#i'm sorry but thank you for being awesome all of ya | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

thisgirlnamedblusy · 2 months ago

Note

pspspspspsps here kitty kitty kitty (Joking,... now you laugh) ....

Italian, Fem!Reader, that had traveled briefly to the village, to sell some books, movies, and whatnot -- just to grant the vilagers some sense of like.. the outside world? If that makes sense?

Reader, having already timed their escape, decides to go to that peculiar house up on the hill, across the bridge, before their departure, -- maybe the residents, who, Reader thought, was an old couple, or a very wealthy woman, .. maybe even one of those trust-fund families.. yes! Reader BET that the inhabitant of a place so grand would spend a pretty penny on some foreign knowledge.. maybe, Reader could even upsell. Yes! That would be enough to pay off Readers risky carriage fees.. (nervous laughter)

Reader, ignoring all darkness, all red flags and blatant signs of danger, because, well, Reader is very oblivious, and very optimistic, -- and, well, they barely know English, so, .. how would Reader know what the villagers say about the owner of said.. Oh-so large mansion? Pfft. As if.

'Oh.. its getting dark. Jeez, the trees sure do make this place gloomy!' 'Uhhhh.. why do i have a blaring sense of discomfort, nausea, unease, and a will of fright that makes my stomach churn with instinct to yeet myself the opposite direction? Oh, man, i knew i shouldnt have eaten that un-refrigerated fruit!'

Angie, if i remember that dollies name correctly, answers .. takes one look at Reader, in all of their 'Italian-beauty-standard-fitting', 'italian-book-carrying', 'Donna-language-speaking' glory (Donna language speaking because.. Italian. That was also a joke. Plz laugh), and immidiately, with that screechy voice calls Donna over

Donna fucking FAAAWNNNSSS over everything Reader has, buys their entire stock, then, out of pure gushy-ness, of how nostalgic, and amazing, and flavourful (meaning, how much stuff that Donna was desperately searching for, Reader has in stock) Readers 'for-sales' are, that she, spur-in-the-moment, ushurs Reader inside, makes them tea and whatnot,

well.. so much for Readers plan of escape. Poor bus-maid Reader hired, they thought, as they sat awkwardly beside the lady in black, veiled thickly, who was talking in Italian, since, well, Reader has little to no knowledge of english. Atleast shes also Italian. Thats nice. Wait.. why does Reader feel their cheeks heating up? Gosh, darn it, Reader has read (aha) far too many romance books.

Make it so that, since Reader, who, now, cant escape the Village, since their little plans of flight had been SPOILEDD!! (reference. Chuckles) they stay with Donna, then, after awhile, after teaching Donna everything they know about Italy, and get really comftorable with her, and sees her without her veil on accident, and cooks traditionally, does fucking .. house chores, because, well, they're an unpaying guest in a strangers home, they both start catchin' feelsies and all that sweet stuff. I'll leave the deciding of when and how to you! How generous of me!

(No smut, please. Aroace look'enne for sum intimate, not-so-intimate love. Aha. Joke again. Just a little giggle, please 😨)

Hope ya have an amazing day!! Yes, i know im too descriptive, im just awesome like that. Much apreesh, Anon. 💗

(p.s, thank u blusy 🫂🫂🫂 virtual hugs from italy. ciao bbg.. or.. bbb.. i dont .. i dunno)

Yesss!!!! Well, that was quite long request, but it was funny to write!!! Thank you for sending it and for your funny words!!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language(s) mistakes!!!!

Foreign Business

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem, Italian! Reader

Warnings: fluff, Donna being Donna

Word count: 8,585

Summary: Should you leave that gloomy village?

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

“17:30, do you hear me?” the young woman driving the small bus said.

You rolled your eyes and nodded, picking up your stuff.

“I don't think it will… How do you say… take long,” you murmured with an innocent smile, taking out your suitcase as best you could, letting it fall into the snow.

“Hey, stranger,” the girl said, with a gloomy look. “You have to pay me now.”

“Cosa? No, I'll pay you when I get back,” you said with a frown, crossing your arms.

“I'm leaving,” the girl whispered, starting the vehicle again.

“Hey, hey, hey, hey! No, no, no…” you said comically running towards the small bus. “Why are you in such a hurry?”

“Look stranger, it's clear that you have no idea of what’s going on in this place, right?” the driver asked, with a raised eyebrow. You shook your head and smiled innocently.

“Hey, I was invited,” you protested confused, giving up and taking out your wallet.

“Who has invited you?” she wanted to know.

“I have a relative in this country who is also a businessman,” you explained, putting on your coat because of the cold. “He says he is known as… The Duke.”

The girl looked at you curiously, but finally shook her head.

“No idea…” she murmured. “Besides, that doesn’t matter to me. My job is to bring you here and take you back to Bucharest. If for… Well, for whatever reason you don’t come back, I’ll be left without my money, do you understand?”

“Why wouldn’t I come back?” you asked nervously, looking down the hill, where the old village stood in a frozen mist. “I'm just going to sell my stuff and…”

“You bore me,” the driver sighed, with a mocking laugh that made you burn with rage. “Just pay me now, spaghetti.”

“Mm, politeness is not your best virtue, is it?” you murmured, wishing to say other things, other not-so-elegant words.

After all, that stupid girl was your only transportation in that place in the middle of nowhere… You should control your desire to insult her with all your might.

“I'd rather be rude than stupid,” the young woman laughed, extending her hand for you to give her the money you were holding, squeezing it tightly.

“Ugh, here, your money,” you grumbled, getting a satisfied look from the driver, who turned off the engine, reclining her seat and picking up a magazine.

“A pleasure doing business with you, spaghetti...” she sighed with a sinister laugh.

You, without her seeing you, made fun of her, angrily picking up your suitcase and walking towards the path where you had met with the Duke.

“Stupida...” you hissed, shaking your head, observing the landscape around you.

The trip had been exhausting. Dodging the mountains, those snowy landscapes had taken you too much time, but, that seemingly remote place had a special charm that made it worth it.

You were always a saleswoman, descendant of a family of merchants that expanded throughout old Europe decades ago. Sell, buy, repeat… That was your way of life. Trading in the villages of your country, Italy, was something simple for you, perhaps too simple.

The lack of interest of people in the modern world for something as simple as books, films, or any element of culture, had caused your business to falter, and you had no more than four clients in your area.

You always believed in tradition, in following the family legacy, even when circumstances were not in your favour. You could say that you were also a bit stubborn. Your family branched out to all possible places, places like France, Germany, Spain…

They all seemed to be haunted by the same curse, the same lack of interest in a good book, in knowledge itself.

But there was one place, a place where the tentacles of your family had arrived to stay for a long time, a place where the past lived, where present and future seemed not to exist at all.

A distant relative, the Duke, was for you the luckiest member of the family. Not even your parents knew how long that man had been in that village, in Romania. There were even rumors that he never came, that he never left, he had always existed.

Nonsense and legends in your opinion.

What you did know was that in that place, there were some business opportunities.

You had heard many things about the Duke, about the place where he worked. Apart from old superstitions and legends of witches and vampires, things you didn't believe in, you had heard that the people of the place lived completely oblivious to the outside world.

A unique opportunity. How much would a person pay to know what the world around them was like?

You didn't really care much about the reasons, those strange rumors. You didn't even wonder why that village seemed to be frozen in time. The only thing you thought about when you got on that plane was business.

“Qui...” you sighed when you reached that meeting point the Duke marked.

Without having anything else to do but wait, you sorted your merchandise while you studied the snowy forest that surrounded you, trying to decipher the old wooden signs that indicated illegible directions.

“Re-Reser-Reservoir...” you stammered, removing the snow from one of those signs, looking around. “Un bacino idrico?” you asked, scratching your head. “Mm, interessante...”

Yes, maybe if you finished soon you could do some sightseeing and, above all, you could see the enormous castle that seemed to guard the village.

The minutes passed, you couldn't tell if quickly or slowly. Nothing, there was no sign of the Duke. You might not have known what he looked like, but… In reality, you hadn't seen anyone pass by that path.

The cold began to mix with impatience, making you shiver.

“Ah!” you shrieked when, out of nowhere, a flock of black crows appeared, passing over you, close, too close.

Those black birds seemed like an evil omen, but you were too eager to know that place to realize it. Simply, with a proud cough, you stood up from your crouched position, shaking the snow off your dress.

“Uccelli…” you growled furiously, watching how that flock of crows moved away with sinister sounds.

Checking that your merchandise was still intact, you closed your suitcase, crossing your arms, slowly losing patience.

As you sighed for the umpteenth time, you realized that maybe you were in the wrong place. Asking wouldn't do any good, and besides, there was no one you could ask.

“Mm?” you muttered when you noticed something different among your stuff, a sealed envelope that you could swear wasn't there before.

Looking around confused, thinking no way those crows left that envelope, you slowly picked it up, opening it with a frown. As you began to read, you looked nervously at that forest again. It was a letter for you, in the middle of nowhere.

Dear (Y/N)

I'm afraid something unexpected has come up. It prevents me from attending to you, even though I was certainly looking forward for us to meet. I suppose that, since you are my family, to trade in the village on your own won't be a problem for you.

I'm sorry for the inconvenience.

PS: A word of advice, listen to what the villagers tell you, I wouldn't want the wolves to devour you, or anything worse. Please take care of yourself.

Duke

There was no doubt about it, that letter had arrived there by magic. The idea of messenger crows seemed less and less crazy. But the reality was overwhelming: you were alone in that unknown place.

You had two options: You could take your suitcase, walk back in your tracks and go to the bus, writing yet another failure in your diary, a very expensive one. On the other hand, you could ignore those chills, that feeling of being where you shouldn't be and do what you had come to do.

I wouldn't want the wolves to devour you, or anything worse…

That warning seemed like an irony, a little joke that was surely common to all outsiders like you. Well, it's not like it was a place where there could be wolves but… That wasn't the disturbing thing. What could be worse than being savagely devoured by those beasts?

Curiosity or cowardice, that was your dilemma.

With a thoughtful sigh, you looked at those two possible paths, imagining that, under each of them, there was a line of text that told you which page to go to, like those adventure books that offered several possibilities, some of them fatal ones.

You always fantasized too much thanks to those books. Maybe if you had been as rational as the protagonists of those great adventures, you would have considered your possibilities better.

Shrugging, not wanting to have wasted your money on a fruitless trip, you didn’t listen to the Duke's letter. After all, your job was to talk to people, you didn't need his help, or so you thought.

The castle was increasingly imposing as you approached. It was fascinating, a place from a novel, full of possibilities. Surely when you returned home and read one of those books, you would imagine that gloomy and mysterious landscape.

The glances traveled to your eyes passively. These villagers were definitely strange, they seemed to either fear you, or wish you away, you weren't sure.

Unfortunately, your eagerness to offer knowledge to these poor souls was unsuccessful.

Muttering things you didn't quite understand, in an English that was practically incomprehensible to you, which, on the other hand, was bad luck, since you didn't fully master the language either, each one of the doors of those old cabins closed in your face.

“Hey, I haven't even said my name!” you protested after the tenth disinterested grunt from one of the inhabitants of that place. “Cazzo…”

The door opened again and a young woman with an apologetic look appeared.

“Forgive my father. He doesn't trust outsiders,” the young woman said. Well, at least she spoke to you. “My name is Elena.”

“Sono (Y/N),” you said politely, shaking your hand with the young woman's, who frowned upon hearing you speak that way.

“It's clear that you're not a villager,” the girl joked, closing the door.

“No, I'm Italian,” you said, with a business smile that you had already rehearsed.

The young Elena nodded curiously, glancing at your suitcase.

“Are you a merchant?” she asked, pointing at your merchandise.

You nodded slowly.

“Yes, I've come on behalf of a relative... His name is, or he calls himself... Duke,” you explained with a trembling voice. Your nerves couldn't fail you. At least you had managed to talk to someone.

“The Duke?” the girl asked, with a surprised look. “Wow, I didn't know he had a family.”

“Yes, but he seems to be the only one who is successful,” you murmured jokingly, pronouncing the words in the best way possible. “Well... Elena, right? Are you interested in something?”

“No, I'm sorry. I'm afraid we have everything we need,” she said, shaking her head with a kind smile. “My father says that books are a waste of time.”

“Sciocchezze,” you sighed with a mischievous smile, showing her a vinyl record. “What about music? It's the sound of the soul.”

“No, no, I... I'm afraid we don't need anything like that,” Elena shook her head again.

“Oh, great,” you said, letting your smile fade at the thought that you couldn't even get enough money to recoup the investment of the trip.

“Don't be offended, just…” the young woman said, gesturing with her hands to emphasize her apology. “… We just work to live, that's, that's all we do, anything else would be entertainment.”

“Oh,” you said curiously, arching your eyebrows.

“But, um…” the girl said, looking around. “Maybe, maybe I know someone who might be interested.”

“Do you?” you asked.

Elena nodded, briefly pointing to a large house that stood out from the orchards.

“Luiza has always been a very cultured woman, and she is very kind. Maybe she would want to listen to you,” the young woman explained, in a kind tone. You blinked, looking at the indicated place, and smiled. “She lives up there, in the orchards.”

“Elena!” A loud voice was heard inside the cabin and the girl shuddered.

“I'm coming, father!” Elena shrieked, with another apologetic look. “Sorry, (Y/N), but…”

“Oh, of course, there is no… Pro-problem,” you said nervous about the impatience of that unpleasant man. “Luiza… Okay. Ciao!”

At least that girl helped you not to lose hope.

Elena wasn't lying, that Luiza seemed a bit different from the rest of the villagers, kinder, smarter, with an understandable English... It seems that you interested her enough to invite you into her house.

“Wait there, I'll make tea,” she said kindly, indicating that you sit at a table where a man seemed to be sharpening a knife with a distrustful look. After a few tense seconds, the man left his task, looking at you with distrust.

“So you're a merchant...” he whispered, tilting his head and crossing his arms.

“Yes,” you answered, with that well-rehearsed smile.

“And an outsider...” he whispered, with a sinister smile. “Luiza says you are related to the Duke...”

“That's right,” you said, without losing your merchant composure.

He laughed, shaking his head.

“Wow, I didn't know the fat man had a family,” the man said, with the same surprise in his voice as the young woman before. “Where are you from?”

“Italy,” you said proudly, ignoring those dark eyes, which hardened when they heard you answer.

“Italy, you say?” he asked, leaning a little towards you, narrowing his eyes. “You say you're related to the Duke?”

“Y-Yes,” you stammered, confused by that change in attitude.

“Mm, are you sure you're related to the merchant?” he asked suspiciously, making you nervous. “Hey, maybe by any chance you know...”

“Ahem,” Luiza interrupted, serving you the cup of tea. “Marcus.”

“What? I'm just asking, the girl says she's Italian,” the man, her husband, apparently, protested. “You and I know who…”

“Marcus,” Luiza said, with a firmer tone. The man shook his head, sighing in defeat. “Don't scare the poor girl.”

“Bah, if she's not scared yet, she must be brave, or stupid,” Marcus commented, laughing amused. You made an effort to smile at that little joke, smelling the delicious aroma of tea.

“Okay, (Y/N), unlike my husband, I’m interested in those foreign items… Do you have any opera records?”

“Oh, sure, sure,” you said, as if coming out of a confused thought, opening your suitcase and putting on a display of everything you had.

Well, you did manage to sell a few things. You would always be grateful to that woman, the only kind woman in that place, apart from the young girl, of course. But even with that partial success, you didn't have enough to feel like you had succeeded.

If that woman had bought you something, nobody was telling you that there couldn't be more Luizas in that place. You just had to find them.

You were ready to leave that house, when a small book caught your attention. It looked like a book full of old photographs of the village. You approached it with curiosity while Luiza kindly opened the door for you.

“Um, sorry, but... Can I take a look?” you asked, pointing at the book. The woman looked at her husband and he shrugged, making a vague gesture of farewell.

“Of course...” the woman sighed, faking a smile. You returned it gratefully, starting to turn the pages of that album. “This village is an old one.”

“I see,” you commented nodding, turning pages and pages full of snowy landscapes. “My family had told me about this place, but... Well, not much. What is this?” you asked, pointing to a kind of square guarded by four large statues.

“Those are the… The four founders of the village,” Luiza explained. “The Dimitrescu family, owner of the castle; the Moreau family, owner of the lake lands; the Heisenberg family who owned a metal factory on the outskirts of the village, and the… The Beneviento family, the doll makers.”

“Oh,” you sighed interested, not even hearing the names very well, you were more attentive to those old photographs. “Does anyone live in the castle? I'd like to visit it.”

“Um, no, I…” the woman stammered, making you frown. “I don't think you should go near it, (Y/N).”

“Isn't it open to the public? What a pity,” you said with a disappointed voice.

Luiza made a strange gesture, shaking her head.

“Young lady, take some advice from me,” the woman said, speaking in a very low tone, approaching you with a hand on your shoulder. “You must leave this place.”

“Why?” you asked, confused, looking away at another of the photographs, one with a beautiful mansion, guarded by a waterfall.

It quickly caught your attention, even making you ignore the kind woman's warning words.

“Because…” Luiza sighed, with a broken tone, as if she were afraid of something. “It's not the best place for an outsider.”

“Oh, yeah, well,” you said, amused, gesturing with your hand. “I have people skills. That's not a problem. Tell me, is this house in the village?”

“Oh, that house…” Luiza murmured, looking at the same photograph.

“It's impressive,” you said curious. “Does anyone live there?” you insisted, running your hand over the drawing of what looked like a symbol, one with a moon and a sun.

“It's, it's far from here,” the woman commented, closing the album and subtly pushing you towards the exit. “Listen to me, don't go near that place. It's very dangerous.”

You shook your head with wide eyes, pulling your suitcase.

“Everything here seems very dangerous,” you commented with a low voice and a frown. The woman put on a sad look, caressing your cheek in a strange way.

“Go away, (Y/N), go away before the shadows invade you,” Luiza whispered, turning her back on you and closing the door softly, leaving you petrified on the floor.

“Cosa diavolo non va?” you asked yourself with a strange grimace, slowly moving away from the house.

Ignoring these strange warnings, you walked aimlessly through the village, looking for someone who wasn't afraid of your presence, or who wouldn't bow their head, ignoring your greeting.

Tired from your erratic walk, you decided to lean against a stone sculpture, in the middle of another snowy square. Failure loomed in your thoughts, in your mind, wondering if perhaps with the Duke present, things would have been different.

You looked at your watch and sighed, it was still early to leave, and even more so when you had barely sold four things. You had to make an effort, either that, or try another nearby village.

The crows flew above you like a bad omen that you couldn't interpret. The sky was dark, gloomy.

Don't let the shadows invade you...

Luiza's words echoed in your ears, words you didn't know how to interpret, or rather, that you didn't want to interpret. You were in a different country, in a different culture, lost in that snowy, sinister village. Even though you believed that nothing could go wrong, a bad feeling began to haunt you.

Yes, maybe it was time to leave.

You stood up with a defeated gasp, shaking your head, depressed by your ridiculous failure. But, you had barely taken two steps when something caught your attention.

In front of you was a wooden door, a kind of fence that separated a private property. Above the frame, there was a symbol, one that you remembered having seen before: that moon and that sun.

Your mind was left thinking. Yes, surely that would be the way to the waterfall house. It had to be. Luiza warned you to not get too close but… Curiosity was calling you.

Okay, it wasn't a huge castle but… Still, that mansion couldn't belong to just any villager. The curious relationship of wealth, bigger houses and kindness that you found in the village made you think that maybe someone rich lived there, a person or family with enough money to think about leisure or wisdom.

“Mm,” you murmured curiously, approaching that place, looking at that symbol closely. The door was open. You almost thought you heard whispers that encouraged you to enter that dark path.

You swallowed when a cold breeze came out of that darkness. Your body trembled for no reason, but your mind was blinded by greed. You couldn't miss that opportunity to know what or who was on the other side, who lived in that place.

The sunlight illuminated the path you had to follow with increasingly less intense rays. Slowly, you followed that luminous advice, entering through the wooden door, walking towards the unknown.

It didn't seem like a very strange place, or so you thought. The trees seemed sad, that place seemed devoured by time. Strange objects hung from the almost rotten branches, which you passed by without flinching.

You simply kept your mind busy, like a danger blocking mechanism that seemed to alert your subconscious. Instead of worrying, when you saw that those things hanging from the trees were dolls, you simply whistled, making your way through the branches with a slow walk.

You passed an old wooden bridge, one that said: go away in all possible languages. You were never good at interpreting those words, those screams from your mind that demanded your attention.

The sunlight diminished as you walked, it was getting dark. The branches of the trees drew disturbing shadows that surrounded a pair of ruined cabins.

“Brr,” you shivered when you saw those wooden claws stalking you.

The smile never left your face, but your body began to notice the symptoms of that inner fear; a dizziness, a feeling of heaviness in your stomach... All of these were physical signs that seemed to want to stop you in your tracks.

You even thought that the tea or the fruit you ate at Luiza's had upset your stomach. No, you didn't see the danger in any way, or rather, you didn't want to see it.

Finally you reached a clearing, where a mound showed a sinister grave you didn't want to approach. Your stupidity and your desire for wealth were so strong that you thought it was perhaps a simple decoration.

“Un ascensore...” you murmured when you reached a red door, surely the entrance to that curious mansion.

Biting your lip, you rubbed your hands entering those metal bars. Of course, whoever lived in that place had to have a lot of money, and, above all, a great desire to spend it. You fantasized about what you were going to find: a rich family? A widow, perhaps? A wealthy man? Maybe one of the founders of the village’s descendants? It didn't matter who it was, but you could smell money from miles away.

When you got out of the elevator, the sight in front of you forced you to stop. There was that house, that huge house with a beautiful waterfall next to it.

“If this doesn't work, I'm leaving the business,” you said, rehearsing in your head the phrases to say to the inhabitant of that place, greetings, smiles, all your charms.

The sound of the falling water relaxed you, although you didn't know why you were even nervous. The word danger whispered in your mind like a premonition or intuition, but you let the waterfall completely eclipse it. The beauty of that place couldn't entail any danger, you were convinced.

You cleared your throat as you approached the door, slowly climbing the steps. At the moment, there was nothing that matched Luiza's warnings, nothing, until, before you could knock on the door, it opened with an ominous creak.

“Um, hello?” you asked, seeing how, in front of you, there was nothing but a beautiful wooden room, with a rocking chair that moved by itself. “Ciao...” you repeated in a lower voice.

There didn't seem to be anyone in that place and you sighed, relaxing your shoulders and looking around.

“Oh!” you squealed in fear when you looked down, where, what looked like a ventriloquist's doll was standing looking at you. “Oh... Cazzo... What...” you said upset. “Good... Good trick...”

Smiling, thinking that, like the gravestones in the clearing, this was just a joke, you crouched down curiously, looking at that puppet.

“Hello?” you repeated, standing up again and ignoring the doll, which, perhaps because of the accumulated fatigue, you thought was following you with its gaze.

“Down here, stupid!” a high-pitched screech scared you again, making you fall backwards, tripping and crashing your body against the hard stone of the porch.

But neither the pain of the fall nor the fright were the worst. Yes, you were not dreaming, if it was a joke, it was the best one you had ever seen.

That doll, that damn doll moved, moved its articulated mouth, laughing out loud.

“Who are you?” the puppet asked, approaching your collapsed body. You backed away scared, crawling until you reached those small steps.

“Ahhh! Una bambola parlante!” you shrieked in fear, standing up as quickly as possible with your hands in front of your body.

“Who are you calling a talking doll, you silly, silly?” the puppet asked.

No, there was no doubt. There were no strings, no ventriloquist, it was alive.

“Ah, io, io… What?” you stammered nervously, shaking your head, blinking hard to make what was undoubtedly a hallucination go away. It didn’t.

“Wait, wait, wait, can you repeat that?” the doll said, approaching with a comical step. “What did you just say?”

“Cosa?” you asked, grabbing your suitcase, ready to run away. “Sorry, I… No, no… What?”

“You called me a talking doll,” it said, crossing its arms.

You nodded confused.

“I'm, I'm, I'm sorry... No, no...” you stammered, still shocked and scared by the impossibility of that old toy. It couldn't move, it just couldn't.

“Who are you?” it asked again. “Why do you know Italian?”

“I-I-I'm Italian,” you stammered, shaking your head.

The doll tilted its head curiously, looking you up and down.

“You're a long way from home, you silly Italian,” the doll commented in a mocking tone.

You blinked again, scratching the back of your neck, searching all over the doll for the mechanism that was supposed to make it behave like that. You didn't find it.

“I-I'm a merchant,” you said with a broken voice. The doll nodded, walking towards you quickly, climbing up your dress. It was too close, you couldn't move.

“Merchant?” it asked again, looking at you as if it was reading your soul. “What do you sell?”

“I sell… I sell… Books and… Vinyl and… Movies…” you explained when the doll finally got off your body, without taking those cold eyes off you.

“Books and movies?” the puppet asked.

You, nervous, still scared, nodded erratically.

“Do you have Italian stuff?”

“S-Sure I have,” you whispered in a small voice.

“Mm,” the doll murmured turning around, but looking at you several times before disappearing into the darkness of the mansion. “Donna, Donna! You have to see this, come, come!”

“Donna?” you asked yourself, gathering enough courage to walk back to the door, where, after a few seconds, the sound of heels approached.

In front of you was a woman, a woman dressed completely in black, with a veil covering her face. She had a stoic pose, she emanated danger, and even more so when you saw that she was holding the doll in her arms.

Even if she was the most experienced ventriloquist in the world, she could never have done that, it was simply impossible.

“She's pretty, huh, Donna?” the doll said, nudging the lady, who sighed tiredly. “An Italian beauty knocking on your door, not even in your dreams could you imagine something like that.”

“Angie…” A hoarse, dark voice came out of that black veil while the woman lowered the doll to the floor. It laughed amusedly, staring at you again.

“Um, well…” you murmured confused, with your gaze fixed on that black veil, on those invisible eyes that you knew were watching you. “H-Hello…”

There was no answer. The lady didn't even seem to be bothered by your words.

“Um… I'm… I'm (Y/N),” you said, putting fear aside and politely extending your hand towards her, who looked at it briefly, without returning your greeting. “No? Okay… Well…”

“I'm Angie!” the doll shrieked, grabbing your hand instead of its owner and shaking it roughly. “Nice to scare you!”

“H-Hello… Suppongo…” you whispered, still confused but, mysteriously, more relaxed.

“Forgive her, she doesn’t like to talk,” the doll explained, pointing at its owner in a mocking way. “Shall I tell you a secret? She's Italian too.”

“Oh, really?” you asked, looking at the lady, who nodded briefly. “Che strana coincidenza…”

“Perché strana?” that hoarse voice asked again, the voice of that mysterious lady.

“Oh, well…” you said embarrassed, of course, that doll hadn't lied to you. “No, it's nothing…”

“Che vuoi?” the lady in black asked again, her tone lighter, but reflected impatience.

“I'm, I'm a merchant,” you said again, trying to smile, making a superhuman effort to make that strange situation stop being so strange.

After all, she was the inhabitant of that place, and she was also Italian. The business seemed to call you…

“She sells a lot of things, Donna!” the doll shrieked, pointing at you. “Things you like!”

“Mm,” the woman in black murmured, looking over your shoulder at the merchandise. “Me li può mostrare?”

“Oh, sure, sure…” you said nervously, heading towards your suitcase and opening it on the floor, closely followed by that strange doll, which didn't seem to want to leave you alone.

“Look, Donna, your favorite record!” the doll squealed, rummaging through the merchandise without any kind of hesitation, under your watchful gaze, and hers.

The lady took that vinyl, observing it carefully. You almost thought you heard a slight laugh coming out of that veil.

“È, it's a special edition,” you murmured when you saw how interested she seemed to be. “You, you know… Come prima… Più di prima…” you sang in a timid and horrible way.

The veiled lady looked up with a sigh.

“Are you also a singer?” she asked with a weak, whispering voice.

You laughed nervously shaking your head, with your cheeks slightly blushed.

“No… The truth is, I’m not… Although, although they've always told me that I have a beautiful voice,” you said timidly, looking sideways as Angie rummaged through the books.

“Mm,” the lady murmured with disinterest, looking at the vinyl again.

“Donna, Donna! Nonna's favorite book!” the doll squealed, handing her one of your books in perfect condition. “Look, look, this one isn't broken!”

“I have that one on sale… If, if you're interested… Donna, right?” you said with your voice cracked by nerves, playing with your sweaty hands.

“Donna? Lady Beneviento for you, silly!” the doll snapped at you, in a haughty tone.

“Beneviento?” you asked involuntarily, knowing that you had heard that name somewhere.

Of course you heard it. Like a whisper of help, your mind recalled Luiza's words, those that explained to you the families who had founded the village. Of course, that Donna Beneviento was an important person in that place. Despite everything strange, your greed took precedence, she seemed truly interested in what you were selling.

The mysterious woman nodded slowly, leafing through that book with curiosity.

“I’m sorry, Lady Beneviento,” you said elegantly, lowering your head. You knew she was not an ordinary villager and therefore, you could not treat her as such.

“Vieni,” she whispered, gesturing for you to enter the house.

You nodded nervously, closing your suitcase and pulling it into the mansion, with an extra weight. That living doll had climbed on top of it, swinging its legs in a playful way.

“Hey, do you mind?” you said nervously. The doll, obviously, shook her head.

You groaned, still in disbelief, and when you looked again you saw something strange.

There was a portrait, a portrait hanging on the wall of the stairs. On it, there was a woman, a really beautiful, gorgeous woman with a pale face, serious eyes and black hair. Next to her, there was that puppet, the Angie doll. Would she be the lady?

Lady Beneviento cleared her throat, getting your attention, letting you know through her non-verbal language, that she didn't want you to look at that portrait. You decided to be good and obey.

“Sit down, I'll make some tea and we'll talk business,” the woman whispered, pointing to a cozy corner of that house.

“Sure... Yes, um... Thank you,” you said with a kind smile.

The woman in black looked at you for an almost awkward moment and then turned around, walking slowly towards a hallway. You followed her with your eyes until she disappeared.

It was a strange situation indeed. Perhaps you should have listened better to your survival instincts.

After what seemed like an eternity, the lady returned, serving you a cup of tea with an elegant gesture and sitting in front of you.

“Grazie…” you whispered with a grateful smile, blowing on the steaming liquid. “Truth be told, I didn't expect to find someone who spoke my language… I've never been good with English.”

“You seem to speak it quite well,” she commented, with a regal pose, barely moving, not letting anyone see for a moment what that black veil was hiding.

“I have no choice, I guess,” you sighed, shaking your head.

“Do you trade all over Europe?” she asked curiously as you opened your suitcase again, your hands shaking.

You weren’t there to chat. You had gone to do business. You couldn’t forget that.

“No, I… Well, I used to trade only in Italy,” you explained with a sad smile.

“Where in Italy are you from?” she asked again as Angie, with the suitcase open again, rubbed her wooden hands, rummaging through your stuff with an evil laugh.

You looked back at the lady, a bit confused.

“Da che parte d’Italia vieni?” the lady repeated with a slightly darker voice. “Nord, sud…?”

“Oh, yes, Well… I was born in the city of… This may seem like a joke to you but… I’m from the city of Benevento,” you said with a shy smile.

You didn’t want her to think you were laughing at her. It was just a stupid coincidence.

“Mm, why would I think it's a joke?” she asked, with a tired sigh.

“Well, because of your… Your last name… It's quite similar, isn't it?” you said with a fake smile. “Are you from around there?”

“No,” the lady answered dryly, without bothering to shake her head. “I was born here.”

“Oh, okay…” you murmured, glancing at the doll, who was shuffling through your books. “Hey, um… be careful…” you said to the doll, who made a mocking gesture, imitating your voice in an unpleasant way. “Hey, la, la bambola…”

“Angie”

“Yes, Angie…” you repeated with a frown. “Why is she alive?”

“That's none of your business,” she said, with a cold voice, one that ran through your nerves, putting them on alert again.

“O-Okay, sorry,” you murmured, looking down.

“Do you have Italian movies?” she asked after a tense moment, one that you took advantage of to hide your embarrassment in the teacup. “Film.”

“Oh, yes, yes of course…” you said nervously, reaching for the suitcase, rummaging through your messy things due to the Angie doll, who protested with a grunt at your hand. “I have a lot of these.”

“Mm?” the lady murmured, looking at the cover confused, opening it and taking out the disc. “What is this?”

“A, a movie,” you said, clearing your throat. “A DVD.”

“DVD…” she whispered, looking at her reflection in that shiny disc, visibly confused. You couldn't believe she didn't know it. That village was definitely stopped in time. “I'm sorry, I'm afraid I don't understand you.”

“Um, well…” you said, scratching the back of your neck, wondering how you were going to explain that to this mysterious woman. She didn't seem to be joking, at all.

“Hey, it's like a mirror!” Angie squealed, climbing onto her owner's lap and comically looking at herself in the disc, turning it curiously. “I want one, Donna, I want one!”

“Ugh, va bene…” the lady whispered, putting the DVD back in its place and handing it to the doll, who jumped victoriously. “It's still not what I'm looking for.”

“What… What are you looking for?” you asked, flashing your fake saleswoman smile again.

“Don't you have any 28mm rolls?” the woman wanted to know.

You nodded confused.

“Yes… But, but they are, they are special, I mean, I mean… They are… They are molto costose, you know… They are, they are almost museum relics,” you said, taking a metal box out of the suitcase and opening it, displaying its contents.

“Fine, I want them,” she murmured, nodding and snatching the box from your hands. “Money is not a problem.”

Well, that phrase fostered a more sincere smile on your face.

“Va bene… It is…” you said nervously, taking out a notebook in which you wrote down your sales.

“I'm not finished,” she interrupted you, leaving the box on the floor. “I also want those books.”

“Those? Which ones?” you asked confused by her vague description.

“All of them,” the lady said abruptly, leaving you glued to the seat. “I've been asking the Duke for that classic novel collection for a long time.”

“The Duke? Oh, well, I'm related to him,” you said smiling, taking the books out of the suitcase and leaving them on the table.

“You?!” Angie asked in a shrill voice, getting too close to you again. “Come on! You don't look like that fat greasy guy!”

“Fat greasy guy?” you asked amused. “Well, I don't really know him, but it seems that in this village you do it quite well.”

“Oh, yes, he's a scammer!” Angie shrieked laughing amused. “Isn't he, Donna?”

“Mm…” the lady nodded, distracted by the books.

That scared you.

“Oh, I… I'm not like him. I'm always fair with prices and… Cazzo, don't think I'm trying to rip you off or anything like that… Cazzo.”

“Do you mind stopping talking like that? I don't like rude girls,” Donna snapped at you, with a dangerous, annoyed tone.

“I'm, I'm sorry, it's just that... Well, I'm not used to being understood,” you explained with a different blush, one that was accentuated when a shy laugh came out of her veil.

“It was just a joke,” she said amused, more relaxed, surely fascinated by that collection of books she was looking for so much. “Do you want some more tea?”

“Oh, yes, per favore,” you said, extending your cup towards the teapot, with a calm smile.

“I still don't know what a girl like you is doing in a place like this...” she whispered after a moment of calm silence, one that served to, little by little, get you used to that sinister atmosphere, and that doll.

“It's a long story...” you sighed, leaning back on the old sofa.

“I have time,” she said, with the same tone as you. “I'm sure you'll appreciate having a chat in your native language, right?”

“S-Sure…”

As if you had suddenly forgotten what you were doing there, or how much time you had left to leave, you began to chat calmly with that strange woman.

At first she seemed gloomy, reluctant to hold any kind of conversation but… As you explained everything that led you to the village, your concerns, your goals… Well, her attitude relaxed quite a bit.

The short, dry sentences turned into a soft voice, into shy laughs from time to time. It seemed that she had gained some confidence with you, or so that living doll hinted. After your hectic trip through Romania, a chat in your language effectively lifted your spirits, it was almost like feeling at home.

On the other hand, that erratic behavior of the lady in black never ceased to surprise you. Like the rest of the villagers, she seemed not to understand or comprehend very well the outside world, the time in which you lived.

To your surprise, she had never even set foot on Italy. Yes, her family came from there, but, incredibly, Donna had never been there. But that was not the only thing that was curious, so were the words that claimed she had never left the village.

It might seem that this woman, with money, with power, from an important family, had little or no interest in traveling, in leaving this sinister time capsule.

But that was not the case. Her words were full of sadness, her sighs, that nostalgia with which she listened attentively to your words... It seemed as if deep down she wanted to leave, as if, for some reason, her stay in the village was some kind of condemnation for her.

The mansion grew darker as time went by as you talked, sharing impressions, tastes, hobbies… It was almost as if you had just met a friend, a friend with an interesting voice, with a beautiful body, with a subtle but intoxicating lavender perfume…

Your cheeks betrayed those erratic thoughts about the lady in black and you shook your head several times.

You, a cultured girl, a fan of romance novels, always tended to idealize that kind of situations. You didn't want to believe in love at first sight, but you certainly didn't know what it felt like, if it was even possible.

No, no, no, no… You couldn't think about that, despite how attractive Lady Beneviento was to you. Everything had an end, and sooner than you would have liked, yours came.

Sighing, finishing your last cup of tea, you looked at the clock and almost choked.

“Oh, cazzo!” you said hurriedly, getting up from the sofa. “5 o'clock, if I don't hurry…”

“What's wrong?” the lady in black asked, getting up too, playing nervously with her hands.

“I'd love to stay and chat but… If I don't make it to that stupida’s bus, she will leave without me and…” you explained, gathering that was left in your suitcase. Donna had bought almost everything without thinking about it.

“Are you going to leave?” she asked in a whisper, with a voice that, at least to you, seemed sad.

You looked at her and nodded with a polite smile, extending your hand towards her, a hand that, this time, she shook briefly.

Damn, her hands were very soft…

“It's been nice meeting you, Donna,” you said kindly, turning around to walk towards the hall.

“Are you going to let her just leave? Silly Donna…” you heard the doll whisper in an indiscreet manner.

“W-Wait, wait a moment,” the nervous lady said, running to meet you, making her veil move, inducing your mischievous eyes to look at what was underneath. “D-Do you really have to go?”

“Yes,” you said with a confused look, totally innocent.

“W-Wait, I… I…” she murmured, approaching slowly. “It's dangerous to go out at night.”

“Hey, can someone explain to me what it is that scares you so much about this place? And why are there living dolls?” you asked with an impatient tone, remembering each of the villagers' warnings.

“I'll explain everything to you, but, but only if you stay with me a little longer, just a little longer,” the lady said, in a tone that sounded curiously desperate. “Per favore…”

“Please, please!” the doll repeated in a shrill tone.

“Um…” you stammered, unable to find an answer, a desire to stay that you knew existed. But that village had already given you so much trouble, you wanted to leave, but at the same time, you didn't.

Damn senseless crush… How can you even know if you really liked that woman?

“Okay,” you said, letting your words speak for themselves, sighing as you looked at your wristwatch, knowing that, even if you ran, you wouldn't make it to the bus on time. “Hai un telefono?”

The lady nodded, pointing to a small table.

You walked slowly past her, checking how, in a disturbing way, the doll and owner followed you with their gaze.

“Irina?” you asked when someone finally answered, after a few tense moments.

“Oh spaghetti, it's you!” the driver of the bus screamed. She seemed agitated, as if she was running away from something, or so you sensed, there was too much interference. “You have to… Help me! Wolves… Monsters…! Call the… Lice!”

“Cosa? I don't understand you, are you okay?” you asked with a frown, that stupid girl seemed to be in danger.

“No…! No…! Mother Miranda!”

After those screams, the call was interrupted, leaving you disoriented. Seeing you like that, Donna approached, taking the phone from your hand and hanging it slowly, as if somehow those screams hadn't surprised her.

“It seems that there are some connection problems,” Angie mocked, laughing, but stopping when the lady suddenly looked at her, as if she had said something she shouldn't. “Oops…”

“I think she wanted me to call the police… Who is Mother Miranda?” you asked confused, with your heart racing.

“She’s the leader of this village,” Donna murmured, with a somber voice. “But don't worry, she won't hurt you, I won't allow it.”

“Hurt? Um, hey, Donna, I think, I think Irina was in trouble,” you said nervously, focused on finding out what had happened.

“You'll be in trouble if you go out at night, silly! You have to stay here!” Angie yelled at you, pointing comically at the floor.

“Oh, no, no, I don't want to disturb you,” you said with a trembling voice.

Your intuition wasn't wrong at all, but... In that house, you didn't seem to be in danger.

“You're not disturbing me, I like your company,” Donna said, with her hands in front of her body, with an elegant posture, unfazed by what seemed to be the death of the bus girl. “Do you want...? Do you want to cook something for dinner?”

“Oh, um, yes, dinner... Um...” you said confused, nodding without really knowing why. “Va...Va bene...”

As if you had forgotten what had happened, as if that call hadn't taken place, you went down to that dark basement with the lady in black and started cooking. It was a fun, entertaining time.

You both shared your own recipes, your special ways of doing things. Your mind had forgotten about going home, it had forgotten where you wanted to go, why you wanted to leave. The only thing you knew was that you wanted to stay with that dark Italian Lady. You wanted to talk to her, laugh with her.

Yes, you started to believe in love at first sight, you had no doubt that it existed, you were experiencing it.

Day and night began to dance before your eyes, the sun and the moon. How long had you been there? You didn't know. Had it been days, weeks, months? You weren't sure.

Cooking, reading, watching those movies… Any excuse was good enough to forget about your problems, to forget you had a place to go back to.

Maybe darkness had invaded you but… You had become addicted to her, to Donna Beneviento, to that strange woman and her doll, to her voice, her words, her laughter… To the lavender of her perfume…

“Sale,” Donna said, extending her hand so you could give her the jar she needed while, like so many days, like so many times, you cooked with her.

A curious routine, cooking, cleaning, sewing… Something that your own conscience used as payment for being a guest who didn't pay for her stay but… Were you really a guest? What were you?

“I've never seen anyone making pasta,” you said curiously, leaning your elbow on the counter. Donna laughed amused, shaking her head. “Well, my grandmother usually…”

“You say I'm like your grandmother?” she joked, kneading calmly.

“No, not at all,” you said, amused, looking hypnotically at that curious dough. “I buy it ready-made, it's easier and faster that way.”

“Chi va piano…”

“Va lontano…” you finished, smiling again, with that damn blush on your cheeks. “It's true, you're right, Donna.”

She glanced at you briefly, giving you another of her beautiful laughs. You were so dazed that nothing mattered anymore, only waking up in that guest room again, only going downstairs to share moments with her, only her, only Donna mattered to you.

“Wait, let me help you,” you said, picking up one of the flour sacks and putting it on the counter with a loud thud, raising a thick cloud of white dust. “Cazzo! Oh, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!”

The lady coughed, brushing the flour away with her hand, clearing her vision. It could be a comedian or a dangerous one, you didn't quite know. Her little apron was unable to stop all the flour, which landed on Lady Beneviento, including her veil.

“Tutto bene?” you asked timidly, brushing the dust out of your hair.

“Sì,” the woman in black murmured, accidentally removing her veil, shaking it in front of your wide-open eyes.

When she realized the mistake she had made, the mistake of showing you her face, she gasped nervously, shaking her head.

You stood petrified, admiring every inch of her beauty, a hidden one, one that you only sensed and you had just confirmed. No, a stupid scar couldn't be that important, it wasn't capable of hiding anything, of overcoming her beauty.

“Non… Non…” she whispered, turning around and covering her face with her hands. “Non guardami!”

“Donna, wait, wait…” you said nervously, putting a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t, don't cover yourself, You are… Sei bellisima…”

“No, no, no…” she repeated, nervously, pushing away your comforting hand. “Sei una bugiarda!”

“I'm not lying, Donna, really, I…” you said, trying to reason with those incipient sobs, with the trembling of her body.

“Now you'll want to leave… You'll make me hurt you!” she shrieked, completely out of control. You shook your head, ignoring that dangerous last sentence.

“Shh,” you whispered softly, turning her around, taking advantage of a slight moment of weakness. “I won't leave, I like being here.”

“No… Non é vero…” she said, moving away from your gaze.

You snatched the veil from her so she couldn't put it back on and, without thinking, you launched yourself at her lips, kissing them fiercely, just as you had wanted to do for a long time, you didn't know how long.

“Donna…” you sighed when you pulled away from the kiss, a messy kiss that she had a hard time joining.

Finally she did, caressing your cheeks, mouth agape by that sudden reaction, one that she was apparently also waiting for.

“You have come into my life like a savior, like a light that has passed through the darkness…” she whispered, kissing you again, losing that fear, that cowardice, the fear of being discovered, of you seeing her wounded face.

What Lady Beneviento didn’t expect, is that you would feel something for her.

“Per favore…Non partire…Rimani con me…Per sempre…” she murmured while your lips caressed each other, while the warmth of that unexpected love slowly passed through your body, until it reached your heart.

“Per sempre…”

#donna beneviento #donna beneviento x reader #re8 donna #re8 village #oneshot #requests

74 notes · View notes

teganc · 7 months ago

Text

Interview Confessions

Rhea Ripley x reader

A/N: This is my First ever Fic. I hope you like it. I would like to thank @rheas-ripley for this request. Go check out her page. She's great.

Monday Night Raw

Y/n POV

Y/n is walking around Backstage in catering grabbing a few snacks walking around before bumping into her ex Tag team partner and girlfriend Rhea Bloody Ripley. " Y/n watch where your going why don't ya, don't want your little fairy wings to get damaged " She starts laughing as Y/n shakes her head rolling her eyes. " Oh we wouldn't want that Mrs all mighty eradicator who's ego is bigger than Texas " Y/n walks away before being stopped by Cathy Kelly. " Y/n How are ya? " Y/n smiles giggling. " I'm ok what's up Cathy " She smiles giggling. " So The questions on everyone's mind is...What is going on Between you and the Women's World Champion Rhea Bloody Ripley " Y/n sighs shaking her head " Nothing tbh i have nothing but the up most respect for her even with everything that happened...she's doing awesome for herself and I couldn't be prouder " Y/n smiles at the memory of her winning the championship off of Charlotte Flair as Cathy clears her throat bringing Y/n out of her daze as Rhea Walks up " Y/n we need to talk " Y/n scoffs looking at her " what about?...cause after 2 years of absolute silence..I don't think there's anything to talk about " Y/n starts walking away as Rhea grabs her hand. " Roo Please..." Y/n stops looking down tearing up having not hearing that Nickname since the betrayal 2 and a half years ago. " Don't call me that ". Rhea looks at her with tears in her eyes as well. " I'm so sorry that I did what I did and how I ended things..if I can go back in time I would...please Sweet Girl...." Y/n looks at her as Rhea smiles softly. " Let me make things right between us ok? " Y/n looks at Cathy who was smiling and giving her the thumbs up before looking at Rhea and smiling. " Ok...." Rhea smiles picking her up and spinning her around looking into her eyes. " Ready to come home pretty girl ? " Y/n nods kissing her softly. " Let's go home " Cathy and everyone who was backstage started cheering and smiling happy to see " Skies Brutality " Back together off screen and on screen

Thee End

A/N: I would love some feedback. Thanks 😊

#rhea ripley #rhea ripley x reader #demi bennett #rhea ripley fanfiction

110 notes · View notes

octuscle · 7 months ago

Note

I’ve always wanted to become a dumb smelly but very hot scally lad! Would it be possible ? Thanks!

Late show at the movie theater. The big Pedro Almodóvar night is on. It was clear that there wouldn't be many guests. But you wouldn't have expected anyone to be there. Well then, don't worry. You're here for the movies, not to talk to somebody.

"Oi, sorry, is this seat taken?" You cringe. The whole movie theater is empty. Why does someone want to sit right next to you? You look up at the young man. He doesn't look like an Almodóvar fan. You're annoyed, but you say that the seat is still free. The young man sits down, takes a bottle of beer out of his jacket and opens it with his lighter. The original "Todo sobre mi madre" is playing. It's been on for half an hour. You doubt that the young man next to you, who looks like a chav, will find his way into the plot. And you're right. After five minutes he has fallen asleep and is snoring. Better than if he was talking to you. After ten minutes, the bottle of beer slips out of his hand. He spills half of it on his crotch. That wakes him up. "Bloody 'ell," he shouts. "Mate, 'old me beer, will ya? I'm off for a slash and to clean up this mess."

It won't take long, but you're enjoying being alone again. Lost in thought, you take a sip of the beer. It's warm and stale. Yikes. The redneck is still waiting for you. The beer wasn't that bad. You take another sip. Just then, the chav comes back. "Bruv, go on and neck it. I've snuck another bottle in 'ere." He takes a pack of cigarettes out of his pants, takes a cigarette and lights it. You actually want to protest and point out to him that smoking is forbidden here. Instead, you hear yourself say "Bollocks, mate! Can I bum a fag off ya?" Without saying a word, he holds the burning fag out to you and lights a new one.

You've seen this movie before. But it's boring as hell. And none of the idiots speak English. Why are you here in this movie? You feel a hand on your crotch. Oh yes, that's why! Your buddy already knows how to get your dick to pop out of your pants like a Jack in the box. Of course, it would be even more awesome if there was some real action on the screen. But somehow it's hot to get a wank with an honest beer and a fag to this boring smart-ass shit. And your buddy's calloused hand knows damn well what it's doing. You just manage to pull up your soccer shirt and cum on your washboard abs. Ian spits on your cum and massages your skin. You could cum all over again. But now it's Ian's turn first.

Dude, if you don't jerk off during it, it's really the most boring movie you've ever seen. You really don't understand a word. You light another cigarette. It's almost lucky for you that the supervisor is about to come and throw you out of the movie theater. Go to the pub for a few more beers. It's more fun and certainly makes more sense.

#male tf #muscle tf #reality change #inked man #chav tf #ai image

141 notes · View notes

thekeystothebasement · 2 years ago

Note

Awesome that you’re taking price requests cause we definitely need more of those!!! Thank you for your service and writing!!

Request:

You’re drunk and your friends dare you to introduce yourself to captain price at a bar. You actually have a nice conversation end up dating and he shows you off and then he breeds you

Haha idk how that escalated quickly but yasss

A/n: I'm so sorry this took so long to post! I've been facing some writer's block, nothing I've been writing has been sounding good 😫

So I apologize if this doesn't meet your expectations! 🧎‍♀️

---

"Your beard looks amazing, it would look even better wet between my legs."

Maybe playing truth or dare with your best friend while alcohol was running through your veins wasn't such a good idea.

Your body went rigid in shock at the words leaving your mouth.

You didn't even greet the man.

You didn't say hello

You didn't ask for his name before the horny thoughts that were clouding your mind all night escaped at the first chance.

Drunk and horny wasn't a good combination.

"What the hell happened to buying someone dinner first?" Price chuckled before taking another sip of whiskey and glancing at you.

"I Ummm..." your train of thought had stopped as you looked into his amused eyes, and a small grin lingered on his lips. "I'll...eat you out for dinner???" your words slurred out, unsure of what you said sounded right.

"fuck. I meant to take you out for dinner.." you cursed. "Not eat you out." you laughed nervously as you looked at the male who couldn't contain his laughter.

"You're fucking pissed..." Price said with an amused tone. " Can't hold your liquor well can you?"

You shook your head no as a small blush dusted your cheeks.

"Dinner sounds nice but so does option two." Price teased.

"Who says we can't do both? I always have room for dessert" you teased back, liquor courage making a comeback inside of you.

"Big appetite?" Price asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Always" you responded with a small smile on your lips while batting your lashes at the older bearded man. His head tilted slightly to the side as his amused eyes never left your face, the smile on his face making you weak on your knees.

"You look like you bite off more than you can chew, young lady."

A playful pout formed on your lips at his words, "awfully rude thing to assume," You crossed your arms under your chest as you glared playfully at him. "Besides, I've been raised to lick my plate clean."

"A good little girl ain't ya?"

"Only when I want to be rewarded." flashing him an 'innocent' smile.

You see him digging through his pockets before pulling out a black marker, he held out his hand and which you reached over and placed your arm in. His calloused hands gently held your wrist as the cool ink of the marker traveled through your arm. You could smell the mix of whiskey and cigar smoke from being so close to him.

"Call me when you're not trollied," he said with a raspy voice, his eyes looking into your shining eyes.

"Trollied? I'm just a bit tipsy," you whined. You tried to lean closer to him but you underestimated the lack of control you had over your body. Before you knew it your face had planted into his chest. Price held onto your upper arms pushing you up.

"Just tipsy, huh?" he said mockingly.

You sent him the middle finger before you rested the side of your head against the bar countertop. You were looking at him while he looked down at you with a soft smile.

"...Harry?" you asked.

"Harry?" he asked back.

"I'm trying to guess your name...Henry?"

"Nope." he took another big gulp from his drink before giving you a clue. "First letter is J."

"James?"

"..."

"...Jack?"

"Fucking hell, do I look like a Jack to you? " he grunted, his eyes squinting at you.

"I'm trying, jeez...Jonathan?"

"You're getting closer, sweetheart."

You kept chanting the name Jonathan before your eyes widened and you looked at him with disgust.

"John? That's such a boring name," you muttered.

"Like your name is any better." he countered

"Best name that will ever leave your mouth" you argued.

"Is that so?" he asked with an eyebrow raised and a cocky smile on his lips.

"It is so, John," you said with emphasis on his name. "The name's y/n"

"Y/n? Only a muppet would have a name like that."

"Fuck you."

"I know you do sweetheart." he teased. "Too fucking drunk to remember your first words to me sweetheart?”"

"Yeah, but with a mouth like yours, the beard gonna stay dry" you taunted.

"Sounds like a challenge," he said while getting closer to your face, noses nearly touching. "Tomorrow night after dinner?"

"Tomorrow night after dinner." you recited his words in agreement.

---

"You're dating the captain?" Gaz asked, bewildered that such a young fine woman would be dating his captain. The captain that he knew was a gruff, grumpy, and bearded old man. The exact man who had a harsh grip on your waist, fingernails plunging into the fabric of your sundress, and harshly pressing into your skin. His usually warm kind eyes, now cold and ruthless, picturing how he could make both of his sergeants suffer for having their eyes roam your body. You both have noticed how their eyes flicker between your eyes and the deep neckline of your dress exposing your cleavage to the young men.

"Why do you both sound so surprised?" Price asked. Standing right behind you, he leaned down and rested his face between your neck and shoulder. His mouth licked a stride of your skin, maintaining eye contact with his men. You let out a small whine at the feeling of his rough beard pricking at your skin, your body slightly squirming against his. "Don't believe your Captain still has his charm?"

"Stop teasing them." you scolded Price, slightly slapping at his chest and pushing him off of your body. You held out your hand, greeting both men formally and apologizing for your lover's behavior. "Well, I hope to see you both more often."

"Likewise bonnie."

---

What was such an honest and somewhat innocent statement from Soap, was the final breaking point for the Captain. Having to constantly see younger males fawn over your beauty, their undeserving eyes devouring your body sometimes left Price self-conscious. It made him question his worth, but you were always ready on your knees to praise him and remind him how wonderful of a lover he is. At other times, it made him territorial, spewing commands and punishments onto you. You were always eager to comply with his commands, and his jealousy and anger were welcomed with your legs wide open, your wet cunt for his personal use. Your moans and whines were encouragement enough for him to know you were his alone.

But for Price to see his own men practically swooning over his lover awakened primal urges in John that were left dormant for far too long. Urges that had you face down onto the sheets with your ass in the air, juices running down your thighs, and a wet cunt milking the captain of his semen.

Rings of white at the base of his cock as you cummed around his length for the fourth time that night. His promises that he growled into your ear had you throbbing around his cock yet again.

"A cunt full of my seed..." Price mumbled against your neck, his fingers kneading the skin of your stomach. "You know what happens if I fuck my cum into your womb don't you darling?" he asked in a teasing voice.

"..b-baby." you cried out. Your back was now pressed against the mattress, Price mounted on top of you with his cock drilling into your gushing wet cunt.

"That's right, princess. You'll look so pretty with a round tummy." Price hissed. Your nails scratched at his back and your legs locked around his waist. "I'll make you a mommy, fuck a baby right into you."

"yes please, daddy." you sobbed. Your back arched as you felt another toe-curling orgasm creeping. "I want to be a mommy. Make me a mommy."

"Shhh..." John shushed, wiping off the tears rolling down your face. " I'll make you a mommy, no need to cry, sweetie."

Small chants of daddy spewed from your mouth as you felt yourself your love juices gush onto Price, absolutely soaking his pelvic region.

"Make you round with my child, your breasts engorged with milk for the baby," Price continued to thrust into you, his cock throbbing, eager to fill your welcoming cunt with his seed. "But you'll let daddy have a taste of your milk, right? Wouldn't want the baby to grow up greedy like his daddy?"

You let out a loud moan as you felt his hot semen spew inside of you, bursts of cum launching deeper and deeper into your womb, Price's words of making you a mommy increasing in possibility. Your legs freed Price from temporary captivity, allowing him to lean back but not pull out just yet. He wanted to ensure his cum stayed inside, his cock merely a cork for your hole at the moment.

---

For the rest of the week, Soap, Gaz, and Ghost would hear you far more often than see you. Your moans of 'daddy' have nearly become background noises, but at night it only serves as a broken alarm keeping them all awake.

" I blame this shit on you" Gaz spat out, trying his best to ignore your begging moans of 'daddy please' through the walls.

"Steamin Jesus." Soap cursed, running and pulling at his mohawk in frustration. "I only called her bonnie, you were eyeing her tits."

Before Gaz could retaliate, Ghost's ruff voice cut through the room. "We are in this fucking bloody situation because you twits don't know to act around anything with tits and a cunt. "

Both men watched as their lieutenant stood up from the room and stated he was going out for a smoke.

"It's gonna be harder to ignore her tits if the Captain knocks her up."

"She'll be walking around with huge milkers."

---

#cod x you #cod x reader #cod imagine #cod smut #captain price #call of duty fanfic #call of duty #call of duty mw2 #captain price smut #captain price x reader

1K notes · View notes

espinosaurusrexex · 2 years ago

Note

*intensely thinking of final answer*

*game show waiting music*

I think I'm going with miscommunication with Bucky.

*presses button to log it in*

*game show celebration music* congratulations! You have a Bingo!!! 💗 This was fun. I'm hoping it counts as Miscommunication because, technically, it's only one-sided. But I loved it so much I had to write it. Anyway - enjoy! 🥰

summary 'cause it's a little longer: You’re the new recruit with mind-controlling abilities and Bucky hates it. But after avoiding you for a while and being responsible for several dangerous situations because of it, Bucky is asked to resolve his issues with you. He’s not amused, but amazing things can happen when people are trapped in elevators and it makes Bucky realize that, maybe, you’re not as awful as he thought.

Miscommunication (Bingo Game)

!BINGO ASKS CLOSED!

BuckyBarnes x Enhanced!Female!Reader

word count: 3.3k

warnings: enemies to friends (for now?), grumpy!Bucky, angst, swearing, sassy reader, arguing, and me trying to be funny

“Can you make people cry?”

“Sometimes.”

“What about making them dance real good.” Another man chimed in. You remembered him introducing himself as ‘The Falcon’.

“Depends.”

“On what?”

“Are you a good dancer?” You smirked.

“Is that a challenge?” He raised his eyebrows.

“What about farts, can you make people fart,” The ant guy asked with enthusiasm.

“I... I haven’t tried that yet.”

“Well, it would be a great prank.”

“I guess?” It wasn’t the weirdest thing you’d been asked before - you’d never forget that day your niece brought you to school for your magic talent... kindergartners asked the most unexpected questions. But hearing them from an adult was still a little unusual.

“So you can just make people do things?” The youngest of the group asked.

“Pretty much.”

“How?”

“It’s hard to explain.”

His eyes lit up. “Woah, so you could make Mr. Falcon go and get me a bowl of popcorn right now?”

“Careful, spider boy.” The man - Sam, you believed - warned.

“I could, yes.”

“I’ve never had this much power!” Peter rubbed his hands with a bright smile - his name was easy to remember with all the questions he fired at you.

“You still don’t, kid. Keep it down a little will ya?” The goatee man tapped his shoulder with the twitch of his brow.

“Oh, yes Mr. Stark. Sorry, Mr. Stark.”

“Tony,” he corrected.

“Right. Mr. Tony, sir.”

You’d been here for thirty minutes and everyone was all over you. You didn’t mind, really. On the contrary, you enjoyed that the people you would work with were actually interested. Well, all except for one. It didn’t go past you that one person had been watching you from the corner the whole time, not losing a word, simply staring ahead broodily with his arms crossed

“Alright, everyone,” Tony clapped once, “last question. I still have to show the rookie the rest of the compound.”

“Oh me, me, me!!!” Peter raised his hand and almost picked Tony’s nose.

“Barnes, do you have anything? You’ve been awfully quiet.”

“I don’t need to know shit, Stark.” The brunette pushed himself off the wall, revealing a couple more inches to his height you had not noticed before.

“Don’t be rude, Mr. Barnes,” Peter pouted; he seemed to be adoring you already.

“I’m not rude. It’s just a stupid power that no one needs. It’s fucking dangerous and shouldn’t be part of the Avengers,” he exclaimed and proceeded to leave the room, making you feel a little sad and the rest of the team look baffled.

“Well... okay.” Tony turned to you, rolling his eyes as Peter’s desperate noises reached his ears again. “What’s your question, Peter?”

“Miss, I don’t think your power is stupid. It’s super mega awesome and I seriously wish I could tell Flash about it, he would be so jealous!” You laughed.

“The question, kid.”

“Oh, yes... can you make animals talk?”

-❁-

That had been about four weeks ago, and Bucky had been avoiding you ever since. He had heard what you could do the first day you got introduced, and thanks to Peter he had more than enough knowledge about how vastly your power reached.

Mind control. That was the fucking last thing they needed on the team. How fucking ridiculous. Bucky didn’t want to have anything to do with it, or you for that matter. It was enough that Wanda had the ability to read minds, he didn’t need someone controlling them on top of it.

So Bucky didn’t like you or your power or the danger that came with it, and he put a huge amount of effort into showing you his disdain. When you entered the room, he stood to leave. When you were assigned on a mission together, he tried to switch with someone else - earning him weeks worth of laundry duty for Sam and dishwashing chores for Nat - but that was worth it. And when he wasn’t able to, he communicated with you as little as possible, earning a couple of scoldings from Stark and Fury for not warning you of threats in time - but really, nothing bad ever happened, so Bucky didn’t know what the problem was.

And soon, much to Bucky’s relief, you started reciprocating the hostile behavior he displayed toward you on a daily basis.

Constant bickering, dangerous situations, and death stares were your new M.O. but Bucky knew it only meant for you to finally back off. Because you had tried to be nice to him in the beginning, and Bucky felt a little bad for making you sad, but it was nothing to how sorry he would be if he ever let you in.

A gunshot sounded through the crackly speaker.

“Fuck!”

Followed by a round of grunts and hits of which a fair amount landed in Bucky’s ribs and face.

“Oh right, there’s a hostile headed your way. Sorry, must’ve slipped my mind. I’m a little ‘careless’ at times.”

Yep, that one had hurt. But he’d rather pack a punch than retract his comment about your being careless. Because that’s what you were - or rather your ability. Careless and dangerous.

Bucky watched as Steve crossed his arms after pausing the recording, his captain stare in full force as he watched his best friend lean back in his chair unimpressed.

“Buck, you know I don’t want to do this but it's also my job to make sure my team is conducting missions safely. So, what’s wrong? You don’t usually act this way - even with people you don’t like - so don’t even try.”

Bucky just huffed, crossing his arms as well. He didn’t feel the need to respond. This was ridiculous; everyone should see how dangerous you were.

“You got a chance to solve this the easy way here. Help me out a little, pal. If you don’t cooperate, I need to apply official protocol. So tell me, please, what’s the problem?” Steve’s eyebrows were raised in anticipation, but Bucky was too sulky to help. To hell with this ‘I’m your friend-‘crap - he should go ahead and apply official protocol, maybe they’d see that your ability alone probably violated six paragraphs of the Avengers’ Oath.

He bit his tongue before losing another comment swirling in his head, looking out the window to distract himself from the unfortunate situation he found himself in. Bucky hated when Steve became all professional with him. It was stupid.

“You’re putting yourself and the team in danger,” Steve tried again, “there must be a reason for your behaving like this. Let me fix it. Let me help-”

“I don’t need fixing!” Bucky snapped, his eyes finding Steve’s in a heartbeat as he leaned forward in his chair.

“Then what is it? Do you like her? Is that why you're being so...” The blonde’s hand flailed in the air as he tried to find the words to describe Bucky’s behavior.

“Fuck no.” He leaned back again.

“Language,” Steve warned, only to earn a side eye from his friend.

Bucky knew exactly why he avoided you. And so should Steve. He was his best friend for fuck’s sake. This was the most unnecessary conversation he’s ever had. If anything, Steve should have his back and not try to ‘fix him’.

“You should talk to her.”

“Funny.”

“I’m being serious. What’s the issue?”

“You know damn well what the issue is, Steve!” Bucky rose from his chair but Steve didn't flinch. He merely scolded him for his cursing again.

But after a minute of blank staring at each other, Steve broke the silence again. “You’re scared.”

And Bucky exhaled a long breath before training his eyes on the ceiling. “Of course I’m scared, Steve! There is nothing worse than not being in control.” He looked at him. “Im gonna hurt people. I have before. And being close to her... It just makes the possibility of the winter soldier returning a lot more likely.”

“She wouldn’t do that.”

“You don’t know that. She’s had no training; it could happen accidentally.

Steve was quiet for a while, just looking at his friend, assessing his comment. Bucky could see the wheels turning behind his eyes and after a while, he just stared out the window again until the blonde would present another righteous monologue to him.

“You should tell her,” Steve finally said and Bucky wondered why it had taken him so long to come up with a sentence he’d already said.

“I don’t need to tell her shit. Just keep her away from me.” He rolled his eyes, but he was desperate at this point. Bucky just wanted to go - leave and stop being bothered by everyone.

Steve just shook his head in defeat - Bucky had done it again. Successfully shaken the unavoidable for today. He smiled to himself as he turned to leave the conference room. But before he could reach the last chair on his way, Steve held him back one last time.

“She’s a very nice person, you know? And your attitude towards her is affecting everyone on the team. Maybe, if you could look past your issues with her... You’d see how nicely she fits in with us.” Steve cocked his head to the side with a small smile. “I’m sure you’d get along if you just took the time to get to know her...”

But Bucky only replied with a bitter ‘shut up, punk’ before averting his eyes again. He didn’t like this at all.

Steve sighed. “Just promise me you’ll do something.”

Bucky shot him one last look before turning and leaving without another response.

-❁-

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” Bucky looked at you through hooded eyelids upon your entering the elevator.

You just ignored him. You had tried to be nice long enough, tried to make him your friend one too many times, each one teaching you just how vain the attempt had been. Because if you had learned one thing about Bucky Barnes over the past month, it was that he hated your guts and that he was not willing to try and be civil with you. So, you saw no reason to be nice anymore.

“Don’t act like it's my pleasure either.” You turned and faced the door after pushing the buttons to your floor.

Bucky just huffed behind you and you held your head a little higher, trying to let the seconds pass until you could leave again. It’s only an elevator ride - how hard could it be? But time seemed to pass slower than usual, and the unsteady rattling of the glass chamber going up the tower made the whole ordeal that much more unpleasant.

That was until it suddenly stopped, a screeching sound echoing through the small space until the elevator halted abruptly, making you lose your balance for a brief moment.

“What the-“ you muttered and pressed the floor button another time. Then again. And again. But nothing happened.

You tried the emergency call button, but again, nothing. You were stuck. Several hundred feet in the air with Bucky Barnes. Great.

You took a deep breath, there were worse things, you tried to calm yourself, but upon stealing a glance over your shoulder, only to see Bucky glaring at you, that attempt disintegrated. Still, you chose to ignore him. You’d get out of here eventually. Someone would notice you were missing and look for you, check the security cameras, maybe - do something and finally break open these damn elevator doors.

But then Bucky began to shuffle behind you, his steps clicking on the tiled floor of the lift, and uneven pace interrupted by the confines of the small room and it agitated you. It was enough you were stuck in an elevator when you had work to do. Now you couldn’t even concentrate.

“Would you stop pacing?” You finally snapped and turned around only to see Bucky staring at you with wide eyes.

But he caught himself quickly. “What’s it matter to you?”

“It’s annoying. And as much as I hate to be stuck in here with you, we need to find a way not to kill each other until someone comes to help.” You turned back around taking another deep breath and enjoying the silence.

It didn’t last long though because the shuffling picked back up again soon. You waited another minute, but when Bucky made even more noise, a thudding sound coming from behind, you whipped around again to yell at him.

But you stopped in your tracks as you saw him kneeling on the floor, his head tugged beneath his arms as his shoulder heaved rapidly.

“Wha-“You moved forward to help but-

“Stay away from me!” He spat with fire in his eyes and then his head was back between his knees.

You took a step back and assessed the situation. The posture, the heavy breathing, the slight shudder in his hands, the constant rocking. He was scared. He was having a panic attack.

And as much as you wanted to avoid him, you were not cruel. When someone needed help, you helped. “Bucky-“

“I said stay the fuck away!” He crawled back into the corner.

You held your hands up in surrender, carefully trying to speak again. “I just want to help-“

“Well, I don’t need your help. Just back off!” The elevator shook with the boom of his voice, making your breath hitch.

That was it, the last straw. All the pent-up anger of the past weeks bubbled to the surface, desperation and cluelessness balling up in frustration. You could barely feel it crawl up your body before you opened your mouth and screamed back. “What's your problem Bucky? I want you to feel better! What did I do that makes you hate me so much?!”

Your chest heaved in anger, your hands balling into fists as you watched Bucky get up slowly - eyes darker than you’d ever seen before. His arm whirred but he didn’t move it. He merely stepped a little closer to you, towering over you when his husky voice mumbled into the space between you.

“I don’t hate you.” You swallowed and stared up at him, he was intimidating. “I’m fucking scared to lose control and-“ his vibranium arm shot up towards you but you stopped it in its tracks. Bucky’s fist was hanging in the air above you, your power holding him off and it took a fair amount of strength to do so. His eyes shot from his fist back to you, jaw tensing.

“I would never do that.”

“You’re telling me I’m irrational?” He hinted towards his arm still held back by your control and you immediately let it fall back to his side. “...that it couldn’t happen by accident?”

“You underestimate me, Bucky.” You pressed with spite, willing him back a step to leave you space to breathe again.

“I don't know you.”

“And who’s fault is that?” That shut him up.

Bucky flexed his vibranium fingers, testing his own control again before his eyes found you again.

“Let me show you.” You tried softly. Maybe this was the gateway to a start-over. At least now you knew the issue, now there was only solving it left.

Bucky looked at you questioningly.

“Let me show you why you don’t need to be scared.” You smiled and somehow it softened the tension around you.

Bucky’s shoulders relaxed when he stood up straighter. “And why would I want that?” He was stubborn.

“I’m offering an olive branch here. And after all that you have pulled, I suggest taking it. Because I cannot guarantee I’ll feel this nice again if you don’t.”

Bucky watched you carefully for a moment. As if he was trying to detect a joke in your statement, he analyzed every inch of your body suspiciously. And then after another minute, he sighed in defeat.

“Then we need to get out of here.”

-❁-

Bucky was still a little wary now that you had dragged him outside. The sun was shining in the bright blue sky but having you stand so close to him was still making him nervous. He had no idea what he had just signed up for.

There were a few people outside as well, all going about their days and when he turned his head to you, he noticed you watching them intently.

“I can feel their energy,” you stated, making Bucky check if anyone was behaving as though he was influenced by you in any way - they weren’t.

“And, yes, I can make living beings succumb to my will, but when I do, I feel their pain, their mental wars...” You looked at him and Bucky could feel your eyes pushing through to his deepest fears. “I wouldn’t make them do anything I wouldn’t want to endure myself... unless, of course... it’s necessary.”

Bucky thought back to a mission a while back. You had been utilized to make a hostile talk using rather unorthodox strategies. This time you actually had to hold them in place - position their limbs in places they shouldn’t be. He closed his eyes when he remembered your death cries. They had been hunting him for days. But other than you, the hostile had been killed.

“You’re mentally linking with them,” he whispered almost ashamed for not noticing it earlier. Everyone on the team probably knew it already - he had just never taken the time to listen.

“Yes.” He swallowed thickly, watching as you turned to him fully and he mirrored your action.

“If I were to make you- if I..,” you trailed off, took a deep breath, and shook your head. “I wouldn’t do that.”

And that’s when Bucky finally understood. All this time he had avoided you, fought with you, and despised you for thinking you’d be cruel for fun. He felt awful.

Your name slipped from his lips for the first time, calling your attention to his sorrowful eyes. “I’m so sorry.”

You nodded. “It’s okay. I understand it’s scary. I was scared of it, too, when I first found out... But I had a lot of time to learn. And now... I actually know how to utilize my power - control it. It even has some perks.”

Bucky’s eyebrows raised intrigued. A silent question to which you only responded by carefully reaching your hand out so his flesh one.

“Can I?” You asked before actually taking it and Bucky just nodded while watching you carefully.

He felt a lot calmer than he had before. And when you finally touched his calloused fingers, there was no urge to pull away like there had always been. You smiled at him and then nodded up to the sky, urging him to follow your stare.

“Look,” you whispered, and then Bucky felt his spine tingle. All of a sudden, it felt like his feet were lifted off the ground - smooth and subtle - almost comforting, he was engulfed by the feeling of floating - no - flying.

His eyes followed the birds in the sky, which were now rounding effortless constellations several feet above his head and Bucky just knew that they were feeling the same - exactly the same. It was amazing, and even though it was a little strange and scary, your hand holding his made him feel unusually safe.

After a while, Bucky felt the feeling subside, the birds in the sky stopped flying above him and continues their journey east again. Your hand left his but he still felt lighter than he had ever before.

His smile found you. “That’s actually pretty amazing,” he beamed before looking at the birds passing him and then back to you again.

“Yeah... it is.” You smiled as well and Bucky felt all his doubts about you float away with the feeling this extraordinary experience had brought him.

Maybe mind control wasn’t as ridiculous and careless as he had thought it to be...

if you liked this fic, please tell me - it means so much 💓

Wanna be added to the taglist?

@circe143 @valkyrie418 @mirikusashes @noideawhyimdoingthislol @nikkitc0703 @lethallyprotected @erynnnn @misshale21 @wattpaduser200 @buckyseddie @adoreyouusugar @almosttoopizza @sociallyimpairedme @royalwritersoftheuniverses @i-l-y-3000 @mrsgweasley @prettylittlepluviophile @dinwifey @stuckysgirl27 @wintermischief @supersecretblogformytreasures @broadwaybabe18 @fridayiaminlove @buckybarnessimpp @goodkittyspost @justafangir1 @simpxinnie

627 notes · View notes

bluebeary-jay · 1 year ago

Note

CONGRATS!!! 1000 FOLLOWERS IS SO AWESOME AND I'M HAPPY FOR YOU!!🥰🩷

For the celebration I'm thinking Joel has lived in Jackson for months and has a bad reputation so people mostly avoid him and he always keeps to himself. BUT reader is the exception, always with a big smile and really polite to him (and he has a terrible crush on her). She always sees him alone at the bar looking around and seeming dislocated and decides to ask him "may I have this dance" cause she likes him too, but he panic and refuses. Later he realizes he's missing his chance with her and tries to fix it. Just some nice fluff (with age gap please🙏)

HIIIII SO SORRY FOR THE WAIT NONNIE

(okay so I'm back-ish, I apologize to everyone for disappearing but i had a rough couple of weeks and had to deal with a lot of stuff. i actually finished this fic some time ago but didn't have strength to post it but i'm more ready now so here you go <3 i hope you'll like it, i had a lot of fun writing it!! and thank you for requesting!! love you 🥰)

Joel Miller was a recluse. Everyone knew that, though not many were aware that he didn’t exactly choose this kind of life for himself.

He really hoped that things would get better after he settled down in Jackson with Ellie, but the residents of the town made it very clear that they didn’t want his company. It stung a little, especially since Joel didn’t think he gave them any reason to be wary of him, but he hid his hurt well. With time he got used to nasty whispers, people giving him a wide berth and basically everyone but Tommy and Ellie avoiding him. It was unpleasant, sure, but he learned to just deal with it.

Well, there was also you.

Joel had no clue what your deal was. Why you weren’t shying away from him like your fellow peers and why you went out of your way to always catch him into a conversation or smile at him whenever you saw him.

“I think she’s crushin’ on ya,” Tommy told him once during a dinner at his house. Ellie and Maria weren’t present, the latter showing the teen some clothes she might want – and thank fuck for that. Joel would murder his little brother if he said such nonsense in their presence.

“The hell you’re talkin’ about?” he spluttered, his eyebrows furrowed when Tommy sent him a smug, knowing grin. The question was completely unnecessary, of course, since they were already talking about you, but still Joel hoped he somehow misinterpreted his brother’s words.

“Don’t play dumb with me, Joel.” He sprawled out on the chair, still with that stupid smirk. “I really think she’s into you. I’d ask her out if I were you.”

“There’s no… I assure you she isn’t.”

“But if she was–”

“She’s not. Now can I eat my meal in peace?” Joel placed his hands on the table, but Tommy shook his head.

“But you like her, right? She’s nice.”

Joel sighed. “Yeah, she is.”

“And pretty.”

That Joel didn’t fall for. He glared at his brother.

“Jesus, Tommy, let me have it. I’m lucky she even wants to talk to me, with all her friends tellin’ her I’m bad news and me being half her age older.”

His eyes became solemn and voice took a lower, quieter tone, which told Tommy the matter was hitting Joel harder than he let on. He sat up straight, getting rid of the teasing smile.

“Alrigh’. Sorry for bringin’ it up.” Joel sighed and nodded, signifying that everything was okay. “I just want you to be happy, y’know. Maybe you should give yourself a chance.”

The older Miller didn’t answer and took a big swig of whiskey out of his glass.

The problem was, he didn’t need Tommy to tell him all that. Joel would have to be blind and stupid not to notice how breathtakingly beautiful you are, and this, combined with your intelligence, passion and sense of humor, was his ultimate undoing. Every time he talked with you, it was all he could do to hide the redness in his cheeks and the weakness in his knees.

But he did. ‘Cause, let’s be real – even though Joel recognized he had a terrible crush on you (though it took him weeks to make peace with this fact) he knew there was no way in hell you’d find him even a fraction as attractive as he found you. He was almost twice your age, for heaven’s sake, and such a young, gorgeous woman as you would never agree to throw her life away to be with an old man.

But God knew that with each day you broke down his walls, the desire to kiss you was becoming more and more agonizing. Every smile you sent his way worked only to feed his imagination of how soft your lips would surely be if he could only brush his thumb across it, not to mention touch them with his own. He wondered how your hands, so much smaller than his calloused ones, would feel on his stomach or shoulders. How it would be to embrace you with his arms, skin to skin and without any layers in-between.

Those were not the thoughts he should be having, especially in public – yet here he was, several days after his conversation with Tommy, imagining impossible while he watched you laughing on the dance floor with your friend. You looked so carefree, so happy and full of life, your energy only reminding Joel sourly of his own old age.

He noticed you glancing his way several times throughout the evening but he knew it didn’t mean anything, it would never mean anything other than your innocent friendliness. So he just quickly looked away lest you realize he was staring.

Joel took a swing from his glass and looked around the bar, trying to take his mind off you – fruitlessly. His eyes still darted back to you every few seconds, involuntarily roaming over your exposed skin visible under the nice outfit you picked for tonight. It was driving Joel insane with longing and need, and all he could think of was the mental image of how kissing and touching you gently would feel like.

Bet you’d feel so perfect under his palms.

He closed his eyes and propped up his forehead on his fist, trying to tune out the music and all the distracting background noises.

Keep it together.

He had to remember that he was way too old to be this enamored with a young, pretty girl like you. You would surely be repulsed if you had any clue about what was going on in his head, and some of the thoughts he had–

Then, Joel felt a light touch on his shoulder and lo and behold – there you were, standing right in front of him with a bright smile, as if summoned by his thoughts.

“Hi,” you said, tilting your head in that endearing way that made his insides tighten. “What are you doing here alone, cowboy?”

Joel prayed that he wasn’t blushing, though his hope diminished increasingly when your eyes wandered curiously across his features. Your eyebrows rose slightly and he cursed internally.

Fuck, you were so beautiful.

“M’not…” He cleared his throat and started again. “M’waitin’ for Tommy. He had to sort somethin’ out with… uh, someone.” He drummed his fingers against the table but stopped immediately, not wanting to give you an impression that the conversation with you was boring him. “You don’t have to do it, darlin’.”

You gave him a puzzled look, and he explained. “Y’know. Hang out with me. The people like to talk nasty things and I don’t wanna expose you to that.”

“It doesn’t bother me.” You shrugged with a sweet smile which Joel could kill for just to see it one more time. “And I… enjoy spending time with you.“

It didn’t mean anythin’. You were just bein’ friendly.

But even though he kept repeating it to himself like a mantra, Joel could not take his eyes off you. You were a vision – your profile bathed in the soft lights of the bar, your bottom lip between your teeth as you looked over your shoulder, deep in thought, at the stereo tower. The current song’s notes died down and a new one, much slower and romantic, started to play. You took a deep breath and let out a nervous laugh. “Actually I wanted to ask you something. If you don’t mind.”

“Ask away, darlin’.” He offered you a small smile, hoping to put you at ease, and you wetted your lips – which nearly gave him a heart attack and caused him to almost miss your next words.

“May I have this dance?”

Joel’s world stopped for a moment. He was in the middle of lifting the glass of whiskey to his lips but his muscles stiffened and the tumbler slipped out of his cold fingers. It didn’t shatter, but the rich liquid spilled all over the table. Your eyes flickered to the overturned glass, but Joel didn’t pay it any mind, too stunned to look at anything else but you.

“C-come again?” he stuttered, his voice strained and small. In the corner of his eye he noticed people at the next table glancing their way, alarmed by the noise, but he forced his attention back to you.

“This is my favorite song,” you explained shyly, an adorable blush spreading across your cheeks and neck. “So… may I have this dance, Joel?”

Now the people sitting around them definitely heard that, because they started smirking and whispering, and one person went to another group standing nearby on the dance floor. Joel felt his own face growing hot as he watched them pointing not-so-discreetly in his direction.

It was like the most wonderful dream and the most horrible nightmare come true at the same time.

He couldn’t do it. There was no way, not in front of all the people of Jackson who hated and despised him. He didn’t want to give them a show to gossip about or worse, subject you to their disdain.

But you still stood in front of his chair with an innocent, hopeful smile, though you started to shuffle the longer Joel was silent. The song – your favorite, supposedly – was passing in the background but you kept waiting patiently for an answer to your question.

He had to come up with something. Or just explain to you that he doesn’t dance – the sweet little thing you were, you’d probably understand and not pressure him into doing it. At least he hoped so.

C’mon, say somethin’.

“No.”

Your face fell instantly and Joel’s eyes widened at the mortifying realization of what just came out of his mouth.

Anythin’ but THAT.

You stared at him for a couple of seconds in the silence of the bar before your eyes started to glisten and you averted your gaze. Someone to Joel’s left snickered derisively and in the next second whispers erupted all around you two. You seemed to shrink in yourself, embarrassment and regret marking your beautiful face, and Joel’s heart almost broke when a tear slipped from your eye, and then another one fell down your other cheek.

“Okay,” you murmured, wiping the treacherous tears quickly and keeping your gaze trained on the floor. “Sorry. Sorry.”

You turned on your heel and went to exit the establishment, your step gradually turning into a run when the giggles and whispers around you became louder. The door swung open on the winter wind and just like that, you were gone.

Then all eyes turned to Joel – and the shame Joel felt increased at least tenfold.

He saw Tommy standing up and walking toward him from the other side of the room with worry written all over his face, but Joel didn’t stick around to hear what he had to say. He stood up and left through the same door you did, glaring threateningly at anyone stupid enough to still snicker at the situation they witnessed.

Ten minutes later Joel was standing in front of your door, trying to keep his knocking below the ‘desperate’ level.

He realized that he had to tell you. He intended to keep the feelings he harbored for you bottled up for the rest of his life but you needed to know the reason why he turned you down. You needed to hear from him that he cared about you, that it wasn’t some malicious act toward you but sheer cowardice stemming from the problem that he was madly in love with you.

“Hello? It’s… it’s Joel,” he choked out through his tight throat as he knocked again, a little louder this time. “Darlin’, can I talk to you?”

No response came, though he saw the lights in your house were on, and Joel had to take a deeper breath to calm his nerves. He prayed that he hadn’t completely screwed it up, but for now all the evidence spoke against him.

You wanted to dance with him. You gathered your courage just to ask him for a dance and he said no.

Joel knew he lost his chance. He lost you. You were his only friend in town and he somehow managed to fuck everything up with just one word.

He was so lost in his wallowing in despair that he almost missed the door opening slightly. In the gap of the doorway he caught a glimpse of your iris – and though it was only for a split second, Joel could clearly see that your eye was red. A pang of guilt pierced his chest but once you saw it was him, you shut the door again.

“No, darlin’, please. Please, just let me explain.” A wave of desperation and fear threatened to drown him and Joel’s heart clenched in his chest. “I’m so sorry, I acted like an asshole but I never wanted to hurt you, I just… I-I panicked.”

He was babbling, not even knowing if you were still there on the other side of the door, but the desperate and remorseful words were spilling out of him like a waterfall.

“I’m so sorry. Sweetheart…” Joel sighed, putting his hand on the cold wood of the door and listening for a couple of seconds, but there was no sound coming from inside. “Please. I’m beggin’ you, open the door.”

Then he heard something – a sound like blowing one’s nose. Joel froze for one, two… three seconds, and nearly collapsed in relief when you unlocked the door.

“You can come in,” you said, but didn’t meet his eyes. “You’re probably freezing, no?”

Joel nodded, feeling his throat going dry at the sorrowful sight of you. He crossed the threshold, closing the front door quietly behind him and looked you over. You hadn’t changed out of that pretty outfit of yours yet, although it was now covered by a long cardigan that you draped over your shoulders. In your hand you held a crumpled tissue but quickly pocketed it when Joel’s eyes fell on it.

He opened his mouth with a sharp inhale but before he could apologize, you beat him to it.

“I’m sorry for that,” you blurted out and glanced up at him but quickly looked down at the floor again. “I shouldn’t have asked you to dance in front of all those people and I overreacted because then everyone was looking at me… Look, it wasn’t even that big of a deal so don’t read into it. Everything is fine.”

“No, it’s not,” he said softly and you pressed your lips into a thin line. “You have nothin’ to apologize for. I’m sorry for embarrassin’ you. I panicked ‘cause I–”

“It’s fine,” you muttered again. “Just forget it.”

“I can’t. Listen, sweetheart, I panicked ‘cause I wish I could let myself read into it.”

Your head snapped up and Joel swallowed heavily, realizing how stupid that sounded.

“What I mean–” Fuck, he really was shit at talking so openly about these stuff. “I… I have feelings for ya. Had ‘em for a long time now but I never planned on actin’ on ‘em ‘cause I know I’m too old and you’d never…”

“You’re… really?” you asked with wide eyes, but he tuned your words out, fearing that you were going to kick him out at any second.

“I’m only tellin’ you all this ‘cause I need you to know I care about ya and I didn’t say ‘no’ outta malice or… or ‘cause I don’t like you. I do. Too much, I’m afraid.”

You were staring at him, mouth agape and silent. Joel didn’t move, awaiting your reaction – whether you tell him to get out or scream how disgusting he was, he was going to take it. And then, if you never want to see him again, he’ll accept it. One day. But he doubted his heart would ever recover.

“Let me fix it,” he begged, his voice just above a whisper when you didn’t give any reaction to his confession. “Please, darlin’.”

Your eyes skimmed over his face as you hummed to yourself, almost irritably calm. Joel swallowed, the weight of guilt and anticipation pulling him down – and he was ready to fall to his knees before you when finally you lifted your hand to brush his lower lip with your fingertips, so delicately he could barely feel it. He froze and tried not to breathe, not wanting to cause you to pull away.

“I noticed something when you were rambling,” you said with a hint of reflection. Joel had no idea what was happening or why were you acting that way, but he daren’t move. He briefly entertained a thought that he was dreaming, but then his attention got caught by the sight of the corner of your lips twitching slightly, as if you were keeping yourself from laughing.

His chest expanded with hope so strong, it was almost unbearably painful.

“What is it?” he forced himself to speak, the nerves making his voice weak and raspy.

“Your accent gets heavier when you’re nervous,” you mused, as though to yourself, now trailing your fingertips down his stubbly cheek. “It’s cute.”

His heart lurched at your words. You gazed up at him and absently bit your lip, which Joel found downright sinful.

“Do you have any idea how long it took me to gather the courage to make the first move?” Your words were bitter, but there was a trace of relief in your voice. Joel let your fingers wander across the lines of his jaw and cheekbones, wishing he had enough boldness to touch you like that, too, but suddenly, your hand stilled and your eyes met his again. “Did you mean it? The things you said?”

“Yes,” he answered without hesitation, his own fingers twitching as he restrained himself from reaching for you. His head was spinning, trying to comprehend the meaning of your actions and words. “But do you–”

You touched his lips lightly again, silencing his question, and your features slowly were overtaken by a large, bright smile, which seemed to lift all the heavy weight of worry from Joel’s shoulders.

“You wanted to fix it, right?” you asked in a teasing whisper. He nodded. “Then just ask me.”

You weren’t angry. You weren’t pulling away.

You wanted to dance with him and you gathered the courage to do so, and now Joel had to do the same. He couldn’t waste this second chance you gave him.

The corner of his lips quirked upwards and he exhaled shakily.

“May I have this dance?”

You pursed your lips to hide your joy and side-eyed him, but your eyes were sparkling with playfulness. “You know, I think I should respond the same way you did. Just to be fair.”

“Sweetheart, don’t play with this old man’s heart,” he whispered and smiled shyly when you giggled at the exasperation but also uncertainty in his voice. Joel still felt kind of out of it, too stunned to trust his mind that this was really happening – but the sound of your laughter brought him right back to Earth, to the place he wanted to be more than anywhere else.

“You’re lucky I’m feeling generous tonight, Miller.” You took his hand and brought it to your hip, making Joel’s breath hitch in his throat and cheeks grow warm. His reaction didn’t get past you, and you smiled at him so radiantly that his world started to spin. Then your arms wrapped around his neck and you pressed your body against his. “But you’ll have some atoning to do.”

His throat was dry, but Joel returned your shy smile, stepping to the side and guiding you carefully to the thumping rhythm of his heart.

And a couple of minutes later, after more hushed apologies and assurances during your slow-dancing, Joel placed his hand on your cheek, almost letting out a relieved whimper when you nuzzled your face into his palm.

And after another few minutes went by, when he leaned in and you didn’t stop his lips from meeting yours, he knew he was a goner.

He couldn’t get rid of the big smile on his face – perhaps the first real one since arriving in Jackson all those months ago.

#bluebeary-jay's 1k party #pedro pascal x reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller #pedro pascal #joel miller fluff #peepaw needs some love and we need a volunteer #joel miller x you #the last of us #i love writing joel so shy and fumbling over his words #he might be an unstoppable force and ready to kill people without batting an eye but he WILL blush while talking to a pretty girl

230 notes · View notes

biribaa · 2 years ago

Note

I feel offended by the people who didn't request about Narrator or AM 😔 So I gonna make the first move.

May I request a hc of AM x reader? Your hc are awesome! :D

I'm not quite sure if I request yandere or just a normal X reader... that can be up to ya!

Some AM x reader hcs!

Aww thank u!! :] Tbh ur request and rbs always make my day

TW/CW: Mentions and descriptions of torture

Everything is so…confusing. That warm feeling is confusing, and AM hates it. No... No, he's not feeling sorry for you, because you're in those rags that once were clothes, being forced to eat worms and crushed cockroaches and being forced to interact with these... Filthy creatures. AM refuses every second that what he feels is some form of...closeness? After seeing you damaged in some way, even if it's the smallest thing AM has done, like breaking a bone or two.

AM refuses to believe that you are attractive, he tries in any way to deceive himself into thinking that you are a disgusting, repulsive creature like all human beings are. Any scientific information about human appearance, AM will use to convince himself and you that scientifically it is impossible for him to find you attractive after you are scientifically not!

And after all, it's not like you're not like every other human he's ever seen, ignorant, mean, fake and hypocrites.

But what made his doubts grow the most was the day you were away from the human group, and simply asked AM how he was feeling. For a supercomputer of great power, it took him quite a few seconds to answer that question, trying to somehow check if this was some kind of ironic joke, only for him to respond in a passive aggressive way.

But this question stuck in AM's thoughts, was it genuine? AM forces himself more and more to try to ignore these thoughts, to force himself to think about the conclusion that all, ALL humans are sickening.

But even so, your face doesn't leave the AI's head, no matter how much he lies saying he hates you now and forever.

It didn't take long for one or two of the humans (cof cof mainly Gorrister cof cof) to protest about these possible AM gifts to you. A blonde said you were screwing him, a german one commented that you were manipulating him to gain an advantage, until it all got to AM's nerves, and he made the conclusion that you don't deserve to go through the hell of hearing all those comments from the five. And suddenly, in the blink of an eye, you find yourself in a cubicle, with a bed and a single ceiling lamp as a light source.

So... AM starts a game with you, what he calls "Manipulating Y/N into thinking I'm being nice to them and then torturing them again and again and again" was basically him giving you little charming gifts. It all started with you waking up in better clothes, then, after the others were fed termites, you were fed what looked like one of your favorite snacks! And apparently, anyone who tried to take a piece got electrocuted, even though you wanted to share some with the rest(sweet, sweet Y/N, your kindness burns the circuits of AM, but the same is not known if it is anger or... Passion...). And then, on a walk, you are all confused by what appears to be a bouquet of intact flowers, coincidentally your favorite flowers?

AM's plan would be much more obvious if you're someone who relies on meds, seriously, you'll be walking around and suddenly the exact box of meds you take

It was quiet indeed, but the fun part was when you and AM shared some conversations. Sometimes an outburst from AM, or even something silly, like you asking AM if the chicken or the egg came first.

AM felt... Good, after years, he felt good. Incredible as it sounds, AM enjoyed the conversations between you and him. The AI never thought taking a break from 15 minutes of torture would be so much fun.

AM never believed that he would be so interested in knowing more about a human's interests, he felt a little silly because of it... But it's not like the rest of the humans could just walk in there and judge the two of you without a torture of removing thekr skin and repeating it 200-times.

AM asks himself several nights if he is really in love with you, and wants to try a romantic relationship, but sometimes he doesn't even know if what he's feeling is true love, just like he doesn't know if he can feel love.

And in one night, AM tries to argue with you about these questions about love...

Only for this idiot to accidentally confess to you(HES SO DUMB OMFG)(SILLY, NO!!!!!!)(Pls have patientce with him mf doesnt know what love is, i mean, he knows but- whatever you got it)

Of course you say yes, after all you are here to date the evil computer why the hell you would want a "no" option huh??? Unless you want to just be friends with the computer. But whatever we are here for the hot stuff.

While hundreds of writers write AM as confident and romantic partner and etcetera blah blah blah, I don't hold out much hope that AM would be directly as confident about a romantic relationship... He's gentle, and shy at first, hardly looking like the AM you once knew. AM is just... New, in this whole thing called love, he was created for war and war only, he never imagined in a cute romantic scenario.

And of course, he'll do a lot of things wrong at first, but hopefully you'll forgive him and help him learn how to be a good boyfriend. An example was the day he gave you decapitated human organs as a gift, trying to show his loyalty to you, which of course caught you off guard, but you forgave AM of course, for not knowing well all this romantic stuff.

Over time, AM's attitude improves! He becomes less shy, and now his gifts are no longer organs. He tries to hug you with his wires and introduce you to the poetry he writes! :)

AM tries his best to heal all the mental and physical wounds he left you with from his past tortures. Of course he will continue the torture he does with the other fives, but he tries to be sweeter and kinder to you. Using pet names, listening to you like you listen to him, cuddles and food that isn't worms!

Sometimes or other AM can be rough because, well, he's AM. And even if AM disagrees with you or not, he would feel like the most special AI in the world if you still tried to understand AM or even stay with him. He genuinely never had anyone who at least tried to stand by him, and having you, still supporting and cherishing AM, is definitely something that can prove that you do indeed love AM... In which, well, makes AM a bit emotional

I think yall can see I really hate Gorrister troguht these headcanons fuck you Gorrister

#canon x reader #x reader #reader insert #i have no mouth and i must scream #ihnmaims #ihnmaims x reader #ihnmaims am #am ihnmaims #am i have no mouth and i must scream #i have no mouth and i must scream x reader #am x reader #headcanon #headcanons

657 notes · View notes

dyscanthe · 1 month ago

Text

Special Halloween Party Event

Chapter 2: Nap

This is a rough translation of the story. You may encounter minor errors on the way, please be understanding and considerate (⁠*⁠´⁠ω⁠｀⁠*⁠) With that being said, enjoy reading!

ITALICS - Narration; BOLD ITALIC - Dialogue

On a certain afternoon. The sky today is clear and the weather is pleasant as well. I was taking a walk outside when I came across Lono and Purin napping while lying in the garden...

Purin: Feels so good~

Lono: Yeah. I only lied down at Purin's suggestion, but this is awesome.

Purin: Right~? Today the weather is super good... I thought it'd be great to take a nap under a blue sky like this.

Lono: Thanks for inviting me, Purin. Mm?

*stands up* Ah, Aruji-sama! You're here!

Sorry, did I bother you?

Lono: No, not at all! You didn't!

Purin: Ah! It's arujisama! Hello~♪

Hello

Purin: You see~ I'm taking a nap with Lono-kun now~!

The weather is pleasant after all

Purin: Yeah! Oh ♪ arujisama, you should join us... Guu~

Is that the sound of your stomach...?

Purin: I'm hungry after I've taken a nap. Ehehe ♪

(Cute...)

Lono: Ah! I have just the thing, could you wait here for a few sec?

Purin: Oh~ What is it ♪ Is it snacks?

Lono: Look forward to seeing it then! Aruji-sama, please look forward to it too! I'll return soon, so please wait here with Purin!

All right.

-A few minutes later-

Lono: Ta-da! Lono's special homemade puddings!

Purin: Ya~y! Puddings!

Lono: Hehe, I've heard your favorite food is pudding so I tried to make it.

Purin: It looks tasty~! Lono-kun, you're so good at cooking~!

Lono: You can say that~! All things considered, I'm Aruji-sama's butler after all!

Lono is my proud cook.

Lono: Hehe, sorry. Looks like I got lectured somehow.

It's what I think from the bottom of my heart.

Lono: Thank you very much.

Purin: Excuse me! Can I eat it?

Lono: Sure. Aruji-sama, please have a taste too.

Can I too?

Lono: What are you talking about? That goes without saying, of course you can! I made plenty of them, so you can ask for two or three... Just eat as much as you want!

Thank you, Lono.

Purin: Thanks for the treat~♪ Mm~♪ So good~♪ I love the puddings Mama made... But I also love the tasty puddings Lono-kun made!

Lono: Great to know you like it!

I'll try them too.

Lono: Yes! As you please!

Mm! So good!

Lono: Hehe, thank you very much! Ah...! I almost forgot. I gotta go and buy the dinner ingredients soon. That was close, it almost slipped from my mind since I'm enjoying myself. See ya, Purin. Remember to get along with Aruji-sama.

Purin: Lono-kun, are you going out?

Lono: Yeah. I'll be going to the town for a bit.

Purin: I hate house-sitting~ I wanna go out together ♪

Lono: M~mm. Well, whatever!

Will it be all right? People could see him.

Lono: It'll be fine! I'll help Purin out when that happens! Okay! Let's go, Purin!

Purin: Hooray~♪ Arujisama, let's go together~!

Lono: Aruji-sama, would you like to come along if you like?

All right.

Lono: Purin, can you promise me one thing? It'll be bad if you stand out in the town. Could you stay still while Aruji-sama carries you?

Purin: Okay! I got it! Still—...... like that ♪

Lono: Right! Still—... like that!

Thanks for being allowed to go out... Purin started eating his puddings happily.

Lono: Man, he's cute.

You're right.

Lono: Purin is so attached to me... It's like having a little brother... It makes me want to make all his wishes come true.

Lono is such a kind big brother.

Lono: Aruji-sama... Hehe, thank you.

#aknk #akuneko #あくねこ #devil butler with black cat #悪魔執事と黒い猫 #aknkslations #akuneko translations #special halloween party

29 notes · View notes

dxwnfxll · 2 years ago

Note

Heyy!! How are you?<3

I just found your blog and I'm so happy I did! So I decided to leave a request for some hc's of the main 4 eddsworld boys finding out the reader is a stoner? Like they'll just get into the house and see the reader faded af and just being extra chill abt everything??

If you don't do multiple character hc's, then the same premise but only for Tord. Thank you lovely :))

Hiya !! I'm doing swell ! Hope ya are to :) !!

And awesome HC idea totally gonna write it out

Hope ya enjoy it ! (And sorry for the wait i've been busy busy !!)

The eddsworld boys with a stoner reader

(gender neutral reader)

Tord

- So Tord is DEF a stoner, you can't tell me other wise. So when he casually arrives home one day a lil earlier than the others and finds reader faded as hell he just fucking laughs.

- He def gets high with reader, he has a collection of funny lil bongs including a anime girl one he spent a shit ton of money on.

- Reader got munchies? He's got ya, he's got his own lil munchie stash in his room.

- Readers first time getting high? He'll call you stupid but help you through it, make sure you don't freak tf out

- You and him probably sit on the couch looking like idiots laughing at the dumbest shit (probably a dumb commercial Tord keeps rewinding back over and over)

Edd

- I don't see Edd as a stoner but he's okay with the 'lifestyle', though when he came back after a cola run and found Reader staring at the ceiling snickering here and there he's very concerned

- " Did Tord give you something from his stash? TORD !! "

- When he figures out YOU are ALSO a stoner he's like " oh "

- He's kinda curious about what it's like sometimes, especially since he's been casually watching you/Tord getting high randomly and looking like y'all are having the time of your lives.

- Careful if you actually let him get high with you, He's gonna freak tf out and get some bad munchies

- If he never gets high with you though he just kinda keeps an eye on you to make sure you're okay

Matt

- He's not a stoner, doesn't even know what a stoner is. So when he comes home and smells something 'bad' in the air he thinks it's a damn fire

- Idk why he thought it was a fire he just did, he sees smoke coming under your door and grabs a bucket and before you even know it he's thrown water in your room...on you.

- He killed your vibe

- He does apologize though at least

Tom

- He used to be a stoner, he kinda stopped after he got into Smirnoff and didn't wanna be juggling both y'know?

- When he comes home and sees you on the couch he just holds in a lil laugh and goes " i know that face, someones tripping balls"

- He MAKES you give him a hit on the blunt/bong/whatever (or an edible if you prefer edibles)

- He's a pro at this shit so he's chilling, and hopefully you are too. But a few mins in he'll get up and grab some snacks for you two.

- He isn't a very giggly high when y'all two are high but he's more 'idiotic', he'll find random photos and think they're the funniest shit known to man kind. He's also very hungry and thirsty when he gets high

- Tord is NOT allowed during y'alls high time

- He takes big breaks when getting high, so if you're a stoner that does it daily or day after day he's not gonna smoke with ya every day. He smokes like maybe once or twice a week? It really depends

Bonus:

Eduardo

- He judges you, but when he sees how chill you are when high he decides to take a hit. He gets mad when he doesn't get high from one hit

- Excuse him he's a lil dumb, you tell him it takes more than one hit and he just grumbles before taking another hit

- Once he's high with you he just sits there, you probably gotta check on him to make sure he's okay

- After that time he gets high with you whenever he can, dude probably needs it tbh

Jon

- He doesn't really understand but he's cool with it ! :D

Mark

- Mark prefers to not be around whenever you get high, it's not that he hates you being a stoner he just isn't into smoking and all that. He does warn you about the bad stuff with smoking though womp womp

Paul

- Dude doesn't care, he probably finds you high in the barracks at the red army base. He probably sits with you and smokes his own cigarettes just chilling with you

- " everybody needs a break every now and then, just don't be high while your work yeah ? "

- If you ask for anything to help get you down from your high so you can work he'll usually help (if he's in a good mood)

Patryck

- Judging

- He doesn't like that you're high during work, doesn't like the smell and doesn't like how you act while high

- gets a lil annoyed if he has to help you walk around or anything

- def never getting high with you, but he's def had a contact buzz before

Yippe ! Hope you enjoyed sorry if it seemed rushed at all

388 notes · View notes

gothamite-rambler · 13 days ago

Text

Spoiler (Stephanie Brown) getting her first rogues gallery member... and it's flipping Kite-Man

Context: Stephanie Brown, known as Spoiler, has navigated the challenges of being a Gotham hero and a member of the Batfamily, facing death, heartbreak, and personal struggles that have defined her journey. Now, Kite Man wants to be her nemesis, dubbing it a rivalry.

As she juggles her responsibilities, the last thing she needs is a villain in a kite suit. This series will be ongoing, though updates will be irregular. Notes at the bottom for anyone curious why I'm making this a series :)

Spoiler Meets Kite-Man:

As Spoiler sang "Plastic Love," she takes on two thieves attempting to rob a teenage boy.

Spoiler: I'm just playing games, I know that's plastic love. Dance to the plastic beat. Another morning comes, I'm just playing games.

With a swift kick, Spoiler sent the last goon sprawling to the ground. She reached out to help the teenager who had fallen during the botched robbery, grateful to have witnessed the villains being taken down. He smiled in relief, but then noticed an irritating figure before Spoiler did. Kite-Man, on his way to commit a petty crime, abruptly stopped, impressed by the hero's singing.

Kite-Man: Dang, you sing really well!

Spoiler spotted him and grinned beneath her mask. As she flipped her hair back, her long blonde locks brushed against the teen's face, causing him to rub his eye in irritation.

Spoiler (with pride): Well, you see, I’m classically trained.

Kite-Man: In choir?

Spoiler (beaming): No, karaoke!

Kite-Man (sincerely): That’s awesome, it really shows!

Spoiler: Aw, thanks! By the way, aren’t you the kite guy?

Kite-Man (laughing): That’s right! Kite-Man’s the name, and I’m quite popular in Gotham.

The teenage boy standing next to Spoiler shook his head in disbelief at Kite-Man's ostentatious claims.

Spoiler: Okay, okay, you're not about to break the law tonight are you?

Kite-Man (lying): Just on a nightly stroll, not committing any crimes.

Spoiler: Huh, um, well you complimented my masterful singing skills... you can't be that bad. I’ll let you go this time. Consider yourself pardoned.

Kite-Man (smiling): Thanks! What’s your hero name?

Spoiler: Spoiler. Former Robin. Current girl boss.

The boy beside her rolled his eyes, genuinely perplexed that this was happening right in front of him.

Kite-Man: I like it! Thanks, Spoiler. See ya!

Spoiler waved as Kite-Man pressed a button his suit and flew away.

Spoiler (shaking her head with a chuckle): What a goofy guy.

Teen: He’s pretty dumb too, but aren’t you supposed to arrest him? He breaks the law all the time.

Spoiler (shrugging): Eh, he’s mostly harmless. I doubt I’ll be seeing him again.

Kite-Man’s Antics Continue

She was not correct about the not seeing him again. Over the next few weeks, Chuck—aka Kite-Man—continued his sporadic crime spree around Gotham.

Purse snatching

Stealing from stores and gas stations

Robbing the same three banks

Swiping prizes from an arcade because the ticket prices were “totally criminal.”

And while she agreed with that last part, Spoiler just couldn’t catch a break; she always ended up confronting him, no matter the time or the weather. It wasn’t just that she was encountering him; she was the only one actually arresting him. Here she was once more, stepping in during an active robbery at Bill’s Gold and Pawn, a place Stephanie thought of as a hub for taking advantage of others.

Spoiler: Don’t be him, don’t be him, don’t be him! Don’t be robbing this pawn shop—

Spoiler kicked the door to the shop open and rushed inside, spotting Kite-Man holding a sack for cash and aiming what was unmistakably a prop gun at the frustrated worker.

Spoiler (exhausted): God damn it- Oop!

She swiftly covered her mouth, mortified at her mistake.

Spoiler (frustrated): You just made me swear! Thanks a lot!

Kite-Man: Oh… sorry! How you been, Spoiler?

Spoiler: Not great; my ex-boyfriend stole my car and crashed it—why are you robbing a pawn shop?!

Kite-Man: These people rob customers! They’re selling an iPad for $250, which I bet someone traded for cash and only got half that back.

Worker (sheepishly): She… got a hundred dollars back.

Kite-Man shot a glance at Spoiler, as if he believed she completely grasped his reasoning. She somewhat did, but she wasn’t about to let him off the hook, especially since Batman had been suspicious of her for a while, given how consistently he managed to evade her.

Spoiler (annoyed): Kite-Man!

Kite-Man: Come on, I need the money!

Worker: You’re stealing Pokémon cards and cash, dude.

Kite-Man: Can’t a guy have hobbies?

Spoiler covered her eyes with a hand, perplexed by how she had ended up with this relentless crook on her hands. He wasn't a cool villain or even insane enough to fear for her. At this point, he was just an annoyance.

Spoiler: Why is this my life?

Oracle (over comms): Spoiler, don’t waste time; you need to arrest Kite-Man.

Spoiler (into her comm): Oracle, butt out of this!

Oracle (annoyed): Oh, well ex-freaking-scuse me. I’ll just stay quiet while you deal with your “friend.”

Spoiler: He’s not my friend! Oracle, focus on someone else!

Kite-Man (confused): Oracle?

Spoiler: Um, it’s Bluetooth with my… mom, who also happens to be psychic.

Regret washed over her as she realized her mistake in labeling her highly catholic mother as a psychic. At least she was there to hear it, but Kite-Man nodded understanding.

Kite-Man: My aunt was a psychic. She predicted her husband would die… she left out the part about her stabbing him to death. You know, Spoiler… we’re kind of in sync today.

Spoiler (stunned, whimpering): What?

Kite-Man turned his attention back to Spoiler with a grin.

Kite-Man: You’ve stopped my crimes more than any other hero in Gotham! You don’t mop the floor with me like Batman, Nightwing, or Red Hood. You even let me escape a few times!

Spoiler (frantically pressing her comm): That happened one time!

Oracle (scolding tone): Spoiler, be honest.

Spoiler: Okay, rule of threes! Three times, and I have reasons for all of them!

Oracle (with a mocking tone): I'll make sure Batman gets those reasons. I'm texting him as we speak. You can continue bantering with your friend.

Spoiler heard Oracle chuckling with amusement causing the hero to clench her fist in anger.

Spoiler (replacing all curse words): Son of—glip glop meep top slot pot! Dang it! Batman is going to chew me out!

Kite-Man: Oh my God, same dude! Hell yeah, we’re still in sync! This has got to mean something.

Spoiler's eyes widened as she processed where this conversation was heading.

Worker (joining in with a smile): Dude, she’s like your… rival. The one you battle with the most. Like if you're committing crimes, she shows up!

Kite-Man (excited): Yes! Joker and Batman, me and her, him or them- no judgment, I respect the pronouns you go by.

Spoiler (squeaky voice): Why are you respecting my possible pronouns? This is not happening!

Kite-Man (snapping his fingers and lowering his prop gun): I know this is crazy right, but that means I have my first rival who isn’t a six-foot-tall man in a bat costume! We’re rivals! And look at you—you’re young too, so thank you for making me your first rival. Hell yeah, high five!

Kite-Man held up a hand, waiting for a high five. The disinterested worker shrugged and slapped Kite-Man's hand as Spoiler seethed, her left eye twitching.

Spoiler: Okay, hold up—I’ll take the young compliment, thanks, but that’s not—this is not—

Spoiler's rant is interrupted by a cackle from Oracle, which quickly escalated into a laugh that seems to last forever. Spoiler groaned in frustration. She had to squash this before it became permanent then she would arrest Kite-Man and go about her day.

Spoiler (waving her hands to end the conversation): No, no, no! That’s not even the right word. You’d be my nemesis.

Oracle (between laughs): Oh yeah, give it a different word. That’ll fix it! I told you just to arrest him—nope, you just kept it going! Karma!

Spoiler (ignoring Oracle): “Nemesis” is the word if we were that, but we’re not!

Kite-Man (missing the point): Nah “rivals” sounds better and it works for us. We have good banter and you let me go that first time we met—

Spoiler (irate whispering): Would you stop saying that out loud?! Oracle, you did NOT hear that!

Oracle (gleefully): I already sent the text, girlfriend. You two continue your chat. I’m just enjoying my water.

Growing furious, Spoiler stormed over to Kite-Man and snatched the prop gun from him. She started punching him in the nose until he collapsed on the floor, groaning in pain.

Spoiler (to the worker): We’re not rivals—I mean, nemeses!

Worker: Kind of seems like you are.

Spoiler: Whatever! Your opinion means nothing, because you resell people’s valuables for outrageous prices after giving them a quarter of the value!

Kite-Man (weakly lifting a finger): That's what I’m saying! They’re the true villains!

Spoiler (dropping the fake gun onto Kite-Man's head): Shut the frack up!

After the chaos, she escorted Kite-Man out of the pawn shop and toward the Gotham police station. Just before the cops took him away, he cheerfully addressed one of the officers with some great news.

Kite-Man: Just keep an eye on her—she's my rival, and I'll see her again.

Spoiler: Stop manifesting this it's not happening! I'm not your rival or nemesis! I'm just the one who saves your sorry self more than any of the other fifty heroes in Gotham!

A drug dealer sitting in a nearby cell clutched the bars and chimed in, echoing the disbelief of everyone nearby.

Dealer: You just confirmed what he said, but you twisted the definition.

Jim Gordon (sitting at the front desk): Pretty much. He’s an idiot, but he’s not wrong—you're rivals.

Spoiler (yelling): We are not!

Oracle (laughing): Would you just leave? I'm about to pee myself, this is hilarious.

Spoiler pivoted on her heel and marched toward the door, but Kite-Man's next words stopped her in her tracks.

Kite-Man: Sorry about your crappy boyfriend stealing your car, Spoiler. Crazy exes are the worst; I totally get it.

Dealer: Oh yeah, he’s definitely your rival.

Spoiler refused to continue the conversation and walked out of the precinct grumbling under her breath.

Int. Stephanie Brown's apartment - Midafternoon

In her apartment, Stephanie sat across from her mother, Crystal Brown, as they talked about Kite-Man. Crystal, an Irish immigrant who moved to America in her twenties, had been married to Clue Master for a time before thankfully leaving him.

She struggled with a prescription pill addiction for a while, which strained her relationship with Stephanie, but she'd since recovered and found faith. A small silver cross necklace hung around her neck at all times. Today, even though, Stephanie wasn't in the mood for her mother’s often annoying religious musings, she needed to vent to someone free for the day after Bruce had scolded her for letting Kite-Man escape three times and throwing a fit at the police station.

Stephanie: I can’t stand him! He'll be there with a goofy weapon or bungling and just when I think I can handle it, he starts talking. He sounds like a total douche from California!

Crystal: Sort of like that one man ya dated in college?

Stephanie nodded, burying her head in her hands.

Stephanie: He is so annoying! His whole schtick is wearing a kite suit! Not flying a kite, which would actually be cool—his suit is the kite, and somehow he knows how to fly it!

Crystal (placing a hand on her chest): My word, I thought your father had a stupid schtick.

Stephanie: Right?! I was so frazzled during that pawn shop robbery that I lied and said Oracle was you, and that you were a psychic! I even cursed!

Crystal (bothered by one detail): All right, I can understand the cursin' with a man like that—I was married to Clue Master after all—but don’t drag me into ya lil charade as a charlatan. I’m many things, but I’m not into mysticism. God knows all, not me—

Stephanie groaned, having expected her mother missing the point.

Stephanie: Ma, focus! He keeps saying I’m his rival, which is totally not the right term, but at the same time, he’s not wrong. He’s messing with me, and I can’t shake him off! Bruce is already mad that I let him get away! How was I supposed to know he’d rob all those places right after?

Crystal: Aye, well, first off, Arthur has met this Kite-Man and said he was a goofy nuisance in prison but considers himself the best bad guy in Gotham… so there’s that. And as much as it pains me to say it, Bruce was right it wasn’t smart to let him go.

Stephanie (monotone): I don’t know what scares me more: that you’re agreeing with Bruce or that now I find myself agreeing with Arthur. Oh God, he’s making me see eye to eye with my father!

Crystal: You won’t like this next part then… from the way you’ve been describing him, I hate to say it, sweetie, but he’s—

Stephanie (covering her eyes): Don't say it.

Crystal placed a supportive hand over her daughter’s.

Crystal: I'm sorry, love, but he's your nemesis - or the rival thing.

Stephanie whimpered, lowering her head in shame. Her mother patted her hand with a plaintive smile. She just wanted this day to end, but with Kite-Man potentially joining her rogue gallery, it seemed this wouldn’t be the last time they crossed paths, nor would it be the last time she’d have to arrest him or let him go.

A/N: I chose to write this because I love the trope of bumbling villains who mistakenly thinks they’re a hero’s main adversary. Kite Man believes he’s Spoiler’s (Stephanie) ‘rival’—a word I used when I forgot the word 'nemesis.' Although Spoiler doesn’t like him, he sees her as a cool hero who doesn't beat him up as badly as Batman has. This dynamic is reminiscent of the Flash’s interactions with his villains. It's inspired by jokes from Kite Man, Hell Yeah!

26 notes · View notes