#n and v did have a sweet little thing back in the mansion. but they aren't those drones anymore | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

melodygatesauthor · 1 year ago

Text

The Dark Side of the Moon - Chapter 9: Betrayed

Vampire Marc Spector X f!Reader

Beta Read by @xbellaxcarolinax - Masterlist - AO3

A/N: I've finished writing this series! I'll be posting the final 3 chapters every Sunday for the next 3 weeks!

Chapter Summary

You and Marc are running out of time. You need to come up with a plan...and fast.

Tags/Warnings (for entire fic)

Major Tags/Warnings Major Character Death - Non-con - Dub-con - Violence Minor Tags/Warnings NSFW, smut, Khonshu is human turned vampire, Ammit is human turned vampire, sex with characters other than the main pairing (Marc X f!Unnamed Character - Khonshu X f!Reader), p in v creampie, furniture grinding, scent kink, blood kink, vampire/human relationship, blood drinking, rough sex, oral sex, coming untouched, coming in pants, panty sniffing, angst, fluff, smut, forbidden relationship, secret relationship, possessiveness, obsessiveness, Marc does NOT have DID Dead Dove Do Not Eat - This means that what you see in the tags is what you get in the fic. If you read the tags and see "non-con" and then see non-con in the fic, don't be surprised!

Word Count: 1.6k

You smelled different since Marc had been with you just the other night, and he felt more drawn to you than ever before.

Khonhsu must’ve noticed it as well. It was obvious with the change in his attention toward you, especially in front of Ammit. Marc observed the way he held onto your hip so tightly, fingers digging into your side a little more possessively than before. Your scent had changed from that sweet aroma to a warm musk, and Marc couldn’t describe the way it made him feel.

Protective? Possessive? As if he would - without hesitation - tear the limbs off of anyone who thought of harming you even the slightest? It’s not like he didn’t feel this way about you before, but something was different now. He felt a deeper…connection.

Something else had changed. Marc could see Khonshu paying more attention to him, which made his stomach turn. Did he know? Was he biding his time, toying with Marc until they got back to the mansion? Would he stick Marc in the thirst room until you were dead and he’d never see you again? It was as if all the wind had been punched out of his lungs when he thought about that. Your mortality was always on the back of his mind, but he’d never really considered living without you.

He couldn’t fucking live without you.

“Marc!” Khonshu snapped, forcing Marc to jump out of his thoughts and give all his attention to his master. “Out.”

The word was final, strong, and non-negotiable. Without any sort of acknowledgement, Marc left the lounge, which Khonshu had been using as a makeshift meeting room for his own household while on Ammit’s property. In his quarters, Marc stewed, an anxious poison bubbling in his gut at the thought of what may happen if his fears were justified. What if Khonshu knew about what he’d done with you, and what if, as a result, that night was the last chance he would ever have to save you both?

It wasn’t a matter of if, anymore, it was a matter of when he could sneak off to your room and a matter of how hard it would be to convince you that the two of you needed to get out of there immediately. There were several obstacles, but he thought he could figure them out with your help. The only thing that was for certain was the fact that you both needed to leave as soon as possible.

Marc had expected it would be a little more difficult this time around while trying to get to you, now that Khonshu was certainly suspicious of him, but to his surprise, he had no resistance getting to you at all. He wondered if everyone was busy in preparation for the return home tomorrow. You were awake, jumping out of your bed the moment he climbed in through the window. In a mad rush, you both collided, lips and tongues melting into one another through a series of moans.

“I have to–” kiss “talk to you,” you moaned, breathing heavily in between each peck.

“Me too,” he rasped, pushing you against the wall roughly. “You smell different,” he growled into your neck.

“I know,” you whispered.

Marc hoped you didn’t feel the urgency in his shaking hands while he pulled his pants down to his thighs. You held onto him tight as he lifted you effortlessly, slowly lowering your body down around his dick. You’d neglected your panties. He wondered if you were expecting him to come to you one more time before you both had to leave Ammit’s home.

You both exhaled out into the room as your bodies connected. Marc’s thrusting was ragged, and he knew it. He was desperate for you, he could feel it in every nerve ending, this intoxicating need to have you. This new scent of yours was driving him mad, and he couldn’t understand why.

“You have to bite me,” he muttered between thrusts, “and do it hard.”

You looked at him, brow furrowed in confusion. He’d forgotten that you didn’t know much about his kind, other than their need for blood and the fact that they could live forever. Khonshu was careful about how much he told you and the other livestock in an effort to keep you ignorant and obedient.

“Khonshu is suspicious,” he breathed, “I don’t want to turn you but–”

Marc was cut off by the sharp pain of you biting hard into the side of his neck. He groaned as he felt the skin break. It wasn’t often that Marc felt pain, he liked it though, particularly while his cock was buried deep in your warm cunt. He sighed out a moan, completely engulfed in a feeling of pure pleasure while you drank from him. His hips started rolling harder, as if they moved on their own, basking in the feeling of the agony and ecstasy melting as one.

“Mm, yeah honey, just like that,” he cooed, kissing the side of your neck and trying to keep himself from tearing into your skin as well.

He could tell you liked the taste based solely on the fact that you were moaning more than usual while you licked at his skin. You shuddered, walls clenching around him as he pushed deeper, fucking into you harder.

“M-Marc, oh-my…”

Your breath caught in your throat and you tilted your head back to rest against the wall while he moved even faster. His orgasm came rushing through his body, hips stuttering until they were flush against yours, cock throbbing and spilling into your gushing cunt. You moaned so loudly Marc thought you might get caught so he clamped his palm down over your bloody lips.

It took several moments of holding you there before you both had calmed down enough for him to lower you to the ground. You wiped your lips and stared at him wide-eyed as if you couldn’t believe what had just transpired.

“God, I didn’t mean to bite you so hard, I’m sorry,” you said, reaching out to touch where you’d bitten his neck.

He chuckled, “don’t worry, I heal pretty quick.” He touched the wound. “Besides, we can call it payback for all the times I’ve tried to sink my teeth into you.” Marc pulled his pants back up around his hips. “How are you feeling?”

He tilted your head this way and that, looking for any indication of change. He didn’t understand. Your pupils weren’t dilated as he’d expected them to be, and you didn’t feel feverish to the touch. Turning a human didn’t take long, at least not from what he recalled.

“I don’t feel different,” you said, a hint of worry in your voice.

“Of course you don’t, little dove.”

Khonshu appeared, like a villain in a movie, sliding in through your bedroom window and striding over to Marc. He grabbed Marc by the throat before he even had a chance to react, holding him high while keeping his eyes locked on yours. Marc held onto Khonshu’s forearm, choking and gasping, trying desperately to keep himself from losing consciousness.

“Sir, please!” You yelled, louder than Marc had ever thought your voice could go.

Khonshu dropped Marc on the floor, leaving him gasping and struggling to catch his breath. Marc could see you backing up into the corner in terror but knew it would get much worse for you both if he tried to stop Khonshu. It was obvious he valued you above any other cattle and wouldn’t kill you, but Marc didn’t doubt Khonshu’s ability to make the rest of your life a living hell if he chose to.

Marc watched as Khonshu grabbed your arm roughly and forced you to the bed, bending you over the mattress. You were brave, Marc noted, hardly making a sound above a quiet whimper while Khonshu pulled your dress aside and stuck two of his thick fingers into your cunt, still slick from before.

“Just as I thought,” he spat through clenched teeth, pulling out his fingers only to reveal Marc’s cum dripping from them. “Marc,” he said as though scolding a child, “to think that my own knight would betray me so. I saved you, Marc Spector, or did you forget?!”

You turned over now, scrambling to put some distance between yourself and Khonshu.

“I didn’t forget,” Marc managed to say as he fought to control his breathing. “But you can’t keep her in a cage like an animal, you can’t keep tricking innocent people into your bullshit cult.”

Khonshu sniffed out a laugh, “and why is that, Marc? Hm? Is it because she smells so good that you’ve changed your attitude toward the cattle trade? Because until I brought her home you didn’t seem to take issue with a free food supply.” He stormed over to Marc.

Marc kept looking to you for a change in your appearance, even the slightest shift in your posture, but nothing changed. You still looked the same as you did on the day he first saw you.

“Why didn’t it work?” Marc asked coldly, looking up at Khonshu from where he still knelt on the floor.

“I know you’re young, Marc, but you’re not a fool.” Khonshu walked over to Marc and grabbed the collar of his jacket. The door to your room burst open to allow several of Khonshu’s guards in. Before they whisked Marc away, Khonshu leaned in to whisper in his ear, “you know our blood only works on humans.”

Moon Knight Masterlist

Main Masterlist

76 notes · View notes

rory-multifandom-mess · 7 months ago

Note

Okay, for real this time. 11 and 16 with V and N.

OOOH THESE ARE SOME GOOD ONES! Ok ok we got some eNVy! Bet!

11. "I thought you didn't want me" and 16. "Why haven't you kissed me yet?"

Genre: Hurt/No comfort

Oooh, boy, this is awkward. Really, really awkward. Of course, that purple thing had to be nosy all over again. Of course, she had to tap into their memories again, because screw their privacy, right?

V had done everything to make sure her stupid memories of that stupid mansion stayed repressed and forgotten about, especially for N, but no, she just had to dig them all up.

There they were, hanging out at Uzi's place, chilling while she played on her stupid computer, N read his stupid books and V had been bouncing a stupid ball off the wall. They were just talking, like normal people, laughing at each other and poking fun at stupid things.

Eventually, N had fallen asleep. And V tried her hardest to stay awake.

She failed and entered sleep mode.

At first, she thought she was dreaming about the mansion again, a repeat of all of the horrors and terrible things she had seen that day, and the monster Cyn had forced her to become.

But then she saw that damned crow again, sitting on N's shoulder like she was all high and mighty. V knew who it was as soon as she saw it, but she couldn't wake up. She couldn't get herself to wake up like she did last time, and then Uzi went on and uncovered her feelings for N and spied on her and now N knew and V finally got herself to wake up and-

The moment V had woken up, she sat up on Uzi's bed, where she had fallen asleep. N woke up at the same time, quickly sitting up, and immediately turned his head to look at V.

Their eyes locked, both of them blushing.

Then Uzi turned in her chair to look at the both of them, their eyes wide.

"Uh... Whoops?" She muttered.

V shot a glare at Uzi, gritting her teeth. Oh, how she wanted to lunge at her and pop her little head off. She wanted to rip her apart and kill her and destroy and maim and-

No. She couldn't. What would N think? What would he think of her after that? Uzi is his best friend. His only friend.

V shook her head, and instead of even threatening her, she fled, her wings bursting from her back as she took to the sky, breaking a hole in the ceiling of Uzi's room.

She heard N shout; "V, wait!" but it was too late. She was gone.

V flew as fast as she could to get away from them, her core beating and her mind racing. She flew straight to the sky, quickly breaking through the clouds and into the silence of the atmosphere. She found a rooftop above the clouds and almost crash-landed there, rolling on the ground.

She stood there for a moment, glaring at the ground, her hands balled into fists and her arms shaking with rage at her sides, her tail lashing around like an angry cat. She was furious.

She let out an angry yell and turned, punching the side of the roof. It cracked around her fist, pieces of it flying off from the sheer strength and force behind the strike.

She breathed heavily, stormed towards the edge of the roof, and sat down, putting herself in a ball.

The worst part was that she still had a crush on N. The biggest, stupidest crush ever. And she hated him for it. She hated him for being so cute and loveable and everything she ever dreamed about. She hated how sweet and kind he was despite being built for slaughter.

She hated that he never changed since the mansion. He hated that she had changed so much.

She hated that she knew he had a crush on her too.

But she had to stay away for his safety. She had to pretend she hated him for his safety, so Cyn wouldn't rip him away from her again, so he could live and be happy forever.

So she wouldn't have to hear his horrified screams as he was torn apart and ripped in half. So she wouldn't have to hear his pleas for her to do something and save him.

She tensed at the memories, gripping her sleeves righter and shoving her face into her knees.

Suddenly, she heard someone land behind her.

"V...?" Asked the familiar voice.

It was N.

"Leave me alone," She said, trying to be assertive. Her voice cracked. She cringed. Damnit.

N didn't say anything. He walked up next to her and leaned against the ledge, next to where she was sitting on top of it.

Silence befell the two of them. Uncomfortable, tense silence. Neither knew what to say. V didn't want to say anything. She wanted nothing but to disappear.

"...Uh... The... The breeze is nice, right?" N asked, smiling nervously.

V paused. She was about to snap at him, but... Something told her otherwise. She sighed and lifted her head, looking out at the night sky, the clouds moving across the sky beneath them. The bright moons shined above them, illuminating their faces and the rooftop and the fluffiness of the clouds.

"Yeah," She said flatly.

A beat passed.

"So, um. That was one memory, huh?" N said again, awkward as ever.

V didn't respond.

"Listen, I'm sorry about Uzi. She- She just gets curious."

"Curious? Curious?!" V shouted, turning to him, her face full of fury, "She probed our minds, N! Don't make excuses for her!"

N put his hands up, startled.

"Wh-why are you getting so riled up about this, V? I-I thought you wouldn't have cared-"

"Because I do care, N!" Digital tears formed in her eyes as she stood up on the ledge, glaring down at him.

He looked up at her, surprised. A bead of sweat rolled down his display.

She opened her mouth to say more but stopped herself.

If I say any more, it'll kill him.

She searched his face for a reaction, then huffed, turning away, her wings flaring out of her back.

"V, wait!-" He said, jumping up on the ledge as well and grabbing her arm, "Please don't go."

She froze, tensing up. Her core ached her urge to hug him stronger than ever. He's said that to her before, It was all too familiar.

She decided to humor him, turning slightly towards him.

Cyn can suck my shiny metal ass.

"I... I didn't know you wanted me," N admitted sheepishly.

V stared into the middle distance, her mind racing.

"I've wanted you since the mansion," V said under her breath, quiet and hushed, almost embarrassed to admit it.

"Then, um... Why haven't you-- Y'know..."

"Why haven't I kissed you?" She finished for him, turning to look at his face.

He nodded eagerly, nervous.

"It's complicated, N. I- I can't tell you. It's for your own safety."

N frowned.

"It's always for my safety. Why can't it be for something else? Why can't I know what you know?"

V didn't answer. She sat back down in her ball, hiding her face in her knees and curling her tail around her legs.

"Why can't I know?" N echoed, jumping down and leaning against the ledge again.

V didn't answer.

N sighed.

He lingered for a moment longer.

Then he left without a word.

V looked up at the sky, tears falling from her eyes.

"Why do you hate me?" She asked no one in particular. Maybe she was talking to God. Maybe she was talking to the Devil himself.

"Why do you hate me?" She sobbed again, her wings appearing from her back and wrapping around herself.

This was not as fluffy as it should've been. Whoops

~~~~~~~

Prompt Post! Lizzy x Doll; "Stay with me forever"/"Because I love you!" N x V; "I thought you didn't want me"/"Why haven't you kissed me yet?" <- You are here! V x Thad; "I'm in love with you" V x Thad "I missed you so much"/"I can't stay away from you" N x Thad; "Can I kiss you?" N x Thad; "I want you. Only you." V x Thad; "I thought you didn't want me." Sam x Uzi; "The way I feel with you"/"I can't stay away from you." Uzi x Thad; "Please don't leave me"/"I'll always love you" N x Thad; "Please marry me"/"Why haven't you kissed me yet?" N x Uzi; "You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen"/"I'm better when I'm with you" J x Thad; "Please don't leave me"/"I'm better when I'm with you."

#whoops #my writing #writers on tumblr #murder drones #sappyprompts #except it wasnt very sappy #serial designation n #serial designation v #n murder drones #v murder drones #n #v #eNVy #implied

15 notes · View notes

swrawberrysvuccvbvs · 2 years ago

Text

V x Fem shy bubbly MD reader :D

this is before and after the second episode when the prom one happens I'll make a second part to this. {and maybe I'll add Uzi for fun who knows;3} Edit: I'm gonna make N another post due to how long this one is sorry to those waiting for a post about our lovable boy!

Ep 1

: She didn't really care for you at first barely noticed you were there most the time

: Until it came to a certain search you , her , and J went to look for some worker drones to feed on and saw you in motion.

: She can't deny she blushed a little ;3

: Once you noticed here staring your shyness kicked in you just went back to base after

{: Yes you and N have a little very very secret fan club For V }

: Tho another time when N came along and repeat of last time he did get a little jealous

: And after that you and V started to hang out more you and her started becoming closer

: Couple months later you two become a thing and everyone is confused especially J

: I mean her beside killers IS DATING THAT!?

: Once N found out about you two being together after that he was a little sad but was supportive!

: Her and V argue about it a lot and your shyness does not help especially with yelling it scares you quite a lot

: sometimes it even brings you to tears and V will drop it immediately and go to you in a protective manor.

: The day Uzi came was a huge change for you I mean that gun could have KILLED YOUR BEST FRIEND

: When N followed Uzi to make up for what happened you kinda just clung onto him during it until V and J went in the vents you weren't to bloodthirsty yet so you just stuck to N

:you and N stuck with Uzi you were on temporary shut down cause Uzi kinda hit you pretty hard upside the head with her gun( you got hungry and tried to go after her)

: When you woke up Uzi was working on N to who now has a virus thanks to J she "kindly" informed you of and you weren't too happy about it so you decide to go after them through the vents and you know what happens big fight J gets her head shot V gets tied up and your noise bleeding seeing her fight you know the whole sha-bang ( do they even have noses....well they do now!)

Ep 2 ( do know I have forgotten a little of ep 2 so bare with me once i watch it again I'll fix this)

: You two are usually cuddling in her chair while she either rants about balloon animals, killing workers, Or blowing bubbles!

: the day Uzi came in and ranted you got a little I don't wanna say scared but maybe a little {plus every time she says bite me you kinda actually kinda want to bite her for some reason?}

: Uzi had said some pretty weird stuff was happening at the door place or well her home she was apparently exiled from due to the previous situation.

: You kinda just hung on N's back on the way there while you both ranted about things you found like how you found a old store full of cool stuff but that's a story for later~

: When you all got in there you purely went off because of the smell of that sweet succulent oil~

: Uzi and N got a little concerned due to you giggling but we won't talk about that!

: I'm pretty sure we all know the story from the You and N get flashbacks to some mansion

:The whole eldritch J situation

: The amount of concern on V's face when you came back was a little overwhelming.

: But she knows you can handle yourself!

: HELL that's one of the reasons she fell for you not just your happy attitude that only her and N get to see { Uzi hasn't got to that level yet} She found it so cute and endearing that she got close and fell into that lovely pit known as you~

Finding the store

: You and her were scouting around one day just being yourselves and you spotted something abnormal to the area so you both went to check it out for fun

:Ounce you got there you wiped off some snow from what looked to be a sign it said " Spencers? you said in a questioning tone Idk I guess that's what it says V shrugged and broke the glass doors so you both could get inside.

: when you both got in you were indulged with excitement why you may ask it's where humans used to shop! How do you know? Frozen bodies in the store

:You both walked around for a little and after a while you got to the back and saw some " things"

: when you did you both just moved back to the front of the store

: And you both cuddled and talked about random stuff

:after a little you both looked around again and guess what you found.....!

: CANDY! and ya'll had spare oil from ya'lls scout made that even better!

I did it. Three days and it's finally done. I really hope ya'll enjoy this i worked hard on this I hope ya'll enjoy this as much as i did making it!

and again HAPPY VALENTINES DAY EVERYONE!

and real quick whoever made this please be my friend this is so cute :D

Last update: So I deleted The nsfw part sorry for the people who liked it but i just didn't like it

#V my beloved #murder drones #were all simps lol

4 notes · View notes

cavillscurls · 1 year ago

Text

DIVINE DYNASTY | CHAPTER THREE ; MOVEMENT

When Joel discovers you after fleeing the estate, you are both forced to face the truth of what you’ve done.

Warnings/tags: MDNI. Foul language. Alcohol consumption. Age gap (Reader is 25, Joel is 40). Verbal arguments. Depictions of grief and anxiety. Discussions of death and murder. Angst. Fluff. Explicit smut. Unbearable intimacy. Pet names. Oral (f receiving). Dacryphilia. Sub!Joel energy if you squint real hard, quickly followed by soft!dom Joel. Begging. Religious allusions. Unprotected p in v. Cream pie…that doesn’t get cleaned up(?). Reader is shorter than Joel. No other physical descriptions. wc: 6k

A/N: the most massive shoutout to @kiwisbell for aiding me through this chapter and beta’ing. seriously so grateful to have met you and create with you. this has been a long time coming. merry christmas. enjoy. 🖤

PREVIOUS CHAPTER. | SERIES MASTERLIST.

❝ When you move,

I can recall somethin’ that’s gone from me.

When you move,

Honey, I’m put in awe of somethin’ so flawed and free. ❞

— Movement, Hozier.

When you first show up at Meg’s door late that fateful evening, she welcomes you with open arms. It is rare to keep such a close acquaintance with a friend from high school, but even in your distance from each other over the years, she’s maintained an adoration and respect for you that almost feels undeserving.

You sit impatiently on her couch in her quaint apartment, the residential street aiding in the quiet of the night. You try to focus on anything other than what you have done while she shuffles about the kitchen, grabbing two wine glasses and a bottle of red before joining you. You thank her softly when she hands you the glass, taking an eager sip. With a deep sigh, you lay your head back against the backrest of the couch.

“Are you okay?” Meg asks rather defeatedly, and when you look over at her, legs tucked underneath herself and wide eyes surveying you, you both know it’s a ridiculous question.

What else is she to say? Meg does not know the details of your father's line of work, but she certainly knows enough. Deducing her speculations didn’t take long, but she never pressed you for answers to the plethora of questions. You’re thankful for that in many ways, the present predicament a perfect example of how valuable her indiscretion is to not only her safety but your friendship.

“I just needed to get away from there, even if it’s for a fucking minute,” you sigh, grateful that you even have another place to go. Another place that accepts you, regardless of your faults and your self-appointed inability to provide for anyone else around you. You wonder if Joel will be as forgiving as Meg, someone you had made no effort to contact since your father's passing, and yet, here she is. Waiting with open arms to take care of you.

You wonder if the day will ever come when you feel like you can take care of yourself again.

“Well,” Meg starts, reaching for the remote on the coffee table. “I don’t have a glorious four-story mansion, but I do have cheap wine, popcorn, and shitty rom-coms for us to watch.” She eyes you cheekily from her peripheral, and you laugh softly, admiring her ability to turn even the darkest of moments into some beacon of light, never pressing, always assuring.

“How did you even get all the way over here?” she inquiries after a moment.

“I… took the Porsche.”

She nearly spits out her wine. “You stole his car?”

“Borrowed,” you clarify, rolling your eyes. “And please, he’s got a garage full. This one won’t be missed.”

Meg shakes her head, laughing in subtle disbelief. “You are one ballsy bitch,” she says, a hint of pride peeking through. “Don’t you think he has those things totally rigged out in trackers and shit, though?” she asks.

“Oh, I know he does,” you answer, taking another healthy swig of wine. “And I’m sure when he’s clever enough to check them, I’ll have sufficiently pissed him off.” You give her a sickly sweet smile, which suggests little remorse while still harboring some regret. You really are your father's daughter.

And as Meg begins to queue up her choice of film, you silently dread sitting with your thoughts. Wondering if it was worth it. Wondering just how ballsy you really are.

You both fall asleep on the couch.

There is a comforting nostalgia in Meg’s presence. The hours you spend with her that evening, talking about anything and everything, lift an unbearable weight off your shoulders. One you did not even realize you had been harboring. Cathartic and almost childlike, your evening had been much needed. The slumber that follows is just as essential. It is possible, perhaps, that in the months of grief, you had lost pieces of yourself. Pieces that not even Joel could put back together.

Meg had helped those pieces return. And for the first time in a long time, you felt a sense of self you thought was forgotten.

Nonetheless, your peace is short-lived.

Pounding on the door is what wakes you both, staccato and rough. Meg shoots up first, legs tangled with yours under the much-too-small blanket you both had been hogging.

She looks around blearily while you gather your bearings, noticing the kitchen clock read 4:26 AM. The second round of hard knocks stands you both up and alert. Your heads shoot towards the front door that vibrates under every pulse, and Meg yawns loudly, seemingly unfazed by the disruption. As if she had been expecting it.

“Gee, I wonder who that could fucking be,” she grumbles sarcastically, clambering off the couch where you realize you have about ten seconds to prepare yourself to face the consequences of your actions.

“Wait!” you call to Meg whose hand freezes on top of the door handle, shooting you a quizzical look. You stand up quickly as if to brace yourself. You run your hands over your hair, smoothing it, and readjusting the clothes you had thrown on before leaving; as if that would do much to sort out the less-than-flattering sweats.

You’re stalling. Heart practically punching out of your chest at the thought of who could be standing beyond the door. You know the longer you keep him waiting, the more trouble you will cause for yourself.

Sighing heavily, you give Meg a brief nod. She waits a beat, then unlocks the door and pulls it open.

Sure enough, Joel’s figure looms in the doorframe.

And dear god, does he look pissed.

You watch his shoulders fall in momentary relief when he sees you. A confirmation that his efforts of searching paid off. That he hasn’t failed in keeping you safe.

At least one promise was kept.

Meg looks between the two of you, her eyes wide, assessing the tension so palpable that your palms are practically sweating, aching to tear through it. Your brain is screaming at you to speak, but your throat is bone dry. Even if you could, you aren’t sure what you would say. A plethora of words come to mind, some considerably expletive in comparison to others, but Joel beats you to it.

“Get in the goddamn car,” he all but growls, and as much as you want to quip back at him, you know it’s useless. Wordlessly, you gather your belongings into the bag you packed, slinging it over your shoulder.

Meg taps her fingers against the doorframe. “So…does this mean I get to keep the Porsche, or–?” she taunts as you approach the door. Joel slants his dagger eyes at her, unamused. She bites at the inside of her lip to keep from smiling but sorts herself out when she catches your eyes, pleading with her to not make the situation worse than it already is with her antics.

Meg sighs, giving Joel one last glance before she reaches her arms to wrap around your shoulders. You accept the embrace, although too frozen to return it.

“Call me if you need anything,” she mutters into your hair, and you nod. You are grateful that the offer stands, though you know you won’t be using it. At least, not tonight. Meg likely knows it, too. Because even amidst the uncomfortable atmosphere, there is one thing you are both certain of, confident enough that she is willing to let you walk out of that door.

No matter how angry he may be, Joel would never hurt you.

You whisper a goodbye to her before stepping out through the doorway where Joel moves to let you go first. He is silent as you both make your descent down the stairwell. Silent as you shuffle into the backseat of the awaiting SUV, he in the passenger seat beside his driver who makes no effort to spark up a conversation. Silent for the entirety of the drive, where you are practically vibrating with anxiety. Ironically, you can almost hear the way he fumes, sizzling with a fury real and raw.

You wonder what he will say to you. What you will say to him. You do not have nearly enough time to process the situation before you pull into the familiar driveway of the dimly lit estate. Everyone else’s lives are seemingly untouched by your reckless abandonment.

You do not wait for him to speak, or even move, before taking it upon yourself to swing the door open and strut towards the front steps. You hear his door open and slam shut behind you, echoing through the early morning sky. It is followed by booted footsteps that linger a few paces away as you head towards the front doors, still close behind through the foyer, up the stairs, to the top floor. You wonder if he anticipates you turning right, towards his bedroom. But you veer left, taking ample steps towards the guest room where you had dwelled for the past two weeks.

Alone. Without any knowledge of his whereabouts.

The memories of your anguish all come hurtling back in, flooding your veins with a similar rage to the man behind you. You burst through the guest room door, letting it hit the wall as it flings open, tossing the poorly packed bag to the corner of the room in a fit. Your breath comes quick, ragged. A culmination of anticipation and anger. And before you even have the chance to turn around, his footsteps come to a halt within the bedroom, the sound of the door slamming shut startling you.

“What the fuck were you thinking?”

There he is.

He finds his voice, low and on edge, much quicker in the privacy of his own home. You only ever hear it like this through closed doors, usually a reprimanding to one of his men due to an overlooked detail, or when he’s just received undesirable news and must plan for the unintended. You take a deep breath, clenching your hands into fists before spinning around to face him. Up close now, you can see the throbbing bruise still lingering around his eye. The gash in his lip, while present, seems to have healed over during the night. He’s glaring at you, positively peeved, and you are certain your countenance shines similarly.

“Not sure why you care so much, seeing as you want nothing to do with me,” you snap. His eyes go wide and his nostrils flare; he’s not used to being tested.

Joel shakes his head, breathing out a humorless laugh. “Now darlin’, I know you’re not so naive to think that our conversation last night implied you could just take off on your own,” he grits, patience running thin. “You are my responsibility, do you understand that?”

You scoff, throwing your hands up reflexively. How foolish and pompous he must be to play the savior card.

“I didn’t ask to be!” you retort, shaking your head in an equal amount of disbelief. “You decided that all on your own, just like everything else!” You don’t mean for the last bit to slip out, but it does. Pure, unadulterated frustration taking the reins of your self-control.

“The hell is that supposed to mean?” He takes another step forward, closer. Decreasing the space that acts as a barrier for heightened emotions.

“It means you’re a fucking hypocrite!” you shout, startled by your voice and the way it reverberates off the walls. His eyes grow wider, but you cannot bring yourself to care how erratic you seem.

“You want to protect me?” you continue, taking your own heated step forward. “You want to take care of me? Want me to be your responsibility? But then your feelings get involved, and what? Suddenly all of that is too hard for you?”

You’re pressing salt into fresh wounds, accusations reminding you of his sudden disdain for you. Where it originated, and how it formed in such a short time. You can’t make sense of it, and yet, it appears that he has found all the clarity he needs.

“Would you look around you?!” he suddenly booms, following on the heels of your words and waving his hands in the open space between you. There is a direness to his voice now; strained, nearly inconsolable. “Look at the life I live! I’m a walkin’ target, darlin’, and I ain’t gonna make you one too.”

You scoff incredulously. “You don’t get to decide who I care about, Joel! How much I care about you! How much I want you!”

A silence is cast over the room. The declaration clings to it, begging to be heard, acknowledged. Reciprocated. You wonder if he can see the pleading in your eyes, flitting over his frozen expression in search of any semblance of reassurance.

“Fuck…” you whimper, the rock in the back of your throat lodging taut. The emotion is inescapable now; even as you attempt to run your hands over your eyes to soothe the impending tears, they fill up at your waterline. “You — you are all I’ve ever wanted.”

Grief comes in various forms. You realized that last night when Joel’s feeble attempt at protection registered as rejection. The thought of losing him, even if it is for your own good, even if he is still within arm’s reach, saving little pieces of you along the way by keeping himself distant, you simply cannot bear it. Surely, years of loss would crumble under the weight of it. The one part of yourself you’re too selfish to let go of.

He’s speechless, eyeing you carefully. He looks pained, an unspoken torment storming in his eyes. You want more than anything to reach out for him, coax him into you with the promise that you could keep him safe, too. Mind and body, heart and soul, all protected in the palms of your hands if he would just allow you.

You realize that, at the very least, you have him listening. Something to be taken advantage of.

“And up until yesterday, I thought you—'' You try to form the words coherently, but they hitch in your throat. Lips beginning to tremble, the tears that you fought valiantly to subside betray you and spill down your cheeks. “But I… I guess I thought wrong.”

“No.” He’s moving now, striding towards you hurriedly while he shakes his head. You think maybe you should move when he reaches for you, but your body craves his touch more than your mind cares to deny it, craning your head back to peer watery eyes up at him when he cradles your cheeks between his hands.

There’s a beat of silence while he looks at you as if he is wrestling against his thoughts. “I can’t—I can’t imagine not wantin’ you,” he whispers in admission, brows pulled in focus.

Relief floods your veins like morphine, reducing the agony to a dull nuisance. “Then don’t,” you whisper back, tentatively reaching a hand out to place on his chest. Trust me, you want to tell him. Allow him to fall into you, accept the things he feels, and know you feel them too, regardless of the risk.

You feel the way his body stiffens, fingers trembling against your face. You wish you could reach inside his mind and pluck the thoughts right out of his head, attempt to lessen the pain of making himself vulnerable.

You wonder if he wishes the same for you.

“I’m not… I’m not a good man,” he murmurs, anguished eyes displaying his internal struggle.

You consider what he says for a moment and all its underlying conditions: I’m not a good man, look at what I do. I’m not a good man, there is constant danger everywhere I go. I’m not a good man, there’s death all around me.

I’m not a good man, I’ve killed people with my own hands.

The same hands that hold you now, and yet, they touch you as if you are the most delicate thing in the world.

You decide you don’t care what stipulations come with having him.

“I don’t need you to be a good man,” you tell him softly, the weight of tears still heavy in your eyes. “I just need you to be good to me.” You make sure he knows you mean it, stepping forward into his chest until the warmth of him wraps you in security. Still, you sense the trepidation. An uncertainty in his eyes.

“Your father…” he starts as if the reminder of him would somehow change your mind.

Your eyebrows shoot up. “My father,” you breathe out, almost humorously.

Is that what he’s worried about?

You shake your head, reaching your hands up to wrap around his wrists, keeping his on you steady. “My father trusted you more than any man alive, Joel,” you assert. “And so do I.”

Something seems to register for him then. A realization you had allowed yourself to acknowledge long ago, but only now seems to catch up to him. The words remain unspoken, but you can feel the gravity of them nonetheless. You know he does, too.

“Fuck,” he suddenly mutters, the final thread of restraint snapping as he touches his forehead to yours. Surrendering himself. “Fuck, m’sorry.”

His breath is so close, fanning over awaiting lips. The scent of him reignites something in you, a sense of assuredness returning.

A sense of hope.

“Forgive me,” he all but begs, and you think your knees may crumble if not for the way his hands cradle you.

He asks for your forgiveness. An opportunity to be better for you. To admit his wrongs. And you don’t think that there is another person in the world he would humble himself before the way he does for you now.

“Please,” he adds, voice soft and strained, and you’re ridden with tears all over again. Relief combats grief, adoration eradicates anger, and suddenly, you’re unafraid to give in.

You answer his plea wordlessly, lifting to your toes and seeking out his lips.

It’s frantic and long-awaited. He kisses you with everything he has, tangling his fingers in your hair, and searching for the taste of your tongue. Your hands fist at the collar of his shirt, working diligently to keep him close. Your body doesn’t need air to function. It only craves him to feel complete.

To feel whole again.

“Don’t you ever do that to me again, you hear me?” he grumbles in between breaths, stern but earnest. “Scared the hell outta me.”

You nod at him dutifully, wearing somber, promising eyes. You wouldn’t. Not ever again. How could you? Not when you have him like this.

The way you have always dreamed of having him.

This time when he fucks you, it’s not like the first. He strips you down while you’re still standing. Slowly. Piece by piece until you're bare before him, wide-eyed and waiting in anticipation while he takes a slow gaze over your body. Studying, admiring.

He sinks to his knees before you — a sight that almost buckles your own — searing kisses onto the burning skin of your abdomen while the wide expanses of his palms explore your thighs, gripping the flesh for dear life. As if, in your time apart, he had convinced himself he would never touch you again.

He peers up at you, worshiping you, but still, there is a darkness in his lust-blown eyes that reminds you of the man he is. The power he holds.

And yet, he relinquishes it all for you.

“Joel,” you whisper as he begins to litter kisses over the thin cotton underwear you wear, reaching down to rake your hands through his hair.

He peers up at you through hooded eyes, a heat and a sorrow both circling them. Wordlessly, he drags his thumbs up your thighs, eyes never leaving you while he hooks them into the fabric, and drags them down. You step out of them, equally pliant and suddenly vividly aware of the spot that throbs between your legs.

“Go on,” he murmurs into your skin, the gravelly nature of his voice sending tiny tremors of excitement to your core. “Lay on the bed for me.”

You think you would do just about anything for him at that moment.

You obey, taking a few short steps backward until your calves find the end of the mattress, sinking with trembling knees and seating yourself on the edge. Joel follows suit, crawling after you, taking large handfuls of your thighs, and spreading them open to find a home between them.

You tilt back onto your forearms, watching the way he dampens his battered lower lip before burning sweet kisses on the insides of your thighs. Your breath falters, fingers curling into the sheets below you to keep stable because fuck, did you miss this.

Only one taste of him and you were left addicted, the cloud of his sinful presence intoxicating you all over again.

You lose your balance once his mouth is on your cunt, already swollen, soaked, and waiting, sinking back into the mattress and renouncing your body to him. His tongue laps teasingly at your leaking hole, committing the taste of you to memory, before running it up and down the puffy lips. Much too soft, too tame, your heels dig into his shoulders to push him closer.

You feel his grip on you tighten. “Just let me taste you a little longer,” he pleads hoarsely, peppering kisses over sensitive flesh. “Fuckin’ missed the taste of you, darlin’.”

His words alone make you shiver, a feeble whimper heaving off your lips. “But Joel—”

“I know,” he mumbles, gifting you another kiss, this one placed right atop your neglected clit. Your hips buck up in response, hands abandoning the sheets to reach for his hair. You swear you hear him stifle a chuckle, thumbs drawing tantalizing circles over your thighs. “I know, baby. I’m gonna make it all feel better.”

He tastes you with broad strokes now, still agonizingly slow, but forcing you to writhe below him every time the curve of his nose or the flat of his tongue massages your clit. It’s overwhelming, as if every ounce of blood in your body rushes to the point he lavishes you in pleasure.

Skillfully. Attentively. A master in his instrument.

I’m gonna make it all feel better.

You wonder just how boundless the promise is. Mind, body, and soul alike, he’ll take the pain away. He’ll right the wrongs with tender touch and honest words. He’ll put you back together again, piece by piece, just as he always has. Just as you’ve always let him.

“Oh, fuck,” you keen as his tongue becomes more eager, devouring you as if no other meal could satiate his needs. A growl rumbles deep in his chest when your fingers tug on his curls, his lips suddenly wrapping around the sensitive pearl and sucking generously.

You’re clenching around nothing, the desire to be filled deep and raw, but the peak builds nonetheless. Starting in your gut and cascading through your thighs, warming your chest, and sending your eyes to the back of your skull.

“Don’t stop,” you pant, your thread of sanity and control snapping vigorously. Your hips chase the length of his tongue greedily, but Joel is just as eager to comply. “Please don’t stop, I’m — ahh — Joel!”

His name is the last coherent thought you can muster before white, hot ecstasy consumes you.

He keeps this promise. He makes it all feel better. He builds a cathedral around you and denotes himself as the worthiest worshiper, giving and giving even after the wave of your orgasm crashes through you and your moans become cries of rapture.

You’re lost to him, now. A piece of forbidden fruit willingly plucked. An eternity of damnation awaiting you both for tainting the sacred peace you had worked so diligently to uphold. You welcome the chaos, if it means you get to control it. If it means you get to feel this good.

You don’t even realize how adamantly your legs tremble until Joel is caressing them, planting calming kisses along your thighs and muttering how sweet you taste, how good you are, how much he wants you.

The loss of him between your legs causes you to whimper, finally craning your head up to search for him with hazy eyes. Your body feels like clay, molded to the shape of the mattress, malleable to his will. He shushes you calmly when you whine his name again, a vow that he’ll return, and you hear the shuffle of his shirt and the clank of his belt buckle being undone.

When you feel him again, he’s bare on top of you. Thick thighs cradled between your open legs, skin on skin. The perspective is new. Overwhelming, even. Unlike the last time when you sat atop him, this feels more profound. More intimate.

The weight of him is comforting, keeping you grounded. You’re caged beneath him, and yet you never wish to escape. There is a safety in the way he hovers over you as if he’s shielding you from the pain the rest of the world has to offer.

You can feel the way he breathes. Every rise of his chest brushes yours, and eventually, it seems the pattern of air between you falls into unison.

His eyes are intense. They watch you as you watch him, both suspended in a moment of pure fascination, allowing yourselves the time to just be. To feel.

You lift your shaky hands to his cheeks, his resting on either side of your head where his fingers twirl at strands of hair. You run yours along his jawline, familiarizing yourself with the sharpness of it and the scruffy hair that resides there again. You linger your thumb over the spot that never seems to have any growth, caressing it gingerly.

“I missed you,” he whispers, and you feel the all too familiar rock of emotion get stuck in your throat. He leans down to capture your lips again, to which you return tenderly, threading your fingers through his hair and holding it taut. His lips ghost your jawline until they find your exposed neck, scattering kisses and sucking gentle splotches. You hope he marks you like before, claims you with certainty this time.

“I missed this,” he continues, punctuating the word with a fluid roll of his hips, making you vividly aware of his heavy cock and the way it glides over your folds.

You hiss in response, the impending need of fulfillment suddenly becoming all-encompassing. He must feel it too, the deep rumble in his chest a sign of primal instinct. It’s too much, and yet, not enough. Every ounce of your senses doused in his power.

“Please,” you find yourself begging, voice meek and desperate. “I need you.” And you do. Need him. With every fiber of your being. “Can’t wait any longer.”

It’s what you said to him the first time he took you, and you think he remembers it now, watching as the flash of pure desire darkens his eyes, and he reaches ardently between your entangled bodies to grip himself.

You feel the tip of him kiss your entrance, slick and throbbing from his diligent preparations and weeks of unbridled yearning.

The stretch is wide, but all too familiar, eliciting a sharp whine and grunt alike from the both of you. Your hands keep him close despite the momentary pain, relishing in the heat of his breath on your skin. His nose nuzzles into the crook of your neck when you arch off the mattress, inviting him further in until he’s buried to the hilt inside of you. Your cunt flutters involuntarily, allowing the intrusion. A welcomed guest, far too long departed from the place he belongs.

“Fuck,” he growls, and you can tell he is using every ounce of self-control to not break too soon.

But you’re relentless. He’s willing to give, and you cannot stop yourself from taking. Your ankles latch around his thighs, afraid to lose the warmth of him. Skin so close, buried so deep. It’s reflexive, the way your hips begin to buck up against him, seeking friction. You whimper when the tip of him finds the sensitive spot inside of you, nestled so deep it has you gasping for more.

“Tell me,” he starts, voice gruff and buried in lust. “Tell me what you need, baby, and I’ll give it to you. I’ll give it all to you.” He returns your clambering hips with a rock of his own, causing your nails to dig into his scalp.

“I need you…I need you to fuck me,” you heave, breathless. Sweat already pooling at your temples. “Please. Please, Joel. Fuck me.”

He doesn’t hesitate.

Chest to chest, forehead to forehead, he takes fistfuls of the pillows on either side of your head to stabilize himself before he’s thrusting into you at an unforgiving pace. You hear yourself cry out into the room, your thoughts dampened into nothingness. A blissful state of release; relieving yourself of anything and everything that isn’t Joel.

The sound of slick, slapping skin joins in the beautiful symphony. He doesn’t silence you, nor worry you may be heard. He’s a beast above you, grunting every time his cock pummels up against your cervix, sending the headboard back into the wall with a steady bump.

You’re enamored by the sight of him: tan skin, and bulging biceps that cage you under him. His damp brow is pulled in focus, but his eyes are on you, watching the way your jaw falls slack and how your eyes well with tears.

It’s the intensity of his attention and the magnitude of the situation all at once. His eyes bore into you as if you’re a rare sight, and already, you feel the coil in your belly begin to wind both with pleasure and relief. Relief that, despite the troubles past and those to come, he is here.

And he is yours.

“Joel—” you croak, those unspoken words threatening to be said.

“It’s okay,” he’s quick to console, letting a thumb drag over the apple of your cheek to catch the tears that finally spring free. “It’s okay, darlin’. I’ve got ya.”

Then, he’s using the same hand to caress the expanse of your body, finding the crux of your knee and hiking it further over his hip. He’s able to sink further inside of you, sending your head back into the pillow and his lips darting to one of your breasts to suck gingerly on the hardened nipple. His hand disappears between your bodies then, finding your clit and circling it with his ring finger.

You feel yourself gush around his cock that swells inside of you. The assortment of stimuli is on the verge of driving you mad, every nerve ending in your body seeming to buzz uncontrollably. His name falls off your lips repeated in prayer, and you can’t quite pinpoint where his body begins and yours ends. Your hands clamber from his hair to his shoulders and chest, marking the sheen flesh with tiny crescents.

“Come on, baby. Come on,” he coaxes as your legs begin to tremble around him, releasing your nipple with a wet pop only to torture the other with a few, slow licks. You’re starting to unwind, and you think he must be too by the way his voice drops an octave, and his once rhythmic thrusts become sloppy, deep strokes of dwindling self-control.

“Goddamn,” he growls into your skin, sinking his teeth into the side of your breast causing you to wail. “Fuckin’ squeezing me so tight, baby. Feel so good.”

You try to speak, but it’s a mangled mess of moans and pathetic little whines. He takes it as direction to increase the pressure on your clit, and the wire snaps, starting at your core until it numbs your brain and curls your toes.

“Joel—!” you gasp, gripping onto him for dear life. He doesn’t change a single motion, the floodgates of tears that wet your cheeks now inconsolable with torturous delight. “Coming. I’m—oh fuck, I’m coming. I’m coming.”

It’s primal, the release and all that follows. The way he abandons all other parts of you to wrap you up in his arms, props himself up onto his knees, and uses his last ounce of sanity to pummel you through your orgasm. It hasn’t even subsided, barely down from its peak when his face buries back into the crook of your neck. A string of incoherent grunts seep into your skin before a white, hot liquid spills into you. You convulse eagerly around his cock, milking the sticky release, and he pushes it further and further inside until he feels your cunt settle around him and your lips squeal in approaching overstimulation.

Your body is crushed under the weight of him. It’s not painful or overbearing, but perfectly content. His head falls onto your breasts, arms still engulfing you as your legs go limp around him. He doesn’t pull out, leaving you a conjoined heap of heavy breathing and tangled limbs.

You’re full. You’re satisfied. And as you slowly start to regain your senses, there’s no lingering pain left to be found.

You’re happy.

Eventually, your hands find his hair again, weaving through his now damp curls and soothing circles across his scalp. It’s peaceful, mundane even. He mumbles something incoherent before squeezing your body tenderly and placing a fleeting kiss on the spot just below your ear.

Only then does he adjust himself, carefully reaching between your bodies again to ease his softening cock out of you. You both sigh at the loss, and there’s a momentary ache when he rolls his body off of you. But as soon as his back hits the mattress, he’s reaching for you again, and you don’t hesitate to cuddle up into him, slinging a leg over his waist and resting your head on his chest.

You stay like this for a long while, silent and blissful. You don’t care that you’re covered in sweat. You don’t care that your hair is a mess, and your teeth could probably use a good brush all the same. You don’t care that his cum is leaking out of you, and you think when he finally suggests getting a towel to wipe you up, he’s more worried about your comfort than his.

“No,” you whine, perking up from the post-orgasm stupor to grab at his shoulder and keep him from leaving.

Joel frowns. “But baby, you—”

“I don’t care,” you rush, urging him back against the mattress and curling in tighter, holding him closer. You don’t care. Don’t care how unruly it is. How ridiculously attached you come across or how needy you behave.

You’ve just gotten him back, and you’re not ready to let him go.

Joel seems to accept it, for it only takes seconds before he’s back to holding you close and drawing soothing shapes up and down your spine with his fingertips. You let your eyes flutter shut, pressing your nose into the skin of his pec and breathing in deep. You listen to his heartbeat, strong and steady. It soothes you. A heaviness weighs on your eyelids with each thump, coaxing a much-needed slumber.

“Should get some sleep,” he mutters as if he can sense you fighting it. His lips dance against your hairline with his words and the occasional kiss. “I’ll be here when you wake up,” he adds, and now you really fear he can hear your thoughts. The incessant worry of him disappearing again an unavoidable anxiety.

You tilt your head up, just enough to find his eyes. You’re unable to hide the look of unease, and Joel clocks it, returning one of sympathy.

“I will.” It’s a promise, but he knows better than to make such a bold claim so soon. Instead, he leans down again, pressing a firm and lingering kiss to your forehead and tightening his arm around your waist. “Not goin’ anywhere.”

You look at him a moment longer, analyzing the earnestness that seems to exude through his eyes. Still pleading with you to acknowledge it, accept it.

You take the leap of faith, relaxing back into him, holding him a little tighter. Somehow believing, knowing, that he would rather die than ever break your trust again.

follow @cavillscurlsupdates & turn on notifications to be notified when I update!

chapter song:

#divine dynasty series #mafia!joel #joel miller x reader #joel miller au #joel miller smut #joel miller fluff #joel miller angst #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us au #the last of us #joel miller #joel miller x you #joel miller series #Spotify

514 notes · View notes

celestialgaea · 4 years ago

Note

write a fic(nsfw or sfw its up to you) with Ezio and a teenage girl who fell in love with him(i’d want it nsfw if you’re fine with it)

I'd love to do that! It has been quite some time since I wrote a request, so i’m so excited! Enjoy :)

Pairings: Brotherhood!Ezio Auditore x Reader

Warnings: Mature content, smut, age gap

Disclaimer: Ezio is at the age of 45 at the beginning of the Brotherhood serie as the reader will be the age of 19, so if you are uncomfortable with age gaps then i’d advice you to scroll further. It is not wrong to have feelings for an older man, however, it is wrong if an older person would use it to manipulate you and hurt you intentionally. This was written for the mere entertainment of the AC fandom!

A/N: I am so sorry for letting the requester wait for weeks! I hate to keep people waiting, I swear. But I have been able to finish this piece and I'm so happy! Let it enjoy you, loves

Along the horizon a blemish of darkness formed and began to spread itself along the, what seemed, infinite edges of the earth. The orange sky set her intentions to flee and slowly vanished, causing the natural state of the heaven’s to occur right in front of your eyes. It felt lonely yet so calming.

‘You seem so dazed by the upcoming nightsky, mia signora.’ The grumbling undertone of Ezio’s voice was vibrating inside of his chest and could be felt against your back. It was as though the vibration was spreading from his breast towards your lower abdomen as a warm and tingling flow. 'It's just beautiful.' You said.

'Just beautiful?' You didn't need to face him to know that he'd raised an eyebrow saying that. It was a very typical gesture Ezio always made, even unknowingly, and that small signal was just enough for him to add a subtle layer of promiscuity to himself. Ezio simply wouldn't be 'Ezio' without a touch of promiscuity. That was the secret to his unexplainable aura that made you taste life whenever you were in his prescence and yet all the flavour would get drained from your tongue if he'd leave, as if the gate's of heaven closed abruptly in front of your eyes as his back was turned towards you. He carried temptation and desire with him, to wherever he goes, and even makes the strictly chaste women beg him for a brush against their thigh, an intense look from his smouldering eyes, a hot and lingering breath against their open mouth.

'Yes, just beautiful, Ezio.'

'And what makes it beautiful, bambini?'

'The calm and enigmatic scenery. It's dark and unknown, and yet it's the most intruiging thing i've ever observed. Reminds a bit of you, just a little bit.' Small spots of flaming skin freckled the whole width of your face and there would be no point in turning the other cheek as Ezio's overtowering head already noticed your reddish feature underneath his gaze. He emitted a breathless laugh, a grumbling grin. There was a tendency that whispered in Ezio's ear. This tendency told him to make a teasing remark about your blushing skin. It would've subconciously stretch out his ego, add a bit of empowerment to his pride knowing that even at the ripe age of 45 he'd still be able to make the early flourished flower allow her sweet nectar to be tasted by him, just a small taste of enlightening in return for enlightment.

'And, again, what makes me a bit like that?' Ezio asked, repeating to raise one eyebrow. You stayed quiet, not knowing what to say, and just kept listening to the constant rips and breaks of small twigs and dried up leaves getting crushed underneath the horse's hooves. 'Am I really that closed, huh? I thought the whole of Italia knew about my reputation from waltzing to one flower to the other.' He released a breathless laugh again. 'Yes, they do. But that is because it's the only part of you they see,' You paused to subtly sniff up the drippling liquid that ran down your left nostril just in time before it reached the open door to your philtrum. 'Truly, you are an open book, but written in a cryptic language.' It was troublesome to hide the breath-heaving excitement that hugged your chest tightly as Ezio's body rubbed itself against yours with every gallop and bumpy cantering the horse made. Wether it be his upper thighs softly caressing the backside of your thighs or the warmth of his sweaty robes clinging itself onto your back, it was enough for your mind to wander towards more bare skin.

'Bambini, there are more parts of me that they have seen. And besides, you are still too young to be putting your nose inside of my younger years.' You grinned softly. 'I don't find you that old.' 'Oh?' 'How old are you? 40?' You asked. 'I wish,' Ezio said, almost daydreaming. 'But alas, I am forty-five.' 'forty-five sounds...' 'Old? Don't be shy, mia signora, I won't bite.' The soft rumbly undertone of his voice was melodic. His talk was never mundane.

'Forty-five sounds ripe.' If you were able , or rather, if you dared to face Ezio you knew that he would be taken aback. You continued. 'A perfect age where experience, wisdom and vigor is combined. Well, it depends on the individual, but you have the right combination; You have a lot of vigor,' His arms slightly embraced you tighter. 'You have experience,' He tugged onto the reigns, expertly, causing the fleshy stallion to prance, exposing the strenght and beautiful anatomy of the animal. 'And wisdom.' And he stood halt in front of his mansion. The mansion where he inhabited the role of mentor, brother, son and lover.

'I feel honored, truly. You may be young, (Y/N), but your mind is beyond your years. I have a friend whom you may like to talk to. Nicollo Machiavelli. Do you know him?' You shook your head. 'I have never heard of messere Machiavelli.' 'Understandable,' Ezio handed the reigns over to the stable boy, a meager young man whose hands had more capacity than his head.

The night might have brought a serenity with her for those whom were able to seek it, but for you there was none to find. The only presence that kept you company, sadly enough, was a bird who kept on singing its weeping lullaby. You just wanted Ezio to be here in this guest room, only him and you. It musn't be moans and brushes and kisses and touches, that enigmatic warmth and intimidation that was present around him was more than enough. How you would've regretted it to wake up the next morning, if you had found the will to sleep, only for this place to be without any trace of Ezio's presence.

An onimous silence brooded. Ezio couldn't be asleep, not yet. And you knew that well enough. You had silent hopes on Ezio coming through your door when you took a porcelain oil lamp holder in your hands and hesitatingly threw it onto the floor. The split second of the oil lamp holder being afflicted by deepend cuts that spread itself rapidly all over the object until it shattered into a mess of piercing shrieks made you shiver as the next second was overflowed by the complete silence of the night. It took less than a minute when you heard heavy stomping coming nearer and nearer. The door opened and exposed Ezio, whose chest was heaving and sighs were heavy, in only his loosened chemise and -Oh, how daring- open breeches. He locked eyes with you before turning his gaze towards the sharp mess on the floor.

'(Y/N), oh dolce madre di Gesù. What did you do now, kid. You could've hurt yourself.' Kid. His vague thinking had spat out the truth of how he truly perceived you. A child. A naïve and stupid child.

'I'm sorry, I just wanted to write but I accidently pushed the lamp holder away with my arm.' You bit the inside of your cheek as you tried to hide the dispair that one word brought you.

Kid

'Well, don't let me interrupt your writing, then. And don't you make me worry like that again, understood? My old man's heart can't take that.' He grinned at his own words before silence took a hold again; for him it was a sign to walk away and so he did. He walked out, but you (Oh, you!) couldn't help but stay nailed to the ground, your eyes following the trails of wrinkles on the back of his chemise.

'Besides,' You said hesitantly, breaking the silence and breaking his steps. Ezio was not far from the door before heading back to you, awaiting your words at your door frame. He stood there and it was real. This all was real. You called him and now you were obliged to continue.

'I am not a kid. I am nineteen. I am an adult.' Ezio smiled -unknown if it was to laugh at you or to have pity on you-. soft rimples adorned the sides of his eyes. You had no idea of what to expect from him. And weird enough, Ezio came closer. 'I know. But you're still so naïve. Do not feel embaressed for being called a kid. Actually, forgive me, I should not have called you such. You are much more mature than a kid,' You didn't know how to respond, so you just nodded your head in acknowledgement, your lips curling into a faint smile.

'But do I look like a young girl? And I mean, like, a kid girl.' Ezio squinted his eyes faintly and his face was slightly angled to the side, mildly questioning you.

'In what context?'

'Physical appearances.' He couldn't help but laugh quietly, shaking his head. '(Y/N), Ragazza, Yes you look like a young girl, but not a kid,' Ezio paused in his words. And you couldn't help but stray your eyes away from his dilated pupils to the curvy pathway of thick eyelashes that hung like curtains underneath his bottom eyelids. 'Your skin is youthful and supple, your eyes look dull but they are filled with life. Why wouldn't you want these features while you still have them?' For some reason you couldn't fixate yourself on his words. At that moment you felt intoxicated by the subject and wanted to take it a step further. You yearned to fall into his arms for no reason but to feel him. If it was possible, you would've clung your body onto his. You weren't even able to process his words, your mind was to busy wandering towards sensing Ezio to the fullest.

'No. No, no, no,' You shook your head with every word, saying them vaguely and you felt like whining for comprehension. 'Not my skin nor my eyes nor my hair nor my ears. I meant my body. Does my body look mature?' Ezio's eyes seemed to hesitate, trembling, as if he feared to break an oath of chastity. He bit onto the soft tissue inside of his cheek, knowing that your gown was fairly see through; such was exposed by the protrusion of your soft nipples.

'You're wearing a loose nightgown so it's difficult for me to judge. Still I cannot judge from the formal dresses you wear, that would be perverse, (Y/N), you know that.' How willing you were to get an answer out of him. Just a comment on your hips or your soft breasts or the faint curvature from your elegant ankle. Nothing more. Allowing him to whisper it to your curves, letting the words embrace its soft skin.

You tugged onto the collar of your nightgown to push it down your shoulders. Ezio kept silent, unable to predict your actions, and yet, somehow, he was in awe. The cotton night dress slipped down from your body and the unexpected exposure of wind seared your skin. You noticed how he tried to quietly cover his breeches with his chemise. It brought you a sense of victory, knowing that his breath was unstable as he fought against his desire to hold you, to warm you, to love you. He nearly seemed frozen.

'(Y/N)...' Ezio pierced your eyes with an intensity of his. You took hold of his hand and unsurely cupped them around your breasts, insecure of his big hands not being delighted by the size -How silly it might've sounded to him-.

'Is my body mature? Please, Ezio, don't keep your thoughts to yourself.' You had to laugh while saying that, you didn't know wether it was to laugh away the scorching silence or your own slight embaressment of your impusliveness.

Ezio held the soft flesh underneath your breasts and tenderly touched them, sometimes his thumb caressed your nipples before replacing it with the soft touches of his incinerating breath and hunry lips. This feeling was new to you, new but welcoming. A heavy intoxication of his bodily warmth seared your skin, your veins, your blooming flower. Your womanhood was singing with passion, begging for him to make it reach her sweet melodious notes like the upper string of a lute. Ezio's lips traced across your collarbone and planting soft kisses with tenderness up to your neck. You instinctively opened your mouth for only a melodious heavy breath that whispered to Ezio for more.

'Your body is so mature, from your beautiful breast,' His handpalm enveloped your private part, slightly squeezing it before pressing two fingers against your humid crease and clit. 'To the carnal lust that hides inside of your fullgrown womanhood.' He whispered against the beginning of your cheekbone. With tender kisses he drew from your cheek to your lips, reddened and plumped by arousal. He sucked onto your bottom lip before taking all of you in. The meatiness from the kiss moved waves of heavily emotions inside of you. Before you'd know it you had your tongue caressing his. Ezio smothered a groan in your mouth. He tasted of wine, tons of glasses to drown the loneliness and create the illusion of a company that was just the two-sidedness of his tipsy subconciousness. His shirt was pulled over his head with an impatient tremble and you know how he slowly came to implode by all of the sensory goodness.

He carried you onto the bed. Ezio's body was fit for his age; broad, muscled an yet soft, but not that soft. His hands wandered towards the rim of his breeches to pull them of, but he came to a halt, leaking the trimmed hairs that led to his manhood. A realistion had hit him.

'Bella,' He spoke. 'You're a virgin, true? Pardon me if I'm incorrect.' You nibbled on your lip. 'Yes.' He hummed. The hum didn't seem one of desire nor out of regret. 'I don't want to put myself on display immediately because that would make you uncomfortable as it is your first time.' A warm sensation formed in your heart. He cared. He truly cared. It made you trust him even more and you were sure he wouldn't hurt you, not at all. His mouth opened, wanting to speak further.

'When was the last time you had your menstrual cycle?' He asked. You let out a breath as you thought about it. 'More than two weeks ago, why?' Oh, how limited your sexual knowledge was and how you were ashamed of it. 'To make sure you won't carry my child.'

Ezio came onto the bed to hover you. 'I'll make sure you never want to share the bed with no other man except for me.' He whispered. Ezio flowered blooming kisses onto your neck as his hand began playing with a single breast, giving love and affection to it. You expected the soft trails of his fingers to set its odyssey towards your womanhood, but he stopped, resting the palm of his hand onto your lower stomach. 'Calm down, bella, you are way to tense.' You didn't even realise how the muscles in your neck had moved against his mouth the lower his hand went or how your eyes counted every indivual speck of grayed out plasterwork that was spreaded across the ceiling as a way to escape the anxiety of the moment.

'I'm sorry,' You said with a breathless grin, trying to laugh away the strain that was poured upon your shoulders.

Ezio's fingers slowly slid down your stomach towards your womanhood as he murmered against you neck how it was okay to feel frightened by the idea of a man seeing her so bare and vulnerable. The first touch against your clitoris, so careful and feathery, had the small and swollen pearl craving for more of the sensational ecstacy. He began playing with it; rubbing, turning, licking and sucking. The closeness and scorching warmth of his mouth against your private part was as loving as it was undressing you from your shame. How you were so riled up that even the most repulsive persons could be seen as appealing if they'd stood in front of you as Ezio was making the tension inside of your folds build up. The warmth of his humid tongue against such an intimiate place felt unexplainable good, so good even, both to you as to him, that glistening streaks of Ezio's salive rolled down your fold onto the white bedsheets.

You gripped Ezio's hair. Your pelvis was raised and back was arched as you felt the sweetness of the upper snare of a lute being played on your womanhood. Your mouth opened and a long lasting moan emitted from deep down your throat as the shuddering sensation overwhelmed you.

Ezio's lips curled into a smirk. 'We are not done yet, ragazza,' He said mischievously. 'But firstly I will need to break your hymen, so it'll be easier for me to enter you.' And there was that small speck of anxiousness again, slowly growing. The flushed colour withdrew itself from your face. 'How will you do that?' You asked with a hint of concern in your voice. Ezio's body hovered yours again and he began sucking your neck with the moist of his mouth. '(Y/N),' he whispered against your skin. '(Y/N),' He whispered again. And again. And again. Ezio massaged your jaw with his hands and locked eyes with you. 'I will enter you with two of my fingers so your vagina will get used to penetration, then i'll slowly go in deeper until it will be a tad easier to enter you.' 'Will it hurt?' You asked, unsurely. 'It can feel a little bit uncomfortable, but not painful.' You gave an understanding nod. 'Do you feel ready, (Y/N)?' And You nodded again.

Ezio's torso embraced the side of your body as his lips found their way to the sweet spot at the end of your jaw and let it be overwhelmed by the humid heat of his mouth. You were pushed back on the crooked duvet with the utmost tenderness of his hand and you could feel how alive his erection was as it slightly sunk into the flesh of your thigh. Ticklish strokes were made by his fingers whom were slowly removed from the rounds of your breast to set its journey to bring itself in between your thighs. He opened them, slowly, and as soon as your womanhood was fully unveiled in front for his eyes -again- his warm hand squeezed your inner thigh before immediately cupping your bush.

Ezio's kisses kept growing onto your neck and breast as his other arm had been slithered underneath your back to embrace it, pushing your side closer against the heat of his body. Both his middle and index finger began to move across your slit, and he did that a few times, and then he twirled his fingers against your hot and naked flesh to cover them with your natural wetness. The sweetness of his kisses began to vanish as you were focusing more on the interaction of time and the distance of his fingers that slowly began to emerge into one puddle of subconscious fear and confusion -which you covered by an arbirtrary and unspontanious grin-. Ezio placed the tip of his fingers against your opening and slowly wiggled them not even half an inch inside of you. He looked at you. 'Are you hurt?' You shook your head, scared that an emitted word from your throat would ruin the state of false, but striking, serenity you were able to put yourself in. Ezio slowly pushed in deeper and wiggled his fingers slightly before taking them back to the beginning of your openening, but not out, to cover it with more lube that was the most present at your crease. And so he did that again and again until the feeling of pinched and uncomfortable skin had passed and his fingers had an open way towards the unknown depths of your body.

Ezio let his fingers return to the fresh air and kissed you passionatly on your lips. 'Good girl.' He whispered against them. And that was when it happened. Ezio stood up from the bed and began opening his breeches, the profits of plundered money slid down his toned legs and he pushed the trousers at his ankles of with his feet.

It was intimidating and...surreal. You had seen penisses before, but on statues which were a state of purity and modesty, but this. You were doubting if he was able to fit as the comparison of size between his fingers and his manhood was draconian. It stood erect and a few droplets of precum shone on top of his glans.

Ezio hovered you and his stubble tickled the skin around your mouth as he kissed you. His breath came in heavy and irregular parts through his nose and brushed your top lip as his hands had pressed you against his body. His erection was pressed against your body. Ezio gripped your inner thigh to place it over his back and you could see how his eyes were in a half open state of intoxication, his mouth -also- half open and forming a faint grimace. He took his penis in his hand and guided it towards your entrance and slowly put it inside of you, just a little bit. He used the same method as he did with his fingers until the uncomfortable pushes had vanished and he was able to enter you fully.

You felt filled, literally. At first, the slow thrusts were numb until your wetness had come much quicker and in a bigger amount which made the thrusts more rapid, rougher and painless. Ezio's mouth stood agape with soft grunts emitted from it.

And suddenly you felt it. A slow but emotionally overwhelming sensation of building up ecstacy was present the more he thrusted and the more the warmth and the nearness of his bare pelvis pushed against yours. You let yourself listen and observe the orders of your body and automatically widened your thighs for Ezio to thrust in deeper. He kept thrusting in, and with each thrust you gripped his thigh, underneath the fold of his buttocks, and tried to push him in deeper as the building up sensation became sweeter and sweeter and the private parts began to throb agressively. You felt that you were almost there and so did Ezio.

You arched your head back and the sweet sensation of Ezio's scorching body against yours, his lenght filling you and his face burried in your neck overwhelm you. You thought your womanhood was about to burst as so much power and energy came from it and you kept squeezing your eyes until Ezio's grunts vanished in your neck with the warm seed that had been spilled inside of you.

All of this was intense. Unbelievable even. You were in bed with an infamous murderer, the blood of tens and hundreds of people sticking in between his fingers and dried onto his armour, and yet he was naked and vulnerable and tired in your embrace. A man in his forties skin on skin with a sensitive youth. Both committed and so alive. You wondered if more days like this were going to come or if that would be an illusion for the pleasure of your mind and that this was just the only time Ezio was able to give in to your sensuality. But for the moment you didn't care. You were both naked, satisfied and intoxicated.

#ezio auditore #ezio auditore da firenze #assassins creed fanfiction #assassins creed brotherhood #ezio x reader #fanfiction #writing #fanfic

163 notes · View notes

fatui-gf · 4 years ago

Note

hello dear! your works are my current obsession i love them all!! youre v good :)

ive been thinking about like, coming home after a long dag of working to diluc and making dinner together and taking a stroll outside the winery and just soft domestic fluff??? whag i wouldnt do for that man heheh!!

have a good rest of your day n keep up the good work!!!

Hiiii!! Thank you so much for your kind words, it really means a lot to me and helps me keep motivated!! I’ve actually already planned to write some fluff for Diluc, he’s one of my favs, haha. Anyways, I hope you like this fluffy scenario! I took an artistic liberty and made the reader and Diluc married, I think it fits the domestic, sweet vibe and I hope you won’t mind :D

Diluc x reader - Can we kiss forever? (sfw fluff, the reader is gn as per usual)

word count: 1680

It was a tough day for the adventurer’s guild today. Loads of work and not that many people to take care of everything. If you said you weren’t tired then you’d be lying.

It wasn’t completely exhausting but you still couldn’t keep your mind off Diluc, especially during the end of the commissions you were supposed to do. Your mind would crawl back to him, the memories and how much you wanted to see him again, remembering the good morning kiss he had placed on your cheek. You touched your face, caressing the spot that had kissed earlier, lost in thought.

Are you done with your work today? - a familiar voice approached as you paused in your actions.

It was the fellow adventurer from the guild. You averted your eyes, a little flustered that they had seen you daydream just now.

Yeah, I was about to head home right now - you said, giving them a friendly smile.

Alright then, see you again tomorrow! - they exclaimed happily as you turned your own way.

Phew, they didn’t question what you were so intensely thinking about. You smiled to yourself as your mind drifted to your husband again.

You headed to the general goods store to get a few ingredients for dinner. You remembered your agreement with your husband that today the both of you were going to cook together.

After the shopping was done, you headed to the Dawn Winery where Diluc was waiting for you. He had already cleaned the kitchen and prepared what he could. You’ve placed the paper bag with ingredients on the counter as you spread your arms, inviting Diluc for a welcome hug which he gladly accepted. You stayed like that for a little longer, him enjoying the closeness he always missed.

It was beautiful to finally see the man feeling appreciated. He still needed a lot of reassurance, though. After what he has been through, he can’t let anyone he loves so much leave his side anymore. You were like treasure to him, someone whom he would always protect and take care of. He was devoted. Actually, really devoted and committed to the relationship. Most people wouldn’t necessarily describe him as a romantic person and truth be told, his stoic demeanor might suggest that. However, he tried his best to make you smile and happy, usually in the most subtle ways. You could notice he never forgot to greet you with a kiss in the morning or how he would gently hold your hand when you were nearby. It was the little things for him, mostly in the comfort of our own home, away from the sight of others. He didn’t need to show everyone you were his nor did he need the approval of strangers. All that mattered to him was the truth of your feelings.

Cooking the dinner today was entirely his idea, he thought it would be a great bonding experience and quite honestly, he loved your cooking, mostly because it was made by you. The love and effort that was put into a dish mattered more than the rich flavour or a skillful technique used to make it. It was special because it was made with care and hope that he will like it.

After pulling away from the long embrace, Diluc shot you a smile. It wasn’t that rare to see him smile, it was a part of the mask he would put on for the public but seeing him smile so happily and most importantly, truthfully was the best you could see.

He grabbed your hand and led you closer to the counters. You pulled out all the necessary stuff. You were going to make a “once upon a time in Mondstadt” (Diluc’s special dish). He watched you with eyes oh so full of love as you did tasks as mundane as preparing the meat for the meal.

He approached you from behind, putting his strong hands on yours as if he was leading you with them. You could feel the warmth gleaming from his bare hands, he was comfortable enough around you to take off his gloves, besides, he loved to feel your skin on his. It was so simple, yet so intimate.

You weren’t doing anything special but you felt like a royalty, so lucky to have him and so lucky to enjoy the time together. “This… is what love is about, right?” you thought to yourself.

You spent such a great time cooking the dish together, your laughter and sounds of endless conversations filled the mansion’s walls. When the meal was done, you’ve brought it to the table which was set by Diluc earlier. The white tablecloth was dotted with red rose petals and a few candles waited to be lit. Cliche but still cute, you could tell he’s put a lot of care and thought into it. You sat down and enjoyed the meal together. Diluc would sometimes reach his hand to meet yours, feeling your touch, you being close to him, appreciating your looks. You were perfect in his eyes and he was so glad he could have a more romantic dinner with you. It’s always good to romanticize simple tasks and make them something more special. He appreciated your every move, even if it was clumsy, he still adored it.

It was so good, I think we might have to do this more often - you laughed as you were putting the dirty dishes away to the kitchen.

Everything for you - he said, putting his large hands on your cheeks and gently caressing them before he placed a small peck on your forehead.

You shot a quick glance to the window and noticed that the sun was about to get. Your eyes widened and got brighter.

Diluc! Let’s go see the sunset together!

You made your way out of the Dawn Winery, taking a short stroll nearby before you settled down to sit on the grass. It was a little damp but that didn’t matter to either of you. You kept looking at the sky with the biggest smile, your eyes looked so beautiful in this lightning, someone couldn’t take their eyes off you. Your joy was so amusing, how a person could get so excited by something that happens everyday. Diluc quietly placed his hand on top of yours which you gripped, giving him the little thumb rub to show affection. He then averted his gaze from you, directing it at the scenery before him. It really did look beautiful, how the sun basically painted the nearby trees and such with its colors.

He was so happy to share this moment with you, just the two of you. As soon as the sun set, he could feel a playful push on his shoulder and there he landed, fully on the grass. He couldn’t help but laugh at your joyful shenanigans and pulled you closer into a kiss. As you pulled away, you placed your hair behind your ear, looking at your husband laying there underneath you. He actually looked so happy, he got everything he missed. It wasn’t long before you found yourself on the grass, now the red-haired man being the one more in control. Both of you giggled as you messed around with each other, just enjoying the company. You grabbed a strand of his beautiful hair and he reached to you once again, smiling before you could feel his lips on yours.

Can we kiss forever? Can we stay like this… forever? - you could hear Diluc ask after he pulled away.

You’ve placed your arms around his neck, giving him a smirk.

I really want to spend the rest of my life by your side - you said.

Do you promise? - he asked, sticking out his pinky finger - Pinky promise?

Pinky promise!

You know you can never break these, do you?

I wouldn’t dare.

Diluc took your hand, helping you get up. While you were tidying your clothes, he asked if you would like to walk around a little more. You agreed and the both of you proceeded to take a stroll near the winery, holding hands all the time during the process.

I’m so tired - you said after entering the mansion and taking off your shoes.

I’ll make something warm for you to drink before you go to sleep, it would be a shame if you caught a cold - your husband said with care.

You sat yourself on the couch, wrapping your body in a blanket, waiting for the hot beverage to arrive along with your portable heater, aka Diluc.

He came back to you after a while, holding a cup with hot chocolate and a plate with homemade chocolate chip cookies he has made before. Who would’ve known Diluc was so good at not only cooking, but also baking? He handed you the cup and placed the plate on the table.

Would you be so kind to let me in? - he asked as you laughed at his polite tone.

You lifted up the blanket, letting the red-haired man snuggle underneath it and wrap his arms around you. The fireplace was also lit, the glimmering light and Diluc’s loving embrace made you feel instantly warmer.

You kept taking sips of the hot cocoa and tasting the cookies. This is what home tastes like. You could feel your cheeks lighting up whenever your husband would give you a peck, not sure if he was trying to get your attention or just shower you completely with love. Nevertheless, it was beautiful.

After a while, Diluc could feel you drifting away to the dream land in his embrace. He carefully lifted you up from the couch, carrying you to your shared bedroom. He made sure to carefully tuck you in without disrupting your sleep. After getting ready for bed, he lied down next to you, taking a look at your sleepy expression before gently kissing your nose. He reached out to turn off the light and pulled you close into his embrace once again.

Goodnight, love - he whispered even though you couldn’t hear it.

#genshin impact #diluc #diluc x reader #genshin impact x reader #fanfiction #fluff #imagine #scenario #diluc x you #genshin impact x you

186 notes · View notes

lokisprettygirl · 2 years ago

Note

When this reaches you I hope you feel better and you don't have cramps anymore, my dear🥺💝...nature is so unfair to us 😢

Chapter 35 of TB: I'm glad we have fluff here 🥰. Our lovebirds, I love them so much and I really love what you're creating here. Their intimacy, their care for each other, it feels so comfortable and cozy. I'm glad for them that they're always able to find little hideaways to spend time together 🥰💚❤️ ( I'm still thinking about his trouser that had slipped past his v line 😉😏🥵)

And my presumption was right...Loki is alive and not seriously injured. But resting his arm for 48 hours? That's IMPOSSIBLE 😳 THE WEDDING will be in 48 hours 😱. What about his plan?

Of course y/n is very concerned about Loki and scared to death. It's a normal reaction for a loving woman ... it should be. Sameera was not back then when their relationship started to break, and to read that made me feel very sad for Loki, he didn't deserve that , even when he hurt his foot 😭

'He was trying to keep her happy but nothing he did was ever good enough'

Fortunately his baby gives him everything now he needs and deserves and he appreciates it and it makes him more than happy .

'He felt your gentle hand on his wound, your continuous soft kisses on his forehead' '...he felt loved, he knew you'd pick him no matter what happens. '

And y/n pampered him wonderfully.

Cheeky Loki 😏 how can he tell y/n he might lose his arm, she was really scared especially in this situation 🥺😢...to be honest, definitely my kind of humour 🤣😅...and he was immediately sorry , so it's forgiven 😅😊 and not to forget, he tried to calm her down the whole time.

Loki is hurt, under the influence of painkillers but still cares about his baby ' eat for me soon little one, will you? It's been hours.'

So adorable 🥰🥰💕

Eric is an angel, a real good friend and I love him very much. Loki is so important for him and he cares about him too. I'm sure he likes y/n very much and nonetheless it's important for him to say to her 'He's good, take care of him' because he knows Sameera did not.

The fluffy smut, it warms my heart , also the feeding, so intimate and sexy.

'...then you fed him a bite. "That is usually my thing" "Why ? I can't feed my man?" You definitely can. He was your man. ...he was humming with every bite...now you knew why he loved feeding you, it was a different type of intimacy"

Clothed sex, I'm starting to like and enjoy it😂😂😏😏

😏😏🥵🥵 these two are too sweet and adorable 🥰💕💚💚 and I have a new kind of holy trinity now : care, THE sensation and pure love 😏🤗....and you definitely chose the matching gif for this scene 😉😏😁

WTF is going on with Katlyn. She's sick in the head, isn't she? How dare she to assert Loki tried to rape her? She needs help, she definitely needs help and they should take her away , far far away!

And Mason? What the hell...paying Loki for sleeping with her? Oh please, he's as sick in in the head like his daughter. And Steve? The main things is to keep appearances for the wedding 😝🤮

The cliffhanger with the last lines, you know exactly what you're doing 😉.

I think it could have something to to with y/n's mum and Bruce, she still doesn't know that they're alive and what about the letter?...we will see👀👀

That was gorgeous my Queen 👑. I love you 💕💚

Thank you dear 😍💚 I do feel better.

I mean it is a huge mansion and they can find time for each other if they want ,her mother did it for two years 😏😏 but yes with wedding so close it's kind of risky,

Their intimacy is deep and it has built from the place of honest communication they have given each other, because they know that they can trust each other.

Sameera couldn't live without the lavish lifestyle, that was her main problem and she took it out on loki because he wasn't giving her that, she wasn't a very good person if she left her husband to die like that.

Honestly dry humping is always sexier to me for some reason 😂

Mason is the worst and she was going to live with that family if it wasn't for loki 😣

Thank you I love you too dear 🥹

#asks #mcufan72 #the bodyguard

4 notes · View notes

creativeashproductions · 4 years ago

Text

What If...? V // Alive!Luke Patterson

Summary: 1995 was Sunset Curve’s big break in the music world with a successful future. Between 1995-2004 a handful of things happen: Playing the Orpheum, the band buying a house, a car accident, a reconciliation, an engagement, a wedding and children. All things that potentially may have not happened had the boys continued to eating sketchy hot dogs from a car.

Warnings: Swearing, pregnancy, labour, minor angst and a bunch of fluff.

Words: 3.1k

Requested: By @beautifulblogsblog. The last part of your request 🥺😭

A/N: Wow. The last part in the What If…? Mini series is here. This was incredibly fun to write and while I wrote the last two parts I played a few covers and rewrites of Unsaid Emily. This is the first finished series. I’ll also let everyone know that there will be a part three for Lost Time.

TO BE TAGGED SEND AN INBOX/ASK PLEASE!

Masterlist

Hospital Maternity Room #284, 1999

“Have a child, they said. Pregnancy is a beautiful thing they said. I can confirm that asshole that said that had a dick.” You hissed from the hospital bed. A contraction contracting your midsection.

Nancy Y/L/N and Emily Patterson took up residence in the chairs on either side of Y/N Patterson in the afternoon of 1999. Nancy had been using the previous months making a scrapbook for the baby; the first bit with copies of photos from Luke and your baby stages. The rest would be the first year of your baby’s life.

“Would you like some ice chips?” Emily asked focused on knitting the baby hat for her impending grandchild.

Mitch and Lance each had made themselves scarce from the hospital in favour of working leaving the women alone.

“I’d like your son to be here to kick his ass.” Your eye twitched at the thought of your husband currently on an airplane. Sunset Curve had gone on a three-day interview marathon to the dislike of your friends and family.

Sunset Curve really needs to fire their manager with little respect for his charges’ lives. Especially the lead singer’s first child. Luke had no clue you had gone into labour.

“Your father had words with Jerry for his meddling.” Nancy told her daughter glancing up at the strained smile through another contraction, “I’m sure Jerry thought the controversy of Luke not making the birth would be perfect for publicity.”

“I swear I will strangle Jerry if Luke isn’t here. I will pulverize the son of a bitch.” You hissed relaxing against the white sheets in the private suite. The mothers had been constants in the room while Rose, the pianist from the wedding, had visited briefly.

Rose and the photographer Ray had hit it off so well they had entered a relationship that then blossomed a friendship with you. The couple had become dear friends in the last few months.

“Okay Y/N, we’re gonna check your progress.” The doctor spoke swiftly tugging the disposable medical gloves on his hands. Two nurses worked with him. Your eyes pinned to the ceiling during the short examination.

“We’ve hit ten centimetres.” The doctor announced pushing the wheeled stool away to study your expressions, “Do you have your partner here?”

The tears built up as it settled that Luke might miss the birth of his first child when he had been so excited about it. He had bought and read more pregnancy books than you he had been talking with his father on how he could support you. He took classes with his mom on how to change a diaper, check the temperature of the bottle and methods for colic and diaper rashes.

Overwhelmed the feeling of two pairs of hands comforted you with the reminder that while Luke wasn’t there, you still had support. The baby would be born with both his grandmothers in the room. It was as best as it could be.

In a fast pace, you then found yourself with your legs in the stirrups with a stranger, albeit a doctor, staring at your vagina. It was uncomfortable, but it faded when the pain really began.

“Okay I want you to push from 1-10.” The doctor soothed, “Good job.”

“You’re doing so well, darling,” Nancy told you, leading Emily to open her mouth. Unfortunately, she didn’t get the chance.

“I’m here!” Luke exclaimed rushing into the room, “Your dad was-“

Why was it unfortunate that Emily didn’t speak? Well, Luke unprepared caught sight of your exposed lower half. He promptly fainted with a thud to the floor.

“Are you serious?!” You yelled glaring at the puddle of your husband out cold with one of the nurses waving a package under his nose.

The smelling salt pack under Luke’s nose, bringing him back to consciousness, “Oh, boy. I fainted.”

“It happens more often than you would think.” The nurse told the young man while you focused on another push.

By the time the contraction ended, Luke had taken his mother’s place in holding your hand with encouraging words dripping off his tongue.

“This is the only child we’re having.” You hissed at the musician who continued to pale with a perfect view of the birthing in a reflection, “If you faint again I will…ARG”

A beautiful cry filled the room to the relief of baby Patterson’s parents bringing both of them to cry as well. Baby Patterson was scooped away to the corner of the room for a checkup and weight while the doctor inspected you. Time felt unreal as it passed quickly.

Baby Patterson was wiped clean as you delivered the placenta, got cleaned up with a sheet change and began to rest. Baby hairs plastered against your forehead you cooed at the swaddled form of your baby.

“So beautiful.” Luke whispered, unaware of his mother taking pictures with the lessons Ray had given her. The baby’s mouth opened with a gurgle that caused your heart to grow, “I’ll go let the boys know.”

Mesmerized by the baby, Luke made his way to the family waiting room on the maternity ward where it was packed. Opening the door, he counted Reggie, Bobby, Alex, Alex’s boyfriend Willie, your father Lance and Luke’s father. In the corner, Rose and Ray huddled together.

“Well?” Alex anxiously questioned picking at his cuticles, anxious for any news. His blue eyes begging his best friend for answers.

“Y/N is doing fine. The birth was smooth, and baby Patterson is healthy.” Luke proudly announced, placing his hands on the hem of his purple long sleeve shirt.

The room went silent before Mitch spoke, “So, do I have a granddaughter or a grandson?”

From the moment she was born, Stevie Eleanor Patterson had her father tied around her finger with her daddy’s matching hazel gaze. Lips like yours and a nose still unsure of but the nine-month-old was absolutely gorgeous with her short brown hair already curling. Of course, you could be biased as she was all yours.

Stevie wouldn’t settle without rock music of her father singing songs, but she did sleep through the night since day one. That didn’t mean she’d continue to sleep through the night, regression of sleep was tale your mother told about you as a baby.

“Hello sweet baby girl.” You whispered gently rocking the baby back to sleep mesmerized by the perfect combination of you and Luke, “So sleepy from feeding hmm?”

Stevie was heavy with the only complication being the minor tongue tie that was resolved increasing her feed. Stevie had such an appetite you had to compensate with formula to a degree, and you were sure the appetite was all Luke.

“Hey sweetheart.” Luke murmured from the door of Stevie’s bedroom wearing his Rush cutoff shirt and his staple black jeans.

The now twenty-year-old man had transitioned smoothly into fatherhood with the support of his best friends and family. Emily and Nancy had alternated staying in the guest room to help in the first month; the birth had been easy, but recovery had been at a near standstill.

“Hey!” You spoke as Stevie reacted to Luke’s voice, “I thought you said you would be late?”

Luke’s lips turned up at your words, “It looked that way, but Tom sent us home. God, I wish we had him from the first instead of Jerry.”

Both noses of the couple scrunched at the insensitive former manager that had both hit on you and insulted you when started showing with the pregnancy. The minute they could the band fired the man and found a saviour in Tom. Tom had left his previous employment with some magician with a name like Conner or something. The magician was narcissistic truthfully and had a slight obsession with the occult and death.

“Perfect. I need a shower.” You sighed shuffling Stevie into Luke’s warm embrace staring at the daddy-daughter duo.

“Have a bath. Relax babe. I got it.” Luke cooed, staring at his baby daughter’s bright gaze and dimpled smile.

Luke couldn’t believe how blessed he had been in falling in love with someone like you and receiving a gift. The gift being a father to the most beautiful angel in the world with the name Stevie.

“Love you!” You called over hastily make a flee for the master bathroom with the large tub before Stevie objected.

How lucky were you to have a husband like Luke?

Malibu, Patterson home, 2004

Luke, Reggie, Bobby and Alex, better known as Sunset Curve, had become legendary in the music world after their 1995 headliner debut at the Orpheum. In the nine years since the esteemed performance Sunset Curve had released two studio albums and toured four times. With the good times came the bad times as well.

Bobby Willis had decided he wanted to pursue a solo career creating a cavern between all four boys. He would change his name to Trevor Wilson at the suggestion of his label. He had little traction with his songs.

“Daddy!” Squealed, the three old little brunette girl ran through the modest-sized mansion to the man at the door, “I missed you!”

Luke, having memorized the routine, had already left his bag on the ground as his five-year-old daughter launched herself into his arms. Stevie had kept the hazel eyes with the chocolate coloured wavy hair. You could see yourself with her nose, chin, mouth and ears, but the rest is all Luke.

“Bug, you saw Daddy this morning.” You spoke, bringing Luke’s attention to the woman leaning against the wall. Luke’s heart fluttered, taking in the vision of his wife, who inspired so many songs.

Luke’s lips separated to reveal that perfect smile that stilled made your stomach flutter as it had since you were both fifteen. His hazel eyes glanced from your face to the one-year-old on your hip with his eyes closed. Little lips opened with quiet snores.

Hudson Jude was born in December of 2002 thankfully while Sunset Curve was on a break allowing Luke to be there. Hud was a near replica of you with the same eyes as his older sister and father. His infectious personality mimicking his uncle Reggie.

Mitch and Emily’s House May 2002

Last night had been incredible to Luke Patterson as Sunset Curve stood on the stadium stage as the sold-out crowd cheered as the song came to an end. ‘Now or Never’ had a special spot in the band’s hearts as they believed it had been the spark of interest from record execs back in ’95. Luke’s blue electric hung behind him as his best friends, his brothers, came to the edge with him. Grins splitting their faces the four boys grabbed hands and bowed to the audience.

“Thank you so much for coming out!” Luke’s voice reached every corner of the stadium drinking in the cheering and the signs in the crowd. And it felt like just yesterday they played the Orpheum before they hit it big.

The screams growing as Reggie’s winked in the direction of a group of girls, but Luke’s drifted to the VIP section. You stood with Stevie wearing the special headphones to protect her hearing. Her tiny hands clapping as her eyes wandered the large number of people.

The next morning, right now, he was in the living room with his parents, in-laws, his wife and daughter. So much had changed for the vocalist from fleeing this very house to returning to make amends. Now he watched his daughter playing with the toys Emily had found in the attic from Luke’s childhood.

“Hey I got you a gift.” You whispered to the man leaning against your legs on the floor. You sat seated on the couch while the other adults spoke.

“A gift? What for?” Luke questioned leaning to rest his head on your lap. His eyes found the little box you had hidden behind a pillow.

It was small and unassuming to the group in the living room. Luke’s fingers pulled the bow apart before the lid came off. Nestled in the velvet five guitars were. Taking one, Luke read the engraving.

“New Sunset Curve member: Coming December 2002.” Luke whispered blinking as he flipped it to see, “Daddy’s new music buddy.”

You stayed quiet for a moment, “The other ones are for the boys. The back has their names on it.”

“We’re having another baby?” Luke softly asked, turning to face you completely. His eyes wonder-filled at the news, “Oh my gosh!”

“I know. I’m about two months pregnant at this point.” You murmured back cupping his cheeks with the stubble he hadn’t shaved yet. Tears filling both his and your eyes, “With how busy the tour was I lost track of my periods.”

“Oh my gosh. Can I tell them?” Luke pleaded on his knees, bringing the attention of both your parents. Stevie was still so enthralled by her toys she didn’t catch any words..

“Go ahead.” You smiled at the excited man. Facing the other side of the room, Luke nestled into your side on the couch..

Hand pressing on your flat tummy he grinned, “Stevie’s gonna be a big sister.”

Luke was so excited when his second child was born, he was thrilled at having a son; he would have been just as excited for a girl. He had a son and a daughter he loved with everything in him. He collaborated with Lance on a song for his own children just as Lance had.

“Hi Hud,” Luke spoke, stepping close to kiss his son’s sleeping head nestled in your neck, “How’s my gorgeous wife today.”

“Tired. Hud is breaking a new tooth, but Stevie’s been better today. She missed her uncle Alex.” You spoke, looking at your little girl.

Stevie had become Alex’s shadow with the man even buying her a toy drumset for her fifth birthday. Alex and Willie had been away the past two weeks for a honeymoon; they legally couldn’t marry, but that didn’t stop them from having a dedication ceremony. The minute the law changed, you had no doubt Willie and Alex would find their way to a courthouse.

“We all miss Alex.” Luke sighed, “I hope he finds beach sand for the next year, there’s only so much I can take of Reggie. Bobby, Trevor came to the studio today. His sales have dropped, and his label dropped him.”

“He wants to come back?”

“To be fair he never really left the band. He went solo.” Luke admitted, “It’s hard to trust him after he took ‘Get Lost’ from us. At least he didn’t take ‘My Name is Luke’ from us.”

Your hand pushed up the hair hanging in his eyes below the orange beanie that had been a staple outfit piece for years now. Fronts pushed together, Luke kissed you for the first time today other than the quick peck as he left this morning. Hudson had a lousy sleep that left Luke staying up most the night with him.

“At the end of the day, it comes down to Reggie, Alex and you to make that decision. He’s never been a bad person, but maybe he felt like he wasn’t important. How many songs did he write?” You questioned your husband tentatively speaking to not spark his passionate anger.

You saw the annoyance in the crinkle of his nose and his eyebrows almost touching, but it didn’t take from the love in his eyes. With a sigh, he shifted Hudson to his embrace, tugging you to the spacious living room.

“If you look at it outside the band you have Stevie, Hudson and me. You have a family. Alex and Willie are connected at the hip. Reggie is with the band, volunteering at the kids centre, or with Ray.” It seemed it shifted something in Luke. His shoulders relaxed.

“The last few years have been pretty hectic.” Luke admitted watching as Stevie danced to the rock playing on the radio. Her little arms moving as if she was drumming.

Hudson shifted on Luke’s lap as you nestled into his side, watching the little loves you created with soft expressions. Stevie’s bright grin lighting up the room better than the natural light from the windows. The innocence she carried deep in her soul it felt like everything clicked into place.

“Daddy! Watch me!” Stevie giggled jumping as the song changed to Bittersweet by her grandfather Lance. The same song that played in the car accident back in ’96 that had a new meaning with having your own children.

It took a long time before Lance was able to pick up the guitar and perform; his lingering pain in his arm the cause. It took a few surgeries and physiotherapy along with relearning how to play before he performed Bittersweet. Lance performed for the first time live in your hospital room to his first grandchild.

“Whoo Stevie!” Reggie called from the front of the house. Behind him, Alex and Willie joined the same family.

“UNCLE ALEX!” Stevie shouted sprinting towards the tall blonde already crouching for the little girl.

The bond between Stevie and Alex was by far the cutest thing you had ever seen with how Stevie looked up at him. Alex would be the first to suggest tea parties and painting each other’s nails with newspaper for any spills. There wasn’t a better role model for Stevie to love. The bond was reminiscent of Uncle Jesse and Michelle from Full House.

“Ellie!” Alex shouted back swinging the little girl in his hug calling his unique nickname for her. He had taken to shortening her middle name; he really didn’t like when anyone else said it.

Peering over the pink sweater Stevie caught sight of Willie in the door, “Ready Uncle Alex?”

At Alex’s confusion, Stevie wandered over to the skater smiling at the sight of his partner with the little girl. Willie’s brow furrowed as the girl came over to him uncharacteristically.

“Hi.” Stevie spoke, playing with her little fingers, “How was your trip, Uncle Willie?”

A small gasp from both Willie and Alex at the new title given that Stevie was shy with the skater. Stevie had been very excited for her uncle to come back from the honeymoon so she could surprise them.

“What?”

“You married Uncle Alex. That means you’re my uncle now too. Can I call you that?” Stevie’s brows furrowed concentrating on the man with tears in his eyes. The room was silent at Willie collected himself.

“I’d love that Squirt.” Willie choked out when her little arms wrapped around his shoulders, “Learn any new tricks on the drums?”

“Not really! But I lost a tooth!” Stevie excitedly spoke dancing on the balls of her little feet in the kid-sized black vans.

“Oh! Ray wanted me to pass on that he and Rose are pregnant! Baby is a girl due next year.” Reggie gasped, remembering the announcement from lunch at the Molina house, “Ray’s pretty sure they’ll name her Julie.”

The little Patterson girl eagerly informed her uncles on everything that had happened since the dedication ceremony with Willie and Alex. Even the twenty-four hours since she saw Uncle Reggie before breaking out into the dance moves from her dance classes. Hudson now toddling after his older sister with a smile on his little face.

A twist of expressions appeased on the members of Sunset Curve at the same time spoke together. All thinking of a distant vision of a Puerto Rican girl with a blurry face and gorgeous voice.

“Julie Molina? I feel like I know that name?”

Tag List (PLEASE SEND AN INBOX TO BE ADDED! I CANNOT GUARANTEE YOU WILL BE ON THE LIST VIA POST COMMENTS!)

@safehavenmuse @siennanoelle01 @whiterose291 @mell-bell @blackhood5sos @ficrecsideblog @ifilwtmfc @deadpoolgirl23 @crappy-unicorn @sunsetcurve-h @elioelioeli0 @lovesanimals @popcrone818 @lolychu @deepsleepnat @tenaciousperfectionunknown @aunicornmademedoit @just-a-writer-here @simp4reggie @merceret @faithiebrock01 @overlyhypedup @differentsoulrascalsalad @aesthetic-lyss @versaceapa @carleywhittaker @lostgirl219 @itsalexx21 @elllaoo4 @merxxleighann @mediocremunge @fantomlovesjuke4ever @dpaccione @oswin05 @kaylinfayezink @aberette13 @faithie-brock-gillespie01 @eharvey0218 @overlyhypedup @benstormy @auriandthepussicats @sarcasticsagittarius1998 @whothefuckstolemykeds @kcd15 @siriuswvrld @princessvader15 @xoxbloodreinaxox @heimdoodle @joshy-obx @lovesanimals @oopsiedoopsie23 @am3l1a-24 @flying-solo-without-you @jaskiers-sweetkiss @lostrandomfangirln @must-be-a-weasley-92 @jatp-holland @ilikealotofpeople-younotsomuch @dxlanhxlland @dasexydevitt13 @ifilwtmfc @arianagrandes-things @kinda-really-lost @marinettepotterandplagg @ssprayberrythings @morgandamrose @thedarkqueenofavalon @zukoshonourr @crybabyddl @spooky-season-bitch @kcd15 @morganayennefertyrell @magnet-girl @all-in-fangirl @kinda-really-lost @tenaciousperfectionunknown @badwolf00593 @blowakissbabe @talksoprettyjjx @thesweetestsinner @kaitieskidmore1 @writerinlearning @aiofheavenandhell @sageellsworth05 @link-102

#luke patterson imagines #julie and the phantoms imagines #jatp luke #luke patterson x reader #alive!luke patterson #charlie gillespie #caitsy and ash productions

222 notes · View notes

talesfromlissom · 4 years ago

Note

A-z sfw for lucio! please ! there is such little content for him!

you're right about Lucio having not alot of content. He's on of my favorite healers, despite the fact that I cannot play him for the life of me without being a heal bot lol

A (Affection) - How affectionate are they? How affectionate are you? When do you guys show affection mainly? He’s extremely affectionate. His hands are all over you whenever they can be. Hugs and soft kisses on your cheeks and forehead are a norm, and something to be expected every time you two see each other. You on the other hand tend to keep your PDA on the downlow. Your affection is mainly reserved for private times. You’re a member of Overwatch, and although he worked with Overwatch once, he’s still technically regarded as a civilian.

B (Breakups) - If they were to break up with you how would they do it? What would their reasons be? He’d probably break up with you by flat out telling you. However, if you did something drastic like cheat on him, he’d write a song about it. Lucio doesn’t like to think about breaking up with you, but his reasons would probably be because you two don’t see eachother often, or because you’re keeping too many secrets from him. You on the other hand, wouldn’t dream of breaking up with Lucio. Although if you had too, you’d probably do it because he’d be safer if you two weren’t together.

C (Cooking) - Who does the cooking? Who's the worst cook? Surprisingly, Lucio does the most cooking. His apartment isn’t very big, unlike most people who think he owns a big one. He actually has a few friends who made it seem like he lives in a mansion, but in reality he lives in a small apartment in Rio that he enjoys very much. You’re the worst cook. You’ve burnt noodles, caught the kitchen on fire more than once. Lucio has refused to let you into the kitchen unless your taste testing.

D (Driver) - Who's the best driver? The getaway driver? You’re the best driver, Lucio didn’t own a car when he was younger. You’re also the getaway driver because of various reasons.

E (Encounter) - How did you two first meet? You two first met when Lucio called for Overwatch during an Null Sector attack. You didn’t travel with the original team, but you had told Winston that you’d meet up with them. You stayed behind on the ship when the ramp was destroyed. Using your teleportation abilities, you and Lucio got out safely.

F (First Kiss) - When was their first kiss? What was it like? Where was it? Surprisingly, you guys didn’t have the usual ‘first kiss’ and then started dating. It was backwards. But it was a date you two went on.

G (Giggle) - How do they laugh? How do you laugh? How do you make eachother laugh? Lucio’s laugh tends to be very loud and genuine. He laughs at alot of things. There was one instance that includes chocolate cake batter and whenever he sees a chocolate cake, or chocolate in general he loses it.

H (Hobbies) - What kind of hobbies do you two do together? You two like music. Lucio makes music, and as you used to be a music teacher, you listen to his tracks and help him improve them. Otherwise, the two of you enjoy going out and playing soccer with the local kids.

I (I Love You) - How often do they say 'ILY'? When was the first time they said it? You two say you love each other quite often. It’s more along the lines of saying ‘I love you’ between playful kisses. But the more genuine ones are said behind closed doors. The first time he said it was when you two went on a mission and had to lay low in a motel room. The lights flickering above you, with you bleeding out before him. He was certain you wouldn’t survive as his tech had stopped working about an hour ago. He said it in a spur of the moment, afraid of you dying.

J (Jokester) - Do you pull pranks on each other? How many inside jokes do you two have? How playful is your relationship? You two pull pranks on eachother pretty often. But they’re not really ‘pranks’ its more like, ‘ha ha. You know how I said I was going to the store to get fruit? Well jokes on you I got fruit, and your favorite ice cream. #epicprank’. You two have alot of inside jokes, as your relationship tends to be pretty playful. Most of them last for a month or two before they aren’t that funny anymore. Minus the chocolate cake joke, that will probably last until you’re old.

K (Kiss) - How do you two kiss? It varies, some are short. Others are breathy.

L (Little Ones) - How are they around children? Do they want children? How many? Names? Lucio is great around children, young or old. He isn’t sure if he wants kids; however, he already gets stressed with how much publicity he gets from being a DJ, and how difficult it is for him to see you without cameras in his face. If he were to have children, he’d probably have 2. As for names he doesn’t care.

M (Mornings) - How are they in the morning? He’s almost like a lazy cat. You can tell he’s awake because he turns to place his forehead against your chest, or your own. This little fiend refuses to wake up by himself, so he will poke you until you wake up.

N (Nights) How are they at night? He absolutely crashes at night. He steals all the blankets, your shirts, and hoodies are convinstated, even if you’re wearing them he somehow manages to convince you to take them off. He goes to bed earlier than you most of the time, as he prides himself with having a good sleeping schedule. He sprawls out like a cat in the sun until you move him around so you have at least some of the bed to sleep on.

O (Oh The Names) - Any nicknames? Pet names? You don’t have any nicknames for him other than ‘Lu’, but Lucio is the exact opposite. He has pet names that range from american ones like babe, and honey. Other times he uses xuxuzinho (sweet pumpkin), or coração (heart), which seem to stick the most.

Q (Query) How much do they remember about you? Is it the little things, like your favorite flavor of ice cream? Or is it big things like important holidays for you or dates? He remembers everything about you. Your favorite tea brand, types of music, ideal dates, etc. Everything. He has it written down somewhere, because he does tend to forget most of it due to his busy job and constantly on the go lifestyle.

R (Remember Me) - What's their favorite memory of you? His favorite memory is when he came home early and found you dancing in the house, vacuuming and pretending to sing to a song. It was one of his songs as well, and he started singing along and laughed when your faced flushed so red.

S (Strengths) - What's the strongest part of your relationship? The strongest part of your relationship is your dedication to eachother. It doesn’t matter where you two are, even if you end up breaking up with each other, you’d still have each other's back through thick and thin.

T (Tall) - How tall are they compared to you, or how short are they compared to you? God, Lucio is so much smaller than you, only at 5’’3, versus your whopping 6’’0. It’s great.

U (Unity) How do they feel about PDA? What is their main type of love language? What's yours? Lucio loves PDA. It makes him laugh when he makes people uncomfortable because of it. Lucio’s main type of love language would probably be words of affirmation, and quality time. Your’s is gift giving and acts of service.

V (Vanity) - How concerned are they about their looks? How concerned are they about yours? Lucio is only slightly concerned about his looks. He’s constantly in the eye of the public. He’s slightly concerned about yours as well, don’t take it as wrong, but he just wants you to look nice. Despite the fact that you look good in everything….and nothing.

W (Weaknesses) - What is the weakest point in your relationship? You being in Overwatch, and him being a civilian technically. As Overwatch is becoming larger and more involved in government similar to the way it was before, you cannot tell him everything about Overwatch. He gets angry at first, but understands, if Talon or other organizations find out about him knowing secrets about Overwatch, he could be in alot more danger than he’s ever known. Needless to say, that anger returns when he knows that he can handle himself and broke into an omnic ship and survives.

X (Xtra) - An extra headcanon. Lucio loves the piano. It’s much softer sounding than some of his more popular tracks that he is recognized for.

Y (Yucky) - What is the one thing they don't like about you? As stated before, he doesn’t like how secretive you can be when it comes to your job, and how you’re gone for a long time. Sometimes he can’t even contact you during that time.

Z (Zaney) - How do they act when they're drunk around you? The reckless drunk. Lucio is very smart and is able to come up with plans on the dot. The thing is, he often goes through this plan multiple times to make sure there’s no flaws in it. When he’s drunk however, that second step is completely skipped, so you end up with all these crazy shenanigans he tries to pull. Thankfully, he’s easy to convince not to do them.

#lucio correia dos santos #lucio x reader

30 notes · View notes

yandere-sins · 4 years ago

Note

Could you do 47 with a vampire Tsukki from Haikyuu? I'm not sure what the situation is, but could the reader be chubby or plus sized?

First HQ request >-< Am I nervous? A little, but it’s the good nervous! Thank you for requesting! ^-^ Since it’s an xReader, their looks are to up to individual interpretation, I don’t have too much say in it for a reason! Check out my PSA on requesting if you want to know more.

“I am not disappointed. In fact, I’ve been alive for almost a century now, so this is just a small setback.”

»»————-———— ♡ ————————-««

Waking up never had felt so strained before as it did now. Your eyes slowly opened, your view all blurry even when you blinked a few times. The first thing you could see again was the top of your thighs, and it made you quickly realize you were looking down on your seated form. Using some core strength to sit upright again, you were hit with dizziness in your head and pain in your neck, figuring you must have sat hunched over for a while.

Groaning, you tried to focus on the things around you, turning side to side, only to find a restrain on your body. Begrudgingly, you looked down once more, pulling and rotating your wrists, bound by a red rope to the chair you were sitting on. Even though you couldn’t see it, you felt the same tight, restraining force on your ankle, and a slow panic rose.

“Okay, think,” you instructed yourself quietly, pinching your eyes closed again as remembering hurt more than you thought it would. You had been at home when some bandits showed up. Jumped out of the window, ran into the forest, sought shelter in an abandoned house you found. You had thought yourself to be safe inside the mansion, wanting to hide out there before going back home and see what was left of your belongings.

So how did you end up in this peculiar situation?

Was that the bandits work? Did they string you up like this? Did they follow and find you? All your memories after you slipped inside the mansion were unavailable to you; you just couldn’t remember anymore.

But that didn’t help with the panic, as you suddenly heard wood creak in the distance, imagine it were the floorboards budging under the weight of someone approaching. Helpless, you looked around, surprised that you could actually see something from candles being placed all around the room sporadically. Otherwise, it was dark as night around you, thick, heavy curtains covering the windows, so you didn’t even know what time of day it was. But aside from bookshelves, a desk, a bed, and a couch across from you, there wasn’t much to find here either. It was enough to live for one person, but who’d live all alone in an old house out in the dark woods?

Then again, if it was the handful of bandits you encountered, you really didn’t care how they lived. All you cared about was what they were going to do.

You grew frantic as you heard the door handle being pushed, not having noticed any steps coming closer than when you listened to the wood creaked. Your head jumped into the direction, the fast movement causing another wave of dizziness on you as you watched a blonde tuft of hair slip in through the gap.

“Oh,” the man spoke as he noticed you watching him. He didn’t look like he was one of the bandits, with fine, delicate clothes on him, fitted and sharp - nothing that simple bandits would need. His glasses didn’t hide the brilliant orcher color of his eyes, shining strongly behind the black frame, and his skin was fairer than the fairest maid in your village had. “Someone decided to wake up.”

In his hand, he carried a small plate, packed with chocolate rips that he set down on the table in front of you, picking up a piece to hold it in front of your face. With a shake of your head and a small grunt, you bit your lips, unwilling to take anything a stranger so casually offered to you. Surprisingly, after another initial, demanding shake of his hand, he let off, throwing the piece back to the other’s while sighing.

“Who are you?” you finally asked, adding a quieter, “And where are we...” at the end of it. The man sat down, leaning forward with his fingers in the gap between his legs. “My home that you intruded in, and I am Tsukishima Kei, the owner of the mansion.”

“Can’t be,” you blurted out without thinking. No one lived in the mansion, it was long abandoned, and everyone in your village knew it, so he must have been lying. Frowning, he took in your words, shaking his head slowly. “Humans, always so quick to judge. Don’t you remember when you first entered the mansion?”

Taken aback, you had to admit you didn’t remember. “No... not really...”

“Oh,” he noted bluntly. “I guess that's my fault, loss of blood can cause short-term amnesia.”

The questions in your face must have been prominent as he huffed, a smirk falling over his lips. “Just because it looks abandoned doesn’t mean it is. You were quite taken aback with how beautiful my entrance hall was, but I reacted out of instinct. My bad.”

“I’m afraid I still don’t understand... Bandits attacked me, and I fled here and--”

“Ah, yes, the bandits. I took care of them. I am sure you don’t mind.”

“N-No, I don’t mind?” Confused, you tried to calm yourself, realizing you were still bound to the chair, having this awkward conversation with whoever he was. “So, how did I end up like this?” Emphasizing your question, you twisted your wrists, the rope straining and making noise.

“The ropes? Well, you see, I can’t let you go,” Tsukishima spoke calmly, nonchalant even. “But why? Please, I was just trying to get away from the bandits--”

“And I told you, I took care of them.” Pushing his glasses up, he folded his hands in his lap, leaning back. His eyes pierced you, causing goosebumps to appear on your arms, when he suddenly got up again, rounding the small coffee table in a matter of seconds. “Don’t you think I deserve a reward for the trouble of dealing with them? I haven’t had some human blood in a while. It’s only fair you’d stay until I am satisfied.”

“B-Blood?!” you squeaked, trying to follow him with your head, but he passed you by, getting behind you where you couldn’t see him anymore. All the more, you flinched as his arm suddenly came up from the side, holding up a mirror in front of you. You saw your own frightened look on your face, as well as a prominent, familiar mark on your neck. Though, as you inspected it more closely, your eyes drifted to something even more unnerving, and you noticed that despite you feeling him standing behind you, there was no reflection from him in the mirror next to you.

“V-Vampire...” you whispered, and you heard him let out a long, amused hum. “Why are you still surprised?”

He was right. Memories started to flood back into your mind. Of you, getting torn to the ground by what you thought to be a raging animal. In reality, it must have been him, starved and alerted by your approach, and the realization made you shudder. You could have died from it, but you were still there, completely at his mercy.

“Unfortunately, you tasted so bitter, I could barely enjoy the experience.”

Arm and mirror disappeared as he walked back forth into your field of view, and you did your best to keep face in front of him. He picked up the chocolate again, holding it to your lips. Through clenched teeth, you denied it, staring him down despite feeling weak to the intense gaze he had while appearing to be downright bored by the situation. “I am sorry to disappoint, but I won’t eat that.”

“I am not disappointed. In fact, I’ve been alive for almost a century now, so this is just a small setback.” His free hand was by your nose before you could turn your head away - at least try to fight him - pinching down hard, so you yapped for air as you were cut short of it. The moment your mouth was open, he shoved in the chocolate, and you were tempted to bite him as he clasped your mouth shut too, releasing your nose so you could breathe.

“Stare all you like,” he taunted you, while the sickeningly sweet spread on your tongue, daring to simply slip down your throat through the saliva your body produced. “We’ll be here as long as I want to, so you better start learning what your place is in this, Human.”

He held up a new piece of chocolate, and you got aware of his doings. Tsukishima was trying to alter the sugar level in your blood before emptying you completely, presumably, even vampire's had specific tastes they prefered. “I am sure someone will come to look for me!”

“How scary,” he laughed, teasing you with the knowledge that no one could do anything against him. “You better be good, or they might end up hurt too, you know?”

How awful, you thought, using all kinds of dirty tricks on you so you’d comply. Yet, when he brought the chocolate to your mouth, you took a bite, never stopping your eye contact with him, causing his brows to flinch for a moment as he didn't expect your compliance. “I wonder if you’ll make it any more interesting than those bandits. I really can’t stand all those screams and bones breaking.”

Shuddering at the prospect of dying by the hands of a monster like he was, you chewed away on your chocolate in frustration before announcing, “I’ll make it hell for you.”

“Oh,” he noted, lips curling into a wicked grin. “I’d like to see that.”

»»————-———— ♡ ————————-««

Feel free to request from the Supernatural Prompts too!

213 notes · View notes

jougogo · 4 years ago

Text

young & beautiful - iwaizumi hajime

a/n: hello. this broke me when i wrote it. literally, 3am and full on sobs. also, a large part of this fic was inspired by a book called hotel on the corner of bitter and sweet by jamie ford. it provides a lot of insightful views about japanese internment camps in the united states during wold war 2, so if you’re interested i would highly recommend reading it! this is a songfic to young and beautiful by lana del rey but i would recommend listening to summertime sadness as well, also by lana del rey. CLARIFICATION; this fic is set in the ww2 time period! and i like to think that iwa is a lil younger here, so maybe like 15-16? anyways ENJOY MWAH

warnings: mentions of war, racist ppl >:( and v angsty!!

wc: 2.1k

I've seen the world, done it all

Had my cake now

Diamonds, brilliant, in Bel-Air now

Hot summer nights, mid July

When you and I were forever wild

The crazy days, city lights

The way you'd play with me like a child

he knew that this would be the last time he sees you.

you.

the same one wearing those new blue jeans even though it’s mid-july and the air is sickeningly humid, sitting with bare feet dangling over the edge of the rooftop at 4am, with hair softly rustling from the occasional cool breeze that made the hot california summers more bearable.

"hey, i guess this is the last time we’ll meet on this rooftop, huh?" you said, looking out at the sleepy city.

"don't say that! you know it’s not true," he quickly chided you, but the break in his voice told you the opposite of what he was trying to convince you. what he tried to convince himself

hajime put his arm around your shoulders and sat down next to you

the two of you looked out peacefully at the quiet streets of san francisco from the top of your shared townhouse building.

it was almost like little stars, the way that spots of brightness from the city lights were scattered sporadically through the darkness.

"you know, if we get caught for being out this late at night, we would probably die. if the police catches us for not respecting the curfew, we would be in so much trouble. especially with the new relocation orders that the president signed, and the war hysteria, and not to mention the curfew that the government set-" he started, but was interrupted by your dreamy voice.

"i know. but i've seen the world. i've had my cake, you know ? i'm content if this is the way it ends, even if it's not me wearing diamonds and having a mansion in bel air, " you chuckled.

"hey! those were movies. they don't count as seeing the world. and also, diamonds and bel air? pfft, as if you could ever," he rebutted playfully. ever since he was a kid, he would always make it a point to take you downtown to the movie theatre and watch whatever happened to be playing that day. to be honest, he would've never stopped if it weren't for the war.

"oh, hajime. just let me dream a little, alright?" you huffed dramatically, earning a small smile from him.

the dim streetlights from the road provided just enough light to illuminated your features. oh, how he wished he could burn this memory into his mind forever. the way your eyes reflected the moon, the corner of your lips turned upwards just so slightly, a couple wisps of your hair framing your face with the rest pulled back into a lazy braid, held together by a single red ribbon.

red.

the color red.

it brought him back to one of his favorite childhood memories; when the every neighborhood in their little japantown would come together to celebrate new years.

the popping firecrackers, the festive lanterns and fiery signs hanging by the doors.

a time when he would explore the different stores, hand in hand with you, and later chasing you down the sloped streets for taking a bite out of the snack he bought. giggling as adults scolded them for being reckless and wild. his mouth watering as the women of the neighborhood carry out trays upon trays of delicious food, the feeling of present a warm meat bun in his hand, chimes of “itadakimasu” ringing around him. not a care in the world, just pure joy and happiness. it was always what he looked forward to as a child.

oh, what he wouldn't give to go back to those days

Will you still love me when I'm no longer young and beautiful?

Will you still love me when I got nothin' but my aching soul?

I know you will, I know you will, I know that you will

Will you still love me when I'm no longer beautiful?

"will you still love me when i'm not young and beautiful?" you asked softly, pulling him out of his thoughts. he felt your small fingers wrap around his, clasping his hand. "what if the next time i see you, i'm old and wrinkly like a raisin?"

"well, i'd be a wrinkly old raisin too. so what? it doesn’t make a difference in how much i love you, " he replied nonchalantly

"then will you still love me when i’ve got nothing left but my soul?"

upon hearing you ask yet another question, hajime stiffened

"stop asking silly questions," he finally managed to mumble out, hugging his knees closer to his chest.

"you know. they force you to leave behind all your belongings. they take everything away, iwa-chan." you spoke softly. "i'm leaving behind all my important stuff at the basement of the panama hotel. they're really nice people, you know? for letting us keep our stuff there. maybe, if we both come back, they'll still be there and we can look through our old pictures together." you said quietly, twiddling your hair ribbon between your fingers. your hair was wavy from being in the braid all day, and now they were finally freed.

free. how he wished he could be free from all these restrictions again.

he tried to think about happier memories, but everything became painful as the realization dawned on him that he will lose everything. it was inevitable. the little grocery store around the corner owned by that old married couple his mom always talks to? they were escorted away weeks ago. the ice cream parlor he loved because they would always give him extra whipped cream for ordering in japanese? shut down by the government's order. he remembered the harsh words he had heard from a group of protesters when he biked past the golden gate park on his way to run an errand for his mother.

"all japanese are dangerous. they are traitors to the country,"

and that’s when he noticed their pointed glares at him.

“i was raised here! i’d never be a traitor!” he so desperately wanted to yell. but his body told him to keep pedaling away, as fast as he possibly can.

seeing people with these horrible prejudice against him, a stranger, even a kid whom they’ve never met, felt like a stab to the heart

but it also angered hajime to no end

it was the biggest lie he's ever heard. dangerous? that's not true. ok, maybe there were a few pervy geezers, but he knew that this community that he loved was anything but dangerous.

so why are they the one being punished?

he knew he would lose everything eventually. he just didn't think he'd lose the love of his life so soon.

her family had gotten the notice two days ago.

"sacramento. and maybe oregon. probably washington, even idaho" you had told him.

somewhere far, far away from him

he had heard that the concentration camps, or "relocation centers," as the news had put it,

were cold.

the images of concrete, barbed wire and cramped spaces, the stories of families working relentlessly from day to night only to be treated like prisoners, and the thought of sleeping on the freezing floors filled his mind. just thinking about it made him shudder, but the scariest thing was that he doesn't know when his family will be next

growing up, your family and the iwaizumis had been neighbors. he lived on the first floor, and you lived above him. the two of you had bonded over your parent’s chatting, and having each other for dinner was a common occurrence. his parents treated you as their own child, and your parents did the same with hajime. heck, no one would bat an eye if you announced that you were going to sleep over at his house because you two practically lived together.

you were his first love. his best friend. every moment of his childhood, had been spent with you.

you were the ribbon that held him together through his messy life, and now he was losing you

overwhelmed, he could feel his throat began to tighten. his breathing became heavier as he tried to blink back the tears that welled in his dark green eyes.

"hey. you can cry on me, if you want." you comforted him. it was like you could read him like a book, because he frantically sputtered out an excuse

“what are you talking about? and also, to answer your dumb question, i'll love you no matter what. i don't care how long it takes, or what we look like, or-"

you hovered your finger above his lips, gently shushing him.

"i know you will, haji, i know that you will," you said softly as you caressed his cheek. he looked away, but he couldn’t help but choke out a sob

you patted his head and pulled him into a hug, burying his face into the crook of your neck. warm tears dampened the sleeve of your shirt.

"please. please. i don’t want you to leave," he mumbled into your shoulder as you ran your fingers through his messy black hair.

Dear Lord, when I get to heaven

Please, let me bring my man

When he comes, tell me that You'll let him in

Father, tell me if You can

All that grace, all that body

All that face makes me wanna party

He's my sun, he makes me shine like diamonds

“maybe, one day we'll see each other again.” you said when he finally lifted his head.

you stood up and held out your hand to him, an offer to help pull him up since he was probably sore from sitting for so long

however, he didn’t let go of your hand once he stood back up.

“dance with me?” he asked, sniffling and wiping away the last tear.

you nodded, and he began to sway to the faint sound of jazz music coming from the nightclub a few blocks away.

“hey, this is our swing dance routine from PE in 7th grade,” you smiled fondly at the memory as he twirled you around him, only to twirl you back into his arms. nodding in confirmation, he dipped you gracefully, his strong arms wrapped around your waist.

that’s when he noticed the tear trickling down your cheek. it faintly sparkled in the moonlight, similar to how a diamond would.

“i’m going to miss you, hajime iwaizumi from the first floor. thank you for making me happy,” you whispered, looking up at him. he pulled you back up, and held you in his warm embrace.

“even if we don't see each other again in this life, i'm sure i'll find you again. if you’re good, maybe i’ll see you in heaven. be good, haji. be good for me. promise?” you muttered into his chest before pulling away to look him in the eyes.

“no promises. you might have to beg god to let me in.”

“ok. i’ll see you in heaven, hajime,” you whispered, cupping his cheek

and that’s when you pulled him down for a kiss. it was a light, almost featherlike, brush across his lips. your elbows were resting on his shoulders, and your forearm crossed behind his neck. hajime leaned his forehead against yours, the tips of your noses just barely touching

“can we stay like this, for a little while longer?” he asked breathily, still reeling in shock from his first kiss

“mhm. i love you, hajime.” you answered, gazing into his pretty green eyes as they fluttered open.

in the distance, you could see that the had sun begun rising over the horizon, enveloping the two of you in the warm light of morning. you basked in the serene orange glow, admiring every feature of the beautiful boy in front of you.

“i love you,”

he can’t wait to find you again.

tags!! @deadontheinsidebut (ilysm mwah ty for supporting me!!) @aka-a-shii (here you go i hope you enjoy bby!!!) @toshisgarden (mwah mwah ilysm)

#haikyuu!!#iwaizumi hajime #hq iwaizumi #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi oneshot #iwaizumi angst #haikyuu angst #iwaizumi imagine #iwa-chan

71 notes · View notes

the-moon-prince · 4 years ago

Text

The Last Of us~Kurapika x Reader ~Chapter VI

AN: Hi my lovely fellows!

I’m glad to deliver the sixth chapter of my story! I want to thank you, from the bottom of my soul, for your support. It really means a lot to me!<3

I wish you a pleasant read, and I hope you’ll enjoy the new chapter of my story. (Chapter I) (Chapter II) (Chapter III) (Chapter IV )(Chapter V) (Chapter VII coming soon!)

Paring: Kurapika Kurta x GN! Reader

Word count: 2 449

TW: None!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The buzzing sound of the alarm loaded Kurapika's ears.

This time it was not a "Tic-Tic" sound. It was an unfamiliar tune. Starting with sonsy drums and trumpets. The music was in crescendo with a chorus that sang "love, love, love" until a male voice sang

"There's nothing you can do that can't be done~"

"Nothing you can sing that can't be sung~"

A cheesy way to start the day. It was different from the rest of his mornings. It felt warm. Only it wasn't the kind of heat he habitually woke up wilting from a nightmare. It was the feeling of homely warmth and tenderness. Remembering the comparable emotion you have when you are unwell and your mother hugs you.

He sensed something twirl beside him, he began to open his somnolent eyes. That fatigue was not the usual either. Instead of a burning and stinging in the eyes, he felt a comfort he didn't want to abandon. The movements continued until they extended to the covers that surrounded him, to ultimately calm and recover a state of calm. The music ceased as well. It wasn't his pillow, it wasn't his bed, and the chamber was alien to him. It surprisingly smelled distinct. The first item he saw when his sight adjusted were frizzy (hair color) (curls/waves/strands). (Y/n) was standing on the left side of the bed. They had a bed-hair. He certainly wanted to see that goofy bed-hair very more often.

"Shhh shhh, sorry I disturbed you."-their voice was crispy.-"Go back to rest, I'll return a touch later to nudge you."

Kurapika allowed himself to a defeat and laid his head back on the pillow. Some seasons had passed since he had a restful night. He was able to hear the sound of an opening door for it to immediately close, followed by the flow of water. The door was opened again, and an extra further door gave a short crack noise. Kurapika doesn't quite recall how long it lasted, but (Y/n) returned to the room. They placed a cup of hot black coffee on the night table.

"What time is it?"-Kurapika groaned and tried to rejoin.

"Good morning sunshine, and it's 4:23 am"-they answered, sitting in bed with another cup in their hands.

"Why are you doing so early? Not even I arise that betimes."- He stirred early, he had to. But this seemed absurd.

"I must be in the psychiatric ward. I have patients who rely on me. I'll be exiting the home in a moment."-He was shocked at how composed they were, considering the events of the night before. They continued their routine impassively as if nothing disagreeable had occurred.-"Would you desire for me to drive you to the Nostrade mansion?"-(Y/n) suggested to him with a smile. He almost forgot he had to work that day.

"I will get prepared for the moment,"-He sat, resting his back on the bed frame, reaching for the coffee.”And your proposition would be convenient." The caffeine intake helped him shake the drowsiness off his mind.

"I would be amazed to propose to you something to eat, but I only possess chocolate robots at the moment. You don't exactly appear the type of person to have that for breakfast."-they provided an apologetic smile, half-joking half-ashamed.

"Do you ever eat something besides sweets?"-It was agreeable to joke a little in the mornings.

"I ate the flowers you gave me."-(Y/n) answered with the most solemn voice they could deliver. The first time in his 19 years of life that Kurapika heard something of that bearing.

"You ate them?"-Although it was evident that it was not a joke, it seemed so outlandish that he did not see another explanation.

"Yes! Peonies and carnations are edible! Although they taste sweet and fruity. So it might count as sweet." they affirmed smiling.

Sometimes the sincerity of that person perplexed him. They could say the most unthinkable things in the most sudden moments. Above all, with an enormous naturalness. He even wondered if they were even conscious that they did.

The handy part of sleeping dressed was that getting ready was rather quick. Once he put on the black jacket, the wrinkles on his shirt were hardly noticeable. Though, as much as he would love to stay and talk to (Y/n) all morning, the depart ended up arriving. What if the two of them could skip work with an excuse? It was possible. However, both were stiff with their obligations, so it was not feasible. Kurapika was going to show up pretty early for work, he didn't care if it meant to spend more time with (Y/n).

During most of the voyage, he stared at (Y/n) driving and chatting.

"You always use the same earrings." He remarked, staring at the drop-shaped pearl pendants dangling from their ears. They turned to see him and agreed.

"You also wear your red earrings every day."-they were getting close to the Nostrade's residency.

"You're not wrong."-Between spending the day with Neon or with (Y/n), he preferred the latest option by a lot.

"I rarely am, dear. I wish you a good day!"-Kurapika no longer remembered the last time someone wished him a good day in the morning.

8 pm, another day had passed. If Neon's attitude hadn't improved since the beginning of her therapy, Kurapika had no idea if he would still put up with her whims. Whoever worked for her without attempting against her life was a saint. However, his crusade hadn't ended yet, remote from that. The advantage of that specific job brought was being able to maintain close contact with the flesh trafficking industry. Kurapika was finally exiting through the vast gate of the Nostrade mansion. Being able to get to work on his vendetta again.

"Kurapika!"- a voice he knew fully squealed. He turned in the direction it came from, to make sure it wasn't a dream. He had his suspicions about working for Neon for so long that it gave him some variety of brain damage. Luckily not. It was (Y/n), running towards his direction, nearly stumbling in the middle of the path. If they were coming to him like that, something serious must have happened.

"(Y/n)! What are you doing here?! What happened?! Aren't you supposed to be on guard? Why didn't you call me? "-the blonde interrogated packed with worry.

They were panting laboriously, as they inclined on their legs to catch their breath and raised their index asking for a moment.

"I'm presumably to be on my pause, plus you weren't answering your cell phone..."-their face was darker due to the lack of oxygen-"I received information regarding a pair."- they murmured to be prudent. To avoid malicious overhears, they continued their chat in the car.

"I had a proposal from an acquaintance to purchase a pair of scarlet eyes!

The only setback is that it has to be tonight because he has another interested. For my part, with the ward, I'm available. I told the nurses that I would use my recess and would be back."- It was explicit that (Y/n) had already taken charge of organizing the plan so that it could be implemented immediately.-"Reasonably, I haven't confirmed the purchase yet. As the principal concerned I judged proper to tell you first."

"This is a fabulous opportunity, thank you (Y/n). Confirm our attendance."

It was agreed that the purchase would take place at 9 o'clock, In a black market shop located in YorkNew's downtown. The pair would cost 1,450,000 Jennys.

Although the connections and information of (Y/n) were trustworthy and had been valuable until the present day, Kurapika still wanted more information regarding the plan. He wanted to prioritize their safety.

"Where do you know the individual from?"- Kurapika hinted, trying to obtain information without directly doubting the references.

"I have... I've purchased articles from him before. I am a frequent customer, he maintains me abreast of his inventory as well as offers."- they informed.-"In those commerces, information travels at great speed. As I've been seeking information on the scarlet eyes, he found out."-He could then conclude it was a credible provider.

Since the dilemma was solved, he could ease a bit.-"In the first instance, when I listened to your voice, I believed I was hallucinating, and working for Neon for a prolonged amount of time had caused me brain damage!"-Kurapika laughed

"Oh! But it's plausible."-they did not understand it was merely a joke-"Chronic Stress produces autophagia in neural stem cells. Normally autophagia is a process to protect cells from unfavorable conditions through the digestion of inner cell materials. However, under certain circumstances, this survival method degenerates into self-destruction. Essentially, the neural cells commit suicide, concluding in brain damage. Plus, chronic stress enhance the risk of neurodegenerative diseases like Alzheimer's disease."-It sometimes was bothersome to date a psychiatrist...-"Even if it was only a pun, I'm a tad concerned about you, Kurapika."-At the end, they got the joke, they were just being a doctor.

Kurapika couldn't decide whether to be frustrated for his joke or flattered that (Y/n) cared so much about him.

At the accorded place an hour, they entered the shop. An old man with big glasses and a suit greeted them.

"Mx. (Y/n)! It's always pleasant to see one of my favorite customers!"-his voice was croaky and rusty.-"I'm glad you accepted the offer."

The elder was very polite towards (Y/n).

"Helle Mr. Richard, I may say the same. I brought Kurapika with me, my bodyguard,"-the same strategy as the previous times.-" he will accompany us."

"A pleasure to meet you, Mr.Kurapika."-the rusty voice spoke once more.-"Since we are dealing with a more elegant object, it is stored in the back room. Be so kind to accompany me there."- the so-named Richard pointed at a big wooden door at the back of the store as he directed it.

He opened the door for them after they were all inside, closed the door again. Richard sat at the end of a big ornamented oak desk. There were also oak chairs with padding on the other side of the desk. The man motioned for them to sit down. He continued to pull out the vials with the pair of scarlet eyes.

"Both of you can confirm that they are authentic. And the agreed price was 1,450,000 Jennys"-The white-haired senior placed the vials in the middle of the table and reached out his hand, waiting for the money.

(Y/n) took out of their customary side-bag an envelope to deliver it with both hands. The elder took it and pulled out the cash and began to count. All the actions were carried upon the table and in the view of all presents.

"Everything is perfect, as always. Thanks, always a pleasure to do business with you Mx-"

The sentence was interrupted by a loud crash.

The wooden door had been knocked down, and a group of armed men began to enter the place. With the loud noise (Y/n) swiftly took the vials with the scarlet eyes and pressed them protectively.

"What is happening here, what is this intrusion into my establishment?!"-Richard exclaimed, his voice sounding even rustier.

"These two attacked one of the associates some time ago."- One of the men, presumably the head of the gang, spoke. He had a sloppy beard and reeked of cheap tobacco. He also had a disastrous taste for fashion. He wore a tacky shirt with half the buttons unbuttoned, garish orange fishnets that didn't match at all, and a vulgar red hanky that was sticking out of his shirt's pocket.

"Both of you, don't move. The information runs around here."-the men approached to talk directly to Kurapika and (Y/n).-"We learn that a pale man with blond straight hair wearing a suit and a (skin/color) person with (hair color) (curly/wavy/straight) hair who dressed pretentiously with flowers, both searching for scarlet eyes, attacked one of our sellers. What do you think, we were not going to find you?"-the pestilence was even more intense up close.-"The boss is not far away. You'll see, duo of idiots."

The situation was complicated, Kurapika couldn't use most of his chains if it wasn't against the Spiders. (Y/n) could only use Misericordiae, since they did not know the attackers adequately to use their distinct technique. Plus with the one they had available, they couldn't kill. There was the possibility of a melee attack. Only it was the least viable option. Kurapika would have to use his scarlet eyes or (Y/n) use their feline form. It involved putting their identities in jeopardy, and they still didn't know if the circumstance was desperate to get to that point. The best choice was to divert the group of men to head to the window and jump to escape. The reversal was that to minimize the damage from the shattered glass, they would have to shield themselves with both arms.

"(Y/n), leave the eyes. I'll use my Dowsing Chain to move the enemies aside and leave by the window."-Kurapika bossed after a moment of reflection. It was still the option with the highest probability of success.

"No, these eyes belong with you. I'm not leaving without them."-(Y/n) growled. They had a look of pure completion, almost as if that judgment contained all their credos compressed.-

Kurapika couldn't avoid conjuring "This is the worst moment to unleash their stubbornness."-"(Y/n), listen to me!"-he was starting to lose his patience.

"No! I have an approach. Trust me please."-(Y/n) glanced down at their left hand, laced with white ribbon. It was gradually diffusing across the carpet.

Before any action could be taken, a man, much properly dressed-The leader of the deluded men's ball, most likely.- entered the room yelling with a deep crusty voice and a foreign intonation.

"Okay pack of idiots. That in the end, you did your silly duty. Where are the two rats?".-The man was flat and plump. He was middle-aged, with a round face, almost bald. He was dressed in a semi-formal, dark gray suit: he wore a geometric patterned tie and matching tissue in his vest's pocket. He entered taking big steps and turned to Kurapika and (Y/n).

At the moment he saw them, his eyes widened, and voiced full of shock.

"(Y/n)?!"

#kurapika imagine #kurapika #hunter x hunter #kurapika kurta #kurapika hxh #hxh #hxh x reader #kurapika kurta x reader #kurapika x reader #hxh scenarios

20 notes · View notes

cbspams · 4 years ago

Text

Well, well, what do we have here?

You quivered in front of him, wrists straining against the strangely strong, thin threads. You had always seen that smile, glowing and happy and sweet. Filled with kindness and cheer. Only now it was a twisted kind of joy and delight. You whimpered, shaking your head. “Please, don’t do this.”

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head about it. This was meant to happen you know, ever since I saw you I knew I wanted you to be mine.” He smiles wider and you cower away. He hums, delighted by your reaction. Yes, this is how it should be. How it was meant to be.

You sob, struggling as much as you could, feeling the bite of thread into your skin. He chuckled. So what if you bleed a little? You’d be bleeding a lot but the time he was through with you.

Oh you’d be so pretty, threaded and strung up. He’d make sure to be extra careful with you, pouring just a little bit of power in at a time so he could figure out what your limits were. He didn’t want you to explode after all! You were way too pretty for that. “You’ll look so pretty together, I just can’t wait!”

Together. You turn your head slightly to the side, trying to see through your tears. Another person sits propped up next to you, hood drawn over their head. Unlike you they hadn’t tried at all to escape or break the strings that threaded around them. Were they even awake? Alive? You couldn’t tell at all.

The puppeteer hummed softly as he took your hand, thumbs massaging over your palm then tracing up to your finger tips. “Did you know, if you slice off your finger from here, it’ll grow back just fine?” He taps the very tips of your fingers.

You shake your head, begging softly. “Please don’t please let me go.”

He clicks his tongue and pulls out a roll of thread that shimmers, silvery. It radiates power, which is exactly how you know it’s trouble. Then he pulls out a needle, thick. You whimper again, trying to tug your hands back from his grip but he’s too strong. Ah but he has to let go to thread the needle. He hums while guiding the thread, focused enough to ignore you for a bit.

You have to escape. Somehow, someway. You can’t just let this happen to you. So you swallow, letting the last of your tears run. Okay, you can do this. When he reaches for your hand again, you take a deep breath and slam it forward, against his chest. He’s sturdy enough and it feels like you’re hitting a wall but it’s just enough surprise for him to fall backwards with a soft “oof!” You jump to your feet and dart forward, slamming open the door and sprinting down the hallway. You don’t even know where you are but there’s gotta be somewhere to hide right?

You end up tucking yourself into a dark room, filled with miscellaneous odds and ends. Trying to make yourself as small as possible yet ready to run at a moment’s notice, you crouch behind some sheet covered object, just enough that if someone looked in the room they wouldn’t immediately see you.

You have to think: why is this happening? What did you do to deserve this? Whatever, that’s a thought for later. You strain your ears, trying to catch anything that might alert you to him.

But rather than footsteps or cheery singing as you’ve come to know him, you hear clattering. It’s quiet but it’s definitely there, the sound of... something hitting the floor. They’re uneven, wobbly you might even think. Are they footsteps? No... His puppets are always dressed. And he himself is a lot louder than this.

You suck in a breath and hold it as the door opens with the eeriest creak you’ve ever heard. The clattering continue, into the room and around the first area. You squeeze your eyes shut and hide as best as you can, pressing against the wall.

“Didja find them yet?” His voice rings out high and clear.

“N-no. Not yet.” This voice is much more neutral although still sadistically light hearted. A muted kind of delight? It doesn’t sound human either, a low crackling you’ve never heard a human voice get even close to sounding like. “But th-they’re here. S-somewhere.”

“Oooh!” He gasps. “Can you sense them or something?”

“Not them. I c-can sense y-you and your p-power.” Whoever it is takes another step towards you. Oh god are you going to have to try and fight both of them? Can you?

“I’m impressed! I didn’t pour very much power or will into those threads yet cause they were drilled in. Guess even all that time can’t wash away true crafting genius!” You hear him shuffling around, poking some objects. “Jeez, I haven’t seen this place in ages. Guess the old man had more up his sleeve than I thought!”

“M-master was always v-very busy.” Another step. You brace yourself.

“Yeah well it didn’t stop him from kicking the bucket.” He huffs, kicking something.

You know this might not be the smartest thing to do but striking first at least gives you the advantage of suprise. You burst out of your little corner, knocking into the one closest and then sprinting around, surprising the other enough that he misses catching you with a fall that you might consider comical if not for the fact that this is all terrifying and you want out. Now.

You end up sprinting into a dead end. A hallway that ends with a window, showing you’re on the highest floor of an ancient mansion. If you fall from here you’ll surely die, and you can’t run back the way you came.

You watch with wide eyes as he comes into view at the end of the hallway, a spring in his step. “My goodness you gave me a scare there! But it’s all okay, life’s not fun without a little scare here and there~”

The other person looms behind him except... your eyes widen even more. That’s not a person. There are dark cracks all along their porcelain white skin, some particularly large on their cheeks and around their neck. Smaller ones branch out, seemingly getting wider with every step they take. Is that what you’ll become if you get caught here? A broken doll?

Wait. Not completely broken. Despite the fact this doll looks like it should be completely falling apart, they’re not. There’s a silver glimmer in the cracks... where have you seen that before...

Oh. The threads. The ones that are currently tightening around your wrists and slicing into your skin, making you bleed. There must be some kind of power being fed into the doll to make it move and to fix it.

“Jeez, keeping up both of you is wearing me out.” He laughs, strolling towards you without a care in the world. “I only have so much willpower you know!”

“S-s-sorry.” The doll trails behind, even more eerie now that they’re right next to him.

“Nah, it’s cool. Keeps it fun!” He giggles. You glance back. You’ll probably die if you fall but...

There. There’s a little balcony a couple floors down. If you can slide onto it you can live and make it out.

You swallow. God this is going to hurt. But you look up at him, Han Jisung with his glowing smile, and at the doll with their growing curiosity and you know this is what you have to do.

“Well now, let’s get started, shall we Felix?”

“It’ll b-be easy. It doesn’t h-hurt. Much.”

You take a deep breath. Stare straight at them. Grin smugly at their confused looks. “Get fucked.”

And you jump.

#halloween event #story: puppeteer #story: marionette #blood tw

46 notes · View notes

softboyscully · 5 years ago

Text

Public School Stuff I Wanted to Share

public school is both beautiful and horrifying am i right

so ill just go by the grades i guess

Kindergarten, first year

i did kindergartden at a catholic school in a relativly big city so this one’s got some shit

we went to church every wednesday, me and best friend (lost track of her when we moved, wish we’d stayed in touch, she was awesome) would giggle the whole time, pretty sure we made fun of jesus once, can’t remember why, possibly the hair

i had the nicest teacher, she was (as i remember her) young, blonde, and super sweet, that was the first and last year i ever had naptime

SPEAKING of naptime

i never slept during it

once i found what i remember being a nut of some sort on the ground, probably came off someone’s shoe

i grab it, turn to sarah (my best friend), say something about putting it up my nose

sarah, apparently having common sense, says, “no dont do it!! we’re supposed to be sleeping!!”

i put it up my fucking nose

try to get it out, just push it farther in

im crying a little bit now, that shit hurts

go up to my teacher

“you’re supposed to be asleep!”

“i have a nut up my nose and it wont come out”

teacher tries to get it out, but it wont budge

just. sends me back to my mat

that was it

the art room was tiny

like re-purposed broom closet tiny

there was a copy of the mona lisa in the hallway, someone had drawn ray bans on it with a pencil, never got replaced

there was a creepy-ass basement i went down to after school, we ate cheeseballs and sandwiches with some kind of meat, mayo, and that kinda yellow bread

someone broke his leg down there once, think an older kid threw him at the ceiling or something

we learned how to play Silver Bells with actual bells in music class

Kindergarten, second year

i remember these two teachers as the evil step sister-type look, but it might be my little kid imagination

but seriously they were horrible

we learned stuff in a room that was more middle-school styled, except everything was green or black and it was v dark

me and sarah attained a new friend, john

honestly i think we would’ve stayed friends for a while if i didnt move away

i have two vivid memories

one is of me really wanting to go home, so i walked by the teacher’s desk and did a fake sneeze

they laughed at me and told me to go sit back down

the other is john leaning his chair back and then falling, so me and sarah went to help him back up

it was funny, so he did it again

and again

me and sarah were laughing, had the time of our lives

after the maybe fifth time the teachers said “john can get back up by himself. sit down and stay there.”

one of the reasons we moved was bc i got sent a letter from my fourth grade buddie

most of the words weren’t spelled correctly, many letters were backwards

my mother was horrified

ofc now we know it was probably a learning disability

1st grade

this is when i moved

beginning of school i was ASTOUNDED we didnt have uniforms, one of the best things ever to happen to me

nothing wrong with this teacher, she was cool

thing is i was a little shit

told everyone my dogs died (they did but i was maybe three when it happened, i remember it not)

all my personal narratives were bullshit (only one sticks in my memory, wrote it about celebrating christmas AND hanukkah with my dad’s friends who were jewish, i have never even met those friends)

had a crush on this kid, best friend (she was terrible and helped wreck me emotionally) told me to kiss him in music class. me being a stupid ass bitch, i did it, aND HE GOES TO THE TEACHER AND CALLS ME OUT. at the end of class she gets both of us to stay for a bit, AND I DENYIED EVERYTHING. i walked across the fucking classroom, kissed him on the cheek, ran away giggling, told my teacher i didn’t do anything, AND GOT AWAY WITH IT. i’ve embarrassed myself further with this child but thats another story

2nd grade

i loved this teacher but honestly he was absolute shit

like. all he did was play the guitar and sing with us

never actually taught us stuff???

middle of the year, my mom goes in for a parent-teacher conference, he tells her i dont pay attention is math.

“what do you mean?”

“she doesn’t listen, she just takes out a book and starts reading.”

“........have you.... tried taking the book away?”

“sure, i could try that.”

“o....kay”

he also told her i’d be a girl who’d grow up to love spellcheck (which i do lmao)

like ???? why not just??? teach me to spell????

there was this one dude who one day showed up, gave me a pink stuffed cat, and then asked me where i lived

funniest thing was he lived on the same street as me

something that is vivid in my memory is showing up to class one day and realizing that i was wearing my regular clothes over my pajamas

also we had fish

every day someone else was in charge of feeding them

one of the times it was my job, i grab the fish food and walk over to the tank only to find all of the fish floating on the top

i screamed “THE FISH CAN FLY?!?!?!?!?!”

everyone ran over, all of us scarred for life when Mr. G walks over and goes in the most normal voice ever “no theyre dead”

we held a funeral

the cause of death is still undetermined

3rd grade

this year just draws a blank for me

all i know is that whoever the teacher was, they neglected to teach me how to tell time from a clock

also we learned the Cotten Eyed Joe dance in gym around here

4th grade

i had two teachers this year

one was the same one from 1st grade, the other one was a total bitch

made a girl named hannah ball her eyes out once, never apologized

i was (and am) and avid reader, so my reading skills were high above average

instead of being proud of me she told me i was weird, not normal, and too smart for a 4th grader, so i MUST be cheating.

she was the start of a lot of self confidence issues for me ngl

this was around the time i went and got tested for ADHD (me and my grandmother almost broke down on the highway but thats another story), Mrs. M (the nice one) was super supportive when i told her why i was leaving early but Ms. S (bitch) told me ADHD wasn’t real and i just wanted to be special for once

she sucked, Ms. S

5th grade

this is getting super long so this’ll be the last one i do

but my teacher..... Mr. F was A+++++

he legitimately taught me math

we had i guess like,,, a buddie class we switched with sometimes

the teacher of that class was Mrs. R, who had crazy red hair and many freckles

at one point she referenced a meme and my entire class started screaming

also there was another Mrs. S (to differentiate this one will be called Mrs. Su)

she was kind of crazy

she was the astronomy teacher and she told us many times that the moon landing was faked

once she handed out sunscreen and had everyone put it on their whole body (this was in december, fyi)

Mr. F also hosted an ‘archeological dig’ which sounds cool but in reality he had a bunch of arcade prizes from his childhood buried in little flower pots we dug into with plastic spoons

also heres some stuff i cants pinpoint the time of/happened in multiple grades:

someone held a who-can-scream-the-most-like-a-goat contest

a guy named Makenzie won

remember we planned it while the teacher left the classroom so the teacher walks back in and one by one everyone in the room starts screaming, there was some applause, a few kids got a standing ovation

we cleaned out our desks in the middle of the year, i found 3 socks and a dog treat in mine

like how the fuck did any of those things get there

and where’s the fourth sock

b o t t l e f l i p p i n g

but no seriously there were at least five water bottles stuck in the ceiling in the cafeteria

my sorta friend charlie was obsessed with paper airplanes

one time he might’ve broken the world record for longest time in the air but he was counting in his head and it was at recess so there was no video

four square and gaga ball would be played no matter the setting, time, or conditions and it was super competitive

like if you could get to king in four square you got the everlasting respect of everyone

and everyone was super educated on four square special rules, special plays, that kinda shit

no but guys i grew up with bus stop, candy store, haunted house on mondays, haunted mansion on fridays, zombies was fair game unless it was Zach, Ryan, Chrissy or Vee

me and one other guy named andrew were the only known pjo fans, had the time of our LIVES making refrences

“HEY ANDREW IM NOBODY”

“I HAVE WAITED YEARS FOR YOU, NOBODY, COME HERE AND FACE YOUR DEATH”

“hey annabeth, i thought you looked like a princess when i first saw you. i printed out a picture you sent me casually and kept it with me. i snuck along on a quest so i could save you, endangering myself immensely. i held the sky for you. when you talk about your crush on luke, i get jealous. beckendorf understood, but hes dead.”

“ikr we’re literally the best of friends”

“RIGHT”

also the first time we finished mark of athena we were in the same classroom and we individually dropped the book, stood up, looked at each other, and screamed “WELL FUCK YOU TOO RICK RIORDAN”

#public school #percy jackson #percabeth #my childhood #you dont have to read this but i felt like posting it lol #if you've read this far #i applaud you #thanks for listening to my meaningless shit #im gonna be a comedian #school #school stories #adhd #kind of

71 notes · View notes