. You don’t want him to meet your family, not like this, anyway. You don’t want to lead him on. It’s the alcohol, maybe, loosening your lips.

“I think your parents would kill me,” Aaron says firmly.

“Right. If they don’t care what my brother does, they shouldn’t care what I do. Bringing you to the wedding would be marginally less stupid than actually getting married.”

He sighs your name, shaking his head. “I can’t in good conscience agree to that.”

“Why not?”

“I’ll never see you again after this.”

“So?” you shrug.

“I don’t intend on starting something I can’t finish,” he says lowly, and you wonder… is that flirting? Is that what he’s doing?

“Fair enough,” you concede. “A little bit too much pressure for something that’s destined to go nowhere.”

“You’re not from here, either?”

“I’m moving for my job,” you tell him.

“Which is?”

You laugh and shake your head. “If I told you I’d have to kill you.”

“Naturally,” he says, smiling against the glass as he lifts it to his mouth. “CIA?”

“You’re serious,” you say, incredulous. “You actually believe I’m joining the CIA?”

“You’ve got a talent for holding a conversation without saying anything,” he points out.

“Takes one to know one,” you shoot back, realizing all you really learned about him was his first name and that he was married and now divorced.

He shrugs. “Good quality to have if for whatever reason you need to go undercover. Also, good quality to have when you’re in possession of vital, secret information. Something to think about.”

“You want to refer me?”

“Smooth,” he grins. “Nice deflection.”

“I’m most certainly not joining the CIA, Aaron, but if that’s what you’d like to follow you around in your fantasies of me, be my guest,” you smile back.

“Fantasies?”

“Since nothing can come of this. All we’re left with, right?”

“It’s a conversation in a bar. Those end two ways. Three, actually.”

“Which are?”

“The people involved in the conversation get a room. Or they leave and never speak again. Or… provided one is a CIA agent and on a covert operation, she may in fact kill the man involved.”

Rolling your eyes, you can’t help but laugh anyway. Maybe it’s the alcohol loosening him up a bit, you don’t know, but you get the feeling he’s not often like this.

“I’m beginning to think you’re paranoid, now. What do they want you for?”

“Some light treason, probably,” he snarks.

You’re not drunk enough that the beginning of his earlier remark escapes you, though. “I take it a room isn’t in the cards for us?”

Looking at you apologetically, he whispers your name before shaking his head. “It’s not fair to either of us. Some people can live their lives like that… but I can’t. If that’s what you’re looking for, I’m sorry. I’m not the man you need tonight.”

Oh, but he is.

You hang your head, blushing. “I’m not… I don’t usually do this, either. I just figured…”

“It’s not because I don’t find you attractive,” he reassures you. “I just…can’t lead you on when I know it can’t last.”

“I suppose that’s fair,” you say, nodding. “There is a fourth way this can end, though.”

“Yeah? I’m all ears.”

“I see you tomorrow,” you grin, downing the rest of your drink. “You’ll still be around.”

And with that, you stand up, kiss his cheek, and you walk out of that bar. And you don’t look back to see his reaction no matter how much you want to.

You know he’s bad news. You know he won’t show up. You know he’s absolutely right, and an attractive man like that must have been through a series of one-night stands after his wife left or he left her and realized they just left him hollow. Didn’t fill the void she left.

He didn’t want you to add to that chapter in his life. And you can’t blame him. You’d be a toxic end to that book if there ever was one.

————-

So when you see Aaron through the windows, who lost the suit jacket, finally, hanging outside of the wedding reception, you think you’re going insane. Hallucinating. Having an out-of-body experience or something.

He was too old to be playing games. Why was he here, hanging on the outskirts like this? It’s not like he was trying to get your attention. You were having a conversation with your cousin who was praying she caught the bouquet, and when you eyed him, you told her that you need some air.

“Look what the cat dragged in,” you say, stepping out of the stuffy reception hall into the cooler night air. “Or out. Not enough balls to actually crash it?”

“I… well. I suppose I’ve been caught,” he says sheepishly, and if the lighting out here wasn’t so bad you’d swear you saw him blushing. “You look beautiful.”

Maybe you do look good, or at least better than the bar last night. You settled on a maroon one-shouldered dress that clung to your curves, paired it with black-heeled sandals and you managed to get your hands on waterproof mascara and eyeliner to beat the humidity.

“Why are you here?”

“It was the fourth option.”

“We’ve reached an impasse, though.”

“We’re down to three options, again,” Aaron nods. “I realized it was prolonging the inevitable.”

“It’s two, Aaron. Room or no room,” you say, a little tense. “There’s no inevitable. There’s just now. You showed up. You showed up now.”

He scoffs, stepping a little closer to you. “You don’t even believe that. All you think about is the future. You think your brother and his wife are destined to divorce so they shouldn’t get married. Why should we start something when we know it’s going to end? That’s what this whole week was predicated on for you. Inevitability. And trying to avoid it and get others to avoid it as well. It’s your whole anti-marriage stance. Why should anyone start what they can’t finish? Right? Why bother with any of it? Why come on to me at all? One day someone is going to leave, by choice or by circumstance.”

“You showed up,” you say again. “Don’t psychoanalyze me, Aaron. You don’t know shit about me. You said so yourself last night.”

“No. I don’t know your last name or your favorite color or what your major in college was. But I know that you’re afraid.”

“Everyone’s afraid,” you shoot back. “You showed up. Why?”

“I… I wanted to see you again. It’s different now. It’s not a conversation in a bar anymore. It’s two people outside of a wedding.”

“Why see me again? Wasn’t the point of not starting to avoid hurting? Isn’t that what we’re all afraid of? Pain? We spend our whole lives trying to outrun it. You don’t like one night stands because they hurt. Because they leave you empty. Because they make you wonder and worry about the what-ifs and the consequences.”

Aaron shakes his head. “It’s not just about that. I thought about this. About us. If we only have the night… I want to do it right. I want to spend it with you.”

“Not in me?” you quip, smirking.

He says your name in a warning tone. “Don’t.”

“Fine,” you laugh. “I take it you’ll actually crash now?”

“Yes,” he nods, looking at you intensely. “I hope you can dance.”

“Dancing’s a dangerous game,” you tease. “Could quickly lead to other things.”

“Not in a room full of your family.”

“You’re a little tapped, huh?” you ask, grinning.

“Tapped?”

“Fucked in the head.”

He shrugs. “We have one night. I want it. Take it or leave it.”

“I’ll take it, Aaron,” you say, and lead him back through the glass doors of the hall. “You’ll quickly find I’m just as fucked.”

“I think I already knew that,” he chuckles lowly, taking your hand in his.

What kind of man agrees to this? You’ve had boyfriends you’ve had to fight with to meet your family in the first place, and here’s this man, all set to attend a full-blown wedding with your entire extended family. Maybe you didn’t care if it was long-distance at the end of tonight. He seems like a keeper.

Your brother eyes you from where he stands at the altar. You smile and shake your head, ushering Aaron into the back row with you. You didn’t exactly feel like you needed front-row seats for this.

His future wife, Crystal, she’s pretty, with olive skin, kind brown eyes, and curly black hair, but you’re still just taken aback by how young they are, how your brother will be selling his body and soul for the military in weeks and she’s coming along for the ride. Young love. You remember your first, the neighbor next door, a little older than you. Like everyone with their first love, you swore you’d marry him one day.

But you didn’t.

And you were better off.

Vows spoken. Rings traded. You almost tear up a little, given your recent fight with your mother about this, her saying she was glad at least one of her kids was getting married, that maybe she did have the hope of grandchildren someday. And it’s not fair, not really, to put that kind of pressure on you. You were career-oriented. You were never going to be the kind of woman who easily submit, who did what a man said, who took his last name and gave up the one you used for decades. You were never going to be a woman like Crystal, even when you were younger, and would do just about anything for male validation. Something in your brain was wired to be contradictory when someone tried to box you in.

How can you speak meaningful vows with someone you barely knew? You hear your brother spout something about love and eternal happiness, in sickness and in health, and it’s so easy to promise that when all you’ve seen is their good days.

You don’t have a traumatic background. You just know people leave. And you have always tried to never let yourself be in a vulnerable position. Even here, Aaron is the one who’s got less of a leg to stand on. Sure, his being here was going to lead to some awkward conversations with your relatives, but they were your relatives. He was the one out of place.

Your aunt turns around after the ceremony ends to say something to you, but she stops short upon catching Aaron’s eyes. So it begins.

“Who’s this?” she asks.

“My hooker for the night,” you tell her, deadpan, staring at your nails like you’re uninterested, and it’s so hard not to break out into a smile when you see Aaron blushing in your peripheral, sputtering and trying to come up with an excuse as to why he is sitting next to you other than being a sex worker.

You take it he’s never been with a woman like you before.

And at first, you disliked the odds stacked against you, but now you’re realizing how much fun you can have with this. There’s no need to hide your true colors because you’re both leaving at the end of the night anyway. You can be as unhinged as you want. No reason to play it up, make it out like you’re someone you’re not just so he might ask you out again… because this is it. Lowkey. No pressure.

“Don’t worry, honey, she’s always been like that,” your aunt reassures him, patting his shoulder gently. “Although if you really are a hooker, I’ll take your business card. You’re good-looking and you’ll be a plus one? A dream.”

“I assure you, I’m not a hooker, ma’am,” Aaron denies quickly, stoically.

“That’s what they all say,” you quip back. “Remember how much I’m paying you.”

If looks could kill, you’d be bleeding from a thousand stab wounds right now. But you were having fun, more fun than you’d had with a man in a long time.

“You’re not cute,” he whispers in your ear when your aunt turns back around.

“You wouldn’t be sitting here right now if you thought that,” you retort, starting to feel a little hot under your dress at his lips so close to your skin. “Besides, you should be gloating right now. You’re so attractive that my aunt thinks women would pay you to have sex with them.”

“Right. I’m sorry. I should be jumping for joy at that,” he says sarcastically.

“Exactly,” you nod, smirking at him, taking his snark seriously. “Relax. One night, right? Even if you make a complete ass out of yourself, this is it.”

“Yeah.”

“When’s the last time you had a good time, Aaron?” you ask suddenly. “No strings attached, good time? Because fine. I don’t know your last name or your major in college or your favorite color either. But if I’m afraid, you’re miserable. You need to let loose. You came here for a reason. I can at least give you that.”

“I just don’t want—“

“Them to think you’re a hooker? Please. First of all, I’m the most frugal bitch alive. They know I didn’t actually pay you to be here or to dick me down later. No one will believe that. And again, Aaron, what the fuck do you care what they believe? They’re never going to see you again. And we’re at a sham of a wedding to top it all off. So… live a little. Have a good time. Tell me some stupid jokes. Dance with me. Have a couple of drinks. And let it go. Whatever baggage you have does not exist in this room if whatever fears I have aren’t supposed to either.”

“You make a good case,” he mutters.

“I know I do,” you grin, pressing your lips to kiss right behind the ear you were whispering in, marveling at how quickly his skin flushes red at your touch.

Both of you stop talking for a moment as the first dance starts, and the couples slowly start to head to the dance floor. “Lover” by Taylor Swift, Crystal’s choice, you guess; and you can’t help but think it’s a funny one. A love song, sure, but almost a cop-out of marriage if there ever was one. “I take this magnetic force of a man to be my lover”… but not my husband. Backing away from the thought of forever commitment. I want all your summers but not your last name or your ring on my finger. Nothing to symbolize it, tie me to it.

“Can I have this dance?” Aaron asks you, and you wonder if he’s secretly a masochist. Maybe he likes to be teased and kept on edge.

You nod, though, and let him lead you out into the dance floor to join the other couples.

“Keeping enough room for Jesus?” you tease, looking down at the space between your bodies.

Scoffing, he pulls you closer by the waist, so there are millimeters of space between your bodies now, and you feel your face heat up as his hands stay on the small of your back. “Happy?”

“Happier,” you concede. “How do you know how to dance?”

“I was married before,” he reminds you. “It doesn’t seem like you know how, though.”

“Hmm?” you question, glaring at him.

“Your hands go on my shoulders. Or around my neck.”

“I knew that,” you mutter, placing your hands on his shoulders tentatively, catching his dark brown eyes with yours, shuddering at the intensity he was looking at you with. Taylor Swift continues to croon her undying love and you stare at this man, at this moment in your lifetime, fading away as you’re holding him close, swaying slowly to the music.

Love at first sight doesn’t exist. You rationalized that all away ages ago. Lust, sure. Lust is common, ordinary, every day.

But you know what lust looks like. It’s predatory looks from men across a dusky bar room or it’s wide-eyes, pupils-dilated, unbridled passion, kiss-bruised lips. But you weren’t getting any of that from the way he was looking at you.

And you know you’re going to see those eyes in your dreams, eyes you can glean pain from, eyes trying to reach the depths of your soul to see where you buried your hurt to rest too. Understand you, not the things you tell people when you make small talk like your college major or your favorite color but the things you tell people when they want to get to know you like your stance on God or presidential candidates or… marriage.

You don’t know where the hesitancy came from, all of a sudden, but it’s the intensity of his eyes and the heat radiating from his body and the lights are lower and the song is ending and you’re inching your face toward his and you’re not sure who touched their lips to whose first but his mouth is on yours now, and his eyes finally close. You watch them flutter close, long eyelashes brushing against yours as he lets himself envelop you without a word. You’ve never been kissed like this, so feather-light and without a hint of urgency, like he’s taking his time, like he’ll take the entire wedding reception to explore every square centimeter of your mouth with his own. Being you, though, you don’t have the patience for that, and you bring your hands from his shoulders to clasp around the back of his neck and you get the intensity you crave, parting his lips with your tongue, closing your eyes too, feeling his soft black hair brushing against the sides of your wrists and your bodies are pressed so close and you could get lost here, couldn’t you? - but then you feel someone tap your shoulder, and you break away from him with a squeal.

“Who is this that you’re sucking face with? I’ve never seen him before,” your mother says as you turn around.

“Ask Aunt Linda,” you laugh, trying to regain your composure. “I was enjoying myself.”

“Clearly,” she says, giving you a tight-lipped smile. “Is this some kind of protest?”

“No, his name is Aaron. Aaron, this is my mother,” you say.

“Pleasure to meet you, ma’am,” he says, reaching out his hand for her to shake, smiling with his dimples in a way you’re sure made his ex-in-laws fall in love with him.

She reciprocates, but she shakes her head at the same time. “I’d prefer to have met you before you were wearing my daughter’s lipstick.”

“We can’t always get what we want,” you grin at your mother. “I think it suits him, anyway.”

“Of course you do,” she says. “Why didn’t you mention you were bringing a date?”

You shrug. “Just kind of happened. Like. You know. The wedding.”

“Oh. So this is a protest. I apologize, Aaron, for you being a part of her juvenile scheme.”

“It’s really not a bother. She’s a pleasure to be around,” he grins.

Your mother laughs. “You two really did just meet, huh? You have no idea.”

“Not very nice, Mom. Don’t scare him away. Maybe I can make this a joint wedding.”

“Hell would freeze over before you get married, darling,” she says, squeezing your shoulder. “Well. Have a good time. But please keep your hands off each other. We’ve got both sets of your grandparents here and we don’t need to be sending anyone into cardiac arrest.”

“Right, Mom,” you say, rolling your eyes as she walks away.

“I see where you get all of it from,” Aaron chuckles softly.

“I see you’re a major kiss-ass even if you’re never going to see my mom again,” you retort, stepping closer to him again.

“No harm in being polite.”

“That wasn’t just polite. That was being a kiss-ass. And you still have lipstick all over your mouth.”

Then you feel his mouth on you again, soft, thorough, warm. “Did I get it?” he asks, still smiling at you.

“You’re ridiculous,” you giggle, then use the advantage you have to hold his face there and pepper kisses across his face, leaving red marks in the shape of you across his skin before he catches your bottom lip between his teeth, kissing your mouth again, letting you take the lead again, squeezing his eyes shut and gripping onto your shoulders like your sand slipping through his fingers.

Because you are.

“I’m going to need to clean this off before I have to meet your father,” Aaron says, laughing. “I’ll be right back.”

Aaron doesn’t exactly know what he’s doing, and he feels like he can’t recognize the man looking at him in the mirror, red lipstick smeared across his face, a seemingly permanent blush on his cheeks blending in with it. The cold water helps cool him down some, but then he thinks about you again, all smirks and quick remarks and the way you read him like a book… and he’s on fire again.

There’s no point in asking you where you’re moving. Even if it’s somewhere feasible to travel, his life and work schedule isn’t something he’d want to burden another woman with.

One night. No expectations except for a good time. That he could do, even if it was for a borderline child wedding not unlike the one he had over a decade ago.

Walking back out he sees you, eyes intense and smile lines formed at their corners as you talked to your brother, glass of champagne in your hand. “Oh, this is Aaron,” you tell him, your hand on Aaron’s back as he reaches you.

“Congratulations,” Aaron says, nodding at him.

“Thanks, man. Where the hell did you come from, though?”

“That’s my secret,” you say, grinning. “You don’t get to know.”

“Is this one going to last?”

“Doubt it,” you shrug. “Is yours?”

“Stop it,” he says, glaring at you. “I know you think I’m making a mistake. It’s already done. I don’t want to hear it anymore, okay?”

“Okay,” you say.

“At least I can keep a relationship longer than four months.”

“It hasn’t really been that much longer,” you counter.

“Well, I proposed instead of ending it.”

“Okay,” you sigh, leaning in for a side hug. “I don’t want to argue either. Go be with Crystal.”

Your brother nods, taking the hint the conversation was over, and Aaron takes the opportunity to sit down with you at one of the tables. “Is this common for you?”

“What? Taking men I don’t know to weddings? Far as I know you’re only one lucky enough,” you say tersely.

“I meant… relationships.”

“Yeah. Maybe. I try men on like I try on clothes. I’m a slut. Is that what you’re trying to get at?”

“No, not at all.”

You shake your head, sipping at the champagne and making a face at it, laughing at the acrid taste and handing it to him. “You can have that.”

“I’m sorry if I offended you,” Aaron says calmly, taking the glass from you, and drinking from it slowly. “There’s nothing wrong with this. It’s good champagne.”

“It tastes like ass,” you laugh, then frown. “You didn’t offend me. Yeah. I’ve had issues with relationships. No secret there. A normal, sane girl wouldn’t have asked you to come here, no offense.”

“A normal, sane man wouldn’t have said yes,” he replies, smiling, squeezing your hand that rested on the table. “Relationship issues are normal. No one in this room or in this city or on this planet has it figured out.”

“Did anyone try to stop you from getting married?” you ask him.

“Her mother wasn’t happy,” he recalls. “My parents figured I would figure it out. We were together through most of high school.”

“But you don’t know at that age.”

“No,” he agrees. “You don’t. Either they’ll be lucky and grow together or they’ll be unlucky and grow apart. But you don’t know unless you try.”

“The odds are—"

“They know that. I knew that. I still wanted to try anyway.”

“Do you regret it?”

“Sometimes,” Aaron admits. “Sometimes I do. I gave her a lot of years, and some of them weren’t good. A lot of them weren’t good, actually, a lot of strain and arguing and worrying about who she was seeing while I was away. But… I don’t know. You live and you learn.”

“Sometimes you do know,” you say sadly.

“Sometimes you try anyway,” he responds, bringing your hand to his lips.

You blink back tears and nod. One night. You can cry later.

Thankfully, the song changes to Cotton Eyed Joe; something ridiculous and impossible to stay down in the dumps for. Aaron glares at you but concedes when you give him a pleading look and you’re able to get him out on the floor to teach him this dance. He looks insane, what you can only imagine as a normally uptight, repressed man learning choreography from you for a novelty song.

Breathless and laughing he kisses you. Again. Again. Again. You don’t care about your mother’s warning and you’re glad he doesn’t either. You get the feeling he’s not one to embrace PDA like this either, but it’s one night for his mouth to be on yours, and the impression he leaves on your parents isn’t going to matter in a couple of hours anyway.

You think you’ll get whiplash from this setlist, the way it switches from upbeat to hopelessly sentimental, but Aaron rolls with the switches, pulling you back to him, swaying you gently to ‘Fade into You’. Resting your head on his shoulder and wrapping your arms around him, you breathe him in. The woodsy scent of his cologne. The slight musk of his sweat. You feel his mouth press a long kiss against the top of your head.

And that’s how it ends, bringing you into a long hug at the trunk of your car the next morning, everything you own behind you. Both of you leaving this city. Heading home. You don’t talk about it. You don’t mention to him that you’d like to see him again. You don’t say anything.

“I’m sorry it had to end this way,” he says quietly, looking up at the sky, the clouds moving quickly overhead, threatening rain.

“Aaron, don’t,” you mutter. “We knew.”

“I know.”

Who do you get mad at for this? When it’s no one’s fault? God? Fate? The universe?

——------

Who do you thank for this? God? Fate? The Universe?

You walk into your new workplace, the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit, Gideon, who you interviewed with last week leads you through the building, giving you your badge, gun, and security clearance. It must be counterfeit. No one is this lucky.

Aaron realized why you looked so familiar the second your name was mentioned. He’d seen your file, read it through thoroughly, and noticed your photograph paper-clipped to it, but he was on a plane for a case and then just as quickly he was on a plane to Boston for the conference. Gideon was the only one present for the interview. Gideon was the one to hire you. Gideon was the one to walk you through the building to his desk to introduce himself to you.

You don’t even blink. “Guess it’s a good thing you were polite to my mother, sir,” you say, holding out your hand for him to shake.

Never mind the fact he already kissed you and the entire length of his body was pressed against yours.

“You two know each other?” Gideon asks, looking between the two of you.

“You could say that,” Aaron answers, but he’s only looking at you. There must be a glitch. Maybe Boston was a dream. No. You remember it, too.

“Not the CIA. Close enough, I suppose,” you grin.

“Sure,” he says softly... because he doesn’t know what to say. When he pulled your resume and your background check again he knew to expect you to walk through these doors at 9 am. A couple of hours still wasn’t enough time to prepare. You… were blindsided though.

“What aren’t you telling me, Hotch?” Gideon asks. “Is this going to be a problem?”

“No, not at all,” he says, but he’s still only looking at you. “Can I talk with you? In my office?”

You nod, following him, closing the door behind you, and leaning against it. “Don’t you think you should introduce me to the rest of the team?”

“Why didn’t you mention this?” he asks, standing in front of his desk.

“Why didn’t you? You had a million times to mention you worked for the FBI.”

“When I said CIA…”

“I thought you were being funny. I thought you were a traveling lecturer for like, science or something. I don’t know. The FBI, Aaron?”

“I could say the same for you. Jesus,” he whispers, stepping a little closer to you.

“It’s kind of funny we were out a whole night and it never came up,” you say, grinning.

“Jesus,” he mutters again, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“So what happens now?”

“I don’t know. We work, like adults, and we move on.”

“I don’t know, Aaron. I think someone doesn’t want us to move on,” you shrug. “I can’t sit in here all day. You have to introduce me to the rest of the team before they think I am fucking you.”

He glares at you. “These comments won’t be permitted with the rest of the team present.”

“Jesus. I know when to shut my mouth, Aaron. In private, they’re permissible though, right?”

“I truly don’t know how I’m going to work with you,” he says, trying not to laugh.

“Guess you must be glad you didn’t fuck me before,” you say. “Would’ve been really awkward.”

“Agent… drop it. I do have to introduce you to them. Let’s go.”

But your back is pressed against the door and you know it’s a risk to tease your fucking boss on your first day, but you can’t help yourself because he’s not just your boss, he’s Aaron. The man who held your heels and walked you back to your hotel room, who kissed you outside the door but wouldn’t let you take him inside with you, even though you felt how much he wanted you, too.

You don’t move.

“I need you to move from the door, Agent.”

“I’m ‘Agent’ now? How clinical. We’re still in private, Aaron.”

“If this is how you’re going to play it, I will have you fired.”

“Right,” you say. “Don’t think so.”

“Try me.”

“Is that a threat, Aaron?”

“You’re going to be the death of me,” he mutters. But he’s only looking at your mouth.

“Just kiss me,” you say. “I know you want to. Probably been thinking about it all morning since you realized—"

You’re cut off by his mouth against yours. “Are you wearing lipstick?” he asks against your lips.

“No,” you answer, pulling him closer, tongue against tongue, hips against hips.

“That’s all you’re getting, Agent,” he says. “I expect you to be nothing but professional. That means no teasing, no mention of Boston, no mention that we know each other even if they ask. Noncommittal answers only.”

“Aaron, 'noncommittal' is my middle name,” you grin. “It’s you I’m more worried about. I seem especially talented at weakening that seemingly strong resolve.”

“It’s Hotch in front of the team. Go,” he nods at the door.

——————

“You did a good job with her,” Aaron says to you on the plane. “Liz. The victim.”

You smile, thanking him. “Used to work in a children’s psych hospital when I was doing my undergrad. Lots of child trauma there. Learned how to get to the root of their stories.”

“You’ll be a good addition.”

“You didn’t think so before?”

“I thought you were going to make me lose my mind,” he admits, looking around to make sure no one else was listening. Thankfully, it was an overnight flight. Everyone was asleep, save you two.

“I still might.”

Aaron nods, grinning, dimples on full display. “That you may.”

“What’s going to happen between us?”

“Nothing should.”

“I didn’t ask you what should. I asked you what is.”

“What do you want?”

You laugh. “I mean, Aaron, I’m the last girl to believe in fate, but that was a pretty big coincidence to ignore. And you keep kissing me whenever we’re alone.”

“You keep getting me alone,” he mutters, taking your hand and threading your fingers through his.

“Yeah, it’s my fault you can’t keep your hands or your mouth off me.”

“Shh,” he scolds.

“It’s true,” you say. “Anyway. You know what I want. I want you.”

“I want you, too,” he admits. “But this is a precarious situation and I’m not risking my career just for sex.”

“Aaron. We aren’t going to get any bigger signs from the universe that we need to try this. I’m open to it. We can try this. For real.”

“You believe that? It was fate?”

You laugh. “I don’t know what to believe anymore. Crazy coincidence, if nothing else.”

Aaron looks around suspiciously, kissing your mouth gently when he confirms no one is watching.

Which is nothing how he kisses you later in your new apartment, searing hot against your skin as his fingers circle your clit softly, leaving you to whimper against his mouth. You’re jet-lagged and overly full from breakfast when you landed but you’re wide awake and needy when it comes to him now.

“Aaron,” you whine. “Need you. Now.”

“You have me, honey,” he teases, leaning forward to lay you down on the bed, using the angle to fuck his fingers into you relentlessly. “Better?”

“Fuck,” you say, nodding.

“So wet for me, honey,” he coos at you. “Such a good girl.”

You know you’re embarrassingly close from his ministrations with his hands, so quick to get there from being so worked up since Boston, having to go a whole week hiding this secret, sneaking off into side rooms just to press his mouth and body against yours.

You still don’t expect it to rip through you like that until you’re left shaking and moaning his name. You don’t expect his cock to fill you even better, up to the hilt. You don’t expect him to flip you over so you’re on top, able to watch him blush and whimper from your teasing, telling him he’s fucking up into you so good.

You definitely don’t expect him to suggest round two and go down on you.

Then again. You didn’t expect the man you took to your brother‘s wedding on happenstance to be your fucking boss. That you’re fucking now. Apparently.

“How long do you think we can hide this from a room full of profilers, Aaron?”

“Shut up,” he says, laughing, kissing you, hair all mussed up, making him look deliciously freshly fucked. “You’re good at holding on and holding out.”

“You’re not.”

“Only when it comes to you, honey,” he says, pulling you into him.

“They’ll figure it out because of something you did,” you wager.

“I shouldn’t take that bet,” he says. “But I will.”

And sure enough. When you nearly got shot, and of course Aaron ran to your side, checking you for wounds, kissing the top of your head when he realized you were safe and okay…

Morgan was watching. And it spread through the team like wildfire. Naturally.

“How long?”

“Since Boston,” you answer.

“Wait…” Gideon chimes in.

“Don’t think about it too hard,” Aaron says.

------

taglist: @mrs-ssa-hotch​

[rin-fukuroi]

𝐈 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐨𝐨 [𝐉𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐘𝐮𝐚𝐧]

Please do not translate or publish my works without my permission.

The originals of my works can be read here

Fandom: Honkai: Star Rail Pairings: Jing Yuan x Fem!reader Warnings: just fluff, events after the battle with the Phantylia

Note: English is not my native language, so I apologize if there are errors in the text qq 

Throughout the story, I wanted to hug this man tightly and wrap him in a soft blanket. He's so sad and so in need of the warmth that he deserves<3

You sigh heavily, sorting papers on your lover's desk. General Jing Yuan won't be able to return to work for a while yet, and it's the least you can do to lighten his burden after he fully recovers. Knowing him, you could say with confidence that he would have run away from any paperwork even faster than usual when he saw what a mess had formed at his workplace in his absence.

Your soul was restless. Although you visited him every day and Jing Yuan was always smiling and sticking to you the same way as always, you felt that he really needed a rest. Of course, you couldn't question Miss Bailu's skill, but what kind of loving girl would you be if you weren't worried about your irresponsible General?

— God, I should at least deal with what I can do, — you mumble to yourself, taking a thoughtful pose, looking at the endless stacks of papers. Another doomed sigh leaves your lungs before you grab the key from the table. — However… It can wait until tomorrow.

When you go outside, you are greeted by the night sky and lights illuminating the almost deserted Lofu.

— Oh, it obviously took longer than I planned… — you grab the belt of your bag slung over your shoulder and are about to proceed towards the house when someone's hand wraps around your wrist.

You shudder, turning sharply, ready to draw your, albeit small, but still a sword. Jing Yuan usually forbids you to carry weapons with you, preferring to send a couple of Cloud Knights to accompany you, but you never liked to attract too much attention to yourself and stand out from the crowd, so you rarely listened to his lectures about the dangers of weapons for inexperienced fighters, especially such clumsy ones like you. The main thing for you has always been a sense of security and comfort, which could well be provided by Jing Yuan himself or a small blade that will not harm you, but can injure the enemy if you are unlucky enough to be in a situation where you have to use it.

And it seems that this day has come.

You put your hand on the scabbard hidden under the blouse on your belt, turning abruptly to meet face to face with someone who had the audacity to touch a strange woman on the street at such a late hour. The General would be proud of your grace and speed. It seemed to you that now you can cut off the head from the shoulders of this brazen pervert, but by making too sharp a turn on your heels, you stumble over your own foot, almost losing your balance. But everything started so well.

You're desperately trying to stay on your feet, balancing on the heel of one foot, but a pair of strong arms instantly encircles your forearms, forcing you to squint in fright. That's all. Is this ridiculous mistake going to cost you your honor and dignity now? Jing Yuan definitely wouldn't be proud of that…

— Jing Yuan?! — your eyes open wide with genuine shock, your lips open wide, and there is not a single censorious thought in your thoughts when your gaze meets golden eyes depicting poorly feigned guilt, which is instantly replaced by curiosity and mischief inherent in the General.

— Oh, where were you reaching for, m? — one of the General's palms slides down your waist until it is on the belt, catching the edge of the blouse and lifting up the thin fabric. — Tsk-tsk, I think I already told you that I don't want my future wife to carry a sword with her.

— And I think I said that I don't want to marry an idiot who can't just stay in the infirmary until his wounds heal! What are you doing here? — you nervously pull his palm, defiantly pouting and crossing your arms over your chest.

— Miss Bailu exaggerates my incapacity too much. I'm healthy enough to go out for a little airing.

— Rlly? And I think you just wanted to see me, even though we saw each other this morning and would have seen each other again in just a few hours if you hadn't run away like a naughty child.

— Ah, you see right through me, darling, — the General grabs his chest resentfully before laughing softly, placing his palms on either side of your thighs again. — I can't help myself, I needed to hug my future wife now and not a second later.

You sigh in frustration, shaking your head in displeasure, but eventually you give up, wrapping your palms around his neck. No matter how many stupid things he does, no matter how childish, you can never resist his incredible charm. The velvety voice, the soft look, the warmth emanating from Jing Yuan's body — these are all things without which you cannot imagine any of the days of your life. You would be blatantly lying if you said that you didn't miss him even when you parted for some miserable half a day. But your concern and care for the irresponsible General outweighed your longing for him, so you resigned yourself to the fact that you would have to part for some time, which you purposely filled with something related to him, so as not to feel lonely until the next meeting.

Your facial expression softens, your gaze fills with tenderness, and the corners of your lips lift in a warm smile. You tiptoe up, pressing your lips to Jing Yuan's cheek, catching him off guard with a short kiss. You catch a glimpse of his eyebrows lifting, and the once playful expression turns to surprise before you bury your face in his neck, pressing your body against his. The General is so big and strong, and whenever you have the opportunity to just hug him, you feel really safe, wrapped in care, love and his warmth.

You can feel Jing Yuan's chest vibrating with loud laughter as he wraps his big hands around your back more tightly, squeezing you even tighter in his embrace.

— Did someone miss me too?

— I'm still mad at you and I'll tie you to the bed as soon as you get back to the infirmary, — you grumble in displeasure at his fluffy hair tickling your face. — But I missed you, Jing Yuan…

[acertifiedmoron]

not to gotpost but my god they hated catelyn. like it was quite obvious they were not comfortable adapting a mother character who was emotionally abusive to one of the children in the household, and they either didn't have the time or didn't care enough to talk about the systemic prejudice bastards suffer in westeros and how that intersects with the disenfranchised status of noblewomen and the fundamental inequality of marriage, which obviously doesn't excuse catelyn's behaviour towards jon but gives you context to understand why she is like that. instead they framed it as an exclusively interpersonal conflict wherein catelyn was sort of made to look like the only one in the blasted continent who took issue with bastards and then this was turned into half of her personality which is how we got that incredible monologue about everything bad that has ever happened to the starks is because she 'couldn't love a motherless child'. now the really insidious thing about this is i'm certain the writers thought they were doing her character a favour, making her more likeable by having her expound on her flaws, because to them nothing was more discomfiting than a woman who would go to her grave completely unrepentant about being an inadequate mother, and i think this is also why they made her out to be so passive, constantly wanting to leave robb so she can return home to her youngest, because isn't that what a good, devoted mother would do? having littlefinger trick her into releasing jaime instead of it being a conscious and risky gamble because god forbid she exhibited any agency, even the agency to make mistakes in a tragedy. they turned her into a poor helpless woman who exists largely in the background for some audience sympathy, which is arguably the genre expectation her character is intentionally set up to fly in the face of in the books. because the northern war effort in books 1-3 was never robb's story, it was catelyn's. and they didn't get it. they didn't get it.

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

OMGGG HEAR ME OUT!!!!

What if you’re dating suguru anddd a random woman (let’s say his ex/old hookup/fling) just comes up and kisses him (on the cheek to be a lil tame) OR ON THE LIPS 😨😨😨

HOW WOULD HE REACT ❗️❗️

Would he shrivel up into smithereens out of repulsion and disgust?? Would he push her away by yanking her hair? Would he death stare her and call her names like the whore she is seeing him with someone yet doing something so shameless and heinous 🙄

Anddd how would he comfort his devastated lover and console them after this absolute traumatic unexpected experience??

😭😭😭 oh god. WELL….

i don’t think suguru is the type to ever resort to violence (as least not when you’re around LMAO), especially not towards a woman <333 need to mention that because i just think it crosses a big line for him. so he definitely wouldn’t pull her hair or anything lol, if she latches onto his arm and doesn’t let go after he tells her to then he kinda just…. pulls her away. he’s a strong man, no need to use force :3c

make no mistake though!! he’s pissed!!!! he’s disgusted!!!!!!!! god forbid she kisses him on the lips LMAOOO he’s rinsing his mouth with soap the second you get home. he hates the fact that it’s happening but more than anything he hates that it’s happening in front of you. so he’s going to be very, very stern. doesn’t raise his voice or call her names, he’s more mature than that, but he’s sooooo scary because it’s so obvious that he’s angry. he probably tells you to go wait in the car while he gives her a talking to, or better yet — he wraps it up quickly and pull you along with him. then he spends the rest of the day reassuring you, soothing any insecurities the incident might’ve caused, and etc. suguru’s priority in this situation is you, not himself or his ex.

…… i do wanna add that if we’re talking about cult leader!geto…… he kills her. lol. i’m sorry but he really would. tells you to go wait in the car with this ^_^ face but it instantly falls when you turn around. also demands kisses from you to get rid of her taste even if he’s literally inhaled bath salt to get rid of it