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jinwoosungs · 7 months

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{ 107 }

constellations.

lies of p

pinocchio x reader

{ with freckles like constellations | i just want a new sensation. }

- valentine by COIN

your eyes were basking in the beauty of the expanse of the universe settled directly on your lap.

pinocchio had always been a puppet that greatly fascinated you. an utterly beautiful boy in a strange, tragic world that drew you in. from his true blue eyes to his chestnut strands of hair, geppetto's puppet reminded you deeply of the princes you read in fairytales from long ago.

you were one of the few human survivors left in the wake of the petrification disease, and it was thanks to your good fortune that you were lead to hotel krat, where you met with the owner, lady antonia. she was a kind and giving, always welcoming guests like you with open arms.

and it was here that you came into contact with pinocchio.

he was twitchy, at first, and it was abundantly clear that he was a puppet. and despite how unnatural his movements were, your eyes were always drawn to his beautiful face.

his pale skin was littered with freckles, and each and every speck reminded you of tiny little stars being dotted across the skies. his gaze was steadfast, unflinching even, as you kept your eyes on him. you admired each and every part of him, even finding yourself reaching out to him.

pinocchio continues to give you a blank stare, not even stepping back when your hands unconsciously reaches out to gently grace at his cheek. you admire the soft and smooth surface of his face, allowing your fingertips to brush back his flowing locks of chestnut hair, revealing those endearing freckles.

finally realizing what you were doing, you gasp and attempt to step away. "s-sorry pinocchio...ah?"

he says nothing, simply closing his eyes before placing his cheek against the palm of your hand. you watch as pinocchio's eyes flutter close, his eyelashes brushing against your skin as soft as a butterfly's wings.

he remains in this position for a few more beats before opening his eyes fully. not saying a word, pinocchio relinquishes his hold of your hand before walking away from you-

leaving your heart a mess of rapid beats and palpitations, threatening to explode within your chest.

despite how pinocchio was a mere puppet, you couldn't stop yourself from admiring him (or having that admiration turn into something much deeper, akin to fondness.) as he continued on with his journey through krat, the more he became... alive.

it was hard to explain. maybe it was due to his soft beauty, or how you witness him treating hotel krat's cat with such a gentle curiosity and kindness, but something about p made him feel more human than puppet.

and that just made your heart yearn for him even more.

as night fell across krat, and you were in the comfort of your own room within this grand hotel, you found yourself unable to sleep. you were settled on the settee placed near the window, giving you the full view of the city and the wide expanse of the night sky. the dim lighting of the candle flickers with the night air as you drank in the sight of the fading stars, somehow feeling your thoughts drifting back to pinocchio.

"i hope he's safe."

earlier, you had voiced your concerns to eugénie and sophia, yet both women had told you not to worry, that p was strong and would likely come back unscathed.

"if it truly worries you, perhaps i can send your beloved puppet to your room?"

sophia's gentle smile and teasing words were enough to make your face heat up in response, with you weakly holding up your hands in mock denial before hurrying back to your room, your face burning at how sophia seemed to know.

so you found yourself unable to sleep, feeling embarrassed and shy at the thought of pinocchio coming in here.

as you continued to stargaze, your reveries were interrupted by a gentle knock at your door. your voice was raised a few octaves when you said, "c-come in!"

you figured it was sophia or eugénie coming to call you down for supper, but what you weren't expecting to see was pinocchio himself come in.

"pinocchio?!" his name comes out of your parted lips in a choked gasp, heart beating almost painfully now at the mere sight of him. despite how he was still technically a puppet, you could see the changes he was beginning to display.

the p that stood before you now no longer had those wavy locks of chestnut hair. instead, his hair has grown longer, and a bit lighter as well. it was difficult to describe the color of his hair, but if you had to try, you'd say it was like the shade of a full moon. those gentle strands shone like spun silver against the moonlight, and he was so utterly beautiful that you found it hard to breathe.

he closes his eyes, seeming to take in a deep breath before letting out a whisper of your name. hearing the familiar syllables causes a shiver to run up and down your spine, and you could feel your heart melting within your chest at the sound of it.

"hello pinocchio." you greet him in the same, gentle manner, never once hiding your smile from him. you watch as his lips seemed to quirk upwards just the tiniest bit before making his way toward you.

he remains silent, simply laying down on the couch with you, settling himself on your lap. this sudden action was so...different and unexpected that you weren't sure how to respond or what to do.

your stomach was in knots now, and all you could see was pinocchio's achingly gentle beauty. as his hair was spread out across your lap, you could see his freckles clearly now, the sight of it all being much more captivating than the stars above.

with the puppet seemingly asleep, you took this chance to admire your personal constellation, allowing your fingertips to trace over his smooth skin like you did during your first meeting with him. truly, everything about p drew you into him, and you wanted nothing more than to bask in him, drinking him in as you burned his very visage into your memories.

your touch was gentle, not wishing for him to feel any discomfort or pain.

your touch was reverent, never once taking him for granted as you praised him for his bravery and strength.

as you continued to admire him, you felt a strange trembling in your lips, filling you with a desire to press them against the parted, rosy lips settled below you. you slide your eyes shut and whisper his name before allowing your lips to gently press against pinocchio's.

his reaction was immediate, eyes opening as true blue irises met with your own gaze. with a gasp, you pull away, an apology already set at the tip of your tongue when the puppet stops you.

using his hand, he brushes back your hair while letting out a sigh of your name, kissing you again as he closes his own eyes in response.

with pinocchio kissing you back, you found yourself melting into his arms, clinging to him. the kiss was awkward, with your teeth either bumping into his lips or his nose meeting with yours-

and yet it was still so utterly sweet. as you cling to him, you could have sworn you felt the tiniest bit of warmth exuding from him-

and a gentle flutter within his chest, reminding you of a heartbeat.

when the need for air proved to be too much, you pull away from pinocchio with adoration in your eyes. his expression was gentle and filled with tranquility, closing his eyes before pressing his lips against your forehead.

while being in pinocchio's embrace, you found your anxieties all but melt away, allowing the pinpricks of slumber to mar your consciousness. you end up falling asleep within his arms, unaware of how pinocchio held you and took you to back to bed.

as he held you, he presses his lips against your temple once more, silently vowing to remain forever by your side.

a.n. - pinocchio is utterly sweet, and with lies of p fully released, i had to write something soft for him. this is unedited so do forgive me for any glaring errors 🥹

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.

#lies of p x reader #lies of p x you #pinocchio x reader #p x reader #lop x reader #.stories

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bloodbrown · 7 months

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Protective P x reader headcanons

• If you met P for the first time outside Hotel Krat, unarmed, he'd literally just grab you and haul ass back to safety. His goal here was just to protect an endangered citizen, but this is when you started to fall for him a little. As time passes he grows fond of you too.

• P instinctively wants to shield you. Compared to his own tall, reinforced steel body, your soft mortal body is basically like a daffodil. If the situation ever came to it, he would take any and all blows for you to keep you unharmed.

(And btw I don't know how tall he is but I've seen people estimate he's above 6'0", which is amazing and I support it.)

• even if you've gained proficiency with a weapon, P does noooot like the idea of you accompanying him outside the hotel. If you insist, he stays close by your side. He occasionally extends his legion arm, stopping you in your tracks, to safeguard you from any potential dangers. He probably equips Aegis just for this.

• if you're ever injured, P begins to lose his typically calm composure. He'd dash to your side to get you to safety as soon as possible, and you hear him utter your name with distress as he scoops you up. As he carries you back, you can hear that the rhythmic ticking of his mechanical heart is clearly faster than usual.

• the whole time you're recovering, P sits by your side. He shoots you one of his disapproving looks if you try to exert yourself before you've fully recovered. At least you know you're in good hands with your sweet puppet looking after you.

#lies of p #pinocchio #lies of p headcanons #lies of p x reader #p x reader #liesofp #pinocchio x reader #October 2023

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stargazed-bri · 2 months

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The first love union between a puppet and human

Love finds a way.

They respected him like a person. In return, he loved them like any other human.

based off 'The Kiss' by Gustav :) I wanted to get this done by Valentine's day but whooptie doo im slow

This game pisses me off sometimes but P is so bbg so idc 🌟

#lies of p #p x reader #lies of p pinocchio #pinocchio #pinocchio x reader #self ship #self insert #art

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esteljune · 3 months

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Kissing P headcanons [P x reader]

Don't expect him to take the initiative. Pinocchio is completely clueless about basic human gestures of affection, and that includes kissing.

The first time you try to kiss him, he'll probably just stand there, eyes wide open and awkwardly staring into yours as you get closer and closer to his face. He's just trying to figure out what you're trying to do.

He might even misunderstand and gently press his forehead against yours. Despite your embarrassment in the moment, Pinocchio will continue to gaze at your face, amazed by the languor in your eyes, the flush on your cheeks, and the reassuring warmth of your breath on his lips.

When he sees a smile forming on your lips, he'll relax considerably, and you might even notice a spark of tenderness in his eyes. But your first kiss will be nothing more than your lips pressed together.

Pinocchio is very receptive to your reactions, so he'll immediately notice the sudden increase in your pulse and the flush on your face. At that point, he'll start asking you disarmingly candid questions like "Your heart is beating fast... is it me?" totally unaware that he's only making things worse.

You might think you haven't had any effect on him, but in his chest, his mechanisms are ticking much faster than usual.

His lips, as well as the rest of his body, are extremely cold, so it's a sensation you might have trouble getting used to. However, his skin is quite soft, just like yours.

His scent is a curious blend of a faint metallic smell of mineral oils and a earthy aroma of musk. Curiously, it's not unpleasant, but it's still something very special that sets him apart and that you'll end up loving dearly.

Over time, as he gains humanity, Pinocchio will seek more and more moments of intimacy with you, both to enjoy the obvious effect his presence has on your body, and because it allows him to discover things about himself that he didn't believe were possible.

Each time your lips meet, his body will react more and more openly to your touch. The warmth of your breath, the unmistakable feeling in your eyes, and your fingers clutching his chest will make his mechanical heart beat painfully fast.

Gradually, he will start to close his eyes to give himself completely to you. His arms will return your embrace, and his kisses will begin to be more conscious and deep.

He may even forget that you need to breathe, starting to kiss you in rapid succession, whispering "More." on your lips between one kiss and the next, leaving you completely breathless.

The warmth of your skin is extremely familiar and comforting to him, so he will melt with every kiss, not only on the lips, but also on the nose and the freckles that dot his face.

#I need to stop writing these it's too much fluff for my poor heart #lies of p #lies of p pinocchio #lies of p headcanon #lies of p fanfic #lies of p x reader #p x reader #pinocchio x reader #pinocchio #lies of p headcanons #liesofp #lies of p game #lop #My writing

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prismatic-starstuff · 5 months

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Things to expect as Pinocchio becomes more human...

Eyes gazing longingly at your food, as his body makes sounds that even he hadn't realised he was capable of making. When you eventually realise that his stomach(?) is rumbling and offer him some food... this man practically inhales it, all wide-eyed, meticulously sucking his fingers clean as if he doesn't want to let even a drop go to waste. ...And then he goes back to gazing longingly at your food—

Still on the subject of food: now that he has firsthand experience of it, he wants to start making it for you. He thinks it's a wonderful thing, this stuff that allows people to live and be nourished; and so he wants to make things that you like (and that will allow you to live and be nourished.)

Jokes. ...Maybe they're not great jokes at first; as he starts to develop a sense of humour, he starts at the beginning, and even the most basic and obvious and awful puns absolutely send him into fits of helpless laughs. And so he tries to tell his own; they're not great, but they're extremely cute.

Honestly, when it comes to things like aches and pains and feeling sick, he's... really quite scared at first. He'll approach with wide and teary eyes, expressing that he doesn't know what's happening to him. (Please give him lots of cuddles and reassurances that it's a normal part of human life and that he's not going to die.)

At first, as he gets more used to emotions, he may just... cry. Or burst out into laughter. Or feel very, very frightened. All for seemingly no reason. He's feeling these things more strongly now than he ever has before, and it's not something that he was used to, so he feels everything so much; it definitely takes some getting used to for him.

With this in mind: he becomes extra aware of your emotions. Not that he didn't care before, of course; but now that he understands emotions firsthand, and has personally experienced how bad the negative ones can feel, he's always on the lookout to reassure you and comfort you if he thinks you're not feeling happy.

A heartbeat. Not the occasional gentle mechanical pulse of his P-Organ, but something that for all the world sounds and feels like a genuine heartbeat. If you like to listen to it, he's more than happy to lay with you for as long as you like, fingers gently stroking through your hair.

His body becomes more sensitive. You may notice his breath hitching if your fingers brush his neck while playing with his hair... you may notice how he seems to melt into your warmth when you cuddle him... and you will absolutely notice how he'll squirm and practically cackle if you tickle him.

Smiles. They're tiny and soft at first; just barely there, a little quirk of his lips. He stares a lot - that unblinking stare only a puppet could do - and he stares at you in particular very often; and it becomes more and more common for his lips to just... curve up... slow and sweet... into the loveliest little smiles when you're together or when he's looking at you or when he's thinking about you.

But above all else... what you can always expect from Pinocchio is his kindness, his compassion, his care, his support, and his love. He's given you all of this from the get-go, and he'll give you all of it for as long as you're together; and nothing would please him more than for that to be forever.

#lies of p #lies of p pinocchio #lop pinocchio #pinocchio x reader #p x reader #my writing

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anonymergremlin · 7 months

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Types of hugs

As promised, another piece of my thoughts and headcanons. This time about the gestures we learn in the game. I got really curious after receiving this one gesture after reading a certain sad letter. Is our boy learning from them? Is he curious about human gestures? Who knows.

Anyway, gender-neutral this time. For all you lovely people out there.

I hope you enjoy it and please forgive me for any mistakes. I am just a silly gremlin.

A heavy rainstorm rattled through the floors. Turning the once silent night into a restless one, keeping some of Hotel Krat souls awake. Step by step they approached the hotel's library. Perhaps a good book would help them through such a stormy night. Their fingers curled around the handle of the door. Slowly they opened it. To their surprise they were greeted by a brightly lit room. Another soul must have found its way into the library. "Oh... I didn't think anyone else would -" they stopped their own words as the other person came into view. It wasn't just anyone from the other residence, no, it was the puppet. Geppeto's puppet. The young man stood beside one of the many bookshelves. Fingers running through pages. He seemed to be quite concentrated on the writings.

“P?”.

As his name left their lips, he immediately turned. For a moment his porcelain face looked so blank, but it changed so quickly. The softest smile of all covered his face, his blue eyes lit up and his freckles almost seemed to shine like stars. It was impressive how much he had changed, he really had become more human.

"Have you found something interesting, my dear puppet? Would you like to show it to me?"

They took a few steps to close the distance between them, close enough for a quick glance at the book. To their surprise, P's finger pointed to a particular word.

Hug.

"Are you curious about hugs, P?" they asked him, eyes moving from the book to his blue eyes. He nodded. It wasn't unusual for him to be interested in human gestures. They had seen him mimic some of those described in books or letters before. Once he even mimicked a painting of a knight, his rapier close to his chest, the blade pointed to the sky, his back straight and a proud smile on his face. It was an amusing sight that brought a smile to their face.

"Well, my dear P, there are many kinds of hugs. You could say that one type of hug is never the same as another". They moved one of their hands up, raising their index finger like a teacher giving an important lesson. "In general, you can hug a person to show them that they are welcome, but you can also hug someone to say 'thank you'. You see? A hug can mean two completely different things." His mouth opened slightly and his eyes blinked, indicating his understanding. "A hug can also be a gesture of consolation. For example, when you see someone crying. You can go up to them and hug them, hoping that by doing that, you're going to comfort them through their sadness." For a moment, they stopped themselves and thought of all the people out there who deserve to be hugged. To have just the slightest bit of comfort in their lives. From the look on P's face, they had a feeling that the puppet probably had the same feeling.

They shook their heads, trying to rid their mind of the thought of Krat's sad state. The people must continue to look forward to a better future. They brought their thoughts back to the hugs. With a slight blush, they remembered another important kind of hug.

"There's also... the kind of hug that lovers do," they said, almost whispering the words out of a slight sense of embarrassment. A fine blush rose to their cheeks as they thought about it more clearly. "Lovers hug as a gesture of their love. They embrace each other, body to body, to feel each other's warmth. Wishing they never have to let go." Their eyes closed for a second, imagining the feeling of someone holding them like that. Two hands gently touching their backs, arms wrapped around their frame and a chin resting softly on one of their shoulders. The thought alone left a good feeling in their chest, but to their surprise, it seemed to come from a real source. Eyes opened to find themselves in a hug. Two hands gently resting on the small of their back, arms carefully wrapped around their frame and a chin tucked between their neck and shoulder. P hugged them like a lover. He put just a tiny bit of pressure on them to pull them closer to him, wrapping his arms a little more around their frame and hiding his head in their neck.

They had only just told him about this kind of hug, but he was already imitating it so perfectly. And they knew from the softness and gentleness of his touch that he was serious about what the hug was saying.

Perhaps it wasn't a book that they needed in order to find comfort on this stormy night. Perhaps it is simply the hug of the person they love that they need.

#lies of p #lies of p x reader #pinocchio x reader #p x reader #gender neutral reader #i really like this one #curious and open-minded p #lies of p really inspires me

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mahirublue · 2 months

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A little something for you guys 💖

#p x reader #p x oc #lies of p #lies of p game #lies of p pinocchio #lies of p fanart #pino #this is currently my lock screen wallpaper and its so cute 🥺💖#p x y/n

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milli-string · 2 months

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POV: You helped P raise his humanity level, but at a much faster pace in the most strangest of ways. But, at what cost?

You get the horndog doge meme bonk. *bonk bonk bonk bonk*

And myself-- *bonk*

cw: suggestive / slightly spicy (?)

*bonks you again*

Tee hee.

Okay, it'll be a while for another mild spice. Unless people want more. Anyway, enjoy! Much love and kisses to the Lies of P community and my new friends! Never stop loving the game, and never stop loving your puppet boy!

#lies of p #lies of p fanart #pinocchio #spinspinspinspinspinspinspin #lies of p pinocchio #for those who are interested #lies of p x reader #p x reader

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phonydiaries · 7 months

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Target Practice - P x Reader

Warnings: reader getting the absolute shit kicked out of them by enemies and a significant amount of blood and violence. Other than that, nothing I think?

---

The cold hard clang of your steel blade hitting the marble column rings through the courtyard.

Off target.

You’re fucking off target, again.

You step back, try to redistribute the weight of the weapon in your hands. Your palms are sweaty, your grip becoming loose and clumsy. You blink hard, eyes trained on the dummy. Somehow in its blank expression you see pity. Mockery. The knowledge that for all your effort, it's not enough.

You’re not strong enough.

Anger rises to a rolling boil in the pit of your stomach. You slash the dummy across its felted chest. It’s a poor hit, sloppy and devoid of form. You’ve been at this for hours, hacking away fruitlessly in the courtyard. You wince and bring a hand to quell the stinging pain in your side. Under your clothes you know the skin is still raw; all rust-colored and lacerated. It was that very wound which led you to this obsessive over-exertion in the first place.

Three nights past you had very nearly perished in the arms of Gepetto’s puppet.

In your half-conscious delirium, you hardly remember all the details of the mission gone impossibly wrong. You and P had stalked into the night together, watching each other's backs carefully. There were the typical dust-ups, mundane scrapes and bruises and otherwise totally expected snags. None of this phased you, it was standard fare. But somewhere in the now fluid and tenuous events of that night, you got careless. You must’ve. How else would you find yourself backed into a corner, disarmed, swarmed by a legion of damnable automatons. This piece of the memory is both vivid and obscured, bits and pieces of sensation overwhelming in their clarity and others entirely lost to you. You have no idea how many times you were struck or with what manner of weaponry.

You recall curling in on yourself on the ground, arms twisting above your head in a desperate attempt at self preservation. And then all at once there was a mad chaos surrounding you. The air crackled with electricity, brazen sparks of light, the smell of smoke, a horrible crunch of faulty machinery. Your head pulsed dully as a cold arm slipped around your torso and heaved you upright. White hot pain shot through your body and you cried out in the darkness. Your eyes wavered open long enough to catch P, looking as grim as you had ever seen him, carefully scooping you up, your legs dangling limp over his human arm.

The journey to Hotel Krat was one which you were almost certain you would not live to see the end of. For starters, your hands and feet had gone utterly numb, probably thanks to the outpouring of blood from your abdomen, which ran thick and viscous down the front of P’s shirt as he carried you. The parts of your body that could still feel throbbed with a terrible searing pain and you longed for a spell of unconsciousness. This was in fact soon to come, after a ghastly cough which left the metallic taste of iron in your mouth and even more bloodstains on your poor companion’s clothes. As your vision faded you only mumbled to him,

“Sorry… Oh God, I’m sorry…”

You were bedridden for the better half of two days, floating in and out of consciousness like a specter. Flashes of things from that night, dreamlike and watery, come back to you, pilling at the edges of your mind. P bursting through the doors of Krat in a frenetic panic, your head lolling against his chest, your body shivering relentlessly from loss of blood. The marble floors of the hotel were stained a deep crimson. You recall Sophia rushing to meet you both, communicating with P in some way you couldn’t understand either due to the nonverbal nature of it or of the way your head swam every time you opened your eyes. Somehow you were brought to your room, and faintly recall the dressing of your wounds, a feeling of coolness on your forehead, some herbal concoction being held to your mouth, its contents warm and sweet.

Though most of those days were spent in a deep and cavernous slumber, when you were lucid enough to open your eyes, to perceive the room around you, you’re certain that Pinocchio had never left your side. With each foggy fragment, there he knelt at your bed; brows knitted and hands clasped over his mouth as he leaned forward on his elbows. A thoughtful intensity had overcome him, and in this posture, he seemed almost to be praying.

He doesn’t know what to do with me. You thought to yourself. He knows now how easily I’m broken.

In the brief moments Pinocchio could be pulled from your side, Sophia took gentle inspection and inventory of your condition. In one such instance you suddenly found yourself tearful, frustration and guilt wracking the whole of your being. Sophia attempted comfort and assured you it was not out of weakness that you had landed yourself bleak and bloodied in this bed, that it wasn’t a fair fight, that this could’ve happened to anyone. But it didn’t. It happened to you. You who were charged to accompany Pinocchio in all his ventures. You who were meant to be his trusted companion, his ally, his protector when it was required of you. He was made of magic after all, and you were only a mere human. Expendable. You’d failed him.

Yesterday was the first time you had even managed to stand since it all happened. You walked barefoot in pyjamas through the hotel, searching for P in silence. The cold marble is a shock to the soles of your feet and you wrap your arms around yourself at the draft that ripples beneath the loose fitting silk sleepclothes. When you finally catch sight of him in the library tucked between the towering shelves, your throat goes completely dry and tight. Your eyes feel glassy. You can’t face him knowing how he last saw you, making a fool of yourself. A sorry excuse for a soldier.

That evening it was impossible to bring yourself to dream. Thoughts ruminated, their thorned and gnarled roots delving deep into the recesses of your restless sleep. In the darkness, you change clothes and take your weapons from their holding place and head for the garden. You wanted to blow off steam at first, just clear your head. But as you night crept slowly into dawn, hues of blue and indigo shifting into a brilliant orange, here you still stood. Haggard and weary in the garden with callouses burning into your palm. Fixation on failure had poisoned you.

You were exhausted. The wear of such exercise would’ve been present even in your normal physical condition, but the presence of deep yellowing bruises and disrupted gashes along your limbs made it all the more wretched. You would not allow your body even a moment of peace. How could you quit now? How when your mind still ran rampant and relentless?

You glare at the dummy before you with pointed bitterness. With a groan you slice wildly across its throat, and the lifeless head tumbles into the grass. Your shoulders slump forward at the weight of your sword. You stare at the head, rolling to a stop. Hair falls over your eyes in an unkempt curtain and you find it difficult to catch your breath. Some stalker I am. You think to yourself.

You’re drawn out of the ever-tangled web of self-pity by a feeling of being watched. You throw a glance over your shoulder, and there he is. Your trusted Pino.

You feel sick.

At the knowledge of his presence, you straighten up your posture and readjust your clothes. It’s pointless, you know, but still. You don’t want him seeing you like this. You attempt to coolly smooth your hair back and acknowledge him with a nod, not knowing what to say. The two of you stand, shifting your weights awkwardly, in a permeating silence.

P is the first to attempt conversation, pointing in the direction of your bedroom, his face portraying confusion.

“Ah. I’m fine now.” You lie, poking absentmindedly at the ground with your weapon. “Sophia gave me some… something or other. I’m right as rain.”

P doesn’t look convinced, and he shouldn’t be. You were knocking on Death's door not 48 hours ago. You hadn’t forgotten he was the one to lug your delirious self for miles, pale and languid and spurting blood. It's a service for which you’re afraid he can never be repaid. He reaches for your hand, but you flinch away. His eyes flash with something deeply sad and your heart crumbles.

You’re being cruel.

But you can’t accept his help anymore; he can’t keep offering you these undeserved kindnesses. You want to say sorry, not just for swatting him away, but for everything. For not being more careful, for causing him so much worry, for putting both your lives at risk. But you don’t. Instead you turn your back to him and kick up dirt.

“You can just go back inside, P.”

Your face feels hot and you wonder if you’re really going to cry with him still standing there. As salty tears pool at the corner of your eye, you feel a sharp prick in your back. You yelp and whip your head around to find P now equipped with his rapier, holding it to your back. You lift your sword reflexively in return.

“I’m not in the mood for-” You start, but are cut off as he crosses his weapon with yours. Your eyes scan from the hilt of his rapier to meet his eyes, which narrow at you. The corner of his mouth is lifted just barely in an inviting and appetitive smirk. You resist returning the look, which disappoints him. You give in just a little and draw your weapon to his chest. Now his expression is broken into a full blown boyish smile. It’s almost enough to lure you out of yourself. Almost.

The duel begins between the two of you at a crawling pace; there’s a kind of thoughtfulness to your movements. You size one another up as if this were the first time your swords had crossed and not an uncountable thousandth. Your steps are in orbit with each other, methodical, calculated. His gaze is unrelenting and makes something in your chest twinge.

You catch even yourself off guard by striking first, but of course he’s able to parry it easily, shaking the rhythm of your movement. He slashes back at you and your blade catches his, just barely, as it slides away with a ring. A minute inkling of pride swells in you.

You’re surprised at how quickly things between the two of you seem to realign; it’s all in an ebb and flow, but it's good. It’s real, this energy you feel in practice with him.You’re struck suddenly with the thought that the simple act of sparring could never feel so -you can’t think of a better word for it than- spiritual with anyone but him. The bond you’ve cultivated, held and protected between yourselves is inimitable, ritualistic in a sense. A private and intimate practice between you and he.

By the time the sun descends into the horizon, casting its shadows deep across the garden walls, the two of you have succeeded in making an absolute mess of the space and of yourselves. The dummies have become innocent casualties to the line of fire, and several rose bushes hang limply in ribbons, their crimson petals strewn about carelessly. As for you; your hair is whipping across your face, clothes rumpled. You’d both thrown off your coats a while ago, the practice making you sweat. You move wildly in tandem with the puppet, each of you equally stubborn not to crack. It was endearing, you had to admit, the competitive streak in your trusted companion. But your iron will would win out in the end.

At the very edge of the courtyard where two walls meet, you face P, your mouth set sternly in a straight line, brow furrowed in concentration. You’ve been waiting for him to falter this whole time. Unfortunately as a puppet he seems far less prone to such follies as a mere mortal like yourself. However, he’s also less accustomed to common human tricks. With only the tiniest bit of guilt, you widen your eyes and drop your jaw, gesturing behind the boy in front of you. You watch his immovable expression twitch and his eyes follow the sharp line of your finger.

And with that, your window is open.

With a well timed flick of your sword, you disarm your opponent, and his rapier clatters to the ground. The tip of your blade rests firmly at the center of his chest.

P’s head spins to look back at you, his face awash with betrayal. You can’t help smiling. It was so stupid, so juvenile, so unbelievably oldest-trick-in-the-book that you honestly can’t believe it worked. But that doesn’t matter. You’ve won.

P’s face drops and he shakes his head at your victory, but you see the glimmer of a grin beneath it all. He’s happy to see you like your old self again.

“Oh cheer up, poor puppet boy.” You say, a lilt in your voice. You inch forward and draw your weapon up to the collar of his shirt. It wilts at the touch of your sword and his pale freckled collarbone is just barely exposed. “Better luck next time.”

Your eyes flicker back to his face and you’re surprised to find it softened into an expression even you don’t recognize. It’s watery, shifty and an utter mystery to you. His attentions seem to play tug of war between you and your weapon. You quirk an eyebrow quizzically, but he offers you no answers. You feel something akin to annoyance towards him, as if he’s being purposefully coy with you. Almost absentmindedly, your blade draws an invisible thread away from the dip of his collarbones to his throat.

You watch, waiting for him to flinch. He doesn’t. Instead, the strait of his jaw settles against the blade of your sword. His eyes close and he looks as if he’s sinking into a warm embrace rather than cold hard steel. Despite the warmth of exertion, you feel a shiver run down your spine. A prickling curiosity rises in you. Experimentally, you tilt the blade gently against the square of his jaw. He lifts his chin in response, leaving his throat vulnerable to your will. The pieces click in your mind. It’s a display of trust; of total devotion. He’s putting himself in your hands, and you want to grasp at him greedily.

His beauty is intimidating, looking nothing short of an angel in the firelight of the setting sun. The orange glow bounces from your sword in a soft line that settles over his face, and the waning sunlight catches the edges of his pitch dark hair like a halo. Deep shadows of violet are cast beneath his brow, giving his eyes the appearance of two precious stones hewn into living rock.

You feel yourself impossibly drawn to him in the heat of the moment. You attempt to maintain your coolness, and lower the blade. You do this slowly, savoring each minute movement as he lowers his head to meet your gaze. You open your mouth to speak but no words fall from your parted lips. Your hand twitches around your weapon and you toss it to the ground. It’s much too heavy to hold suddenly.

You step forward. Pino steps back. His back is pressed flat against the marble wall now.

Fuck.

Your heart pounds beneath your ribcage and you wonder if he can hear it, that desperate thudthudthud. The sight of him proves too overwhelming. Your mind is no longer flooded with doubts of your strength, of his care for you, of your deep bond. Fuck it all. You need him like air.

In one swift motion your hand is at the back of his head, your fingers instantly lost in the mess of ravens-feather curls. Your mouths crash together clumsily, though you hardly care. Your free hand scrambles to find his waist and you pull him close against your body.

Against your lips you feel his breath. A sound somewhere between a gasp and a whine is pulled from his mouth and you feel weightless as it echoes in your mind. You break your point of connection and hold his chin firmly in your palm. Gentle handling doesn’t come easy to you. This all feels like a long time coming, you realize. Perhaps this fire was lit long before you had the words for it. Before you ever had a chance of keeping it buried in your chest. Instead now it overcomes you.

With his face held tenderly in your hand, you admire each striking feature like a work of art. He does have a certain greek statuesque quality after all. His lids look heavy, dark lashes fluttering. The spread of freckles across his nose is illuminated by a subtle but undeniable ruddy pink.

You can feel his eyes on you now, as if he just woke from a dream, stepping into awareness again. He flinches towards you, but stops himself, mouth slightly agape in anticipation. You wonder if he has the capacity for nervousness. The thought is sort of charming. You sweep a lock of hair out of his eyes.

“Any day now, tin man.” You tease.

And before you have time to yelp, you find yourself in the dewey grass with a dully aching head. Pinocchio’s legion arm comes into focus, pressed palm-down into the patch of earth beside your head. Your eyes travel up the arm until you’re face to face with the puppet again. You’re stunned. His human hand drags along your cheek and the ends of his dark hair brush against your face. Your face flushes and you feel stupid; he doesn’t seem to mind. He recaptures you in a kiss and you feel yourself melt into the ground.

Soon your hand is lost in his hair again, your fingertips dragging along the back of his neck. You’re so tempted to leave an imprint on the fair skin of his neck, to temporarily marr his delicate appearance. God, what would Sophia and the others think? You opt for a less visual approach and tug at the back of his head. Pino’s shoulders tense in surprise, and as you take a moment to breathe you catch his brows creasing together, eyes fluttering shut. Did you just send a shiver down the poor puppets spine?

Your hand retains its firm grasp at the base of his skull and you press your foreheads together. His skin is cool and smooth and feels to you like fresh air. You soak in the feeling and begin a ritualistic repositioning of limbs until you’re straddling his lap, elbows propped up on his sturdy shoulders, your palms cradling his freckle-flecked face. His arms are anchored around your waist and you have to lean down to meet him. The look he gives you is nothing short of intoxicating, all needy eyes and shallow breath.

God, you feel drunk.

The fingers of his legion arm twitch and you feel them slip just barely beneath the hem of your shirt. You place one hand over his, about to guide it further, give him permission to be less of a gentleman, when something crackles above your head.

As you listen closely, flecks of rain begin to spatter across your skin. You look up at the sky. The sun has set and in its place hangs a cloud-obscured moon and a flash of blue lightning across the stars. In an instant, rain pours over you, cold and heavy. P raises his arm to cover his head and offers the other to you. Scrambling to stand with the wet grass beneath your feet, you loop your arm through his. You stumble forward and feel a laugh bubble forth from your mouth. You didn’t even know it was there. Pinocchio tips his head at you, puzzled, but you’re dizzy and hot and the rain feels good and cold on your aching muscles and your head is still reeling with the taste of him on your tongue and you laugh all the way through the courtyard and the entryway until you collapse against the wall.

Once you’re both inside, P examines your face, tipping it every which way as if ensuring you haven’t lost your mind.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” you choke between lingering bouts of snickering. You shake your head. It feels as though you’ve been thrown into a hurricane of emotional and physical extremes and are only now finding your footing again in normalcy. The relief makes you lightheaded. Pino acts as your trusted lifeline, firmly holding you in place at the waist. As you stand dripping in the corridor, you realize you haven’t really spoken since the night of the ambush.

“I never thanked you.” You start, “For keeping me alive, I mean. If it weren’t for you finding me…” His face falls completely as you trail off, eyes becoming dark and stormy. He must hate thinking about it. The realization makes you a bit embarrassed. Your gaze darts to the ground. “I just um. I wish I could repay it.” And as you say it, with your face still in his hands, he presses a kiss to your dewey forehead. It warms you from the inside. Your hand finds his and you squeeze tight.

“Come on.” you murmur against his ear. You pull at your soaked-through clothes and gesture down the hall. “I’ve got to get out of these clothes.”

And with that, you lead him away to your room.

#p x reader #lies of p #lies of p pinocchio #lop #lies of p x reader #pinocchio x reader #hurt/comfort #kiss the fucking puppet #tw blood #ANGST #lies of p fanfic #my fic

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hushedpresence · 5 months

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I’ll likely never finish this because I’m the queen of starting projects and never finishing them, but I wanted to let you all know that I was thinking of you lol

#lies of p #lies of p x reader #p x reader #oh look #it’s you and your bf #lies of p fanart #i'm lowkey ashamed i drew this lmao

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emptiedwonderland · 2 months

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Crimson Marks

Pairing(s): P x Reader

Notes: Gender neutral. No use of pronouns for the reader.

Summary: You leave lipstick marks on your lover's face.

An idea popped in your head as you hold your lipstick between your face and the mirror. You called out and beckoned your puppet boyfriend to come over to you.

P, whose mind was busy on coming up new ways he can find to pet and hold the hotel's favorite cat, walked over to you right away after putting down Spring from his hold on your bed and made sure he was safe and comfortable. It's hard to see it from his expressions, but he's always happy and eager to spend time with you in any kind of activities.

Your hands slowly reached out to his face. He didn't know what you were trying to do, but he trusts you and let you hold his face.

You pressed your lips against his forehead gently but firm, then to his cheek, then to his nose, then to all over his face. P closed his eyes, enjoying the feeling of you painting his face with your kisses... literally. (But he didn't know about it yet.) It was relaxing. If you didn't stop and he had the ability to sleep like a human, he would doze off.

After you're done, you let go of his face to admire your work. When you get to look at him, you burst out laughing. P tilted his head at you in confusion, unaware of what you did to him. Your lipstick marks were everywhere on his face, covering some of his freckles. It was a cute sight.

The thought of letting your boyfriend roaming around the hotel and Krat, not knowing of the lipstick marks still stuck on his face, is tempting. Just imagining the possible reactions coming out from your beloved when he realized the reason why people are giggling and giving him funny looks when he looked at his reflections is entertaining to you. Evil, but a bit entertaining, no? You agree with me, right?

... But you don't want to know the possible reactions you can get from a certain engineer when he found out what you did to his son. So you decided to wipe them off.

Before you wiped them off with your handkerchief, you told P to look at the mirror as you chuckled. His head turned to the mirror and blinked at the sight of his face. He was a little stunned at first. He brought his face closer to his reflection in curiosity, tilting his head to different angles to get better view of your work. His fingertips were carefully touching on the marks you left on him.

The way he looked at himself made you think that he was... amazed of your lipstick marks on his face.

When you cleaned his face, if you look closely, he was a little sad that he had to get your lipstick marks off his face.

The next time he saw you holding a lipstick, he would stare at you, as if he is expecting for something from you, like a dog waiting for his owner to give him treats.

#lies of p x reader #headcanons #pinocchio x reader #p x reader #uhhhh was planning to write for sophia too but it was already late and im super tired :/ hopefully i can do it later #reader insert #lop x reader #x reader #my writing

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jinwoosungs · 5 months

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{ 112 }

the question.

lies of p.

(p)inocchio x fem.reader

anonymous asked: you know that part from casper 1995, where casper and cat are dancing then he leans in and whispers "can i keep you?"

Iike omg imagine pino saying that?? I feel like it fits him so perfectly, an innocent little line cuz while it isn't the typical i love you etc, it just works for him :')

it was during those rare moments that you allowed your mind to wander, staring outside the windows of hotel krat as you kept yourself busy with your sketchbook on hand.

rain fell across the city of krat, painting it in somber hues of grey as your eyes continued to sketch the city. despite the tragedy that befell of krat, you still found it to be beautiful, and sketching it gave you a wonderful reprieve from your main muse.

from the corner of your eyes, you watch as the tall puppet with deep chestnut hair stood beside antonia, the kind lady of this hotel who allowed you to stay here along with the other guests. you were truly struck upon seeing someone so achingly beautiful, and that was when your fascination for the puppet spiraled into something you couldn't quite control.

you trail your eyes back to the pages of your sketchbook, flipping it back to reveal some sketches you had drawn of pinocchio. ever since the moment you laid eyes on him, you were inexplicably drawn to him. despite being a mere puppet, perhaps master geppetto's greatest creation yet, he appeared to be so much like a real boy. with chestnut hair that fell across his face, to the freckles that ran across the expanse of his skin like constellations, you could not keep your heart from pounding for pinocchio.

you were embarrassed to admit this, but pinocchio was your true muse. you adored sketching and drawing on your free time and saw it as a good hobby to pass the time with during these trying times, but you weren't expecting your fascination for pinocchio to go this far. each time the puppet would return back from his exploration through the dangers of krat, you would longingly sneak glances at him all while immortalizing his side profile within the pages of your sketchbook.

when pinocchio would notice you watching him, he would always meet your gaze. but you, feeling mortified at the thought of pinocchio ever seeing the details of your sketchbook, would always run away from him, not wishing to interact with him because god only knows how much your heart can handle.

he was simply too gorgeous for you.

it was silly, you knew that it was, since he was just a puppet. not only have you had a handful of interactions with him, but it seemed strange that your heart would pound at the mere sight of pinocchio. almost like you were... in love with him.

"is that...me?"

you could feel your blood turning into ice when a voice called out to you. it was a gentle voice, one that never spoke too often, yet the sound of it was enough to make a familiar warmth dust against your cheeks.

the secret you have been desperately trying to hide has just been found out by the person you kept running away from.

so caught up in your reveries, you look up to see pinocchio himself staring down at you. his sapphire blue eyes were a stark contrast to the stormy grey hues of the room, and you found yourself getting lost in them. it takes you several seconds to realize that he was still staring down at you and your sketch of him, which makes you panic even further.

"s-sorry! i don't m-mean to come off as strange or anything! i-it's just, you're achingly beautiful, p-pino, so that's why, i really really like sketching you! b-but i get shy so shy around you, that's why i'm always running away from you..."

your ramblings were not helping, and you were well aware of that. yet, you found that you just could not shut up, becoming even more flustered the longer pinocchio stared at you.

"i-i really am s-so sorry- ah?!"

you were abruptly interrupted upon feeling pinocchio's cold hand encircle your wrist, feeling him pulling you up into his arms with his strength alone. as your sketchbook fell against the marble floors of the hotel, you found yourself within his arms. your nose brushes against the cold skin of his cheek, and you look to your left to see pinocchio gazing at you. his blue gaze was unwavering as he held you in his arms, leading your hands around his waist before swaying with you across the hotel room.

you had to be dreaming, because there was no way you were dancing with pinocchio, the strange yet beautiful puppet who had stolen your heart.

you couldn't bring yourself to look at him directly, becoming even more flustered as you cleared your throat to ask, "w-where did you learn this?"

pinocchio twitches slightly, still keeping his hold on you before admitting, "lady antonia told me i should do this if i wanted to get closer to you."

"o-oh..." was all you could manage to say.

your heart was pounding wildly against your chest, your parted lips open in a dreamy sigh as you followed pinocchio's lead. being so close to him, you could see the painstaking details of his features, and you had an almost irrational desire to trace your lips against those endearing freckles, never stopping until you touched each and every one of them.

with a whisper of his name, you press a gentle kiss against his cheek, seeing pinocchio's eyes widen for the briefest of moments before sliding your eyes shut. as pinocchio continues to dance with you across the room, you press your head against his chest, hearing the gentle ticking of his mechanical heart. you were so happy that he was real, that he existed and was here with you now, dancing with you while setting your heart aflame with emotion.

"can i keep you?"

the gentle voice was heard once more, and you found yourself opening your eyes to meet with pinocchio's. he stopped dancing, remaining still as he continued to hold you in his arms. a gentle smile paints his rosy lips, and you found yourself falling for him all over again.

he was so achingly adorable that you couldn't help but tease him a bit, leaning in closer as your lips were a mere centimeters away from his when you tell him, "you may keep me as long as i get to keep you."

a.n. - they're in love, your honor 🥹 this is unedited, but i hope you readers don't mind this achingly soft story.

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.

#lies of p x you #lies of p x reader #liesofp x reader #pinocchio x reader #pinocchio x you #p x reader #p x you #.stories

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bloodbrown · 6 months

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Imagine havin his head in your lap and kissin his face. And kissin all of his lil freckles. And then gently ruffling his hair and telling him he's a gorgeous boy, imagine THAT

#lies of p #lies of p pinocchio x reader #lies of p x reader #pinocchio x reader #p x reader #lies of p headcanons #lies of p headcanon #October 2023

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ikarasu · 5 months

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🍫White Chocolate🍫

Yandere Carlo/P x Reader

Warning: spoilers, yandere behavior, broken bones, and death

P/Carlo’s Perspective: 🍫Dark Chocolate🍫

Final Part: 🥀Tummy Ache🥀

Word Count: 1715

🥀~🍫~🥀~🍫~🥀~🍫~🥀~🍫~🥀~🍫~🥀~🍫~🥀~

At a young age, Carlo and I knew that we were to marry. My parents were successful vehicle inventors who were very interested in Geppetto’s works. Geppetto wanted his son to marry the perfect spouse. So our parents took an opportunity and formed an arranged marriage. I knew that Carlo hated me, because of the arrangement. Feeling that now he has no chance of experiencing real love. I, on the other hand, fell in love at first sight. Everything that Carlo did felt so honest and pure. I watched Carlo grow up into a fine young man, but our relationship never improved. He would always avoid me at any chance given. Yet I still loved him despite his bitter nature towards me. Loving Carlo was like savoring dark chocolate. It’s so pure and rich but leaves nothing but a bitter aftertaste.

As the plague worsened my family had us move away from Krat. Yet my parents still caught the disease and eventually passed away six months after contracting it. I returned to Krat in hopes of finding Geppetto and Carlo. Only to return to the beginning of the puppet frenzy. I found Geppetto and was told of Carlo’s passing before he rushed me to take refuge at The Krat Hotel with a few other survivors.

I don’t know how long it has been since I’ve taken refuge here. But I’ve grown to enjoy the company of others. Usually, I help around with Polendina or chat with Sophia and Eugénie. I have not heard news from Geppetto recently, and I can’t help but worry. Leading me to think about Carlo and how I wasn’t there for his final moments. It hurts to think that I never got to say bye and tell him the truth about my feelings.

The loud creaking of the front entrance doors opening pulls me out of my thoughts. Like a bitter pill, I swallow up my feelings and head downstairs to greet whoever had just entered. As I head down the stairs I hear Sophia chatting. ‘It must be another survivor…’

“Sophia, who’s the newcomer-“

I stop as I look up at the face of the newcomer. Suddenly I feel sick to the stomach and I take a step back.

“I-it can’t be….”

There stands a confused familiar face. His unfamiliar blue eyes are glassy and dull, but his freckles are a constellation of stars I have memorized by heart.

“Oh, (name), I want you to meet P” Sophia says as she looks over at me with concern.

P raises his hand slowly as he stares at me. He almost touches my hand but I run. I headed to my room as fast as I could. My breath is erratic, my heart is pounding, and my mind is spinning. I feel like the world is collapsing on me and I fall to my knees and cry alone in my room.

🥀~🍫~🥀~🍫~🥀~Time Skip~🥀~🍫~🥀~🍫~🥀~

*knock knock*

I refuse to move from my bed after the events from earlier today. The confusion and feeling of being lied to is conflicted inside me.

“(Name)… it’s me, Geppetto. May I come in?”

He sighs as he hears no response from me.

“I’m assuming you met my latest creation…..”

The door whips open revealing my angered expression.

“Is that what he is, Geppetto? Just another toy to you?! Some sick way to make up for your shortcomings as a father figure to Carlo?!”

My fists are trembling and the hot tears spill from my cheeks. Geppetto holds one of my fists gently before making me look at his face.

“Let me explain everything to you… there’s more to it…”

We sit in my room as Geppetto explains his whole plan to revive Carlo. I hesitate at his words, everything about it seems inhumane. Yet he tries to reassure me with promises of me getting my chance to love Carlo again.

“I can’t Geppetto… none of this sounds right. I miss Carlo as well, deeply, but this is too much for me.”

I guide him out of my room to let me process everything that has been said.

The next few days I try to go through my day as per usual. Trying to ignore those same blue glassy eyes following my form as I pass by. Despite their beautiful color, they’re too fake and doll-like for me to appreciate.

I go to the library to browse some books to read. On the top shelf, I notice one of my favorite books sitting on it. I try to reach for it as best as I can. My fingers barely graze the spine of the book before suddenly I feel a cold form pressing against my back. A larger hand easily grabs the book I was reaching for. Turning around slowly I refuse to meet his eyes. I quickly take the book and give him a quiet thank you before running off. If I had taken the time to look I would’ve noticed the way his eyes showed something new, longing.

I try to avoid him whenever he is in the hotel. Until one day I was feeling more somber than usual. Today would’ve been Carlo’s birthday. Sitting alone at the piano I play an old tune, one that I thought Carlo would’ve enjoyed if he and I got along. The tears drip from my face as I continue to play. Quietly the front doors of the hotel open and P walks in. P’s footsteps go unnoticed by me as I drown myself in my sorrows. He feels something deep down in his heart pulling him towards me. The feelings ran deep and made the ergo in his veins flow more. He felt like he had no control over these feelings. Remembering Geppetto’s words in his office after defeating the watchman at the city hall.

“(Name) and Carlo were made for each other. Treat them well, even if they’re a bit rough around the edges at the moment. They’ll come around sooner or later”

The song comes to an end and the room is now only filled with the sounds of my quiet sobs. I gasp as I feel a hand touch my shoulder. P stands there and looks at me with concern.

“Go away… You’re the last ‘thing’ I want to see at the moment” I say resentfully.

Instead of listening to me, P pulls me into a hug. I freeze and then I let myself melt. Carlo would’ve never hugged me so comfortably. The tears spill more and for once I look back at those blue eyes. He stares at me so lovingly and kindly. Maybe this is okay…maybe I can love again…

As P progressed on his journey our relationship bloomed. He was patient when I was stubborn and he was loving when I needed it. Loving P was like milk chocolate. The perfect balance of sweetness with no bitter aftertaste. He was perfect and I gave him all of my heart.

P came into the hotel and came to my room. One look at his face and I knew what he was thinking. We lay together one last time before he had to go off and finish off Simon. Our tears and hearts are shared one last time.

“I promise to come back… I won’t leave you again, (name)”

🥀~🍫~🥀~🍫~🥀~Time Skip~🥀~🍫~🥀~🍫~🥀~

Screams are all I can hear ringing through the hotel. I hide in my room crying as I fear for my life. They’re all gone. Eugénie, Venigni, Antonia, Polendina, Pulcinella… they’re all gone. I hear footsteps approaching my room and I feel sick to my stomach. I pray for them to turn away and move on. It’s silent for a few moments before I hear the handle of the door turn. I hid in my wardrobe before the door could be opened. Holding my breath as I stare through the crack of my wardrobe. The room is empty and everything is silent. I let out my breath before suddenly brown eyes appeared in front of the crack. A scream is ripped out of my throat as I’m yanked out of the wardrobe.

“My love~ I promised you I would come back”

I tried to push at his form but his body wouldn’t budge an inch. Staring at familiar brown eyes that are now filled with bloodlust. Familiar constellations of freckles are nowhere to be found. Only splatters of blood and oil speckle his face.

“Let me go! You monster!” I scream as I continue to thrash in his iron-like hold.

“Now, now, that’s not very nice of you love~” he says in a sugary tone

I continue to thrash as tears fall from my eyes. Praying to any gods that all of this is just some nightmare. Suddenly he pulls me by the hair to force me to look at him. His tone taking a dangerous turn.

“Father promised me that we were made for each other. So start acting like it, love.”

I tremble in his hold submissively. He smiles and releases my hair before leaning closer to my face.

“That’s a good spouse~”

Before he could lean any closer I grabbed the vase behind him and smashed it on his head. He staggers and I make a run for it. Skipping over steps as I make a dash for the exit. I manage to run out the doors into the rainy entrance before I’m tackled down. Grabbing onto my leg he gives me a dangerous look. A sickening crack and a scream were all that could be heard. I cry as the pain shoots up my leg.

“See? That’s what happens when you’re not a good spouse. I have to clip your wings” his tone has returned to that sickening sweet voice.

He pulls out a ring and looks at me. I try to crawl away but he pulls me back cradling me. I cry as he slips on the ring and pulls me into a possessive kiss.

“That’s right, love! Cry! It’s a joyous moment for both of us. Now we can be together forever just as we were meant to be”

This ‘love’ is like white chocolate. Its overly sweet taste is there to cover up the fact it isn’t chocolate. Only this time it’s all that you have left.

🥀~🍫~🥀~🍫~🥀~🍫~🥀~🍫~🥀~🍫~🥀~🍫~🥀~

Notes: I will edit this eventually rippppp

#lies of p #lies of p pinocchio #pinocchio #p #lies of p pinocchio x reader #pinocchio x reader #yandere #yandere x reader #p x reader #lies of p fanfic #gender neutral reader #gender neutral fanfic #lies of p carlo x reader #yandere carlo #lies of p carlo

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