Hi everyone!!! After my long break, I've decided to come back, but, due to the problems I had with my other fandom, I've changed it (I'm sure most of you have noticed that change...)
Well, Donna requests are open!!! This fandom made me want to write again so... Here are some rules.
Requests rules :)
I know Resident Lover exists, but there is a lot of people writing abour RL Donna, and they do it better than me, so... I will only write about the underrated RE Donna. I liked her since I played the game years ago.
I write just Fem! Reader x Donna requests. (I mean, just this kind of relationship. I'm not comfortable putting the reader as her daughter o something like that)
I'm okay with smut, G!P (only if it's G!P Donna) and problably I'm going to be okay with most of your requests.
I'm not trying to be the best. I like to write just for fun
English is not my first language, so I'm sorry about the language mistakes
I think that's all, I hope you like my new writing, and thank you for being here despite the waiting.
Any doubts? Check those Q&A :)
-Kinks
-Do you want to do a G!P reader?
-About sizes
-About delays and second parts
Masterlist (Go check the part 2)
The first ones are from my other account. I'm gonna update this.
I'm just a maid (fluff)
What is love? (fluff, things implied)
I want to hate you (fluff, possessive Donna)
Like one of your flowers (fluff, mostly implied smut)
Fun at the castle (fluff, G! P Donna, smut)
What I am to you? (fluff, G!P Donna, implied smut, baby)
Spend the night (explicit smut, G!P Donna, first time)
Sleeping problems (fluff, health problems, protective Donna)
Movie night (smut, G!P Donna, fluff)
I'm not going to break you heart (angst, fluff, mental health issues)
I'm not hers (smut, fluff, angst)
My beautiful, stupid maid (G!P Donna, smut, dark themes)
Blizzard (Dark Donna)
Do you really love me? (G!P Donna, brief smut, slightly dark themes, angst)
A curious revenge (smut, teasing, fluff)
Emotions (hurt/comfort, fluff, angst, depression)
Afraid of being afraid (comfort, fluff)
Flowers (fluff, flowers stuff, hallucinations...)
Everything about you (G!P Donna, smut, fluff, insecurities...)
The friend you were used to be (dark, fluff, angst)
Three, then four (fluff, little girl)
A curious "aftearnoon" (G!P Donna, smut)
Your clumsy love (fluff, insecurities)
You belong to me (smut, possessive Donna)
I need you to love me (fluff, Donna's POV)
Your beautiful secret admirer (G!P Donna, smut, fluff)
Feeling yours (G!P Donna, strap-on, smut)
Family (G!P Donna, smut, angst, dark)
That night full of love (smut, Donna's POV)
Matchmaking (fluff)
Her not so perfect doll (G!P Donna, living doll, dark themes)
A perfect family (fluff)
An intimate act (breastfeeding kink, G!P Donna)
Outside the village (angst, fluff)
Perfect for me (fluff, insecurities)
Take me in the church (G!P Donna, smut)
Comforting you (angst, fluff)
Not a human, not a wolf (angst, lycan reader)
The waiting (G!P Donna, smut)
To deserve or not to deserve (Angst, fluff, depression)
The voices (G!P Donna, dark themes, Donna's POV)
Outside the house (2nd part of "Outside the village", fluff)
Avoiding you (smut)
What a morning (G!P Donna, smut)
You can leave the veil on (G!P Donna, smut)
Portrait (Fluff)
Heat wave (fluff)
A better future (Single mother reader! fluff)
To start a family (G!P Donna, smut)
Feeling yours again (G!P Donna, smut, strap-on)
Words of love (fluff)
Dogs and family (fluff)
How to make you hers (G!P Donna, smut, dark themes)
Losing my mind (smut, dark themes, reader's POV)
A long road to redemption (dark themes, Donna's POV)
Begging (G!P Donna, smut)
Wishes (G!P Donna, smut, fluff)
The weird, the lady, the doll (Angst, fluff)
How to seduce you (G!P Donna, smut)
May the chaos be with you (Fluff)
Innocence (G!P Donna, smut, Donna's POV)
A long road to motherhood (Fluff, angst, Donna's POV)
The love that wasn't in your books (G!P Donna, smut, fluff)
Hi Blusy, hope you are doing well and enjoyed your vacation to Italy. You deserve it!
If it’s okay, I’d like to request something based on that meme “they were both bottoms” where the reader and Donna are trying to have their first time together but they’re both shy about it and secretly waiting for the other to take charge… g!p Donna if you’re comfortable with it. TY, you are so awesome!
Yessss!!!! Sorry about the delay and thank you for your request!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!! Oh, and you're awesome, not me, without your requests, I would be no one :))))))
N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open!!! I'm waiting yours and, specially G!P requests, you know they're my favourites :D!!!I love you all!!!
Being alone in that mansion wasn't exactly something you enjoyed. The creaking of the wood and the almost artificial silence weighed on your shoulders, making you feel uncomfortable.
Fortunately for you, having worked for the Duke, the village's largest provider, gave you unique opportunities; opportunities to break the boredom and relax that somewhat sinister atmosphere.
“I'm on the highway to hell!” you sang, bobbing your head, making your hair dance as you bounced on the wood. “Yeah!”
Your enthusiasm ended when you turned around, finding yourself staring at the hall, where a silent black figure had appeared next to her doll. “Oh, um...” you said with an embarrassed smile, turning to turn off the player and leaving the broom in a corner. “Donna...”
The lady in black calmly placed the Angie doll on the floor while you tried to fix your hair, which had been messed up by the frantic dancing.
“You're back early. How was the meeting?” you asked timidly.
She looked at you before removing the black veil from her face, something that always made you shiver. Once her beauty was revealed, the woman threw herself at you, enveloping you in a deep and unexpected hug.
“Ugh, Donna,” you said amused, returning your girlfriend's hug, letting the warmth of her body penetrate yours. “My love... are you okay?”
“Yes,” she whispered, pulling away and cupping your face in her hands, her eye fixed on yours. “I'm okay because you're here, because you haven't left.”
“Oh,” you murmured, rolling your eyes, understanding the ventriloquist's reaction. “Honey, we've talked about this. I'm not going anywhere.”
“You know I'm afraid of losing you, tesoro... I suffer when I have to leave,” Donna said, brushing a strand of hair from your face, sighing sadly.
“Don't suffer anymore, I'm here,” you whispered in her ear, placing a soft kiss on her cheek, clinging to the back of her neck and basking in her affection.
A deeper kiss filled the old mansion with a discreet silence, broken only by the tireless contact of her lips against yours.
“Ew...” a squeaky voice protested. Of course, the Angie doll. “Hey, move away, you're making me nauseous!”
“Angie,” you said mockingly, without taking your eyes off your girlfriend. “You’re here.”
“Yes, I'm here, you clingy fools. I demand you to stop,” the puppet said, sounding amused but dangerous.
“Are you demanding?” you joked, moving away from Donna, who seemed mesmerized by your gaze, by your soft caresses. “You're jealous, aren’t you?”
“Jealous?! Me?!” Angie protested, pointing at herself. “Jealous of what?”
“I don't know,” you murmured, hanging onto the lady again, your bodies swaying as a giggle escaped the brunette's lips. “Maybe because I have your Donna so close...” you crooned, making the doll cross her arms.
“Bah,” the puppet snorted, shaking her head and walking past you, grumbling. “Jealous, the fabulous Angie jealous… why did that silly Donna have to fall for that stupid…?”
“You shouldn’t make her mad,” Donna whispered, kissing you slowly before pulling away, shaking her head.
You shrugged in amusement, escorting the lady into the living room.
“Well, but you’ll protect me from that evil doll, won’t you?” you joked, playfully tugging at her wrist.
“Certo,” Donna replied, allowing herself to be led. “I’ll always protect you, (Y/N).”
“You’re such a romantic woman,” you sighed, slowly caressing her deformed cheek, something the lady took a while to get used to, but secretly adored. “Is everything okay with your siblings?”
“Mm,” she murmured in response, placing her hand on yours, kissing the back of it softly. “I-I guess so...”
“Did something happen?” you asked, somewhat concerned by that answer.
The lady in black looked away, subtly shaking her head as she sat next to you on the couch.
“Honey, you don't have to tell me,” you whispered, rubbing her back as her face grew cold.
“Alcina and Karl have been making fun of me,” Donna murmured, ducking her head, her hands beginning to tremble, even as you took them affectionately.
“My love,” you sighed, moving a little closer, squeezing her hands. “Why?”
“They don't...” she began, her accent thick with emotion betraying her nervousness. “They don't believe you're with me, they... they think I've manipulated you and...”
“That's not true, Donna,” you said softly, soothing her wounded mind. “Don't pay attention to them.”
“If only...” she said, glancing at you. “(Y/N), come with me to the next meeting. That way, I'll show them you're mine, that you love me.”
“Um, um…” you murmured, pressing your lips together and slowly letting her hands go, uncomfortable with the proposal. “Donna, I respect your siblings and Mother Miranda, but… I don't know if I'm ready for that.”
“Perché?” Donna asked, a little startled. “Y-You're ashamed of me… is that it, vero?” she said in a cold, accusatory tone.
“What? No,” you said immediately, trying to erase the thought from her mind, something that was becoming increasingly difficult.
“Then… then…” the lady said, increasingly nervous, her chest rising and falling rapidly. “I'm not a liar!”
“Shhh,” you whispered, keeping her erratically flailing arms still. “Donna, calm down…”
“You don’t love me, do you?” she accused you, on the verge of tears, kicking the floor and hitting the sofa with her hands. “Porca puttana! Cazzo, cazzo, cazzo!”
“Damn…” you wailed, holding your girlfriend as best you could so she wouldn’t hurt herself; that was your priority. “Donna, stop… Hey, honey, look at me… Angie!” you shouted, asking for help from the doll, which appeared on the scene with a slow, threatening gait.
“Oh, so you want my help now? Screw you, you Donna-thief!” she mocked, leaving the room with a sinister laugh.
“Damn, ugly doll,” you hissed, trying unsuccessfully to calm your girlfriend. “Donna, listen to me… Is that what you want? Do you want me to accompany you to a meeting?”
“Mi hai spezzato il cuore!” the lady shrieked again, pulling away from your grasp, muttering meaningless phrases.
“My love, I don't understand...” you said desperately, controlling her arms, which were now going straight for her black hair. “Shhh, Donna... I'm here with you, do you see me? I'm here...” you whispered in a calm voice. “It's over, it's over, my love...”
Donna looked at you briefly, unable to stop trembling as you lovingly cupped her cheeks.
“(Y/N)... io...” she murmured, blinking erratically, calming her breathing. “Io...”
“It's over, it's all over, darling,” you murmured in a reassuring tone, watching the madness slowly fade from her shining eye. “You're right; I'll accompany you to the next meeting, okay?”
“Would you do that for me?” she asked in a sad tone, embarrassed by her inevitable breakdown.
“I'd do anything for you,” you whispered, briefly placing your lips on hers, smiling tenderly.
A warm hug ended the unpleasant situation, along with caresses on her back, whispers of unconditional love, something you didn't have to fake; something you truly felt, even though, deep down, poor Donna's madness didn't quite believe it.
“Um, you were lucky, silly,” Angie commented, leaning closer to check on her owner.
“Get lost,” you whispered over the brunette's shoulder, causing the doll to threaten you with her pose, but eventually retreat.
“S-Sorry,” Donna apologized, nervously playing with her hands. “I just got really nervous.”
“Don’t apologize,” you said, placing a hand on her cheek. “Anyway, just relax. I’ll make you some tea.”
“N-No,” she murmured, frowning. “I-I’m fine.”
“Mm, okay,” you sighed, still caressing her.
“By the way…Che stavi facedo?” she asked, her face completely different, completely removed from the madness. You looked at her and squinted, trying to understand the question. She noticed and laughed in amusement. “What were you doing?”
“Oh,” you nodded, smiling at your lack of understanding, something you were willing to put an end to eventually. “I was just cleaning up.”
“You didn't seem to be cleaning up,” she said with an amused smile. “That... That awful music that was playing...”
“Awful music?” you asked, feigning terrible offense. “It's AC/DC.”
“AC...?” Donna murmured, confused. “What?”
“AC/DC? One of the most important rock bands in history?” you said, amused by her lack of knowledge of modern life, something that didn't surprise you. In fact, you found it quite adorable.
“I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about,” she said softly, shaking her head. “I don't remember having that kind of... Music?”
“Please,” you sighed, rolling your eyes, your tone mocking. “I'm not going to talk about musical culture with you, Donna, but you're right; that music is mine. I stole a few records from the Duke.”
“You stole from the Duke?” Donna asked, surprised.
“Actually, I didn't steal from him; that fat man refused to pay what he owed me, so…” you explained, looking at your nails, earning an affectionate nudge from your girlfriend.
“I didn't think I'd fall for a thief,” the lady joked, a slight blush spreading across her cheeks.
“Well, I didn't think I'd fall for a Lord either,” you replied, reaching out to cup her chin and steal a quick kiss. “But don't worry; I'll keep that infernal music away from you.”
“Grazie,” she sighed, winking. “You were moving very strangely… what were you doing with the broom?”
“Donna, I was dancing,” you said, pretending to be offended again, crossing your arms. “Damn... I was hoping you'd ignored my awful performance...”
“P-Performance?” she asked curiously, which made a tender laugh escape your lips. “You say you were dancing? That doesn't seem like dancing to me, tesoro.”
“Oh...” you murmured, frowning. “So what is dancing to you, my love?” you asked, approaching her defiantly.
“Dancing is something elegant, not pretending to have a heart attack,” she explained, her tone serious, which made you laugh again at her almost impossible innocence.
“Mm,” you murmured with a dangerous look. “So... you know how to dance in that... elegant way?”
“Well, yes,” Donna said, nodding confidently.
“Oh... and you think... you could teach me?” you suggested, biting your lip. “I'd really like to dance with you.”
“Mm,” she said, standing up from the couch and extending her hand toward you. “Vieni”
“Okay,” you said, letting yourself go, your words slurring in a mischievous way. “But there's no music.”
“Your gaze is the only melody I need,” she whispered in your ear, making your whole body shudder, a shiver run down your spine, and your legs wobble. “Here...”
The lady in black grabbed your waist, pulling you a little closer as she placed your hand on her shoulder.
“Why are you holding my waist and I'm holding your shoulder?” you asked, amused, as she positioned you correctly, guiding you in a delicate and gentlemanly manner.
“Because it's easier to lead you this way, tesoro,” she explained, joining your hand with hers, in a perfect position for a calm, old-fashioned dance...
“So you're leading me, huh? Why is that?” you joked, smiling eagerly as Donna smiled, shaking her head.
“Because you don’t know how to dance,” the lady said; her voice serious, almost professional. “Place your feet correctly... Va bene...” she murmured, moving your body to her will; a body that was beginning to melt at the touch.
“What now?” you asked, almost sighing, leaning closer to her lips, enjoying the moment, one of the most romantic moments of your life.
“Now let me lead you, let yourself go,” Donna whispered, beginning to move slowly, giving you time to adapt to her steps, without losing eye contact.
“Yes, I know, you guide me,” you said, embarrassed by your clumsiness, but beginning to understand the steps, to follow them almost automatically. “Mm, I could get used to this...”
The lady's heels clicked on the wooden floor as her body masterfully guided yours. You really hadn't expected someone like her to know those dance steps so well.
“That's it...” the lady whispered, slowly turning you around, pulling you closer to her as the room spun around you.
Despite your clumsy steps, you felt a certain pleasure in the movements, in the way the lady in black moved you while your dresses danced in the air, to the rhythm of a nonexistent music.
“And back again...” your girlfriend murmured, turning you around again, picking you up, keeping you so close to her...
“I'm not doing badly, am I?” you asked, mesmerized by her loving gaze, by the warm touch of her hand on your waist, by that romantic closeness straight out of another era.
“No,” she laughed, stealing a kiss from you before continuing the dance, one you hoped would never end.
Laughter, stumbling, sighs... It was certainly an afternoon to remember, a romantic dance that would remain forever in your memory.
Finally, Donna leaned your back to the floor, holding you, like a silent promise that she would always take care of you, that she would never let you fall. Your gaze was lost in hers as her arms grasped you, anticipating a heated kiss, one that nearly knocked your balance.
With a gentle tug, she lifted you back up, stopping the dance, focusing on your gaze.
“It's been a pleasure, my lady,” you whispered in a honeyed voice, eager for something you didn't recognize at first, but which intensified as your body moved closer to hers, as your eager lips began to kiss her deeply.
Donna's shy laugh made your skin vibrate as her hand tangled in your hair. The lady's grip on your waist tightened, forcing you to stay pressed against her body as you lost your breath in those frantic kisses.
Your bodies moved without rhythm, walking toward one of the walls of the room in a wet, different dance. Donna's hand moved down to your leg, running it around her waist, leaning against the wall as your tongues engaged in a tireless, hungry battle...
“Oh,” you said, pulling away with a shy giggle when you noticed a bulge pressing against your body, one that slightly deformed her dress. “Um... Donna...” you murmured, moving away, embarrassed by what you were feeling.
“What's wrong?” Donna asked, confused, following your gaze to the area between her legs. “Cavolo!” she exclaimed nervously when she noticed her involuntary erection, clumsily covering it with her hands.
“It seems you enjoyed dancing with me,” you joked, but didn't come closer again, causing her face to crumple in embarrassment.
“(Y/N), I... I-I'm sorry, I...” she apologized, slowly walking away, her whole body trembling. “Uh, it was accidental, I...”
"Calm down,” you said, somewhat nervous about the contact, about that unexpected reaction.
“I didn't mean to... I... cazzo,” the lady lamented, noticing that the arousal had softened, clasping her hands together to emphasize her apology. “Non sai davvero quanto mi dispiace..."
“It's fine,” you said, shaking your head, but unable to hide your nervousness, sweat beginning to run down your back. “I-I guess it's natural.”
“Yes, I...” she said, unable to meet your gaze. “I-I can't control my body reacting this way. I promise I'm not trying to pressure you or... or anything like that.”
“Pressure me?” you asked, raising your eyebrows and taking a step closer, feeling something inside you that compelled you to want to feel it again. “I don't think you chose your words well, Donna.”
“I-It's not my fault, (Y/N), you were so close and... Y-you'd better forget it, okay?” the lady stammered, fleeing from your subtle advances. “It’s a bit late... I-I should make dinner,” she said afterward, fleeing for good.
“Wait,” you interrupted, unable to find the words for what you wanted to say, not really knowing what you meant. “I'll come with you.”
“No!” she squealed, making you step back and blink in confusion. “No, erm... I-I want to be alone.”
“W-Well... okay, okay,” you murmured, exhausted, smiling at your girlfriend while she, still embarrassed, returned the gesture in a falsely friendly way.
A wicked chuckle reached your ears as you tried to process what had happened.
“What in the world are you laughing at?”
“You,” Angie affirmed. “Look what you've done to my Donna, you've stolen the blood from her head.”
“What?” you asked, your eyes wide open, slumping into one of the dining room chairs. “I didn't do anything.”
“Exactly, stupid girl! You didn't do anything...” the doll hissed, pointing her finger at you nastily. “You frigid, stupid girl!” she rebuked, making you growl in rage.
“What did you call me?” you whispered menacingly, standing up to tower over the doll, which maintained her sinister laughter. “Angie...”
“You've humiliated my Donna,” the puppet declared, causing you to shake your head in disbelief.
“Angie, I'm just a little bit away from telling Donna to deactivate you,” you hissed, not wanting to play into her dirty game.
“Ha! You're not capable!” she accused, chasing you around the dining room.
“Try me,” you whispered with a wicked grin, unable to find the calm to analyze what had happened, what you knew had to happen.
“Oh, so now it's my fault you don't want to make babies with my Donna?” Angie mocked, to which you stopped in your tracks.
“I don't...” you said, thinking of defending yourself, but ignoring her challenge. “You know what? It's none of your business.”
“None of your business, none of your business!” Angie squealed, dancing around to make you even more nervous.
Knowing that, unfortunately, you couldn't do anything against Angie, you settled for the images of yourself strangling her in your mind and sat down on the couch, sighing.
Your head was thinking about many things at once, all related to that incident. You wanted to ignore it, not think about it, avoid that need you both had felt for a long time.
It didn't matter what you did; you tried to read a magazine, a book... but nothing could get those thoughts out of your head, as if they had trapped you irrevocably.
Before meeting Donna, you were practically nobody; a simple villager, assistant of Duke searching for a better future, a future that didn't involve wearing the uniform of the castle maids.
Your outgoing and confident attitude helped you in your work, leading you to serve the Four Lords on behalf of your boss. Things were going well despite your loneliness, despite the rejection in the village caused by your association with their protectors, by your being, in some way, too close to them, to Mother Miranda.
Resigned to living alone, with a bright future but no one to share it with, you refused to seek love; you renounced the pleas of your heart. Of course, that renunciation was only a shield you imposed on yourself, and it disappeared the day Donna Beneviento, fourth Lord and dollmaker, asked you to have tea with her.
She was a strange woman, veiled in black, mysterious. Naturally, you were close to the village rumors, and honestly, at first, you were frightened to be that close to her.
That absurd fear disappeared when you began to get to know her, when the real Donna Beneviento revealed herself to you.
Her mind was sick, consumed by a madness she was born with, and which she couldn't control, but, despite that, you discovered an intelligent, elegant woman, far from those stupid rumors. The first kiss was the best of your life, it was the same day you saw her face, that you realized she was, without a doubt, the most beautiful woman you had ever met.
It didn't take long for her to beg you to stay, to never leave her side again, and you couldn't do anything else; you agreed without thinking. Those were wonderful months, months in which you truly got to know each other, in which you shared kisses, caresses, secrets...
You had everything you could wish for, despite the somewhat possessive and jealous attitude of the lady in black, which forced you to quit your job. Well, you didn't need it anymore after all.
You hadn't even thought about it, hadn't even realized that something was missing, that there was one thing you hadn't shared: your bodies.
Of course you knew about the changes Mother Miranda's gift had made in Donna's body; you never gave them any thought.
You loved her, you loved her with her changed body, with her madness; you loved everything about her. That wasn't the problem. The problem was... your lack of experience; your lack of knowledge when it came to merging with another person's body.
You couldn't tell if it was embarrassment, shyness, or fear of making a fool of yourself, but the topic of undressing and becoming one hadn't come up in all that time.
Donna was a terribly romantic, respectful woman, who never made the slightest mention of making love to you, of taking you, of making you hers. You believed it was about respect, affection, and understanding, but sometimes you thought there was something more.
That afternoon something changed, although it wasn't the first time her body had played tricks on her. Something inside you struggled to be heard, a scorching heat dying to escape your skin, your lips. Desire slowly grew within you, and you could no longer ignore it, but the doubts were too many and your insecurities always got the better of you.
Donna would never say anything, and you knew it, but... How could you get rid of that hunger, that physical need for love? Of course, if you wanted that heat to disappear, you had to be the one to act, even though you didn't know how.
“Mm, it's delicious,” you sighed with a smile, savoring the dinner the elusive Donna prepared for you, elegantly serving you a glass of wine.
“Grazie, (Y/N),” she replied. “I love cooking for you.”
You both raised your glasses, but the thoughts in your head erased that tender smile from your face.
“Um... Donna,” you said, clearing your throat and placing the wine on the table. “I-I'd like to talk to you.”
“Parlare? Yes, um... what's wrong?” she asked nervously at your words, starting to tremble.
“Oh, it's nothing, I was just wondering,” you whispered in such a low tone that the lady in black had to lean in a little to hear you. “Why were you in such a hurry earlier?”
The lady opened her mouth to say something, but closed it instantly, with a shamelessly fake smile.
“It was getting late, (Y/N),” she said in a tone that betrayed a huge lie.
Your nerves were making your legs tremble loudly under the table, your mind was a mess, and your words weren't able to calm down, to sound rational.
“Did... did you touch yourself?”
“Cosa?” Donna asked, choking on her wine, visibly uncomfortable with your stupid question, one you hadn't planned, but that just kept coming out of your lips. “What's the point of that question? Of course I didn’t,” she finally said, annoyed.
“I wasn't blaming you, I was just curious,” you apologized, putting your hands in front of you as a useless defense. “It's fine if you...”
“I don't touch myself, (Y/N),” the lady protested, frowning, gripping her fork tightly in her hand. “It would be disrespectful.”
“Oh, you think so?” you commented, wanting to throw yourself out the window or go back in time so you wouldn't ask that stupid question. “W-Well... but, but you've done it before, haven't you?”
“What?”
“Ugh, you know,” you hissed, red as blood, waving your hand to mimic the gesture.
“Cavolo, (Y/N), what's that about?” Donna said, shaking her head and downing her drink in one gulp. “Oh, wow, I'd better go get some more wine and…”
“Sit down, Donna,” you demanded confidently, pointing at her chair and making your confused girlfriend obey in a comically submissive manner. “Honey, we've never talked about this…”
“There's no need to,” she said, her voice hoarse, nerves flushing her cheeks.
“Why don't you want to talk about it?” you asked, feeling a strange confidence creep into your words.
“Why do you want to talk about it?” she asked back, scratching the back of her neck and avoiding your inquisitive eyes.
“I'm just, I'm just curious… come on…” you sighed, not really sure you wanted to continue that conversation.
“Va bene,” she said, nodding with a gasp. “Do you want to know if I've ever masturbated? Yes, of course I have, but that was before living with you, (Y/N).”
“Okay,” you whispered, with a fake smile, feeling the images begin to haunt your mind. “See? It's okay, I've done it too, you know? It's natural.”
“Oh,” the lady sighed, nodding, shifting uncomfortably in her chair. “Yes... ma... but don't think I'm some kind of pervert.”
“I don't think so,” you said with a genuine smile, shaking your head.
“My body... I... have needs and... well, I was alone and...” your girlfriend murmured, not knowing where to hide, blushing almost as much as you.
“And I'm not capable of satisfying them,” you whispered to yourself, with a sad sigh, realizing your mistake.
“Cosa? No, no, no, (Y/N),” Donna said, standing up from the chair and grabbing your hands tightly, crouching down in front of you. “Don't say that, amore mio...”
“I've tried to ignore it for a long time, Donna,” you confessed, daring to look her in the eye.
“Ignore?” she asked in a low, cautious tone. “I-I don't understand.”
"We've been together for months, living in the same house, sleeping in the same bed, and I... shit, I haven't made the slightest attempt to...” you continued, letting her hands go. “You know.”
“You're shaking,” the lady whispered, caressing your cheek. “I-I'm getting a little nervous... could you be clear?”
“Donna, do you... do you want to make love to me?” you asked, closing your eyes to avoid her shining eye, to avoid seeing her reaction.
“Oh, um...” she murmured, standing up again and biting her lip, completely lost. “I... Well, I...”
“Would you like to?” you insisted, standing up from the chair and cupping the brunette's face, which seemed distraught.
“Yes, of course I would like to, (Y/N),” she whispered embarrassed, ducking her head in a childish gesture.
“Donna, why didn't you tell me before?” you asked, lowering your hands to hers.
“I-I guess I was waiting for you to say something,” the lady in black sighed, playing with her fingers, interlacing them with yours. “I'm not an experienced woman and... well, I was afraid my body would scare you and...”
“You know that's not true. You're a terribly beautiful woman. I love everything about you,” you said with a smile, lifting her chin. “I... I feel the same way. I felt like I wouldn't be able to mention it, but... when we've been dancing, I... I've felt things, and... I think, I think we could try.”
“Are you sure?” Donna asked, her tone lighter, responding almost immediately to your suggestion. “I-If my body scared you, I...”
“No, Donna, your body doesn't scare me. I'm scared of not being enough for you,” you acknowledged, shaking her hands with yours as she nodded understandingly.
“I... I feel the same, (Y/N),” she murmured embarrassedly, looking away.
Your hand guided her face to yours, causing your lips to slowly caress hers, a warm, tender kiss giving you the courage you needed.
“I think we should put an end to that feeling, Donna,” you whispered, resting your forehead against hers. “I want to do it, now.”
“Ma…”
“I don't want any buts, my love,” you interrupted, playing with a black lock of her hair, getting a nod in response. “Let's go downstairs. Oh, and deactivate Angie. I wouldn't want anything to interrupt us.”
Donna complied with your request, placing the doll limply on a sofa and taking your hand as you led her to the elevator.
The walk to the bedroom was silent, somehow tense, and you thought you heard the fluttering sound of your heart in the darkness. Yes, you were terribly nervous, but you also wanted to put an end to that shyness, that desire you didn't really know how long it had been inside you, how long you'd been ignoring.
You both entered the bedroom, giving each other a similar look, a look that told you Donna was just as nervous as you were, or maybe more. The lady closed the door, slowly approaching you, who rubbed your already sweaty hands together.
“Well...” you sighed, unable to bear the overwhelming silence, glancing sideways at the bed. “W-We're here”
“Yes,” your girlfriend sighed, approaching the bed without raising her gaze, seeking refuge in a place that didn't exist. “Um... m-maybe we should... lie down?”
“Is that what you want?” you asked nervously, taking a step forward.
“I-I guess so,” she murmured, running a hand over her forehead, sitting up in bed, stroking the sheets. “I don't know.”
You laughed, shaking your head, and sat down next to her, holding her hand so she wouldn't tear the fabric off in her nervousness.
“Are you okay?” you asked cautiously, causing the lady to glance at you.
“I think so,” she replied, playing with your fingers, unsure of what to do, just like you.
“Honestly... I've never done this before. I'm nervous,” you confessed, letting your worries come out, even though you weren't sure it was a good idea.
“Never?” Donna asked, frowning suspiciously.
You shook your head, kissing the palm of her hand and letting it fall back onto the mattress.
“I find that hard to believe,” the lady commented, smiling shyly. “You're beautiful...”
“Mm,” you murmured, arching your eyebrows and placing your lips on hers for a moment before pulling away. “What about you? Have you...?”
“Um, well...” she whispered; her voice hoarse, moving slightly away from you. “O-Once.”
“Really?” you asked, blinking in surprise. You really hadn't expected that answer at all.
“What?” she asked suddenly, frowning. “You don't believe me? Do you think I'm lying?”
“Oh, it's not that, it's just... I, I was surprised, I thought...” you apologized, controlling your surprise.
“Well, you're wrong, although... I really... didn't mean to do it,” Donna explained, still looking annoyed. “Years ago, Alcina threw one of her maids to me, and I had to do it to get her to leave me alone. It didn't mean anything.”
“Okay, okay,” you said, stopping her words with a gesture of your hands, squeezing your eyes shut. “I don't want to know.”
“So, why do you ask?” she snapped, crossing her arms.
“Because I'm nervous… I don't know what to do,” you admitted, mirroring her gesture, letting the silence become terribly awkward.
“You talk like I should do,” she hissed, with a fleeting but sinister look.
“Okay, time out, Donna,” you said, shaking your head and moving closer to her again, taking her hands and a deep breath. “This is getting out of hand. The last thing I want to do is argue with you. I really want you to take me, my love.”
“Anch'io,” she whispered, gently caressing your face, relaxing her expression.
“O-Okay...” you sighed, nodding. “Okay, then... I think, I think we should... I think we're wearing too many clothes. Is it okay if we get naked?” you offered, trying not to let the trembling in your body transmit to your words.
“Va bene,” the lady replied, stepping back and standing up as you did the same.
Without another word, your hands went to the clasps of your dress, playing before you began to untie them, closing your eyes, minimizing the embarrassment you felt. Donna did the same with the top of her dress, exposing before you the beauty of her pale skin, the almost divine shape of her breasts, carefully protected by an elegant lace bra.
“You're beautiful, Donna,” you said involuntarily, feeling the chill your dress left on your body as it slid down to your ankles.
She laughed shyly, but didn't respond to your compliments. Instead, her hands lowered her black skirt without looking you in the eyes, betraying her own shyness.
“Bellissima,” Donna said when her eyes met your semi-naked body, making the blush on your cheeks give your skin the warmth that the lack of clothing had robbed you of.
“Mm,” you murmured, playing with your bare ankle on the floor and approaching the bed again, reaching out to pull her towards you, lying down.
Once on the mattress, the silence and uncertainty returned, as did that fruitless pursuit of averted glances.
“Oh, um... I didn't ask you,” you said, wanting, in any way, to break that absurd silence, that invisible barrier that shyness had placed between you. “Y-You have... protection?”
“Cosa? What do you mean?” the lady asked, sitting down to imitate your posture.
“Well, I mean, do you have a...” you explained, playing with the sheets, but stopping immediately, fearing that the topic would spark another absurd argument. “Nevermind”
“Mm,” the brunette nodded, lowering her shoulders, expectant of something that never seemed to arrive. “I think... I think... we should kiss,” she mentioned seconds later, catching your attention. “Does that sound okay?”
“Yeah, good idea,” you said, leaning a little closer to her and closing your eyes, enjoying that shy touch of your lips.
Try as you might to remember, you were unable to feel anything familiar in those shaky, clumsy kisses. Not even your first kiss was so simple, so empty. Your hands hugged your bodies, pulling you closer together, but the warm feeling in your stomach was nothing like the one you'd felt that afternoon.
The kisses trembled, vibrating with the obvious embarrassment you both shared, making you sigh in frustration. It would only be a moment of hesitation, until those wet caresses intensified, until the excessive shyness you felt began to disappear.
But that didn't happen. Neither of you moved your hands from their places, neither of you made an attempt to deepen the kiss, to take it a step further. You certainly looked like two teenagers experimenting, anything but two women who loved each other, ready to have their first time together.
“Okay, stop,” you said, shaking your head and pulling away from the kiss. “I think this isn't going well.”
“What did I do wrong?” the brunette asked, frowning at you. “W-We were kissing, weren't we?”
“Yeah, but... I don't know, Donna, shouldn't we do more than just kiss?” you asked, annoyed, angry with yourself, with your cowardice. “You know, t-touch each other or something”
“W-Well,” she mumbled, looking away. “Y-You can touch me if you want.”
“Why don't you touch me?” you asked suddenly, frightened by that suggestion, one you didn't know if you could do as she deserved. “Come on, Donna, I need you to take the lead.”
“Me? You want me to take the lead?” she asked, pointing at herself, as if you'd offended her. “(Y/N), I can't...”
“Of course you can, you're more experienced,” you rebuked, your tone too acidic, too dangerous.
“I've already told you that's not true. I didn't do anything, I didn't even touch that maid,” the Lord defended herself with a childish gesture, crossing her arms again. “She... she did it all.”
“What did she do?” you asked curiously, trying to follow in the footsteps of that odious maid, to lose the irrational fear you had.
“I thought you didn't want to talk about it,” Donna said, her tone haughty, her expression cold as ice.
“I don't want to, but... shit,” you sighed, rolling your eyes, staring at the rickety bedroom ceiling. “Let's stop this nonsense, let's see... Hey, are you... Are you hard yet?”
“Of course I’m not,” she protested, looking down in a disconcerting way. “How do you expect me to get hard if you're always interrupting?”
“Oh, interrupting? What exactly am I interrupting? A few teenage kisses?” you mocked, starting to think you'd already failed, that it wouldn't be your first time.
“Cazzo,” Donna muttered, shaking her head and turning her back on you, terribly frustrated. “This isn't going anywhere.”
“You're right,” you sighed, relaxed but saddened by your failure, so sad that all you could do was... laugh.
Laughter overcame you as you tried to hide it, covering your mouth with your hand, amused by this absurd situation.
“What's so funny?” Donna asked, annoyed by your unjustified fit of laughter.
“Donna...” you said, amused, walking on your knees across the mattress and placing a hand on her shoulders, slowly turning her towards you. “We're two fools”
“Mm?”
“Look at us, incapable of taking the initiative, it's almost sweet,” you said, relaxed. “And I thought I was the only one terrified of failure...”
“Don't laugh at me,” your girlfriend hissed, her gaze dangerous. “What about you? A famous merchant who can charm anyone and when it comes to making love, she shrinks like a little girl.”
“Oh, that's a low blow,” you replied, staring into hers. “And you? A Lord, who has the entire village under her control and can't even touch her girlfriend's breasts...”
She didn't respond; she simply gritted her teeth, still looking at you, analyzing you with her gaze. After a tense moment, her face relaxed, as did yours, and the corners of her mouth slowly lifted, her body began to tremble.
A soft laugh escaped her lips, one that mutated into a laugh that you followed mockingly, filling the bedroom with nervous but completely innocent laughter.
You gave her a small punch on the shoulder, which she returned with amusement, thus beginning a fight between two lovers, a war of laughter, caresses and tickles that was very different from your initial intentions.
“I love you,” you whispered, leaning into her chest, relaxed after that funny, romantic moment.
“I love you, (Y/N),” she replied, running a hand over your face, pulling your body closer to hers. “I'm sorry. I don't think you've had luck with me.”
“Are you kidding?” you said, sitting up, kissing her quickly to clear her mind of any crisis. “I'm the luckiest girl in the world, Donna.”
“Mm,” she murmured uncertainly, beginning to play with your hands.
“It's funny... This afternoon, while we were dancing...” you commented, realizing something that could save the night. “…you guided me perfectly; you knew how to lead me... Maybe... maybe you can do it now.”
“I wish I could,” Donna whispered, gently kissing your cheek as she sat down on the bed.
“Come,” you said without thinking, reaching for her hand to gently guide it to your breast, so that her skin gently caressed the fabric of your bra, making her swallow nervously. “Do you like it?”
“Yes...” Donna sighed, letting her hand wander freely over your body, her fingers tracing the skin of your chest, your stomach. “N-Now you”
Then her hand grabbed yours, bringing it to the same spot, letting your fingers slowly brush the softness of her pale skin, without losing eye contact. A mischievous smile discreetly formed on her face when your bold hand slipped under the black fabric of her breasts.
“Mm, I think it would be better if we took this off,” you commented, your eyes shining differently; goosebumps rising from her erratic caresses.
“Yes,” she said, pulling away, her hands moving behind her back, hands that you immediately stopped.
“Wait, my love,” you whispered in her ear, removing her fingers from the clasp, moving it until, with a sound, the garment loosened from her back, falling onto the mattress, revealing her beauty to you.
Your hands, mesmerized by the softness of her breasts, by the effect your fingers had on her nipples, ran over her figure as if she were something divine, something untouchable that was now within reach of a simple villager like you.
“Can I...? I want to see you too,” the brunette asked, moving your wrists away and running hers down your back, undoing your bra, without taking her gaze off you.
“What are you waiting for?” you mocked, amused by Donna's reaction to seeing your bare chest. “Touch me, Donna.”
She nodded, bringing her hands to your breasts, squeezing them gently, digging her hands into your bare flesh; curiously pinching everything within her reach.
Your clumsy exploration was interrupted when you pulled away, glancing at each other briefly before melting into a deep kiss, a kiss that dispelled all doubts, with caresses that swept the fear and shame from your skin.
As you felt your back lower toward the mattress, you couldn't help but smile, feeling yourself in your lover's arms, letting yourself be carried away by them just as you had that same afternoon, trusting her, letting your mind clear and enjoy all these new sensations.
“Donna...” you whispered, interrupting the heated kisses, the involuntary movements your hips made as they rubbed against each other. “Dance with me”
She looked at you, smiling for a moment before crashing her lips onto yours again, in a much more frenetic, more uninhibited kiss. You gasped as you noticed the way her lips caressed your neck, her mouth taking the initiative you both needed, making you want her more and more.
“Gods...” you sighed as you felt the damp heat of her kisses on your skin, her lips capturing your nipples, gently pulling them.
Her lack of experience was almost imperceptible; lust had taken over your lover, as well as your body, which moved tirelessly, craving more contact, craving so much more.
“There's nothing I want right now but to see the beauty of your naked body (Y/N),”Donna whispered with that honeyed accent that drove you wild, making you writhe with a high-pitched moan.
“O-Okay,” you said, fear returning to your body, insecurity creeping back into your mind due to the lack of her passionate kisses. “But... you go first.”
“Is that what you want, dolcezza?” she asked hesitantly, knowing her arousal was quite evident, even enclosed in the underwear. “Will everything be okay?”
“Better than okay,” you whispered, daring to tug at her lower lip, giving her room to grant you the glorious sight of her body.
Donna obeyed, though her hands were trembling, causing your mouth to drop open as you took in all her beauty: her curves, her divine body, her erection framed perfectly between her legs… It was the most beautiful thing you'd ever seen, the most literal and pure expression of beauty.
“Your turn,” the lady said with a smile, probably noticing your hands wandering curiously down her body.
You nodded, annoyed by your frustrated exploration, pulling away and reaching down to your underwear. Unfortunately, your clumsiness made it difficult, and you wanted to curse the Gods for making you that way.
Your girlfriend giggled with amusement, crawling toward you, gripping the edges of the unruly fabric with her fingers, slowly pulling it down your ankles.
“Che bella sei...” she sighed, placing her hand on your stomach, exploring it the same way you did, exploring every inch of your skin; at first with her fingers, with the softness of her hands, then with her bold lips, with her mouth that seemed never to tire of kissing your body.
There was a tangle of caresses and erratic kisses in that bed. Your fingers handled everything they could, discovering the touch of her skin, every corner of her body. Her hands did the same, running down your legs, dragging her nails over your skin.
You intuitively wrapped your arms around her erection, noticing how it grew even more with your touch, moaning as her lips briefly touched your wetness. You began to stimulate it little by little.
“I-I think... I think...” you murmured, stopping your touch, gently pushing away her playful tongue from your clit. “I don’t think I want to play anymore… I want you, my love.”
Donna nodded nervously, placing her lips on yours, moving closer, sinking down onto your body as her hands slowly parted your legs.
The subtle caress of her penis at your entrance sent shivers down your spine, a reflex movement that forced you to move away slightly, making Donna look at you, worried.
“Oh, don't pay attention to me,” you said, amused. “Come here... make me yours.”
A deep kiss hid the burning sensation of her erection slowly entering you, causing your body to stretch, eliciting a moan of pain from you.
“Bellissima... am I hurting you?” the lady asked, stopping her movements, trying to see in your eyes the suffering she thought she was causing. “I can stop if you want.”
“No, no, Donna,” you said, closing your eyes, getting used to the feeling of having lost your innocence, to your walls beginning to embrace her more gently. “You're not exactly tiny, are you?”
“Wow, I'm sorry,” Donna said, unable to stop her hips from moving slowly, her shaft from forcing its way inside you as the lady stifled a deep moan. “Così... buono...”
Noticing the pain disappear, new sensations began to course through you, a mysteriously burning shiver moving your body to keep pace with her gentle movements. Donna was completely inside you, filling you completely. You were one.
“My love...” you sighed moaning, moving your hands to the lady, gripping her back as her thrusts forced you to writhe. “Donna…”
“(Y/N)…” she moaned too, burying her head in your shoulder, achieving a slow and tender rhythm as your wet walls embraced her, holding her inside you.
The words ceased to make sense, giving way to an erotic succession of moans and grunts of pleasure. Your fingers trailed down her back, scratching her skin as she moved her hips, her erection settling inside you.
The pleasure you never thought you'd get with her became overwhelming. Dirty thoughts appeared in your mind, replacing your insecurities, reveling in all those new and addictive sensations.
“Wait,” you said, pushing into the lady as her thrusts accelerated, foreshadowing an ending you weren't ready for yet, even though your body was.
“Come, Donna.”
The lady pulled out of you with a frustrated growl and words you didn't understand, but you silenced them with a hot kiss, eager and hungry for more, for much more. With a firm movement, you threw your girlfriend onto the bed and climbed over her hips, keeping your gaze fixed on her shining eye, on her face flushed with pleasure.
“Let me lead you now,” you whispered in her ear, before positioning yourself, gently gripping her shaft until it was back at your entrance, sliding over it slowly, very slowly.
“Cazzo...” the lady protested, hitting the mattress with the pleasure of this new position.
Your body quickly grew accustomed to his shaft, and as your hands ran over his sweaty chest, you began to move, slowly but surely.
“Do you like it?” you asked in a lusty tone, a groan echoing in your words as your hips moved against her, feeling, for the first time, in control.
Poor Donna was ecstatic with pleasure and could only nod, placing her hands on your body to guide it clumsily, thus creating the false illusion that she was really in control.
“Oh, shit, shit,” you said as your body begged for more, begging you to speed up your movements.
Your walls moved restlessly, squeezing her inside you so she couldn't escape. All your muscles tensed at once, and with a cry of pleasure, that tension turned into your first genuine orgasm.
“Donna, Donna...” you moaned as your body shook, held by her arms, by the hips pounding into you from below. “Fuck!”
“(Y/N)...” she moaned, not letting you rest, not allowing your body to relax prematurely. “Sto... sto per venire, amore mio...”
“Do it... Do it!” you cried, your limbs still trembling.
A slurred growl told you that Donna had released herself, along with a terribly pleasurable heat inside you. It was an indescribable sensation, a warm and wet caress that coursed through your walls; her seed filling you, making you hers.
Neither of you spoke afterward; only the kisses, the hugs, the caresses spoke...
“Donna,” you broke the silence as the exhausted lady played with your hair.
I think this idea might be a bit triggering, so you can totally ignore it if you want, but I just thought of it and had to share! What if Mother Miranda kidnaps the Reader because she thinks they know who the perfect vessel for Rose could be, but they really don’t have a clue?
So, after asking a bunch of questions and getting no answers, Miranda gets super mad and hands the Reader over to Donna to lock them in the basement. Miranda drops by every now and then, trying to get the Reader to talk, but when they keep quiet, she loses it and tortures them. After she’s done, she tells Donna to do the same when she's gone.
Donna hesitates at first, but eventually decides to take care of the Reader after Miranda leaves the mansion. This whole cycle keeps happening—Miranda tortures the Reader, they don’t know anything, then Donna comes in to help afterward.
But one time, Miranda totally runs out of patience and goes harder on the Reader than ever before. Donna can’t handle it, so she finally steps in and convinces Miranda that the Reader really doesn’t know anything. After that, she takes extra care of the Reader and all that good stuff!
Yesss!!!! Sorry about the delay and thank you for your request!!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!!! :)))))
Hopeless
Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem! Reader
Warnings: Angst, slightly dark themes, hurt & comfort, fluff...
Word count: 7,514
Summary: You are trapped in a nightmare and no one was going to save you...
N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open!!! I'm waiting yours!!! I love you all!!! :))
“She's a stubborn little bird,” the blonde commented with a sinister smile, glancing sideways at the other woman accompanying you, the one dressed entirely in black.
“I don’t...” you murmured.
“Shut up!” the woman dressed as a priestess, the woman who had kidnapped you a few days ago, shrieked. “If you're not going to tell me what I want to know, remain silent.”
The other woman looked at the witch briefly, but you couldn't tell how, since a strange black veil covered her face.
You knew little about where you were at that moment. You remembered the cold, an impressive mansion next to a waterfall, a portrait you could barely make out, and finally the darkness and dampness of a basement.
At least it wasn't the kind of cage that woman Miranda had locked you in for days, but of course, you were aware that your situation hadn't improved at all.
“Ugh...” Miranda sighed, rubbing her eyes and shaking her head. “Donna, I guess I can trust you.”
The lady in black nodded slowly, without saying a word. All you could do was watch, instinctively protect yourself, and slide to the floor. Trying to escape wasn't an option; you had marks on your arm to prove it.
The veiled woman didn't move; she stood before you, like a stone statue. You didn't know for sure, but you had the feeling those hidden eyes were watching you.
The priestess moved forward, leaning over you as you shielded yourself with your arms.
“You're lucky I have important things to do than make you talk, little bird,” Miranda whispered to you, tilting her head. “Or rather… You're almost lucky,” she murmured with a terrifying laugh, sitting up and addressing the woman in black again. “Fine, Donna… Keep her alive, will you?”
The lady nodded slightly again, and a cold draft told you that your kidnapper had moved away, causing you to lower your arms. The woman leaned toward the witch, murmuring something you couldn't hear.
“Of course you won't let me down, my dear,” the blonde said. “Well, I have to go, and I'll tell you again: As much as you'd like to play with her... don't kill her, okay? And you, little bird,” she whispered, approaching you again. “Don't force poor Donna to disobey me, will you? She doesn't like rude dolls.”
With a wide smile, the kidnapper turned around, leaving the dark room, leaving you alone with the unknown, silent lady.
The sound of the elevator told you she had left, and your heart calmed slightly, at least until your gaze fell on the strange woman again.
The silence was somehow reassuring, but uncomfortable. That lady in black stood motionless, her eyes probably fixed on you. For a moment, you thought you felt some relief, but the words of that woman, Mother Miranda, echoed in your head.
“Please...” you sighed softly, keeping your gaze on her. “Please help me, that woman has kidnapped me.”
The lady didn't move, but she turned her head towards you, showing she was listening. Of course, there was no response.
“Please, I shouldn't be here, I...” you insisted, standing up, but keeping your distance from that Donna lady. “I haven't done anything to deserve this.”
Once again, silence reigned in the dark basement.
“I've been locked in this place for days. I'm hungry and thirsty. Please, I beg you, set me free,” you pleaded, clasping your hands together.
A sigh escaped the black veil, and her heels clicked as she got closer to you, as if she were studying you, watching you. A pale hand reached out slowly, cautiously, towards your face.
You averted your face from the contact, causing her arm to flinch and a gasp to emerge from the black fabric. Then, without saying a word, she walked toward the door, ready to abandon you there.
“Wait!” you screamed desperately, lunging at her, grabbing her wrist. “Help me, please,” you whispered.
The lady turned slowly, slipping from your grasp with a sharp movement, but not moving away from you.
“Please... Donna, y-your name is Donna, right?” you stammered, breathing heavily, sensing an invisible danger that seemed to be stalking you.
She looked at you, you were sure of it, and grabbed your shoulders with a swift movement, forcing you to walk backward, to the back of the room.
“No, please, no,” you said, closing your eyes, fearing a retaliation, one that never came.
The sound of her heels fading away made you relax, keeping your gaze on the lady in black as she disappeared through the door, merging into the darkness of the basement.
“No...” you sighed, walking back to the exit. “Wait, please wait!”
The door slammed shut in your face, and you began to bang desperately on it.
“Help!” you shrieked, your fists bouncing off the wood. “Please, someone help me!”
“Shut up, you noisy girl!” A disgusting shriek came from the other side of the room, making you flee to the small bed. Could it be that strange woman? That voice certainly didn't suit her at all.
Exhausted, you sank onto the mattress, curling into a ball and letting the tears escape. Your situation hadn't improved, it never would.
Maybe it was your fault for fleeing your country, for seeking refuge on the old continent, for wanting to create a new life.
Almost a year ago, you lost your father, the only person you had left in the world. If you closed your eyes long enough, you could still hear his last words, his distorted voice through the phone, his last call.
“You have to burn those documents, (Y/N), do you understand?”
“Dad, what's going on?” you asked, his voice sounding cold, as if he were hurt.
“Honey, y-you just do what I say, do it, (Y/N), and no matter what happens... Remember, your father loves you more than anything...”
You obeyed his orders without question, unaware that it would be the last time you would speak to him.
The next day, reality hit you. That strange scientific expedition had gone wrong. The ship your father was on, along with his companions, had run aground in the Louisiana swamps; there were no survivors.
You'd never know what really happened, what was in those documents he forced you to destroy, but you barely gave it any thought. You were left alone, your dreams as a young scientist sunk with that ship.
Nothing mattered anymore; nothing was left for you in the United States. You'd have to start from scratch.
You spent months traveling around Europe, looking for the ideal place for someone like you, but there didn't seem to be one. Romania seemed pleasant enough, and spending one more day among those snowy mountains was the worst decision of your life.
Being kind was your downfall. An old woman asked you for help crossing a street, something that wasn't suspicious at all. Then you saw her smile, and everything went black.
You woke up in a cage, next to a blonde woman who called herself Mother Miranda. It didn't take you long to recognize that woman in one of your father's photos. She, along with him, had worked in the scientific group, The Connections, and had been on the Louisiana ship.
It was impossible; that woman was an old woman, and suddenly, she transformed into that horrible witch.
What did she want from you? Information, documents your father had kept secret, documents that apparently contained something very important to her.
And so, you ended up kidnapped in that strange village filled with nighttime roars, with shadows that seemed to lurk around that imposing castle. But Miranda's patience had its limits, and after days of torture, she decided to take you to that mansion, with that lady in black.
You were trapped in that place, and the worst part was... no one would come for you, something Miranda reminded you of again and again. What horrors awaited you with that woman in mourning? It seemed you wouldn't have to wait long to find out.
Your crying was interrupted by the creaking of the door.
That woman named Donna appeared slowly, and you instinctively got out of bed, leaning against the wall farthest from her. She was holding something in her hand, something steaming, which she placed on a small table next to a glass of clear liquid.
“W-What...?” you sighed in confusion, peering over to see what the steaming plate contained. It seemed impossible: Food. “What...?”
She didn't answer; she just stared at you, as if waiting for something. You, of course, didn't move, but tried to confirm that what was on the plate was indeed food, eyeing it suspiciously.
“A-Are you giving me food?” you asked in a low, cautious voice, taking a step forward. “Why?”
You expected nothing but a tense silence in response.
A tired sigh escaped from behind the black veil before the lady approached, roughly tugging at your arm and leading you to the table.
“Let me go!” you yelled, trying to defend yourself. You were weak, and that woman seemed stronger; you had nothing to do. “No!”
Her hand rested on your shoulder, pushing you down onto the chair in front of the steaming food.
“Why are you doing this?” you asked, your voice trembling, your senses clouded by the alluring smell of that plate of pasta. “What do you want from me?”
She didn't respond. She let your arm go and brought it up to your face with a strange, erratic movement, wiping away with her thumb a tear that was running down your cheek. You remained motionless, petrified with fear as her hand moved down to yours, to the marks left on your skin by the handcuffs you wore in that cage.
Her finger curiously traced the wounds, gently, delicately.
Your instinct forced you to move away, frightened, and she responded with a quick gesture, moving away, but still looking at you.
The lady clasped her hands in front of her, nodding towards her plate of food, turning and disappearing quickly, leaving you alone again.
When you recovered, you looked at the pasta. It might have been poisoned, it might be the last thing you'd ever eat, but your desperate stomach growled loudly, forcing you to pick up the fork.
The flavor was perfect, delicious, and the warmth ran down your throat, comforting you. There was nothing unusual, no sour taste to indicate that the dish had been altered in any way. It was food, real food.
You devoured the pasta quickly, noticing how you regained some strength, how the water calmed the screams in your dry throat. Maybe you'd gotten lucky, or so you thought for a second.
After dinner, you began to feel lucid and looked around the room more closely.
Flour, cans of preserves, boxes... At least you wouldn't go hungry. You sat up in bed, sighing, wondering what you could do to save yourself, and noticed a detail: the bedroom door wasn't completely closed; a black line appeared between the frame and the handle.
“My God...” you sighed, slowly getting up, pushing the door to check that it wasn't, indeed, locked. That could be your chance.
You were afraid, but your desire to escape was much stronger. Carefully, you walked, peeking through the door, looking around. Darkness was all you could see.
After a few minutes, checking that the woman wasn't around, you decided to try your luck, see if you had any luck left. You slowly left the room, wandering through that damp and gloomy place.
The labyrinthine hallways were a bad idea, and you turned to look for the exit, only to find a wood-paneled room, one that seemed to lead to a possible salvation. The creaking walls and the feeling of danger invaded you, forcing you to walk faster.
A smile formed on your face when you saw your salvation: an old-fashioned elevator that seemed to be waiting for you.
“Come on, come on, come on,” you repeated, nervously pressing the button, trying to open the door grille, without success. It was locked. “No, no, no, damn it,” you wailed, grabbing the bars and shaking them. “There has to be something around here I can use to open it,” you muttered, looking around.
“I wouldn't do that, stupid!” A squeaky voice like the one from a moment ago startled you. You'd been caught.
You gasped in shock, turning around as quickly as you could; there was no one, nothing in that place, only the dim light from a lamp, confirming that you were alone.
“Shit,” you whispered, your heart about to jump out of your chest, scanning your surroundings, looking for the lady in black, the source of that unpleasant voice.
Walking, you moved forward, peeking into the rooms you found and tripping over something that had been thrown on the floor. It looked like a doll, an antique ventriloquist's doll made of porcelain and wood.
“What’s this?” you asked quietly, bending down to pick up the puppet and examine it closely. “What the...?”
“Boo!”
“Ahhhh!” you squealed as the doll moved, as that squeaky voice came out of its mouth and its limbs thrashed in your arms. “Oh, God!” you squealed again, dropping the doll and running through the hallways.
“Hey! Be more careful, stupid! I'll tell Donna, I'll tell Donna!” it crooned, its sinister laugh echoing off the basement walls as you desperately tried to flee.
“Fuck, fuck,” you gasped as you ran, staring into the darkness behind you, clumsily tripping over something that crossed your path, a black figure you knew. “Donna...” you sighed, horrified by the consequences of your attempt to flee, but too scared to even think about it.
“Hey, come back here!” that voice shrieked, forcing you to make a stupid gesture, to take refuge behind the veiled woman, protecting yourself from that terrifying living doll.
The lady in black turned her head towards you, allowing you to see a thin line of pale skin on the sides of her veil. Realizing your mistake, you stepped away from her black clothing, unable to find a valid excuse for your behavior.
“S-Sorry, I was...” you murmured, moving further away from the lady as she followed you with her gaze. “I was looking for the bathroom.”
“Bullshit! Donna, she was trying to escape!” the voice spoke, making you retreat behind the lady again, who this time pulled you away, grabbing your arms.
“Please... I won't do it again, I...” you begged as she held you, while, out of the corner of your eye, you saw something impossible: That doll walking on its own, approaching you. “Oh my God... it's impossible...”
“Shut up, silly girl, do you think you could escape? Silly, silly,” the doll mocked, hands on its hips.
The lady abruptly let you go, approaching the puppet, extending its arms to her owner.
“How is this possible?” you asked, delirious at the sight before you, observing every detail of the doll. “No... This isn't happening.”
“Miranda didn't send us the smartest girl in the class, huh?” the puppet mocked, causing its laughter to bounce off the walls. The woman in black remained motionless.
“Are you a ventriloquist?” you asked, slowly moving away from the lady and her doll. “S-Sorry, I…”
“Shut up, silly girl,” the doll—or the woman, you didn’t know—scolded you. “By the way, the bathroom is down the hall on the left, not by the elevator gates.”
“Yes, I…” you said, thinking maybe you were talking to Donna, that it was her way of communicating with people. “I won’t try anything again, I promise, but please, d-don’t hurt me, Donna.”
“Donna? Lady Beneviento to you, stupid,” the doll snapped, making your legs shiver. “I’m The Fabulous Angie, but you can call me Angie for short,” it said afterward, extending a wooden hand towards you. “Come on, don’t be rude!”
Hesitant, but wanting to protect your life, you shook off the doll’s hand, walking away shortly after, your gaze searching the end of the hallway.
“That's it, go to the bathroom and then to bed, silly, don't make us angry,” Angie said, as you walked around, mouth agape.
You had no choice but to do what she said; everything was too strange, and you were too tired to think about anything else or run for your life.
Once in bed, the thoughts and memories of what you had experienced prevented your body from resting; living dolls, women in mourning, dark hallways... Yes, you might not be in a cage anymore, but you were in another prison.
The creaking of the door put you on alert again, deciding it was best to pretend to sleep, hoping the punishment for your disobedience would be swift.
The mattress sank with a new weight, and the scent of lavender that flooded your senses told you it was the lady in black who had sat down. With your back to her, you closed your eyes tightly, suppressing as much as you could the trembling of your body, the involuntary sobs you were emitting.
“Ti prego non piangere...”
You had to make a great effort not to jump when you heard that hoarse voice, so different from the doll's. You felt a warm hand in your hair, a subtle and silent caress. Her hand tangled itself slowly in your hair, and another hand pulled up the sheets to cover your trembling body.
Despite the strangeness of the situation, you didn't move. You let her cover you in a disturbingly maternal way, getting up with a sigh and carefully closing the door again.
You didn't have the desire or the time to think about what had just happened; it would be best to wait until the next day.
Nothing happened when you woke up. There was no punishment for your daring; there was nothing, only silence, only the distinctive smell of freshly brewed coffee and the sound of heels leaving your room.
“What?” you said drowsily, checking that you had a full breakfast on the table, your eyes searching for the lady in black. “Breakfast?” you asked, your voice cracking with sleep. You looked at the toast and the freshly brewed coffee.
“Good morning, stupid!” a high-pitched squeal almost made you jump.
That horrible doll was on the floor, waving mockingly at you. No matter how hard you searched, you couldn't find its owner, and you couldn't find a rational way to explain that extraordinary ventriloquism.
“Ahhh,” you murmured in fear, shrinking in on yourself as the puppet climbed onto the table.
“Well, I hope you've learned not to try anything stupid, silly girl,” Angie said, in a military tone. “It's your life that's at stake.”
“Miranda said she needed me alive,” you whispered, causing that sinister laugh to hurt your ears again.
“Oh, there are worse things than death, silly girl,” the puppet mocked, leaning too close to you and pretending to clear its throat. “So, Donna asked me to tell you that you can't get out of here, no matter how many times you try.”
“Donna told you to tell me? Aren't you her?” you asked curiously, shaking your head, but letting your hunger take over, reaching for a piece of toast. “I don't understand what's going on here...”
“Me? Donna? Please... I'm much more funny than her, you'll see,” the doll laughed, sitting on the table and swinging its legs, leaving you more and more astonished. “Anyway, you can wander around the basement, but try anything strange and you'll pay dearly for it, stupid...”
With those disturbing words, the doll disappeared, causing the idea of escape to return to your mind, but not as intensely as before. You knew there was real danger in that place.
Two strange days passed. You ate breakfast, lunch, dinner... That strange woman fed you, but never said anything, not a word came from behind that black veil. You only saw her on those rare occasions; the rest of the time, you were alone.
Despite the warnings of that impossible living doll, you tried to escape once more, realizing, to your misfortune, that the place was much more dangerous than it seemed.
It was so real... much more real than a dream. The hallway was on fire, a ship's siren ravaged your ears, and your dead father haunted you, blaming you for everything. You didn't know what that was, how it was possible to hallucinate so lucidly every time you approached the elevator, but you didn't ask.
Donna, that Donna Beneviento, seemed to pay no attention to your escape attempts, probably because she, somehow, was causing those horrible visions. Resigned to staying there, you began to carefully explore that basement.
There was no torture, no contact. If it weren't for the fact that you knew the Angie doll was following you, it would seem you'd been abandoned to your fate in that place, alongside a lady in black who seemed nothing but a ghost.
“Hmm...” you murmured one bored morning, tired of begging for your release, accepting your cruel fate, studying the books in the old office.
In one of them, something was sticking out of the pages. You carefully pulled it off the shelf, frowning as you read a title you didn't understand.
“Italian? Great, I should have paid attention in my classes,” you commented with a wry smile, flipping through the pages until you found the paper sticking out.
It looked like an old black and white photograph, a photograph showing a family with serious expressions: a father, a mother, a teenage girl, and a baby, held in the woman's arms.
Curious, you turned the photograph over to read a small inscription.
Famiglia Beneviento, 1987
“1987?” you asked silently, shaking your head and turning the photo over again.
The teenage girl looked somehow familiar; she was a brunette, with her hair tied back in a messy bun and... with a scar across her right eye. In her arms, there was something even stranger: that sinister doll, Angie, was resting in the arms of the young woman, which meant one thing: That girl was Donna, the lady in the black veil.
“It's not possible,” you said, reading the inscription again. No, it certainly wasn't possible. The lady's hands were young, too young for that date, for all the years that had passed. “What are you?”
“Do you find anything interesting?” A familiar voice made you turn quickly, to discover something terrifying.
That horrible witch, Mother Miranda, was leaning against the doorframe, staring at you with glowing eyes. Fear gripped your body; the relative tranquility you'd experienced disappeared with her presence. You backed away slowly, your throat dry, you were paralyzed.
“You look fine, (Y/N),” the blonde commented, approaching slowly. “But I'm afraid we need to talk.”
Screams, demands, shoving… Your days in that cage resurfaced from your vague memory. Miranda tortured you on a chair, inside a sinister workshop while the lady in black, oblivious to what was happening, seemed to be working on something.
“You can’t remain silent forever!” Miranda shrieked, furious, gripping your cheeks tightly as your tears stained the stone floor. “For the last time…” she snarled, hurting you, digging her metal nails into your skin. “Where are those documents? What was the plan B?”
“I-I…” you stammered, paralyzed with fear, hissing in pain. “I don’t know what plan B you’re talking about, I don’t know anything, I swear…”
“You’re lying!” the witch shrieked, letting you go, almost knocking you off balance. “Your stupid father discovered a way to improve Eveline… I know you know it, speak up!”
“I don't know who Eveline is,” you said, your voice breaking, clumsily shielding yourself with your arms. “I don't know what you're talking about!”
“You useless little girl!" she yelled again, slapping you hard, knocking you to the floor. You felt a painful wetness on your cheek.
Desperate, you curled up on the cold stone floor, pleading desperately.
“Please... I don't know anything, please,” you sobbed, letting your tears soak into the blood running down your cheek due to the cut of her golden nails.
“Ugh,” Miranda protested, crossing her arms and shaking her head. “You're stubborn (Y/N),” she murmured, approaching, bending down and tugging hard at your hair. “Luckily for me, no one's coming after you. You can shut your big mouth as long as you want, I can wait…”
The woman released you, causing your head to bounce against the floor as you sobbed uncontrollably.
“Sorry, Donna, looks like you have to hold her in a little longer,” the priestess murmured before disappearing from the doors. “I'll come back tomorrow.”
The silence was only interrupted by your crying, your moans of pain. You remained lying on the floor, being closely watched by the living doll, which moved away, running toward its distracted owner.
“That looks bad,” Angie commented.
The woman stopped sewing, glancing at you before continuing.
No one was going to save you, and that reality made your tears intensify.
“I-I have to get out of here,” you muttered, dragging yourself along the floor towards the exit, clumsily trying to escape, something you knew you couldn't do.
The lady in black abruptly rose from the chair, still watching you, walking slowly towards your torture-battered body. She seemed nervous, playing with her hands in front of her body and seeming to nod and shake her head erratically, turning away from you.
When you heard her walk away, you continued crawling, but exhaustion and despair stopped you, causing you to collapse.
Donna, Lady Beneviento, stood up again, gesticulating strangely, as if she were debating something internally. Finally, her pace quickened, and her arms picked you up from the floor, pulling you to your feet. Panic gripped you.
“No, no! Please, no!” you begged, struggling with the woman, preventing her from holding you, kicking until she had no choice but to lift you into the air with a strength that was unnatural.
The lady in black effortlessly led you to a room adjacent to the dark workshop, dropping you into a chair. You tried to get up again, but a firm hand on your shoulder prevented you from doing so.
Weary, you lowered your head, the cut on your cheek beginning to sting. Donna stepped away when she was sure you wouldn't try to flee, opening a small cabinet on the wall as you watched.
“Please... let me go,” you sobbed, feeling the desperation speak for itself. “Please, Don... Lady Beneviento...”
She didn't respond. She turned around, holding a few jars and bandages, sitting in front of you. Frightened, you sensed a new round of torture.
“Don't do this, you don't have to do this...” you sobbed again, grabbing her wrists before they moved towards your face. “No, please...” you sighed, seeing in the motionless lady an opportunity to fight. “Don't touch me, don't touch me!” you screamed, frantically, moving your hands as hers approached your face again.
In one of your desperate gestures, you grabbed something, a black cloth that had been left in your hand; the black veil. Shocked by what you had done, you looked at the lady, discovering a truly beautiful woman, with a deformity on her face that was far from the small scar in the photograph.
Her single eye widened in surprise, and her expression grew cold, turning dangerous.
“Oh my God... I'm sorry,” you said, lowering your gaze, squeezing your eyes shut to withstand the blow you were sure to receive. Nothing happened.
Donna snatched the black cloth from your hands, glancing at it briefly, then back at you and finally deciding to leave the veil on the table.
“What... What happened to you?” you asked, moved by her appearance, by a beauty that seemed impossible to you.
The woman kept her gaze on you, but said nothing. She quickly brought her hands to your face again, bringing you back to the harsh reality.
“Don't hurt me! Don't hurt me!” you begged, shrieking, resisting her advances.
A cool sensation and a slight stinging settled on your wounded cheek. Fearfully, you opened your eyes, discovering that her hand was on your skin, alcohol and a cotton ball were cleaning your wound.
“What...?” you murmured, confused, seeing that this strange lady was healing you, looking intently at your wound while the cotton ball soaked with your blood. “Ouch...” you moaned at the stinging, causing her hand to retreat.
Her mysterious gaze rested on yours briefly before she brought the cotton closer again, her movements gentler.
“Why are you doing this?” you asked, sobbing, feeling a strange relief in your wound. “Why are you healing me?”
Donna didn't respond; she continued with her meticulous work, applying disinfectant, studying each of the blows the blonde witch gave you. She spread cream on her hands and carefully rubbed the bruises on your wrists while you, paralyzed, could do nothing but watch.
“Why aren't you talking to me?” you asked, pulling her back from her strange task, making her look at you briefly. “Talk to me!” you squealed demandingly, pulling your wrists away from her touch. “Fucking hell, say something!”
She gave you a dark look, but grabbed your hands again, applying more cream to them, ignoring your words.
“Shit...” you protested, shaking your head, wondering what you could do to get a word out of her mouth, an explanation, a reason for everything that was happening. “Don't you speak my language? You're Italian, aren't you?” you said, knowing you were walking a tightrope.
The woman stopped, but silence was still her answer.
“Fuck... P-Parli l’italiano?” you stammered clumsily, without causing the slightest reaction from the brunette, who seemed to be staring at your hands. “Aiutami, per... per favore...”
The woman looked up, removing one of her hands from your wounds, running a strange caress over your face. For a moment you thought you saw a smile, a change in her expression, but it was fleeting, too short.
“This isn't fair,” you sobbed, unable to get a response. “I shouldn't be here, I... Ah...” you hissed in pain as she placed a small bandage on your cheek, securing it tightly to your skin.
She opened her mouth, even if it was only for a brief moment, but no words came out. She simply rose from the chair with a discreet sigh, picking up her veil and putting it back on, ready to leave you alone.
Without fully understanding what had just happened, you dissolved into tears, in the confusion surrounding that new life, that horrible new life.
Unfortunately, that wasn't the last time Miranda went to that house. Like a sinister routine, the torture took place in that old workshop, and then, yes, then that lady in black, that silent, strange woman, treated your wounds.
Torture, affection, care... a spiral of pain and comfort repeated itself for several days. You could think whatever you wanted, but deep down you saw something different in Donna, something different in that woman who, little by little, stopped wearing the black veil, allowing you to study her features.
Your desire to escape was still intense, but doing stupid things wouldn't improve your situation. Somehow, that woman felt a certain... affection for you, a certain pity. Maybe you needed a different strategy.
“Why dolls?” you asked, wandering through the workshop while the lady painted a porcelain face. It was a bad idea, but you had to try.
During your stay in the basement, you had learned a little more about her, a little more about the lady in black. Apparently, she wasn't right in the head, suffering from an illness she inherited from her family. She was a shy girl who only spoke through her doll.
Your investigation came to an abrupt halt a year too far in the past, when, apparently, Mother Miranda took pity on her soul after the death of her family.
Something had happened; something had caused that woman to retain her youth after all those years. She couldn't be that old, she simply couldn't, just as her doll Angie couldn't move on her own. You were convinced; Mother Miranda had a lot to do with it.
“Y-Your father made dolls, didn't he?” you insisted upon hearing her silence again, leaning a closer to the lady, who paused for a moment. “I-It's a strange job. You don't see many porcelain dolls anymore.”
Donna didn't respond, but you were used to it. You sighed, shaking your head and picking up a finished doll, observing every detail, but still glancing sideways at the lady in black.
“It's beautiful,” you said with a natural smile, combing the toy's hair. “You're good”
“Basta,” a hoarse voice made you put the doll back. It wasn't the irreverent Angie speaking, it was that husky voice you heard on your first night in that house. “I know what you're trying to do.”
“Donna?” you asked surprised. She had spoken. “Oh, so you can talk,” you said in a lower voice, pulling away slightly when her eye met yours.
“Mother Miranda warned me,” the lady whispered, putting that porcelain head aside and crossing her arms. “She warned me that you would try to get along with me, that you would try to earn my sympathy.”
“I didn't...” you said, knowing that she understood your attitude, that she wasn't as easy to fool as you thought. “Well, so what if I do? I've been in this house for two weeks, trapped, being tortured.”
“That's because you want to,” Donna murmured, making you raise your eyebrows.
“Because I want to? That's a good one,” you said incredulously, crossing your arms. “You kidnapped me.”
“I didn't kidnap you,” she said, slowly standing up, making you regret your words.
“You're keeping me here,” you challenged, your voice nervous but strangely confident.
“I follow Mother Miranda's orders,” she stated, blinking erratically and sitting back down, sighing.
“Of course, you always follow Mother Miranda's orders,” you whispered, unfortunately loud enough for her to hear. “What the hell do you owe that horrible woman?”
“Don't you dare talk about Mother Miranda like that!” Donna shrieked, furious, clenching her fists on either side of her hips. “She saved me, she saved us all!”
“She did that to you, didn't she?” you said confidently, pointing at the deformity of her face.
“You...” the lady hissed, looking at you darkly. “You don't know anything, stupida,” she snarled, looking away. “Everything changed. I changed for her, for the Gods. It doesn't surprise me that an outsider like you doesn't understand.”
You were about to say something, but decided to keep quiet, decided to suppress the curiosity her words stirred in you.
“Do your siblings also obey her that way?” you asked, certain you were beginning to understand how that village worked, the Four Lords, the Black Gods…
“Mm,” Donna murmured disinterestedly, returning her attention to painting that empty face. “(Y/N)...” she said in a slightly different tone, with a different expression.
“You know my name,” you sighed, confused, trying not to lose your temper.
She didn't respond; of course she didn't.
“Just tell her what she wants to know,” she finally whispered, subtly signaling to you that the conversation was over.
“I'd love to, but it turns out I don't know anything,” you replied, leaning on the table, watching her hands work delicately. “So I guess things will stay this way, huh? Miranda tortures me, and then asks you to heal me so she can break me again.”
“She didn't ask me to heal you,” Donna said in a dark voice, making you freeze for a moment.
“No...?” you stammered, blinking in confusion. “Then... why are you doing it?”
“I hate seeing something so beautiful damaged...” It was a sigh, a terribly low whisper that came from her lips. It was the last thing she said before silence fell in the workshop.
The lady's words entered your ears, lodged in your mind, in your chest. A strange statement that made you begin to feel a certain... relief, the certainty that this woman wouldn't hurt you.
You didn't understand her elusive reasons, her veiled words, but you embraced your new reality. Miranda would hurt you, but Donna would heal you, take care of you. For someone like you, it was much more than you thought you deserved.
But the torture grew worse and worse. Miranda's screams masked Donna's subtle words of affection, her strange whispers in a different language. The blows and the slaps began to make your skin forget the soft touch of the dollmaker's hands, the relief you felt from her caresses.
Even Miranda, tired of her failure, ordered Donna to torture you, to extract the information in any way possible. But Donna... she didn’t do it.
Everything turned dark, sad, and you didn't know how much longer you could endure.
“I can't take it anymore...” you sobbed as Donna treated your scratches, your new wounds now overlapping the old ones. “This is too much...”
“You can stop this, (Y/N),” the brunette murmured, wiping the blood from your arms. “Just tell her what she wants to hear.”
“I don't know anything!” you shrieked, pulling away from the lady's caresses. “I don't know anything... I... I burned the documents, I didn't read them... but she doesn't believe me... she'll never believe me... If there were any way to know what was in them... But there isn't...” you cried desperately as the lady looked at you stoically, without interrupting you.
“I believe you,” Donna said, making you rise your head. “No one is stupid enough to put up with this on purpose.”
“Do you believe me?” you asked hopefully. She nodded slowly, grabbing your hands, which began to caress each other. “Oh my God... you have to, you have to tell her.”
“I can't,” the lady sighed letting your hand go and shaking her head.
“Fuck... well...” you muttered, starting to lose your temper. “Then just kill me! Kill me now, I can't take it anymore! I can't do this, Donna, I can't... I'm suffering...” you sobbed, letting your body lean into hers, letting her arms wrap around it and your head bury itself in her chest.
“Calmati (Y/N),” she whispered in your ear as you clutched her clothes, desperate, crying like you never had before.
“Yesterday she asked you to torture me,” you said, your voice muffled by the fabric. “She asked you to continue and you didn't... Fuck!” you shrieked, abruptly pulling away, standing up from the chair. “I don't even have a reason to want to get out of here! My parents are dead, my girlfriend left me and... Shit, shit, shit!”
You screamed, kicking chairs, everything within reach.
“My life is so miserable that you're the only person who's ever given me any affection! And look at you, you're crazy, you have living dolls and... Fuck!”
“I'm just trying to take care of you,” the brunette defended herself, hurt by your words. “I know what it's like to be alone, you know? I know it better than anyone, but you... you can still save yourself, just... you just have to tell her...”
“I have nothing to tell her,” you said in a passive tone, slumping into the chair. “If you truly believe me, you know there's no solution, I have no escape,” you commented indifferently, playing with the bandages.
“It's only a matter of time before Miranda realizes. If she doesn't kill me first, then...”
“Then?” the lady asked, with a childish look.
“I'll die,” you declared, shaking your head, noticing how you had accepted your fate. “She'll kill me or, well, she'll set me free, and then... then I'll be alone again.”
“I-It doesn't have to be that way, (Y/N),” Donna intervened, gripping your hands too tightly. “You could... you could stay here, with me. Neither of us would ever be alone again.”
You didn't answer, didn't want to answer. Stay with that woman? It’s crazy...
As time passed, the proposal faded. You didn't speak of it again, nor did she, but somehow, it sounded better and better in your head, even though you refused to think that way.
“I've had enough of you, (Y/N)...” Miranda hissed the next day, in another round of relentless torture, pacing around your semi-conscious body. “I'm getting tired, girl... I'm getting tired of you.”
“T-Then... kill me,” you said, your voice hoarse from crying, from the pain of an excessive beating, from noticing how she'd already lost her patience.
“Mm, you'd like that, wouldn't you?” the witch mocked, putting a foot on your chest. “I'm not going to give you the satisfaction... Speak!” she yelled, stomping hard on your foot, causing your screams to echo around the workshop.
Donna looked away, pretending not to see, not to know what was happening. Your eyes sought her help, that affection she gave you, but it was far away, too far away.
“You impertinent brat,” Miranda murmured, grabbing your arm, forcibly lifting you to your feet. “Very well, I think you can still talk with one less arm,” she threatened, lifting you up and pulling out her golden nails, ready to mutilate you.
“No!” A different scream appeared in the room, and the priestess abruptly stepped back as some arms pushed her away. “Basta! Basta, per favore!”
It was Donna, the lady in black pushing her Goddess away from you. Miranda's face was something that would be difficult to forget.
“Donna,” the witch said, straightening her clothes, approaching the brunette, who bent down to gather you in her arms, cupping your face. “What are you doing? Donna! Cosa fai?”
“D-Don't hurt her anymore, please, don't... don't hurt her,” the brunette sobbed, caressing you softly, letting a tear land on your surprised and weak face.
"Oh, I can't believe it," the blonde laughed, walking toward you, tilting her head. “Don't tell me you've grown fond of her... What were you doing when she asked you to torture her? Cuddles?” she mocked, pouting.
“S-She... (Y/N) doesn't know anything, Mother, she told me,” the Italian woman said, her voice breaking, flustered by her creator's anger. “She doesn't know anything...”
“She doesn't know anything,” she repeated, with a nasty grimace. “Gods, Donna, I can't believe you're stupid enough to...”
“(Y/N), tesoro... please, look at me...” the lady in black whispered, patting your cheeks to keep your eyes from closing. “Perdonami…Perdonami, tesoro…”
“Please, I’m going to throw up,” Miranda sighed, observing the scene and shaking her head, her expression changing. “Have you fallen in love with her, Donna? How predictable…” she murmured afterward, bending down towards you.
Donna pulled you away from her touch, causing the witch to laugh ironically, standing up again.
“Damn… it’s true, isn’t it? That girl doesn’t know anything,” she commented with a nervous gasp. “Then… well, I guess you can have her. But I’m warning you… I don’t want any trouble,” she said in a disgusted tone, fading into a black cloud.
“D-Donna,” you gasped, weakly grasping the pale hand that was caressing you. “Donna…” you sighed, letting your eyes close slowly, succumbing to the darkness.
“No, no! Per favore! (Y/N)!”
You thought you'd never open your eyes again, but you did, slowly, feeling a strange, pleasant comfort.
“Mm...” you murmured, your body aching, discovering an unfamiliar room and a pressure on your hands.
Donna was sitting in a chair across from you, her head buried in the mattress and her hands tightly squeezing you. She was crying, you could feel it. Somehow you remembered how she had saved you, what had happened; you knew Miranda wouldn't come back, thanks to that strange lady in black.
Your hand slipped from hers and traveled to her black hair, stroking it slowly.
“(Y/N),” she gasped, raising her head hurriedly, tightening her grip on your hand. “You're awake.”
“Yes...” you sighed, looking around. “Wow, this bed is much more comfortable than the other one,” you joked, checking your wounds.
She laughed through her tears, sitting on the bed, still looking at you, admiring you.
“It's all over now, (Y/N), she won't hurt you again,” she explained, cupping your face in her hands, making you smile for the first time in a long time.
What happened next surprised you, but it wasn't unpleasant at all. Donna pulled you in, briefly placing her lips on yours in a salty kiss, quick and clumsy, but terribly affectionate.
“You... you saved me, Donna,” you said, ignoring the kiss. “Thank you...”
“I couldn't do anything else,” she replied, signaling to Angie to give you a glass of water. “Drink, you need to hydrate.”
“Yes,” you sighed, looking at her lips, leaning in closer, kissing her again, deepening a kiss of gratitude, with an affection that went far beyond simple affection, although you tried to ignore it.
“I liked that,” Donna said shyly, her cheeks flushed, like a little girl. “S-So that means... you'll stay with me?” she asked impatiently, kissing you quickly again, caressing your free hand as her lips sought to touch yours in a clumsy, inexperienced, but adorable way.
“I can't imagine myself anywhere else but with you, Donna...”
Hi Blusy! I hope you had a fun trip!✈️✨ You deserved a lovely break from all the wonderful writing you do!
This is a tad long, and maybe a bit niche, but I hope it’s alright🌸
What if Reader was Donna’s maid/gardener/servant and didn’t have a standard uniform like Lady D’s maids. During a trip to the castle, Lady D comments on how Reader is always wearing a different dress and expresses to Donna why she enjoys the uniforms and the importance of them somehow. And how she’s sure Reader would look much better in uniform. Donna doesn’t really get the appeal and doesn’t find it necessary until later, reader brings it up and says she gets the appeal from the maid’s perspective. Donna asks her to elaborate and finds that Reader may really enjoy the idea of being dressed up and bossed around by Donna. Donna thinks about this for some time before deciding she’s going to make Reader a uniform, but a different color than that of Lady D’s maids to show that Reader is Donna’s. As she makes it, she slowly starts to realize that she may understand why Lady D likes maids in uniform, and starts to imagine what all she would do if she saw Reader in uniform. She eventually surprises Reader with the uniform by leaving it in her room with a note.
Gay smut ensues with maybe Donna adding a few pieces to the uniform that she had asked Karl to help make (like a special collar with the Beneviento Crest on it or something like that).
Yesss!!!! Sorry about the delay and thank you for your request and your kind words!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!!! :)))))
Dress like a maid, act like a doll
Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem, Maid! Reader
Warnings: Smut, Minors DNI, fluff, Donna being Donna, Donna's POV
Word count: 7,923
Summary: I can't tell her what I feel, maybe a uniform would work?
N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open!!! I'm waiting yours!!!I love you all!!!
“Oh, good morning, my lady,” (Y/N), my maid, said with a kind smile.
Slowly, pleased by that perfectly prepared breakfast, I sat at the table, ignoring her presence as much as I could, until I had no choice but to feel how close she was to me.
“Shall I get you some coffee, my lady?” she asked, approaching slowly.
“Mm,” I responded vaguely, without noticing every detail her dress revealed to me.
She smiled, leaning over to pick up the coffee pot and pour some liquid into the cup. It was impossible not to look, not to notice that her curves were close, that her cleavage could almost touch my deformed face.
Nervous, but trying to fake it, I slowly picked up the cup, hiding my flushed face behind the coffee smoke.
“Do you like it, my lady?” (Y/N) asked, breaking my concentration, one that kept my only eye off her visibly exposed breasts.
The words refused to leave my mouth, much more than usual. It was probably a gentle chuckle, yes; a gentle chuckle came from her lips.
“Cosa?” I asked nervously, tearing my eye away from her cleavage, focusing on anything but her. “What do you mean?” I insisted, praying to the Gods she hadn't noticed.
“The coffee,” she whispered, pulling away slowly enough to let me take one last look; it almost seemed like she was doing it on purpose. “Do you like the coffee, my lady?”
“Oh,” I sighed awkwardly, trying to compose myself, trying not to look into those eyes that seemed to be stalking me. “Yes, it's good.”
“I'm glad to hear it,” she whispered, slurring her words, placing herself at a safe distance, but without looking away.
I nodded, curiously observing all the details of the breakfast (Y/N) had prepared.
“Where did you get these croissants? I don't remember having them in the kitchen,” I commented, hoping the silence would disappear, along with the temptation.
“You are very perceptive, my lady,” the maid said kindly, placing the hands behind her, a certain pride in her words. “Actually, I got up earlier this morning and went to the bakery to get them.”
“Mm?” I murmured, frowning.
“Oh, I know you don’t like me leaving without permission, but I wanted to surprise you, my lady,” she said quickly, apologizing but still smiling. “I know they’re your favorites.”
“Mm, well,” I murmured, feigning a certain annoyance. I wonder if it really sounded the way I intended… “I suppose I could turn a blind eye this time.”
“You’re very kind, my lady,” she replied, dipping into another subtle bow and smiling contentedly. “Would you like anything else?”
“No, I’m fine, (Y/N), grazie,” I said calmly, taking a sip of coffee.
“Prego,” (Y/N) replied almost in a whisper, making me freeze again.
Confused, I blinked, remembering her voice speaking my native language over and over again, something that would be very difficult to ignore.
“You're too thoughtful,” I commented indifferently, pointing to a chair. “Will you sit with me?”
“Of course, my lady, it's a pleasure, my lady,” she said, nodding profusely, pouring herself a cup of coffee, her gaze fixed on me.
I soon regretted my words. My body was trembling again.
Silence spread between us like an invisible cloak. Her eyes discreetly lifted to mine, as did the corners of her lips.
If I didn't want to lose myself in her gaze, I would have to do something, say something to distract myself from her cleavage, her delicate hands, her presence...
“(Y/N), I think we've already talked about that,” I commented in a serious voice, slowly placing the cup back on the table. “You can call me Donna.”
“I know,” she replied almost immediately, without a hint of nerves in her voice. “But I like it that way, unless it disturbs you.”
“No,” I said tersely, shaking my head. “It doesn’t, but, y-you know it's not necessary.”
She smiled again, a dark shadow in her gaze, in her eyes, as if she were somehow playing with me; sometimes it seemed like she enjoyed unnerving me.
I didn't want to think that my own maid had any kind of power over me.
“I like to be professional, my lady,” she murmured, looking at me through her cup; I even thought she winked. I don't know, maybe my mind was playing tricks on me.
“Va bene,” I said, hiding my blush behind my coffee again.
Fortunately, that playful play in her gaze stopped, or I simply stopped noticing, I can't say.
“Thank you for sharing this time with me, my lady. I should return to my duties,” (Y/N) whispered when finished, standing up and approaching me again, leaning in so I could feast my eye on her cleavage one last time.
I nodded indifferently, fighting with myself not to sink into her flesh, to pretend that the sight of her didn't send lustful impulses through my body.
“If you need something...” (Y/N) murmured, leaning closer, too close to my ear. Her breath warmed my skin, making it vibrate with every syllable. “...you know where I am.”
“Mm,” I said, nervously rising from my chair and smoothing down my dress, pretending her voice hadn't caused a hot shiver to run through me. “I know, (Y/N), thank you.”
“Are you all right, my lady?” she asked, placing a hand on my shoulder.
Was I really that obvious?
“Yes, yes, of course, um... I... should... work on my dolls,” I replied clumsily, cowardly fleeing the dining room before my teeth sank into her skin.
“I hope you have a good morning, my lady,” she said gently, clearing the table.
Her words were barely whispers to me, my palms sweating as I glanced at her one last time. As if somehow sensing my gaze had settled on her, she returned a shy smile.
I never wanted a maid.
My status as a Lord allowed me, according to my siblings, to do whatever I wanted with whomever I wanted, at any time. I never used that power; I wasn't interested in being better than anyone, only in keeping everyone away from me..
No matter how much I refused to accept being part of the authorities of that village, my mission was divine, or so Mother Miranda said. Nothing stopped her, not my illness, nor my desire to leave this world.
The price I paid was a horrible scar on my face, the certainty that I would never be loved, that I would become a monster. She gave me a family, something to live for, control over the thoughts and nightmares of those who once mocked me. I thought that was enough, that my dolls, Angie, and a power I enjoyed using from time to time filled the void in my life.
I was wrong.
The day (Y/N) arrived at my house, I thought of endless ways to torture that girl, who apparently didn't fear the rumors about me. I wanted to make her suffer, punish her for disturbing my solitary and peaceful life, but I couldn't.
Her gaze, her smile... (Y/N) made my powers stop working, making me paralyzed, staring at her through my black veil. She had to insist, but not as much as I would have liked. I would have liked to be stronger.
(Y/N) didn't seem to fear me, didn't tremble at being in the presence of Donna Beneviento, the mad ventriloquist, the mistress of the villagers' nightmares. You could say she was very brave to approach me, or maybe that girl was simply stupid.
Despite my reluctance, I soon grew to like having a maid, a beautiful girl by my side. If she wasn't useful, well, at least I'd have someone to think about on my lonely nights.
But that thought didn't last long. That illusion of using (Y/N) as a pastime, as a work of art to be discreetly contemplated, disappeared over time.
Instead of settling for a glance, a subtle touch of our hands… my body, my heart began to demand something more, something I'd never felt, something I'd never thought I'd feel at all.
Always so close, always with that smile... Every day, every hour, her image appeared in my mind, her eyes looking into mine, I could feel her body so close…
I began to think that the girl was really playing with me, testing me, exploring the limits of my patience with her strange advances. I could have acted, I could have reproached her for her immodesty in dress, or for her approach, but, again, I was unable to do so.
Sometimes I liked to fantasize, to think that there was something real between us; her closeness, her words, her smiles… it was too good to be simply kindness or servitude. Who am I kidding? Of course it was servitude.
“I said the size 7 brush, Angie,” I instructed my faithful companion while trying to distract myself in the workshop.
“Hey!” the doll protested, probably due to the severity of my words. “We're a little tense, aren't we?”
“Taci,” I ordered, snatching the correct brush from her hands, focusing a disembodied head.
Angie sneered with a nasty gesture and slumped down on the table, staring at my work.
“What's wrong, silly Donna? The maid again?” the puppet asked mockingly, leaning close to my ear.
“Shut up,” I demanded, tilting my head and crossing my arms. “What's wrong with the maid?”
“No, Donna...” she hissed, pointing at me. “What's wrong with you?”
“I don't know what you're talking about,” I whispered, ignoring her stupid accusations.
“Oh come on, you obviously like that idiot,” Angie said, standing up and pacing the table. “Donna likes the maid,” she crooned afterward, making me clench my fist.
“Shut your mouth, Angie,” I growled, trying to reach the doll, which was laughing sinisterly. “Besides, what if I like her? (Y/N) is a beautiful girl and I'm not made of stone.”
“Aren't you going to do something?” she asked again, making me grind my teeth, making me want to deactivate her for a while.
“I don't know what you want me to do,” I muttered, shaking my head and looking away. “I have nothing to do, there's nothing to do, you understand? E-Even if I liked her, I don't... I don't know what...”
“Wake up, Donna,” Angie interrupted, hitting me on the head and eliciting another groan from my lips. “This morning she shoved her tits in your face and you just stood there. What does she have to do to make you notice? Spread her legs?”
“Angie...” I hissed, narrowing my eyes. “Ma che volgare...”
“Vulgar? Me?” the doll mocked, slipping out of my grasp. “I know what you want to do to her, so don't accuse me of being vulgar. I can read your mind, Donna...”
“Ugh, I'm going to...” I protested, grabbing the doll by the neck, ready to silence her.
“Hey, let me go! I'll tell (Y/N)!” she squealed. “I'll tell her what you think at night!”
“Cazzo...” I growled, releasing my companion, who laughed triumphantly. “Angie, you...”
“Excuse me, my lady,” (Y/N)'s voice interrupted my threat, making Angie laugh even louder. “Oh, um, it’s a bad time?”
“No,” I said in a cold tone, pretending to return to that lifeless head. “What do you want, (Y/N)? I'm busy.”
“Oh, yes, you're busy,” Angie said, jumping down from the table to escape my reach. “What do you want, maid? Where's the food? We're hungry.”
“It's almost ready, Miss Angie, but we have a problem,” the maid replied, moving a little closer to the table.
“Hm?” I asked, with false disinterest. “What problem?”
“I'm afraid we don't have any more wine, my lady. Should I go buy some?” (Y/N) asked, standing right behind me, leaning her head over my shoulder. “Wow, it's a beautiful doll...”
“Um,” I cleared my throat, noticing the sweat beginning to form on my forehead. I wondered if she possessed that power... “No, don't go; I'll go to the castle this afternoon to get more.”
“May I accompany you?” she asked kindly, finally forcing me to lose myself in her gaze. “I wouldn't want you to have to carry weight, my lady.”
“Oh, um... yes, va bene, you can,” I whispered, averting my gaze from her breasts, which were almost exposed due to her bending over.
“Thank you very much, my lady,” she replied, pulling away with a sigh. “Lunch is almost ready, if you're finished...”
At least during lunch, she stayed away from me. It was a relief, really. Her presence made me increasingly nervous, and I always hated having to agree with Angie. Yes, I liked (Y/N), I was inevitably drawn to her, but that wasn't a good thing.
It wasn't that she was my maid and I her mistress. I could do whatever I wanted with her, if only I had the guts. But, of course, I wasn't capable of moving, of taking a first step, of doing anything but silently admiring her.
Yes, a walk toward the castle might clear my mind.
“Please come in,” said one of the castle maids, to which I nodded slowly, protected, as always when I went out, by my black veil.
“Donna, my dear...” My sister's seductive voice brought me out of my trance. “Oh, you come with company... (Y/N), I suppose.”
“Yes, my lady,” my maid replied, with a kind smile, but somewhat different from the ones she usually gave me. “It's a pleasure, my lady.”
“The pleasure is mine, my dear, believe me,” Alcina said, approaching with a subtle, mischievous laugh. “Irina!” she squealed instantly, causing a young girl to run up, ducking her head.
“Yes, my lady?” her maid asked, her tone excessively formal.
“Show Lady Beneviento's maid to the cellar. Let her choose the wine, and don't try to trick her, okay?” Alcina said, sitting on a sofa and gesturing for me to follow her.
“Of course, my lady, please follow me,” Irina said to (Y/N), who nodded and disappeared through the door with her, but not before giving me a brief smile that made my cheeks blush.
“Tea?” the lady in white offered, to which I nodded, sitting in front of her. “My, my, my, she's quite a beauty...”
I ignored her comment as discreetly as I could. No one flatters my maid. There was no telling how many girls like (Y/N) had passed through Alcina’s bedroom and just thinking about (Y/N)... like this... made my stomach turn.
“Don't you even think about laying a hand on her, Alci, she's my Donna's!” Angie squealed, climbing onto my lap playfully.
“Oh, I'd never dream of it,” Alcina laughed, amused by my doll's attitude. “Although, on the other hand... there's nothing to indicate that she's really yours, my dear.”
“Cosa?” I asked nervously. “What are you insinuating?”
“Nothing, nothing,” the lady in white said, completely relaxed, almost amused by my attitude. “I'm just saying what I see, or rather, what I don't see.”
“Are you laughing at me?!” I protested, abruptly rising from the armchair, my knuckles white due to the pressure.
“I’m not,” she sighed, shaking her head, but still wearing that mocking smile.
“Then speak clearly, Alcina,” I said impatiently.
“Very well,” the vampire sighed, lighting a cigarette. “Look there, Donna,” she indicated, pointing to a corner where a maid was absentmindedly dusting. “What do you see?”
“A maid,” I said with disinterest.
“Mihaela, my dear, come closer,” Alcina ordered the girl, who obeyed immediately. “That's it... here,” she said, standing up and grabbing the girl by the shoulders, placing her very close to me.
“Hello, silly maid!” Angie greeted, making exaggerated gestures toward the young woman, who seemed to tremble with fear at my presence.
“Don't be rude, say hello,” Alcina instructed, causing the maid to bow formally.
“My lady...”
“Mm, well, stay there,” the lady in white instructed, stepping back and looking at me with raised eyebrows. “Let my sister see how beautiful you are.”
“What's this about?” I asked, crossing my arms and shaking my head. That girl was too close. “Yes, she's your maid. What do you mean?”
“How is the beautiful Mihaela different from (Y/N), Donna? Come on, I know you're a smart woman,” my sister challenged, putting a hand on my shoulder and nodding her head at the young maid.
“I know it! I know it!” Angie exclaimed childishly, raising her hand. “Can I, can I?”
“Go ahead, Angie,” Alcina said amused, sitting back down in front of me.
“The clothes!” the doll replied, fidgeting on my lap.
“Bravo, Angie,” the tall woman said, clapping silently. “Exactly, the clothes.”
“Y-You're making me very nervous,” I said, my voice trembling, not knowing exactly what my sister meant. “Could you be clear, please?”
“A uniform, Donna, maids need a uniform,” she finally said, gesturing for the poor, frightened maid to back away. “This isn't the first time I've seen your (Y/N) dressed like an ordinary villager.”
“Uniform?” I asked curiously, glancing sideways at the girl as she walked away. “Schioccezze, what does that matter?”
“Mm,” Alcina murmured, taking a drag from her cigarette and rolling her eyes. “It matters, my dear. How do you expect everyone to see she's your maid if she's dressed however she wants?”
“I don't see what that means,” I commented, shaking my head. “(Y/N) can work without having to wear a ridiculous uniform.”
“Ridiculous? Oh, Donna,” my sister murmured. “The uniform is everything. It's proof that she's your maid, that she belongs to you.”
“I don't need a uniform for that, Alcina, she's mine,” I growled, too uncomfortable with that conversation.
“If you say so,” she sighed, crossing her legs. “It might comfort you to think that way, but... Well, I don't see that she belongs to you.”
“I don't like your tone, Alcina,” I threatened again, trying not to let her notice the trembling in my words. “(Y/N) doesn't need a uniform.”
“She may not need one... but what about you? Imagine: (Y/N) shopping in the village, camouflaged with the rest of the commoners, without any markings to say she's your maid...”
“If anyone dares to touch her...” I hissed, making Angie look at me amused before getting off my lap, probably bored by the conversation.
“How do you think you're going to claim something that's yours if it doesn't even look like it?” My sister asked, leaving me, once again, without answers.
“(Y/N) knows she's mine; she doesn't need a ridiculous outfit to know that,” I stated confidently. “She's my maid, she's loyal to me.”
“Mm, you think so?” she questioned again.
I wanted out of there.
“Of course,” I hissed angrily, shifting uncomfortably in my chair. “What does it matter if she's wearing a dress or a uniform? What really matters is that she obeys me.”
“What really matters, my dear, is what only a uniform can give you,” Alcina said, pointing at me, her gaze fixed on mine.
“Che cos'è?” I asked, playing along.
“Authority, Donna, authority over her,” my sister replied, her tone calm.
“Authority? (Y/N) obeys me; she knows who she is and where she belongs. I have enough authority over her,” I said, pretending I wasn't seriously considering her words.
“Mm...” she murmured mockingly, shaking her head. “Donna, do you know why I have a line of maids waiting in my chambers every night?”
I laughed unpleasantly, ignoring that comment.
“Because you order them to?!” Angie chimed in, approaching with her hands on her hips.
“Because they know they're mine, because they look in the mirror and know they're my maids, that they owe me obedience,” the lady in white replied. “They look in the mirror and don't see an independent girl or just any villager. They see themselves as maids of the castle, part of something big.”
“Bah,” I snorted, looking away.
“And most importantly…” she continued. “…they're happy to do whatever I ask, without question. Some girls like to feel dominated, but I didn't expect you to know that.”
“Do you think I'm stupid?” I protested, getting up from the chair. “That's nonsense, Alcina. A uniform isn't going to change anything.”
“Well...” she sighed, shaking her head, defeated by my stubbornness. “Of course, it's just a suggestion... It's a shame, I'm sure (Y/N) would look lovely in a uniform...”
“Don’t...”
“Sorry,” Irina's voice interrupted, appearing in the room with (YN) and a few bottles of wine.
“Oh, it's about time,” Alcina sighed. “Anyway, I guess this pleasant evening is over.”
I grunted, brushing past my sister with disinterest and approaching (Y/N), who was smiling at me as always, terribly friendly.
“Oh, Donna,” the tall woman said, blocking my way out the door. “Think about it, will you?”
I knew my maid was talking to me on the walk back, but I couldn't listen. Alcina's absurd words echoed in my ears, those horrible insinuations that (Y/N) would never be mine if she didn't dress like it.
Of course, they seemed like nonsense to me, a matter of appearance. I never mentioned this unhealthy attraction I felt for my maid, but of course it's something my sister didn't miss.
Anyway, the idea of a uniform for (Y/N) popped into my head as I walked with her through the snow. A quiet walk, her sweet voice caressing my ears... it's all I needed to feel at ease. What she wore wasn't important at all; she was mine, and she knew it, right? Right?
The days passed peacefully. (Y/N) continued to approach me with her charms, unnerving me. She was a terribly addictive girl; her body was a display of the purest art, the kind of beauty any artist pursued.
It hurt. It hurt to think that I was contemplating her beauty from afar, that this masterpiece was before me, but I couldn't touch it, didn't dare touch it. Growing more and more in love with the girl, I began to back away, before my body, before my actions, caused me to make a mistake.
If (Y/N) was just being nice... what would happen if I dared to kiss her? Would she run away? Would she say I was a monster? Was there even the slightest chance that her lips would reciprocate?
No, there was nothing I could do. I was condemned to admire her like a spectator, to have her body so close, her whispers so close to my ear, and at the same time feel the cold between us like an invisible barrier.
It affected me too much; I was completely losing my mind, and crises and nightmares replaced the pleasant dreams with (Y/N). Perhaps isolating myself would help me forget the beauty that accompanied me day and night.
“Excuse me, my lady,” (Y/N) interrupted me, as I tried to get away from her. “You didn't come up for tea.”
“Mm, I didn't feel like it,” I said without looking at her, without scanning her body, but with my hands beginning to tremble.
“Well, I bring you some,” she said, entering the workshop and leaving a small tray beside me, her breasts brushing painfully against me. Could I have imagined it?
“Um, grazie, (Y/N),” I murmured, ignoring the warmth of my body. “You may leave now.”
“Wouldn't you like some company, my lady? I've finished my chores,” the maid offered, leaning beside me, observing my work in a small dress.
“No,” I shook my head, withdrawing from her scent, her perfume. “Go.”
“As you wish, my lady,” she said gently, turning away from me and walking toward the exit. The movement of her hips was hypnotic, irresistible. “Oh, that's right, Lady Dimitrescu called.”
I raised my head, stopping my sewing, knowing I had to listen to her for a few more painful seconds.
“What did she want?”
“Nothing important, just checking on you,” (Y/N) replied, blinking seductively, or so it seemed to me. “She asked me a strange question.”
“A-A strange question?” I asked, turning to face the girl, losing myself in her curves once more.
“Yes, she wanted to know if I already had a uniform. Strange, isn't it?” she commented, making my blood run cold and a blush spread across my face.
“Cavolo...” I wailed, closing my eye and turning away, slamming a fist on the table. “D-Don't listen to her.”
“Oh, okay,” (Y/N) said, raising her eyebrows and playing with her ankle on the floor. “Can I say something, my lady?”
“Mm,” I nodded, returning to my sewing, pretending I didn't have a terrible urge to strangle my sister. “Go ahead.”
“I don't think it's a bad idea to put on a uniform,” she commented, approaching casually, her hips swaying more exaggeratedly.
“Nonsense, you don't need a uniform, (Y/N),” I said, shaking my head and ignoring her proximity.
“Maybe,” she said, leaning on the table, completely distracting me. “ But I really wouldn't mind having one.”
“Perché?” I asked, setting aside that doll dress. “Don't you like dressing up in your own clothes?”
“I like it, but...” (Y/N) replied, reaching for one of the finished dolls, playing with its clothes. “Honestly... I feel a little weird.”
“I don't understand you. Would you please explain yourself, maid?” I asked impatiently, crossing my arms as she smiled discreetly, arranging the dress on the doll.
“Look at these dolls, my lady,” my maid said in a different tone, tearing her tempting gaze away from mine. “Their dresses are elegant... I wouldn't mind dressing the same way,” she commented, leaning closer to my ear, whispering in a softer, sweeter voice.
“What? Do you want to be a doll?” I asked nervously, shaking my head and snatching the object from her hand, running a finger along the seams.
“Mm, would you like me to be, my lady?” It was a different whisper, her honeyed tone penetrating my head like a dagger, quickening my pulse. “My lady, you're trembling.”
“No,” I denied, cowardly backing away from her breath, clutching the doll tightly in my hands. “Io…”
“I didn't mean to make you nervous, my lady,” (Y/N) apologized, stepping back, letting me breathe. “But I would really feel good in a uniform, one made by you, similar to these beautiful dresses,” she commented distractedly, snatching the doll from me with a gentle gesture. “Mm, yes, it would be an honor to dress up like one of your dolls.”
“You don't need a uniform,” I said, self-assured, confident, but not really knowing if it was what I wanted, what I desired.
“I'd have to decide that by myself, don’t you think, my lady?” she joked with a mocking laugh, handing the doll back to me. “I'm sure that way you wouldn't be afraid to ask me whatever you want, to control me like one of your dolls.”
“Um...” I stammered, confused, speechless, with nothing to calm my nerves as (Y/N) raised her finger to my chin, intimidating me with her gaze, with her cleavage, with her perfection. “I… I… I’ll think about it, (Y/N), now, now leave me alone, will you?” I finally said, pushing her away, earning a satisfied smile and a wink from the maid, who retreated with a petulant stride.
“As you wish, my lady,” she sighed seductively, biting her lip, making me even more nervous, on the verge of exploding.
“Call me Donna!” I squealed, not knowing how to react to such brazen behavior, which, incidentally, made me love her even more.
A soft giggle was her response, along with the clicking of her heels down the basement hallway.
What had just happened? Had I dreamed it? Was it really a dream?
Dream or not, the idea was clear enough. It could have been my sick mind that had imagined it, but even so my hands acted on their own, opening the drawers for some old pattern magazines, thus beginning the search for the perfect uniform.
Trying to ignore my maid's impudence, I began to work on the fabric, slowly forming a dress very similar to my dolls', but with a special touch. Naturally, I wasn't going to make a dress for a cheesy doll but a maid's uniform, one for (Y/N), just for her.
Images of Alcina's maids flashed through my head day and night, giving me little details to add. The grayish hue, identical to my dolls, would also serve to differentiate (Y/N) from the little whores Alcina had at her service.
No, (Y/N) wasn't a cheap whore who would be charmed by a velvety voice and empty promises. She wasn't Alcina's maid, she was my maid, mine, and only mine, and that's how she had to look.
The work obsessed me, intensifying my quest for perfection as I imagined that fabric falling over her body, adapting harmoniously to her breasts, dancing in time with her legs.
I looked at the result again and again, but it still wasn't enough. She was already mine, with that dress she would be unmistakably mine, but something was missing, something Alcina's stupid maids didn't have.
“Just do it and shut up,” I said, hanging up the phone with a grunt. “Cretino...” I insulted, after a call to my brother Karl.
No maid's uniform would be worthy of (Y/N) without a few small metal ornaments, a collar fitted around her neck, one with my family crest, one that, even without the rest of the uniform, would remind her that she was still mine.
Unfortunately, I had to ask my stupid brother for the favor, but I really didn't care; it was for (Y/N), it was to make her mine.
The new dress lay on a mannequin; her new clothes, the only ones she would be allowed to wear. I sighed as I shook my head, banishing from my mind the images of that uniform slipping off her shoulders and falling to her ankles.
The similarities to the attire of Alcina's maids were evident, but not so obvious as to be seen with the naked eye. It was my best work, of course. Reflecting, those obedient and submissive girls came to mind. Something ignited inside me.
My sister's words returned to my ears, unspoken; that desire for authority, for domination through a simple dress, began to make sense to me. Those girls were so obedient… They did everything my sister asked of them, no matter what it was, without question.
It was impossible to believe it was all because of a stupid uniform, but the idea wouldn't leave my mind. Those young bodies framed by an apron and a short dress, those girls' formal smiles, their legs adorned by the fabric that covered them.
I thought it was silly, but it was getting easier and easier to understand why Alcina would give them a uniform, and that led me to fantasize.
I imagined (Y/N) wearing that dress, flaunting her necklace around the village, causing comments from those stupid commoners. It wasn't just clothing; it was a statement, it was the reality I lived in, a subtle and authoritative way of saying that (Y/N) was mine.
But... what would happen at home? Would anything change? (Y/N) said she would like to be like my dolls, that she would like me to give her the identity she thought she lacked. I wondered what kind of things I could do with that newfound authority.
I could kiss her without asking, I could caress her face whenever I felt like it, her body would be mine, inside and out. Those visions of (Y/N) naked, her uniform on the floor, my hands running through her wetness, my words commanding her to bend over, her legs to open just for me… They were everything I could ask for.
A warm thought transmitted itself to my body, causing the wetness of my arousal to spread between my legs. Yes, she would be mine, my maid, my doll… Dressed as such, she would obey me, do whatever I wanted, and I wouldn't have to worry about being rejected.
The uniform wasn't just a dress; it was a silent contract, a bond that gave me power over her, authority.
My caresses between my thighs sent shivers down my spine. I wished those warm hands were hers...
I never masturbated outside of bed, never pleasured myself outside the safety of the sheets, but I couldn't stop thinking, couldn't stop imagining she was the one entering me, and that I had ordered her to.
Luckily, that wouldn't last forever. I just had to wait a little longer, and that fantasy would become reality.
Soon, I received the order I had given my brother: a beautiful gold necklace with the crest hanging from it, ready to be placed around (Y/N)'s neck and never leave it.
I hope you like it, my maid. You'll be like one of my dolls.
I wrote that note in my best handwriting and left it on top of the uniform, on her bed. Of course, it wasn't difficult to get rid of (Y/N); all I had to do was send her to the village. I was dying to see her in it, to know how she would react, and how I would.
“Phew, I'm here, Donna,” (Y/N) said, coming through the door as I came down the stairs, feigning indifference, smiling satisfied with a job well done. “Mm, it still feels strange to call you by your name, my lady.”
I smiled daringly, arranging her hair in a way I'd never dared to do before. Did a stupid uniform really have that effect on me?
“I like the way my name sounds on your lips,” I whispered suggestively, gathering the things I'd asked her to bring. “I'll take care of this, (Y/N). You should go up to your room, you have a surprise.”
“A surprise?” the girl asked, smiling, but frowning. “Mm, I can't wait...” she whispered, winking at me and slowly ascending the stairs.
“Silly Donna...” my doll Angie whispered, shaking her head. “Do you think a dress will make her want to...?”
“Angie, get lost,” I said, pointing at the elevator hallway. “It's none of your business.”
“Ugh, you're so silly,” the doll protested. “If you wanted another doll, you should have made one by yourself.”
“Fuori!” I shrieked furiously, eaten away by nerves, by the anticipation of what would surely be a beautiful sight.
The wait seemed endless. My feet paced aimlessly down the hall, my head thinking too many things at once.
Would it work? Would she like her uniform? Did I scare her?
A slew of questions threatened to send me into a terrible meltdown, but it couldn't be, not right then. My madness would have to wait.
One step, two... (Y/N)'s steps kept me from completely losing my temper, a beautiful and elegant vision of her legs slowly descending, the new dress dancing with her movements.
“I love it,” she commented before she stepped completely down, leaving me speechless. “It's beautiful, Donna.”
I opened my mouth, but not a word came out. My eyes studied every shape of her body wrapped in that uniform, the way her silhouette slenderized just the way I wanted. It was perfect, simply perfect.
“Let's see...” (Y/N) commented amusedly, spinning around, making the fabric dance elegantly as she laughed, seemingly excited. “Mm, I love it, Donna, thank you very much.”
“Mm,” I pretended, approaching her arranging the clothes correctly, a pathetic excuse to feel the warmth of her body through the gray fabric of the dress, a sensation I wasn't ready for.
“Now I really look like a maid,” the girl commented amusedly, letting my hands run over her body just the way I wanted, letting my fingers undo one of the buttons on her neckline, letting me admire her secluded breasts. “Oh, I should have known you'd like it better like this,” she purred, a blush beginning to rise on her cheeks.
“Certo,” I sighed, recognizing my weakness for her curves, for that perfect body. “There's still something missing, (Y/N).”
“Oh, really?” she asked, in a childish voice, almost pouting. “I can't wait.”
Clearing my throat, I reached for the necklace Heisenberg made, unable to help but smile before putting the icing on that cake. Slowly, I approached again, running my hands over the soft, addictive skin of her neck, letting the locket fall onto her chest.
She wasn't looking at it; she was looking at me, her brand new owner.
“I have no words... it's beautiful, Donna,” she finally said, running her fingers over the locket with a mischievous smile. “You’re too kind for a simple maid like me.”
“You may be a maid, (Y/N), but you're anything but simple,” I teased, placing my hands in front of me, admiring my masterpiece. “You look beautiful.”
“I'll have to take your word for it,” she said playfully, admiring her uniform.
“You must, (Y/N),” I said in a serious tone, tilting my head, studying the outfit, wondering what my next move would be. “I hope you like the color.”
“It's definitely the color of your dolls,” (Y/N) affirmed, a growing darkness in her eyes. “I look like them, don't you think?”
“It's what you wanted, wasn't it?” I said, feeling much more confident for some odd reason. “To look like a doll.”
“Well, maybe that would stop you from being so shy around me, wouldn't it, Donna?” she whispered, leaning in close, her words caressing my ears. “If... well, if I had to look like a doll to get any attention from you... I'm fine with that.”
“You're always so bold, (Y/N),” I whispered in her ear, returning a bit of her seductive strategy, feeling like I could do it, realizing that I could. “But you can't be anymore, (Y/N), now you're completely mine.”
“Mm,” (Y/N) murmured, pouting again, blinking rapidly. “Did you need a uniform to know that? Or perhaps it’s just to tell it to yourself?” she challenged me, that stupid maid was challenging me.
“Careful, maid,” I whispered in a dangerous tone, approaching menacingly. “You're walking on dangerous ground.”
“You're right, I would never dare challenge you, my lady,” she said playfully, briefly glancing at my lips, making my palms start to sweat.
“Don't call me that, you know I hate it,” I replied, grabbing that girl by the arm, digging my nails into her skin. “Now you'll respect me, (Y/N).”
“Fine, Donna,” she whispered, emphasizing my name mockingly. “Well… is there anything this humble maid can do for you?”
“Let me think…” I said, confused, going blank for a moment.
I thought of Alcina, of those silly girls lining up outside her chambers. Was it really that simple? I had my own maid, with her unique uniform, my authority beyond question. There was only one last check.
“I want you to kiss me, (Y/N),” I said, as calmly as I could.
I swore I saw the corners of her mouth lift.
She didn't respond; she simply leaned closer, planting a fiery kiss on my cheek, her lips lingering on me for a few glorious seconds.
“Did I do it right?” she asked with a sinister smile, slowly pulling away. “Oh, you seem disappointed, Donna.”
“I want you to kiss me, (Y/N),” I demanded, grabbing her arm again, feeling a wave of something different, an illusion of power, of... authority. “Here,” I said, pointing to my lips.
The wetness and warmth of her kiss almost made me surrender, confess the love I felt for her. Her lips warmed my body; her tongue caressed mine cautiously, but with a different touch, as if she knew exactly what I wanted, and how I wanted it.
“Mm...” the girl murmured, licking her lips after ending the kiss, leaving me on the verge of deepening it. “Do you want something else, Donna?”
“Did I tell you to stop?” I asked, annoyed, flustered by her silent defiance.
“You haven't told me anything,” (Y/N) replied, looking away. “I'm just a silly little maid... I need to be told what to do,” she whispered temptingly, leaning toward me. “Or rather… I need, I want you to tell me what to do, Donna.”
“Are you so stupid that you don’t know?” I shook my head, annoyed because she kept defying me. “I want to take you.”
“I’m just your maid, your doll… dolls don’t do anything they’re not told to, right?” (Y/N) said, walking beside me, leaning on the dining room table.
I quickened my steps, pushing that impertinent maid against the table, grabbing her hair and seeing how there was no terror in her eyes, but a different kind of desire.
“Mm, have I been bad, Donna? Tell me what I can do to fix it. I want to be your maid, your good doll,” she whispered with a look of false sadness.
I looked down at her body adorned in the uniform, at the crest resting on her chest. A smile formed on my face as my hands released her hair and moved down to her cleavage.
“First off, maid, I want to get a better look at you,” I said confidently, undoing two more buttons on her dress. “I want to touch you,” I added, sinking my hands into the tender skin of her breasts, squeezing them until her sweet mouth emitted a moan.
“Do you do this to your dolls, Donna?” she commented, laughing at my clumsy exploration.
“Silenzio,” I protested, pulling away and turning her body, pushing it against the table. “I want you to shut that stupid mouth of yours.”
“Your wish is my command,” she whispered, moving her hips provocatively as my hands ran over her dress, slowly pushing it up, feeling every inch of her skin, skin that already belonged to me.
“Mm, cheeky girl...” I commented, amused, noticing the dampness in my fingers, the lack of underwear that was obviously intentional. “Good maids wear panties, (Y/N)… You’re so daring…”
“I didn’t know when you would dare to touch me, Donna,” she replied, shuddering at my touch of her folds as I pushed her belly against the table. “I’ve wanted you for so long…”
“Shut up…” I demanded, continuing my work, aroused by the sight of her dress lifted, the glistening wetness I imagined seeping into the gray fabric. “Sei bagnata… did you expect this?”
“Yes…” (Y/N) gasped as my finger began to play with her clit, as the fantasy of feeling her began to become reality. “Gods, my lady.”
“Not my lady!” I cried pulling back her hair as the circles I made in her wetness intensified. “I’m Donna to you, stupid maid.”
“Am I your maid now, your doll? What do you want me to be?” she asked in that mocking tone again, earning another tug of her hair. “I'll be whatever you ask.”
“Like a proper maid, right? I don't know what I find more attractive, (Y/N), considering you a doll or a maid, what do you say?” I purred in her ear, leaning over her, moving my hips to find some friction as my fingers entered her without warning.
“Ah!” she moaned loudly, kicking her legs as my fingers slid between her walls, giving her no time to accept me, to love me, to want me inside her. “I'll be whatever you ask, Donna, whatever... Ah, yes!”
“Funny how a simple uniform makes me want you so much, (Y/N),” I commented, curling my fingers, following the rhythm of her twitching hips, the sound of her moans sending shivers through my body. “W-Well… Io…” I paused for a moment, feeling rationality returning to my mind. “Actually I-I’ve always wanted you.”
“I know,” (Y/N) replied with a mocking laugh, making me frown and my movements intensify, causing her words to be drowned out by new moans. “You are a very shy woman…”
“Shut up!” I exclaimed furiously, not wanting to agree with her.
“But I like you like this, Donna… Oh, Gods… I’m close…” the maid moaned, closing her eyes, growing increasingly agitated.
“Oh, is my little doll close? Now is the time you must pay for your audacity, (Y/N),” I said, laughing darkly, withdrawing my glistening fingers from her body. “Apologize, maid.”
“What? Oh, Donna, please, I was just about to... please, Donna,” she begged, grinding her hips against mine, desperately searching for that lost contact.
“I'll only do this if you shut your big mouth and let me do what I want... you're mine!” I screamed furiously, wanting to finish what I'd started, not wanting her to recognize the love I felt for her, which I wasn't able to express without that stupid uniform.
“Okay, I'll keep quiet... but, but... please, per favore, amore mio...” she whispered desperately, causing my eye to open wide, my hands to move on their own, acceding to her wishes.
“So... so daring...” I growled, thrusting into her again, curling my fingers inside her, causing her entire body to tremble with pleasure with an exaggerated shriek. “Stupid maid... turn around,” I ordered, spinning her around, not giving her time to recover from her orgasm.
She nodded with a triumphant smile, sweat running down her forehead and her skin flushed with pleasure.
Without saying anything, I removed the last button of her uniform, exposing her breasts above her dress, reveling myself in that beautiful, hypnotic sight.
“Here,” I whispered, pulling at her arm so that I was now the one leaning on the table. “Get on your knees, maid.”
She licked her lips, lowering herself slowly, making her breasts move as her hands caressed the black fabric of my dress.
“What should I do, Donna? Ask me for anything you want...” she whispered, looking up at me from the floor, caressing my legs under my dress, knowing what I wanted, but forcing me to say it.
“You know what you must do, (Y/N), please me with your mouth, serve me like the good doll you are,” I said, caressing her chin, blinded by lust, by the desire I had imagined so many times during my lonely nights. “Use your mouth for more than just nonsense.”
“Whatever you command, my lady,” the girl mocked, pulling down my underwear, squeezing herself inside my dress to reach her goal.
When her mouth made contact with my body, I stumbled, leaning on the table to maintain my balance. Her tongue was so skillful, sucking me with such precision that I thought I was living a fantasy. The moisture running down my legs covered her face as I caressed it, guiding her where I wanted, how I wanted.
Her kisses, her tongue, her fingers inside me… it was a collection of unforgettable sensations, unquestionable silent commands that made me reflect before giving in to the pleasure.
Had the uniform really had something to do with it? Was that the authority Alcina spoke of?
My orgasm coursed through her pleased mouth, making it vibrate in my folds while my moans echoed off the mansion walls. I had gotten what I wanted, but… was it enough? My heart said it wasn’t.
“Get up,” I whispered, pulling her wrist to put her to her feet, redoing the buttons of her uniform. “Tell me something, (Y/N), did you do this because you wanted to?”
“Mm?” she murmured, blinking in confusion, straightening her clothes, licking the taste of me off her lips. “Do you think I'd do it if I didn't want to?”
“I don't know, you're my maid, my little doll,” I said lost, erratically stroking her cheek.
“Only if you want me to be, Donna... You know, I'm glad the uniform gave you so much confidence. I think if it didn't, I'd have gone crazy trying to show how much I love you.”
Can you do one where reader is a 5th lord and also used to be in a relationship with Donna. Their breakup was pretty nasty between them and the tension is always thick at meetings or anywhere else but reader is still in love with Donna. One night reader decides to go Donna to talk but then it turns to makeup/hate sex and they decide to get back together.
P.a thank you for your Donna stories I love your writing so much!
Yesss!!! I'm sorry about the delay!! Thank you for your request and your support!!! I hope you like it, anon! Sorry about the language mistakes!!!! :)))))
I can't hate you
Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem, 5th Lord! Reader
Warnings: Smut, Minors DNI, fluff, angst, Donna being Donna
Word count: 6,890
Summary: You knew she hated you, but you still love her...
N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open!!! I'm waiting yours!!!I love you all!!!
“Damn,” you lamented, pushing away from the table and sinking onto the couch. “Great, a meeting is just what I needed.”
The afternoon light streaming through the window was sad, or so it seemed. Everything had seemed sad and empty since that day.
Living in that village couldn't be synonymous with joy and jubilation, but at least you saw some meaning, some harmony in the snow, in the black birds crossing the cloudy sky, in your own existence.
You never asked for mercy, pity, or salvation from the monotonous life you lived. Your family left a long time ago, leaving only the memory of their past. They were nobles, yes, charged with protecting and caring for the forest that kept the village a secret from prying eyes.
You'd heard stories of nobility, of a renowned family name associated with you, but you always knew that it wouldn't guarantee you a better life, at least not in a place like that. Of all that was once your family, only you remained, isolated in what was once a mansion, and now only partially habitable ruins.
You were happy; you didn't need help, but still, you got it.
Mother Miranda saw something in you, something she herself had overlooked for the past 20 years, something that, according to the witch, the Gods whispered to her. Well, you weren't particularly happy in your solitude, and the winter cold would eventually kill you.
How could you have refused the hand she offered you?
As in many fictional stories, it wasn't unconditional help; it was a pact with the devil, a silent agreement that would take much more than your soul. You remembered the pain, the sensation of watching life slip through your fingers… You remembered the Cadou writhing before entering your body.
Then, the light came.
As if it were a religious scripture, you rose from that old stretcher, disoriented but radiant, much stronger, different…
(Y/N) had died, but from her ashes Lady (Y/N) was reborn, a new servant of Mother Miranda, the Fifth Lord. Your family's noble past influenced the priestess's decision to include you in the village's decisions, to add a picture of you to the altar of the old chapel.
If it hadn't been for your family's past… what would have become of you?
You preferred not to answer that question.
A gift from the Gods, or so Miranda called the subtle changes in your appearance. Yes, you would remain 20 for the rest of your life, paying a price: marks on your face that resembled the roots of a tree, which you would make sense of soon after.
Around your dilapidated home, flowers began to bloom and the orchard began to bear fruit long before its time as well as the trees seemed to move, to twist as you passed by them. That was the power your new status gave you, the price of eternal life, and the tireless duty to protect the village and maintain the loyalty to Mother Miranda.
The Fifth Lord, the youngest of all, but not the strangest. Unlike your new “siblings”, you decided to use your gifts to help the poor villagers you had once been part of. Destroyed crops, infertile lands, vermin that fed on the labor of others... These began to be your responsibilities, and thanks to your skill, you managed to make the local inhabitants thank the Gods and Mother Miranda for their survival.
You tried, for a weak moment, to relate to your old friends like before, but nothing was the same, nor would it ever be. The excessive respect and fear towards you were unbearable, and you soon understood that your place in that world of darkness had changed irrevocably.
Of course, the rest of the Lords accepted you without question, teaching you your duties, accompanying you on this new path in your life. But as the years passed, those people you once feared became friends, almost family, as Miranda liked to say.
Everything would have been perfect if you hadn't fallen in love with one of them, with the lady in black who gave you nightmares as a child, the ventriloquist, Donna Beneviento.
The cold felt much more piercing than usual, and part of your young personality reproached you for not having given the priestess an excuse to avoid that meeting.
You knew Donna would be there, faithful, but cold as ever. The villagers bowed and greeted you respectfully, but your head was far from the road, right next to her, remembering everything you had experienced together, everything that had happened between Lady Beneviento and you.
But this wasn't the time to remember, but to act, to pretend that nothing that could alter the status quo in which the five of you lived was happening, nothing that could disturb the peace, the control that Mother Miranda had over you.
“(Y/N), it's been a while,” a seductive voice echoed off the stone walls leading to the underground cathedral. It was Lady Dimitrescu, the most senior Lord, and the one who enjoyed being so the most.
“Alcina,” you greeted politely, earning one of her dark smiles.
You knew she was speaking to you, that she was saying something, but you didn't listen. Your eyes fixed on the figure sitting at the back of the room, the black figure who had once been your beloved, Donna.
Your heart stopped for a moment as you walked to your seat, one next to hers, as if fate were laughing at you.
“Donna,” you sighed in a timid greeting, trying not to tremble, not to remember anything that had happened in the past few months and to appear serious and authoritative, something truly complicated when your senses recognized that scent of lavender, that scent that brought back so many memories.
The lady in black didn't move, although you knew that behind the black veil lay a gaze fixed on you. The fabric danced as she turned away from your gaze, denying you even the slightest greeting.
“Don't talk to us, silly,” the Angie doll, Donna's faithful companion, rested on her lap, directing those harsh words towards you. “You silly, silly…”
“Hi, Angie, you look well,” you said, making an effort to separate the doll from its owner, to make a distinction between doll and woman, believing maybe that way you wouldn't feel so hurt.
“Shut up, tree-hugger,” the doll replied as the lady shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “What part of I don't want to talk to you don't you understand?”
“Ugh, okay,” you said, slumping into your seat and crossing your arms as you vaguely nodded to the rest of your siblings, who seemed very attentive, too attentive.
“Welcome, children,” Mother Miranda said, extending her arms at the altar, giving a silent start to that awkward meeting. “Reports.”
One by one, you gave reports of your work, of your discreet lives to the priestess. Surely she cared about nothing but knowing that no one would betray her. Sometimes you feared her, other times you hated her.
Over all those years, you had felt many things for Miranda: admiration, affection, fear... but it didn't take long for you to know her true heart, to discover that Mother Miranda only cared about Mother Miranda.
Of course, you weren't the only one with that point of view, something that made you befriend Heisenberg, but it was irrelevant. No matter what that woman looked like, she had given you those powers, eternal life… You should be grateful, right?
“Why don't you sit somewhere else? You're making me nervous,” a husky whisper reached your ears as the lady next to you moved.
It had been so long since you'd heard Donna's sweet voice that you jumped, a smile crossing your face before your brain could interpret her hurtful words. You opened your mouth to answer, but shook your head, sighing.
“Sorry, this happens to be my spot,” you said in a sour tone, a tone that was totally different from what you really felt, but that your pride couldn't suppress.
“Sciocchezze, you have much more room on that side,” Donna replied, looking away, as if looking at you was painful for her too.
“I'm not going to get up from my spot because it annoys you,” you whispered, with a haughty look on your face. “You should move instead.”
“No”
“Fine, then don't complain,” you said with a wry smile. “Shut up, you're not letting me listen”
“Are you telling me to shut up?” the lady in black said with a gasp of surprise. “You?”
“I don't know why you're surprised... Oh, of course, you were usually the one who has that right, weren’t you?” you quipped making the lady clench her fists in her lap and the Angie doll giggle discreetly.
“Chuidi il becco, I don't want to hear or see you, you're annoying me,” Donna protested, turning her head away from you again, visibly nervous, just like you.
“You started it,” you said in a satisfied whisper, ending this absurd argument, the last thing you needed. “If I'm annoying you that much, sit down there.”
“I'm not moving from here,” the dollmaker stated. “This has been my seat longer than you've been alive.”
“Well, we have a problem then,” you challenged, raising your eyebrows and crossing your arms, pretending to listen to Miranda again.
“Mannaggia...” the lady hissed, shifting in her seat, cradling Angie so her laughter wouldn't attract attention.
“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” the doll mocked, reprimanded by her owner, who moved as far away from you as possible.
You groaned and shook your head again, breathing increasingly ragged, nervous, and tense.
“…that's why we must make the villagers...” Miranda's speech entered your ears, but all you could think about was the lavender, Donna, that woman you once loved, and who was now just a stranger to you.
“By the way, stupida,” the brunette whispered again, leaning towards you mockingly. “You left a dress at my house, that pretty dress I made you.”
“Hmm,” you murmured, not paying much attention to her. “I'll go get it.”
“Don't even think about coming near my house,” Donna replied, her knuckles white from the pressure. “Don't bother trying to get it back. I burned it in the fireplace.”
“Great, how mature of you,” you said amused, with a sarcastic smile.
“Ladies... I can't believe it,” Miranda's voice sounded much closer, her tone warning, a warning, like her gaze, directed at you.
You both lowered your heads, realizing that every eye in the room was on you. Your argument hadn't been as discreet as it seemed.
“I'm sorry, Mother,” you whispered, bending down to show regret.
“You're like little girls,” the priestess complained, her gaze piercing and menacing. “If you're done arguing, may I continue with the meeting?”
“It was (Y/N)!” Angie shrieked, pointing at you accusingly with a nasty squeak. “She's bothering my Donna!”
“Gods...” Miranda whispered, resting her fingers on her temples.
“What? That's a lie,” you protested, standing up from your chair. “Mother Miranda, I...”
“Silence! Stop acting like irrational teenagers and pay attention... You're exhausting,” the witch shrieked. “Do I have to act like a mother? You, (Y/N), sit over there,” she ordered, pointing at the bench Alcina was occupying.
Growling and giving Donna one last furious look, you obeyed, ignoring Angie's taunts, who seemed pleased with her absurd victory.
“Mm, dear...” Alcina murmured when the tension dissipated, lighting a cigarette. “How long are you going to keep this up?”
“What? I didn't do anything,” you protested, paying more attention to Miranda to avoid another reprimand. “She's the one who...”
“What a pity,” sighed the lady in white, shaking her head. “You two made such a lovely couple...”
“Yeah,” you said dryly, unable to avoid glancing sideways at the lady in black, who seemed, only seemed, to be doing the same.
“You tarnish the name of love with your childish behavior, my dear. Can't you give each other a second chance?” Alcina whispered, much more discreetly, taking advantage of Miranda's distraction with Moreau. You shrugged, not taking your eyes off that black veil.
“I'd love to, but it's impossible. She... she doesn't want to listen to me,” you confessed, revealing that those feelings you had for Donna were still there, that they had never left.
“Poor Donna, I still don't know what you did to her...”
“I didn't do anything,” you protested immediately, clenching your fists in the same way as your former lover. “It was all because of her stupid jealousy.”
“Um, of course, your lack of patience with someone like her had nothing to do with it, right?” the lady in white chided you, pretending to listen to the priestess.
“Uh, it’s not...” you said, frowning, but falling silent when Miranda's gray eyes fixed on you again.
“Well, there's always a place in my castle for a beauty like you, my dear, but I wouldn't want to take away from Donna what she considers hers; that would be very wrong, wouldn't it?” the lady of the castle suggested, making a blush spread across your cheeks.
“I wish she would still consider me hers,” you murmured in an imperceptible tone, feeling a pang of pain as you looked again at your beloved, who seemed to be ignoring you.
“Then do something about it, my dear, before your stupid arguments upset Mother Miranda any further. I couldn't bear to lose you both.”
After what felt like an eternity, the meeting came to an end. Of course, you didn't hear any of Miranda's words; all you could think about was your feelings. Maybe Alcina was right, and it was time to fix this mess.
You couldn't think of anything else. You dreamed of Donna, you thought of her every moment, of the day you could feel her skin against yours again, the day the whispers of love would once again flow from her lips.
“Donna, wait,” you said, grabbing the lady who passed in front of you, holding her in place.
With a furious gasp, Donna pulled away, scorning your approach, making you swallow your pride and your words sound like a plea.
“Lasciami,” she whispered, turning her back on you while Angie made mocking gestures in your direction.
“Oh, come on, I want to talk to you and...” you insisted with that pathetic, pleading tone, chasing the lady outside.
“I don't want to talk to you, do you hear me?” she said in a cold tone, causing the rest of the Lords to look at you curiously as they walked. “You're lucky you're a Lord, and that my powers don't affect you.”
“Are you threatening me?” you asked incredulously. “Donna, please, I just want to talk.”
“I have nothing to talk to you about,” the lady said, ignoring you again and starting to walk away.
“Donna…” you sighed, exhausted, watching her figure disappear into the snow.
At least she'd talked to you, and that was much more than there had been in the last few weeks, but it wasn't enough.
When you met Lady Beneviento, everything was different. Donna was a strange woman about whom you'd heard terrible rumors, but she was still intriguing, interesting.
Your skill with plants had formed a kind of bond with that strange dollmaker, working together on an experiment, on Mother Miranda's orders. Until that moment, you believed what the villagers said about her was true, but little by little, you discovered that those claims were far from reality.
Donna was sick, yes, her mind had been damaged since birth, and it worsened after losing her family in a terrible way, but… But the word "monster," with which your old friends defined her, differed quite a bit from what you could see.
Intelligent, elegant, sweet… Those were the adjectives your mind formed every time you saw her, spent time with her. Her shy laugh became an addiction for you; her hands were the only thing you could think about when you returned home.
Like a romance book, a movie that spoke of an impossible love, that curious friendship you developed became a need as pressing as breathing. You discovered the true woman hidden behind that black veil, the beautiful woman that was Donna Beneviento, learning about her concerns, her story, her tastes…
Afternoon tea was almost obligatory, and a wide smile spread across your face as her voice seduced you with beautiful words, with a honeyed accent that stirred your whole body. Donna was sick, yes, she had problems, but you were always there to solve them, to calm her madness with words of affection, with love.
And finally, you managed to see her face, the beauty hidden behind that horrible black cloth. The deformity that adorned her skin was a trifle compared to the delicacy of her features, the brilliance of her single eye.
She was the most beautiful woman you had ever seen.
Then, one day, a day you couldn't remember since time ceased to have meaning for someone immortal like you, your lips tasted the softness of hers, melting into a kiss, a first kiss of love.
You thought love wasn't meant for someone like you, but you were completely wrong. No one stopped you from loving each other, no one stopped two Lords from finding solace in eternal kisses, in promises of love, of affection, in nights of passion.
She used the flowers, you made them grow. If it weren't for your sad past, you'd think you were always destined to be by her side. The roots that ran through your face were a reflection of her scar.
Everything was perfect; your life was full of love, affection, lavender... But it didn't last forever. A few months after leaving your old mansion and moving in with her, the problems began.
You knew her madness, her sick mind, but the more time you spent with her, the more evident her problems became.
Your duties as a Lord still existed, and that included visits to the castle and the factory. Being a sociable girl, you always offered to be a sort of messenger for Mother Miranda, and you never paid attention to it. Donna did.
You knew about her jealousy, even before a romantic relationship, but it reached limits that became unbearable. No matter how many times you said nothing had happened at the castle, that the three Dimitrescu sisters were just playing at seducing you.
Donna never believed you, and that began to take its toll. It was the beginning of the end.
An argument, an absurd argument, led to the end of the love of your life. You tried to reason with her, but you couldn't, and that drove you to despair, forcing you to do something crazy: to leave the Beneviento estate forever.
Your breakup was widely reported in the village and among the rest of the Lords. No one said anything at first, but you could feel their glances, their accusations that you were the one to blame. Donna never spoke about it, but as time passed, the tension seemed to grow even more intense.
That meeting wasn't the only one in which Mother Miranda had to reprimand you; there were many more, many Masses cut short because of the lady in black's irrational hatred for you. It was an increasingly untenable situation, and the worst part was that you had always, always loved her, and you continued to do so.
“I don't know how to dance; I'll be terrible at it,” you said nervously, taking the hand she offered you.
“Relax, tesoro, I'll show you," she whispered, gently grabbing your waist, moving you to the rhythm of a beautiful song.
The memories continued to haunt your mind when you got home; the flowers that adorned your old mansion were beginning to wither. All of nature seemed to take pity on you, and you couldn't, and wouldn't, do anything about it.
“Hey!” you protested, wiping the flour from your face. “I thought you were going to teach me how to cook!”
“It was Angie,” Donna said amused, starting a flour fight full of kisses, laughter, love, passion...
“Shit, Donna,” you complained, clutching one of her many love letters that she sent you through her doll, one of those small joys that always waited under your door.
Your thumb ran over the ink, the elegant handwriting of those old-fashioned letters in a language you didn't know. Sadness affected the trees, the plants; your heartbeat seemed like echoes of a better time, one where her lips could soothe any sorrow.
“Alcina's right,” you murmured to yourself, folding the note and putting it in a small box filled with all those painful memories. “I can't forget her, I have to do something.”
It was risky, but you had to try.
The dark forest shuddered with every step you took toward the path, as if aware of your intentions, of the love you hoped to feel again. You had to talk to her, try to reason with her sick mind so she'd understand that you loved her long before you met her, before you kissed her, and that you would always do.
“Okay, let's see...” you said to yourself when you arrived at the waterfall mansion, wondering what you would say, what words you would use in your defense. “No, not that...” you denied, going down the front steps, unable to concentrate.
The sound of the water brought new memories to your mind, clouding your judgment even more, making the idea of returning home sound better and better in your head.
“I don't know what I'm doing. She'll never forgive me,” you whispered, rubbing your eyes, going back down the steps. Maybe the next day you would try again.
A beam of light stopped your steps, along with a creaking sound you knew too well. The mansion door opened slowly, forming a dark figure in the snow, a terrifyingly recognizable one.
“(Y/N)” Donna's voice reached your ears, causing you to turn around, going completely blank.
“Donna...” Was the only thing you could say, nerves preventing your voice from coming out naturally. “Donna, I... How did you know I was here?”
“Fiori...” she whispered, crossing her arms and turning around.
“Flowers?” you asked confused, to which Donna stopped, turning her veiled head and making an unexpected gesture for you, one that seemed to indicate that you should follow her. “What...?”
“Are you just going to stand there? Vieni,” she demanded when you didn't respond.
“Fine,” you said, shaking your head and following your former lover into the mansion.
Everything was just as you remembered. The musty smell brought memories back to your mind and the portrait on the stairs stirred your nerves, sending a familiar warmth over your skin. You felt at home, but the most painful thing was that it never would be again.
“There,” the lady murmured, pointing to a vase in the entryway, one with flowers that shone brightly, as if they had just sprouted. “Those flowers were dried, and their revival could only mean one thing: that you were nearby.”
“Oh,” you nodded, rubbing your hands together. “I guess knowing I was coming kept you from kicking me off your property, huh?”
“Hmm, I've had a few minutes to get ready,” Donna replied, crossing her arms. “I guess you're here for your dress.”
“I thought you burned it,” you whispered cautiously, studying the posture of the woman in black, approaching slowly.
“No,” she said, her voice cold and dry.
“Um, okay... erm...” you stammered, scratching the back of your neck, unsure of what to say, how to bring love back into those walls. “Donna, that's not necessary,” you said, approaching her, ready to remove the black veil, something she rejected by moving away from you.
“Don't touch me,” she growled, making you grit your teeth.
“Oh, come on, you're a beautiful woman, Donna. I've told you a hundred times. Do you really have to put on that hideous thing to talk to me?” you said, trying unsuccessfully to push the black fabric away.
“You also told me you'd never leave me,” the woman replied, moving further away from you, her tone spiteful. “You lied to me, (Y/N).”
“Ugh,” you gasped, opening your mouth but unable to find the words. “I wish I could talk to you like two normal people. Do you think you can do that?” you demanded, insisting, finally managing to pull back the black fabric and see her beauty once more.
“Lasciami!” Donna squealed, her one eye shining, red from crying. “Have you come to humiliate me?”
“No!” you squealed back, pushing the veil out of her reach. “I came to talk to you, Donna.”
“Parlare? What do you want to talk about, (Y/N)? I have nothing to talk to you about, I told you... give it back to me,” she demanded, reaching out her hand, starting a pointless fight over the veil.
Patience...
The lady of the castle's words, those accusatory ones, made you give up, returning the veil to Donna just as the situation was starting to get out of hand.
“Ugh, you're insufferable,” you protested, shaking your head as she pondered putting her veil back on. Finally, she decided to leave it, even though her gaze hurt you, the hatred in her eye piercing you mercilessly.
“So, why did you come to my house? To tell me how insufferable I am?” she asked ironically, dropping the fabric to the floor and kicking it nervously.
“Ugh, can't you forget your stupid pride for a moment? I'm the one who's come to talk to you,” you complained again, chasing the lady, who seemed to be comically running away from you, around the mansion. “Unbelievable, now you're running away from me?”
“Do you think I would run away from someone like you?” the lady said, a sinister smile on her face, leaning against the dining room table. “I could have you throw off the cliff, (Y/N)”
“That's funny,” you said haughtily, walking toward her in a petulant manner. “I'm not some villager you can manipulate at will, Donna. We're on the same level, remember?”
“Hm, I don't know what Mother Miranda saw to name you a Lord,” Donna murmured in a low but arrogant tone. “You would have been better off as a concubine of the castle.”
“And you would have been better off as the lunatic dollmaker you were before Miranda took pity on you,” you replied, hurt by her words, slightly regretting it, but standing your ground, taking a breath. “It's absurd, Donna, it's absurd that we continue arguing like this.”
“No, (Y/N), or rather, Lady (Y/N),” Donna said, raising her eyebrow. “You are Lady (Y/N), I am Lady Beneviento. You better respect me.”
“Yes, of course,” you said in a mocking tone. “Excuse me, Lady Beneviento, but you didn't call me that way when we were making love, remember?”
“Oh, you mean before you betrayed me? Stupida...” the lady hissed, clearly offended by your comment.
“I never betrayed you,” you whispered in a dark tone, glancing sideways at some plants that seemed to be ruffled by your nerves, making you take a deep breath and try to relax. “I've told you every way I could, but you never listened.”
“You mean you lied to me every way you could,” Donna corrected.
“Ugh, you're...”
“Hey, you two!” Angie interrupted the argument, comically walking over to the dining room table. “Will you all just shut up? You're annoying!”
“Get out, Angie!” you shrieked in unison, causing the doll to flee in terror.
“How dare you address Angie in that tone?” Donna snarled, approaching you and grabbing the collar of your dress. “Show more respect. You may be a Lord, but you don't want to make me angry.”
“Mm, I know,” you said, removing her hand from your clothes with a gasp, but remaining calm. “I know you, Donna, better than you think.”
“Congratulazioni, (Y/N)...” she hissed, pulling away slightly, but maintaining a furious glare.
“Yeah, whatever,” you sneered, straightening your clothes. “Oh, where did that Lady (Y/N) go? Who's disrespecting me now?”
“You don't deserve my respect, stupida; you betrayed me, you cheated on me!” the lady shrieked, stamping her foot again, echoing off the mansion walls.
“I never cheated on you! You were the one who imagined it all! You and your stupid paranoia!”
Donna fell silent, but soon after, she laughed mockingly, nervously, shaking her head.
“You still have the nerve to deny what happened at the castle. You're bold, I'll give you that,” she murmured, turning her back on you with a tired sigh.
“Nothing happened at the castle,” you said, lowering your tone as well, approaching the lady slowly. “Nothing happened between Daniela and me.”
“I saw the way she looked at you! How she tried to seduce you!” the lady in black exclaimed, turning around, making you back away again. “I may be sick, but I'm not blind, (Y/N).”
“You only saw what you wanted to see, Donna,” you said, trying to calm down, trying not to get intoxicated by the lavender. “You know exactly what those girls are like. I'd never...”
“You'd never what?” she interrupted, without moving away from you, facing you directly. “You'd never leave me?”
“If I left, it was because you didn’t listen to me,” you defended yourself, easing the argument a bit, but maintaining the same tension. “It was impossible to reason with you.”
“You broke my heart. I guess I should have made you a hot bath to clean your filthy body, filthy with your betrayal, vero?” she said in a sour tone, leaning closer and pointing at you.
“You still think I cheated on you,” you said, unsure if it was for Donna, or for yourself. “You never trusted me, Donna.”
“How can I trust you?” the lady asked, waving her arms wildly. “You're... you're a beautiful girl. Everyone wants you. I-I can't stand the way they looked at you, wanting to taste you, to steal your warmth from my body.”
“You're beautiful too,” you said, bringing your hand to her cheek, a gesture she, of course, rejected with a sad moan, looking at you with a moist eye. “And that doesn't mean I think every person who comes near you wants to sleep with you, Donna. Your jealousy was completely irrational.”
“Irrational... che divertente...” she whispered, frowning, unable to meet your gaze. “That stupid girl tried to kiss you. Do you really think that's irrational?”
You rolled your eyes and shook your head, seeing some light in that dark argument.
“I'm not one of your dolls, Donna. I can act on my own, you know?” you stated, your voice confident. “Did you not think for a moment I'd pull away?”
The lady in black hesitated, speechless, and quickly approached, grabbing the back of your neck and pulling you into a passionate, unpredictable kiss, but one that gave you the warmth you were missing.
“Donna...” you sighed, placing your hand on your assaulted lips.
“See? You haven't pulled away,” she said with a satisfied smile, leaning back on the table.
“Sure I haven’t,” you said, moving closer again. “I haven't pulled away because... because I wanted you to kiss me.”
“I don't believe you,” Donna whispered, your lips very close to hers again, her eye closed and a tear running down her cheek.
“I don't need you to believe me, just for you to kiss me again,” you sighed, now attacking her lips, kissing her passionately, letting yourself be carried away by that spark her accusatory kiss ignited in your heart.
“You just want to... tempt me,” she said among kisses, grabbing your waist, your dress, your face... running her fingers along the roots of your cheeks while your tongues played tirelessly, reaffirming how much you had missed each other.
“Did I succeed?” you asked, amused, moving your hands to her black hair as your bodies danced, wanting to mingle.
“No,” she said, pulling away so she could unbutton your dress, gasping at the effect of her teeth on your neck, her hands beneath your clothes.
“Whatever you say,” you said, shaking your head as your fingers played with the buttons of her black blouse and your leg was manipulated by her nails digging into your skin.
There were no more words, just kisses, just hands roaming over a body they thought they'd lost. The caresses of her soft hands on your skin made you moan, deepening your work on her lips as your legs unconsciously moved toward the sofa.
“You're disrespecting me,” Donna accused you among gasps as your playful hand pushed her onto the sofa, while hers pulled your body to rest on top of hers, your legs on either side of her hips.
“Good,” you said contentedly, cupping her partially exposed breasts, pushing the black fabric of her blouse away from the perfect view of her skin.
She looked at you, but couldn't suppress the instinct to devour you again, to move her hips with yours in a hot, tense dance filled with hate, love, and passion.
“Y-You've always been the weakest Lord, (Y/N),” Donna said, pushing you down from her body as she ripped off your bra with her hand, positioning herself on top of you, dominating you.
“That's not what I think,” you whispered, biting her ear, causing her to protest with a moan as you squeezed one of her now-exposed breasts, throwing the fabric that protected them across the room. “I bet you're dying for me to do it.”
“You're dying,” she accused you, hitting the couch as your hand slid up her skirt, touching the soft skin of her legs, making her even more nervous. “You tricked me into being at your mercy, and it's the opposite, (Y/N).”
“Mm, I suppose you're saying that because you're on top, right? I know it's not what you like, Donna,” you challenged, placing one of your legs between her thighs, making the lady in black falter, shivering at the contact. “I think you like being at my mercy...”
“Maybe in your dreams,” Donna said, moving quickly to remove the friction and tearing off your underwear with a sharp tug, sinking her hand into your already damp folds. “But they're just dreams, (Y/N)”
“Donna...” you moaned helplessly as her slender fingers skillfully ran over your body, circling your clit, making you lose your composure, forcing you to moan.
“Così bagnata...” the dollmaker whispered, sinking two fingers into your entrance without warning, still looking at you, letting you know she was in charge. “Now you realize what you lost.”
“Oh,” you moaned, fighting to keep your legs from moving too much from the contact, pulling the brunette into a sloppy kiss as she worked her fingers inside you, caressing your walls, curling when she knew you needed it.
“Are you enjoying this, stupida?” she asked, pulling your hair angrily, but not hurting you, forcing you to nod, to focus on her when in reality, you were too immersed in the pleasure you were receiving.
“Shut up,” you said after a deep moan, forcing your body to calm down, making Donna giggle with satisfaction, speeding up her work between your legs. “Have you been practicing since I've been gone?”
“Stupida...” she hissed, tugging at your hair again, sinking her teeth into one of your nipples, making you cry out in pleasurable pain coupled with her almost perfect movements. “I can feel you, (Y/N). I know you're close…”
You shook your head, but your face and your moans were unable to deny her words. Your hips bucked with every movement Donna made, and your lips claimed hers wildly, biting, licking, devouring everything within reach.
Sooner than you would have liked, ecstasy hit you, making your entire body tense, wrapping your walls around her fingers as you cried out in pleasure, squeezing your body against hers, kissing that wonderful lover you had.
“Just like I said, weak,” Donna whispered, sitting up and removing her fingers, forcing you to taste your orgasm, your pleasure.
“Do you think this is over?” you threatened, crawling across the couch before pushing the lady in black back and pinning her with your legs. “No, Donna, this has only just begun.”
“Dare to lay a hand on me...” the lady hissed, as your lips began to caress her skin, your nails scratching her legs, and your ears ignoring her words.
“I won't lay a hand on you,” you said, amused, tugging her panties down her ankles, keeping a firm hand on her chest, making her eye flutter closed.
Your teeth scraped the skin of her thighs, and her hands seemed erratic, tugging at your hair with barely any strength. Your mouth moved up and up until it reached its destination, her wet, intoxicating scent you soon tasted.
“Cazzo...” Donna protested as your lips brushed her skin, as your tongue mercilessly traced her folds, circling her clit, absorbing, enjoying every shy sound her mouth made.
“You're so wet... you're delicious, Donna,” you said in a moment of lucidity, leaving hatred and anger aside, remembering how you enjoyed her body, how you enjoyed nights of passion with her.
“Bugiarda...” the lady accused, pushing your head towards her again, forcing you to continue savoring her essence.
“Am I a liar? Well, then you won't want me to finish you,” you said amusedly, switching your mouth for your hand, stimulating the brunette in a way you knew was irresistible to her.
“If you stop, I'll kill you,” she said in a dark tone, pulling at your hair with a furious look, embarrassed by the pleasure your lips were giving to her.
You pretended not to want to kiss her again, to make her taste herself, to realize there was still something very strong between you. You doubted if it would have served any purpose.
“You can't kill me,” you said, stimulating her clit again, looking over her body, analyzing her expressions of pleasure.
“I advise you to use your mouth for more than just talking, stupida... it's not good for you to defy me,” she told you, pulling at your hair, burying your head between her legs.
“You can't kill me because...” you said, stopping again, caressing her delicious wetness with your fingers, inserting them slowly in her eager walls, making her moan shamefully. “… Because I know you still love me.”
Without waiting for a reply, your tongue ran over her wetness again, forming a subtle rhythm with your fingers, making the lady in black lose control of her language, whisper words you didn't understand, and moan uncontrollably.
“Sto...Sto per...” she said, pushing you away before her back tensed and her thighs squeezed your head tightly, feeling the embrace of her insides, the explosion of pleasure you could feel on your lips.
Neither of you said anything after that. There weren't a word of love, just silence as the two of you dressed slowly, unsure of what had really happened, how that involuntary act of passion had occurred.
“You've got what you wanted, you can go,” Donna said, buttoning her blouse and tucking her skirt into place, without looking at your face.
“You don't understand, Donna, this isn't what I came for,” you said, covering yourself in the same way, walking behind her.
“Oh, you came to talk, didn't you? And get fucked... that's what I've always been to you,” she said in a bitter tone, pushing your lost bra against your chest. “Go, per favore...”
“Donna, please, don't... don't make it so difficult,” you protested, chasing after your elusive lover again. “If you think I'm that way, you don't know me.”
“I thought I knew you... I thought I knew you, tesoro," Donna murmured, wiping a tear from her cheek. “I-It's of no use pretending to hate you. I'd like to hate you, but I can't.”
“Then don't hate me, my love...” you sighed, cupping her face in your hands. “We were both wrong, but...”
“I was wrong about you.”
“Ugh, Donna, please… Stop being so stubborn and listen to me,” you insisted, wiping away your tears as well. “I never, ever cheated on you. I rejected Daniela as soon as I could. That day I just wanted to be back with you. Every time I left, I wanted to be back with you, with the woman I loved and... and still love.”
“You... do you still love me?” she asked, with a different look, gently grabbing your wrists.
“Every day that passes without you is hell, Donna. Eternal life isn't worth it without you,” you confessed, making Donna lower her head. “And I know you feel the same.”
“Io... Io..." she stammered, blinking erratically. “Th-those things I said while we were making love, I'm not… I'm not like that.”
“I know…” you sighed, very close to her lips. “I would have preferred for you to love me like before, to hear you whisper in my ear while you take me…”
“Sono d’accordo,” she sighed, caressing your face, the roots of your cheeks, brushing back your hair, sticky with sweat.
“You agree? Do you mean about sex?” you joked, making her smile as she shook her head.
“No, tesoro… Eternal life is hell without you,” she whispered, before placing her lips on yours, in a different way, salty with tears.
Could you write a story where the Reader was Donna's only friend during their childhood, always there to protect her from bullies? Like, whenever someone tried to make fun of Donna, the Reader would step in and start threatening those jerks and stuff like that.
But then, when Donna became a lord, she lost the Reader, and all she could think about was how the Reader would’ve comforted her during those tough times. Even though she missed them, Donna doesn’t try to get the Reader back because she’s still figuring out her powers and is scared of accidentally hurting them.
Fast forward a few years, and the Reader decides to reach out to Donna. They enter her territory and find Donna sitting on that old bench where they used to hang out and chat as kids. They start talking again, and their meetups become more frequent. But every time the Reader leaves, Donna feels this pain; she wants them to stay and make sure they’ll never leave her again.
Finally, Donna opens up about how she feels, and it leads to a sweet moment where they kiss and share all those cute feelings! 🤭
Thank youuu:) xx
Yesss!!!! Thank you for your request!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!!! :)))))
Nothing ever changes
Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem! Reader
Warnings: Angst, fluff, Donna being Donna
Word count: 7,965
Summary: She was your friend, you promised you'd protect her...
N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open!!! I'm waiting yours!!! I love you all!!! :))
“N-No... (Y/N), I don't think it's a good idea,” the young girl next to you, your best friend for as long as you can remember, Donna Beneviento, said.
“Why? Come on, Donna, there's a lot to do in the village, we'll have a good time,” you insisted when her feet sank into the snow and her face hardened.
“No, I can't,” she replied with a broken voice, hugging her most faithful companion, the doll her father made for her.
“Are you scared?” you asked innocently, placing a hand on her shoulder.
Your friend shook her head, but held the doll tighter.
“Mamma says there are bad people in the village, people who want to hurt me,” the brunette girl explained. “The people in this village don't like me.”
“Nonsense, it's just that they're jealous of you,” you said, still smiling, taking her hand and forcing her to keep walking. “You know, you live in a very big house, you have a lot of money...”
“That's not...” Donna began, remaining silent for a few seconds. “That doesn't matter to them, (Y/N), all they see when they look at me is... this,” she murmured in an almost imperceptible tone, pointing at her face.
“Oh,” you sighed sadly, looking at your friend's lifeless eye and the scar surrounding it. “I don't think it matters,” you said afterward, with a look of pity. “Besides, I'm with you, and so is Angie, we'll protect you.”
Your friend's gaze slowly lifted, showing a bit of light, a bit of hope.
“Davvero?” she asked with a sigh, bringing her wrist closer to her chest. “Will you protect me?”
“You're my best friend,” you affirmed, jumping in the snow as you moved her weak hand, finally making the young Beneviento girl surrender and walk beside you.
The year was 1981, although in that remote Romanian village, time seemed to stand still. You were an ordinary villager, the daughter of a family of cabinetmakers who, while hardly comparable to the nobility of that place, were close enough to being an important one.
Your father worked with wood, offering his services to anyone who requested them. Such delicate and necessary work didn’t go unnoticed, and granted him certain privileges that made your lives easier.
Among his many clients was the mysterious lady of the castle, Alcina Dimitrescu, one of the Three Lords who, along with the messenger of the Gods, Mother Miranda, and her siblings, served as guides and protection for mere mortals like you.
But these important people weren't the only ones who needed a cabinetmaker. One of your father's best clients was the patriarch of an ancient noble family that lived in a somewhat remote place: Giuseppe Beneviento.
The Beneviento family had noble blood, or so you were told. Apparently, they had dedicated themselves for centuries to the art of making dolls and toys for the village children, although sometimes you heard rumors of some kind of curse that had fallen upon that ancient family.
You never cared much, because the Beneviento family had a daughter, a girl only three years older than you, whom you met when you were very, very young: Donna Beneviento.
You always accompanied your father when he did business; he said your innocent face helped him make better deals, and you loved seeing new places and meeting new people.
So, the dollmakers’ daughter began to be a very special playmate, and over time, she became your best friend.
Donna was a mentally ill child who didn't usually communicate with other people, with anyone other than you, or her parents. But a shyness bordering on mental illness wasn't the worst of her problems. Some time ago, Donna told you about the scar that crossed her right eye, rendering it useless.
According to her, when young Beneviento was just a baby, she cried excessively, disturbing the peace of the old waterfall mansion and the equally wounded mind of the family matriarch.
One day, Donatella Beneviento, tried to silence her daughter's desperate cries by rudely stabbing her in the eye with scissors, leaving her permanently wounded.
The scar left behind as a result of her mother’s illness became her worst complex.
The children laughed at her, mocked her for her appearance, and it made her even more withdrawn. Her only form of communication with the world was the doll her father had given her, Angie.
But that changed when you were with her. With you, she did talk, she expressed her feelings, played, laughed... She was your best friend, the best you'd ever had, and you loved spending time with her.
Donna was a sensitive girl, but tremendously intelligent. You could spend hours listening to the stories she told, the lessons her parents gave her, learning Italian… As a thank you for taking care of her, her father even gave you another doll, because, at least with you, she could speak for herself.
You were nine, she was twelve, and despite the difference, you were inseparable, you thought you’ll be forever.
“See? It's okay,” you said with a smile, holding your friend's hand as you walked through the village.
“(Y/N), no... I'm not feeling well, can we go back home?” Donna asked, looking everywhere.
“Are you sick?”
“I don't like it here, io...” she murmured, lowering her voice and hiding her face behind the porcelain doll. “(Y/N), ho paura.”
“Does that mean you're scared?” you asked, stopping walking to face her, trying to calm her down.
She nodded with a sniffle, making you regret your attempt, rubbing her arm comfortingly.
“Okay, we'll play on your grounds,” you said, a little disappointed, but prioritizing Donna's well-being.
A dull thud followed by a surprised gasp interrupted your return. A ball of mud landed on your friend's face, knocking her to the ground.
“I got her! I got the weirdo!” a boy about your age exclaimed, laughing behind some bushes with some friends.
“Donna, are you okay?” you asked, helping your friend up. The poor girl couldn't stop shaking and couldn't utter any comprehensible words. “Hey, that was mean!” you accused them.
“Oh, the weirdo's friend,” mocked a girl following the bullies, still giggling. “Weirdo!”
“Hey, stop it! It's not right to laugh at others!” you shrieked angrily, standing in front of your friend with a face that was meant to be threatening.
“That's what weirdos are for, to laugh at them,” explained a boy, rolling another ball of mud. “Hey, look at me, weirdo!”
Donna was unable to calm down, and a mud-stained tear began to flow from her good eye.
“One-eyed Beneviento, one-eyed Beneviento!” the children mocked, pointing at the humiliated girl.
“Enough!” you shouted, angrily clenching your fists and running toward them, throwing yourself at a disgusting girl. “You like mud? Then mud you'll have!” you shrieked, struggling with the girl and burying her face in a puddle before the astonished gaze of her friends.
“Stop, stop!” the bully protested, unable to escape your grasp. “You'll pay for this!”
“You don't scare me, Hanna!” you shrieked, struggling against her friends, who came to her aid. “Don't mess with my friend!”
“Oh, her friend,” one of them mocked, managing to pull you away from the girl while you kicked. “Friend of the freak!”
You growled furiously, managing to kick the kid, causing him to let you go with a cry of pain as he doubled over.
“Damn it...” he protested, trying to hit you back, but you were faster, grabbing his arm and sinking your teeth into it. “Hey, she bit me!” he yelled, gesturing to his friends.
“Come on, let's go...” the mud-stained girl said. “It's not worth it.”
“Yeah, run! You're evil!” you yelled as the bullies ran off, glancing at your friend, who was kneeling on the ground. “Donna.”
“Sono un mostro, un mostro...” the brunette babbled, holding her head tightly and fidgeting.
“Donna, don't do that,” you said, unable to control her crisis, fleeing from her nervous swatting. “Donna, stop…”
You were a little girl, and although it wasn't the first time you'd seen your friend in that condition, a pang of pain ran through your chest, along with a wave of guilt. With your abilities diminished by your age and your lack of understanding of what was happening to your sick friend, all you could do was kneel beside her and hold her, hold her tight.
The sobs continued for a while, but eventually your comforting embrace worked, calming poor Donna's madness.
“Come on... let's get you cleaned up, okay?” you said, helping her to her feet, putting your arm around her as you walked back to her grounds.
She nodded, sobbing weakly, slowly escorting you to the riverbank, where you began to remove the mud from her face.
“I'm sorry, it was my fault,” you said, your gaze downcast, unable to look at her face.
“Mamma will be angry... I stained her dress,” Donna said, distracted but letting herself be taken care of.
“That's not fair,” you commented, finishing cleaning up the dirt.
“She says I'm a disgrace to the family,” she explained, making you frown.
“What's a disgrace?”
“Something bad,” Donna replied, looking away and picking up her now-clean Angie doll. “(Y/N), I... gr-grazie... for protecting me,” she said in a sad tone, as you returned to your favorite play spot, an old stone bench.
“You're my best friend, Donna, I'll always protect you,” you said, confident in your words as you sat down next to her.
“Really? Will you always protect me?” the brunette asked, hugging her doll, shedding a tear on the porcelain.
“Always,” you affirmed, rubbing her back. “Come on, let's play. Judy must have gotten tired of waiting for us,” you said next, searching for your doll. “She was grounded for teasing Angie.”
It wasn't the last incident.
Luckily, you were always there to protect your friend from the other children's bullying, always looking out for her, as you promised. You were convinced nothing would separate you.
As the years passed, there weren't too many changes in your afternoons of chatting and playing. Time was a cruel element, and it began to affect your thoughts, your body... When you reached adolescence, things started to look different.
Unlike Donna, who had lessons at home, you attended the village school, and although you hated your classmates for laugh at your friend, age began to change that.
Like any teenager, you began to let the past go and meet up with them to stroll around the village, get into mischief, and forget about your old doll, as well as your old friend Donna. She never left her grounds despite her maturity, and yes, you would visit her every day, or almost every day.
It pained you to admit it, but sitting next to her on that stone bench became less and less common.
Things didn't improve as the years passed, and in 1987, everything changed, everything changed with Donna.
“Okay, it's been fun, but I have to go.” you said, getting up from the ground and dusting off your dress.
“Are you going to see your weirdo friend? Stop wasting time, (Y/N),” your friend Hanna said, her tone dismissive.
You rolled your eyes and shook your head, sighing, annoyed at having to abandon that funny afternoon.
“Leave her alone,” you muttered. “Hey, don't do anything funny without me!” you shouted as you waved goodbye, heading back into the lush forest.
In the distance, on your usual bench, was that black figure, Donna, waiting silently next to her doll.
You were already 15, she was 17, about to come of age, but even so, she never abandoned her doll, never let it be consumed by dust, like yours had been.
“Hey, Donna,” you said with a smile, giving your friend a quick hug, who smiled warmly, clinging to your body.
“You... it took you a while,” she commented, slowly pulling away.
Of course, she changed too. She became a truly beautiful young woman despite her flaw, and... well, you'd thought for some time that she really was the most beautiful girl you knew.
In fact, you'd been pretty clear that men weren't your thing, after several failed teenage romances, and... somehow, the connection, the bond between you and Donna, grew a little different, a little more... warm.
“Sorry,” you apologized as you sat down next to her, keeping her hand in yours. “I got a little distracted.”
She sighed, nodding and slowly looking away, disappointment visible on her face, and something else you couldn't quite make out.
“You good, Donna?” you asked gently, moving closer to her. “You don't look well.”
“I've never do,” she murmured with a sad smile. “But you're right. Things aren't going well, (Y/N).”
“Mm,” you murmured, rubbing her back lovingly and holding her soft hand again. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“My mom is handling the pregnancy really badly,” she began.
Of course, you already knew Donna was expecting a little sibling soon, but that wasn't necessarily a good thing, not with her mother's craziness.
“Oh,” you commented. “Did she hit you again?”
“No,” she denied, making a strange face. “But her madness is worse than ever... Father says she shouldn't drink alcohol, but... (Y/N), I fear for my brother or sister's life... I don't want the same thing to happen to it.”
“W-Well, I don't know much about that... but at least you're here to protect it, right?” you said with a confident smile, thinking, unintentionally, about how much fun you were having with your friends, and how sad the visits to Donna usually were.
“Just like you're always here to protect me, aren't you?” she sighed with a discreet smile, a faint blush on her cheeks.
“Yes, that's it,” you affirmed, glancing sideways at the doll she was holding and frowning. Young Beneviento was definitely too old for dolls, and that seemed... strange to you.
“I guess you're right,” she said with a weak voice, looking into your eyes. “I'm sorry, (Y/N), you'd probably rather be with your friends than listen to my misery.”
“No,” you lied exaggeratedly. “No, no, Donna, don't say that… I like being with you, you're my best friend. But, hey… you should, I don't know, get some fun out of here. Do you feel like coming to the reservoir tonight? We're going to have a bonfire, it'll be fun.”
“I can't,” Donna denied, as she always did when you suggested hanging out with your friends.
“Are you sure? I think Hanna Petrescu was going to steal beers from her parents and…”
“Hanna? (Y/N)… why…?” the brunette interrupted, with a nasty look on her face. “Why are you hanging out with her? Don't you remember what she did to me?”
“Yeah, well…” you said nervously, looking away. “But she's changed, really, she's not like she used to be.”
“No, (Y/N), those people never change, nothing ever changes,” Donna told you, her tone serious, her gaze darker.
“Uh, that's not true,” you sighed, swinging your legs onto the stone bench. “Come on, you'll have fun, we'll tell scary stories, we'll play spin the bottle...”
“Spin the bottle? What's that?” the young Beneviento asked with a curious look.
You laughed mischievously, lifting your legs onto the bench and crossing them to sound more confident.
“It's a really funny game, you began. They put a bottle on the ground, we stand around it, and spin it.”
“What's so funny about that? I don't get it,” your friend said, her expression innocent.
“Oh, that's the best part,” you said, lowering your voice. “When the bottle stops, the people it's pointing at have to kiss.”
“U-Un bacio?” Donna asked, pulling away slightly with a look of disgust. “Why a kiss?”
You shrugged and laughed playfully.
“That's the way it is,” you said, shaking your head.
“I-I don't understand,” she murmured, pulling away slightly. “Why is kissing funny? That's not... that's not right.”
“Why not?”
“A kiss isn't just given to anyone for a stupid game; it's a declaration of love, it's serious, (Y/N),” Donna explained, showing her complete rejection of your teenage playfulness.
“Oh, that's nonsense,” you said, dismissing it with a wave of your hand. “It's 1987, don't be so old-fashioned.”
“Old-fashioned?” she said, offended, shaking her head.
“It doesn't mean anything, Donna, it's just a game, look,” you said, trying to escape the tense situation in the worst possible way, approaching your friend and stealing a kiss on the lips that left her with her eyes wide open. “See? It's nothing.”
“Why did you do that?!” the young woman shrieked, getting up from the bench in annoyance and placing a hand on her desecrated lips.
“Oh, come on, did it bother you? I wanted to show you it doesn't mean anything,” you said, standing up as well and placing a hand on her shoulder.
“Maybe not to you,” the brunette murmured, crossing her arms with a confused look, caressing her lips.
“What do you mean?” you asked cautiously, looking at your friend's face, feeling something stir inside you, something that had been created inside you after that silly kiss. “Donna, hey, don't take it so seriously, okay?”
“Take this seriously? Y-You kissed me, (Y/N),” she protested, pacing erratically.
“It was a joke...” you began in a calmer, apologetic tone.
“Of course, it doesn't mean anything to you,” she hissed, clenching her fists on either side of her hips. Her gaze was as cold as ice, her eyes reflecting darkness. “Is that it, vero? I don't mean anything to you.”
“What? Come on, Donna, don't be like that, you know that's not true,” you said somewhat nervously, biting the lips that kissed her, and that seemed to demand something more. “You're my best friend.”
“Am I? I thought Hanna Petrescu was now,” she mocked in an ironic, hurtful tone.
“What are you talking about? Donna, relax, will you? You're losing your mind again, count to ten...”
“Stop treating me like I'm a child!” the young lady shrieked, making you back away. “Stop... stop pretending to care about me.”
“I care about you,” you sighed, placing a hand on her cheek. “Donna...”
“No... it's not true, I can see it in your eyes,” she said, sniffling and pushing your touch away from her skin. “You're only coming because you feel sorry for me. You'd rather be with them.”
“Stop talking nonsense, Donna. Anyone might think you're jealous of my friends,” you said in a haughty tone, adopting a cocky pose. “Besides, if you listened to me and came with us, you'd realize what...”
“Do you want me to leave the safety of my home to share glances and words with the people who hurt me when I was little? Is that what you want?” Donna accused you, with a disgusted look on her face.
“Maybe then you'd realize they've changed, and you'd stop sinking into this sinister place and making my life miserable with your sorrows,” you whispered back, instantly regretting it.
“I'm making your life miserable, aren't I?” she said, pain on her face, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Well... well then... go away.”
“Donna, wait, I didn't mean...” you said, grabbing her hand, a hand she jerked away. “Donna, you're my best friend, you always have been…”
“You're lying, and the worst part is that you know it,” the lady hissed, stamping her feet angrily. “N-No… I can't go on like this, I can't stand seeing you when you don't want to, and… maybe believing that… that you and I…”
“Yes?” you asked with an involuntary smile, moving a little closer. “You and I…?”
“Forget it, nothing I feel, nothing I do or say means anything to you, you've shown me that,” she finally said, moving away from your approach, leaving you petrified. “You have fun with them, don’t you? Then go with them.”
“Donna, no… you can't do this to me… I…” you said nervous and scared. Everything seemed to be going terribly wrong. “Hey, I want to be with you.”
“No, I can't stand it,” Donna said, relaxing her expression and wiping away her tears. “Please go…”
“Donna… w-wait a minute, no, you can’t just kick me out of your life,” you pleaded, regretting your actions, your words.
“I can,” she said firmly, pointing down the path that led to the village. “Go, (Y/N)… I never want to see you again.”
“What? No, Donna, wait.”
“Fuori! Fuori, fuori, fuori!" she yellled, frantically, causing you to run away from that place in fear.
That was the last time you saw her, at least for several years.
Losing Donna wasn't as simple as it seemed, as you wanted to believe. You were happy with your friends, but you felt like you were missing something; you missed her presence, her maturity, her always-on advice... They said you don't know what you have until you lose it, and it couldn't be more true.
Despite everything, your teenage life continued to change, blocking your own desire to return to your friend, your best friend, and resume those conversations, those laughs, to see her smile again...
But you didn't. Letting yourself be carried away by youth, you began to forget about Donna, leaving her as nothing but a memory. Yes, you knew about her life, you knew she'd had a little sister named Claudia, a cheerful girl and... well, apparently healthier than Donna herself.
Not wanting to reopen old wounds, you let her live her life, let her take care of her little sister as she promised she would, and let your lives separate completely. Until 1996.
That year wasn't good, it was terrible.
You were already 24, maturity was beginning to arrive in your life, and at just the right time, a horrible tragedy occurred, one Donna could never forget.
Little Claudia Beneviento, only 9 years old, contracted an incurable disease that caused her to die suddenly. Donna's sister, the one she swore to protect, had died, but things could always get worse.
After the death of her young daughter, Donatella Beneviento's madness drove her to commit an atrocious act: to end her life by throwing herself off the cliff next to the mansion. But she didn't do it alone. Giuseppe Beneviento, in a desperate attempt to save his wife, threw himself after her.
Donna was left completely alone, and that was something you couldn't, and didn't want to, ignore.
But despite your attempts to talk to her, to be with her during those terrible moments, you were unsuccessful. She didn't want to see you; she didn't even look at you at her family's funeral; she wouldn't open the door for you, or answer the phone.
You may not have realized it when it happened, but you began to understand that she meant what she said, that you would never be friends again.
Two years after the tragedy, in 1998, you decided to be brave, try one last time, and venture into the forest to give a chance to that special friendship that had united you, and that was broken because of you.
“Hey, Donna,” you said, knocking on the mansion door. “Come on, you can't still be mad at me after everything that's happened. I've... I've grown up and... and I want to apologize, keep you company, be with you like I promised I would. Please, Donna...”
“How loving...” a mysterious voice sounded as the door opened.
You stepped back, frightened by the presence before you, one you hadn't expected. The village's protector, the priestess sent by the Gods, Mother Miranda, came through the door with a satisfied look, analyzing your every gesture.
“Mother Miranda,” you said politely, bowing your head to the priestess, controlling the incipient trembling in your body.
“Mm, (Y/N), right? The cabinetmaker's daughter,” the blonde witch said, leaning against the door frame with a sense of grandeur, justifiably so, of course. “What a surprise to see you here.”
“Same, Mother Miranda,” you whispered discreetly, trying to look over her shoulders, trying to locate your friend. “I came to see Donna.”
“Donna, of course,” she sighed, rolling her eyes. “Oh, right... you were very close friends... I remember seeing you two playing behind the chapel.”
“Yes, ma'am,” you stated fearfully, earning a sinister chuckle from the priestess. “Please, I want to speak with her.”
“Um, I'm afraid Donna is... unwell right now, (Y/N), you'll have to come back later,” Miranda explained, making your concern grow.
“Is something wrong with Donna?” you asked, hopping pathetically around trying to get a glimpse of the inside of the house.
“Well, apart from being completely alone, losing her family, and having a serious mental illness... no, nothing's wrong with her,” the woman mocked, causing you to clench your fists tightly.
“I want to help her. I promised I would,” you said without thinking much. “She was my friend, and...”
"Oh, it's a shame she didn't have you all these years, isn't it?” she mocked again, a sickening darkness in her gaze. “Maybe I wouldn't be here if it had been that way.”
“Y-You have no right to accuse me, she kicked me out of her life,” you explained, unsure, probably because you were so scared of that horrible woman.
“Sure, and you were too busy to come back, right?” she rebuked you again, still smiling.
“I...” you stammered, finding some painful truth in her words. “That's not...”
“I'll give you some advice, little bird,” the woman began, putting her arm around your shoulders, walking down the front steps with you. “Forget about Donna. She's on... a different mission right now.”
“A mission? What have you done to Donna?” you asked, abruptly pulling away from the witch's grasp.
“Help her, my dear, and now if you'll excuse me, I’m busy,” she finally said, pushing you slightly and heading back into the mansion, slamming the door.
“What...? Donna!” you cried desperately. “Donna!”
“Miss (Y/N),” a voice behind you said, a voice that startled you.
When you turned around, you discovered it was Josef, the kind gardener of the Beneviento family. According to rumors, he was left to care for Donna when her family died.
“Mr. Simon,” you said, recovering from your shock. “Tell me, what's going on? What's she doing here?”
“Oh, great news, Miss (Y/N),” he said with a casual smile, escorting you back to the village. “Mother Miranda has taken pity on Mistress Donna, she's saved her.”
“Save her? From what?” you asked, stopping, demanding answers.
“Mistress Donna was... She wasn't well... and... she tried something horrible,” the man explained, leaving you breathless, realizing what he meant.
“Gods,” you sighed, running a hand over your forehead and looking at the elevator that went up to the mansion. “Donna…”
“But don't worry, Miss, Mistress Donna is very well cared for, and besides, I've heard she'll soon be named Lord of the village. It's just what our little Donna deserves, don't you think?”
“Lord? Donna?” you asked, confused. “Gods, is that true?”
“Time will tell, Miss (Y/N)…”
Josef wasn't wrong.
A few days after that strange encounter, there was a mass, but not just any mass, a special mass, to introduce the newest Lord, the fourth pillar that held the village together and kept it under the protection of the Gods: Donna Beneviento.
You remember seeing her at mass, you remember the strange black veil she wore on her face. That day, all your memories came back to haunt you, guilt stabbing at you like a knife. You were the one to blame, you had done that to her.
Now she was powerful, untouchable, and respected. You could feel a little relief at seeing that justice had finally been served, but that feeling was mixed with a touch of fear. You knew the other Lords, you knew what they were capable of.
You were never especially brave; you were only brave when you had to protect her from bullies, when you had to face her crises. In everything else, you were as cowardly as the rest of the villagers.
It was difficult to accept that Donna had changed, that she would never again be the shy little girl who played with you on that old bench, that she would never again be the beautiful young woman who gave you a strange flutter in your stomach.
You had lost her forever, although you never fully accepted it.
You tried to live your life, experiencing one heartbreak after another. No one seemed enough for you. Every time you dared to fall in love, you suffered disappointment. You felt an unpleasant emptiness that prevented you from giving yourself completely to another person.
Two years after that revelation, in 1998, something disturbing happened.
Josef Simon, the Beneviento family's loyal gardener, disappeared under mysterious circumstances. You refused to believe it, denied the truth behind the rumors that Donna had killed him.
The fear this new Lord inspired grew, and legends about her powers and the danger posed by entering her territory began to be evident to the villagers. On one hand, you felt a certain satisfaction seeing how the strange girl everyone mocked now had control of their lives. Now they owed her respect.
The new millennium arrived soon after, but in that place, it didn't mean much more than a different, new year. Everything seemed to remain the same in the village; life passed slowly, and your solitude began to feel comforting.
You were incapable of truly loving anyone; something was holding you back, a feeling you thought you'd forgotten, but at the same time, you couldn't stop feeling. You never tried to cross that forest again, to talk to Donna, to ask her questions, to apologize. The rumors in the village kept you from doing so, but… years later, in 2001, something changed.
“Let's see…” you murmured as you organized your stuff.
After your parents’ death, the business and the house were yours, and you had a lot of things to organize before continuing the family tradition.
“Oh, wow,” you said, taking your old Judy doll, the one Donna's father had given you, out of a chest. “Hi, Judy,” you said amusedly, dusting the old doll, causing something to fall off.
You picked it up slowly, turning it over and discovering an old photograph of two smiling girls hugging each other, Donna and you.
(Y/N) and Donna, 1985
Seeing that photograph awakened something you thought was dormant, a feeling of nostalgia and desire that made you swallow and look toward your window, toward the path that led to the Lord’s mansion.
You were 29 years old, no longer a child, nor a teenager, you were an adult with your whole life ahead of you, but... you felt you had to do something to fix the mistakes of your past, to recover what you longed for.
“Okay, I have to do this,” you said, leaving your house, wrapping yourself up and walking toward the wooden gate, toward your best friend's land.
Everything around you was completely different. The plants Josef lovingly tended had become wild, dominant. The landscape seemed abandoned, decayed, terribly sad and dark.
Despite the chills running through your body, you decided to continue toward the mansion, desperately hoping not to end up like the villagers who entered that place, never to return.
With a strong urge to flee, you kept walking, stopping when you reached that old stone bench so iconic to your childhood, the place where you talked, laughed, and were with Donna.
Your steps slowed as, on the cold stone, sat a black figure, a ghostly figure that couldn't be anyone else: Donna.
“I was hoping you'd come someday.” A hoarse voice emerged from the dark figure, and the black veil danced as it moved toward you.
“Donna?” you asked, slowly approaching the bench. “Gods, is that you?”
“Will you sit with me, (Y/N)?” the husky voice asked, placing a hand at her side as you obeyed, suspicious.
“Donna... it... it's been a long time,” you said nervously, sitting away from her, who simply nodded.
“An eternity,” she murmured.
“I... I feel terrible about what happened. I didn't mean...” you began, stammering, your voice not wanting to leave your throat. “Oh, Donna...” you sighed, throwing yourself into her arms, feeling a nostalgic euphoria that forced you to act unconsciously.
The lady in black didn't return the hug, but you could hear a sigh coming from the black veil as she gently pushed you away.
“I'm sorry, it was disrespectful. After all, you're a Lord now,” you murmured, embarrassed. “It's been a long time, Donna.”
“Mm,” she murmured disinterestedly, playing with her hands in her lap. “You're all grown up now.”
“Yeah, well,” you said, pretending to laugh and shaking your head. “Hey, I... I tried to tell you this many years ago, but... I'm so sorry about what happened to your family.”
“They abandoned me, they left me alone,” she grunted, clenching her fists, her voice the same nervous one you remembered, but perhaps a little more worn from disuse.
“Yeah, and me... me too,” you said, ducking your head, terribly embarrassed and uncomfortable. “You don't know how sorry I am, Donna. I never wanted to...”
“Taci”
You obeyed, remaining silent, a tense and charged silence that became unbearable.
“It... it was my fault,” you whispered cautiously, shaking your head and holding onto the bench for comfort. “That day, in '87, I behaved like a spoiled brat.”
“You mean the day you kissed me?” Donna asked, turning abruptly, but making it impossible for you to see her face.
“Yes, I... I shouldn't have done it,” you apologized, gradually lowering your voice. “I was young and stupid and... I tried to fix it, but... you, you didn't want anything to do with me.”
“That's not true,” she whispered in a tired voice, turning away from you. “I've never forgotten you, (Y/N).”
“Me neither,” you admitted, looking up at the cloudy sky. “I came to see you three years ago, to try to get back what we had, but... I found Mother Miranda, and Josef told me that...”
“Basta,” Donna said nervously, shaking her head. “Y-You said you'd always protect me.”
“I know, and I'm sorry... but hey, you were the one who didn't want to see me, you were always running away from me,” you said, annoyed by that spiteful comment. “I tried to make things right, Donna, I tried.”
“But you failed,” the lady rebuked you, slowly standing up.
“That's not... Ugh,” you protested, crossing your arms. “What could I do if my best friend didn't want to talk to me?”
“Your best friend?” she asked in a stern tone, accentuated by her intimidating presence.
“Yes, my best friend, you always were, Donna,” you defended yourself, sighing in frustration. “You said it yourself: Nothing ever changes.”
“Mm,” she murmured, looking away, turning her back on you. “I have changed.”
With a slow gesture, she brought her hand to the black veil, slowly parting it, allowing you to see her wounded face, a face marred by a horrible scar where her useless eye was supposed to be. Despite everything, the first thing that came to your mind after that discovery was one word: beautiful.
“Gods...” you sighed approaching and placing a hand on her cheek, caressing it despite her trembling. “She did this to you, didn't she?”
“My face isn't the only thing that's changed,” she said, pulling away abruptly. “There are many things that will never be the same as before, (Y/N).”
“I think you're still beautiful,” you sighed with a tender smile, filled with nostalgia, affection, and something else you hadn't felt in too long: those tickles in your stomach.
“And you're still a complacent brat,” Donna whispered, slowly raising her gaze, keeping yours silent.
With a simultaneous gasp, you both threw yourself into each other's arms in a tight embrace, accompanied by soft sobs. Donna's lavender scent flooded your senses, and you buried yourself in her shoulder, feeling her warmth, the warmth of something beautiful that had disappeared years ago, but seemed closer than ever.
“(Y/N)... mi sei mancata,” she whispered in your ear, hurting you with her grip, not wanting to let you go as she sobbed, just like you.
“I've missed you too,” you whispered back, with a tender smile, feeling too comfortable in her arms.
“You understood me... Y-You haven't forgotten,” the lady said, wiping away a tear and slowly pulling away from that intoxicating embrace.
“Of course I haven’t,” you said firmly. “I could never forget you, Donna. Tell me, if... if you missed me so much... Why didn't you come for me? I was so worried about you…”
“I didn't dare do it,” she said, sitting back down, taking your hand, guiding you. “After what happened, I… wanted to, I felt the need to get away from you.”
“I-I understand, but… what about these years? You're a Lord now, you… you have nothing to fear, and…"
“You're wrong, (Y/N), I'm afraid… afraid of myself,” she explained in a sadder voice, playing with the veil in her hands. “When… I changed, when I became… what I am now… I couldn't control my powers. I wanted to call you, I wanted to run and beg you to come back to me, but I was afraid, (Y/N), I was terrified of hurting you.”
You nodded understandingly, placing a hand on her shoulder, but withdrawing it when you remembered something disturbing.
“You... your gardener, Josef... they say... they say...” you stammered, unsure of whether to talk about that subject.
“I killed him,” Donna confessed without much emotion, leaving you cold. “I don't regret doing it, I don't regret having... hurt people who wanted to attack me.”
“I... I-I don't know what to say, that's wrong, Donna,” you whispered, starting to get, honestly, scared.
“I know, but... I just... I've only hurt people who deserved it,” the lady said nervously, taking your hands again. “I would never hurt you, (Y/N), I've... I've spent a lot of time trying to control myself so... so I could be with you here, right now.”
“Donna, that's... a lot to process,” you confessed, pulling away. “You could have asked for my help, called me.”
“I didn't want to disturb you. You had your life and… Well, you're single now, but…”
“How do you know?” you asked curiously, exchanging fear for a mocking smile.
“I have my ways,” she said, winking at you. “Here we are now… I've been coming here every day for two years, dreaming of seeing you appear, like you always did.”
“Yes, the place where it all began, where a naughty little girl tried to steal your lollipop,” you said, reminiscing, looking at the old stone bench.
“I adored that naughty little girl,” she whispered with a nervous laugh, avoiding looking at you directly. “You were always my only friend, (Y/N).”
“Mm, always here, on this very bench,” you sighed, looking at the cracks that time had created in the decoration. “But… but it all ended here too, when… when I kissed you… I don't know what I was thinking… it was. It was a mistake.”
“It wasn't for me,” Donna said sharply, hardening her gaze, holding yours again, causing something to form between you, a pleasant feeling you hadn't felt since that time your lips brushed against hers.
You wanted to speak, to say something, to confess that deep down, it did mean something to you, but you could only open your mouth, closing it after a few seconds.
“It wasn't for me either, Donna, even though I insisted on believing otherwise,” you managed to say, making her sad gaze return to yours, but she looked away instantly. “Who am I kidding... it was all my fault, I... I had so many friends that... for a moment I thought I'd forgotten you, although in reality... I never really did.”
“Me neither,” the brunette whispered, both of you looking away again, staring at some nonexistent place. “You... your memories are what brought me where I am now, you know?”
“Hmm? Being a Lord?” you asked amused.
“No,” she laughed tenderly, shaking her head. “I remember crying and screaming because I was lonely. When I was having a breakdown, you... your memories were the only thing that calmed me. I imagined you were there, holding me, comforting me, telling me everything would be okay. You weren't by my side, but I could feel you, I could feel you protecting me.”
“I really could have, Donna,” you said in a serious tone, moving a little closer to her, to that addictive lavender scent.
“I guess I was always stubborn,” the lady sobbed, wiping away a tear. “When Mother Miranda adopted me, I... I really didn't... I didn't want to live,” she confessed, causing a sad sigh to pass through your lungs. “I believed the world would be better without me, that no one needed a crazy ventriloquist... I let my life slip through my fingers, closing my eyes, and then she arrived.”
“Mother Miranda,” you murmured. You were never her most devoted follower, of course.
“Mm,” Donna nodded, biting her lip. “I wanted to tell her to let me die so I could return to my family, to my little sister, but... but then... I thought... I thought of you, (Y/N),” she said, with a disconcerting look. “I remembered those moments in our lives when we weren't alone. I remembered your hugs, your protection...”
You smiled, shaking your head.
“(Y/N), I wanted to live. I accepted the gift from Mother Miranda and the Gods because... if I had died that day, I would never have been able to see you again. I wouldn't be here, seeing the beautiful woman you've become.”
“That's nice, Donna, you always were a romantic girl,” you joked, nudging her boldly.
“Not the way I would have liked,” she murmured in a very low voice.
“I-I should go,” you finally said, after another comfortable silence. “I'm glad to see you, Donna, but I have errands to do.”
“Un... un attimo, (Y/N),” she said, interrupting your departure for the village. “Will you come back someday?”
“Um... I...” You hesitated, but something drew you, something irresistible that made you smile sincerely and nod. “Of course, I'll see you again tomorrow.”
And so it was. Every day you crossed that dangerous territory to reunite with your old friend. The conversations were somewhat awkward at first. Donna Beneviento certainly wasn't the same for many reasons, but deep down, you still saw in her the sweet little girl who was afraid of everything.
Those visits became a pleasant routine that mutated into laughter, experiences, and memories. It became easier and easier to look at that beautiful woman and smile while doing so.
Months passed and everything continued wonderfully and harmoniously, until suddenly, the dollmaker's attitude changed.
Madness stalked her at very specific moments, when you had to leave. You could see the pain in her eye, the desperation that made her believe that if you left, you'd never return. You couldn't blame her for that; you, too, felt sad to be leaving her side.
“Hanna Petrescu?” you commented, amused, while sharing tea with Donna in her old mansion, one that time hadn't passed by. “She didn't do so well, to be honest. She got pregnant by Marius Doric at 16, and I think she's a family woman now.”
“Mm, it seems she didn't deserve to be happy,” Donna commented with a sinister smile, rejoicing in the bullie misfortune.
“You were right, Donna, she was an idiot,” you said, blowing on your teacup. “You were always right... It didn't go so well for me either, to be honest.”
“W-Well... you didn't get pregnant,” she commented innocently, pointing at your belly, clumsily trying to joke.
“No, of course,” you laughed, shaking your head in amusement. “But... even though I can't complain... I've never... well, I've never been truly happy, you know?”
“I don't understand,” Donna whispered, putting her cup down and blinking in confusion. “You deserved to be happy.”
“I'm not so sure,” you sighed, leaning back on the old couch. “I've spent my whole life searching for someone, a true love who would understand me, who would complete me, but look at me, 29 years old and I'm still single.”
“I-I find that hard to believe. You're beautiful,” she said, her voice timid, with a thick accent that betrayed her nervousness.
“Mm, I've always... I've always felt like something was missing, like a part of me I was looking for in other people,” you explained, beginning, with the time you spent with her, to understand what it was that you were missing, what you longed for so much.
“I'm sure... that you'll find it,” Donna said in a somewhat passive tone, looking away from you with a sigh. “I assure you, whoever dares to hurt you, will pay, (Y/N).”
“Oh, so now you're protecting me, huh?” you joked, making the lady in black smile and her cheeks blush slightly. “I like the idea, Donna, a change is nice.”
“(Y/N),” she murmured suddenly, taking your cup from your hands and placing it on the table. “Nothing ever changes. I-I've always felt you by my side, protecting me even when you weren't around. I... I've always... I've felt the same way about you.”
“Donna,” you sighed, leaning closer, letting her hands caress your face erratically. “I think I know what it is I'm missing.”
“What is it?” Donna asked in a whisper, briefly directing her gaze to your lips, her body trembling with nerves due to the closeness.
“I've always missed you,” you said, also looking at her lips, moving closer as if a strange force were pushing you, as if invisible hands were guiding your head towards her, slowly placing your lips on hers.
A sigh escaped her mouth as that kiss ran through your entire body, sending shivers through your limbs, a comfortable and pleasant burning in your stomach, in your chest.
A soft sound interrupted that kiss, as if your lips refused to separate completely. Your eyes were closed, your foreheads pressed together, your skin burning against each other.
“(Y/N),” the brunette whispered, without breaking contact, without opening her eye. “Please tell me this kiss meant something to you, that it wasn't some kind of game.”
“No, Donna, it was never a game to me,” you whispered back. “If there's one thing I regret in all these years, it's… not telling you the truth about that kiss, about what it meant to me, what it means right now… I was so young, and so stupid…”
“I was so in love with you,” she sighed, kissing you briefly again. “I still am, I always will be, (Y/N).”
“Nothing ever changes, does it?” you said, letting a tear form a salty taste in another, deeper kiss. “Maybe… maybe it's not too late to… to love each other, Donna.”
“No, it's not too late,” she denied, continuing to kiss you, slowly, enjoying the contact. “I can't bear to see you leave. I-I can't bear it, amore mio… Stay with me, I beg you…”
“I… I can't do it, Donna,” you said, making her face crumble instantly, held by a gentle caress of your fingers. “I couldn't leave you again, ever.”
The sadness, the fear turned into a radiant smile, followed by kisses, hugs, whispers, apologies, and a joy that fueled the fire burning inside you, and that you learned to ignore.
“Well, it's about time!” a shrill voice startled you, making you go completely pale.
“Yiaaah!” you squealed as you saw something crawling onto the couch, the Angie doll, Donna's old, inseparable doll that moved on its own. “What the…? Angie?”
“It's not just me who's changed, (Y/N),” Donna said, helping you up with a tender smile. “But don't worry, she'll protect you too.”
So, I was thinking about little dark g!p Donna x fem reader, and like reader live in village her whole life, and one day she went to the church yk, and Donna can't keep her eyes off her, she literally fell in love with her, so Donna was insecure about herself so she just watch her, admire her (stalk) from afar... One day she gets hurt somehow so Donna save her, offer her a new home....
After some time, they became really close, but donna's feelings just became more stronger so she started giving her a small poets to express her love, and when y/n mention she's in love with someone, Donna lose her mind thinking her only true love, love someone else so she's just distance herself.
Y/n notice, so she tried to talk about it with Donna, and then Donna just crush out and say something like "DO YOU REALLY WANT TO KNOW WHY? BECAUSE I FUCKING LOVE YOU AND I CANT IMAGINE LIFE WITHOUT YOU"
and theeen they kisssss, and Donna ping y/n against a wall yk what I mean💋
SORRY IF THIS IS COMPLICATED, ALSO I HOPE U UNDERSTAND, I AM STILL TRYING TO IMPROVE MY ENGLISH
Also A little late but happy birthday to you !
Yess!!! Hello again, friend :D!!! Thank you for your request and words!! You're so kind!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!!! :))))
A dark angel
Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem!! Reader
Warnings: G!P Donna, smut, Minors DNI, angst, dark themes, dark Donna, Donna's POV
Word count: 8,693
Summary: I love her, but she'll never be mine...
N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open!!! I'm waiting yours!!!I love you all!!!
Always the same prayers, the same gestures…
My siblings and I remained silent behind the shadow of the woman who gave us a second chance without asking our permission.
Lords, protectors, monsters… The ways those villagers called us repeated themselves in my head like terrifying whispers. I never liked people, I never liked company.
No matter how hard I tried to force myself to believe that something had changed after Mother Miranda's intervention, I was only fooling myself.
Despite being Lord, gaining terrifying powers, eternal life, and being embraced by the infinite kindness of the black priestess, I never felt different. Before, I was Donna Beneviento, the only surviving daughter of a noble family who had lost her mind; now I was Donna Beneviento, Lord of the village, doll, and nightmare maker.
I knew what people said about me, the fear my presence generated, the doubts in their eyes when they looked at me, when they saw the black veil covering my shame. They said I was a monster, and no matter how many times I looked in the mirror, the scar on my face spoke for itself.
Maybe my sick mind found some pleasure in the change, thinking that Mother Miranda's divine intervention was a good thing, something that would allow me to stop being that sad and lonely woman, but I was wrong.
Perhaps it would have been better if the priestess had let me die that day; at least that way, I could be with my family again, with my little sister. But the Gods had other plans for me. They played on my insecurities, changed my body at will, but, again, I couldn't complain; I had a new family.
Being Lady Beneviento really wasn't so bad. I had everything I wanted, even though I never asked for it. My doll Angie came to life, and I had the power to play with mortals if I got bored.
But something inside my head begged, pleaded for something more, something to end this eternal loneliness.
“Well, my children, before we return to our duties, there was someone who wanted to make an announcement, isn't that right?” Mother Miranda's different tone brought me out of my thoughts.
The sound of footsteps on the altar was the signal I was waiting for to leave that place and return to my quiet, solitary routine, but something stopped me, something prevented my legs from moving.
“Yes. Thank you, Mother Miranda,” a sweet voice penetrated my ears and made me turn my head sharply with curiosity.
“Mm,” the priestess murmured, stepping back a little to allow me to see where that heavenly voice was coming from.
One step, two... Little by little, something rose toward the altar, something that... was, without a doubt, the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.
A young woman, no more than twenty years old, stood in the middle of the place, allowing me to see, something that kept me standing still, frozen: her face, her hair, a nervous look... Something beautiful, truly beautiful.
Her dress moved with her steps, and hands that seemed tremendously soft played nervously. A beautiful girl, the most beautiful girl I had ever seen, stood inches away from me.
I didn't know every single villager, but... how could I not realize that such incredible beauty existed? My mind began to study her delicate body, the perfume emanating from her hair, her bright, dazzling eyes…
“Well, you know me, I'm (Y/N),” the young girl began, causing my mind to process her name, dazzling with her gentle words. “I just wanted to announce that I finally have enough materials to start my artisanal tea business,” she explained, the trembling of her hands betraying her shyness.
After the silent approval of the rest of the villagers, the girl took a small tea bag out of her pocket, waving it playfully.
“Um… it took me a long time to get everything I needed, and I hope you all can enjoy it,” she continued, but I was no longer listening.
My eyes studied every curve of her body, her chest. My hands longed to caress that silky mane, my ears longed to hear her voice every day, every hour, every minute, every second.
Everything blurred around me, except for her, an angel in the darkness, beauty standing out among the monsters.
A cold draft made me shake my head slightly and frown. My body felt light and my hands empty. When I woke from that little reverie, I realized the problem.
“Oh, tell me, silly, do you give away free samples?” a familiar voice said, my doll Angie, who, surely taking advantage of my absentmindedness, jumped out of my arms and ran toward the girl, snatching the tea bag she was waving.
I grew nervous, walking quickly toward the puppet, who laughed amusedly while the young woman backed away in fear.
“Look, Donna, look what I have,” Angie said, running towards me again, proudly displaying her trophy.
“Angie, give it back to her,” I whispered, picking up the tea and making a show of giving it back, hiding the trembling in my own hands.
“Oh no, well...” she said, looking directly at me with a fake, nervous, scared smile. “Please keep it, my lady.” Her hands traveled to mine, gently pushing them against my chest.
Her touch frightened me, causing me to push that softness away from my hands with a gasp. Her fingers burned against my skin, teasingly tickling my body. I couldn't bear it with fortitude. I was scared. I was scared to have her so close to me, to feel her skin against mine.
“I'm sorry,” (Y/N) apologized, taking a step back, confused by my attitude, or perhaps scared to know who she had touched.
I glanced at the small bag trembling in my hands, and with no other choice, I nodded imperceptibly, finally stepping down from the altar, unable to avoid giving that beautiful girl one last look.
Despite Angie commenting on every detail of the mass, as always, the walk back to the mansion was silent for me. My doll's voice didn't reach my ears; my senses were too busy remembering, re-forming (Y/N)'s image in my mind.
“Hey, silly Donna! Are you listening to me?” the doll asked as I set her down on the floor, finally reaching the safety of my old mansion. “Donna!”
“Silenzio,” I ordered with a growl, pushing the veil away from my face. “Will you be quiet for a moment?”
“Quiet? You silly Donna...” the doll hissed, making me glance at her briefly in reprimand.
Nothing, I didn't want anything, or anyone to stop my mind from thinking about her, that tea girl.
Sighing, I sank into a dining room chair, the tea bag in my hands. I brought it to my nose, inhaling the sweet scent of wild berries, bringing an involuntary smile to my face. She smelled the same; it was like holding her in my hands.
“You're welcome for the free sample,” Angie mocked, climbing onto the table and observing my strange behavior.
“She was beautiful...” I sighed unwillingly, smiling like a little girl, closing my eye to remember the sparkle in hers, her every gesture.
“Mm? What? What are you talking about?” the doll asked, comically tilting her head and gesturing with her hands. “Uh, Donna, ciao, ciao...”
“Ugh, I mean her,” I whispered, moving the bag in my hands, feeling the touch, imagining that those soft fingers had been in the same place. “T-The tea girl...”
“Oh, that silly village girl,” the puppet laughed sinisterly. “It was fun scaring her a little, wasn't it?”
“No, Angie, you shouldn't scare people,” I stammered, blinking erratically, confused by my reaction. “Not her.”
“Uh-Oh...” Angie murmured, moving a little closer to me. “Donna, Donna... you like her, don't you?”
“No, I...” I said awkwardly in my defense. “W-Well, she's beautiful, don't you think?”
“I don't know. I'm just a doll, and you're a fool,” she scolded, pointing at me with a wooden finger. “How can you like her? You barely knew she existed.”
“I don't know, but... she's so beautiful,” I sighed, resting my head on one hand, staring at the ceiling, like a child in love, my heart beating too fast. “She has a beautiful voice and...”
“Uh, uh, uh,” Angie interrupted, gesturing with her hands. “Stop, Donna, you're rambling, she's just another village girl.”
I shook my head, suffering an attack of rationality in my mind, as if I had woken from a deep sleep.
“Certo,” I finally said, standing up slowly. “You're right, Angie, it's nonsense.”
“Listen to your favorite doll, you know she's always right,” Angie emphasized, giving me a mocking pat on the back. “Maybe you need some company... why don't you call Alcina? You know she always has a maid for you...”
Angie's suggestion was always an easy way to forget, to let off steam, to feel falsely loved for a moment, a feeling that disappeared too soon, but it worked at least to soothe my needs.
But on that occasion, I found it repugnant, undignified. No, there was no maid in the castle as beautiful as the tea girl; none had that sweet voice, that dazzling gaze.
“No, I don't feel like it,” I said, frowning and shaking my head.
“As you wish,” Angie said, stepping down from the table with a gesture of indifference.
“I think I'll make some tea,” I said with a different, animated smile.
I longed to try that infusion, to know what that young woman from the church was capable of, if her products had the same beauty, the same harmony as her.
The sweet and bitter taste of the tea ran down my throat like a love potion, like a heavenly ambrosia that transported me back to her. In the dregs, I could see her smile, her gaze, but that wasn't necessarily a good thing.
My mind was unable to calm down when something disturbed it. My illness made me hear voices, wails, words of love that didn't exist.
I thought maybe those thoughts would disappear with time, just like when a maid pretended to be affectionate with me and I believed I might have a chance.
I'd stopped thinking that way years ago, resigned myself to loving and being loved in the same way, but I knew the feeling, the trembling of my hands when I thought of her, the smile that involuntarily formed on my lips when I remembered her.
I couldn't forget her. I couldn't stop thinking about her, about the taste of her tea. My body began to miss the sweetness of wild berries, pushing me to crave, to desperately crave that warmth running down my throat again.
Of course, I knew what my body wanted, and it wasn't tea. I wasn't interested in that liquid; I was interested in (Y/N), and I couldn't help it. I couldn't stop the sight of her eyes appearing in every doll I made, the struggle of my mind to capture her beauty in my creations so I'd never forget her.
Hardly aware of it, the obsession began to play tricks on me.
Some nights I would let myself go, relaxing with the slow, gentle touch of my hands as I closed my eye or just looked through some old clothing catalog.
The rosy-cheeked models posing there seemed to be moving, their hands replacing mine as they slowly stimulated my penis in the solitude of my bedroom.
But the made-up smiles of those girls distorted as my arousal grew and my breathing quickened. The polished nails of the hands I imagined surrounding my erection dissolved like dust, changing completely.
“Cazzo...” I protested as my mind began to form new images in my head: new hands, a new smile looking down at me, whispering to me, masturbating me.
I even thought I could smell the tea as my panting increased. It was her, the girl from the church, moving her hand up and down my body, maintaining a frantic rhythm that made me squirm. Those eyes looked at me, that sweet voice whispered words of love, of desire…
I wanted to stop, I wanted to free my mind from that impossible image, to return to the fantasies of the girls in the catalog, but I couldn't. I groaned, I protested, but I couldn't shake the shivers that ran down my spine, feeling that the end was irrevocably closer.
Finally, I released myself into my hand, feeling the wet heat of my seed on my skin, dripping through my fingers. I opened my eye, trying to catch my breath, and for a moment, just for a moment, I thought I saw her, (Y/N), in front of me, biting her lip, moaning, writhing.
Shaking my head, I got out of bed, going to the bathroom to wash the remnants of my undignified release from my hands, and the remnants of my thoughts about her from my mind. The cold water cleared my mind, but my gaze in the mirror spoke for itself.
Images of that tea girl beneath my body appeared next to my deformed face, invisible moans echoed off the walls, and my mind began to wonder, to think about what it would be like to make something so beautiful mine.
“How disgusting,” a shrill voice distracted me from my fantasies. Of course, Angie always appeared at the worst possible moment. “Are you finished? I wish I could go to sleep.”
“You can't sleep,” I whispered, clearing my throat and drying my hands, ignoring the doll. “Lasciami, Angie”
“Oh, sorry, Your Majesty,” she continued mockingly, following me back into the bedroom. “What's wrong with you? You've been acting really weird lately. Weirder than usual, I mean.”
“Weird? Me? I don't know why you're saying that,” I protested, plopping down on my desecrated bed, followed closely by my irreverent doll.
“You don't have to say anything. I know everything, remember?” Angie said, sitting uncomfortably next to me, her eyes scrutinizing me, as if I should feel guilty about something. “It's that girl again. You’re obsessed...”
“What do you care?” I asked, offended, annoyed to admit that, once again, she was right.
“I don't care,” she replied, crossing her arms. “But I think you're an idiot.”
“Va bene, lasciami estare,” I hissed, turning off the dim light in the room, trying to ignore Angie's voices, and the ones in my head. “Ugh, Angie...” I protested again when the doll turned the small lamp back on.
“Hey, if you like that girl so much, why don't you do something about it?” she suggested, involuntarily capturing my attention.
“Cosa?” I asked, sitting up in bed and bringing my knees to my chest. “I-I can't do anything.”
“Of course you can. She's still a silly village girl, and you're a lord, remember?” the doll said in a mocking tone, making me sigh thoughtfully.
“Th-That doesn't mean anything,” I murmured, feeling a wave of sadness over me.
“It doesn’t?”
“Of course! Look at me!” I shouted furiously, irrationally, pointing at my deformed face, the face of a monster. “What chance does a freak like me have?! She's beautiful, and I'm... a... a... a...”
“Okay, shut up,” the puppet ordered me.
“Angie, you're trying my patience too hard,” I threatened in a dark tone, something that, of course, didn't bother the doll in the least.
“Fine, whatever you want, keep playing with your little thing and feeling sorry for yourself, you bore me, silly Donna,” Angie sighed, getting out of bed, ready to abandon me.
“Angie...” I sobbed, starting to feel really bad, a feeling of frustration rushing over me without warning. “I'm not okay.”
“What a surprise.”
“I see her everywhere... I... dream about her, I imagine her while...” I began to confess, giving in to my irrational feelings. “I feel her, I smell the scent of her tea every second, I... I can't get her smile out of my head...”
“Then do something,” the doll said indifferently, climbing back into bed.
“N-No... I can't, I don't dare to,” I admitted cowardly, hiding my face between my knees. “I've never...”
“Who said you have to dare?”
“Cosa vuoi dire?” I asked, confused.
“I mean... well, why settle for seeing her in your thoughts when you can do it in reality?” Angie explained, leaving me even more lost.
“You mean... watching her?” I asked again, frowning and looking away. “That's not...”
“Not, what?” the doll insisted, moving closer to me, placing her wooden hands on my shoulders. “That silly girl is still a villager, it's not like she's out of your reach...”
“What are you implying?”
“I'm not implying anything. I'm just telling you what to do,” she said in a supple, haughty tone. “And you know I always give you good advice.”
“So, what do you think I should do?” I asked impatiently, crossing my arms.
“What you do best, dear Donna, lurk in the shadows...”
Angie's advice seemed childish. Lurk in the shadows? Stalk (Y/N)? Watch her? How stupid.
At least that's what I thought for a few insignificant minutes. Then, I began to see some clarity in her words. I could try with all my might, but that girl would never feel anything for me, I knew that well. No one had ever felt anything for me, at least not something they weren't forced to pretend.
The idea of romance, of having someone to love, someone who would love me, sounded great, but as time passed, I began to forget it, to feel like it wasn't meant for me, that I didn't have the right to experience true love. My deformity, my different body, kept me from being a normal woman, someone a girl like (Y/N) would want to meet.
I knew it from the moment I was entranced by her gaze, by her smile. I could only imagine her, admire her from afar, never in any other way. Angie could be many things, but above all, she was a part of me, a part of my consciousness that I separated from my body, thanks to the Gods.
The idea seemed dark, but the more I thought about it, the more light illuminated my mind. Yes, the only thing I could do was not to forget her, strive to get to know her without her knowing, observe her movements in the darkness, hidden.
I wanted to know everything about her. I wanted to know what she liked, the things she hated and loved, how she walked, how she spoke, how she dressed, how she lived. The obsession didn't improve—quite the opposite—but I know it was only my fault.
Every day I walked towards the village, hiding from the gaze of others, from their shining eyes. I felt safe in the shadows.
I learned a lot from you, you know?
I knew that (Y/N) liked to sew, I knew what books she read, what face she had when she fell asleep by the warmth of a small fireplace. The smell of that delicious tea accompanied me in my observations, and my fantasies turned into increasingly vivid dreams.
I knew her routine, the small shop where she sold her tea, the exact steps from her house to her work. I began to lose my mind. Sheets of old paper began to fill with notes about (Y/N). I didn't want to forget every discovery, every new aspect I saw in her.
I thought I knew her, but it was only an illusion. My hidden body deeply longed to be discovered, longed for those beautiful eyes to look at me, but it never happened. I didn't want to be seen, I didn't want her to see the figure peering through her window, the ghost of the woman who haunted her without her knowing.
My conscience would attack me from time to time, making me feel guilty for chasing her, for harassing her. But then she would appear, dispelling any doubts with her kind smile, her polite, somewhat shy voice.
I had to feel bad, but I was unable to.
The nights were even worse. I stopped visiting the castle maids and their false, cold warmth, starting to enjoy my memories, my imagination. Thinking of her, of her hands touching me, of her body embracing mine, making her mine, was enough to calm my impulses.
But the more I did it, the worse I felt. I felt like those hands would never surround me, that the warmth of her naked body would never come close to mine, that her lips would never kiss me.
I had to acknowledge reality, but I couldn't. The crises changed. I no longer lamented my pathetic existence, but my inability to approach that girl without trembling, to do anything other than stalk her or lurk in the shadows.
It was unbearable, but it was an addiction I couldn't break.
Spying, studying, observing, thinking, imagining, touching myself, ejaculating, sleeping, and repeating, became a painful and inevitable routine that stretched on for too long.
“Che bella sei...” I murmured, watching your smile as (Y/N) attended the villagers, the gestures she made.
“Uhg,” Angie protested, turning away with a tired sigh. “Donna, I'm starting to get tired of this.”
“Your smile is beautiful...” I sighed again, dazzled by her beauty, blushing as I hid behind some trees. “Ti amo, (Y/N)...”
“Okay, okay, enough,” the doll interrupted, standing in front of my field of vision, obscuring her image. “Donna, basta.”
“Get out of the way, I can't see her,” I protested, gently slapping the doll and positioning myself on that distant bench.
“What? Are you hard already? Are you going to take it out and jerk it off out here? ” Angie said in a nasty tone, forcing me to tear my gaze away from (Y/N)'s beauty and growl at my friend.
“Ma che volgare, Angie,” I snapped, disgusted by her hurtful insinuations. “What's that about?”
“Donna, I'm sick of coming here day after day to stare at that silly girl and watch you lose your mind,” she said, climbing onto my lap with an authoritarian pose. “You're pathetic.”
“What? Take that back,” I threatened, pushing her off my body, starting to get dangerously nervous. “Take it back...” I growled darkly, standing up.
“Never,” the doll sighed, unfazed by my attitude. “Stupida”
“Non...” I hissed, my breathing becoming dangerously faster. No, I couldn't argue with the doll so close to her; she'd see us, everyone would notice. “Cavolo, Angie, this was your idea.”
“Yes, I thought you'd calm down a bit,” she replied, gesturing indifferently. “But I can see you haven't. You're losing your mind, much more than usual.”
“So what do you want me to do? I... I love her...” I said in a softer, submissive tone, sinking back onto the bench. “I can't do anything but admire her from afar, dream that one day she could be mine and...”
“Wake up, silly Donna,” the puppet interrupted, climbing into my lap and smacking me on the head, making me groan again. “Stop fooling around and act at once.”
“I've already told you, Angie, there's no way she'll notice someone like me, much less love me,” I sighed, on the verge of sobbing, feeling the fabric of my black veil dampen with my tears.
“That's nonsense,” the doll replied, shaking her head. “You're a lord, remember? You don't need her to love you.”
“I don't like what you're implying,” I whispered, confused, but knowing what her intentions were.
“Fine, but you have no choice,” she said, comically crossing her arms. “You can have whatever you want, Donna, whoever you want. She's just a simple villager; you shouldn't care about her feelings. You want it? Then take it.”
“Do you want me to kidnap her?” I asked, thoughtfully. “Th-That's not romantic at all. I don't think...”
“Do you love her?”
“Yes, of course I do,” I replied, nodding, nerves running through my body. “I love her more than anything.”
“Then take her, make her yours, she can't say no. You're her owner,” the doll finished, getting off my lap and pointing at the store. “You'd like it, wouldn't you? For her to kiss you, to caress you, to feel her close to you...”
I just nodded, imagining it all in my mind, what it would be like, how it could be so real and no longer be a fantasy. A sinister smile spread across my face.
“Yes, I would like it.”
“Then do it, silly Donna, take that stupid girl with you. She won't be able to refuse. You could make her suck you off whenever you want and...”
“Angie, please, don't... don't make it look dirty. I-I want to be romantic, to love and take care of her... She couldn't refuse me, could she? I could make her truly love me...” I rambled, slowly getting up, playing with my hands, which, for some reason, were starting to sweat.
“Oh, yes, of course, dear Donna, she'd be yours and only yours. You just have to... well, take her. Easy peasy, right?”
“Yes...” I sighed, my gaze fixed on the snow, drowning out the images of (Y/N)'s screams as I kidnapped her against her will. Those screams would turn into moans, I was sure of it. “But... but how do we do it?”
“Follow me. I have a plan,” Angie said, walking closer to the store, too close.
“Angie, what...?” I asked as I followed her, not realizing I'd already entered the artisan shop, and had found something beautiful, her gaze upon mine.
“My lady,” (Y/N) said, giving a small bow without taking her gaze from mine. “I was waiting for you to come.”
“D-davvero?” I stammered unconsciously. I think she heard me, because she frowned, confused.
“I'm sorry, but... I don't understand you,” she said kindly, without removing that smile from her face. “Was that Italian? Gods, I had no idea you...”
I knew that smile.
“Yes, yes, yes, whatever you say, silly girl,” Angie interrupted, comically climbing up onto the counter. “You were waiting for us, huh?”
“Um, well… I remember that I offered you some of my tea, and I was worried.”
“You were worried,” I sighed, my voice imperceptible to her until I cleared my throat. “Perché?”
“Um... well,” (Y/N) stammered, visibly nervous. “The truth is, I was worried that my tea wouldn't be to your liking, Lady Beneviento.”
“The tea was fine, or so Donna says,” Angie said, amused, fussing with the things on the counter.
“I'm glad to hear that, my... lady,” the girl murmured, still nervous, with that tremble in her voice that betrayed a certain fear of my presence.
You'll be more afraid, little bird.
“Oh, um... are you interested in buying something? Don't worry, I have special prices for distinguished customers.” Her merchant's tone pierced my ears, detecting a hint of falseness, of discomfort.
“Yes, yes... tell me, silly, where do you get your herbs?” the puppet interrupted again, discreetly gesturing for me to let her speak.
“Well, the wild plants here offer a lot of possibilities, but I'm afraid there isn't much variety,” (Y/N) explained, while Angie studied the tea bags.
“I see... that's because you haven't ventured into the western forest, huh?” Angie continued, while I marveled at her gaze.
“Mm, no, well... that's your territory, isn't it, Lady Beneviento?” she asked me in a doubtful tone, to which I nodded elegantly. “I wouldn't want to trespass on your property, my lady.”
“Nonsense,” Angie said, dismissing it with a wave of her hand. “Donna wouldn't mind you gathering some herbs to continue making that delicious tea, would you, Donna?”
“Mm,” I murmured, beginning to understand the doll's plan. She was certainly clever, too clever.
“Oh, well... I appreciate it because I was starting to have stock issues and... if... if that's okay with you... I'll stop by there, I'll try not to disturb you.”
“Va bene,” I said formally, hiding the trembling in my hands as I turned around. “I'll take four bags.”
“Perfect... thank you, thank you very much, my lady.”
It certainly seemed like a good plan. She'd just have to come to me, to my territory. Once she crossed the bridge, it would be the end, and my beginning. I resisted doing it, but I had to admit Angie had a great idea.
I just had to wait for that little bird to fall into my net.
“There she is,” I said, excited to see (Y/N) appear out of the snow after a long few days of waiting.
“Yeah, I see,” the doll said as we hid behind an old wall. “Okay, we just have to wait until she's distracted and... boom! You'd have that pussy just for you.”
“Angie...” I hissed at that vulgarity, and the sinister laugh that accompanied it. “I told you to not to talk about her like that. She'd be my girlfriend, not a whore, do you understand?”
“Whatever," the doll whispered. “Look, she turned around... she looks scared.”
“I'm not surprised,” I sighed, a pang of sadness in my chest.
Could she really love me? Could I force her to do it? I was desperate; I couldn't do anything else. She'd be mine, no matter what.
(Y/N) walked slowly, cautiously, probably afraid of the rumors circulating about me in the village, about how dangerous it was to enter my territory and the high probability of never returning.
After a sigh, seeing that there was no danger, the young woman began to examine the bushes there, looking for herbs for her tea, wild plants that I knew didn't exist, at least not in the way she thought, or Angie made her think.
“Now,” I growled, emerging from my hiding place and clenching my fists as Angie followed close behind, laughing sinisterly. “You're mine now...”
I walked slowly toward the girl, who seemed quite distracted, vulnerable. My mouth watered, imagining all the things we would do, how much we would love each other, everything I had planned for my girlfriend, my wife, my eternal lover.
But suddenly, (Y/N) gasped in fear.
I stopped, thinking maybe I'd given myself away, that she'd heard me.
No, don't run away, little one, don't run away from me...
I blinked in relief to see her gaze directed not at where I was standing, but in the opposite direction. Her legs moved, starting to back away, and a growl began to echo through the snowy forest.
One of Moreau's hideous creatures emerged from the trees, one ironically named Vârcolac, the local term for "werewolf." It was a deformed, rabid dog that was slowly approaching the young woman.
All my senses were on alert, but when I started to run, it was too late.
A scream of pain was the next thing I heard. That ferocious beast had pounced on (Y/N), its teeth sinking into the skin of her arm, causing her beautiful blood to spill into the snow.
I rushed forward as fast as I could, rabid, snarling with rage. No, that beast couldn't take her away from me; she was mine.
“Basta!” I shrieked furiously, standing in front of the creature, which released the arm of the young woman, who was crying in terror. “Go away!”
I knew the influence we had on those creatures; I expected obedience, and I got it. But no, it wasn't enough. That thing had hurt my beloved, and it would have to pay. The rabid dog began to whimper, to cry in suffering as I focused on making it pay.
“Gods...” (Y/N) whispered, pulling away, dragging herself through the snow with her injured arm. “Gods...”
Hearing her addictive voice, I stopped, leaving the Vârcolac alone, which fled with agonized wails, never to return.
“(Y/N)… are you okay?” I asked, crouching down next to the young woman. “Cavolo, what was that thing doing here?” As I asked, I looked at Angie, who just shrugged.
“M-My arm,” (Y/N) stammered, holding her wound. “It hurts,” she complained, writhing in pain.
“Relax, you're safe now,” I whispered, unable to believe what had just happened, soothing (Y/N)'s pain with my powers, making her gaze relax before she fainted. “You're with me now…”
Those were my last words before picking her up and taking her home, to her new home.
Healing her was simple, but watching her sleep… it was complicated. My body was asking me to do things I'm ashamed of, but luckily, I was stronger than my impulses. I treated and washed her wound while whispering words of love to her, knowing she couldn't hear me.
“Well...” Angie said, climbing into the bed. “Everything went much better than I expected.”
“Better? Cazzo... Angie, tell me you have nothing to do with the Vârcolac,” I growled nervously.
“Of course I haven’t. That slimy fish should have better control over his creatures, but hey, it came in handy,” the doll said, looking at the unconscious (Y/N).
“Handy? She... she's hurt... I was about to lose her and...” I said nervously, gently stroking the girl's silky hair, intoxicated by her tea scent.
“Don't be silly, this was the best thing that could have happened to you, Donna. You didn't have to kidnap her, you saved her life. Of course, it's much better,” the doll explained, making me realize that, once again, she was right.
“Mm... Mm...” a murmur escaped the young woman's lips, causing my head to snap towards her. “Where... Where am I?”
“You're safe, in my house,” I explained softly, continuing to stroke her hair.
(Y/N) winced slightly before rubbing her eyes with her good arm, positioning herself, noticing who was beside her.
“Lady Beneviento,” she whispered weakly, her eyes wide open, watching me.
Then it hit me. My hand went to my face, and I didn't notice the black cloth that used to cover it, but my skin. I'd forgotten about the veil, I was so afraid of losing you…
“Mannaggia…” I lamented, getting up to escape this situation. I wasn't ready to show her my hideous face, not yet.
“W-Wait…” the girl interrupted, reaching for my wrist, preventing me from moving with her burning touch. “Wait, please.”
“You shouldn't have seen me, (Y/N),” I whispered, struggling not to fall into her sweet grasp.
“No, I... it's fine, my lady... I like to put a face to my guardian angel,” she commented with a warm smile, making me look back at her slowly, to see the sincerity of her misguided words.
“I'm not an angel,” I murmured, removing her tempting hand from me, walking away from the bed.
“Well...” she said, painfully sitting down on the bed, still staring at me, scrutinizing my deformed features. “You look like an angel to me.”
“You're wrong,” I said frowning, but turning completely around.
(Y/N) shrugged with a sleepy smile, lying back down.
“Thank you,” she whispered, falling asleep again, forcing my weak body to move closer to her. “Thank you for saving my life.”
“I... don't,” I murmured, sitting next to her and looking at the bandage on her arm. “Y-You should rest.”
“Mm,” she gestured again. “I’m a little dizzy… I don’t think I can go home now…”
“No,” I said tersely, shaking my head. “You have to stay here, with me… erm… you must stay, and you can do it… as long as you want…”
“Mm… yes, you’re an angel…”
Her voice was sleepy due to my powers, but it was still divine, heavenly. She was no longer talking to herself or a client; she was talking to me; those words were directed at me. Dizzy or not, she was speaking to me; she had looked at me; there was no horror on her face, no fear.
All the horrible thoughts I had for her disappeared in an instant when my reckless hand grasped hers as her breathing relaxed and deepened. She was mine now, she was with me, but for some reason, I didn’t feel strong, I didn’t feel like holding her back by force.
I wanted to love her, take care of her, see her smile, and hear her tell me those beautiful things. I couldn't do it, I could never hurt (Y/N), and that was killing me.
When her arm healed, she would be gone forever, I would lose her, but I couldn't help thinking it was the right thing to do, that she would be much happier without me, that her smile would disappear if I forced her to love me.
At least she was mine in that moment. Maybe I could try, maybe...
Little by little, (Y/N) regained consciousness, flushing the drug emanating from my body and bringing her out of her disorientation. She didn't change much; she simply seemed much more serene, fearful, but... for some reason, she didn't seem to be truly afraid of me; rather, she seemed to want to be polite and grateful.
I cared for her, treated her with affection, with sweet words while I healed her wound, while she hissed in pain at my actions. But I was always rewarded with a beautiful smile, a sincere, grateful smile.
I couldn't fully reflect the days that passed, but they were more than one, more than two. Soon after arriving at my house, (Y/N) was able to roam freely, curious about everything there, asking questions, and being fascinated by each of my explanations.
“Mm, it's delicious,” she commented one evening while we were having dinner together, in silence, a calm, peaceful silence, a silence that allowed me to contemplate her, to see how she looked at me, how she acted without me being hidden, watching.
“Grazie,” I said gratefully, taking a sip from my glass of wine.
“This pasta has been my favorite food since I was a child,” (Y/N) said, wiping herself with a napkin.
“I know,” I said mistakenly, instantly regretting it for knowing her better than she did.
“Wow, you lords know everything, don't you?” she said amusedly, tasting the wine, complaining about her wound. “Ouch...”
“It's our job,” I said confidently, taking advantage of my status to correct my stupid mistakes.
“I see,” she said, winking at me, a gesture I didn't quite interpret, making me blink in confusion. “I thought I could do something for you.”
“Something for me?” I asked curiously, a darkness appearing in my gaze. Yes... I could think of many things she could do for me.
“Mm,” the girl nodded, carefully placing her glass on the table. “Well, you feed me, you take care of me... sometimes I don't think I want to go home,” she joked, making my face freeze.
“Then don't do it,” I said in an indifferent tone that made her raise her eyebrows before she laughed softly, shaking her head.
“Well, who knows...” she murmured distractedly after that awkward moment, which she dismissed as a joke. It wasn't. “But I would like to help you, at least... well, I know how to sew, and... I could help you with your dolls.”
“Mm, you need to perfect your technique,” I commented, slipping up again, making her look suspicious.
“Oh, really?” (Y/N) said amused, but with a slightly different tone, as if something didn't add up. “Well, I guess if you're patient enough with me, you could teach me your... perfect technique.”
“You can't sew with that arm,” I said, trying to break out of my own trap.
"It won't be forever, will it?" she joked again, raising her wine glass.
I smiled mysteriously, beginning to enter into a strange game I didn't understand, but I liked. I was crazy about her, hopelessly in love with her. That hadn't changed, it had only gotten worse.
“Here's to that, cin cin...”
As her wound healed, my hopes began to fade.
(Y/N) wasn't a simple villager; she was a young woman with a talent for fabrics, a lover of poetry, a kind, cheerful girl...
I never thought we could have so many things in common, that someone like me could get so close to someone like her without forcing her to do so. Of course, I had saved her life, and she was grateful for it. (Y/N) only meant to be kind and grateful, but it burned me. Her smile devoured my insides, made my heart race, excited me, drove me crazy.
Laughter, movies, hours of silent reading... somehow, we had established a bond I hadn't expected. I had managed to approach her without trembling and she didn't tremble when I did. She was perfect, so perfect…
Love consumed me, making me feel pain, sadness, frustration. She was just a girl grateful for what I did, nothing more. Soon she would be gone, abandoning me, and I would only be able to live on memories, on that false illusion of a shared life.
Luckily, I watched her long enough to get to know her, to know what she liked, what to do to please her. It wasn't too difficult for me to do so; she loved poetry, and I loved reading it to her, dedicating a few verses to her in small notes, or while doing her best to help me with my dolls.
I was happy, or I thought was. I would never be happy until she was mine, until she told me if she had feelings for me.
It drove me crazy, I suffered crises at night when she wasn't watching, desperately calling out her name, smashing mirrors and furniture, begging the Gods for a chance for happiness, with her.
“Anche così è stato breve il nostro lungo viaggio.
Il mio dura tuttora, né più mi occorrono
le coincidenze, le prenotazioni,
le trappole, gli scorni di chi crede
che la realtà sia quella che si vede...”
I recited one night, by the light of the fireplace, with her fascinated gaze fixed on mine. My voice trembled, but at the same time it was firm and sure. It didn't matter how much I was suffering for her love. I would suffer eternally to see those eyes look at me like that, to hear the words my lips spoke...
“Wow, it's beautiful,” (Y/N) commented, whispering so as not to disturb the peace of the moment. “What does it mean?”
“It talks about the loss of a great love,” I explained, closing the book, nervous to have her dress so close to mine, so close to me... “Eugenio Montale remembered his deceased wife with these verses, the things they experienced...”
“Oh, that's very sad,” she sighed, lowering her gaze. “Still, it sounds beautiful. Lost love is love, after all.”
“I-I guess so,” I said, relaxing a little, trying not to look at her intently whenever she spoke, to avoid seeming desperate, in love...
“Love is beautiful in all its forms, don't you think so?” she said in a casual tone, placing her legs on the sofa in a distracted posture.
“I don't know,” I answered sincerely.
“Have you never been in love? Oh, um... I shouldn't have asked that, I...” the girl said, once again recalling that cautious tone from the first days, the first weeks.
I didn't respond. I just looked away.
“What about you, silly girl? Have you fallen in love?” Angie interrupted, comically scaring us, breaking the tension of that moment, of that awkward question.
“Angie...” I hissed menacingly, while (Y/N) giggled with a hand on her chest. “Lasciala.”
“It's okay,” the tea girl said, shaking her head. “Actually… I'm in love right now, really bad, indeed.”
Her words stabbed into my chest like two sharp daggers. My whole world, my fantasies, and hopes crumbled at once. I should have known, I should have imagined that someone as perfect as (Y/N) would have someone waiting for her, someone who loved her, and who wasn't me.
Suppressing my rage, my desire to hurt her for causing me pain, I abruptly stood up from the couch, causing the girl to do the same, worried.
“Donna...” she said calmly. “Are you okay?”
“I'm fine! Cazzo...” I screamed, removing her soft hands from my shoulders, which were trying to turn me towards her. “Take your hands off me, you stupid girl,” I growled, panting angrily and running towards the elevator, towards a night of inconsolable crying.
“Donna, wait.”
I didn't hear her; I could only hear her confession, her declaration of love for someone else. I'd already lost my mind, but that finished me off, brutally. Still, killing her, taking revenge out of spite, didn't seem like a good idea.
Imagining the terror in her eyes, her last breath, didn't console me, quite the opposite. Anyway, I already knew it was impossible; she would never love me, and I'd have to accept that, or I'd end up hurting her.
I decided it was best to distance myself, to cool down enough so I wouldn't feel the warmth of her presence, to count the days until her wounds healed completely and she disappeared from my life forever, before I did instead.
But I was never good at acting; my new attitude couldn't go unnoticed by her.
“Donna,” (Y/N) said, bursting into my workshop, distracting me with her unattainable charms. “I-I think I'm completely healed now.”
“Good,” I whispered, concentrating on the porcelain, not in her beauty. “Then you can get out of my house.”
“What? Um... I thought... I thought you liked being with me, I was thinking about...” she said, confused, getting dangerously close.
“No! Don't think, stupid! If you're healed, go away, you're just annoying me,” I exclaimed spitefully, breaking the doll with my hands, with the force of my pain.
“Why are you treating me like this? You're not the same, Donna, I thought that...” she said, hurt, pretending to care about my attitude.
I couldn't take it anymore.
“Why? Are you asking why?” I said, standing up from the chair with a dark look, clenching my fists tightly on either side of my hips. “Because I love you, stupida! I've been in love with you longer than you can imagine! You break my heart, you tell me there's someone you love... and you ask why I treat you like this? I don't know, (Y/N), maybe it's because I can't stand you being so close to me if I can't have you, maybe it's because I can't live without you!”
“I know,” she commented, unfazed by my madness, leaving me voiceless, colorless. “I always knew... you were there, somehow.”
“Cosa?” I asked nervously, a tear of love running down my cheek.
“I saw you far away, in the snow, watching me every day...” she explained, replacing my anger with shame. “At first I was scared, but... somehow... I knew you didn't want to hurt me.”
“You don't know anything, stupida,” I hissed, moving a little closer.
“I know what I feel,” she said firm, confident, without taking her eyes off mine. “Donna, I'm in love with you.”
“What? No, no, no, you're not going to cheat on me,” I said, pointing at her accusingly. “You told me the other night, you said that… that you were in love…”
“Yes, with you,” (Y/N) confessed, leaving me paralyzed. “I know it sounds hasty and… well, maybe you find it hard to believe, but somehow, that day, in the church… I… I don't know, I started wondering what you were really like, what was under that black, withdrawn figure.”
“Um…”
“And then… you came into my store with that silly excuse about tea… I never thought you'd dare to approach me, I'm just a simple villager,” she said amusedly, taking a step towards me.
“You're not a simple villager,” I said confused, my hands trembling when hers intentionally brushed against them.
“And you're not a monster…” she whispered, too close to my lips. “You saved my life, remember?”
“N-No... I... I...” I stammered as her arms wrapped around my waist and her gaze deepened on mine, mesmerizing me. “You don't understand... I wanted... I wanted to hurt you...”
“You'll hurt me, Donna. You'll hurt me if you don't kiss me,” (Y/N) whispered in my ear, pulling away to let my body respond, to let me thrust desperately against her, my lips crashing onto hers.
It wasn't a tender or loving kiss; there was fury, rage, shame, and passion in my movements, in the way my mouth devoured hers. I felt her smile as she reciprocated, the wetness of her tongue brushing against mine with the same force that my hands gripped her waist, pulling her against my body.
“Ti amo..." I whispered panting, catching the breath she'd stolen from me with her kisses, declaring my love for her, confessing a love that had been killing me for too long. “Ti amo...”
(Y/N) smiled seductively, not responding with words, but with another passionate kiss, quieter, but just as effusive.
My hands went wild, wanting to touch every part of her body I'd long considered forbidden. Her dress was violated by my caresses as my legs pushed her beauty against one of the workshop walls.
“I've wanted you to be mine for so long...” I growled in her ear as my fingers grazed her breasts beneath the fabric, my nails gripping her flesh, penetrating it.
“Prove it, Donna,” she challenged me... her voice was a wet challenge as my teeth sank into her neck.
Her bare skin appeared before me like a divine gift, allowing me to lie on it, caress it, kiss it, moisten it for me, so that I could devour it. But I was too anxious to enjoy the moment. I loved her, wanted to truly love her, to sink into her body, to make her mine before she came to her senses and realized what I was doing.
I took a deep breath, looking into her shining eyes and listening to her labored breathing, and without thinking, I ripped her underwear from under her dress with a victorious, dangerous, avid gasp.
“Donna,” she protested in amusement, letting her back hit the wall as I released my quivering erection from its prison. “Calm down.”
“No... you can't ask me to calm down,” I whispered in a commanding voice as I lifted her, leaning her against the wall as I entered her carelessly, feeling that warm, wet embrace around me.
“Shit... you're big, Donna,” (Y/N) protested with a moan, closing her eyes and letting herself go, letting my cock slide through her tight walls, forcing its way into her body, into her wetness...
“You’re... mine...” I responded clumsily, thrusting into her slowly but firmly, slamming her back against the wall as I held her. She clung to my body as best she could.
“Oh, yes, yes,” she moaned as she danced up and down to the rhythm of my thrusts and my indiscreet grunts. I barely had to force myself to move her; she was light as a feather, and comfortable, warm. “Oh, Donna...”
“You're not surprised,” I said with a sinister smile, moaning with pleasure as I felt her body intensely squeezing my erection, a wet, lascivious sound adorning the moment.
“I'd... heard something about it...” she moaned, too focused on the pleasure to be rational. I didn't give that unpleasant comment much thought; I had work to do.
Laughing, reveling in our first time, in truly having her physically, in feeling myself inside her perfect body, I continued my thrusts while my lips fought to capture hers.
“Donna, Donnaah!” she cried out, ecstatic as my release flooded her, causing her body to react in kind, holding me close, milking me with lust so my seed would stay inside her.
The pleasure I felt was incomparable to any other; her body was so perfect... so wet... so much better than a stupid, used maid. I already knew I loved her, but I didn't know I could feel that way: lost, madly in love, capable of forsaking the very Gods if she asked me to.
“I hope I didn't hurt you,” I said when I caught my breath, pulling out and gathering her in my arms as I brushed her hair away from her face. “I've been wanting to do this for so long... wanting to love you...”
“I know, Donna... you were always my guardian angel.”
Hello! Can I please request a Maid reader that flirts with Donna through little notes? Like reader will leave a note with breakfast saying "You look beautiful today :)" and Donna gets so flustered but secretly loves it? But doesn't know how to react? These increasingly flirty note giving continues for months until they suddenly stop. Donna asks the reader about it and sees that reader looks upset. Reader tells her that she stopped because the she thinks that Donna doesn't reciprocate. Donna reveals that she has kept every single note and looks forward to each one. They then share their first kiss.
Thank you!
Yesss!!! Thank you for your request!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!!! :)))))))
Love notes
Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem, maid! Reader
Warnings: Fluff, a bit of angst maybe idk...
Word count: 7,542
Summary: You thought you'd find a way to confess your love...
N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open!!! I'm waiting yours :))) I love you all!!!
Your steps in the snow were slow, but firm.
The cold of that village penetrated under your clothes, causing you to shiver, but even so, a smile decorated your face. The glances of the villagers were fleeting, but they hid a certain relief at seeing you walk through the old houses, as if, from the moment you left, they knew you weren't coming back.
Well, you couldn't blame them for that.
“(Y/N)?” a young voice asked, bringing you out of your thoughts.
“Oksana,” you answered, shaking your head to get out of your reverie. “Wow, I'm glad to see you.”
“Me too,” the girl answered, giving you a quick hug and start walking beside you. “It's been a long time since I saw you around here.”
You smiled as you shook your head, too used to those comments.
“Don't be dramatic,” you explained, making your friend nod distrustfully. “I'm not locked up.”
“No, but...” she said, looking away, regretting wanting to say something. “It doesn't matter.”
“Calm down, Oksie, I've come to do some shopping,” you said in a soft tone, avoiding that small pang of offense that ran through your skin. “Everything's fine.”
Your friend nodded distrustfully, but continued on her way with you.
“I thought someone like you didn't have to come all the way to the village,” she commented upon entering the old bakery while you were checking things off a small list. “It’s the Duke who serves the Lords.”
“Yes, well,” you said amused, shaking your head. “If by serving you mean cheating the Lords, you’re right,” you joked, paying the baker and checking the merchandise. “Donna prefers that I be the one to buy some things, like these delicious pastries.”
“Donna,” Oksana repeated, with an intriguing look.
Your cheeks suddenly flushed and your throat began to dry.
“Lady Beneviento,” you corrected instantly, with a clumsy voice and a distracted look.
“Sure,” your friend whispered as you left the establishment. “I guess after all this time the formalities are no longer necessary.”
“Um, maybe,” you said with a shaky voice, wishing you hadn't run into Oksana.
The young woman nodded slowly, with a frown and a million questions hidden in her gaze, something that made you sigh and roll your eyes.
“(Y/N), I still find it incredible that… well, that you're still here after a whole year in that house,” she finally commented, sitting on a wall. “Nobody expected that…”
“Oh, come on,” you murmured, shaking your head and looking at your feet, avoiding your friend's curious gaze. “Don't exaggerate. It's not that big of a deal.”
“It's not that big of a deal? You're Donna Beneviento's maid, Donna Beneviento's only maid,” Oksana said, lowering her voice. “You know they say you're the first?”
“Mm,” you murmured without answering directly, looking away from the young woman's inquisitive gaze. “Then it's an honor, I guess.”
“An honor?” the young woman replied, arching her eyebrows and getting a little closer to you, to be more discreet. “(Y/N), they say she killed her gardener and…”
“Okay, stop it, Oksie,” you protested, leaving your purchases on the ground and crossing your arms. “I know what they say. I knew it when I offered to work in that house, would you mind stopping looking at me like I’m stupid?”
“I don't think you're stupid,” she whispered. “But I do think you're reckless, that woman is dangerous.”
“Really? It seems that for being working for a dangerous woman… I'm pretty well, don't you think?” you said in an acid tone, with your breathing gradually becoming altered. “Look, Oksana, you can say whatever you want, but I assure you that Donn… that Lady Beneviento is not like people say.”
“She is a Lord,” said your friend, intensifying her warning tone. “She is mentally ill, everyone knows that.”
“Nonsense,” you answered in an offensive tone, shaking your head. “Donna may be sick, but she is not… She is not like people say.”
“So what is she like?”
“W-Well,” you sighed, playing with your hands and looking at the cloudy sky. “She is a quiet woman, but kind. She is intelligent, attractive…”
“Attractive? How do you know? She always wears that horrible veil,” Oksana interrupted, bringing out her curiosity. “Have you seen her without it?”
“Of course I have,” you said firmly, drawing in your head the image of the lady in black, her regal posture, her melodic voice, her bright eye… “She is… a-a very special woman.”
“Oh, no…” the young woman sighed, scrutinizing you with her gaze. “I know that smile, (Y/N)”
“I don't know what you're talking about,” you murmured, grabbing your purchases and moving away from the wall, ready to flee from that conversation. “I'm in a bit of a hurry and…”
“No, no, no, stop there,” Oksana said, amused. “I know you too well, if I didn't know it was impossible, I would think you have feelings for her.”
“What? Don't talk nonsense,” you said with the red in your face betraying your lies. “I'm her maid, that's all. Do you think I would have feelings for a Lord?”
“You're red,” she commented, giving you a nudge, abruptly cutting off your escape. “Oh, no, no, no, it can't be… are you serious?”
“Will you shut up?” you said annoyed, shaking your head, but finally sighing in surrender. She was your friend after all, she knew you. “W-Well, so what if I have feelings for her?”
“You're worse than her,” she laughed discreetly, stopping you from running away again. “You better pray to the Gods.”
“Oh, shut up,” you scolded, pushing her away with a playful push, with the bags shaking in your hands.
“Does she know?” she asked with that unpleasant tone of a nosy friend. “Does she feel the same? Maybe you're not as stupid as you seem…”
“Ugh, no, she doesn't know, of course she doesn't know. Hey, will you leave me alone? I'm in a hurry,” you protested, looking down, with the heat of your cheeks burning on your skin. “It's stupid, okay?”
“Of course it is… falling in love with Lady Beneviento…” Oksana laughed amused, in a mocking tone. “You're crazy.”
“Yes, I'm crazy,” you repeated annoyed, sighing in defeat again. “Oksie… The truth is… you're right, Donna drives me crazy. I'm in love with a Lord, are you happy now?”
“Wow, you've always chosen the wrong women, (Y/N), but this…” your friend mocked, making you growl. “But hey, I'm not judging you. It's not the first time. Lady Dimitrescu also has a long list of admirers.”
“Mm, I guess,” you murmured, finding in your old friend a refuge for your forbidden feelings. Maybe it hadn't been such a bad idea for her to know. “Anyway, it's silly. She would never feel the same way about me.”
“How do you know?”
“Well, because… because I know it,” you answered, looking at the path that would take you back home, next to her. “Hey, where did that “she’s a dangerous woman” go?”
“Well… if you’ve spent a whole year in that place and you’re still alive… Hey, why don’t you try it?”
“Don't talk nonsense, she would never... would you mind stopping bothering me? I have to go home,” you said, shaking your head and moving away from your friend. “You always do the same.”
“If I didn't, I wouldn't be your friend,” she commented, following you closely with a mocking giggle. “Miss Beneviento...”
“Stop it, will you?”
“Do you remember Simon? The boy from the fabric store,” your friend insisted, making you roll your eyes again and nod. “He was crazy about the hairdresser's daughter. Do you know what he did?”
“No, I don't know, I've been away from the village for a year,” you hissed, tired of the conversation, dying of embarrassment.
“Every time he came to her shop, he left her little love notes inside the fabrics, you know, compliments...” Oksana explained. “In two weeks Lydia fell in love with him. You could try.”
“Ugh, shut up. It wouldn't work, besides, I have to go and… I hate you, you know that?” you said, gesturing exaggeratedly.
“You adore me,” she joked. “Anyway, I hope to hear from you soon, the village is quite boring without you.”
“Yes, yes… see you, Oksie,” you said goodbye, making a vague gesture with your hand as you walked away from her and the embarrassment slowly disappeared from your cheeks.
As your feet sank into the snow, you meditated on that strange conversation. Oksana was your best friend, and she still was, she would never reveal your feelings. That wasn't what really worried you, what tormented you was the truth of your words, the confession that you had been feeling the need to say out loud for months.
You took a big risk by offering yourself as a maid for Donna Beneviento, the youngest and most mysterious Lord, but it paid off. You got a quiet job in a strange house, alongside a strange woman… and a living doll.
At first, the lady in black was distrustful, defensive and solitary, and very close to the rumors. But little by little, that wall she herself put up in front of you began to crumble.
The monster the villagers spoke of didn’t exist, it never did. The black veil the lady always wore fell before your eyes to reveal the true meaning of beauty. Donna was a beautiful woman, truly beautiful, even if she didn't believe it. The scar on her face emanated suffering, a forced isolation she imposed on herself, but for you, it was nothing of the sort.
Her words became softer and her melodic accent became a pleasant breeze in your ears. Her hands, her skin, her gaze, that little smile you sometimes saw... Everything together began to be unbearable for you.
You were always a girl easily impressed, and although at first you refused to admit that she had stolen your heart, you had no choice but to admit it. Yes, she was a sick, unstable and introverted woman, but she was also kind, calm and peaceful, the complete opposite of her adoptive siblings or Mother Miranda.
Despite the horrible things Donna did in the past, things that she let out in her delusions, you saw in her a fragile and delicate spirit, an interesting and beautiful woman, perfect to fall in love with, to dream about what her kisses would be like, if those lips had ever kissed before.
Of course, you never considered confessing your feelings to her. On the one hand, it seemed like something easy, since you felt a certain chemistry between you, a silent bond that tied you to each other. On the other hand, you couldn't forget who she was, the terrible things she could do to you, the consequences that such a confession could have.
You were crazy about her, but… but you were still her maid, she was still a Lord, a dangerous woman with the power to finish you off with a wave of her hands. The tension became uncomfortable and desperation beat strongly inside your chest.
Would you ever dare to do something about it? Or would you continue to contemplate the lady in your dreams?
“It's about time, silly maid!” the squeaky tone of the Angie doll interrupted your thoughts. Without realizing it, you had already arrived at the old mansion.
“Angie…” you sighed, closing the door while the puppet ran towards you in a comical way. “Don't yell”
“Don't yell, don't yell!” the doll repeated, after which she let out a loud laugh. Damn doll, it always got on your nerves. “Do you have everything?”
“Everything,” you said satisfied, leaving your purchases on the table. “Where's Donna?”
“(Y/N),” a dark, hoarse voice answered your question.
The lady in black appeared in front of you, her gaze fixed on your eyes as well as a slow walk made her heels click on the old wood; a sound you secretly adored.
“Donna,” you sighed with a discreet smile as the woman approached to take a look at your purchases. “Um, um… I already have everything.”
“Mm, I see,” Donna murmured, standing very close to you, too close. “You took a while,” she commented distractedly.
“Oh, I'm sorry,” you apologized, lowering your head as her fleeting gaze crossed your face. “I've been distracted in the village.”
“Mm,” she murmured with disinterest, looking at you again, making you look away from her beauty. “I don't like that you take so long, (Y/N), I'm worried that something will happen to you.”
Are you worrying her? Oh, Gods.
“I’m fine, I just ran into an old friend,” you explained, trying to keep your voice from shaking. “B-Besides, you know there’s nothing that can scare me.”
“A friend,” the lady repeated, nodding slowly, but with an expressionless face. “You mean a… special friend?” she stammered curiously, with a dark shadow in her gaze.
“What? No, no, no, no,” you denied, too abruptly, gesturing with your hands and head. “My old friend Oksana, I haven’t seen her in a long time.”
“You don’t have to give me explanations,” Donna whispered, slowly moving away with a quick gesture, visibly nervous, or upset. “You’re my maid.”
“Yes, I’m your maid,” you sighed, agreeing with her with a melancholic air. “And… and I love being so.” You don't know why you said that nonsense, after which you closed your eyes in regret.
The lady's lips curved slightly in a quick, fast smile, almost imperceptible to a normal look, but not to yours, not to your loving eyes.
“I like you being so,” she murmured in a low, very low tone, moving away from you definitively, leaving a cold draft on your body. “Get some rest, I'll put this away.”
“Uh… yes, okay, thank you, Donna,” you nodded nervously, bowing slightly and biting your lip, giving the lady one last look. Gods, you loved her so, so much…
“Prego,” she whispered back, turning around and grabbing the bags, disappearing down the elevator hallway.
You quickly went up the stairs, calling yourself a fool for your clumsy conversations and dropping onto the bed.
“Idiot,” you insulted yourself, hitting the mattress with your fist. “What are you doing?”
You had free time until lunchtime, but that wasn't a good thing. As always, you tried to read something, to distract your head from Donna's figure, from her voice, from her gaze, from those strange words that sometimes made you believe you really had a chance.
Reality washed over your mind when you began to fantasize, blaming the ventriloquist's clumsiness on her unstable and wounded mind, and not on her possible (impossible) feelings. There was nothing to indicate to you that there was something real between you, that you both felt the same, but still, you liked to imagine it, to interpret her words and gestures the way you liked best, torturing yourself with false hopes.
Sighing, trying to get the lady out of your head, a recent memory came to you: your friend's comment about your feelings and her stupid idea to confess them to Donna.
“Bah,” you said shaking your head, looking at an old notebook. “Notes, what nonsense…” you muttered with your leg shaking, indicating that you should get up and sit at your desk. “It's a terrible idea, but hey, at least I can dream,” you said, opening the notebook and picking up a pen.
You spent a good while writing short notes, flattering words that could reach your lady, but none of them convinced you. You didn't even know why you thought about her reaction when reading them, since you did it just to spend the time.
“No way… this won't serve any purpose,” you said, tearing out one of the pages and crumpling it in desperation, throwing it into a trash can. “You ‘re beautiful? Really, (Y/N)?” you said to yourself, shaking your head. “This is a waste of time.”
“What is a waste of time?” a voice that shouldn't be there asked, a voice accompanied by the Angie doll, who appeared in your room.
“Angie, what did I tell you about entering my room?” you asked annoyed, closing the notebook and crossing your arms. “It's my private area, do you understand?”
“I can go wherever I want, this is my house, silly, you're an intruder,” the doll mocked, climbing onto the desk. “What are you doing?”
“I'm not an intruder,” you growled, taking the wooden hands away from your notebook, too accustomed to Angie's irreverent attitude. “I'm Donna's maid... your maid.”
“Yes, yes, yes,” she said with disinterest, letting herself fall on the table. “What are you doing?”
“Nothing of your business, Miss Angie,” you said with a dark look.
“Oh,” the puppet said, nodding in an exaggerated manner. “What are you doing?”
“Ugh,” you protested, letting the air out of your lungs abruptly. “Nothing, I'm not doing anything, leave me alone.”
“Silly maid…” the puppet sighed, getting down from the table with a grunt of protest. “What’s this?” she asked in an inquisitive voice, rummaging through your trashcan and taking out the ball of paper you discarded.
“What? Hey,” you said, trying to reach Angie, something impossible; she was too slippery.
“You're beautiful,” she read the note amused, fleeing from your hands. “Oh, so lovely… Is it for your girlfriend?”
“Angie! Give it back to me!” you shouted, getting up and starting a chase with the doll around the room among loud laughter. “Hey!”
“Come and catch me, silly, silly!” Angie sang, running away from all your desperate attempts to catch her.
“Damn it… Angie!” you shrieked on the verge of tears.
Well, the doll had no way of knowing who that note was for, but still… no, she couldn't have it, she could tell Donna and…
“Hey, come back here!” you yelled, leaving the room, guided by that sinister laugh. “Angie!”
“You can't catch me, you can't catch me!” the doll mocked, quickly running down the stairs.
“Damn doll, I got you!” you said, managing to catch her. It was a shame that after that clumsy tackle, you tripped, falling irremediably down the stairs. “Ow, ow, ow! Shit…” you lamented sitting on the floor while the doll laughed shrilly.
At least, you had managed to recover the note.
“(Y/N),” a melodic voice said, Donna, who ran towards your position with a worried look. “Stai bene?” she asked, bending down to help you stand up, touching you gently as she did so, melting you, making your legs fail again.
“Oh, um, yeah, yeah, I'm fine,” you said nervously, moving away from her addictive touch and shaking your uniform with a nervous smile.
“Clumsy maid!” Angie scolded you, leaning over the railing and pointing at you mockingly.
“Angie…” Donna whispered, checking your condition, without letting your arms go. “What happened? Are you hurt?”
“What? Oh, no, it was… an accident,” you growled those last words, looking at Angie out of the corner of your eye and discreetly putting the note in your pocket while you got lost in Donna’s gaze. “It's nothing, I'm fine, Donna.”
“Mm,” she murmured, keeping her eye on yours, thus creating a common moment of tension, of awkward silence. “Va bene, um, (Y/N)…”
“Yes?” The word came out of your mouth like a sigh; your feet walked a step closer to her as she held you with a confused look.
“W-Well, then… then you can cook, right?” the lady said, finally moving away with her typical nervous blink, playing with her hands, struggling to look away from you.
Your eyes slowly lowered, disappointed by that sudden change, by those words she never got to say and that you were dying to know. Again, you were fantasizing.
“Yes, of course,” you said in a formal tone, passing by her side elegantly, repressing the pain on your lower back. “Um, Donna…”
“Yes?” she said, with an expectant look, but without moving, without even looking at you.
“Nothing, I… I think, I think I’ll make some pasta, do you fancy it?” you said nervously, with an innocent tone.
“I love the way you make pasta, (Y/N), thank you,” Donna whispered, finally walking away from you again. “I’ll wait here.”
You nodded and made a bow watching as the lady sat down on the couch and that conversation, like all the ones you had, ended.
Once in the kitchen you took the note out of your pocket, leaving it on the counter with a loud thud, your hands shaking as well as your nervous body.
“You… damn doll,” you cursed under your breath, looking at your note over and over again and shaking your head. “It was a bad idea, a very bad idea.”
Forgetting about the whole note thing, you started cooking as usual, humming a sweet melody as the ingredients mixed together. You were never a great cook, but that was before Lady Beneviento herself taught you a few things, how to prepare dishes from her home country the right way.
You sighed remembering those cooking lessons, the glances that went straight to your heart, that bright eye watching yours while you kneaded or boiled something. Sometimes you dreamed of forgetting everything you had learned and being able to have the lady in black behind you, joining her hands with yours, the softness of her skin running over yours.
After a while, with everything ready, you brought the food up to the dining room, where Donna was waiting impatiently, putting a discreet smile when she saw you.
“Here you go, I hope everything is to your liking,” you said kindly, with a radiant and sincere smile, pouring her a glass of wine and joining your hands together.
Your heart stopped when you saw something strange under the plate.
No, it couldn't be possible. That absurd note you wrote was glued to it. The paper had stuck to the porcelain due to the heat, and it was perfectly visible. She would notice, for sure.
You quickly thought of your options, but none of them were valid, you couldn't do anything that wouldn't give you away, just wait for Donna to see it, and the terrible consequences.
Before you could move, flee from that situation, the lady stopped eating, frowning, and noticing the paper under the plate. She slowly took it out, while you walked slowly back to your room. With a strange look, she read the note, over and over, looking for the culprit with her eyes.
You were already far away, about to go up the stairs, but unable to stop looking at her. Her expression relaxed, but her blinking was nervous, confused.
That's it, it's over.
You quickly went up to your room, closing the door with a pale face and leaning your back against it, squeezing your eyes tightly.
“No, no, no, no…” you lamented, pressing your hands against your temples. “I screwed it up, I screwed it up… damn you, Oksana…”
There was no way to blame anyone other than yourself, to blame your friend for giving you the idea of a silent confession through stupid notes. You couldn’t blame the doll for being responsible for your mistake either. It was your note, your handwriting, your words, your feelings. The only one to blame, was you.
With that in mind, you began to ramble about the possible consequences of your impudence. You could be fired, killed, forgotten forever, tortured… A reciprocal confession was the last thing you thought would happen.
The afternoon passed slowly as you debated with yourself about your next move: Should you run away from there before Donna asked? Should you apologize? Should you make up an excuse?
No, neither option was the right one. At the moment, all you could do was take refuge in your room, waiting for the moment when your world would fall apart.
It didn't take long to come.
“(Y/N)?” Donna's voice asked, along with a soft knock on the door. “Are you there?”
You wiped away your tears of despair as your body tensed irremediably. This is the end, (Y/N).
“Um, yes,” you whispered almost without a voice, slowly approaching your cruel and uncertain fate, opening the door. “Donna, I...”
“(Y/N),” she sighed, clasping her hands together as usual, with a slightly strange, but apparently calm look. “Have you been here the whole time?”
“Yes,” you answered nervously, looking down at the wooden floor. “I wasn't feeling… well.”
“Mm,” Donna murmured, with an indifferent tone, looking away as well. “Uh… you haven't eaten.”
“I wasn't very hungry,” you said without thinking, waiting for the moment of accusation. “Um, um… do you need something?”
“Yes, I…” she said with a broken voice and a nervous smile, nervous, but terribly beautiful. “I wanted… I wanted to tell you that… W-Well, you haven't given me time to talk to you about…”
“Donna, I…” you interrupted, lowering your head in apology. “I know I shouldn't have done it but…”
“Don't be modest, adding a touch of garlic to the pasta was a good decision,” the lady commented, with a slightly more relaxed smile.
You frowned, confused.
“Garlic? Oh, yes,” you said more nervously, starting to get lost. “Did you want to tell me... something?”
“Yes, I... just congratulate you for your dish, (Y/N), it was delicious,” Donna whispered, looking at you with a different sparkle in her eye, with evident nervousness. “I hope that someday you do it that way again.”
“Oh, I... of course,” you said confused, nodding out of inertia and frowning. “T-Thank you, Donna.”
“No, I... thank you, (Y/N),” she sighed, generating a moment of silence again, more tense and uncomfortable than usual. “Um… Have you… seen what time it is?”
“What? I-I… no,” you said, scratching the back of your neck.
“It’s tea time, (Y/N), I-I’d like you to make me some, if you’re feeling better,” the lady asked, returning to her formal and elegant tone, losing that strange nervousness.
“Sure, r-right away, Donna,” you said nodding, a gesture she returned, turning her back to you with an elegant twist.
You breathed a sigh of relief, but you couldn’t stop following her with your gaze. There was certainly something strange about her, something different, but there was no way you thought it had anything to do with that stupid note, right? Right?
The lady in black stopped before walking down the stairs, turning her head towards you and doing something that made you freeze again. A smile, a sincere and nervous smile formed on her lips as her gaze held yours. Something inside you stirred at that moment, as your face emulated that tender smile.
She quickly looked away again, as if she was going to say something, but changed her mind at the last moment.
It was all strange, of course. Well, it was always strange at the Beneviento House, but a new feeling began to confuse your thoughts.
That smile… could it be because of the note? Did she like it? Was it really a good idea? Was Oksana right?
It seemed crazy, but your head repeated the word success over and over again, the feeling of having succeeded in something you didn't really want to do. Her smile… it was different, tender, nervous, sincere…
Dazzled by the memory of that innocent gesture, you frowned, glancing sideways at your old notebook, gaining a confidence that pushed you to… well… to think that you should continue with those notes, that maybe you could reach her with your clumsy flattery.
“What could I lose by trying?” you asked yourself as you sat down, coming to the conclusion that… if Donna was upset by your written comment, something would have happened but… on the contrary, she seemed… pleased, happy… There had been no consequences beyond that beautiful smile and you… you were dying to see it again.
I love when you smile
You wrote, letting your heart speak, with a more elegant handwriting, cutting the paper until it became a real note, an intentional one that, hesitantly, but at the same time sure of yourself, you placed under her cup of tea.
“Here,” you said, leaving the tray on the work table, earning a brief glance from your lady.
“Grazie, (Y/N),” Donna whispered, focused on making her porcelain dolls.
With a bow, you withdrew, leaving her alone, but you didn’t walk down the basement hallway. Instead, you stayed to one side of the doors of the old workshop, watching as the lady drank her tea.
Of course she found the note, and, looking around, she read it, over and over again.
A sound came from her lips, a laugh that you had never been lucky enough to hear. It made her happy; your words made her emit that heavenly sound. Even from your hidden position, you thought you saw a slight blush on her cheeks.
Something cheered you for your bravery, and the little hope you had became intense, almost overwhelming. That reaction from the lady in black told you that she definitely like your words, so… Well, you would lose nothing by continuing to try.
Little by little it became a routine. Every lunch, breakfast or tea was accompanied by a note from you. You loved to see her nervous reaction, her tender smile when she thought you weren't looking.
You started a little game, a flirting strategy that was unconventional, but spoke better of your feelings than your cowardly voice. The days passed slowly and her reaction grew colder, but her smile never disappeared.
“I hope the coffee is to your liking, Donna,” you said one morning, leaving in front of her a cup with a new note, one that said:
You look beautiful today
“Sure it is, grazie,” the lady replied, taking a sip and discreetly grabbing the note that was under the cup while you avoided looking at her.
But, even from a distance, you could see the smile on her face again. There was something that began to intrigue you. The day of the accident, you feared her reaction, but that fear slowly turned into indifference and then… into another kind of fear.
Donna never mentioned the notes, she didn't say anything, she didn't tell you anything about it, she didn't even ask. It might have seemed like a relief at first, but little by little it became a new concern. If she didn't do anything, if she didn't say anything... What did it mean to her? Was she scared like you? Did she just not care?
Questions began to haunt you when you were alone and a new desire surfaced in your chest. The desire to know what she thought of those compliments, those notes, those discreet confessions you sent her every day.
The impatience was already evident in your feelings, and when you got nervous, you often made mistakes, like the one that morning.
“Um, Donna,” you said, turning on your heels and returning to the dining room table, your hands beginning to sweat.
“Mm?” she murmured, looking at you briefly, but not paying real attention to you.
“I wanted to… I wanted to ask you something,” you murmured with a broken voice, weak due to the pain in your throat.
“Va bene,” she whispered, while reading a book about plants, her secondary hobby, after dolls. “What's worrying you?”
“Oh, nothing's worrying me, I'm just… I was just wondering if…” you said nervously, running your hand over the chair, brushing the black fabric of her dress without her realizing it.
“Something's worrying you,” Donna said, raising her gaze from the book and directing it towards you, crossing your chest.
“Yes, no…” you said nervously, shaking your head, trying to keep your composure. “I was wondering if… well, if I'm doing my job as a maid right,” you finished, closing your eyes and cursing your clumsiness.
“Cosa? (Y/N), you don’t have to worry about that, you’re… you’re an excellent maid, the best,” she whispered, looking away, with a discreet smile.
“Oh, come on, you say that because you haven’t had other maids,” you joked erratically, rolling your eyes. “But I was wondering if… if there’s something in my behavior that… bothers you.”
“No,” she answered dryly, focusing again on her book after a sip of coffee. “Everything’s fine, (Y/N), you don’t have to worry.”
“Oh, um, okay,” you said defeated, unable to ask exactly what you wanted to ask. “I’ll… I’ll go clean the upstairs. If you want something… just tell me,” you muttered, fleeing the scene in a cowardly manner.
“Mm”
You had a terrible morning. While you were cleaning, you couldn't stop thinking about her reaction, her indifference. Obviously she read the notes, you made sure of it, but... there was something you didn't like, something that tormented you. She didn't seem to give it any importance and that only meant... Well, you didn't know exactly what it meant.
Maybe she ignored it? Did she think it was part of your job? That was terrible, that only indicated that... that she didn't feel anything for you.
A ball of wool hit your face while the truth of what was happening did the same in your heart.
“Angie!” you shrieked, protesting another of the doll's pranks. “I've told you a thousand times to stop pranking me while I clean.”
“Silly maid!” the doll laughed, amused by her action.
You were going to growl again, pretending to strangle her wooden neck, when a new idea appeared in your mind. Maybe Donna had no intention of speaking, but the sinister doll was the complete opposite of its owner…
“Angie, come here,” you said in a serious tone, pointing at the floor. “Obey.”
“Stupid…” the doll hissed, unable to refuse, since Donna had warned it long ago to stop bothering you, and to listen to you. “What do you want?”
You rolled your eyes, and, as if it were a bribe, you returned the ball of wool to the doll, although Donna didn’t like it at all when Angie played with them.
“Oh, you give me my toy back…” the puppet murmured, studying its precious and forbidden treasure. “Spit it out, silly maid, what do you want?”
“Nothing, I just want to talk,” you said, putting aside the apron and bending down to be at the doll's height.
“Talk, then,”
“Hey, Angie… Donna… Hasn't she said anything to you? I mean… Has she told you anything strange lately? Something that bothers or worries her?” you asked quietly, watching your surroundings.
“What are you talking about? Silly…” she answered listlessly.
“You know, if there's something new in her life or… if you notice that she's happier or…” you insisted, being unaware of your dangerous questions.
“Donna is Donna, she's the same as always,” Angie answered, playing with her ball. “Is there any reason why she shouldn't be?”
“Um…” you murmured, disappointed, sad. “No, there isn't,” you whispered, getting up and shaking your head. “Now let me work, will you?”
Angie was Donna's only company, a creation of hers so she wouldn't feel terribly alone. She was her confidant, she was much more than that; she was part of her, part of her mind. If Angie didn't know anything, it was because Donna hadn't changed, everything was the same, and that wasn't a good thing.
Her lack of interest, her indifference to your notes, to your increasingly less discreet flattery seemed to be little more than an anecdote for the lady in black, something she didn't give any importance to.
That night you cried, you cried because your cowardly and at the same time shameless attempt had been useless. You loved Donna, you loved her and, although you knew it was unlikely that she felt the same, you had hope.
The Italian woman's soft and kind words, her mysterious glances, those smiles that appeared on her face when you did something for her... That all of it was simple kindness was hard for you to believe. You came to think that her shyness prevented her, just like you, from saying what she thought or what she felt.
But no, she didn't feel anything for you. If it were otherwise, she wouldn't have ignored your notes; she wouldn't have let the chance to even ask you go. She was your mistress, you were her maid and... as much as it sometimes seemed like there was something more between you, something deeper, it was all an illusion that your mind created.
Disappointed, but with your wounded heart still begging for her love, you made a drastic decision at the same time that, in the darkness of the night, you vented your failure with tears.
There would be no more notes or flattery. Donna would only be Donna, your lady and you, her maid, a maid in love, but a maid after all.
Your spite made you grow cold, maintain a much drier relationship with her, nod, say “yes, my lady,” and not seek an informal conversation that went beyond your work. It hurt you, it hurt you terribly to act that way, but if you didn't, you would still be madly in love, forever.
“Donna?” you asked one afternoon, as you approached to clear the table, a table that, after a few weeks, you stopped sharing with her as you sometimes did.
The lady in black wasn't sitting, but comically crouched under the table, her doll next to her, moving the chairs around in an odd way.
The lady looked at you and her head hit the wood comically, startled by your silent appearance.
“Oh, cavolo...” she complained, getting up clumsily and rubbing the hit area with a nervous smile. “You scared me, (Y/N).”
“I'm sorry,” you apologized with a bow, approaching the table to pick up the plates. “You're done, I guess.”
“Yes,” she replied, nodding effusively, but still looking at the floor in confusion.
You made a cold gesture as you picked up, glancing at her, unable to avoid the strong beating of your heart in her presence. Stopping loving her was impossible.
“What were you doing crouching there, Donna?” you asked in a dry, indifferent tone.
“Um, well, I…” she murmured, with a slight reddish glow on her cheeks. “I-I was looking for something.”
“Mm,” you murmured with disinterest. “Have you lost something?”
“Yes, no, I don't know,” Donna stammered, looking away quickly, she seemed nervous. “Have you lost something?”
“Me? Of course I haven’t,” you said coldly, shaking your head.
“Oh, um… okay,” the lady whispered, with a sad tone that reached the depths of your soul. “Are you sure? Haven't you forgotten anything?”
“I haven’t,” you denied, as you finished collecting the plates. “Have you taken your medication? Did you lose a pill?”
“Cosa? No,” she said, frowning, offended by your attitude.
“Mm, okay,” you sighed, moving away from her, holding back your tears, ready to leave the room. “I'll serve you tea in a couple of hours.”
A tug on your wrist stopped you from moving away. The lady in black stood up from her chair, unconsciously digging her nails into your skin.
“Un attimo, (Y/N),” she whispered, taking the plates from your hands, leaving them back on the table.
“What do you want?” you asked, feeling the heat of her skin through your clothes, that addictive and burning touch. “I have a lot of work to do, Donna.”
“Why are you so cold to me?” she asked, putting on a hurt look, her one eye wet. “You're very cold lately.”
“It's nothing, it'll just be the weather,” you said, holding back a sob. “Donna, you’re hurting me.”
“I'm sorry,” she apologized, letting you go, bringing her hand to her mouth, nervous as you picked up the plates and walked away again. “I-I miss them, you know?”
You stopped, opening your eyes wide before turning the corner.
“Y-Your notes, I miss them,” the lady repeated, coming closer and turning your body with a hand on your shoulder.
“My notes?” you asked in a small voice.
“Y-Yes… Io…” the brunette murmured, lowering her gaze, her hands beginning to shake. “I loved reading them.”
“Really?” you asked suspiciously, breathing heavily and with a hopeful glint in your eyes. “I thought you didn't care about them.”
Donna opened her mouth to say something, but it seemed like something was stopping her, her cheeks were blood red and her body was shaking nervously.
“I cared about them,” she finally said, looking at the floor, blinking erratically.
“You never told me anything,” you whispered, leaving the plates on the table again and passing by her, confused. “You… never mentioned them.”
“It's just that I… I didn't know what to do… you said such nice things to me…” the ventriloquist stammered, playing with her hands, approaching little by little from behind. “But they're not there anymore… I've been looking for them but… they're not there.”
“No, they're not there anymore,” you said, passing a finger over your wet eye, wiping away a tear that timidly appeared. “I stopped writing them.”
“Perché?”
“Because… Donna, I…” you hesitated, looking at the ceiling, anywhere but at her beauty. “It doesn't matter, I have to pick this up.”
“Per favore… don't go,” Donna asked you, grabbing your arm again, this time with less force. “Why were you doing it?”
“It doesn't matter, Donna, forget it,” you insisted, fighting with your own feelings. “There was no point in continuing to do so, not when you read them, and acted as if nothing had happened. Donna, I…” you began, regretting it instantly. “It doesn't matter, really.”
“You're wrong,” the lady said in a serious, dark tone. “I-I've kept all of them, each and every one of them, (Y/N),” she explained, grabbing your hands, not wanting to let them go, staring at you with her hypnotic gaze.
“What?” You sighed, feeling relief in her soft hands, in her unconscious caresses. “Have you… have you kept them? You haven’t thrown them away?”
“I would never do that,” she said, taking a step closer, being terribly close, unbearably close to you. “Every night I read them, one by one and… I couldn’t, I couldn’t stop smiling. I smiled because… because you wrote them, for me.”
“Yes,” you said with a tender smile, daring to place a hand on her cheek, something that made her close her eye with a nervous gasp. “I wrote them for you because…because… It doesn’t matter.”
“(Y/N) I…” Donna said, interrupting your last attempt to get away, to go up to your room and cry inconsolably. “M-Many times I didn’t feel like having tea… I just… I just wanted it to… to see what you had written to me, to read your beautiful words until I fell asleep and… and I still look forward for it…”
“You look forward for it…” you sighed, looking down at her tempting lips, your nerves and the pounding in your chest making it difficult for you to say anything. “Donna, I was hoping that… that you would tell me something because…”
“I-I think I'm in love with you, (Y/N),” the lady said unexpectedly, making your eyes widen, stopping your breathing. “I… I'm stupid… What I feel for you is so strong that when… when I read that first note I didn't… I didn't know what to do. It seemed unthinkable to me that you would do it for other reason than… you know, being my maid.”
“If I did it, it was because…” you began, unsure of what you were going to say. “Because I love you, Donna,” you finally confessed, looking down, but continuing to caress her hands. “I love you and… I didn't know how… how to tell you. You know, I'm your maid and I never thought that...”
The lady in black smiled excitedly, reaching out one of her hands to your face, caressing it as if it were something precious, something fragile and beautiful.
“I don't want you to be my maid, (Y/N),” she said in a serious tone, as if she was too nervous to control her emotions. “I-I want, I want you to be... my girlfriend.”
“Gods, Donna,” you sighed, taking one last step closer, unable to believe her words, her feelings. “Donna, I... I don't want to be your maid. Please, let me kiss you.”
She nodded slowly as your eyes closed. Your body acted on its own, laughing at yourself, at your clumsy approaches, at the ignorance about what those silly notes caused in the lady in black.
The contact was wet. Your lips collided, exploring, kissing slowly, recording in your memory every sensation, every sound, every caress. It was a clumsy, inexperienced kiss, but it said much more than any of your absurd notes.
“Y-You know? I-I’ve never kissed anyone,” Donna confessed embarrassed, slowly moving away from your lips, with a sincere smile, the most beautiful you had ever seen.
“Mm,” you murmured, slowly lifting her chin, still unable to believe that it wasn’t a dream. “I’m glad I was the first.”
“Yes…” the lady sighed, letting herself fall into your arms, hugging you, scratching your back as if she wanted to keep you close, as close to you as possible. “Promise me one thing, (Y/N)”
“Whatever you want, my love”
“Promise me that you will continue writing me those notes every day…”
Can you do a gardner reader/gp Donna where the gardner was quietly given the cadou, but no one but Mother Miranda knows? Gardner is soft spoken and Donna and reader slowly fall in love...maybe some angst from Donna being scared to lose the gardner but finding out they have forever? If you could have smut (maybe the gardner has a breeding kink), too?
Yesss!!!! Thank you for your request!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!! :))))
Forever
Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem, gardener! Reader
Warnings: G!P Donna, smut, (Minors DNI), breeding kink, angst, fluff, Donna being Donna
Word count: 8,432
Summary: Your life was getting weird...
N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open!!! I'm waiting yours!!! I love you all!!!
Living in that village was already synonymous with mystery and disorientation, but it was nothing compared to waking up every morning in a different place. Of course, it wasn't always like that.
You were a normal girl, with a sad and boring life, like everyone who lived in that place. You had a home, a family, the certainty that Mother Miranda and the Black Gods protected you… You couldn't really complain, but deep down you wanted to.
You weren't hungry, nor cold. You weren't even called by the lady of the castle to serve her as a maid, something quite common for young girls like you. You thought that maybe you wouldn't suffer the same fate as your friends, that life had something better in store for you.
Deep down, you weren't wrong.
But when you thought you would dedicate yourself to taking care of a small garden, that you would no longer have any worries other than worshipping the Gods and protecting the crops from frost, something happened.
Even if you tried to look back and retrace each of the steps you took that day, all you could see was the darkness. The first thing your memory recalled when you woke up were those gray eyes, that blonde hair, that woman, Mother Miranda.
According to the priestess, you had an accident, and, of course, the Black Gods had protected you. Although you didn’t doubt her word, although you didn’t distrust the person who protected the village, there was something that didn’t fit in that story.
You weren’t the most faithful villager, and that is why you decided not to question that “divine intervention” and to just thank the bird-woman.
Apparently, your innate ability with plants piqued the blonde lady's curiosity, and after vaguely explaining how she had saved your life, she offered you a job. Distrustful, you listened patiently to what your new role would be, one that you knew you couldn’t escape.
Mother Miranda said that it would be a complete shame if your talent was wasted on simple vegetables, that you deserved something more than that. For that reason, and with you unable to hold her gaze, she indicated that you were destined to serve one of the Lords.
It was something that was always within your possible futures, but perhaps in a different way. You wouldn’t be a maid, or an experiment, you would be a gardener. But not just any gardener; you would be, from that day on, the gardener of House Beneviento.
Naturally, you knew the inhabitant of those grounds, the youngest and most mysterious Lord: the solitary ventriloquist, Donna Beneviento.
She was no different from her siblings. The rumors about the lady in black weren’t foreign to your ears. No one knew her well, but everyone feared her. She was a strange, sick and dangerous woman.
The power to revive your deepest fears, to manipulate your mind like the strings of a puppet kept that mansion as a place of no return, as the last thing anyone stupid enough to enter there would see.
You were terrified of working for her, taking care of the plants that made her power terrifying, but… how could you refuse a request from Mother Miranda?
You soon moved to the house of the one who took your place years ago, the mysterious family gardener, who suddenly disappeared. The uncertainty killed you every day you spent there, but it didn't take long for you to get used to it.
Your new mistress didn't usually come near. Yes, sometimes her black figure walked around the grounds as if she were a ghost, next to the Angie doll. She didn't look at you; you doubted if the lady was even aware of your existence.
It wasn't long before you started to be curious, to wonder what kind of woman was hiding under that black veil.
Little by little that gloomy walk came closer, and the lady in black recognized your work, something strange; you doubted she knew you existed. But contrary to what you might think, the woman did know Mother Miranda's command, that you were her new gardener.
A couple of whispers with a hoarse and melodic voice, slight nods and hidden glances… they were the symptoms that indicated that Donna Beneviento was watching you.
The monster the villagers spoke of faded away with each encounter, and curiosity slowly began to replace fear. Yes, she seemed like a strange, sick woman, and her Angie doll scolded you for being a nuisance, but for some reason, you began to want to see her walking near you, a compliment from the lips you couldn't see, a word with that attractive accent.
Perhaps the desire to get closer to that woman increased due to the loneliness of the place, the feeling of isolation you experienced in that cabin. The days passed slowly without her heels sinking into the snow, without her black presence contrasting with the pure white of the landscape.
Surely you were delirious, or maybe was the lack of sleep that made you imagine longer conversations, maybe having tea with her, making her laugh, making the anguish you saw in her way of moving, of acting, disappear. You were attracted to Donna, and you couldn't deny it, but unfortunately, you weren't the most outgoing girl in the village, and new worries clouded those absurd fantasies.
The days were quiet, the nights were restless, black, a blinding darkness permeated your dreams and the warmth of the fireplace began to disappear. When you woke up, when you opened your eyes, the surroundings were different every day. You could be in the snow, leaning on a railing, on the bridge, near the house...
You had never been a sleepwalker, or so you thought, but waking up every day in a different place, feeling black smoke clouding any memory of the night, made you believe that perhaps your nights were much more interesting than they seemed.
For that reason, you started a diary a long time ago in which you noted the place where you woke up and how you felt. You needed an answer, you needed to find a pattern to that strange behavior, but you never got what you were looking for, just more uncertainty and a irrational fear of falling asleep.
Luckily, that day you woke up in your bed, a rarity that you thought you would take advantage of, perhaps to try to focus on the lady in black, on your discovery of that mysterious woman you worked for.
“It seems that the cold hasn’t caused much damage...” you murmured while pruning some bushes, checking the color, the condition of the plants. “Good, good...”
Your eyes danced unintentionally towards the paths, towards the place where the lady used to appear and a strange smile formed on your face, imagining her slow walking, the lavender perfume she left behind as she passed by you.
“Uh-oh, I think you're going crazy, (Y/N),” you said to yourself, shaking your head and turning your back on the path, taking the lady out of your thoughts.
As if something, or someone, had read your silent request, footsteps in the snow made you freeze and turn your head slowly, unable to stop smiling. Indeed, your silent prayers had been heard, and the dark figure of Donna Beneviento appeared on the path, approaching with her doll.
“Oh, my lady,” you whispered, not being able (you had never been) to raise the volume of your voice.
Despite that, the lady seemed to hear you and turned her head towards you, stopping dead in her tracks.
“Good morning, silly gardener!” the shrill voice of the Angie doll penetrated your ears, making you put on an unpleasant face, but without losing your elegant smile.
“Miss Angie,” you said elegantly, with a submissive whisper. “My lady…”
“What are you doing, silly?” the puppet asked, while its owner put it on the ground, nodding discreetly at your greeting. “You're hurting the plants, huh?”
“No,” you said amused, with an evident blush on your cheeks. “Of course I’m not, Miss Angie, I'm pruning this bush.”
“Sure, sure,” the doll answered while your gaze shifted to the lady in black, who stood with her hands placed elegantly in front of her body. “Hey, hey, the other day I saw in a book that gardeners like you know how to shape these bushes.”
“Really?” you asked shyly, looking down when something told you that the lady was looking at you, even if you couldn't see it. “Well, I don't think I could shape this one, it's too small.”
“Nonsense, it's perfect, just look at me,” Angie said, pointing at herself and eclipsing your daily observation of the lady. “I'm not very big either. Listen, silly, I want you to shape that bush, like me.”
“Don't pay attention to her,” Lady Beneviento's hoarse voice interrupted that strange request as her veil danced while shaking her head.
“Y-Yes, of course, my lady, I…” you stammered, cursing your shy personality under your breath. “W-Well, I wouldn't mind trying and…”
“Yes, and let it be life-size!” the doll exclaimed, comically waving her arms.
“Angie, lasciala estare,” the lady reprimanded the doll, making her return to her side with a gesture of her hand amid sinister laughter. “There's no need to boost her ego, don't you think?”
“Um, well, I guess you're right or, well, I don't know, I…” you stammered, unable to react to a conversation outside of the daily greeting. “Whatever you say, my lady,” you finally said, bowing slightly.
The lady nodded slowly, but didn’t move from her spot; she seemed to be waiting for something that you didn’t understand… Perhaps a conversation with someone who wasn’t made of porcelain?
“Um… um…” you continued to stammer, looking away from her, looking for a place to focus on that wasn't her addictive figure. “I hope you had a good night, my lady.”
“Mm,” she murmured in response, tilting her head as she slowly approached you, filling your senses with lavender.
“Glad to hear it,” you whispered almost without a voice as you felt her black dress brush against your work clothes, as you could see her pale hand, which reached out towards the bush. “Yes, well, I can't do miracles in this cold and…”
“Mm,” the lady murmured again, playing with a leaf in her fingers.
“Is there something wrong, my lady?” you asked nervously as you saw how she observed your work, as you could see part of her hidden face, a pale, young face.
“No,” she answered dryly, getting up again, but staying very close to you. “But you shouldn't be so busy with these bushes, the flowers are my priority.”
“Oh, I know, I'm sorry, I…” you quickly apologized, putting your hands together and taking advantage of the moment to get away from her intimidating presence.
“I haven't asked you to apologize,” she whispered in a stern tone, without looking at you.
“No, but…” you said confused, starting to notice the sweat on your hands.
“Then shut up,” Beneviento ordered you coldly, making you back away further.
“Yes, I…” you said trembling, regretting saying those words again. “I mean, okay.”
“Okay,” the woman repeated, maintaining a stoic pose again.
“Okay,” you repeated stupidly, making the red of your cheeks contrast even more with the snow. “Um…”
“What are you two playing?” Angie asked, interrupting that absurd conversation. “Are you stupid?”
“Angie,” the lady growled, with a tone that indicated a certain nervousness. The question was… was she really nervous? Why?
“Making a fool of myself… is my specialty,” you whispered embarrassed, turning your back to the lady and shaking your head.
“You aren’t making a fool of yourself, (Y/N),” the lady in black said, making your blood run cold. “You're natural, I like it.”
“Do you like me? I mean, do you like it?” you asked timidly, letting your mind get ahead of your reasoning. “I mean, I like you too and… Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't say anything.”
“Sei divertente,” the woman murmured, followed by something very similar to a laugh that came out of her veil. You were sure that you wouldn't forget that laugh, nor that strange conversation.
“I hope that's not a bad thing,” you said blushing, playing with the clippers, but unable to look at the lady.
“No,” she answered dryly, shaking her head, finally walking away from you while gesturing to her doll.
“Okay, I... thank you,” you said confused, bowing as she walked away from you elegantly, carrying Angie in her arms. “Thank you, Donna...”
For a moment you stood enthralled, watching as the black figure slowly moved away, sighing because you knew that the attraction you felt for her was much more than simple curiosity.
Anyone with eyes, or ears could tell the chemistry between you, but it was something you tried to ignore.
Her body was perfect, her words were beautiful like a soothing lullaby, but… Donna Beneviento wasn't one of the girls from the village, who you had some kind of relationships with, she was much more; she was a Lord.
With all the sleepwalking and strange things happening to you, you barely had time to process an internal truth that was running through your heart. You couldn't deny it, but you didn't want to see it: you were madly in love with her.
But love, or what you believed was some kind of platonic feeling, wasn't made for you, not with her, at least. Anyway, if you wanted to stay with her, your job as a gardener was your priority.
“You clumsy fool,” you lamented, ignoring the bush and approaching a corner of yellow flowers, the ones you knew you had to be careful with. “What are you thinking? It's impossible, (Y/N), you don't even know her, you don't even…. Oh, damn!” you screamed as you felt a thorn sticking into your skin, expelling drops of warm blood towards the white snow.
You already had enough distractions and worries, you couldn't think about what you felt for the lady, or you would do yourself much more harm than a simple prick.
“Okay, great, you're great,” you said, sighing and looking away from your wound. “Okay, strange woman, get out of my thoughts,” you added, gesturing comically.
Before you could think about what had happened, an unpleasant feeling took over. It wasn’t just a feeling, but a strange chill on the back of your neck, an uneasiness in your stomach, the unmistakable symptoms that told you that something, or someone, was watching you.
Instinctively you turned around looking for those stalking eyes you thought were watching. A black raven, which flew away at the sight of you, was your only answer. You were so busy thinking about Lady Beneviento that you almost forgot the void in your past, that darkness in your memory, all the strange things that happened to you.
But, between thinking about Donna, fantasizing about what it would be like to really meet her, seeing what her face was like, and trying to get answers about everything that was happening to you… Well, thinking about the lady was much better.
Unfortunately, she didn’t appear on the paths again, and the rest of the day passed with a disturbing calm. The silence of the plants was overwhelming, and your thoughts echoed in your head much louder than usual.
At night, as you got into bed, you wished you would wake up like that morning while you were rehearsing conversations with the lady in black, something that wouldn't make you look stupid, as you almost always did when you spoke to her.
But the work was exhausting, and sleep overcame you before you could imagine, once again, what her smile would be like.
The images in your dreams were quite confusing, but recurring: crows, laughter, darkness, and Donna, always Donna. The feeling that someone was chasing you forced you to move away from her black veil before lifting it, and anguish and confusion always prevailed over your dream wishes.
But the dreams barely lasted. The nightmares weren’t with your eyes closed, but upon awakening. The warmth of your body was a good sign. Something was covering you as your eyes tried with great effort to open. Your head was spinning, like a night out with your friends, but without the taste of alcohol on your lips.
At least it seemed like you had woken up in your bed, right?
Your vision was clearing as your back began to not recognize your old mattress, indicating to you that maybe, just maybe, that wasn't your bed.
Wood, humidity, paint... all those new smells began to run through your nose as your eyes focused on your surroundings. You weren't at home.
When you sat up, the blanket covering you slid down your body and panic began to make your heart beat too fast. That dark wood, the timid light, that table, those chairs... you knew where you were: in the Beneviento Manor.
You had only been in that house twice, but it was enough to remember it, to recognize the dampness of the walls, the timid sound of the waterfall coming through the window. But that wasn't the worst of it.
When your brain fully woke up, it detected something, a presence that climbed onto the couch and almost gave you a heart attack.
“Hey, silly! It's time to wake up!” Angie sang in a squeaky voice, making you jump exaggeratedly.
“Shit, shit!” you screamed, nervously kicking until, with a thud, you fell off the couch. “Ouch! Ouch…”
Trying to regain your composure, you got up from the floor, your nerves on edge and starting to feel the cold seeping through your pajamas. The worst of all was that you had overlooked the figure sitting in front of you, watching you in silence: Donna.
“Oh, my lady!” you exclaimed with an apologetic gesture, watching as her veil moved to follow you with her gaze. “What…? I-I don't understand… what am I doing here?” you asked confused and scared.
“What am I doing here? What am I doing here?” Angie mocked, repeating your words while the ventriloquist remained silent. “You're stupid!”
“Um, -I-I don't know what's going on, I… my head,” you complained, letting yourself fall on the couch and burying your face in your hands.
“Last night you seemed to know it,” the lady in black murmured, finally getting up from the chair, maintaining an authoritative posture.
“What? I don't… I don't remember anything, I went to sleep and…” you murmured, trying, with all your effort, to remember.
“Allow me to correct you,” the lady said, crossing her arms and getting a little closer. “Last night you came to my house, rambling about some crows that were chasing you,” she explained, leaving you completely pale.
“Me? But, but…” you stammered, shaking your head, your whole body shaking. “No, that…”
“Are you calling me a liar, giardiniera?” she asked in a demanding tone, getting even closer.
“What? No, no, I… I have no idea what you're talking about, my lady,” you explained with fear taking over your words. “I don't remember anything, I…”
“My lady? How bold, am I your lady now?” Donna asked, with a mocking voice and a marked accent. She seemed nervous too. “Last night I was just Donna.”
“I'm sorry, my lady, but, but... I don't understand anything,” you whispered, curling up on the couch, with your knees pulled up to your chest.
“You don’t understand anything,” she replied, with her fists clenched on either side of her hips. “What kind of game are you trying to play with me, gardener? What are you trying to do?”
“I-I don't know what you’re talking about... I don't, I don't know, I...” you stammered, with tears beginning to form in your eyes, feeling more and more helpless. “I don't know what happened to me.”
“Hey!” the doll shrieked, watching you. “Hey, Donna! I think she's telling the truth.”
“Mm?”
The situation was too tense. Your best weapon at that moment, the only one you had, was the truth.
“I… it's just…” you began, trying hard not to tremble too much, not to make the blush on your cheeks too evident. “I-it's been happening to me for a while now.”
“Mm,” the lady murmured, making a patient gesture with her head, indicating for you to continue.
“S-Sometimes, at night… I don't know, I do things… I wake up in strange places, outside of my bed and… I-I don't know… I think, I think I'm sleepwalking,” you said nervously, looking anywhere but at the woman in black. “But I don't remember anything of what happened and…”
“You don't remember anything,” Donna repeated with a slightly calmer voice.
“Nothing,” you confirmed with a sigh.
“Niente”
“N-niente,” you stammered.
“Mm, how curious,” she finally said, sitting down again in front of you. “I was hoping you would remember what you told me before you fainted in my arms.”
Your eyes flew open and your heart stopped. You were unable to move a single muscle and the exit was too far away. You had no escape, and above all, you had no idea what she was referring to.
“Did I faint?” you asked in a small voice, making the doll laugh in amusement. “I don’t…”
“You don’t remember,” Donna finished the sentence for you, shaking her head.
You just nodded, preparing yourself for the worst.
“B-But I surely didn't mean it, I was just dreaming and… if I said something wrong, I beg you to forgive me and…” you said fearfully, kneeling submissively on the floor and bowing your head while you joined your hands.
“Yes, it would surely be a lie,” the lady in black sighed with a sad tone, bringing you a steaming cup. “Get up, gardener.”
“Y-yes,” you sobbed timidly, obeying your mistress's orders.
“Here, it's tea, it will calm the cold,” she offered, to which you, reluctant, took the cup from her hands.
“T-Thank you… I promise it won't happen again,” you apologized, unable to look at her black veil, at the place where her gaze was, one that you only knew from an old portrait on the stairs.
“Mm,” she murmured, before standing up with a brusque gesture and gesturing to her doll. “Angie.”
“You are stupid,” the puppet growled at you before leaving slowly.
Doubt was killing you, not knowing was consuming you, what could you have said to Lady Beneviento? Was your job in danger? Maybe that tea was the last of your life? You wanted to know, you needed to know.
“Excuse me, my lady, wait, please,” you said, leaving the cup on the table and standing up, playing with your hands.
The lady's steps slowly stopped, and the veil on her face danced towards you again.
“Finish the tea and get out of my house,” she ordered you sternly, not letting you speak.
“Yes, but… I-I would like…” you said without thinking, getting closer to the black figure, trembling with fear. “I would like to know what I told you, my lady.”
“Mm,” Donna murmured in response, sighing slowly. “You only told lies, (Y/N).”
“I don't understand,” you denied more confused. “What kind of lies?”
“You said that I was beautiful,” she finally whispered, looking away from you with her invisible gaze.
Your blood froze again.
“W-What? Did I say that?” you asked without believing it. You would never say something like that, even if you thought about it, even if every day you hoped to see her heels in the snow, the black against the white, the lavender around you. “Oh, I-I…”
“Taci,” your lady scolded you. “This is the last time your stupid dreams interrupt my tranquility with absurd lies, is that clear?”
“B-But,” you stammered. “My lady, I…”
“Hey, you forgot about dinner,” Angie added, comically tugging at her owner's dress.
“Oh, certo,” Donna sighed, a mocking air in her words. “You also invited me to dinner. Do you find it funny?”
“What? Me?” you asked confused, pointing at yourself.
“Basta, get out before I regret leaving you alive. No one laughs at me, do you hear me? No one!” the lady interrupted, kicking the wooden floor. “I should punish you for this, but Mother Miranda sent you to my care so I'll be merciful, for once. But I don't do favors twice, (Y/N), so…”
“Actually…” you started, trying to save that horrible situation. “It would be an honor to have dinner with you, my lady.”
“Mm, you're so stupid,” Donna laughed, crossing her arms while Angie watched the conversation closely. “Don't make me angry, stupid gardener, get out before I…”
“Yes, I… I'm sorry, my lady, it won't happen again, my lady,” you apologized, walking towards the door, trying to escape as quickly as possible.
It could have been the most awkward moment of your life, but something inside you made you stop with your hand on the door, looking at the ravages of your sleepwalking as an opportunity, not as a mistake.
That little spark of daring was totally unknown to you. You would never have considered continuing to pull the string of her patience. Something was definitely wrong with you.
The stoic look of that portrait penetrated your mind, forcing you to make the most absurd move of your life.
“My lady,” you said with a weak voice, but strangely comfortable and soft. “I truly think you’re beautiful.”
“Mm?” she murmured, bewildered, shaking her head. “Don't you get tired of pissing me off?”
“I... well, I may not remember anything of what happened last night but... I would like to have dinner with you, if you want,” you asked with a strange confidence, with a knot in your stomach.
“You keep insisting, stupida...” the lady hissed, calming down instantly. “Va bene, at 8... and don't you dare to be late. If it's a trick, (Y/N), you'll pay the consequences, now go away.”
You nodded and obeyed. A date with Donna Beneviento? You had dreamed about it so many times that it seemed impossible.
It wasn't a memorable dinner, it was just awkward, strange. The lady in black definitely didn't believe that you made the effort to have dinner with her of your own free will, and even for you it was hard to believe that you were having dinner with her. Confidence was something completely unknown to you, to your shy and gentle character.
It could be something isolated, a test of loyalty or trust in your lady, but Donna insisted. That situation was repeated for the rest of the week.
Laughter, absurd conversations about your life in the village... Little by little, having dinner with Donna became routine, the term "my lady" disappeared, and the love that grew inside you was increasingly bigger, more evident.
The chemistry between you was clearly shown after several days. The lady in black wasn't completely sure that your smiles were sincere, but, like you, and that side of your personality that you had just discovered, she simply let herself go.
The rumors about Beneviento slowly dissipated with each of her shy laughs, her soft and flattering words. She was sick, yes, the blessing of the Gods wasn’t favorable to her, or so she told you, but she was far, too far from being the monster everyone was talking about.
“Aren't you cold? Waking up in the middle of the forest doesn't seem healthy,”-she asked one of those nights of endless chatter, looking at you curiously.
“The truth is that the answer will seem strange to you but...” you said, taking a sip of your glass of wine. “I feel the cold, but it doesn't seem to affect me.”
“Mm,” Donna murmured in response, slightly moving her veil to eat. “I'm surprised you haven't caught a cold.”
You laughed, shaking your head and looking away from the little you could see of her face, from the internal reconstruction your head made of what was undoubtedly a terribly beautiful woman.
“This may seem almost impossible to you, but I haven't gotten sick in a long time,” you explained, frowning, remembering all the strange things that happened while you were falling more and more in love with Donna.
“You could say you're lucky, (Y/N), and so are my flowers,” the lady answered, nodding elegantly. “I don't think I could, I mean, they couldn't live without your care.”
The blush returned to your cheeks, but melancholy took over you.
“I don't think I could live without you either, I mean, without these delicious dinners and... Wow, I... I should stop drinking, I'm just talking nonsense,” you said nervously, noticing the heat of embarrassment on your skin.
“You always say nonsense, like that I'm beautiful,” she murmured, shaking her head again and sighing.
“It's not nonsense,” you answered with a mischievous smile, encouraged by the wine. “I wish I had the courage to tell you when I was awake.”
“Do you always say things like that when you're asleep? The people around you should feel lucky,” Donna commented, playing with her fork, but listening attentively.
“Actually... I haven't always been a sleepwalker,” you said, ignoring that veiled compliment. “Something happened to me a while ago, something that... I still can't explain... there's a fog in my memories, and I can't stop thinking maybe everything that happens to me happens because of that and... well, it doesn't matter.”
“You're right, it doesn't matter,” she said, with a serious tone, getting up from her chair and approaching you again. “Thanks to that, you're with me.”
“I l-like being with you, Donna,” you stammered, taking the hand she offered you, gently getting up until you were at her height.
“You like being with me,” she repeated laughing, bringing her hands close to your face, caressing it erratically. “I like being with you.”
“Great, I guess, I…” you stammered, feeling terribly nervous, noticing on your skin, in your heart, the anticipation of an impossible kiss.
Before you could do anything, her hands moved away from your skin, going straight to the fabric that covered her face, finally revealing to you the beauty you dreamed of.
“Surely you are regretting it now,” the lady sighed, looking down while you, open-mouthed, studied her features.
She was… she was really beautiful. Her black hair, tied in a messy bun, framed her pale skin harmoniously. A horrible scar hid her right eye, being the reason why she always wore the veil. Nonsense, her beauty was so overwhelming that you almost fainted when you saw it with your own eyes.
“Yes, it's true,” you sighed, looking at her lips, gently grabbing her waist, which trembled at your touch. “I regret not telling you before.”
Her eye opened wide and a slight smile appeared on her lips, which were quickly kidnapped by yours in a passionate, wild kiss.
Her hands grabbed the back of your neck, pulling your body closer to hers in a frenetic dance, full of gasps, without words, just kisses, only the moisture of her lips on yours resonating in the old walls.
Passion took over the room, and your bodies, refusing to separate, roamed it erratically, looking for some safe place to rest, to merge. Unfortunately, just when your hands began to roam freely, Donna stopped, pulling away among gasps.
“No, wait…” she sighed, blinking nervously. “Y-You better go, (Y/N).”
“Have I done something wrong?” you asked scared. “Am I going too fast?”
“No, no, io…” she stammered, shaking her head and grabbing your hands, looking at you with sadness, a strange sadness. “Will you come to dinner with me tomorrow?”
“What?” you asked frowning, laughing nervously. “Um… yes, of course but… I-I don't know, don't you want me to stay with you? We were having a good time, right?”
“Yes,” she answered quickly, squeezing your hands in hers. “Yes, but… but… I prefer you to go, (Y/N).”
“Oh,” you sighed disappointed. “Of course, I… I didn't want to make you uncomfortable, I just…”
“I know, I…” she stammered, while the Angie doll, always watching, shook her head, surely rejecting the lady's behavior. “B-But flowers don't take care of themselves. I-I mean, you're still my gardener and…”
“Flowers,” you said with a bit of resentment, searching for an answer for that sudden change in behavior, one that, of course, you weren't able to find. “S-So… see you tomorrow?”
“Sure,” Donna whispered when you let her hands go, running away before you took one more step. “Un attimo…”
After that whisper, your lips were blessed with one last kiss, a quick one, but just as passionate.
Her attitude was truly confusing, and you didn't know what to think, but you did know what to feel. She felt the same as you, and you couldn't blame her for being scared, or for feeling insecure. The best thing would be, as always, to let yourself go.
Of course, it wasn't your last kiss, nor your last dinner. Every night, the same situation was repeated: a delicious dinner, with her beauty already on display, caresses, glances, insatiable kisses that Donna always interrupted and above all, rejection.
Rejection of something more, of spending the night with her, of talking about what you were exactly, what you were to her. Your little nocturnal problem continued to haunt you, but it was no longer a problem.
Donna was the only thing that worried you. You were worried about the love you felt for her, not knowing what prevented her from declaring herself to you, what prevented her from asking you to be with her not only at night, but all day.
You couldn't complain, but as time went by, the situation became more and more uncomfortable.
You insisted on loving her, she rejected you. It could be because of the changes the Gods made to her body, but you knew there was something much deeper that prevented her from giving herself to you completely, something you began to write down in your old diary, forgetting about the strange places you used to wake up in.
“(Y/N)…” the lady protested when your kisses began to descend down her neck, while your body rested on hers, in the intimacy of the old sofa.
“Mm… yes, it’s time, I'm leaving,” you sighed disappointed, getting up after giving your lover one last kiss and walking towards your coat.
“Are you leaving, silly?” Angie asked as you wrapped yourself up, this time, without letting the lady give you one of those goodbye kisses that made you melt.
“Yes, I'm leaving,” you said with a slightly furious tone, tired of being patient, of understanding what was going through her mind. “It seems that I always have to leave.”
“Oh, that sounded like a complaint, silly gardener,” the doll scolded you, while the lady grabbed your waist from behind, kissing your hair.
“I'll see you tomorrow, vero?” Donna whispered in your ear, but your smile didn't widen like other times, you simply turned around cupping her face slightly, before separating yourself from her.
“Yes, as always,” you said in a dry tone, reaching the doorway, but taking a deep breath before disappearing. “Donna.”
“Mm?”
“I just… wanted to tell you that…” you stammered, finding in your words remnants of your former personality. “I love you.”
The lady in black looked at you and a brief smile appeared on her face, but the answer wasn’t what you expected; she simply nodded.
You had confessed, you had verbally declared the love you felt for her and… nod? Was that her answer? There was no patience left that you could use, you were almost desperate.
“Okay, that's enough,” you growled, slamming the door and crossing your arms. “A while ago you asked me what I was playing at, right? Well, it's my turn, Donna: what are you playing at?”
“Cosa? I don't understand,” she murmured, with a sad look, backing away.
“What am I to you?” you asked, approaching the withdrawn lady, intimidating her in a ridiculous way. “We've been doing this for weeks, kissing at night, caressing each other... I tell you that I love you and what's your answer?” you said with irony, mockingly imitating her previous gesture.
“D-Don't talk to me like that,” she said confused, shaking her head and blinking rapidly. “Y-You make me nervous.”
“You make me nervous,” you growled, hardening your words unconsciously, completely forgetting that, with a single gesture, she could force you to jump into the void. “What am I to you, Donna? A toy?”
“No”
“A doll? Your employee who has to work overtime? Is this part of my job? I have to take care of the flowers, and then of you? Donna, I can't take it anymore, I...” you questioned, slowly losing your nerves.
“You don't understand,” the lady hissed, changing confusion into irrational anger. “We can't, I can't...”
“What can't you do? Have sex with me? I've already told you a thousand times that I don't care if you have a...” you answered, thus beginning your first argument with her, something inevitable.
“It's not that, it's not that!” Donna shouted furious, making rationality return to your head and your body start to tremble. “You don't understand...”
“So explain it to me!” you shouted back, making the Angie doll run away from the place in a funny way, hiding under the table.
“Hey, watch your tone, gardener!” the puppet scolded you, to which you growled.
“Shut up,” you hissed. “Donna, I love you and… I, I'd like to think that I'm more than just your gardener… I want to share my life with you, do you understand?”
“I can't!” the lady in black shrieked, making her voice bounce off the walls. “I can't love you!”
“Why?” you asked, watching as her hands trembled more and more, as madness took over her.
“Because… because I… I can't stand the idea of losing you!” she finally said, sobbing, with a tear running down her cheek. “I-I can't, cazzo…”
“Lose me?” you asked a little calmer, trying, unsuccessfully, to avoid an imminent crisis, a terrible one. “Donna…”
“You don't understand, (Y/N), I can't love, I can't let my heart love you because… because I couldn't stand… seeing you… Oddio… tesoro, I can't… you, you're…”
“What am I?” you asked, approaching cautiously.
“You're mortal!” Donna screamed madly, with a burning hatred in her eyes. “You're just another villager and I… I'm going to have to see you… see you die… and I'll lose you and… and…”she said, short of breath, so you put your hands on her shoulders.
“Donna, don't… don't think about it, I… there's still a long way to go… and I'd like to spend my life with you and…” you stammered, trying to make her reason.
“I can't allow myself to fall in love with you… not when I know I'm going to lose you… I… No, no, no!” she yelled, moving her arms, pushing you away. “Porca puttana!”
“Oh, shit, don't do that,” you said scared, trying to stop her arms, which were flailing wildly, trying to stop her hands from pulling on her hair with excessive force. “Donna, please, relax.”
“Cazzo! Cazzo, cazzo!” she cursed while crying in agony. “Ti amo! Ti amo!”
“O-Okay, okay, Donna, please don't…” you whispered, unable to control her.
She was completely out of her mind, running away from your reassuring hands, hitting hard everything in her path.
“Mannaggia! Mannaggia!” the lady continued screaming, kicking the chairs, the table, hitting her head against the wood. “I can't!”
“Donna, Donna…” you called trying to hold her, but it was impossible, she was too strong.
“Who do you think you are to do this to me!?” she shouted at you, quickly grabbing you by the collar of your dress, lifting you in the air. “You have conquered me… just to make me suffer!”
“Donna, let me go… Gods… Angie!” you called to the doll, who approached cautiously.
“Donna, Donna, let her go, come on! You love her, I know it, you told me!” the doll said, also trying to calm her sick owner. “Calmati, Donna!”
The lady let you go, but that didn't stop her anger, which slowly turned into tears, falling to her knees on the floor.
“Don't die... I can't lose you, I can't... they'll kill you, they...” she stammered completely gone, lost, inconsolable.
“Shit...” Angie hissed, running to your side and climbing onto a small table while you crouched down, trying to calm your beloved. “I'll have to call her.”
“Who? What are you going to do?” you asked while fighting the spasms and uncontrolled fury of the lady.
“Mother Miranda! It's me, Angie! Donna's lost her mind again!” the doll screamed into the phone.
Mother Miranda?
After a few minutes that seemed like hours, someone knocked on the door. A shiver ran through your body when you saw the priestess with a serious look that turned sinister when she noticed your presence.
“Gods, what's wrong with you now, Donna?” the blonde asked, ignoring you and forcibly lifting her adopted daughter. “For the Gods' sake, get up, have you taken your medication?”
“Mother... she... she...” Donna sobbed, resting her head on the raven woman's chest, who sighed, caressing her reluctantly.
Miranda's grey eyes locked with yours, making you involuntarily step back and lean against a wall.
“Oh, honey... what did that stupid girl do to you?” asked the witch, continuing to comfort poor Donna.
“I haven't done anything,” you defended yourself, catching her attention again.
“She's going to...” Donna murmured, burying herself in the priestess. “She's going to die, and I love her, Mother, I love her... I love her...”
“Oh, my precious girl,” Miranda said, with a terrifyingly affectionate tone. “Calm down... everything is okay.”
“No,” the lady said unhinged again, moving away from her mother and shaking her head. “N-No, nothing is okay... Mother Miranda, please... I don't want her to die. I'll do anything for...”
“Shhh, taci, Donna,” the witch snapped, wiping the tears from her clothes and lifting the kneeling lady back up. “But how curious fate is... Now, be quiet, dear, no one is going to die.”
You, unable to do anything, terrified by the presence of the priestess, limited yourself to listening.
“No, Mother, maybe not now, but she will die and I will be alone again and…” Donna explained, desperate.
A sinister smile formed on the blonde's face, making you frown.
“No, dear, she won’t die, (Y/N) will live forever,” she commented. “Just like you.”
“What?” Donna and you asked at the same time, making a disturbing laugh bounce off the walls.
“Mm, I must admit that I didn’t expect these results, (Y/N), you were too valuable to be thrown away,” Miranda said, making you, confused, shake your head. “Tell me, girl, haven't you noticed something strange lately?”
“Yes,” you answered coldly, getting a little closer to the women. “My wounds heal on their own and at night…”
“Oh, let me guess, you lose consciousness… you wake up far from home, don’t you?” Mother Miranda whispered, making your eyes widen.
“How do you know?”
“Because I did it, (Y/N)… I must confess that you weren’t a success, but the Cadou didn’t kill you, so I decided to leave you in the hands of my little Donna in case you gave me any surprises.”
The revelation came to your head. That fog in your memories, that empty space in your memory… had it all been Miranda’s doing?
“S-So…” Donna commented, wiping away her tears. “Is (Y/N) like me?”
“Sort of… but she's a failure, aside from her sleepwalking, she's a simple villager, a waste, unfortunately,” the witch commented, leaving you with more questions than answers. “So… well, I guess it's okay if you keep her.”
“Wait, wait,” you interrupted. “Did you experiment on me? What have you done to me?”
The blonde woman didn't answer, she simply laughed softly, passing by you indifferently.
“Cheer up, dear, you're immortal,” she commented before disappearing in a black cloud, leaving you completely in shock.
“But, but, but,” you stammered, with too much information, so much that you couldn't fully take it in. “What? What does it mean?”
“Tesoro…” Donna sighed, catching you by surprise, grabbing your face with a radiant smile. “It means I won't lose you... you can be mine forever...”
“Wait a minute, Donna, I don't...” you said confused, pushing her gently. “I need time to...”
A wild and salty kiss interrupted your complaints, and a hug calmed your doubts, a strong, joyful hug, totally out of madness.
“There will be time to think, vieni,” the lady told you, pulling your wrist. “You will be mine forever, tesoro... forever...” she sighed, kissing you quickly, kisses that were hard for you to return “Now I can love you.”
“Yes, Donna, but...” you said confused, moving away subtly. “I just don't understand.”
“I want to make love to you,” she said in your ear, making your body tense and a burning heat start to rise up your legs.
“Um, I… I…” you stuttered, shaking your head, though you didn't have much time to think, as her arms lifted you into the air, leaving you on the couch.
“Per favore…” the lady begged, climbing up your hips while her lips timidly rested on the skin of your neck.
As always, there was no better option than to let yourself go and you, despite still being disoriented, decided to close your eyes and worry only about the warm of her body against yours.
“Gods, Donna…” you sighed, grabbing her face to kiss her while her hands undressed you impatiently. “Donna…”
“I won't lose you anymore, I'll never lose you,” she repeated among gasps while her nails scratched your skin, cupping your exposed breasts and your hips rubbing against hers. “Mine…”
“Yours,” you answered, with the heat of your cheeks dispelling doubts, with her cold hands contrasting with your hot skin, with electric currents running through your body every time your hips played together.
“Do you want to be mine, tesoro? Mine forever?” the lady asked, deactivating Angie with a gentle movement of her hand while playing with her own dress, thus releasing her throbbing erection, one that made your eyes shine.
“Oh, yes, I do...” you said biting your lip, overwhelmed by the reaction that your kisses provoked in her body, by that impatience, the gentle stimulation her hand made on her shaft. “Donna, Gods... you are big.”
She laughed childishly, embarrassed by your comment but focused on her task, on making you hers abruptly, on taking you after so much time full of doubts and uncertainty.
Your mouth moaned involuntarily as you noticed her heat on your wet entrance, the precise movements she made with the tip on your clit, passing, traveling, conquering your folds in such a hurried way, with that furious madness turned into pure passion.
“I want to enter you, (Y/N), I want your body to embrace me,” she sighed in your ear, repressing the desire to penetrate you quickly, playing little by little to enter your wetness, but being careful not to hurt you. “(Y/N)…”
“Yes, Donna… fuck…” you said in the middle of a frenzy of moans and desperate movements of your hips, wanting to fulfill her wish, wanting to fulfill yours.
“No…” Donna protested, moving away and pulling your hair as a punishment. “Don't talk like that. Pretty girls don't talk like that,” she whispered, biting your lip, like a sinister threat that made you lose control more and more.
“Mm, and what do pretty girls do?” you asked in a suggestive tone, sliding down so that her erection was once again impregnated with your arousal, joining your hand to hers, going up and down her skin, making the lady moan in a tremendously erotic way.
“Pretty girls... let themselves be taken care of...” she whispered in her melodic voice, interrupted by the moans caused by being masturbated by you. “Cazzo...”
“Mm, who's saying bad words now?” you joked, completely losing track of what had happened, letting yourself be carried away by passion as you placed your body in the correct position and slowly introduced the tip inside you.
“Mm…” the lady murmured, pushing herself inside you, stretching your body as your legs parted to make room for her.
The sensation was overwhelming, even a little uncomfortable at first, but your new character, one that surely had to do with what that witch had done, prevented you from feeling anything but pleasure.
“Yes, yes Donna!” you screamed as you noticed how she slid down your walls, how you covered her with your wetness while her hips moved wildly, possessively, desperately.
“Ti amo… ti amo!” she cried euphorically, grabbing your legs to move you as she pleased while emphasizing her thrusts. “You feel so good…”
“Gods, you too!” you moaned, closing your eyes, wanting only to feel pleasure, only to feel her, awakening, unintentionally, one of your wet nighttime fantasies. “Donna, do it inside, fill me!”
“Oh, yes, tesoro, of course I will… you will carry my seed inside you… no one will be able to touch you… you will be mine!” she moaned as she let your movements guide her as you wanted.
“Yes, yes!” you shrieked, hitting the couch, being stopped by her firm hand, by her bright eye looking at you with a chilling desire. “Make me a mother, my love! I want to have your babies!”
“Yes, yes, tesoro… Cazzo, it's… it's too much… I'm going to…” the lady in black growled, moving faster and faster as your premature orgasm squeezed her body with intensity and your screams of pleasure reverberated in the old mansion.
“Fill me!” you screamed in the euphoria of your orgasm, noticing how, after an embarrassed gasp, her seed began to fill you and her movements ceased, staying very close, as deep inside you as she could.
Wet kisses, caresses, whispers… after that lustful act, there was only love, the realization that you would always have each other, that she was yours, and you were hers.
“Um, (Y/N)… I…” Donna murmured, finally pulling out of you with an embarrassed face. “I don't know if I'm ready to… have a baby …”
“Oh, Donna, honey…” you said amused, caressing her face. “Don't give it any importance, it's just a fantasy.”
“A fantasy? Can you explain it to me? I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about,” she said, a little confused, looking at you curiously.
“Mm, well, I guess I have all eternity to explain it to you but… now… how about you make me yours again?”
If I remember correctly, you once mentioned that if you weren’t writing for Donna, you would consider writing for Mother Miranda. I was just curious if you’ve ever thought about pursuing that—maybe writing for both characters or even making a complete switch to Mother Miranda?
And btw, love your Donna content! You’re amazing! ;)
Hi, anon!!! I hope you're doing well too!!
Yeah, you're right, some time ago an anon asked me that!! Well, I answered that I'd write about Mother Miranda, it's a very intereting character, no doubt.
Buuuut, Donna exists and I'll write only about her.
I'm not telling you that I will never write Miranda one-shots, because, who knows?
Maybee insecure reader x donna?? Ome day reader went to the village to do some shopping unfortunately she met some mean boys there who started commenting on her body and her purchases. Reader comes home crying which worries Donna. Reader locks herself up and stops eating. One evening Donna find reader crying again and confronts her
A lot of fluff at the end pleaseee!!
Yess!!!! I'm sorry about the plot twist, I know you didn't ask me to do it but, seriously, I couldn't help it!! Anyway, thank you for your request! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!! :)))))
Summary: You hated looking yourself in the mirror that morning...
N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open!!! I'm waiting yours!!! I love you all!!! Well, I have to say that: Be careful with those complexes. Be healthy, and be yourselves, always! All the bodies are beautiful!!!
“Oh, come on,” you protested as you tried to tie your dress.
Turning around a little, you looked at yourself in the mirror to check if the garment you had chosen was really as tight as it seemed. Your hands ran over your hips, your belly and your gaze darkened a little. The echoes of the past began to sound in your mind like a distant and mocking whisper, but before they could be heard more clearly, some hands on your waist calmed them down.
“Donna,” you sighed with a tender smile, noticing how the dollmaker's hands hugged you subtly while her lips rested on your cheek.
“Mm?” the brunette murmured. “Tutto bene?”
“What? Oh, yes,” you answered amused, leaning your body on hers slowly, letting yourself be impregnated by the scent of lavender that always accompanied her. “I was wondering if… this dress looks good on me.”
“The dress?” Donna asked, frowning. “What's wrong with it?”
“Nothing, it's just that it looks very… tight,” you sighed, concentrating on your reflection, to which Donna imitated your gesture. “You don't think so?”
“Mm,” the lady answered dryly, shaking her head and capturing your lips in a mischievous way. “You look beautiful, tesoro.”
“Okay, okay,” you said amused, trying to escape from her addictive kisses. “Hey, Donna, I have, I have to go”
“No, stay,” your girlfriend whispered to you seductively, turning your body and tying your waist tightly. “Stay.”
“Tempting,” you whispered, biting your lip and resting your hands on her chest. “But I can't, Donna, I have to pick up the cake.”
The lady in black moved away with a gesture of surrender.
“I still don't understand why you have to order a cake from those villagers, I can make it much better,” she said, cooling her gaze. “You know I don't like you going to the village alone and…”
“Donna,” you said with a stern, firm tone, putting your hands on your hips. “What did we say about jealousy?”
The woman tensed and looked away, crossing her arms.
“It’s not jealousy,” she said in a childish tone. “Remember that you were dizzy yesterday, I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
“Yesterday?” you asked. “Oh, yeah, well… you know, playing hide and seek with Angie makes anyone dizzy,” you concluded, downplaying it and leaving the bedroom.
“I could make a better cake,” Donna said, comically following you through the dark basement hallways.
“Honey,” you said, stopping abruptly and planting a soft kiss on her lips to silence any further protests. “Going out for some fresh air it’s good.”
“Ma…,” she protested, silenced again by your eager, tender lips.
“It's our anniversary,” you said with a calm sigh, caressing her cheek, suppressing a giggle. “It wouldn't be right for you to spend the morning cooking.”
“Certo,” the lady finally said, giving in to your weak arguments. “But, hey, (Y/N).”
“Mm?”
“Be careful, okay? I don't like you going out,” she whispered, ashamed of her nerves, of her somewhat absurd worries. Luckily, you were quite used to her behavior.
“I always be,” you joked, winking at the lady as you walked out the front door and felt the cutting cold of that place calm your discomfort. “Hey, wait, wait,” you said amused, running back into her arms, kissing her before calmly retreating.
Donna laughed blushingly and, as always when you left the house, she kept watching you until you turned the corner that led to the elevator, ready for a day of shopping in the village.
You were never a self-confident girl, you never believed in yourself or believed you were worthy of love or affection.
You remembered looking with some envy at the maids of the castle, looking at their perfect bodies, their uniforms dancing as they walked and dreaming, one day, of being like them. The lack of friends and sadness made you overweight and, for a girl like you, that was your downfall.
The mockery and laughter still remained in the depths of your mind, and although you managed to get out of there, keep yourself healthy with great effort, and start to stop listening to those mockeries, they would never disappear completely.
At 20 years old, you were a shy girl, but with enough confidence to stop listening to the laughter of your classmates and start to live far from the past. Your body wasn’t the most perfect, but you felt good about yourself.
Maybe that somewhat changing attitude was what attracted her attention.
At the masses in honor of the Black Gods you were just a villager looking for her place in that depressing village, but you were never alone. The Four Lords and Mother Miranda were always there, to remind you why you prayed, why you needed them. Of course when you were a girl you believed what the priestess said, you believed that everyone had salvation, that the Gods could help you, but it wasn’t like that.
No God helped you. Boredom and the feeling of obligation in those horrible masses made you distract yourself, starting to analyze the figures in front of you instead of listening to Mother Miranda's words. Dimitrescu, Heisenberg, Moreau, Beneviento; four founding families and four descendants who were chosen by the Gods.
Each one was stranger than the last, but there was one... a woman dressed in black that your eyes began to focus on for longer than usual.
Donna Beneviento, the youngest of them, was mysterious, captivating; a slender and gloomy figure which always remained silent, despite the sinister living doll she always carried in her arms.
Day after day you looked for new details in her dress, in the veil that covered her face, in her apparently soft hands, in her pale skin. Your observations were written down in your mind, and they waited to be completed, to know what was behind that black veil, behind that silent woman.
Of course, you weren’t as discreet as you thought, and one day, she approached you. Despite your logical fear of that situation, you remained calm while that doll, Angie, questioned you about your tireless glances.
Your clumsy response didn’t generate a punishment or a threat, but an invitation, an invitation to have tea that would be the beginning of your new life.
Donna was a strange woman, extremely quiet and shy, watching you through her veil. It was weird at first, but soon you got used to her silent gaze, her soft words and her hoarse voice, you got too used to it.
Love came like a miracle into your life, two years ago, two years since that first kiss, the revelation of her face, her beauty. She was a terribly beautiful woman. The scar on her face and the gifts the Gods gave her weren’t important to you.
At first the dollmaker was possessive, jealous, claiming you as hers whenever she could, but you didn't blame her for it. Despite that, and the illness of her mind, you discovered something wonderful in the dollmaker, the woman of your life.
“Good morning,” you said as you entered the old bakery.
The woman who served the customers greeted you with a bow that made you frown, but to which you were already accustomed.
“My lady,” she said, to which you rolled your eyes, approaching casually.
“Mrs. Dinovic, you don't have to treat me that way,” you said amused, shaking your head. “I'm just (Y/N), the same old (Y/N).”
“Of course,” the woman said, nodding uncertainly. “Forgive me, (Y/N). I'm just not used to… Well, to…”
“Bah, don't give it any importance,” you said, interrupting yet another apology, an apology that deep down, you adored. “Do you have my order?”
“Of course, (Y/N),” she nodded, taking a wrapped cake that she put on the counter, and which you gave an anxious look to while rubbing your hands. “Are you celebrating something?”
“Yes,” you said satisfied, grabbing the package carefully. “Today marks two years since I moved in with Donna.”
“Oh, um… congratulations,” the old lady said shyly. “I'm glad to see that you're happy, you deserve it.”
“Is that chocolate over there?” you asked, irrationally attracted to some bars that stood out on a shelf.
“The Duke has provided us new outdoor items. According to him, it's the best chocolate in the world,” the baker stated, handing you one of the bars.
“The Duke thinks that anything he sells is the best in the world,” you sighed amused, looking at the bar. “But... you've convinced me, I'll take a couple of them. Tell me how much everything is.”
“Gods, it's a gift (Y/N),” the old woman said, with an almost fearful look that made you sigh and roll your eyes again.
“No way,” you stated, taking a bag of coins out of your bag. “Would you dare to refuse Lady Beneviento’s money?” you joked, leaving the bag on the counter.
The woman laughed and shook her head.
“Good point, (Y/N),” she finally sighed, taking the money. “By the way…”
“Yes?”
“Y-You look good, sweetie,” she commented, making a genuine smile appear on your face.
Maybe the tight dress thing was an exaggeration.
“Thank you, Mrs. Dinovic,” you said goodbye, taking the cake and the chocolate bars, comically maneuvering to be able to carry everything.
Walking back to the mansion, you felt a heat in your cheeks as you thought about that compliment, deciding to open some chocolate, which, for some reason, you really wanted.
“Damn Duke, he's right,” you said with your mouth full, delighting in the sweet taste of the chocolate as you walked, approving his products. “I have to tell Donna to order more, of… oh, boy,” you lamented when one of the bars fell to the snowy ground.
Clumsily you bent down to pick it up, noticing a certain discomfort in your back that you didn't have before. As you approached your target, a quick hand pulled it out of your reach.
“Did you lose something, (Y/N)?” a male voice said, one you recognized long before you stood up again.
It was one of your nightmares, one of the boys who laughed at you when you were younger, the last person you wanted to see at that moment.
“Well, thank you,” you said without looking him in the eyes, trying to retrieve the chocolate, which the boy mockingly pushed away. “Oh, come on…”
“You want this, Moby? I assumed so,” he said, laughing amused, but interrupted by his friend, who made a face of terror.
“Sergei, leave her alone,” his partner said, with an apologetic look. “Come on, give it back to her.”
“So she can break the size record?” the bully continued mockingly, while you began to tremble. “Eating too much chocolate is bad, (Y/N). I think you should know it.”
“Dude, stop it, don't you know where she lives?” his friend insisted, handing you the chocolate quickly and urging the boy to go away.
“At the chocolate factory apparently, isn't that right, Charlie?” Sergei mocked.
You were speechless. You may have forgotten about your past fears, your complexes, but you weren't ready to face them again, you never were.
“Leave her alone or that crazy Beneviento will come for us,” the other said, whispering in a too loud voice.
“Hey, don't mess with Donna,” you said without thinking, earning a loud laugh from the bully, who elbowed his partner.
“Yes, Iulian, don't mess with her. Beneviento is too busy enlarging the doors of her house to fit (Y/N), isn't it?” he hissed with a sinister look, still laughing.
“Shut up,” you growled, gritting your teeth and destroying one of the bars with your hands.
“What do you have there? Is that a cake? I'm sure it's just an appetizer, right?” the boy continued, making tears slowly begin to form in your eyes. “You eat many cakes a day, don't you? Look at you, you barely fit into that dress.”
“Sergei,” his friend protested, pulling his arm again. “Do you want to die?”
“Stop worrying. I'm sure that by the time the fatty gets to the mansion, we'll have had time to escape, don't you think, piggy?” he dragged out his words slowly, making them land right on your chest, which was rising and falling very fast, too fast.
“Shut up!” you shouted furiously, turning around to escape from that horrible situation, a situation that was too common in your childhood and that you didn't want to relive.
“That's it, run, piggy! But leave us some chocolate, don't eat it all!” Sergei shouted, his voice getting weaker the further away you went.
You were nervous and terribly hurt, too much to think clearly. As you walked, on the way to your shelter, with Donna, you thought about those hurtful words, about your insecurity from a while ago in front of the mirror. You knew you couldn't believe the words of that stupid villager, but something inside you repeated them constantly.
Before continuing, shedding several tears in the snow, you stopped in front of an old truck, looking at your body in one of the rearview mirrors.
Your face, red from the cold and crying, seemed to have a rounder appearance than some time ago and your belly seemed to be pressed much more against the fabric of the dress, as did your chest. Was he right?
It had been a long time since you banished your complexes, you changed your life to feel better. You kept yourself in a healthy shape and a fairly balanced diet. You didn't understand why your body was playing such a trick on you, why it was increasingly far from being attractive.
Looking at yourself in the reflection increased your crying and the speed at which you returned to the old estate, with tears and laments being your only companions.
“It's about time, silly,” the Angie doll said with a demanding pose as you entered the mansion, your face hurt by tears and an irrational trembling in your hands. “What have you brought?”
“Angie, leave me alone,” you sobbed, hanging up your coat and checking the cake had survived your frustration.
“Hey, hey, hey!” the doll snapped at you. “What's wrong with your face?”
Taking that as an attack rather than a remark due to your obvious tears, you let out a pitiful moan, shaking your head and heading towards the elevator hallway, closely followed by Angie.
“Hey, silly, I’m talking to you! Did you bring me yarn?” the doll insisted, comically tugging at your dress to slow your steps. “Hey, don’t ignore me, you silly villager!”
“Angie, leave me alone!” you shrieked, opening the door and shaking the leg the doll had grabbed. “Leave me alone, okay?”
“Ugh, stupida,” the puppet hissed, comically walking away with a cocky pose. “You’re unbearable!”
“Whatever,” you sighed as you pressed the button, going down to the basement.
Already in the kitchen, you left the cake on the counter and lowered your head, letting out an intense but discreet cry, one that of course, Donna noticed right away.
“(Y/N)?” she asked, peeking through the door and changing her expression when she saw you lamenting. “Tesoro…”
“Donna, not now, okay?” you said, removing the hands that held your face and wiped away your tears. “Donna, let me go, please…”
“Why are you crying?” she asked, exerting more force in her grip, starting to get nervous because of your attitude.
“Nothing, it's nothing, okay?” you lied, shaking your head and turning your back to the lady, taking the opportunity to pretend while you put the groceries in the fridge.
“Va bene, but, but… (Y/N), amore mio…” the lady in black sighed grabbing your wrist before you ran away again, hurting you.
“Donna, let me go, you hurt me,” you protested, childishly breaking free from her grip and leaving her with her eye wide open and her hands starting to shake. “It's nothing, okay?”
“Sono preoccupata per te, tesoro,” she sighed with an intense look, managing to drag your body close to hers. “You're crying, why are you crying? Did something happen in the village?”
“No,” you answered dryly, wiping your tears on your own and shaking your head. “Nothing happened in the village, okay?”
“You’re lying,” Donna said, her tone accusatory, a tone that revealed she didn’t believe you at all. “What happened? Answer me.”
“I told you nothing happened,” you said, a senseless anger slowly invading you.
“You're lying to me, why are you lying to me!?” the lady said, furious, stamping the floor with her shoe like a little girl. “You're hiding something from me.”
“You know what, Donna? I don't feel like listening to you, nor am I in the mood to put up with your stupid jealousy, so…” you said with an indifferent tone, with the blood boiling in your veins. “I'm going to read.”
“Jealousy? Do you think I'm jealous?” she asked, grabbing your wrist again, digging her nails into your skin. “(Y/N), please… I just, I just want to know if anyone has done anything to you.”
You stopped with a gasp, feeling more tears spilling down your cheeks as you shook your head.
“No one has done anything to me,” you lied without looking at your girlfriend's face, trying with all your might to relax.
“You know you can tell me,” the brunette insisted, cupping your face in her hands, something that made you more nervous.
Your face was rounded, imperfect; she would notice, for sure.
“No, I... no, okay? Everything is fine,” you said with a forced tone, lowering her hands, pushing away her tender caresses.
“I-If someone has hurt you... I... they will... pay for it...” she said haltingly, breathing with difficulty. “I will kill everyone who hurts you, (Y/N), I swear, I...”
“Basta, Donna,” you said with a firm tone, crossing your arms and stopping crying immediately. “I don't need you to do anything for me, okay? I can defend myself, is that clear? Just forget about your murderous madness and leave me alone, can you do that? Can you just leave me alone for a fucking minute?” you snapped, growling and storming out of the kitchen, hitting the shoulder of the lady in black in the process.
“Ma, ma… what have I done?” she muttered before you disappeared.
Luckily, she didn't follow you.
In the solitude of the bedroom, you let the tears and frustration run through you mockingly. The mirror near the closet watched you, looked at you mockingly, looked at your imperfect, swollen body, the tight seams around your waist, your breasts…
“Damn it,” you protested, hitting the mattress and getting up to change your clothes.
It really didn't help you. In the reflection, your body kept laughing at you, your rounded face kept telling you that you were horrible, that Donna would never love you looking like that.
Naturally you weren't going to give up. You had to find a solution to that old problem and above all, try not to take it out on poor Donna.
She knew about your past, about the teasing of your classmates, and she always listened and supported you but fear is irrational. Anger, sadness, laughter... all those contradictory feelings began to haunt you for the rest of the day.
Donna didn’t deserve that attitude. She didn’t deserve to be ignored just because you didn’t dare to talk about what happened.
Talking about it would be reliving it, reliving your traumas, your complexes. Remaining silent was your best option, locking yourself away was the only valid solution you found.
That day you didn’t go up to have lunch; you stayed lamenting in the bedroom, alone, with the only company of the teasing of your past, of that day that had started horribly wrong. But there was something you couldn’t avoid, the special dinner with Donna, the dinner that celebrated your two years together.
“You don't like it?” the lady asked, apparently oblivious to what had happened hours ago, to your absence during the lunch.
Sometimes Donna surprised you. She was always a bit pushy, but mysteriously, when you needed some room, she left you alone. She was a wonderful woman. You didn't want to be rude, you wanted to please her.
“I love it, darling,” you said with a fake smile, playing with your food. “Donna, I don't fancy wine,” you added with an unpleasant grimace as you saw the bottle tilt towards your glass.
“I thought you liked it,” Donna said, frowning, but obeying your request. “It's your favorite, (Y/N), I bought it for you.”
“I know but… I don't fancy it, Donna,”
Of course, wine wasn’t your best ally at that dinner, you had to remain calm, to be able to control your anxiety and not devour the delicious plate of pasta that Donna had prepared for you.
“Okay,” she said, nodding with a shy smile and lighting a candle that had gone out due to the movement. “W-Wait, are you done?” she asked again, watching you push the plate away from you.
“Ugh,” you snorted, pretending to be full, caressing your belly comically. “I'm not hungry anymore, Donna, but it was delicious.”
“Um, but…” she stammered, looking at the food. “It's almost whole, (Y/N), and you haven't eaten, you should…”
“Donna,” you said with a serious, dark tone. “It's our anniversary dinner, I'd like for once, just for once, that you stop telling me what to do, okay, honey?” you hissed furiously, but controlling your tone.
Donna nodded slowly, sad and confused by your attitude, one that you instantly regretted.
“You’re acting weird,” the lady commented after an awkward silence. “Tell me, what have I done wrong?”
“You haven't done anything wrong, Donna,” you answered instantly, shaking your head and looking with shining eyes at your unfinished plate. “Everything is fine.”
“No, nothing is fine, (Y/N),” Donna contradicted you, gently grabbing your hand. “I see sadness in your eyes, I hear it in your words, please, tesoro, talk to me, what's wrong?”
“It's not…” you began, hesitating whether to tell her what had happened, doubting whether you really needed her comfort. “It's not the best day of my life, that's all,” you finished, looking away and holding back a tear.
“I… I'm sorry, (Y/N),” she whispered, getting up and walking around the table, crouching in front of you and gently grabbing your hands. “Tell me, is there anything I can do for you?”
You smiled tenderly, blushing at the ventriloquist's gentlemanly attitude, a very distant one with the rumors that were in the village about her. If only they knew her well…
“You're a sweetheart, Donna,” you whispered, accepting her caresses and looking into her bright eye. “But I don't need anything.”
“Mm…” Donna murmured, kissing your hands and staying thoughtful. “I'm sure the cake cheers you up, vero?” she said, getting up and starting to cut that delicious cake.
“Um, no, I…” you denied, knowing that eating something so sweet wouldn't improve your problem, that you had to resist the temptation.
“Chocolate always cheers you up,” she said, serving you a piece with a smile that couldn't hide her nervousness. “Try.”
“No, I don’t feel like it,” you denied, looking away and dragging your chair a little. “I’m… I’m tired, Donna, I’d like to go to bed.”
“But, but it’s your favorite cake and…” she said, blinking erratically, watching you get up from the chair. “It’s still very early and I would like, I would like us to do something together.”
“As you wish, but in the bedroom,” you said with a tired voice and a sad, but mischievous smile.
Donna smiled, nodding effusively and accompanying you to the elevator. Luckily, you knew what to do to dissuade the lady from her constant attempts to cheer you up. You also held out some hope that some nighttime activity would make you forget. Usually, it always did.
But, it was definitely not your best day.
The kisses echoed in the old bedroom, the caresses on your skin tore through the air with a melodic breeze and your eyes only showed tenderness, love, passion. Her hands wandered through your skin, through your clothes, while her lips rested on yours fiercely, wanting to conquer what had long been hers.
Her thin and cautious fingers traced the outline of your waist and, for some reason, that made you open your eyes and put your hands on her chest.
“Wait,” you whispered with a hoarse voice, moving away from her body. “Let… let me…” you murmured nervously, approaching the lamp on the bedside table and turning it off.
“What are you doing?” the brunette asked when darkness dominated the cold room, turning on the light again. “What's wrong?”
“Well, I thought that without light it could be more… mysterious, don't you think?” you joked, attracting her again to your kisses and taking your hand out from underneath, bringing it closer to the switch.
“But, but I want to see you,” Donna protested, pulling away from your kisses with a pleading look, panting as she began to dominate your neck with her lips. “I want to see how beautiful you are.”
“No, you don't want to,” you said, abruptly moving away from the brunette, pushing her to the side. “Turn off the light, Donna.”
“What are you saying?” she asked, offended by your reaction. “What do you mean I don't want to see you?”
“Nothing,” you lied, shrugging. “I prefer the dark, darling, come on…” you said with an impatient tone.
“No, no, no, no way. Let me see you, please… I want to look at you while I make love to you,” the lady said with a caress on your cheek, placing her hips on yours again.
“Donna,” you protested as she continued, ignoring an innocent request that, for you, wasn't so innocent. “Donna, stop,” you growled, pushing the lady away from your body again. “If it's not in the dark, I don't want to do it.”
“What's wrong with you?” the brunette asked, breathing heavily, frowning and starting to lose control of her emotions.
“It's just that...” you hissed, trying to calm down. You couldn't let poor Donna suffer a crisis because of you, because of your horrible body. “Nothing, nothing's wrong.”
“Y-You're making me nervous, (Y/N), this morning...” she said, whispering, playing with the sheets. “What happened in the village?”
“I already told you that nothing happened!” you shrieked, making the woman back away, scared by your behavior.
“(Y/N)…”
“We better try to get some sleep,” you said, turning over and covering yourself with the sheets, closing your eyes and hiding a tear.
Donna didn't answer. She simply groaned in frustration and lay down next to you, turning off the light.
Sleep took a while to come, and with it images of Donna rejecting you, insulting you for your body, making fun of you. It seemed like you had overcome your problems, but you were very wrong. The encounter with those bullies made you relive your past, made you feel self-conscious again, made you feel even more insecure.
You searched and searched in your mind for a solution, a way to avoid your complexes, a way to stop Donna from despising you for your appearance. You had to do something, or rather, you had to stop doing something.
Yes, yes, the best thing for you, at that moment, was to put your appetite aside, pretend that everything was fine and lock yourself in, exactly like you did a few years ago.
“How are you?” your girlfriend asked the next morning, with everything ready for breakfast. “Are you feeling better?”
“Yes,” you said with a fake smile, leaving the infusion you prepared on the table, ignoring the growl of your stomach. “I'm fine, darling,” you affirmed again, giving the lady in black a soft kiss on the lips.
“You were crying last night,” the brunette whispered, as an informal, discreet comment. “Why didn't you wake me up?”
“Oh, well, I must have had a nightmare,” you said without giving it any importance, blowing the soft steam from your cup. “It's okay, Donna, everything is fine.”
“Mm,” she murmured distrustfully, reaching for a delicious croissant. “Cornetto?”
“No, thanks, I'll just have a tea,” you politely declined.
Donna looked at you confused, but shook her head, devouring the sweet. In other circumstances you would have been amused by the ventriloquist's voracious appetite, one that could even be comical.
But that morning the teasing of your former classmates and the envy you had of the castle maids when you were little made you irrationally angry.
“Hey, stop it,” you snapped unpleasantly, pulling her arm down so she could stop eating. “You've had three, Donna.”
“Cosa? Oh, well, you know I love them,” Donna murmured amused, with her mouth full. “You really don't want one?”
“Ugh,” you sighed, shaking your head and trying to keep your breathing calm. “Can't you stop eating?”
“Mm?” she murmured again, leaving the sweet on the plate and wiping herself with a napkin.
“Your body, look at you,” you said in a disdainful tone, to which the lady responded by blinking and looking at her black dress.
“What's wrong? Have I stained myself?” she asked amused, looking for some leftover croissant.
“How can you eat so much and have that body?” you accused, annoyed, crossing your arms and drinking your bland infusion in one gulp. “Don't you gain weight?”
“Oh, well…” she said, shaking her head. “The truth is that I can't gain or lose weight. My metabolism doesn't change, it must be a Cadou thing,” the lady explained, bringing out the darkest envy that was inside you.
“And that gives you the right to stuff yourself with food in front of me?” you asked in a mocking tone, making her innocent smile disappear from her face. “It's incredible, Donna.”
“Um, but, but…” she stuttered confused again, looking for the cause of your behavior. “What's that about?”
“Not all of us have those privileges, you know?” you exhaled, getting up from the chair. “It seems like you do it on purpose.”
“But what are you talking about? You're acting weird again,” Donna said with a weak voice, getting up from the chair and placing her hands on the table. “(Y/N), tell me what's going on, right now.”
“Donna, you should change the way you cook,” you sighed without thinking, with your mind hurt, not knowing what to do, what to say, how to face your fears without involving the woman of your life. “Pasta, pasta and more pasta… Don't you know how to cook anything else?”
“What?” she asked, frowning, offended. “I thought you liked my food.”
“I like it, but it's unhealthy, don't you see, darling?” you affirmed with a childish tone, leaving the lady even more disoriented.
“The food I prepare is healthy and balanced,” she defended herself with arrogance. “If you have a problem with that, just tell me.”
“Then why I’m that fat?” you asked in the air, pointing at your body.
“Fat? (Y/N), you're making me very nervous, I-I don't know what's going on and...” the lady said, having difficulty pronouncing the words correctly, trembling in terror at your nonsense. “T-The voices...”
“Voices? Oh, great,” you sighed abruptly, raising your hands. “Okay, keep your stupid voices, I don't feel like putting up with you.”
“(Y/N), why are you doing this to me? I didn’t do anything, I didn’t…” Donna said haltingly, sitting up, her breathing becoming increasingly labored. “I can’t…”
You, realizing how unpleasant you had been, how unfair you were to poor Donna, relaxed your expression, putting your hands on her shoulders.
“Shh, darling, calm down… Donna, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, my love,” you repeated over and over again to make her reason before a terrible crisis. “I shouldn't have spoken to you like that, forgive me, honey, please…”
“What did I do wrong?” she asked, without listening to your reassuring words. “Is it because of something I said? I-I don't know what I did wrong…”
“No, no my love, I just… I'm just in a… bad mood, dizzy and… it must, it must be the damn spring and… my love, you're hurting me,” you protested when her hand grabbed yours, too tightly.
“Don't leave me, please, please, I…” the lady said desperately, with a lost expression, out of her mind. “Don't go…”
“I'm not going anywhere, I… It's, it's better that I go down… to… to read,” you sobbed, unable to contain your helplessness. “I just need some time alone, do you understand, my love? Come on, Donna, tell me you understand.”
“Y-Yes,” she said, nodding slowly. “I-I'll give some room.”
“Thank you,” you whispered, kissing her tenderly as she loosened her grip. “It's just a phase, just that. You, you stop worrying... I love you, Donna.”
“Ti amo, (Y/N),” she replied slowly letting you go, watching you walk away again, succumbing to your old loneliness.
Nothing improved after your time alone. In the mirror, you checked to your dismay how all your clothes seemed to be a bit tight on you. It was no use telling yourself that you were exaggerating; all you saw was a chubby girl being harassed by bullies.
You stopped eating, you stopped wanting to taste the delicious dishes of the lady in black, but she, she stopped asking questions. Donna was obviously worried, but your words and requests were much more important than her worries.
You knew she sent Angie to spy on you when you went down to read, when you wanted to be alone. She knew you were crying, that something bad was happening to you, but she didn't say anything.
Until that night.
Your stomach hurt terribly, you had barely eaten a piece of fruit or an infusion. In bed, you tossed and turned trying to eliminate your appetite, but nothing worked, not even the hug, the comfort that Donna discreetly gave you, surrounding you with her arms, with the warmth of her body next to yours under the sheets.
Poor Donna, she didn't know what to do to calm your grief anymore. She was tense, desperate, almost as much as you.
The hunger was too insistent, and the lack of progress in your absurd goal of a perfect body frustrated you. Your mind was screaming at you, urgently demanding food. You were so depressed that you didn't think much of it, carefully getting up and heading to the kitchen.
The delicious cake from days ago was still shiny, calling you like a tempting snake. Your mind said yes, your stomach too, you had no other choice. Slowly you took a piece and little by little, it disappeared into your mouth.
Your useless and unhealthy improvised diet had failed and, as you wiped the chocolate from the corner of your mouth, a new reflection took over you. In a nearby pot, your swollen face shone, reminding you how unattractive you were, how much you had lost, how you had irremediably gone back in time.
“Fuck!” you shouted hitting the counter, letting the tears invade you, the regret for that delicious delicacy take over you.
You sobbed, cursed and cried for several minutes, regretting the day you were born, the day you met Donna, and imagining in your mind, the day she would abandon you.
“(Y/N),” a soft voice said, Donna, who appeared through the door, watching you in silence.
“My goodness… how long have you been there?” you asked as you dried your tears, regaining your composure.
“Long enough,” she said dryly, running to your side, hugging you without making any comment, pressing your head against your shoulder, making lavender invade you, making you want to cry even more.
“Donna,” you sobbed, burying your face in her body. “Donna, Donna…” you repeated clinging to her, letting your pain out.
“Amore mio… I'm here with you,” she whispered, with a calm tone, less impatient than in previous days. “You don't have to cry alone, tesoro…”
“You don't understand, I… I was really hungry and… I ate a piece of cake and…” you explained in the middle of crying, letting her arms, her hands, act as a buffer for your cries.
“Mm, it's normal that you're hungry, you haven't eaten for several days,” Donna said, lovingly stroking your hair.
“I know I'm weak and that I shouldn't but…” you continued sobbing. “Oh, Donna, I'm not okay.”
“I already know that,” she answered, pushing you away to dry your tears with her fingers, without stopping looking at you. “I beg you, (Y/N), tell me what's wrong.”
You moved away, looking at the floor without stopping sobbing, knowing that you couldn't hide much longer. It was the moment of truth.
“The day of our anniversary, when I went to get the cake I…” you began, taking a breath, ready to be honest. “I ran into my old classmates and they… they.”
“What, amore mio? What did they do to you?” the brunette insisted, brushing your hair away from your face, with an understanding voice that she had surely been rehearsing.
“They messed with me, they said I was fat and… then, then I looked myself in a mirror and I realized… that they're right,” you explained, noticing how little by little the pressure in your chest decreased.
“What? That's not…”
“Shut up, okay? You can say whatever you want, Donna, but I have eyes on my face, look at me, I'm a whale…” you interrupted, pointing at yourself.
“No, you're not, you're beautiful, tesoro, stop talking nonsense,” Donna said, nervous, seeing how little by little you lost your calm.
“You say that to make me feel better, but I know it's not true. My body is horrible and you… you're just with me so you're not alone, but you think the same as everyone else, that I'm a whale.”
“Stop talking nonsense, (Y/N),” the lady snapped, in a very serious, severe tone. “Your body is fine, there's nothing wrong with it, you're perfect, gorgeous, (Y/N), the most beautiful girl in the world,” she said with a sincere smile, one you couldn't believe.
“You can't deny what you see, Donna.”
“I don't see anything,” she protested, crossing her arms. “I see a beautiful girl, with a beautiful body and…”
“Stop it! Will you?” you shouted, making the brunette back away, without losing her nerves. “Look, look at me Donna, touch me,” you demanded, bringing her hand to your rounded face, to your wider hips, to your belly. “Are you going to keep denying it?”
“I can't deny something I don't believe, tesoro,” she said, grabbing your wrists to stop you. “Your body is perfect, you're a beautiful and healthy girl, you don't have any problems and... tell me, tell me who it was.” Her tone darkened little by little, a sign that she you to calm down.
“What? No,” you denied, seeing a shadow in her gaze that made you tremble. “No, Donna.”
“Tell me, (Y/N),” she asked you again, to which you shook your head. “They will pay for that.”
“Do you think you can solve everything by killing innocent people?” you protested unhinged, trying to avoid a tragedy.
“And you think the best solution to your problem is to stop eating? Angie, we're leaving!” Donna shouted, going out the door, stopped by a hand on her wrist, one that tried to pull her back.
“No, no, no, no! Donna, don't do anything!” you screamed, making your voice bounce off the walls. “Don’t do anything, honey, please, just… just hold me,” you sobbed, throwing yourself into her arms. “Hold me, Donna, please.”
She snorted, but finally fulfilled your wish, holding you tightly against her, silently, caressing your head, kissing you softly, doing everything that her erratic words couldn't do.
“I don't care about your body, (Y/N),” she whispered softly, still caressing you. “I will always love you, just the way you are. You are already perfect like this, amore mio, don't believe the words of fools. Don't you think that I don't care about my appearance?”
“It's not the same, Donna,” you whispered, miraculously calmer. “You are perfect.”
“Grazie, (Y/N), but you are very wrong,” she said amused, kissing your hair. “Neither I nor you are perfect, but we are together and perfection changes its meaning when I look at your face, when I delight in your beauty.”
“Sometimes you are too tender,” you laughed, pressing yourself against her chest. “B-But it's true that I'm getting fat. I-I don't look attractive.”
“Well, you're blind,” Donna joked, lifting your chin to slowly capture your lips in a wet, salty kiss.
“No, you're blind,” you whispered, rubbing your nose with hers, finally understanding that everything was fine, that the past tormented you, but you had to learn to ignore it. “Look at my face. Don't you think it's fatter?”
“Um, no,” she said, playing with your hands and looking at your features.
“Come on, all the dresses are too tight on me and… look, look at this, my breasts have grown,” you exhaled pointing at your body, making her mischievous eye rest on the indicated spot and move it away immediately.
“It must be your imagination,” the lady hesitated, shaking her head and fixing your hair. “You are just as beautiful as ever and your… your breasts too.”
“I was expecting that answer,” you joked, letting yourself fall back into her arms and immediately pulling away. “But I still feel… ah!” you protested when you touched your own chest, feeling a strange pain.
“What's wrong?” she asked, worried.
“Nothing, it's just that… they hurt a little,” you said frowning, running your hand over your breasts.
Donna pulled away with a strange look and looked you over meticulously from top to bottom, lifting your nightgown.
“Do they hurt?” she asked without looking at you, observing your slightly swollen belly, with a completely disoriented face.
“Yes, I don't know, it must be because I've gained weight and… Donna!” you screamed when a cold hand rested on your skin. “What are you doing?”
“Now that you mention it… you do look a little different,” the ventriloquist murmured, focusing on her exploratory caresses.
“I'm fat, aren't I?” you sighed, your smile fading at that sincerity on her lips. “I knew it, I knew that…”
“Taci,” Donna silenced you, shaking her head and looking at you with a frown. “(Y/N), tell me, when was the last time you bled?”
“What? Well… I don't know,” you said confused, surprised by her sudden nervousness. “A couple… a couple of months ago, I think, I've always been very irregular and…” As you spoke something came to your mind, a possibility you hadn't considered. “Gods, Donna, do you think that…?”
“Is it possible?” she asked quickly, grabbing one of your hands with hers, with a gleam in her eyes that led to a wide smile on your lips. “(Y/N), you're not getting fat... I think, I think you are...”
“Oh, Gods... is it true? Are we going to...?” you asked, with a different euphoria, completely forgetting about the hurtful words of those bullies, finding a wonderful meaning to those distorted reflections, to that non-existent complex that was becoming more and more evident in your body.
“Questo è il giorno più bello de la mia vitta!” the brunette shrieked, picking you up in her arms and spinning you in the air while the two of you cried with emotion. “(Y/N)!”
“Ugh, honey, put me down,” you said amused, protesting with little blows to her shoulder. “It's the happiest of mine too,” you whispered, panting from the weakness of your body. “But be careful, darling, I'm very weak.”
“Certo, you… sit down and… I'll prepare something delicious for you to eat and… please, stop getting lost in your past, okay? Now the present is the most important thing, and the future.”
“Yes, I… I've been stupid,” you said, fighting against the effusive kisses of your lover, slow, suggestive and nervous kisses. “Donna…”
“I'm sorry, it's just that I…” she said, repentant for her enthusiasm, giving you one last kiss and looking at you slowly, intensely. “You are my beautiful girl, the most beautiful in the world and… Gods… (Y/N), I don't want to hear you say nonsense one more time, okay?”
“Okay,” you nodded, making a funny gesture. “You're right, Donna, I don't care what those assholes say. I'm not perfect, but I think I could be am when I'm by your side,” you whispered into her lips, capturing them with emotion, bathing them in tears, this time, of joy.
“I'm coming, Donna, I'm coming!” a squeaky voice interrupted the moment.
The Angie doll appeared in the kitchen, quickly climbing the counter and gripping a large knife in a comical way.
“Well, who needs to be taught a lesson?” she asked in a threatening, amused tone.
“Angie,” Donna sighed, approaching the doll and taking the knife away. “Angie, we have some news to give you, (Y/N) and I are going to…”
“Oh, no, no, no, no, no…” the puppet sighed. “I'll just say one thing… I don't change diapers!”
been stalking your blog for a while and I just wanted to say I love your writing so much!! this is my time ever requesting anywhere so im sorry if anything's out of order.
is it possible for you to write something about a jealous g!p Donna with a withdrawn reader who was discarded by Mother Miranda?
Mother Miranda experimented on reader, accidentally giving them a form like a more dangerous vârcolac before deciding to hand them over to Donna once she was done since Alcina already has her daughters.
the reader is very withdrawn and usually spaces out and totally disassociates most of the time. but over time reader and Donna get closer because reader is very agreeable and likes to play with Angie.
one day, Donna and reader go to the castle for some reason and one of the Dimitrescu daughters (or Alcina) take an interest in reader and start relentlessly flirting with them.
this makes Donna go kinda crazy and she gets super jealous and possessive and decides she needs to knock reader up and show everyone who the reader belongs to.
no problem if you don't like the request or it's too dark or something, I hope you have a nice day!
Yess!!!! Thank you for your request, and sorry about the delay!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!!! :))))))
A good girl
Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem, half-vârcolac! Reader
Warnings: G!P Donna, smut, Minors DNI, dark themes, dark Donna, Donna's POV
Word count: 8,052
Summary: She's a monster, just like me...
N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open!!! I'm waiting yours!!! I love you all!!! :)) Sorry if I didn't write for too many days, but it was my birthday and I wasn't able to do it... (yes, I was born on Valentine's day, how funny) Love you!!!
“Well, well, what's the matter? Why have you called us at this time of night?” my doll, Angie, asked, with a haughty tone that made me glance at her fleetingly as a reprimand. “I hope it's important.”
Mother Miranda raised her eyebrows, but the priestess ignored the comment, gesturing for me to come closer.
“Forgive her, Mother, I...” I tried to excuse her, but I was interrupted by a raised hand that told me, without words, that I should remain silent.
“Calm down, Donna,” the blonde said softly, shaking her head and smiling sinisterly. “I don't blame Angie for her curiosity.”
Silently, I nodded again as she walked towards one of the cages in the place, discreetly indicating for me to follow her.
“Mm,” she murmured, resting her hand on the lock of one of the cages. “Come closer,” she indicated with a vague gesture, as my vision cleared enough.
Slowly, I obeyed. I took one step and another and… Suddenly a metallic sound made me step back in fear. A creature lunged at the bars, clawing, scratching, tearing the air, trying to catch one of us.
“Madonna!” I screamed in fear, moving as far away from the cage as possible, listening to desperate growls, to the agonizing sounds of that beast.
Mother Miranda laughed amused, but cautiously moved away from the claws.
“This is my lastest experiment,” Miranda said with irony. “Or rather, my latest failure. Sometimes I think I should stop trying,” she added shaking her head, standing next to me. “What do you think?”
“I-It's a… a vârcolac, vero?” I whispered, without taking my gaze away from those fierce, bloodthirsty eyes.
“Mm, perceptive,” answered the blonde, nodding. “That's what I get for trusting Moreau…” she sighed, blinking petulantly. “I don't know why I bother.”
“Sorry, Mother, but… what do you need me for?” I asked, playing nervously with my hands.
“Well… I have to say that even though it was a resounding failure… there is something about her that has caught my attention.”
“Her?” I asked immediately, looking at the monster, which seemed tireless.
“Mm,” Miranda murmured. “I thought the transformation would be permanent, but it seems somewhat unstable,” she began to explain while I looked at Angie, who was equally confused.
“W-What do I have to do?” I asked, without taking my gaze off those terrible eyes, those fangs that wanted to chew our flesh.
“What you do best, dear,” she whispered, placing a hand on the lock and opening the cage. “Now!”
I stepped back in fear, watching the monster come out of its prison, lunging straight towards us. Fear began to take over me, but Mother was there, I couldn’t let her down. Without thinking too much, I reached out my hand towards the vârcolac just before I felt its claws on my dress.
The creature stopped with a moan of pain, resting its claws on its head, suffering terribly. It folded over itself as I focused all my powers on it, subduing it, or trying to, at least.
With a roar it stood up again, resuming its attempt to attack me, but it didn't reach me. Its monstrous gaze locked with mine, and without warning, the monster began to change.
The fur covering the beast began to retract, revealing pale, seemingly soft skin. Those bright eyes stopped being horrible and greedy, and became frightened . A soft, silky mane sprouted from its head and face, mutating into that of a young, beautiful girl...
The vârcolac disappeared, and the girl it transformed into collapsed in my arms with her eyes wide open before closing them. The weight of her body forced me to hold her.
“Look at that... it worked,” the blonde commented, cautiously approaching us and observing the unconscious young woman. “Excellent, Donna.”
I held the naked girl while Miranda checked her condition meticulously, indicating after a few moments, to put her down. I obeyed carefully, laying the girl down on the cold stone, unable to take my eyes off her body, her beauty.
It seemed almost impossible that such a terrible creature could hide something so beautiful, with such an innocent look. I was always an impressionable woman.
“Well,” Miranda sighed. “It seems that after all, her transformation is reversible. A curious advance, but unfortunately it doesn't help me much.”
“Who is she?” I asked, dazzled by that inert body.
“Mm, oh, well, don't worry about it, dear,” my savior replied, putting a hand on my shoulder. “She's just a young orphan who lived on the outskirts of the village. The Duke was tired of her stealing his stuff and I... well, how could I waste an opportunity like that?”
“What's going to happen now?” I asked again, bending down to brush a lock of hair from the young woman's face, to see her calm gaze, her soft breathing, the movements of her body.
“I've already taken out everything I had to take out of her. I guess I have no other option but to discard her and…” Miranda commented, walking towards her desk, but stopping talking when she looked at me, frowning. “Donna.”
“Mm?” I said, waking up from a curious dream, from an involuntary hypnosis, sitting up, somewhat nervous.
“I thought you would help me to get rid of her, but…” the blonde said, laughing sinisterly, with a suspicious glint in her eyes. “It seems you like her.”
“Cosa? Oh, no, io…” I said nervously, shaking my head, making the veil covering my face move, revealing my embarrassment.
“Come on, Donna,” she said, slurring her words and approaching me, stepping over the young woman gracefully, with contempt. “I can't blame you. She is a beautiful girl, isn't she?”
“Yes, beautifully monstrous,” Angie added, peeking out from behind my dress.
“Mm, that's it,” Miranda joked, making a knowing gesture to the doll. “The truth is that I have wasted time and resources on this little wolf… maybe discarding it would be a waste, don't you think?”
“I don't know, Mother,” I stammered, moving away from the girl and pretending not to be nervous.
“I'll give her to you,” the blonde said, arching her eyebrows.
“What?” Angie and I said at the same time, a response that seemed to amuse the priestess even more.
“Donna, my dear, I know very well how lonely you are in that big, empty house,” she justified herself. “I think you could really use some company.”
“I’m fine, Mother,” I replied, clenching my fists.
“Please, you and I both know that’s not true,” Miranda laughed, shaking her head. “I certainly wouldn’t want to waste another experiment.”
“T-Then send her to the castle,” I protested, crossing my arms, briefly lowering my gaze to the young woman. “I’m sure Alcina will be delighted to…”
“Alcina already has three wonderful daughters, dear,” the witch interrupted. “All my children have gladly accepted my gifts. You, my dear, are the only one who hasn't done it yet... besides, I've heard that they've been getting very close to your estate lately.”
“I've got it under control, Mother,” I whispered, darkening my hidden gaze. “They're not a problem.”
“I know, Donna,” she replied, downplaying it. “But she could be a good guard dog, don't you think?”
“Um, I...” I murmured again, starting to sweat without really knowing why. “W-Well, okay,” I finally agreed, without thinking too much about it.
Miranda nodded satisfied, taking a shabby dress out of a box and putting it on the girl, making me see that, from that moment on, she was my responsibility.
“(Y/N),” she said, just before walking out the door.
“Excuse me?” I asked, glancing at the unconscious girl.
“That was her name,” the woman murmured, looking at one of the papers. “(Y/N), 22 years old, villager…” she read, before tearing the paper with contempt and a sinister smile. “But I suppose you can name her whatever you like, she's yours now.”
“T-Thank you Mother,” I said unsure, before leaving the laboratory.
I was never used to gifts. In another time a gift used to be different; my doll Angie, a dress, new shoes… Certainly nothing that had to do with the girl I was carrying in my arms.
Loneliness always accompanied me. My parents, my sister made the days much more bearable for me, a girl with complexes about her appearance, a weirdo in a strange village. But if I ever had the illusion of living a normal life, that disappeared the day my world fell apart.
One by one, they all disappeared. My sister succumbed to her illness, my parents decided to throw themselves off the cliff… Did they ever care about me? They left me even more alone, almost as if I had jumped too, almost as if I had ceased to exist.
Maybe for a moment I thought that this was the best; to leave this world, to end it all, to make the Beneviento family disappear completely. It was a fleeting thought, but one that came back to me every time my sick mind reminded me how pathetic I was, how alone I was.
I never believed in the Black Gods, they never listened to my prayers, my pleas. I had nothing left, I owed them nothing. But, like a miracle I didn’t call upon, they seemed to hear my cries of pain, my madness.
Mother Miranda came, just before I ended my life, and offered me a gift. She offered me the family I had lost, to be someone important, to be something. In my agony I reached out my hand to her, wishing with all my might to be free of the poison I ingested, to give myself a second chance.
The gift of the Gods turned out to be much more terrible than I believed. The scar on my face, my useless eye, disappeared to give way to a horrible abscess that covered part of my face. My body changed, being manipulated by the Gods, giving me things I never asked for.
When I woke up, I was no longer Donna Beneviento, but Lady Beneviento, daughter of Mother Miranda, Lord of the village.
It didn't take long for me to discover my powers, to know that I could finally instill fear in all those who once laughed at me. The changes and my deformity ceased to matter for a while, I enjoyed what the Gods gave me, I rejoiced in the pain I could cause to whomever I wanted.
My loneliness didn't disappear, but Miranda's gift could do many more things than I thought and so, Angie was born, the doll my father gave me was now my only company. She lived, she spoke, she was part of me. I thought I would finally stop being alone, but it wasn't true.
Making dolls and attending meetings with my siblings became routine for many, too many years.
Maybe I should thank Mother Miranda and the Gods, for that very different gift, that beautiful girl who rested in my arms. She was a monster, but so was I. I wondered if she ever felt the same as me.
“Let me get this straight, I mean, Mother Miranda does her experiments, and the ones that don't work for her are for us? Do we look like garbage cans?” Angie said, while I slowly placed the young girl on the bed in the guest room.
“Angie…” I whispered annoyed, covering the girl with the sheets. “It's a gift, don't be ungrateful.”
“Blah, blah, blah,” the doll mocked, jumping on the bed. “Here, my daughter, a vârcolac to keep you company, don't forget to take it out 3 times a day …”
“Will you shut up?” I protested, removing the veil from my face and blinking nervously. “She can be very useful.”
“Especially for you, right? I've seen the way you look at her,” the doll rebuked me, making me frown as I caressed that silky hair. “Listen to me, my Donna, she's dangerous.”
“I can control her,” I affirmed, I couldn't tell if as a response, or it was to myself. “Stop complaining.”
“Ugh,” the puppet protested, shaking her head. “This is a mistake, silly Donna, you'll see when...”
“W-What...” a hoarse, dark voice made us both look at the young woman, who squeezed her eyes shut, moving slowly.
I got up from the bed abruptly, studying each of her movements with caution. Angie was right, the look of that creature was still in my mind, as well as those growls were still in my ears.
“Shit, she's woken up…” Angie said, getting out of bed and hiding behind me again.
“What's going on?” the young woman's voice cleared and her frightened gaze locked with mine. No matter how hard I looked, there was no trace of that fury, of that creature.
The girl gasped not looking away from me, and backed away in bed, putting her knees to her chest.
“What now, huh?” Angie mocked, whispering.
The truth is that I hadn't thought about how to react.
“Y-You know… do you know where you are?” I asked, clearing my throat, cautiously, approaching little by little.
“Brilliant, Donna,” Angie mocked, causing me to move my arm back, to see if I could give her a warning blow.
The girl looked at me with dark eyes and slowly shook her head. Her whole body was shaking with fear, she was terrified and I… I didn't know what to do.
“Your name, do you know what your name is?” I asked in a more relaxed voice, the complete opposite of my heart, which was beating too fast.
The girl shook her head again, making a gesture of pain, looking at her hands.
“B-Blood… there, there's blood everywhere… I have to kill… I have to… No!” she stammered, gripping the sheets tightly. “I don't have to… I have to…”
“Hey, calm down, listen, I…” I interrupted, coming closer to hold her wrists, which she was shaking exaggeratedly.
“N-No, I just, I only see blood and death, just… just… you,” the girl said, stopping suddenly, looking at me scared. “I-I know you… I-I know who you are. Four Houses that dominate the village, at the service of the Gods…” she began to ramble, moving back and forth quickly, as if she were in a trance. “In life and in death… we give glory… Mother Miranda!”
“Hey, come on,” I said, trying to calm her down, without success. “Ascoltami…”
“Don’t… don’t… don’t touch me… A valley of mist, from where no one ever returns…” she continued murmuring, fleeing from my attempts to get closer. Maybe Angie was right.
“Stay still!” I yelled, losing my nerve, which made the young woman back away even more, terribly scared, covering herself completely with the sheets. “Cavolo!”
“Ugh, I see that your social skills are still as poor as ever, Donna,” Angie whispered, gaining enough courage to climb onto the bed again, walking towards the lump and knocking on it as if she were knocking on the door. “Knock, knock, weird girl.”
“N-No…” the young woman murmured.
“It's me, your friend Angie! The magnificent Angie! Don't you want to meet me? I'm a talking doll…” the puppet insisted as I slowly moved away, looking at the scene with curiosity.
“A… doll…?” she whispered peeking her head out from under the sheet slowly, looking at Angie with curiosity as the doll moved her hand in greeting.
“That's better, it's rude not to look at who's talking to you, you know?” the doll said, looking at me with a mocking gesture. “Don't pay attention to this silly Donna... she scared you, didn't she?”
The girl nodded, looking at me out of the corner of her eye, panic shining in her face.
“Forgive her, she can't help it, she has a very bad temper,” Angie whispered in her ear, making me sigh and cross my arms.
“Angie...” I hissed threateningly, catching the girl's attention again.
“Don't pay attention to her,” the doll said, sitting next to the girl, who seemed a little more relaxed. “Tell me, girl, do you have a name?”
“Yes... no... I don't know,” she answered, bringing her knees to her chest again. “This isn't a cage... am I not in a cage?”
“No, silly, you're at home, with us, we're your new owners, what do you think?” Angie asked, with her hands on her hips.
“Home...” the girl repeated, putting a hand on her belly. “My stomach hurts.”
“Are you hungry?” I asked in a soft whisper, trying not to lose my nerves.
She looked at me, but quickly looked away, as if she were afraid of me. Unfortunately, it didn’t surprise me.
“Oh, I'm sure you are,” the doll said. “Do you know that my Donna cooks very well?”
The girl didn’t move, she simply looked at me briefly again.
“I'm hungry,” she said, nodding.
“Oh, you heard it, silly Donna, go to make her something to eat,” she ordered, making me frown .“Come on, let's go.”
I snorted, clenched my fists, and resigned myself, leaving the room quickly, slamming the door. I really had no other choice. That girl was completely terrified, and I… and my appearance, didn’t help.
For some reason, Angie seemed to calm her down, so I decided to ignore my failure and, for once, obey the doll. I cooked, trying to calm myself down, repeating the same question over and over again: had it been a good idea?
“(Y/N), doesn't that name mean anything to you?” I heard Angie say as I entered the room with the food.
“Yes, I think so,” she answered, with a much more relaxed posture, without taking her eyes off the puppet.
“Of course, because it's your name, silly, (Y/N), do you like it? I can think of another one…” Angie joked, as I left the tray on the table. “Oh, dinner, eat, silly, eat.”
“I like (Y/N),” the girl said, getting a little closer to the food. “T-This doesn't smell like blood… it smells… good…” she commented, as I helped her put the tray on her lap. “Angie says you don't want to hurt me,” she told me directly, to which I sighed, shaking my head.
“Right,” I answered coldly. “As long as you behave,” I whispered afterwards, making it clear who I am. I’m a Lord, not a babysitter.
“I don't know what I have to do,” she murmured, unable to hold my gaze for more than three seconds. “I'm scared.”
“Easy, you're the new guard dog,” the doll said, to which I closed my eye and shook my head.
“Angie…” I sighed annoyed.
“G-Guard dog,” (Y/N) murmured while eating, letting me see something precious, something I would always remember: her smile. “It's delicious, did you make it?”
I nodded, smiling back, not at her words, but at her beauty, an overwhelming and mysterious beauty that made me shudder.
“Your duty is to protect the estate, to protect us, do you understand?” I insisted, making her smile fade. “Tell me you understand, (Y/N).”
“Y-Yes…” (Y/N) sighed, devouring the rest of the food. “I’m strong, I tear, I devour, I…” she murmured erratically again, putting her hands on her head. “I-It hurts…”
“Oh, yes, you are very strong,” Angie said, putting a wooden hand on her shoulder. “You like Donna's food, huh?”
She nodded with a tender smile, looking at me out of the corner of her eye.
“It's better than animals,” the young woman said, with a different glow on her face. “There's no blood, no…”
“Well, behave and Donna will make more food for you, okay?” the doll said, extending her hand towards the girl. “It's a deal, right?”
The girl hesitated, but finally shook the doll's hand, thus beginning a very strange time in my life, in our lives.
Mother Miranda's experiments on (Y/N) took their toll on her. She barely had any memories of her past, only small fragments that appeared from time to time. Her mind had been corrupted by the instincts of the creature she had become, but it was impossible not to see humanity in her gaze.
I tried to communicate with her several times, but without success. I assumed that deep down, she remembered who I was; she knew I was dangerous. I didn't give it any importance. Nothing in the world could make me forget about my dolls, about my lonely routine.
Who am I kidding… everything was different in the house. Nothing could be the same with that girl walking, exploring, spending time with Angie.
(Y/N) was withdrawn, extremely shy, but the doll seemed to like her enough to make her smile. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't jealous of Angie. Those smiles had to be mine; she was mine, after all.
She ate, slept, read, played with Angie... that's how she spent the time. Of course, I didn't want to scare her and I didn't want to make her nervous. I knew that if I did, the vârcolac inside her would wake up.
After a few quiet weeks, I began to doubt her usefulness; I began to think that instead of protecting myself, I was protecting her.
I’m a Lord, I can protect myself, I didn't need a failed experiment to do it for me, or so I repeated to myself every night. But when I closed my eyes, I could only see her face, her smile... Any thought that involved getting rid of her disappeared with the light of her gaze, with the forced innocence she gave off with every step, with every question.
“What are you thinking, Donna?” I said to myself, daydreaming again, thinking about her, about (Y/N), about the beautiful girl who lived with me, and who seemed so unattainable.
I don't even know why she seemed unattainable to me… she was mine…
“Donna, Donna!” a screech pulled me out of my dolls, Angie.
The puppet came running to the workshop, annoyingly pulling at my dress, in panic.
“Cazzo,” I swore, dropping the needle and thread and pulling the doll away from my clothes. “Angie, basta!”
“You have to come quickly, Donna, intruders, intruders in the house” the doll said, gesturing for me to pick her up.
“Intruders? What about (Y/N)?” I asked, quickly getting up from the chair and running to the elevator.
“See for yourself,” the puppet said.
When I got to the top, already covered with my black veil, there she was, (Y/N), with her hands raised. In front of her, two men from the village, pointing a shotgun at the young woman.
“I repeat, weirdo, it's not you we're after,” one of them said. “Where's Beneviento?”
“Y-You can't hurt Donna, she's nice to me, she takes care of me,” (Y/N) answered.
“You shitty guard,” Angie commented, while I hid behind a wall. For some reason, I was very curious to know how it all ended.
“Nice?” the man with the shotgun said, laughing mockingly. “Who are you, her little whore?”
“I'm the guard dog,” (Y/N) hissed, lowering her hands and kicking the floor.
A laugh bounced off the walls, the two men laughed amused at the young woman's submissive attitude.
“Oddio…” I wailed, ready to intervene.
“You? Oh, how scary…” one of the men continued mockingly. “Come on, get out of the way, weirdo.”
“You're not going to hurt Donna,” the young woman growled, her gaze darkening, her breathing quickening.
“Oh, wait, wait,” Angie indicated, leaning over the wall. “This is getting interesting.”
“You can't hurt her!” (Y/N) shrieked, her voice changing until it sounded like a furious roar.
The convulsions weren’t long in coming and, with them the familiar sound of clothes tearing, the monster's fur hiding its soft skin. The vârcolac inside her emerged, hiding her beauty, turning her into a monster that made the guests pale.
“Shit,” one of them said, throwing away the gun and running towards the door, followed by his companion.
The creature growled again, before walking quickly, chasing them towards the exit. I couldn't see what happened, only screams of agony and pleadings could be heard in the distance.
Shortly after, the mutated wolf returned, its fur covered in blood and a murderous look.
“Donna, do something... she's going to eat us,” Angie told me, while I came out of the wall and slowly approached, ready to act, to give her back her beauty.
Luckily, it wasn't necessary. The creature convulsed again, falling to the floor, turning into that beautiful young woman, the naked young woman I met weeks ago.
“(Y/N),” I said, bending down to check that she hadn't been hurt. “Tutto bene?”
The girl smiled slowly, looking at me out of the corner of her eye as she caught her breath.
“I-I don't understand,” she said in a tender voice, pushing away the monster inside her. “You always talk weird.”
“Weird?” I asked, smiling too, shaking my head. “Um, I... have they hurt you, (Y/N)?”
“N-no,” she answered, looking at her naked body. “They're gone... I made them fall off the cliff... they wanted to hurt you,” she explained, getting nervous.
“They haven't, thanks to you,” I said, reassuring her with my voice, helping her up.
“Have I been good?” the girl asked expectantly, which made me look at Angie strangely.
The doll, simply, shrugged.
“Yes, of course, (Y/N), you have protected me,” I affirmed, checking that she wasn’t really hurt. “Well done.”
“Great,” she said with a radiant smile, jumping for joy. “Have you seen me, Angie?”
“I have,” the doll said, nodding slowly. “You have earned your dinner, (Y/N).”
“Yes,” she whispered with another jump, expecting something from me, something that I didn’t understand. “So… will you continue to be nice to me? To take care of me?”
“Um, um, I…” I stammered, still not understanding her insecure and strange behavior, but finding it cute in its own way. “Of course, (Y/N), you are part of the family.”
“Family…” (Y/N) sighed, looking around. “Family? You mean…? You say that I…? I have a family? Am I your family?”
“Um yeah, sure,” I said without really knowing why, before (Y/N) pounced on me, wrapping her arms around me, pressing her head against my chest. “L-Lasciami…” I protested at the discomfort of her naked body hugging me, moving my hands away so as not to make contact with her skin, something too tempting.
“I always wanted a family,” she murmured in a sweet voice, not letting me go despite my resistance.
“Basta, basta…” I insisted, grabbing her wrists.
“Mm, I like when you talk weird,” the girl sighed, ignoring my attempts to push her away, hugging me even tighter.
“Okay, let me go,” I said in a more authoritative voice.
She finally pulled away after one last squeeze, putting on an innocent look, playing with her ankle on the floor.
“Gods… Go get dressed, will you?” I ordered her, looking away from her nakedness, something complicated, too complicated.
“I'm fine,” she said, shrugging. “I'm fine because I've made you happy.”
“You have to put some clothes on, do you hear me? You shouldn’t be naked” I told her, covering my eye with my hand to avoid looking at her curves, some attractive ones, ones in which I could lose myself forever.
“If that's what you want, I'll do it,” (Y/N) said excitedly, comically running to her room.
I sighed in relief at losing sight of her beauty, and relaxed my body, at least until I saw evil eyes watching me with interest.
“What?” I asked Angie, who didn't look away.
“Oh, oh, oh…” the doll mocked, walking around me. “You seem to like the girl a lot, huh?”
“What are you talking about?” I asked shaking my head, pretending that nothing was happening, that my heart wasn't beating too fast.
“Come on, Donna, you can't lie to me. You like the girl, just say it,” Angie said, pulling at my dress.
“Mm, she's nice, and beautiful, but that doesn't mean anything,” I admitted without problem with a slightly arrogant tone.
“Oh, sure, sure… what's that?” the doll asked, pointing at my dress, slightly deformed by a treacherous erection.
“Cazzo,” I protested, hiding my arousal as best I could. “It's just that... I... It was by accident... it's not every day that a naked girl hugs you, you know? But... but what am I doing giving explanations to my doll?” I asked again, fleeing from her words and accusations. “I'm going to the workshop and you... you should stop making stupid insinuations, is that clear?”
I could try to fool Angie, but I couldn't fool myself. I definitely liked that girl. I felt something about her that I thought I would never feel.
Love was something I had long forgotten about. I wasn't capable of feeling it, I wasn't capable of loving, or so I thought.
Even when Alcina offered me a maid to vent, I couldn't get anything but just physical pleasure. No one could ever love me, I couldn't ever love anyone, but then (Y/N) appeared: a wounded girl, her mind shattered by Mother Miranda's experiments, a girl who longed for a home, a purpose; a kind, captivating, innocent girl...
I couldn't feel that way, I felt bad for doing it, for starting to stop imagining nonexistent girls when I masturbated, and start thinking about her. I knew it was wrong, that I was taking advantage of her innocence, but I couldn't feel guilty for loving, for igniting something in my heart that I thought would never come back.
That incident with the intruders made things worse. (Y/N) began to lose the fear she had left, approaching me when I was in the workshop, asking me about my dolls, about the food I prepared for her, about the strange language she liked so much.
It was as if, knowing her purpose, knowing that she finally had a family, something inside her had been unlocked.
It was very difficult not to feel sorry for her, but it was even harder to separate myself from her warmth, from her innocent displays of affection, which, little by little, became an addiction for me.
“That's it... slowly... it's almost done,” I whispered in a patient tone, sitting on the sofa next to (Y/N), who insisted on learning to sew. I couldn't refuse her, I couldn't deny her anything.
“Today I remembered something again,” she commented, with a comical face of concentration while she embroidered on the fabric. “I remember running with an apple in my hand… I remember being very hungry.”
“That's over, (Y/N),” I said with a serious tone, placing her hands in the correct position. “You're with me now.”
“When… when I remember those bad things… I think about you and it goes away… do you have those powers?” she asked innocently, giving a last stitch to the embroidery.
“Mm, I guess I haven’t,” I said laughing tenderly, being watched by Angie, who made fun of me with exaggerated gestures. “But I'm glad you think that way… Mm… fammi dare un' occhiata…” I murmured, taking the piece of fabric,
“You've spoken weird again,” (Y/N) commented, her cheeks blushing. “Can you teach me?”
“Mm, do you want to learn Italian?” I asked, going over the seams with my fingers.
“That way I could talk weird like you,” she said with that penetrating, innocent voice, leaning over my shoulder to look at her work. “W-Well, how did I do it? I-It's my name, see? Just like you told me.”
“Mm,” I murmured with a smile, handing her the fabric back. “Not bad at all, (Y/N), soon you'll be able to help me with the dolls, what do you think?”
“Oh, really? I'd like that,” the girl said enthusiastically, smiling and hugging me again. I never got used to her hugs. “I want to help you”
I smiled again, letting my hand travel to her head, placing a lock of hair behind her ear and sighing in a melancholic way.
She smiled back at me and did something… something I didn't expect. She quickly placed her lips on mine. I couldn't tell if it was a mistake or if it really was a kiss. What I do know is that I was completely paralyzed.
“(Y/N),” I managed to say after a few seconds of silence.
“Did it bother you?” she asked, shyly moving away. “I wanted to show you some gratitude and… affection, just like in that movie we watched to the other night, remember? The boy and the girl kissed and… well, I wanted to know how it felt.”
“So, how does it feel?” I asked in a low tone, moving away from the temptation to take her right there.
“It feels good…” she sighed. “I want to do it again, would you like that?”
“Of course she would like that, silly girl!” Angie added, yelling shrilly and killing the moment.
“Angie!” I protested. “Fuori!”
I couldn't continue complaining, as the young woman brought my face back to hers, kissing me again, letting herself be carried away by my clumsy but sure movements, caressing my lips with hers, my hands traveling along her neck, warming up the atmosphere.
“Donna, I like to kiss you,” (Y/N) said as she pulled away, biting her lip, losing a little of that innocent look. “I feel good when I do it... could I do it more times?”
“Um...” I murmured confused, with my breathing agitated and the heat rising through my body. “Yes, yes of course, as many times as you want, tesoro...”
I couldn't tell if it was simple affection or if that girl, miraculously, felt something for me. I didn't want to give it too much thought, I had what I wanted.
Her kisses, her caresses were heaven, there was no trace of that disgusting vârcolac in her eyes, there was no monster inside her, only love, affection; I don't know how to call it.
That exploration of physical contact increased, becoming a habit in each of our encounters. Doubt killed me, guilt tormented me. Was I really taking advantage of her? I didn't know, I didn't want to know, and unfortunately, I stopped caring.
The nights changed, they stopped being cold and lonely. Her body hugged mine in my bed, innocently, not wanting to break that mysterious magic that surrounded our relationship, whatever it was.
I was afraid to ask, to tell her that I loved her, that I wanted her to stop calling herself "guard dog." I wanted her for myself, only for myself, to love like I had never done before, to take her, hug her, caress her... to have her by my side.
I didn't know if there was something, but I did feel it. She was mine and I... I was hers. Somehow I knew it, I knew there was that something between us, that thing I longed for so much and that I never dared to ask.
They were the best months of my life, but I knew that sooner or later there would be some kind of problem and that one, in particular, had a name and surname: Alcina Dimitrescu.
“Here you go, dear,” the lady of the castle whispered, placing a cup of tea in front of (Y/N), during an almost obligatory visit to the castle.
Of course, the rumor of the vârcolac-girl who lived with me spread quickly and I couldn't stop my sister from wanting to meet her.
“Oh, for me? Thank you,” (Y/N) sighed, doing something I will never forget.
She got up from the armchair, throwing herself into my sister's arms, hugging her quickly, just as she did with me. Anger began to invade me silently and even more so when I saw Alcina's mischievous smile and a look that made me tremble.
“Oh, how effusive,” the lady in white said, returning my girl's hug, with a tender smile. “You're lovely, aren't you?”
“Donna says I am,” (Y/N) answered, sitting down next to me again, playing erratically with my fingers.
“Mm, I see… so tell me, Donna, do you think you'd let her spend some time with us? We also need a guard dog…” Alcina murmured in a seductive voice, as if she was laughing at me. Nobody laughs at me.
“Here, in the castle?” my girl asked. “Whoa… would you take care of me too?”
“Oh, of course,” my sister answered, making me stand up abruptly, pulling the young woman's hand, forcing her to stand up again. “Donna, dear, what's wrong?”
“We're leaving,” I growled furiously, feeling how little by little I was losing control. But I wouldn't do it in front of my sister, not at all.
“Now?” (Y/N) asked, being dragged by my abrupt steps. “G-Goodbye, Alcina.”
I didn't want to hear an answer. I only heard a sinister laugh as I walked back to the mansion. Normally (Y/N) and I would take little walks around the grounds, holding hands, I loved that… But this time my steps were fast and (Y/N)'s breathing seemed to fail her.
Once in the house, I pushed the poor girl inside, slamming the door.
“Donna? What's wrong?” she asked, looking for Angie with her eyes.
“Yes, Donna, what's wrong with you? I was going to play poker with the girls and…” the doll complained, crossing her arms.
“Fuori! Get out of my sight, Angie!” I shouted furiously, eaten away by sudden jealousy, losing my mind, letting madness take over me.
“Donna, why are you shouting? Are the voices in your head hurting you again?” (Y/N) asked, putting a hand on my shoulder, one that I pushed away with a growl.
“No…” I sighed, laughing nervously. “No, (Y/N), you hurt me,” I said, pointing at her unpleasantly.
“Have I done something wrong? Have I not been good?” the girl asked with a sad look, like a child who is being scolded.
“No, (Y/N) you haven’t been good,” I said with a sinister smile, one that I regret, grabbing the scared (Y/N) by the collar of her dress. “What do you think you are?! Huh!? Who do you think you are to flirt with my sister?”
“What?” she asked, grabbing my wrists.
“Cazzo…” I growled, pushing her away and releasing her from my grip. “Listen to me, silly girl, you… you are mine, do you understand? Mine! And I won’t tolerate you being seduced by anyone, do you hear me? No one can touch what is mine!”
“Seduce?”
“Don't play dumb with me, bitch, why did you hug her?” I asked furiously, holding back my dominant instinct, my desire to slap her and claim her body roughly.
“The tall lady? I wanted, I wanted to show her some gratitude and… I-I'm not a bitch,” she said, defending herself clumsily, lowering her head.
“You seem like one, (Y/N),” I hissed, with a cold, dominant look, completely out of my mind. “You only have to show affection to me, to me! To no one else, is that clear? To no one else!”
“Donna, relax,” Angie whispered, hidden behind a piece of furniture. “You're losing your mind again…”
“Taci!”
“Have I been naughty?” (Y/N) asked again, a tear rolling down her cheek. “I didn't want to be naughty, I didn't know that…”
I sighed, calming down a little and clenching my fists on either side of my hips, moving closer to her, hoping, praying that she wouldn't back down, that my madness hadn't scared her away again.
“I know, you're a good girl, aren't you?” I whispered, caressing her cheek with my trembling hands, repressing my anger as much as I could, thinking of a solution, thinking of what I could do to make her mine.
“Yes, I'm good,” she said, sobbing and shaking at my touch, a horrible sight I didn't want to see. “I'll never hug anyone else, I promise.”
“Mm, you're mine, right?” I asked, darkening my voice, moving closer. “Is that what you want, (Y/N)?”
“Y-Yes, I want to be yours, only yours,” the girl repeated. “With you I’m happy, with you I feel… I feel things… and… I think, I think I love you, Donna.”
“Oh, bella, I love you too,” I sighed, happy to have heard those words, but with my sister's gaze still in my mind, with jealousy still attacking my conscience. “We can't let anyone separate us.”
I knew what I was doing, I knew I was playing with her mind, manipulating her will, but I couldn't do anything else, I needed her, I loved her, she had to be mine, and everyone should know it.
“We can’t, Donna,” she said, closing her eyes due to my caresses.
I could brand her with a hot iron, I could tattoo my name on her, I could force her to always be by my side, tie her with a leash like a good dog but… no. None of those ideas convinced me. I had to do something.
(Y/N) was the best thing that had ever happened to me, Mother Miranda gave her to me, only me.
My siblings were like vultures, they were selfish… they always wanted everything for themselves but… but maybe there was a way, a way to mark her forever, to let every last stupid villager know that she was and would always be mine.
“Vieni,” I whispered, grabbing her wrist, pulling her weak body towards the elevator.
“Are you going to punish me?” she asked scared as we went down to the basement.
No, she couldn't make me feel guilty, so I silenced her with a deep kiss.
“So you're not angry anymore?” (Y/N) asked with a new, special smile, letting my hand guide hers.
“No,” I said dryly, entering the bedroom and taking a breath. I had wanted to do that for so long…
To take her innocence, to claim her body, and also to make it clear to this whole damn village that (Y/N) was, and would be mine forever. The more I thought about it, the more I liked the idea.
“Get naked,” I ordered her, moving away, giving her some room.
I expected a refusal, a hesitation, but there was none of that. (Y/N) nodded immediately, beginning to untie her dress clumsily.
“I thought you didn’t like seeing me naked,” she commented, getting rid of the last remaining piece of clothing.
“Nonsense, your body is beautiful,” I said, repressing the erratic blinking of my eye, a sign that my madness hadn’t dissipated yet. Not that I wanted it to dissipate, either. “On the bed, lie down.”
“Is it some kind of game?” the girl asked innocently, almost tenderly, obeying without asking, without complaining.
“Mm, maybe,” I said with a satisfied smile, discreetly stimulating myself over the dress, undoing the buttons on the top with my free hand. “Be still, mm?”
“Now you're naked too,” (Y/N) joked when the clothes disappeared from my body and I approached slowly, gently stimulating my erection.
Not wanting to hear her innocence once again, I kissed her, kissed her deeply, letting myself fall on top of her naked body, caressing her skin with mine, my hands traveling through all those corners that I had wanted to visit for a long time.
She laughed with every kiss on her neck, every time my fingers gently squeezed her nipples, every time our breasts brushed, every time my skin became hot with hers. Her shy and innocent hands began to explore my paleness, curiously, discreetly.
I smiled with satisfaction, regretting not having tried it before. But a much darker purpose dominated our first time. Things were as they were, and (Y/N) would be mine forever.
“Spread your legs, (Y/N),” I ordered, helping her obey with my hands, contemplating the moisture that my actions caused on her body, the reaction that my kisses, my… affection caused.
“Okay…” she hummed, gasping in surprise when my fingers ran slowly through her folds. “What you're doing… It feels… good…”
Her expressions excited me even more. (Y/N) closed her eyes, writhing when I began to form circles on her clit, when the tip of my fingers slowly reached her entrance.
“More, more please, Donna,” she begged, scratching my back, moaning in pleasure at this new sensation, something that made me smile and decide that now wasn’t the time to play.
“More? Va bene… look at me, (Y/N),” I said, removing my hand and guiding her face to mine. “Look at me while I make you mine, tesoro.”
She obeyed expectantly as I positioned my trembling shaft in her wetness, playing with her folds, smearing myself with her essence before slowly inserting the tip, something that twisted her face and forced her to move away.
“Ah, Donna, it hurts…” (Y/N) complained with a pitiful look.
I sighed, nodding, pretending that I understood her pain, that I would be patient. I didn't know how long I could resist taking her hard.
“I know, tesoro, hold on a little, okay?” I whispered in her ear, covering her beautiful face with my kisses, distracting her from the discomfort of losing her innocence.
I moaned uncontrollably when I was completely inside her, when I felt her body stretching for me, only for me. She was so tight and so wet… I thought I would lose my mind even more.
“W-Wait… this… this feels even better…” the girl moaned, relieved because the pain had passed, placing her body in a more comfortable position. “I want more.”
“Mm,” I murmured, starting to move my hips, sliding along her walls comfortably, following the rhythm of her moans, of her body reacting to my erection inside her.
The moans became unpredictable and my hands scratched her skin. The subtlety disappeared when her legs wrapped around my waist, when her body pulled mine deeper, further inside.
“More, more!” the young woman shrieked, adapting too well to my frenetic pace, taking everything, trapping me in her wetness in an irresistible way. “More!”
“Così bagnata…” I growled raising her legs, grabbing them as my hips rammed into her, while my gaze was lost in her gestures, in her body trembling with pleasure. “Sei mia, (Y/N)”
“Donna, I, I feel…” she gasped, trapping my erection even more between her walls, stimulating it with terribly pleasurable movements while her body tensed, releasing itself with a scream that surely even Alcina would have heard. I wish she have.
“Cazzo…” I growled, not losing that stimulation while her body relaxed, being on the edge, about to make her completely mine forever. “Sto… sto… sto per venire!”
Not wanting to hold out any longer, I released myself inside her, letting my seed settle on her body, my heat flooding her walls while sweat soaked my back.
Wanting to make sure I got what I wanted, I didn't pull out. I stayed inside her, my cock bathed in our release, feeling the warmth, the comfort of knowing she would be mine forever.
“It was so funny,” (Y/N) said, kissing me boldly, sighing and letting herself fall completely onto the bed. “Can we do it again? Come on, please, again,” she begged, moving away from me and joining her hands.
“Um... w-well... wait a bit, will you?” I said, laughing nervously, trying to catch my breath. “I'm not a machine, I need a moment.”
“Damn,” she protested pouting, lying down exhausted.
I settled down next to her, kissing her softly, letting her head rest on my chest, our sweat mixing.
“(Y/N),” I said, moving her shoulders as she was falling asleep. “You’ve been a good girl, you know? You've taken it so well…”
“Mm… I’m a good girl…” she repeated sleepily. “I love you, Donna.”
I laughed, kissing her hair, but looking away. I wondered if she really knew what the consequences were, what my intentions were.
“Now we have to wait, (Y/N). If I haven't succeeded, I'll keep trying. I won't stop until I get you pregnant,” I whispered in a dark voice, but trying not to scare her.
“Oh, um, a baby?” she asked, opening her eyes wide. “That makes sense. That way everyone will know I'm yours, right?”
“You're a smart girl,” I laughed satisfied, kissing her softly. “Yes, amore mio, you will carry my child and everyone will see how beautiful you are with my baby growing inside you…”
“It's great,” the girl sighed, making me frown. I certainly didn't expect that reaction, not at all. “We can finally be a real family…”
Hi hun, I’m so glad you’re feeling better and that you’re pacing yourself with your writing! You’re an amazing author and I’m glad you’re taking care of yourself!💖
Your new stories are just as amazing as always! And I look forward to seeing more in your own time!
Speaking of which, I was going to make a request until I remembered that I may have already sent one long before your hiatus and I didn’t want to add to your request pile after just coming back😅
Die Art und Weise, wie Sie über Donna schreiben, ist absolut atemberaubend! Du gibst ihr eine solche Tiefe des Charakters und der Gefühle, dass es einfach ist, sich in deinen Text zu verlieben. Deine Geschichten lassen mich immer erröten und lächeln und ich bin so dankbar, dass jemand so unglaublich talentiertes wie du eine solche Leidenschaft für das Geschichtenerzählen hat! Ich hoffe, du hast einen tollen Start ins neue Jahr!
P.s. Not that I think it would matter, but last time I messaged I told you I was set to graduate university soon…well surprise! I’m a certified anthropologist now! I’m actually moving to Europe later this year (practicing my language skills for my move if you couldn’t tell from above haha) and I know it’s a bit odd but I remembered that conversation and how kind and encouraging you were to me and wanted to tell you.
Anywho,
I’m glad you’re back hun, and thank you for believing in me!
~🪼
Hi, anon! I'm glad to read you!!
Yeah, I needed that time of rest, but I'm here again! I love to write those stories, and now I can do it with all my soul!
Congratulations! I'm very happy for you! Everyone should reach their dreams! You're going to be an excelent anthropologist, I'm sure!
Moving to old Europe, huh? Amazing!
Germany, I guess xD. I hope you can be happy there (despite of the cold, hehe) and, if you can, maybe one day you want to go to Spain, and discover my beautiful country!
As always, your words moved me, seriously. To know that I can encourage people to be happy it's almost hard to believe :')
Oh, so you wanted to make a request... Don't be afraid, just do it, I love taking a look at my inbox and see that you're still there, wanting me to tell you more and more stories!
You all are amazing people, really.
Please, take care of yourself, and enjoy life! I'll always believe in you!
hello there! I would like to request something about donna being stressed or under too much pressure and taking it on reader in bed and accidentally hurting her? after that donna is very reluctant to be intimate again but reader reassures that they can try again. Could it be gp donna? Thanks! Have a good day
Yessss!!!! Thank you for your request!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!! :)))))
Stressed
Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem! Reader
Warnings: G!P Donna, smut, Minors DNI, angst, mental health issues, Donna being Donna
Word count: 7,928
Summary: She put too much pressure in herself, and it had consequences...
N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open!!! I love you all!!! :))
“Okay, I found it,” you said triumphantly, grabbing and waving the black cloth in your hands.
Donna sighed in relief as you approached with the veil she thought she had lost, a shy smile forming on her face.
“Where was it?” she asked curiously, with a somewhat impatient tone.
You shrugged and pointed to an old table with disinterest.
“There,” you said, playing with the cloth in your hands, trying to find the right position. “It seems that someone has been playing hide and seek again, hasn't it, Angie?” you mocked, glancing sideways at the doll, who received the accusation as a terrible offense.
“Me? You silly villager, you have no evidence!” the puppet protested, with a tone that betrayed her guilt.
“Angie… per favore,” the lady in black lamented, shaking her head. “I don't want to be late for the meeting.”
“Well, we found it just in time,” you said with a smile, quickly caressing her cheek.
The brunette returned the caress, kissing you softly on the lips before you raised your arms to place that horrible fabric on her head.
“Meeting, meeting, meeting, how boring,” Angie doll murmured, making you give each other another knowing look.
“Yeah… you say it,” you commented, playing along with the puppet and winking at her. “Hey, Donna, now that I think about it…”
“Mm?”
“What if you don't wear it?” you suggested, tilting your head slightly and placing a lock of black hair behind her ear.
She frowned instantly.
“(Y/N),” she murmured, letting you know that the idea, of course, didn't please her at all.
“What? I didn't say anything stupid, Donna, you don't need to,” you insisted. “You know you're beautiful.”
“S-Stop it, tesoro,” the woman said, shaking her head and giving you a nervous smile.
“You are the most beautiful woman in the world,” you said sincerely, approaching little by little and lovingly kissing the tip of her nose.
“Sciocchezze,” the doll maker insisted, shaking her head effusively.
“Nonsense? No, honey, it's what I think,” you answered amused, moving the black cloth away from her face.
“Exactly, it's what you think,” Donna said, with a satisfied tone. “Per favore, (Y/N), we're going to be late.”
“Donna…” you sighed, frustrated. “Come on, none of your siblings seem to care about their appearance, why do you…?”
“Will you shut up and put the veil on me already?” the brunette interrupted, snatching the cloth from your hands and looking for the right position, leaving you surprised by that abrupt attitude “Cavolo…”
“Oh, okay, as you wish,” you said defeated, shaking your head and looking for your coat.
“I'm sorry,” she apologized seconds later, while picking up the irreverent doll from the floor. “(Y/N), we've already talked about it, I… I… prefer to wear the veil.”
“I didn't mean to offend you, my love,” you whispered, rubbing her arm affectionately. “Hey, lately you've been a little more… irritable than usual, has something happened?” you asked as she opened the door, answering you with a vague gesture.
“No,” she said briefly, offering her arm for you to grab.
“Mm, okay,” you said distrustfully. “Damn, it's so cold.”
“Come closer to me, tesoro,” she said affectionately, pulling you a little.
“With pleasure,” you joked, hanging on to her arm and enjoying the first steps of that walk.
The meetings weren’t very common, but they were inevitable.
Mother Miranda's leadership over the Four Lords seemed to be maintained precisely thanks to those meetings, reminders that they are under her command, that she protects them, just as, every week, she reminds the villagers that she, and the Black Gods, protected them.
It didn't exactly make you happy to walk towards that dark cave, towards that underground cathedral where the four founding houses of the village met.
But, of course, you were going with her, with Donna. For the lady in black, leaving her old mansion was a milestone. Walking somewhere other than the Beneviento grounds was something that, for you, was worth the effort.
You were once the Duke's assistant, the fat merchant who sold supplies to the village, the Lords, and anyone with coins in their pockets. As his assistant, you had to run many errands, and of course, you were in charge of going to places the merchant didn't want to be.
The old mansion by the waterfall, the Beneviento Estate, was one of those places. You were born and raised in the village, you knew who lived there, but somehow, you couldn't get a picture of it in your head.
All that came to your mind was the color black, that talking doll, that stoic figure. To your surprise, those little encounters weren't as unpleasant as you thought.
The few words you exchanged with the strange woman became almost necessary in your life, addictive. That hoarse voice, that melodic tone, that intimidating presence… Of course she caught your attention.
Little by little the visits stopped being business-related, adorned with very poorly prepared excuses and with a desire to continue getting to know Donna Beneviento, a tormented woman, surrounded by rumors and legends.
Nonsense in your opinion. Yes, Donna was strange, she was sick and she was dangerous, but none of that appeared in your mind when you decided to get a little closer to her, just a little closer.
Love was not long in coming, as she, also surprised by your interest, let herself be carried away by the situation, by that sensation so new to her: being loved.
The Black Gods were particularly cruel to her. Where there should have been a small scar on her right eye, there was now a deformity that she herself considered horrible.
For you it was nothing like that, it was simply a peculiarity, and that natural reaction and the word “beautiful” coming out of your lips was the last thing you heard before melting into her in a passionate kiss.
Over time, you stopped going to the mansion, to live in it next to the lady in black and the Angie doll, a perfect place for you, next to the woman of your life.
Nothing, neither her appearance, nor the changes that the gift of the Gods made in her body prevented you from continuing to love her, from continuing to get excited about everything the woman in black did. You loved her, she loved you, there was not much more to add.
But, although everything was going great, lately the brunette's attitude had become tense. The afternoons in the workshop seemed eternal for you, she seemed nervous.
“(Y/N),” Donna whispered, taking you out of your memories. “Wait…”
You both stopped in the snow, just before crossing the wooden doors that marked her territory.
“What's wrong, honey?” you asked worriedly, noticing her body trembling. “Donna, what's wrong?” you insisted when you didn't get a response.
“I haven't been completely honest with you,” she confessed in a soft voice, leaving her doll on the ground.
“Oh,” you sighed suspiciously, trying to read her face, something impossible, of course. “Well, well… I thought I already knew all your secrets,” you murmured with a hint of mischief, wrapping your arms around her waist.
The lady in black gently grabbed your wrists, shaking her head.
“No, I… I…,” she stammered somewhat nervously, looking around, as if she were scared. “Yes, something's wrong.”
“Mm, okay…” you said, dragging out your words and changing mischief into understanding. “Do you want to tell me?”
“Yes, it's just that...” the lady whispered, sighing, as if she wanted to gain the necessary courage. “It's just that I feel... I feel that... I-I'm not like the others.”
“The others? You mean your siblings?” you asked curiously. “Of course you aren’t, Donna, you are much more...”
“Basta,” she interrupted, playing with your hands. “I-I want to open my feelings to you, tesoro.”
“Fine, forgive me,” you said empathetically, calming her hands in yours.
“I just don't... I don't think Mother Miranda trusts me as much as she do with them,” Donna explained, making you listen attentively. “You know, I... well, I'm not strong, o-or, especially good at anything and...”
“Oh, honey, what are you saying?” you asked in a tender tone, caressing her face under that horrible fabric. “Donna, you are very special.”
“Special...” she hissed mockingly. “It's not about being special. It's about trust, (Y/N). Mother Miranda hasn't trusted me. Sometimes I don't know why I'm even a Lord.”
“I suppose she named you Lord due to something, right?” you said, starting to understand her frustration.
“Yes, because of my family. If I wasn't of noble blood, she probably would have ruled me out,” the lady said, looking away.
“Don't talk nonsense,” you said, trying to get that idea out of her head. “Donna, you have the power to summon a person's worst nightmares. That's... terrifying... and powerful,” you joked.
“Hey, you sticky idiots! We're going to be late!” Angie interrupted, jumping impatiently in the snow.
“And there's Angie too,” you said amused, pointing at the doll with your head.
“S-So, why doesn't she give me a single important task?” the brunette asked, revealing with her nervous tone that it was the reason for her stress the last few days. “I feel useless…”
“Hey, listen to me, you're not useless, Donna. You're a wonderful woman and… well, I confess that before I met you, you scared me,” you said, careful not to hurt her fragile feelings.
“Grazie, (Y/N), but that's not enough,” Donna sighed, bending down again to pick up her doll.
“W-Well, then… why don't you offer yourself for the next task? That way you'll see that Miranda trusts you,” you advised, grabbing her hand to continue your way.
“Maybe,” she whispered again.
The walk through the village continued in silence. Well, at least you knew what was going on in Donna's mind, and you understood the reason for her stress and anxiety, although you really thought she had no reason to think that way.
Of course, your presence wasn’t allowed at the meeting, so you had to wait patiently for it to end, as always.
In the distance you could hear deep, dark voices, and their echo in the old stone walls.
After an impossible amount of time, the sound of furniture scraping across the ground told you that the meeting was over, and you sighed in relief, knowing that you would finally return home.
“My dear, how are you?” Alcina Dimitrescu, lady of the castle and Miranda's favorite Lord asked.
“Fine, my lady,” you answered elegantly, avoiding those always seductive eyes as they pursued you mercilessly.
“Doll face…” whispered Karl Heisenberg, a man who, if it weren't for his actions, could be mistaken for just another villager, a crazy one though.
“Karl,” you greeted politely as he looked at you over his glasses, awkwardly, as always.
Seeing Moreau, you began to grow impatient, as Donna didn’t come out.
“Hey, Sal,” you said, drawing the sea monster's attention. “Where's Donna?”
“She's talking to Mother,” he replied with devotion in his voice, to which you nodded and rubbed your hands before getting braver and peeking through the door.
“Perché?” you heard the lady in black ask, while, just as you had been told, she was talking to the most dangerous woman in the village; the emissary of the Gods, Mother Miranda.
“Mm, Donna, my dear Donna,” the priestess sighed, with a maternal tone that made your hair stand on end. “You are not fit for that task.”
“But, but, why?” the brunette insisted, while her doll made eye contact with you and ran to your position.
“Angie, what's going on?” you asked the puppet when it got close enough, without taking your eyes off the conversation.
“You're stupid,” the doll hissed, gesturing for you to pick her up. “Donna is stupid too… Look at her, following your advice.”
“Advice?” you asked, stopping looking at Angie when you heard Miranda speak again.
“Donna, cara mia, what you have to do is stay at home, safe, with your dolls and that villager you play with,” the priestess said, making the knot in your stomach grow.
“S-She's my girlfriend,” the lady defended herself, with a weak, submissive voice.
“Whatever,” Miranda sighed, visibly tired of the conversation. “My dear… you're not good for such a complex task. Everyone should know where their limits are.”
“If you trusted me, Mother Miranda, you would see that…” Donna insisted, clasping her hands together. “I’m capable!”
“Gods, Donna, stop shouting,” Miranda protested. “Ugh, what a pain… No, Donna. Now go away.”
“But, but Mother…”
“Taci,” the priestess ordered. “You serve me perfectly as you are. Honey, can't you see that you are not right in the head? Negotiating with the outside world is a task for Karl.”
“I’m not crazy,” Donna protested, making you want to slap that stupid raven-woman.
“I didn’t say so, dear,” Miranda whispered, approaching the lady and taking her hands.
“Ma…”
“No, the discussion is over. Now go home, with your dolls, where you need to be, mm?” insisted the priestess, caressing her face in a way that made your stomach turn. “My poor Donna… you have to relax.”
“Yes, Mother,” the lady nodded, defeated.
“Come on, go with your girl and have some fun, it's clear that you need it,” the priestess said, with a sinister smile under her mask. “Oh, hey, if you're so bored, why don't you get that village girl pregnant? One more follower never hurts…”
“You motherfu…”you cursed under your breath, clenching your fists in rage.
“She's talking about you,” Angie whispered in your ear, clearly mocking.
“Shut up,” you snapped at the doll.
“Didn't you hear me? Get out, dear,” Miranda told Donna, making a nasty gesture with her hand.
The lady in black growled, visibly enraged, and turned around, walking quickly towards the door where you were, passing you by in an unpleasant manner.
“Hey, Donna, wait,” you said hastily, following her towards the exit. “Donna”
“Donna, Donna!” Angie also called, shaking in your arms.
“Honey, my love, wait,” you said, managing to put a hand on her shoulder, one that the lady in black pushed away with another nasty growl. “Hey, darling, wait...”
“Lasciami!” Donna shrieked, enraged, walking quickly through the village.
“Silly Donna! What...!?” Angie protested, faced with her owner's attitude. “Hey, stupid!”
“Chiudi quella cazzo di bocca!” the woman yelled, making her voice bounce everywhere, causing the doll to thrash around in your arms and climb onto your back, hiding comically.
“Hey, that was rude!” the doll protested, hiding behind you again.
The woman in black growled, ignoring you, and continued walking back to the mansion.
You preferred to keep quiet, following Donna closely, but not stopping her. When she was furious, it was better to leave her alone. After all, poor Donna was sick, and that made her somewhat unstable.
The ventriloquist entered the mansion with a loud bang on the door, throwing the veil to the floor and not bothering to look at you.
“Cazzo, cazzo, cazzo!” she yelled furiously, kicking the innocent chairs in the dining room, unable to control herself. “Porca puttana!”
“Shit,” you whispered, lowering the doll to the ground, ready to intervene. “Donna…”
Angie ran away in terror from her owner's wrath while you slowly approached, avoiding ending up like one of those poor pieces of furniture.
“Hey, stop it!” you shrieked, grabbing the lady and preventing her from hitting another of the chairs. “Donna, please!”
“I'm useless!” the lady shouted, trying to get away from your hands on her shoulders, something she didn't manage. “Maledizione!”
“Hey, come on, stop it, darling, stop it,” you said in a soothing tone, cupping her face in your hands. “Calm down, my love.”
“She, she told me that…” she said nervously, blinking erratically, but slowing her breathing.
“Shh, I know, don't pay attention to her,” you whispered, hoping that your caresses on her face were enough to calm her down.
“What do you mean you know? Have you spied on me?” she asked, distrustful, moving away from you.
You rolled your eyes, grabbing her hand and slowly leading her to the last chair that was left standing.
“That doesn't matter,” you said, sitting her down and studying the trembling of her hands, the rage contained in her body. “That's it, there...” you sighed in relief, since Donna didn't seem to have any intention of moving.
“I'm useless!” Donna shouted again, making you close your eyes and bend over her lap, rubbing her legs, starting to despair. “Cazzo!” she shrieked, repeatedly hitting the table with her fists, making you grab them quickly.
“Donna, don’t!” you shouted in an authoritative voice. “No, stay still! Stay still!”
The lady glared at you, but stopped resisting, taking a deep breath, trying to calm down.
“That's it... calm down,” you said in a sweet voice, caressing her hands. “I'll go get your medicine, you're very nervous.”
When you passed by her, her hand grabbed your wrist tightly, preventing you from moving.
“No, no medicine...” Donna sighed, her gaze downcast, regretful for her behavior. “Please...”
“Okay,” you sighed, picking up a nearby chair and sitting in front of her, watching her hands. “Donna, darling...”
“Do you understand?” she asked after a few seconds of silence. “Mother Miranda considers me weak, a nuisance.”
“That's not true,” you said in a calm voice, praying that her anger wouldn't take over her again. “I was really spying and she didn't say so.”
“No, but... but she thinks…” she whispered, with a much more relaxed, shy tone.
“Bah, I don't think so,” you said, not knowing if you were being completely sincere. “She just cares about you.”
“(Y/N), I know you don't like her,” she said, knowing you too well. “I know you're just trying to make me feel better.”
“Well, I'm your girlfriend, right? It's my duty,” you joked, slowly taking her hand again.
“So what's mine, (Y/N)? Make dolls and wait for someone to be stupid enough to sneak into my territory so I can demonstrate my powers? Huh?” the brunette counterattacked, abruptly crossing her arms.
“Hey, if you gave me the choice between talking to people from the outside world or staying at home with my girlfriend doing what I like the most… well, I think you already know what I would choose,” you explained with an understanding smile, trying to make her see reason.
“You still don't understand, (Y/N),” Donna said, shaking her head, running a hand through her hair. “It's not about comfort, but about trust… Mother Miranda considers me weak and…”
“You're not weak, I know you're not,” you interrupted, drawing her gaze to you. “You have to relax, and stop putting so much pressure on yourself because if not…”
“If not what, (Y/N)? Do you think I'm crazy too? Oh, of course you do… Poor crazy Donna, she can't do anything for herself.”
“Donna, not again. You're sick, you're not crazy, and besides, that's not...” you said, starting to lose patience.
“Do you also think I'm useless?” she murmured in a sad tone, slowly getting up from the chair. “Don't answer, I don't want to know.”
“Donna,” you said, getting up too and surrounding her waist from behind, leaning against her. “You're not useless. You're a wonderful woman, the woman I love...”
“Mm,” she murmured with disinterest, turning around little by little and resting her forehead on yours.
“Is that a smile I? A very small one?” you joked affectionately, playing with her, pretending to tickle her. “Mm, Donna, if you only knew how much I love you...”
“(Y/N)...” the lady sighed, while you, seductively, hung on her neck.
“Besides, there are many things you do well,” you whispered in her ear, timidly biting her earlobe. “So many things…”
“You think so?” the lady whispered, lowering her hand to your leg, moving it to encircle her waist while her nails discreetly ran over your skin.
“Mm…” you nodded, letting yourself be carried away by her caresses under your dress. “Oh, yes, I do…”
The lady smiled, but not in the way she usually did. There was something in her gaze, something that revealed that her thoughts were still in the cathedral, that, although her hands were caressing you and her lips were very close to yours, she wasn’t thinking about them.
Leaving aside that mysterious air, you rushed to devour her lips in a deep, passionate kiss, one that you hoped would bring her thoughts back.
She reciprocated it effusively, digging her nails into your skin while biting your lips. Normally Donna was passionate, and many times she let herself go, but there was something very different in her movements, a rush and a furious, avid breathing.
“Mm, yes, you're very good at this, darling,” you purred in her ear, placing a hand on her chest to stop her kisses. “Come, I think we can continue talking in the bedroom…”
“No,” the brunette refused, letting your hand go when she started to drag it. “No… you're not going to tell me what… what I have to do.”
“Mm?” you asked mischievously, before gasping sharply, as the brunette moved first, grabbing your legs and lifting you into the air while her kisses prevented you from protesting.
“I'm not useless…” the lady whispered as she carried you in her arms to her desk, sitting you on top. “I'm not…”
“Of course you’re not, darling,” you said amused, moving your neck away so that she could devour it comfortably, biting, sucking, defiling your flesh in a hot, hurried way. “Mm, Donna… keep going here…” you whispered pointing at your chest, causing her to move away.
“Shut up,” she ordered you annoyed, with a cold look. “Are you going to tell me again what I have to do?”
“No, but,” you said frowning, wrapping your legs around her to bring her closer again “It's just advice, my love.”
“Cazzo… I don't want your advice!” Donna shrieked furiously, pulling away abruptly and getting you off the table. “Don't… tell me…”
“What you have to do,” you said, closing your eyes and moving your hands in a gesture of surrender, taking this rough, and unexpected treatment too well.
“Porca miseria… I'm fed up!” she shrieked again, turning you around and bending your body.
“Oh, as you wish, my love,” you said, blushing from the heat emanating from your body, from feeling so dominated.
The lady growled when you tried to kiss her and, with a sudden movement, lowered your head to the wood, making you hiss in pain.
“Hey, my love… be careful…” you protested, still laughing, with your head throbbing from the blow.
“I said shut up,” Donna hissed, giving you a hard spank. “I'm going to show you what I'm capable of, (Y/N)…”
“Mm,” you murmured curiously, trying not to move too much.
With a tug, your underwear went down to your ankles while her body positioned itself dominantly on top of yours, imprisoning it, leaving you with no way to escape, although you didn't want to, of course.
“Hey, Donna, wait a moment, shouldn't we play a little first?” you asked, noticing how her fingers buried themselves in your folds, experimentally, dirty, without any prior gesture of affection.
“Taci,” she answered, accelerating her movements on your clit, causing you to moan involuntarily, and the nervous movement of your legs.
“Gods… keep going…” you moaned, noticing how your wetness was increasingly noticeable, how you longed for her touch, how you longed for her inside you.
“I don't want to,” she protested in a childish way, giving you another spank and making the contact disappear, so you moaned desperately. “You're going to shut your mouth and let me do whatever I want with you, do you understand?”
“Donna, it really turns me on when you get dominant…” you moaned, writhing on top of the table, pleasantly surprised by that attitude.
“I'm always dominant, (Y/N), don't forget it,” she hissed, with another spank, releasing her erection with a gasp, rubbing against your entrance impatiently.
“Yes, but be careful because... Donna!” you screamed when you noticed how she entered you abruptly, without asking permission, without the foreplay that accustomed your body to accept her. “Donna, wait, give me some time to...!”
“Silenzio!” the lady yelled, leaning towards you, settling between your walls, stretching them in a hasty, painful way. “I'll do whatever I want.”
“Yes, I understand, but...” you said, hissing in pain when you felt a strong tug on your hair, bringing your face closer to hers. “D-Donna, you're big, let me adjust…”
“If you don't shut up, I will,” Donna whispered in your ear, releasing your hair and making your head hit the wood again.
Without warning, her hips began to move. They weren't calm, controlled thrusts, there were no kisses on your skin, but unconscious shivers due to the brunette's attitude.
Even in a hurry, your body quickly got used to her shaft, changing that slight discomfort into pleasure and heat, one that spread throughout your body.
“I... I'm not useless...” Donna growled, after a strong thrust, staying as far inside you as she could, hitting the table with her fist. “I'm not!”
“No, no my love... you're perfect,” you said panting, moaning uncontrollably from that excessive pleasure. “Gods, you're so hard...”
“I'm doing this well, right? Do you like how hard it is for you, tesoro?” the lady mocked, getting close to your ear before resuming her hurried movements, making the desk shake under your bodies.
“Yes, yes Donna…” you moaned as you bit your lip, adjusting yourself when the wood started to feel uncomfortable.
“Basta!” your girlfriend scolded you, spanking you hard and holding your buttocks, digging her nails into your skin. “That's it… Così stretta… Così bagnata…”
“Oh, Gods…” you gasped, suffocated by the pleasure, sitting up to feel more of Donna's movements, so that your walls caressed her erection much more intensely. “Donna!”
Your cries and moans seemed to go unnoticed by the lady in black, who growled as she leaned down again, moving her hips quickly, very close to you, making you almost feel the horrible sensation of her pulling out, but thrusting into you again moments later.
“How outrageous,” the lady mocked and, when you turned to look at her, you noticed she had a deranged look, completely different than usual, which made you start to worry.
“Honey, calm down, honey…” you said while her body moved faster and faster, fighting against her grip to try to kiss her lips, something you couldn't do, as her hand lowered your face against the wood again.
Her hands became shackles for your wrists, securing you in the same position without her thrusts stopping. She had you imprisoned, and it wasn't an unpleasant feeling at all.
“Look at me, Mother Miranda!” Donna shrieked with a nervous laugh. “Look what I'm capable of doing and you're not! That's it... You envy me! Is that it? I'm capable of doing this!”
Those words put you on alert. It was obvious that Donna wasn't well. That crisis she had before hadn't completely disappeared. However, that didn't stop you from continuing to enjoy it.
“Oh, don't name her… you're delirious,” you protest, as Donna bring the raven woman into such an intimate action.
“I can make her mine! I can cum inside and give her a child! You'll never be able to do that! What do you think of poor, crazy Donna now? Huh? Stronza!” she continued to rave, dangerously increasing the pace.
You couldn't process her words much, as an electric current shook all your nerves, forcing your muscles to tense, to break free from their restrictions and lean upwards, exclaiming a scream of pleasure at feeling your release.
“Cazzo! (Y/N)!” Donna shrieked, with a satisfied laugh, enjoying the wetness of your orgasm on her erection, the greater ease she now had to slide in. “Sto… sto per…”
“Gods, yes! Do it, fill me, Donna!” you said, kicking nervously at the jolts of pleasure.
“Sto per venire!” she moaned, stopping as her release coursed through your walls, wetting them, heating them even more.
The wetness you felt inside you excited you again, but Donna didn't seem to want to continue, she was exhausted. You could hear her labored breathing at the same time as her release began to slide down your legs.
“Gods, Donna,” you said, laughing nervously, freeing yourself from her grip and getting off the table. “It was…”
“Mm,” she moaned, putting her shaft away awkwardly and avoiding looking at your face. “Mm…”
“Shh… hey…” you said, worried by her lost gaze, by not seeing sanity in her only eye “Donna, what was that? You're not okay, are you?”
“I…” she said, shaking her head, wiping the sweat from her forehead and freezing when she looked at your face. “Oddio… (Y/N)…” she sighed worriedly, reaching her hand towards your forehead. “You're hurt.”
“What?” you asked confused, bringing your hand to the same place, noticing a blood stain on your fingers.
Suddenly your mind remembered that blow against the table and your head began to throb, although you tried not to give it importance.
“It's nothing, just… just be more careful next time,” you said with a smile, hiding the pain.
She shook her head, blinking rapidly, as if seeing your wound had brought her back to her senses.
“No, no, no…” she lamented, cupping your face in her hands. “What have I done!? I, I hurt you…”
“It's okay, Donna, it was an accident,” you insisted, seeing the concern in her eye again.
The lady in black shook her head, looking down at your wrists, marked with a small red line, right where she had grabbed you.
“Le tue mani…” she sighed, grabbing one of them slowly, studying the mark. “No…. No…”
“Hey, come on, it's okay,” you said, frowning as she ran her fingers through your wounds. “You were nervous, okay? I shouldn't have left you…”
“Yes, you're right, I… you shouldn't have left me… I hurt you… I hurt you!” she screamed, kicking the floor, losing her temper again.
“Shh, Donna, that's enough, that's it, it's okay, I had a great time and…”
“No!” the lady exclaimed, clenching her fists. “I h-hurt you… tesoro, I’m sorry, I…”
“Stop apologizing,” you insisted, trying to grab her hands, something she stopped by moving away little by little, as if she was afraid of you, or afraid of herself.
“I… I didn’t want to hurt you, I…” Donna sobbed, shaking her head, with her eye wide open and her chest rising and falling rapidly. “That wasn’t right… I didn’t… Gods, I did it inside, (Y/N), I could have gotten you pregnant,” she said nervously, coming closer and taking your hands, terribly scared.
“Come on, that’s not possible, honey,” you said slowly so she could process your words properly. “I’m taking measures, remember? Donna, honey, remember?”
“Y-yes,” she nodded shortly after, without calming down completely. “But, but I…”
“Forget it, okay? Nothing happened…” you whispered, resting your forehead on hers, wetting her skin with your blood. “Oh, wow, um… I should go wash up.”
Donna, scared, moved the stain from her forehead and studied your wound calmly, without saying anything, terribly sorry.
“Perdonami, per favore…” she murmured, with a deep pain in her soul. “(Y/N), I, I didn't want… I…”
“It's okay, my love… You'll always be the woman of my life… My beautiful Donna…” you whispered to comfort her while she hugged you tightly, shedding a sea of tears on your shoulder.
“I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!” she squealed, muffled by your clothes while you simply closed your eyes, caressing her hair. “I’m sorry…”
“Come on, honey… let’s take a bath, okay?” you suggested, taking her hand and walking, or rather, dragging her towards the elevator.
It certainly wasn't how you expected the day to go.
Donna didn't speak during the bath. She was confused, disoriented and regretful. Despite your insistence letting her know that you forgave her and that it wasn't really that horrible for you, far from it, she didn't react.
But that silence only lasted until bedtime, where, without saying a single word, the lady in black dropped her defenses, bursting into tears, falling asleep in your arms.
“Damn you, Mother Miranda,” you whispered, cradling the brunette in your arms.
Of course you knew she felt terribly guilty about what had happened, but your focus wasn't on the consequence, but on the cause. How absurd; thinking that Donna wasn't strong was simply nonsense and you knew it.
She was the youngest of the Lords, she was sick, yes, but that didn't make her useless. How you would have liked to teach that arrogant priestess a lesson…
Little by little the situation calmed down and Donna seemed to forget what had happened at that meeting. Of course, you made a special point of not reminding her, of giving her much more affection than usual. You had to let her know how special she was to you, how much it meant to your heart to see a smile on her beautiful face.
The lady calmed down to your relief, and began to ignore the hurtful words of her adoptive mother, understanding what her place was, what her destiny was: to protect the village, and to be with you.
You, triumphant and satisfied at having solved the problem that tormented her, decided to act normally again, which involved, among other things, a stealthy night attack.
“Donna…” you sang, putting your hand in the sheets, interrupting the brunette's calm reading. “Let's see, let's see… what do we have here?” you teased, moving up her legs, placing your hand on the bulge between them, making her frown.
“(Y/N), what are you doing?” she asked without looking at you, turning a page of her book.
“Playing…” you hissed in her ear, kissing her neck while your hand began to stimulate her slowly.
“No…” Donna said, moving away from your touch, blushing, but with a cold look. “No, (Y/N).”
“No?” you mocked, moving closer again, increasing the intensity of your grip on her more than receptive shaft. “Your body doesn't agree, Don, Don…”
“Don't call me that,” she protested, moving again. “Oh, come on, let it go, tesoro.”
“Mm,” you complained with a growl when she pushed your hand away. “But, Donna, you were getting…”
“I-I said no, don't insist,” the lady said, her voice weak, getting closer and closer to the edge of the bed.
“Hey, Beneviento, you haven't laid a hand on me for days, I demand some affection,” you said jokingly, comically chasing her under the sheets.
“I give you all the affection you want, (Y/N),” Donna murmured, pretending to continue reading. “Isn't that enough for you?”
“Come on, I don't mean that kind of affection... you know I love your kisses, your hugs... but there's something else I love, do you know what it is?”
“No,” she answered dryly, distracted again, until she realized what you were going to say. “Oh, cavolo, don't say it…”
“Stay still, I just want some…” you purred, moving closer one last time, which made the lady fall comically off the bed.
“Cazzo…” she growled annoyed as you peeked out, holding back your laughter.
“Donna, honey, are you okay?” you asked amused as she stood up, glaring at you. “Come here.”
“No,” she said childishly, crossing her arms. “What do you want?”
“Gods…” you sighed, shaking your head. “Sex, Donna, I want sex, I need sex, have I been clear enough?”
“Yes,” the doll maker said, nodding confused. “But, I'm sorry, (Y/N)… no… I don't feel like it.”
“Normally you're the one who...” you said perplexed
“Well, not now, (Y/N). Besides, I... I... I'm going to sleep in the office,” she said awkwardly, grabbing her pillow.
“Oh, really?”
“Yes, you're not able to keep your... hands off me,” the lady defended herself, looking away.
“Fine, whatever,” you said grumbling and turning around. “Good night, Donna, I hope you enjoy that uncomfortable couch...” you yawned, with a smile hidden on your face.
“Ugh...” she sighed, after a moment of silence, getting back into bed. “Well, I'll stay, but, but... stay away from my penis, is that clear?”
“Yes, yes...” you said, rolling your eyes and turning off the light. “Good night, Donna.”
It seemed like an isolated incident, a simple rejection for some reason you didn't know, but it wasn't.
The next few days continued in the same way. It didn't matter how you came on to her, or if you just attacked her or told her straight up, Donna always rejected you. It was like she didn't want to be intimate with you anymore, something that made you more and more nervous.
Your movements left subtlety aside, cornering poor Donna whenever you had the chance. Even though her body always seemed receptive and you noticed a clear internal struggle in her gaze, she always refused or ran away from you, whatever suited her best.
Just when you thought everything was fine, trouble started to plague you again. You thought about what could be going through her head to refuse to merge with you, when you knew it was, without a doubt, one of her favorite hobbies.
Then you realized.
That argument with Mother Miranda had dug a deep hole in her feelings. Your excessive concern had probably led her to lock herself away again, surely with her insecurities constantly stalking her.
You didn't know what to do. Well, you wanted to get your sex routine back, of course, but there was something much more important to you: Donna's well-being.
“Seriously, what is she doing down there?” you asked Angie, glancing at the old clock, which revealed that, once again, Donna was spending more time in the workshop than she should.
“Running away from you,” Angie said, without thinking twice, which made you snort.
“Seriously? Do you think I'm overwhelming her?” you asked unsurely, remembering those days of constant persecution.
“It's pretty obvious, silly village girl. Donna doesn't want to make babies with you, accept it. She's probably noticed how ugly you are,” the doll mocked, making you repress your instincts to strangle her.
“But, but... what's wrong?” you asked, seeking advice from the least suitable person, or doll. “Is she mad at me?”
“How do you expect me to know? Leave my Donna alone for once,” the puppet accused you, jumping on the couch and pointing at you with her finger.
“Well... I guess I'll have to talk to her,” you sighed in defeat, regretting having to bring up the subject again, having to fight against her insecurities once again.
The doors of the workshop were closed, and, before entering and thinking about what you were going to say, you took a breath, gathering all the information you had, trying to find out what her problem was before an imminent crisis.
“Hello, sweetie,” you said, approaching her and hanging on her shoulders, kissing her cheek slowly.
“Mm, ciao,” she replied, concentrating on cleaning the imperfections of a porcelain hand.
“I thought I'd make dinner today, what do you think? You've been here for more than six hours, you need a break,” you said calmly, without letting your imminent interrogation show.
“I'm fine, I'm not hungry,” Donna replied, without losing her concentration. “Ugh, lasciami…” she protested when your kisses on her cheek intensified.
“Okay…the dolls…” you joked, moving away and leaning on her work table. “Come on, cheer up, I'm going to make pasta,” you hummed, raising and lowering your eyebrows.
“Now I'm really not hungry,” she said in a cold tone, highlighting some last details on the porcelain.
You gasped and gave her a soft punch on the shoulder, drawing a brief smile from her, a very brief one.
“Hey!” you complained amused. “You have no confidence in me…”
“The pasta doesn't have to crunch, (Y/N). Until you learn that, I'm afraid I'll have to reject your proposal,” the lady joked with a mischievous smile, leaving the hand on the table and looking at you fondly.
“Yes, okay, whatever you say…” you sighed, letting her gently pull you with a tender and sincere laugh. “Hey, Donna… we need to talk.”
“Cosa? Talk? Why?” she asked, suddenly freaking out, her face changing completely. “What have I done?”
“Well, rather what haven't you done…”you murmured, letting yourself fall into a nearby chair.
“What did you say?” Donna asked, without having heard you clearly. “D-Don't murmur, (Y/N), you make me nervous…”
“Do you know what makes me nervous, Donna? You, not saying why you keep rejecting me,” you finally said, in a serious tone, but gently taking her hands.
“L-Leave it be, (Y/N), it's better this way,” she murmured, pulling her hand away and turning around so she wouldn't look at you.
“Gods, Donna, why?” you insisted. “Hey, if I've done something...”
“You haven't done anything, okay? You haven't done anything,” the lady interrupted, clearly nervous, shaking her head. “I can't believe you're asking me those questions after what happened.”
“What happened?” you asked in a calmer, less arrogant tone. “I have no idea what you're talking about and... Oh, Gods, it can't be...” you sighed, realizing something. “It's because of that argument with Mother Miranda, right?”
“What? No,” the brunette denied effusively. “W-well, at least completely...”
“Donna, honey, everything would be much easier if you expressed your feelings better and…” you said sadly, causing an oversized reaction in the lady, who stood up furiously from her chair.
“Explain my feelings!? What do you want me to explain to you? Huh?” she shrieked furiously, with her hands shaking on both sides of her hips. “There's nothing to explain, (Y/N). I don't, I can't do it…”
“Okay, okay, calm down, breathe, honey,” you said with a calm voice, approaching slowly, very slowly. “Calmati, amore mio…”
“Cazzo…” Donna hissed. “Stop ignoring it, okay? Stop pretending that nothing happened that afternoon, stop pretending that you love me after what happened.”
“What are you talking about?” you asked, crossing your arms, trying to remember to find the problem, without result.
“This, (Y/N),” she said, quickly approaching and pushing your bangs aside, revealing the mark of that blow. “I… hurt you.”
“Wait, you're not talking about Mother Miranda, are you? This has to do with what happened in the dining room and…” you said to yourself, blinking several times, finding a different approach to the problems, one that you hadn't given the slightest importance to. “Oh, no, Donna, you can't be serious… was all this because of what happened? Because you were rough with me?”
“Rough? No, (Y/N), I hurt you, I made you bleed, I wasn't careful with what I did, I hurt you… I… hurt you…” the doll maker repeated, with labored breathing.
“I already told you that nothing was wrong, honey, you were very upset,” you began to say, but she abruptly shook her head.
“And I took it out on you. You paid for my frustrations, I… lost control and…” Donna explained, moving away again, stopped by a hand on her waist.
“But, Donna…” you sighed with a tender smile, caressing her cheek. “My love… That's why you avoided making love to me, right? You were afraid of hurting me.”
She simply nodded embarrassed, closing her eye to enjoy your caresses.
“I-I don't want to lose control again… Mother Miranda is right. I'm n-not right in the head and…”
“Mother Miranda is stupid,” you affirmed arrogantly, tilting your head. “Your only problem is that you take everything she says seriously.”
“Of course I take it seriously, she created me, she…” Donna murmured, confused and annoyed by your contemptuous tone.
“Nonsense, you existed before that witch put her claws on you,” you said confidently, sighing and closing your eyes. “She doesn't know you as well as I do, she doesn't know what you're really like.”
“I'm sick, (Y/N), I'm not right in the head, you know that. Everything... everything she says affects me and... I lose control, it's not the first time it's happened to me but, but not like that, not with you, you're the only thing I don't want to hurt, amore mio...”
“Donna, your only problem is that you let your problems devour you,” you affirmed, getting closer to her trembling body. “You're not alone anymore, my love... you don't have to suffer in silence. I'm with you.”
“I-I know but sometimes it's...” the brunette said, about to shed a tear.
“Too much, I know,” you finished, gently grabbing her waist. “Look, it's true that you were rough with me, that you hurt me, but I've forgiven you, my love, I know you won't do it again. Donna, you're sweet, tender, loving... you're not like that, you don't have to be like that if you don't want to, do you understand? No one can control your feelings, no one has to tell you how you are or how you should act, much less that stupid priestess.”
“It's not about that, (Y/N), if I can't control myself...”
“Who tells you that you're not capable of doing it? Her?” you asked in a more serious tone, clinging to her body. “No, honey, that's not true. You're a wonderful woman and I know you would never hurt me, I know...”
“I already did,” Donna sighed, letting herself be hugged, but reluctant though. “I-I don't want to do it again so... you should... you should...”
“Ugh, Donna, you're so stubborn,” you protested amused, shaking the brunette. “I want to make love to you, I like making love to you. I don't want us to give up on this because some bitch has put it in your head that you're not capable of controlling yourself. It's not like that; you know it's not like that, Donna.”
“I-I... Io...” she stammered, unable to refute your arguments. “I like making love to you too, (Y/N), and... I want to do it, but...”
“If you say again that you don't want to hurt me, I'll smash one of your dolls right on your head, is that clear?” you threatened amused, softly kissing her lips. “My love... you have control of your life, of your actions, and you said it, you would never hurt me, right?”
Donna shook her head slowly, letting herself fall into your arms.
“Never, never, never…” she repeated in your ear, grabbing your face with both hands. “Ti amo…”
“Mm, me too,” you said, blushing surely due to that forced abstinence. “Well, since everything is clear… sit down,” you ordered, pointing at the chair. “I want you to make me yours, now.”
“Now? But, but…” the lady protested, letting herself be dragged, being sat down with a gentle push.
“Shush, not a word,” you said, moving your underwear to the side and sitting on her lap. “Now, my love…”
“W-Well, it's, it's okay…” she whispered, noticing how your hand attacked her again. “(Y/N)…”
“We're anxious, aren't we?” you joked, grabbing her incipient erection and freeing it from its prison, positioning it at your entrance.
“S-Sì…” she confessed, letting herself be carried away by your movements.
“Ah… Gods…” you moaned as you felt her inside you gently, riding her very slowly, in an improvised, but satisfying act. “That's it… Donna…”
“(Y/N)…” she moaned, cornered by your hands and the irresistible movements of your hips.
“Do you want me to tell you a secret, my love?” you asked between gasps, relaxing your movements and getting closer to her ear.
“Mm…”
“I really liked when you were rough with me… when you dominated me… keep that in mind for next time, okay, my love?”
