#i wish i could just go back inside and sleep while someone else is productive

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[siriusly-yoongi]

She wants to be saved chapter 2

Main Masterlist Series Masterlist

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Pairing: alpha BTS × omega reader

Chapter Warnings: I don't really know what to put for warnings, bad writing, mute reader, POV changes, scars, thoughts of self-harm, panic attack?, someone is kinda mean, issues with food, reader referred to as "it",

Word count: 3835

I'm still figuring out how I want the points of view to be so if they shift a little, ignore it

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NAMJOON

It took all day but we finally convinced her to come home with us. Honestly I think she only agreed because she knew we weren't gonna let up. A win is a win.

We lead her to the car and she gets into the backseat, Jimin drives, and I'm in the passenger seat.

After a short drive we pull up to our house, it's pretty big. We each have our own rooms, though we all sleep together in the pack den downstairs. The house has 2 floors and a basement, the bedrooms are are all on the top floor except for Yoongi's, his is on the main floor.

Yoongi's door is always locked, if you go into his room uninvited you've got a death wish.

No one else is home, everyone's working today and Yoongi is at a studio he goes to sometimes.

Jimin unlocks the door and heads upstairs to shower. I'm tasked with getting the little omega to go into the house, which is proving harder than anticipated.

"Baby, come on, you need to go into the house" I don't know where the pet name came from, it could be because she's my mate or it could be because she's small, I'm not entirely sure.

It takes 20 minutes of convincing before she finally steps inside. She looks around, her body rigid. She keeps her hands close to her body, like she's afraid to touch anything.

As I show her around the house she keeps her distance from me.

After the tour I lead her into the guest room, which will now be her room. it's on the top floor, next to Jungkook's. There's not much in it right now, I texted Jin and asked him to get a bunch of blankets from the store so she can nest. I didn't tell him why though. I still haven't told the rest of the pack that she's here.. or that we have another mate..

I leave her in her room and head back downstairs. I sit down on the couch and stare at my phone, trying to decide if I wanna text everyone or if I should just let them figure it out on their own once they get home. I end up choosing the latter.

I decide to take a quick shower as well, wanting to wash away the scents of the hospital and wash off my scent blocker. I use a spray, unlike Jimin who uses patches.

I get dressed in a plain black t-shirt and sweat pants then head downstairs, a sigh escaping my lips as i sink down into the couch.

I end up watching some movie on TV, getting lost in it. After a while I hear soft footsteps down the stairs. Jimin had gone out to buy her some clothes and things she might need so I knew it had to be her.

"Hey, baby" I smile at her, she just stands at the bottom of the stairs with her arms folded over her stomach.

My eyes trail over her body, she's so so skinny. She's still wearing the hospital gown and a pair of fluffy pajama pants, both soaked in dried blood. Her hair is matted down with dried blood as well.

"Do you wanna take a shower?"

She nods her head hesitantly. Before we get any further, the door opens. She visibly tenses, getting ready to run. Luckily it's just Jimin getting back from the store, his arms full of bags. He went a little overboard it seems

"It's okay, its just Minnie, yeah? You're okay" I try and calm her down, however I don't believe it really helps much.

I help Jimin carry the bags up to her room then I quickly look through until I find some comfy clothes. The fabric is soft, made for omegas. Jimin did good. I pull out some fuzzy pajama pants since she seems to like those, and a shirt, handing them to her.

"You can go shower if you'd like, you can use any of the products in there, no one will mind"

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YOU

You head into the bathroom and lock the door. The tile is cold on your bare feet, you remind yourself to check if Jimin got you any socks once you're done.

You start the water and let it warm up, looking around while you wait. The tiles are an off white, the walls a dark blue. There's a large bathtub, big enough to fit multiple grown adults. Then there's the shower, nothing super fancy, the shower head has a few more settings than your used to, and its a bit larger than average, okay a lot larger. You assume they must bathe together sometimes.

You turn off the lights, leaving only the light filtering through the windows to light the room. It's more relaxing that way, it made you feel safer. You're not sure why, but it did.

You feel the water, the hot water stings your hand, perfect. You shake the water off your hand and peel off your clothes, tossing them to onto the floor in a pile. Stepping into the shower, you hiss as the hot water burns your skin. You're pretty sure you aren't supposed to get your stitches wet, but frankly you don't really care.

Picking up a random bottle of shampoo, you begin to wash your hair, struggling to comb through it with your fingers. It's been days since it's been brushed. It takes a solid 15 minutes to get it detangled and free of your blood. Sighing softly you wash your body, being carful around your stitches. Your fingers linger on the bumpy skin of your hips and thighs, years of self-harm having marred the skin. Something inside you wants, no needs to add more, but unfortunately you don't have anything sharp at your disposal right now. What a shame.

You sit under the water for a little while longer then get out and get dressed. You've never worn a shirt that didn't irritate your skin and feel itchy, but this one didn't. It's soft and comfortable. This is your new favorite.

You towel dry your hair then pick up your clothes and leave the bathroom. You put your dirty clothes in your room then quickly look through the bags to see if Jimin got you any socks. You find a bunch and open the package, picking out some blue ones that match your pants. You slip them on your feet then stand and make your way downstairs.

You gasp and freeze when you see a man standing in the living room talking to Namjoon, he smells like freshly picked roses, not a scent you'd expect from an alpha. You must've gasped because his head shoots up in your direction, making direct eye contact with you. You immediately drop your gaze.

"Namjoon.. is there something you need to tell me!?" You can hear the disbelief in his voice "oh my god this is what the blankets were for!"

Namjoon smiles and nods, waving you over. When you don't move, he sighs but doesn't push. "This is y/n... surprise.. we uh.. have an omega now" he laughs awkwardly, scratching the back on his neck.

"You are so adorable oh my gosh!" The man rushes toward you, cooing at you like you're some puppy or small child.

"Jin no!" He's grabbed by Namjoon and quickly pulled into the larger man's lap. You're tense and on high alert, taking a few cautious steps backward.

"She's hurt and she's scared, you can't r-"

"She's hurt!? Who hurt her?!" Jin's rose petals quickly turn to gunpowder, causing you to panic. He's angry. Angry alphas are bad. Bad, bad, bad. Get out! Your brain screams. GET OUT!

You make it 2 steps outside the house before Jin has you in his arms then back in the house, where he quickly lets you go. Damn he's fast. You don't take time to dwell on that though, running upstairs and locking yourself in your room.

Once you collect yourself, you decide to be brave and head back downstairs. You immediately regret it though as before you even reach the last step, 2 more men come into the house, both of them freezing when they catch your scent. They don't see you yet since you're partially hidden behind a wall.

"Baby come out, it's okay" Namjoon tries to coax you out from behind the wall. You take a deep breath, then slowly peek out. He smiles warmly at you. You glance over at the two men. One of them is almost glaring at you, he doesn't look happy at all. The other one, the one with longer, black hair looks rather indifferent. He gives you a small nod before he heads into a room down the hall.

The one that's staring you down smells like vanilla and cedar, though it was fading into a used charcoal scent that burned your nose. It caused your own burnt cookies to seep out and join it.

"Why is an omega here" he looks over at Namjoon, his tone sharp and unfriendly

Namjoon looks stunned "Hoseok, babe, what the hell is your problem" he stands up, giving Hoseok a warning look

"My problem? My problem is that, that thing in our house! You could've warned me you were bringing home some useless omega into our den! She better not have been in our den or so help me i will kill her!"

Everyone goes silent, you shrink back in on yourself. No one moves and no one says a word, they all just stare at Hoseok with open mouths. Namjoon's rain scent spikes into a burning plastic as he crosses the room and grabs Hoseok by the back of his neck, effectively scruffing him, causing him to relax back against Namjoon, his scent evening back out again. Namjoons stayed angry. He leads Hoseok into the other room with his hand still on the back of his neck and slams the door. You flinch, tears stinging your eyes.

Jin notices "oh, honey.." he doesn't know what to do, he wants nothing more than to run over and hug you. To make his omega feel better but he knows better than to try it.

Before anyone else has a chance to speak, someone else walks in. A muscular boy with a bunny smile. His smile only gets bigger when he notices you "Oh my god we have an omega!" He practically squeals, all but jumping up and down. His cinnamon scent is strong and you cant help the small smile that pulls at your lips. His excitement was contagious

Your smile is short lived however, as he runs at you, capturing you in a hug before anyone can stop him. You thrash in his grip, accidentally headbutting his chin. You freeze. Oh god, he's gonna kill you. You just hurt an alpha.

He quickly lets go and takes a step back, for the 3rd time, you try and run, but Jin blocks the door. Tears roll down your cheeks and you struggle to take a breath, panic ripping through your chest. You frantically look for a way out, but can't find one, you're trapped. You cough and gasp, unable to take a proper breath as your head spins.

You don't notice Jimin leave the room, but he comes back a few seconds later with Namjoon, who bends down a little in front of you so he doesn't look do intimidating.

"I'm gonna do what I did to Hobi, okay?" He speaks calmly, reaching up and squeezing the back of your neck. Your vision goes white for a few seconds and your legs give out underneath you. He catches you, but quickly sets you down and backs away, giving you space. You're still crying, but you're nowhere near as panicked, able to breathe now.

"Jungkook didn't mean to scare you, it's okay, he didn't know" he soothes softly, a broken sob falls from your lips, the first sound you've made in front of them. You were still terrified because you hurt him, scared of the repercussions.

The one that smells like dark chocolate and whiskey speaks up, startling you. You didn't know he'd come out of his room "he's not mad at you. No one's upset with you, omega"

You look up, looking at him. He didn't smile or come any closer, just looked at you from a distance, softly offering reassurance from across the room. You appreciated it more than they'll ever realize, however you have a hard time believing that Jungkook isn't mad at you. At the very least he has to be upset, right?

"You thought I was mad at you?" Jungkook asks, looking like a kicked puppy. You nod. "What for?"

"Kookie she doesn't speak" Jimin whispers to him, you look down, embarrassed.

Cat eyes goes back into what you assume is his room and Jin speaks "That was Yoongi, by the way. He's not a people person, but he's really nice I promise"

"Yeah, usually so is Hobi" Jimin mutters

Namjoon gives him a dirty look, he just flashes a cheeky smile, eyes forming little crescent moons as he does. Namjoon rolls his eyes and turns back to you "Taehyung should be home any minute, then you'll have met all of us"

Speaking of, another guy, presumably Taehyung, walks through the door, his boxy smile fading as soon as his eyes land on you. You shrink in on yourself for the umpteenth time today.

"We have an omega now?" He grumbles, voice laced with disgust.

Am I really that disgusting, you wonder as you get up and head upstairs to your room, locking the door.

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You lay on the bed for a while, just thinking. Wondering how you got here, but mainly focusing on how Hoseok and Taehyung seem to despise you.

You were quiet, you avoided eye contact, they didn't see your little meltdown so you know that can't be the cause. We're you really just that unlikable. You ex definitely thought so, he told you all the time. Maybe it was true after all.

You decide to stop wallowing and look at what Jimin bought for you. You go through and put everything away and by the time you finish there's a knock on your door "dinner is ready" you don't know their voices well enough to tell who it is. You know its not Namjoon though.

You open the door and you're face to face with Jungkook

"I'm sorry I scared you earlier! I didn't know you didn't like hugs" he looks down at the floor, his hands behind his back.

You grab your notebook from earlier

It's okay. Sorry I hit you in the face

You show him.

"No no that was my fault, I deserved that" he laughs a little. "Come on, Jin made dinner" he doesn't wait for you as he takes off back downstairs..

You slowly make your way downstairs after him. Jungkook had taken his seat at the table with everyone else while you just stand there awkwardly. There's a spot for you between Namjoon and Yoongi but you don't really want to be that close to either of them.

After a bit of coaxing from Namjoon, you slowly sit down and a plate of food is placed in front of you. Your eyes widen and your stomach twists. You can already feel the bile rising in your throat. No one was looking at you, at least not at first. Hoseok noticed you not eating and took it upon himself to point it out.

"Oh great, it doesn't eat. I mean I could kind of guess since it's disgustingly skinny that it had problems with food but I thought it would at least try and be normal in front of us"

Everyone stills. Some look at you, others look at Hoseok.

"I mean, we were all thinking it" Taehyung agrees and you feel your heart drop.

They know, they know, they know. Shit. They're all gonna hate you now and they're gonna reject you as their mate and then- wait when did you start caring about that? You suppose a part of you wants this to work out. You've always wanted a mate, you never imagined having 7.

There's a part of you that wants to let them hug you and touch you like they all, well most of them, seem to so desperately want to. But you can't let them. You can't let them get close. But God you want to. You're fear wins out in the end unfortunately over your yearning to have someone to be close to, someone to trust.

You're broken out of your thoughts by Jimin "Are you okay?"

You lift your head, nodding instinctively. You're always okay. You have to be. You didn't see anyone leave the table but Hoseok, Taehyung, Namjoon, and Jin are all gone from the table, and you can hear faint arguing from the other room. You're driving a wedge between an already existing pack. You can't do that. You may be afraid and constantly on alert, but these are your mates and a part of you already cares about them, just a little.

I didn't mean to hurt your pack, I'm sorry

You write, tearing out the page of the notebook and leaving it on the table. You leave before you can hear their responses.

You expected someone to try and stop you again, but no one did much to your relief. You don't have shoes on, walking down the street in just your socks. You don't know where you're going and you don't recognize the area.

Realizing running isn't gonna end very well for you as you come to the 3rd dead end you've encountered, you turn back. You'd walked for around 20 minutes by this point though and it was getting dark.

You make it back to the house, now carrying a few pretty little rocks you'd found while walking. You set them down on the porch, and sit down next to them, looking them over and running your fingers over them. The texture is nice on your fingers.

You figure you're not welcome back, considering all the trouble you've caused, so you make no moves to try and go back inside.

There's a chilly breeze nipping at your exposed skin, you're only wearing short sleeves. Just as you pull your knees to your chest, the door opens and a very panicked Namjoon comes outside, visibly relaxing when he sees you sitting there.

"Thank God" he sighs "Come on" He steps aside so you can go in the house. You're just thankful he didn't yell at you.

You stand and nervously walk into the house, taking off your now dirty socks in the doorway so you don't track dirt through the house.

"I'd like to apologize for Hoseok and Taehyung. They aren't usually like this and I don't know why they're acting like such assholes. I promise I'll figure this out okay? You're our mate and you have every right to be here" he smiles.

You shrug, keeping your eyes downcast.

You head up to your room and you notice Namjoon going to his instead on their den. You remember him telling you they all sleep together in the den, so why was he going to his individual room?

Your stomach twists as you realize just how badly your existence in the house is affecting the pack dynamics

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The blankets Jin bought are brought up to your room by Jungkook, he insisted he carry them for you. And you couldn't say no to those Boba eyes and that bunny smile.

Now you sit on your bed, the blankets a heap in the corner. Everyone is sleeping in their own rooms. You'd asked about it earlier, they said that sometimes they liked having space and not everyone slept together every night. Yoongi slept in his own room rather regularly, he loved his pack, more than was probably healthy, but he also loved his space.

When you'd asked why they all went to their own rooms today, no one gave you an answer. You knew it was because of you. It had to be. It had something to do with you, even if indirectly. Maybe you made them fight, no, you know you made them fight. You'd overheard the shouting and smelled the angry scents coming from the other room earlier.

You stare at the blankets, you'd never been allowed to nest before. Your alpha father said it made omegas weak, and your beta mother made no effort to correct him. You attempted a nest one time, only to have it destroyed by your father. It broke something inside you finding your nest destroyed when you came home from school. Nests are a source of comfort omegas need, crave. Ignoring that instinct causes omegas to be more on edge and unsettled, more prone to drop. It literally affects their health. Or so you've heard.

You never moved into your own place, you'd foolishly agreed to move into your ex alphas house right from your parents house. And while he never stopped you from nesting, you're pretty certain if you'd ever tried he would've destroyed your nest like your father had. That stopped you from ever trying. That, and you felt you didn't deserve that comfort. That safety. You weren't worthy of it.

You still do. So despite that itch under your skin, the anxious feeling in your chest, you make no move to make a nest. You didn't even realize that needing to nest was the cause for the way you were feeling. You don't connect those dots just yet.

You allow yourself to have one of the blankets, just one. You stand and make your way over to the heap of blankets, sifting through the pile until you find the one you want. Maybe you subconsciously listened to those instincts just a little, leaning into them just enough as you feel each and every blanket. There were around 10, give or take.

Your fingers brush over a soft, fluffy fabric and immediately something inside you lights up. You pull the blanket out, it's a large blanket, big enough to fit 2 or 3 people underneath it. It's made of a very soft plush material, it's grayish-blue in color and it has the faint scent of cinnamon on it from Jungkook carrying it earlier as you rub your cheek against the fabric.

You pull the blanket over to your bed and curl up with it, sighing blissfully. This is the comfiest blanket you've ever felt.

As it turns out, being in flight or flight and constantly living in a state of fear is exhausting, so you fall asleep quickly. Unfortunately for you, like always, you wake up sweaty with tears rolling down your cheeks multiple times throughout the night. You haven't had a decent night's sleep, well, ever that you can recall. And unsurprisingly, tonight was no different.

[prdrys]

—# beneath the surface | v. schoenheit

desc: the best way to unwind after a day is with you.

—c. warnings: none, just fluff. (a little bit of angst, as well. but it has to go bad before it can get gud! 😋) ooc (?)

—a. notes: messing around w/ the layouts of my posts, so expect things looking a bit funky for a while…

as much as vil liked getting up in the morning, feeling refreshed after a good night’s sleep and preparing for the day ahead, there was nothing more he loved even more than unwinding after the day with you.

it was a wonderful moment of peacefulness in his rather packed life. from constant incoming calls of potential photoshoots and movie roles to performing his role as dormleader, vil always knew he could always come back to you after a hard day’s work.

well, most of time.

“what do you mean you can’t come over today?”

vil’s mood dampened at your sudden disclosure of information, a sour expression coming over his face as he stood in front of you.

he wouldn’t say he was sulking, but he was definitely sulking.

from the way his bottom lip slightly pushed forward, to how he crossed his arms over his chest as he huffed, and how his eyebrows furrowed together. it was quite obvious vil was pouting.

well, to you, at least.

to others, it was probably his usual displeased expression he’d show whenever upset.

but, it was cute nonetheless.

and as you gazed at his expression, you couldn’t help but chuckle softly with a soft smile, before you placed your hands on his shoulders with a reassuring squeeze.

“aww, c’mon, vil. it’ll be just this once, promise. and if not, i’ll make it up to you teeen times over when i have the free time~”

vil silently huffed once again, his expression souring even more at your words as he removed your hands off his shoulders and enveloped them in his.

and while although you were right, it was just this once, and he would have brushed it off and said alright if it was a normal day.

but today… he needed you today.

“oh!”

your eyes widened as you yelped in surprise when vil suddenly pulled you into his embrace, his hands clutching your shoulders tightly while his arms wrapped securely over your back.

he buries his face into the crook of your neck, nuzzling into your warmth with a sigh, and despite having to hunch over awkwardly to reach your height, vil still felt comfortable anyways.

“can i be selfish…” he mumbles into your neck, his own voice sound oddly vulnerable to him as he speaks, “just for today?”

“have you prioritize me, over everything else… just for today?” he asks.

the question sounded… as it was, selfish.

vil knew you probably had something better to do than to tend to his sulking, which he’ll now admit, much to his chagrin.

but, today felt… hard, in particular.

he doesn’t usually complain, or at all, about himself. so, even to him, it was odd of him to ask you of this, to have you tend to him than for him to tend to you.

ah, maybe he should take it back now.

he could feel that ugly feeling in his chest again.

but…

“ahaha! is that what this is about?”

…your laughter seemed to quell and cut through that unpleasantness that stormed inside vil’s chest as you pulled back from his embrace, that ever warming smile still adorning your face as you gazed at him with such kindness he never truly understood someone could have.

replacing that feeling in his chest with something more warm, one that bubbled softly with affection and love he wished to express to you in the best way possible than what he already can now, one that showed how beautiful his feelings for you and your feelings for him are.

“vil wants me to spoil him today, is that what he wants?~”

and that is all he wants for today.

vil huffs, a light blush dusting his cheeks as he looks away bashfully, but with a light smile nonetheless.

“yes.”

your hands felt like wondrous silk as they glide and massage vil’s skin, the moisturizer he had obtained from azul making the experience much more pleasurable as you gently worked the product into his skin.

vil was sitting down with you standing between his legs, delightedly doing his own skin care for him just because.

it was times like these that vil cherished. where his only worry was you, and you alone. not everyone else and what they think, nor the public, or his fans, or manager.

it was just you, and him, ending the day and unwinding in each others presence.

“y’know, this moisturizer’s really good.” you commented, giving vil’s face a few light pats as you finished rubbing the moisturizer into his skin.

“yes, very.” vil sighed, “azul made it for me, i’ve been using the product ever since.”

“is that so.” you deadpanned, recounting the few times you’ve baited one of the tweels (mostly floyd. he is not amused) into providing azul the main ingredient for said moisturizer in exchange for something in return.

“speaking of skin,” vil chimed, “your skin looks a bit dull. have you been keeping up your skin care?”

from the way you flinched at the question, vil already knew the answer and sighed.

—post note: i’ve had this sitting in my drafts for a good year. 🤡

[poeghoul]

hard times iv

in which they share a first kiss.

word count: 4,567 warnings: fluff. fluff. major fluff. authors note: i love them so much. so happy with this part <3

three masterlist

It had become their new routine; Harry would pick y/n up from work, they would head back to her place and just lay with each other on her bed. It was bliss. Harry had never felt so warm in the coldest months of his life. She had become his sun. And he was her moon. Every star had shined brighter since she had come into his life. He was overcome by joy, and the little voice that warned him seemed to quiet down. 

Y/n, like usual, fell asleep on Harry's chest. He was properly messing up her sleep schedule with how comfortable he was to fall asleep on. But how could she resist? He was warm and she had never felt more safe. 

Harry loved to watch her sleep. He loved to watch her chest rise and fall at a slow, steady pace, loved to hear her soft breaths escape her lips, loved to be the one she fell asleep on. It was intimate, and though he had many, many partners, he felt this was the most intimate relationship he’d ever had. He hadn’t even kissed her yet; hadn’t even taken her on a date and though she didn’t mind, she hoped it would come soon. It scared him, not the date aspect, but the idea that she could say no. He was too in his head about it, fearful that the girl he’d deemed his sweet, little lamb would run off from a stalking predator ready to strike. 

He was nothing of the sort. Nothing if not gentle with her.

He would never hurt her; wished to never see her cry again. 

He’d gotten to know who she is, what she’s like when he’s not being standoffish or short with her. He learned she loved green, deep greens, and that the fall to winter transition was her favorite, even though the time change was damning for her. That her favorite scents were ones that made her feel warm inside. That she was a maximalist and called herself a hoarder because of it. He learned so much about her in so little time. He learned that he was truly fucked, that he was truly head over heels for her. 

And she had learned so much about him, too. Learned that he loved to sing and play guitar when he had the time. Learned that Jax, Daniel, Lee and the rest of his “men” lived with him and most of the time, Harry wished they didn’t. He loved his alone time where he was able to be himself and not have to think about the numbers or details about his job. A job that terrified y/n, but she’d never dare to tell him. He loved blues and oranges, loved cooking and tending to his garden. Loved things she’d never expect him to. The majority of his interests had come as a surprise to her. 

She loved his curls and the smell of his hair products. Loved his voice in the morning, deep and husky with the way he said good morning. Loved his forehead kisses, and holding his hand, and doing just about everything with him now. He was her newfound home. She’d go with him anywhere.

She’d never met anyone as soft with her as he is. She doesn’t think she’d meet anyone else who is. That made her happy. He made her happy; she was over the moon with him. Delighted in spending any waking moment with him. 

+++

“Would you want to go on a date?” Harry stood against the only unoccupied kitchen counter in y/n’s apartment (he had told her many times already that her kitchen space was far too small for someone who bakes at her frequency). Her head shot up, looking at him with a slack jaw. An expression that made him smirk while he sucked frosting off his thumb, a ‘hmm’ sound leaving his lips; a gesture that had her throat drying instantly. 

“Like, a real date?” he nodded. She bit her lips in her mouth, looking down at the plate of cinnamon rolls she was currently frosting. Timidly, she nods, mumbling the tiniest ‘yeah’ against Harry’s wishes. 

“Didn’t hear that, little lamb. Won’t you speak up for me?” he stepped closer to her, looking down at her as she refused to show him her blushing cheeks. 

“Harry,” she whined, still not daring to look at him. 

“What? Couldn’t hear ya, that’s all.” she didn’t even have to look at him to know he was still wearing his smirk. 

She rolled her eyes and shook her head before responding. “Yes,” she said, still quiet as a mouse. 

But still, Harry wasn’t giving her what she wanted. “Hmm, still didn’t get that, angel.”

She pouted, finally looking at him and not caring that her cheeks were a deep red. “Yes. Yes I want to go on a date with you, Harry!” she practically shouted. He grinned down at her, dimples piercing his cheeks. “Are you happy now?” 

“Yes, actually.” he scooped some frosting onto his finger and dabbed the white cream on her nose. She scrunched up her nose, her pout disappearing into a smile, “very happy now.” he said before holding the sides of her face and promptly licking the frosting off her nose, eliciting a squeal-like laugh from the girl. 

“You’re so annoying,” she giggled, still grinning up at him. There had to be glitter in her eyes with the way they were sparkling. Harry swore there was a hole in the ceiling and her eyes were reflecting the brightest stars ever seen by man. “What do you want to watch tonight?” She asked the same question just about every night, always offering him to pick. He memorized her favorite shows (not her favorite movies though, as she had something called “top fifty picks”, which consisted of fifty of her favorite movies) and always made sure to pick something she’d love, even if he wasn’t a fan (he would never tell her that).

They sat down on the edge of her bed, a single plate rested on her thigh with two cinnamon rolls. She finally had the patience to wait for the dough to rise now that she wasn’t always alone and succumbing to her intrusive thoughts the winter brought. Time with Harry was the best distraction. 

He held the remote in his hand, the piece of black plastic looked like it was made for babies in his large hands. He waited for her tv to connect to the wifi and scrolled through hulu while she waited patiently, her chin resting on his shoulder. He decided on PEN15 and set the remote beside him so they could dig in to their sweet treat. 

It was the best cinnamon roll Harry had ever had. 

+++

“I’ve always wanted to go there,” y/n said from the passenger seat as they passed by a recently shut down roller rink. Harry briefly looked to his right, the bright colors of the sign blurring past them as he drove. 

They were on their way to pick up a pizza from the only pizza joint in their town Harry wouldn’t refuse to eat. Once he realized her diet mainly consisted of diner food and baked goods he swore he’d buy or make her something every night. Ever since that decision, y/n had not felt nearly as poor as she had before. Her stomach issues were significantly better. 

“When did it close?” 

“M’not sure, I think, like, a month or so ago. I dunno.” she shrugged, her hand playing with the rings on his right hand that rested above her knee. Her fingers were always cold, Harry thought to buy her some mittens, or even to take up crocheting to try and make her some. 

The ride was silent, not filled with tension as it had been when they first met, but one with comfort and warmth. Harry left the car running as he went inside to pay and pick up their pre order. A large cheese pizza to share. He was happy to know she had an aversion to meat just as he did. 

Y/n had never gone to Harry’s home. Didn’t even know where or what part of town he lived in, if he even lived in town. He was strict, for some reason, on her not venturing there. Which is why they always hung out at her apartment even though he thought it was far too small even for one person.

Harry parked in his normal spot and ran over to y/n’s side to open the door for her and pick the pizza up from off her lap, the heat from the pizza almost burning her thighs, she didn’t mind, though, it was nearly freezing out (for her). She thanked him as they made their way up the stairs. The bells on her doorknob no longer bothered Harry. Much like her, he’d gotten used to the annoying sound. 

And as per usual, they sat on the edge of her bed, two slices of pizza sat on a plate that rested on her lap, and she waited to start on her piece until Harry had selected something to watch. Entertainment was necessary for consuming a meal, even if she had Harry with her.

He was quiet the rest of the night. It worried her to no end, he hadn’t been like this in some time. And he left at 8 pm, even though he said he’d stay the night, claiming he had a meeting with Niall he had to prepare for. She kissed his cheek and mumbled a good night before he walked out her front door. 

Her tongue was thick in her mouth, lip quivering and eyes welling over with tears that dared to spill at any moment. Her heart pounded in her chest, somehow feeling so heavy but empty at the same time. The anxiety she hadn’t felt in weeks was creeping up her throat, greeting her with a gag and bile toppling to her floor. A vicious way to say “hello, I’ve missed you”. Her mind was reeling, going at a million miles an hour, all thoughts of Harry calling off their date, blocking her phone number and pretending she never existed plagued her mind. She heaved out a sob, pulling her knees to her chest and letting the tears fall freely. She didn’t even care about the mess she had made, she just wanted to sleep and ignore the pain she hadn’t felt in months. The tender ache an unignorable feeling even as she slept. 

+++

H.🕯💌

Good morning, little lamb. Jax will be taking you to work this morning. Please call me when you’re off. Xx

She tenderly held the phone in her hand, a wave of relief flooded her as she read the message, thankful her anxious thoughts were disproven. That was the only good moment of her morning.

As soon as she got out of bed, her right foot stepped into the puddle she had accidentally left overnight. She gagged, covering her mouth with her hand and let out a small scream of disgust. Hopping on one foot, she grabbed a roll of paper towels from her counter and hopped back over to her mess. She practically unraveled half of the roll and laid it over the puddle before wiping her foot off. While cleaning her mess, she calculated how long of a shower would be acceptable this morning in order to not be late to work. If she didn’t make a coffee or have a cigarette that would give her an additional twelve minutes to get ready, and eight of those would be spent in the shower, so maybe she would be able to make a coffee if she allowed it to brew while she showered. If she brushed her teeth in the shower would that give her more time?

Jax was always early, standing next to the back passenger door right outside her apartment building, and sent her a toothy smile. “Sweet pea,” he greeted her as she buried her face in his chest, placing a kiss to the crown of her head. “Rough morning?” she nodded into his chest.

Her shower wasn’t even peaceful, the water was freezing, she almost fell when she got out, barely catching herself on the edge of the sink, and her mascara was not doing her long lashes justice, just leaving clumps of black on the small hairs. 

Just eight hours. Eight hours of orders being barked at her, arguments with the cooks and a small unpleasant interaction with Ross in passing. Just had to get through that and she’d be able to retreat to her home and call Harry and hear his deep, soothing voice. The time would go by quickly, right? It had to, just had to. 

But this was y/n, a girl plagued by an unjust number of unlucky days. The hours went by so slowly, she swore she’d turned 25 by the time her first fifteen minute break came. And she spilled coffee on herself, rolled her ankle and dropped a plate of scrambled eggs, sausage and pancakes all over the vinyl checkered flooring. By 12 pm, she had three cigarettes and four cups of black coffee. She hated black coffee. 

She felt drained by the time 3 pm rolled around, and couldn’t wait for her last table in her section to pay their tab. It was a group of four guys, all around her age and fairly attractive but nothing in comparison to Harry. They had asked her a series of uncomfortable questions and asked her to be in their tiktoks, she politely declined each time they asked, offering a smile and a ‘I’m not allowed to, sorry’ at every request.

Once she had seen them put a card on the receipt on the table, she practically ran over and picked it up off the table to run it through their outdated machine. She was buzzing with excitement. She approached the table, leaving their copy and the diner's copy of the receipt on the edge with the card on top, but they weren’t letting her go that easy. 

“Wait,” one of them, a curly headed brunette, grabbed her arm as she turned to walk off. “Do you have snapchat?” he held his phone out, the app already opened, for her to grab. She wasn’t sure she was hiding her annoyed expression well.

“Oh, I have a boyfriend. Sorry,” she half smiled at them, a dimple carving in only one of her cheeks. 

“You can’t have friends?” he laughed.

“I can.” she deadpanned, “I’m just respectful towards my partner.” 

They all scoffed, the one with a poorly grown mustache rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Whatever, you’re not even that pretty.” She smiled at that. 

+++

“Harry,” y/n whined from the passenger seat, a blindfold covering her eyes while Harry held both her wrists in his right hand. He chuckled at her, barely acknowledging her. 

“Don’t want to hear it, little lamb.”

“But-”

“But nothing.” he squeezed her wrists for a brief second, “gotta be a good girl and stay quiet if you want your surprise.” That had her heart pounding, a pool of warmth between her thighs, but she ignored the sensation. 

“Pleeaaaseee,” she turned her head, pouting at him, or at least she thinks she did. She doesn’t know if he had seen it. 

Harry had told her over the phone that they’d go on their date that night and to wear her bell bottom jeans and to avoid wearing a chunky sweater. She reminded him it was late December in northern California, he simply told her to bring a jacket and that he’d be there at six before hanging up. 

She rummaged through her closet as soon as he hung up to find her jeans, unsure of when she had last worn them or if they were even clean (they weren’t, she had to pay a visit to the small laundry room in her complex and prayed they’d be washed and dried in time). She paired the jeans with a tiny tank top with lace details and bow that embellished the neckline, but covered her top half with her thickest sweatshirt. 

Again, he squeezed her wrists together and shushed her while wearing a grin. 

At some point, she could feel him making four right turns and two u turns at different lights. He was trying to throw her off, she could tell. He had thrown her off the moment he pulled the blindfold out and covered her eyes as she got in his car. He had to resort to holding her wrists, not trusting her after her first attempt to pull it off. 

“Almost there, angel.” he spoke quietly. She just nodded in response, eager to be there already and see what he had planned. She had made up a variety of scenarios, one being a road trip to Disneyland (unrealistic) another being a museum date (also unrealistic, there were no museums in their tiny town). She was buzzing in her seat, anxious to get out and rip the stupid blindfold off. 

The car was shifted into park but Harry still hadn’t released her wrists. She went to whine again to him but he cut her off before she had the chance. 

“If I let go of your wrists, you promise to not peak?” she hesitated but nodded. “Y/n,” he said in a stern tone. 

“Harry,” she whined once more, “I won’t, I won’t I promise.”

“If you peak we’re leaving, got it?” she nodded immediately. “Good girl.” she smiled as he released her wrists. She had to put her hands under her thighs to keep from removing the blindfold. 

Harry opened the door for her and grabbed each of her hands again, but this time he was guiding her. 

“We’re gonna go up a ramp,” he instructed her, allowing her to brace herself for the sudden incline. Her heart pounded in her chest, she felt like vomiting all over again. “Going inside now,” he guided her through the door, holding it open with his elbow. Funky disco music played loudly and she could faintly hear arcade games in the back. 

He continued to guide her throughout the, still unknown, place. She even tried to tip her head back to peak out the small gap but Harry caught her as soon as she made the move. She groaned at him. 

“I’ll take it off right now lamb, don’t be impatient.” She pouted at him as he let go of her hands, grabbing her shoulders instead to position her correctly. “Okay, my little eager bunny,” he took the blindfold off, she squinted at the sudden lights. “Happy first date,” he whispered in her ear, kissing her head. 

Her mouth was agape, slightly frowning, her eyes welling all over again, about to pour over at the sweetest gesture ever made.

The disco music was louder, a man stood in a booth with DJ equipment before him, neon lights roamed the room and a disco ball reflected all over the big, empty space, casting a fluorescent glow on the two. Shooting games, skee ball and an air hockey table was on her right side, behind that a snack counter, a worker messing with her phone stood alone, and behind a grinning Harry, another employee stood with racks of rollerskates behind him. 

He had brought her to the roller rink. The exact one she had brought up the previous day. 

Once Harry noticed her expression, his face fell, his hands going to her waist to pull her into him. “What’s wrong, little lamb?” she shook her head, her tears falling freely, “Baby, please. Please tell me what’s wrong,” Harry’s voice was just above a whisper.

Still she shook her head, sniffling. “Nothing, Harry.” she cried, “this is the sweetest thing anyones ever done for me. It’s so,” she sniffled again, “you’re so perfect.” she scrunched his sweater up with her hands as she burrowed her face into his neck, pecking at the exposed skin. His hands rubbed her back, breathing in a sigh of relief. He had truly thought he messed the whole night up, thinking that maybe when she said she had always wanted to come her she had meant with someone else. He was so grateful for a different answer. “Thank you,” she whispered, kissing his neck once more before releasing her death grip on him and giving him a smile. He grinned back at her and kissed her nose, she giggled.

“Of course, little lamb. I’d do anything for you.” that alone had her ready to sob all over again. “What size, princess?” 

+++

Harry was terrible at skating.

He, for some reason, thought he’d be a pro at it. 

But he was absolutely not a pro, could barely even stand for more than ten seconds without almost losing his balance. He was gripping y/n’s arm so hard it was likely he’d leave a bruise for her to discover the following day. She insisted he use one of those skate mate guides, but he was too stubborn and refused. He fell on his ass right after he scoffed at her for even suggesting it. 

Y/n was holding his hands while she skated backwards, watching his feet and giving him pointers to make it easier. “Keep your knees bent,” she slowed down their speed so he could readjust his stance, his feet almost rolling out from beneath him as he almost wobbled over. She grinned at him even though he was too focused on his feet. 

“Maybe you should skate by yourself for a minute,” he exhaled through his mouth, still looking down at his feet. 

“No, I wanna skate with you.” He just shook his head, letting go of her hands. “Please,” she grabbed his forearm, trying to stabilize him once more. He gave her a half smile. “You’re just trying too hard, I promise it gets easier.”

“Just wanna sit for a minute.”

“Okay.” She helped him to the edge of the rink, watching as he sat down on the bench and ran a hand through his hair. 

“Show me how fast you are, little lamb.” He cocked his head to the side, smirking at her and leaning back on his hands. 

She gulped, the fire deep in her was reignited once more, but again she ignored the feeling. She took off, shuffling her feet beneath her and leaning slightly when the rink curved. The wind on her face felt nice, the heater that filled the room with a warmth that would be comfortable if not trying to skate for two people and her chunky sweatshirt had been overheating her, her cheeks a bright pink. Harry was hollering at her from his spot on the sideline, “See how fast you can go without me? I’m weighing you down, little one.” 

Laughing, she turned on her heel to skate backwards while she passed him, showing off her skills she had learned when she took up skating years ago, and turned right back around to gain more speed.

The DJ was set on playing a mix of the Bee Gees, ABBA and Earth, Wind & Fire, the best skating mix in her opinion. She whirled past Harry in a blur, barely seeing the grin that took up half his face. He shook his head at her, impressed with her ability to not only balance on the skates but also go as fast as she was. He just wished he could be doing it with her. 

“Please come back out, Harry. I won’t let you fall, I promise!” she shouted from across the rink, slowing down her pace and holding her hands together as she approached him, her bottom lip jutting out in a pout. 

“I’ll have to think about it.”

“Please,” she whined, standing right in front of him, her hands still clasped in front of her. 

“Hmmm,” he tapped his chin, mocking her. “No.”

“I thought we were on a date.”

“We are, last I checked.”

“So you have to skate with me, Harry, that’s, like, a rule.” 

He took his bottom lip in his mouth for a moment, watching as she stared at his lips even after he released it. “Fine,” she grinned, and stepped on the platform with the bench to help him up. “I’ll skate with you,” she grabbed his hands, helping him stand up to tower over her. He looked down at her while she grinned up at him, hands still intertwined, but she made no effort to move. Neither did he. 

Slowly, Harry began to lean in, his eyes still piercing into hers, while she tilted her head back. She gulped as he leaned in further to close the distance between their lips, her eyes closing with bliss. 

His lips were soft, plush against her own, his warmth radiating off his body. Gently, his hands broke from her tight grip, resting on her cheeks to pull her closer to him. Her lips were sweet, the blue raspberry Icee she had ordered from the snack counter lingering. Harry reveled in the taste, silently begging for more. He couldn’t get enough. She was soft, delicate in his hands and he held her like a porcelain doll, so incredibly careful to not break the precious glass of her skin. 

She wanted, no, needed more of him. Wanted him to be hers entirely. Wanted to feel him entirely. She gripped the hem of his sweater, whining on his lips as he wouldn’t allow her tongue access to wander where it pleased. She was electric, on fire and still he wasn’t giving her what she wanted.

Hesitantly, he pulled away, sucking on her bottom lip slightly before releasing it. Her eyes fluttered open, pupils dilated, taking up more space than Harry liked. He smiled down at her, longing in his eyes, and kissed her nose before moving his hands to hold hers once again.

“I thought we were here to skate?” he teased, rubbing the back of her hand with his thumb. She, naturally, smushed her face into his chest again, taking in the scent of his cologne, her newfound favorite scent. Pine. 

“Wanna go home,” she mumbled into the wool of his sweater. 

“Hmm, why’s that?”

“Wanna lay with you and sleep,” still muffled. 

Harry exhaled deeply through his nose, breaking his gaze set at the crown of her head, suddenly fearful he had ruined her night by innocently kissing her. He removed one of his hands from hers, patting her on the back before slightly pushing her away. “You sure?” she nodded. “Okay, let’s go.”

“Will we be able to come back? How much longer will they be open?”

He grinned, “whenever you liked. I know the new owner.” He didn’t mention it was himself. 

+++

The tv played quietly, a rerun of Bojack Horseman playing (the talking horse show as Harry liked to call it) while she slept on his chest. A snoopy blanket covered her boy as Harry laid succumbing to the cold bite of her apartment. He didn’t mind the chill, wouldn’t even mind freezing if it meant she’d be with him as he endured the hypothermic shock. The pain would serve as a reminder that they both were real and together. 

In a whisper, an “I love you” was heard. 

crying only because i'm happy

tags: @tiaamberxx @jerseygirlinca @n0vaj3an @tpwk-mia @indierockgirrl @buckybarnessimpp @hannah9921 @love-letters-to-uranus @ribbonknives @annesauriol @moneybaby07 @stylesfever @hermionelove

[popculturebuffet]

TMNT Month: Turtle Tunes and We Wish You A Turtles Christmas: Not So Erotic Nightmares Beyond Any Measure and Christmas Fever Dreams to Treasure Forever (Comission for Emma Fici)

Hello all you happy people and welcome back to turtles month. Thanks to a schedule change, we're looking at another piece of weird turtles media coming as the franchise was loosing steam and someone was huffing that steam to try and come up with new ideas.

As a result we got two direct to vhs specials, designed to try to eat into that sweet sweet DTV market that was starting to really take off at the time and would do so long into my childhood and long after. These specials go for a younger audience, I suspect trying to get some of that barney money. They did not and we only got two and the world was spared the third that would've triggered the end times.

As you can see just looking at the covers for these things they had the budget of a paper clip and a piece of string, and it shows. The turtles have horrifying barley moving heads that insure they'll be your sleep paralysis demon for years to come. But beyond the terrible costumes what do these specails have? Well not a lot and everything respectively so let's talk about them, and hopefully make my night terrors worth the money under the cut

Turtle Tunes has an objectively weird premise. It's not a horrible one for doing some goofy less actiony videos as these costumes would tear apart if the wind blew on them slightly, I can't imagine them doing full on fight scenes like the movies, but it's still weird for the nonexistant budget this thing has.

So the turtles got a hookup from april to host their own show on channel 6 and were this just a tmnt version of waynes world i'd have watched this years ago. Also something to keep in mind for the mutant mayhem verse. Just saying.

But no their instead just counting down their faviorite songs.. and rather than say use the ones from out of our shells which are actually pretty good, or make some up they decide to do covers of various public domain songs and still present it like it's TRL. Do kids still know what TRL was? I.. I feel old.

Anyways, the Turtles rather than have April, who agreed to this in the first place, Splinter or Casey help out, instead have a bunch of random kids serve as their crew and boss them around. Also Mikey runs off and apparently does this all the time. Just goes to skateboard around the park and do mushrooms, living his best life.

As for the rest of the plot

This vid is just an excuse to do terrible covers of public domain songs.. and a loose one of Rick Springfield's don't talk to strangers. I'm dead serious. I mean the song IS a mild banger and using it for an actual anti stranger message and not Rick Springfield desperatly trying to stop his girlfriend from leaving him, but it's left as atonal garbage.

I don't have much for this one. I mean it has Leo on a rowboat as he slowly dies inside, that's kinda funny and it's weird they chose to do that one to yankee doodle dandy instead of row row row your boat, but I stand by their dumbass decision. At least Leo struggling to breath as he rows a boat is funny. Everything else is just bland: the turtles talk over each other, announce videos and somehow get renewed, though I think the renewal is really an excuse to get them out into the open and into a woodchipper.

Turtle Tunes proves, in the words of our prophet huey lewis, sometimes bad is bad. Sometimes cheese can be really funny, this is just 20 some minutes of my life I won't get back.

Thankfully We Wish You A Turtles Christmas, which emma and I watched before is so bad it's good. It's gloriosuly stupid, cheap and while still using music videos to pad things, is far more creative with them. This feels more like a tmnt product.. one that was written by a sentient mound of cocaine, but still a thing people put actually efort into at least feeling like a tmnt vide0 Turtles tunes could have any obnoxious mascot jammed in it. It could've been Busby Tunes... imagine him announcing videos and doing stuff and

Okay maybe it's thanks to saftey regulations we got the turtles, but still you could've also just.. put an opossum on screen to music. There's a line and a few layers of hell between TMNT and Bubsy

We Wish You A Turtles Christmas is the good kind of crack to Turtle Tunes shard of glass they tell you is crack, taking a straightforward tale of "the turtles forget to get a gift and have to go get it" and making it baffling as it is hilaroius.

So our story begins with We're the Turtles, the theme song for both tapes where their turtles and their on the look out for a friend in need that's what their about... and never actually find one too busy as they laugh and sing and do their thing their the turtles. Their the turtles. It's this weird durge that gets glued to your brain.

So it's christmas eve and the turtles are joking, putting presents under the tree while Leonardo sings Reggage, you know what everyone does every christmas. Or else.

Leo is horribly out of character in both these specials, taking being a stern big brother type who leads the team and tries to keep them on task and making him a dick who insults his brothers and also the mutant equilvent of Ras Trent.

As for the reggae song itself it's deck the halls but TO A REGGAE BEAT MON. CULTURAL APROPRATION POWER! It's the clear seperation from this special and turtle tunes; Turtle Tunes is KINDA weird, We Wish You A Turtles Christmas is FUCKING weird. You have a scooby dooby doo doo laden song about decking the halls that both is happy Bebeop and Rocksteady aren't here yet wishes a merry christmas to the shredder, while also having a beat drop for some reason. It's beautiful and I never want to hear it again.

The turtles then have a horrifying relization: WE FORGOT TO GET A GIFT FOR SPLINTER. I do like HOW this comes about as it's the only part of this special that's not written by a guy who was told the basics about the turtles then told to write a christmas special or they'd release the bees. The boys all thought one of the others had the duty: it's a sitcom cliche sure but one that would happen to a family.

So they have to go shopping on christmas eve with a rousing rendention of over the river and through the woods "up through the sewer"... or sleep inducing. Let's go with coma-tastic, sounds snappier.

We get to the surface for what's the best song of the special. A subterranian bar but it's the upbeat and peppy gotta get a gift for splinter. It has dancing, random children out on christmas eve busking, ryming gotta gift for splinter with "I hate shopping in the winter", and suggesting they get him a go cart "a go cart in the sewer baby!" while aruging. This sibling bantering and bickering at least is a little fun.

We then get to the most inexplicable part of this special.. and yes

As Mikey decides to sing opera. And this alone would be amazing just for the sheer what the fuckery.. but the turtles annoyed reactions and implication he does this a lot just sell it. The bit's dumb, but like this special it's also fun. No one not even the characters know why the fuck this is happeing.

After that our turtles return home to wrap they also decide.. TO RAP. Yes it's time for the Rap every bit of 90's childrens media thought they could do. It's as painfully awkward as you could hope for. Not as awkard as the rasta bit because it has a little bit of a beat but it sure does exist, i'll give it that.

So with that we get the climax as the turtles all get vauge gifts and give Splinter a 12 days of christmas themeed barrage of gifts while awkwardly sings about them. I do love how he looses pace towards the end and looses his space and his delighted "nailed it" when he catches up. Splinters singing is stiff as it's clear his actor cannot sing int he character voice, but I'll give him points for enthussim

So the gifts they got are

Twelve April O'Neil autographs

Eleven pairs of sneakers

Ten yellow yo-yos

Nine narrow neckties

Eight chopsticks

Seven silk kimonos

Six frisbees

Five video games

Four man-hole covers

Three skateboards

Two comic books

And a pizza with pepperoni

It's a bizzare assortment something you notice while listening but really looking at the lyrics, thanks turtlepedia for having those so I didn't have to listen to this song in full again to find em all, you see just how slapdash it is. It's in character but it dosen't make it any less bizzare as this list is not played for laughs. So we have 12 autographs from someone they know and likely got in a rush, elven pairs of sneakers which.. is honestly quite nice they found them in his size as while it's not his style of footwear i'm sure splinter would love some shoes after walking in the sewer barefoot for nearly two decades, ten yellow yo yos clearly from the dollar store, nine narrow neckties which while the specitfication weird is a classic parent ot child they don't know too well gift, eight chopsticks which is just.. .did you guys go for chinese and realize you missed a gift for your schitck, seven silk kimonos which is kind thougthful and a good gift, six frisbees because they went back to the dollar store, five video games all copies of the first NES game no one wanted, four man hole covers because theft is okay if it's christmas, three skateboards because splinter can shred man, two comic books which is just aweirdly low number and a pizza with pepperoni which is the most self serving as we all know Splitner prefers sushi.

Finally we have the title song.. which is eh. I don't have much to say its there for a moment, it's gone and they all rock out ending the special.

We Wish You A Turtles Christmas is something you have to experince at least once: it's baffling, stupid and hilarious and i'm glad to share it all with you. I encourage you to watch it.. and leave turtle tunes in a dumpster where you likely found it. Thanks for reading and remember i'm pullin for you, we're all in this together.

[goatchulu]

jealous! lucifer x gender neutral! reader

Genre: fluff, ig? slight smut in the end.

Fandom: obey me!

Prompt: you find yourself in a fake relationship, and now you're introducing your "boyfriend" to the demom brothers. they don't take it so well, especially lucifer.

Warnings: mentions of drinking, mentions of harassment and stalking, they make out in the end, reader's gender is unmentioned for your imagination (and inclusion).

lucifer takes another swig of his whisky, a slight burning sensation lingering on his throat. no matter the amount of alcohol he consumed that night, he couldn't escape the bitter feeling that was left inside his chest.

the two of you have been hitting it off pretty well for the past few weeks, if he could say so himself. the harmless complimenting and the subtle glancing had turned into ardent flirting and shows of affection overtime. you two were finally going somewhere with your mutual pinning, or so he thought.

lucifer didn't think his small (not so small) crush on you would lead anywhere, really. nor did he think you would reciprocate his infatuation. but with all the friendly interactions you had of late, anyone would assume you two were together in a romantic light.

now look, lucifer prides himself as a person. he was assertive, efficient, productive, level-headed and the voice of reason when stress is most prominent. but as a lover? lucifer wasn't so sure. he assumed you'd like someone more jolly and eccentric like mammon or someone more confident and charismatic like asmodeus. he didn't expect for you to even spare him a second glance when it came to the dating game. lucifer was a busy man after all, and he wasn't the most expressive when it came to emotions; not very ideal for a lover.

but what lucifer also did not expect was for you to bring home a common demon boy and introduce him as your significant other.

let's just say that all the built up tension and courting were all ruined by a single dinner party.

you had gathered all the demon brothers earlier that morning, claiming you had an important announcement to make. you went as far as inviting diavolo and his loyal butler, barbatos, to spend the evening over for dinner. they thanked you for the invitation, but they unfortunately, could not attend because of their hectic schedules.

lucifer, on the other hand, was more than happy to accept your invitation (though he was quick to cover up the smile he held when you came up to him). seeing as he already lives under the same roof as you, anways. his happiness would soon be diminished and grinded into dirty, pathetic, dust, though.

lucifer's eyes narrow as mammon's loud laughter bounces off the walls of the dining room. lucienne, your "boyfriend", had managed to crack the demon up with one of his silly stories about a strange elderly wizard that sold expensive medication made out of fairy wings that turned out to just be bedazzled dragon fly wings. he worked wonders with the avatar of greed, considering the fact that just a moment ago, mammon was cursing in jealousy and resentment as you sat with your newly introduced boyfriend.

luficer would've told mammon to shut up, but he feared saying something far more vulgar out of anger. the previous tension was already eased into a more domesticated athmosphere (credits to lucienne's charm and humor), lucifer didn't want to ruin dinner for his brothers, and especially not for you.

i mean, lucifer felt betrayed, he felt used and-- and played. how could you lead him on like this? but deep inside, he knew there was something else. he felt disappointed, he felt defeated, he felt crushed, he wished he'd done something sooner before this lucienne stole you away from him.

but anyways, back to the dinner party.

"you seem unusually quiet, lucy." asmo teases from across lucifer's seat. the phrase seems to capture everyone's attention, all eyes now on the grimacing and glaring lucifer.

"asmo's right, you haven't uttered a word since lucienne arrived, lucifer. is something wrong?" you chime in, causing lucifer to perk up. the thought of you worrying about his state sent sparks into his heart, but they were quick to disappear when lucienne asks him the same question.

"i'm fine." he replies to your concern, unable to hide the venom that strung on to his words. this only causes asmodeus to snicker, and leviathan to sink deeper into his seat. everyone else watches in concern as lucifer downs another glass of demom whiskey. you're about to ask him again, unsure about his reply, but he stops you before you could even form a word.

"i said i'm fine."

the air is tense, until eventually, mammon gasps out of nowhere. "don't tell me! lucifer is jealous!!~" he repeats in a sing song manner, only irking lucifer even further. no one else speaks up, the whole situation akward enough.

after a while, though, lucienne speaks up. he gestures at mammon, especially. hoping to stop the demon from escalating the situation. "hey mammon, wanna hear about that one time i accidentally professed my love for my eight grade math teacher?" mammon only settles back into his seat, ready for another laughing fit. the avatar of pride snaps at this, slamming his fists down the table before abruptly excusing himself with a "i have something to do."

he spares you one last glance. his heart aching with guilt from the way you had lowered your head in shame. lucifer didn't want to make you feel like he owned you, or that you weren't allowed to be with someone else... he just, he has enough reason to justify his anger right now and he really wants to dwell in it. he turns his head away from you, biting his lip to contain the guilt and pain that was threatening to seep out. he doesn't turn to look back as he walks away from the dining room in long and rushed strides.

lucifer walks down the dark hallways of lamentation, familiar with every nook and cranny the mansion had. he sighs in relief as his palm reaches out for a familiar door. it creaks as lucifer walks into his room, sounding just as glum as lucifer is.

he heads straight to his paperwork, silently hoping that they would provide him some sort of comfort. he tries to focus on anything but the thought of you or your unavailability, his mind barely processing any of the words that were printed out in front of him. he groans, his hands pulling on his jet black hair in frustration.

i mean, he should've expected this. lucienne was everything lucifer thought you would love. funny outgoing, caring, expressive, charismatic, a smooth talker and he looked at you with utmost respect and admiration. i mean, who in their right mind would choose old-schooled lucifer over the flawless lucienne?

you deserve lucienne and although lucifer thinks that no one in the three realms could ever deserve to call you theirs, he still thinks that lucienne is more deserving of you than lucifer could ever be. what were you doing to the poor demon? he was never one to admit defeat like this, and he especially wasn't the type of person that'd lower themself like this.

his rollercoaster of thoughts are interrupted by a gentle knock on the door. his ears already familiar with this particular knocking pattern. he can't help but straighten himself up, suddenly aware of the way his hair is all sprawled out. he slicks it down with saliva, muttering a small "enter" soon after he finshes checking on his appearance.

his mood lightens just a little bit at the sight of your face. as much as lucifer wants to hate you right now, he couldn't possibly feel that way towards you. never, not in a quadrillion light years.

you sit down in front of him, a genuine look of concern on your face. this makes lucifer visibly frown, catching you a bit off guard. "i wanted to talk to you about something, lucifer." his eyes grow curious and a bit hopeful, wishing it were about something that would distract him from the current situation or give him even the tiniest bit of closure.

"it's about lucienne." and once again, you manage to crush all his hope with only a few words. lucifer swears that if he hears that name one more time, he would personally shove your lovely boyfriend down the deepest depths of the underworld.

you watch his brows furrow and his fist tighten on his quill. lucifer looks far from happy to hear you talk about your significant other right now. "look, i know you'd rather not hear about lucienne again, but it's really really important and i want you to just hear me out. just this once, please?"

lucifer couldn't stand the pleading look you were giving him. your puppy eyes were a weapon that you used on him often, and they always managed to work. a tired sigh leaves his lips, if it meant getting it over with then he'd listen. "fine," he snaps, not before rubbing at his temple in obvious distress. he's said fine, but his body language told you otherwise.

"someone's kind of harassing lucienne at the moment. stalking him, giving him unwanted gifts and constantly professing their love for him when he's told them multiple times that it made him uncomfortable. they're an admirer of some sorts. i'm posing as lucienne's lover in hopes that they'd back off for a while, but i wanted to see if you and diavolo could do some actual help. it's worrisome, really. and it's been stressing lucienne out for the past couple of weeks. pretending to be his significant other is the most i can do for him, i hope you understand."

lucifer only freezes in shock, guilt washing over him all so suddenly. you call out for him, effectively snapping him out of his short daze. of course you'd offer to help lucienne out, you've always been a kind person. in lucifer's eyes, atleast. he coughs into his hand, avoiding eye contact with you as he degrades himself for his previous selfishness.

"of course, i'll do my best to make sure this harasser is punished. the school and i will ensure that lucienne won't be seeing this stalker anytime soon. just keep supporting him like this, i suppose. tell him he can sleep here for the night. thank you for informing me about this." you smile at lucifer's response, relief overwhelming your senses. if this meant that lucienne was finally going to be safe and unbothered, you were overjoyed.

you jump at lucifer, thanking him, all the while, squeezing the life out of him. his heart races impossibly fast at the gesture, and you can't help but smirk at the red that tainted his cheeks. "just so you know, i still like you. and only you, lucy."

his breath comes to a halt. he was no longer able to contain the butterflies that crowded his stomach; shock and well, pure bliss apparent on his face. "does this mean i can kiss you?"

"do anything as you please."

lucifer lunges at you. capturing your lips into a hungry and impatient kiss. his hands roam all over your torso, looking for anything he could hold onto. he settles for your waist and you drape your hands over his shoulders. heaven knows how long he's been waiting for this moment.

he manages to stumble through his room, leading you two to his bed. you part as he pushes you down to sit at the end of his king sized bed. he grins at the sight of you, disheveled and thirsty for more. the avatar of pride couldn't help but be excited for the faces you'll make in the unholy endeavors he's planning for you. he'll devour you, tear apart every innocent limb you have in your body. his imagination runs wild as he thinks of the many ways he'd mark you as his, exhibit you to the world and spread you wide open for his contenders to see. for them to know just how pathetic and needy lucifer could make you in an instant.

he bends down to kiss you again, pushing against your tounge with his own. he squeezes your thighs, digging his nails deep into the skin under the cloth still covering you. groans and grunts leave your lips as he countinues to caress your plush thighs.

as you two part, panting, a newfound possessiveness overtakes lucifer's eyes.

"you're mine."

[hoonhrt]

MUSIC SHOP 

: pairing — idol! heeseung x music store worker! reader 

: genre — fluff 

: album recc. — case study 01 by daniel caesar and any of the albums i mentioned throughout the story! 

: a/n — this is a little more on the lengthier side so please know that before reading! (i couldn’t help myself i luv hee too much) 

it was a slow day at the shop. the dim fairy lights hung around lowly, making the atmosphere feel even slower. you walked around the store pushing a small grey cart that held all the albums, records, and cassette tapes one could ever imagine of, placing everything in their correct spots for future consumers to find. 

the sound of a faint bell was heard from the back of the store. where you were, indicating that someone had came in. you flatten out the front of your sweater and rush to greet the costumer. you are met with a tall man dressed in all black from head to toe, water droplets fell off the shoulder of his jacket and you make a mental note to mop the floor later. 

“hello! welcome to moonshines music. please let me know if you need help with anything, i’ll be happy to assist!” you cheerfully exclaim. you welcome costumers with a joyful energy that even cheers them up, it was your thing. the costumer pulled down the black mask from his face and waited for you to react. he was a slightly astonished when a reaction never came. no gasps, no eyes widening, no realization of who he was. just you with a firm smile on your face waiting for him to walk away and start shopping. he eyes you for a little before nodding his head and makes his way to the direction of the CD albums.

he pondered this feeling for a little. he wasn’t used to not being recognized. i mean, everyone knows him. he was on ever magazine cover and topped all the charts with his music. his face was plastered on every product poster that covered the walls of the busy city. so how could you not? he thinks that maybe you didn’t want to scare him off or bother him with pictures and autographs,  inflating his ego a little bit. but still, why did you not say anything? 

“excuse me! do you mind helping me out?” you could hear his voice from across the store as he shouted for you. jogging from your previous to his still figure. 

“how can i help you?” continuing on your energetic personality. he didn’t have a real reason to ask for help, he was just too intrigued by you and needed a reason to converse with you. he looks around the store frantically for a minuet before looking back behind him to the CD’s he initially walked towards. “can you choose an album for me?” he blurts in your face loudly. 

this wasn’t the first time someone asked for music recommendations but he walked in with confidence so you assumed he was a man who knew his music. “uhh yes um— do you perhaps have favourite genre that you maybe like?” you question him. he just stares at you, his lips folded in with a blank expression on his face. he shakes his head no. you politely nod again, now even more conflicted with what to recommend. you trail your eyes around the store till you see through the window next to the door. the sky is crying, whilst gray clouds surround it. the streetlight emitting an orange hue that reflect the fallen rain drops on the glass and you suddenly remember the small drops of water that trickled down his jacket sleeve when he first entered the store. 

walking behind him you scan for the letter D section and begin to search for the album. letting out a soft ‘hmm’ before pulling out the album and handing it to him. “Case Study 01 by Daniel Caesar. perfect for rainy days when you aren’t lost in your thoughts.” you end with a smile on your face. ‘so they really have no idea to who I am, huh’ he thinks to himself. he looks down at the album in his hands than looking back up at you. a gentle smile reaching his lips. he follows you to the cashier register and pushes the album towards you. “that’ll be $10.15! card or cash?” he whips out his wallet and takes out a credit card. you can’t help but notice it was a black card, a card only the richest of people have. you wonder how this man can be so rich and why he is buying from a tiny music store in the middle of a unknown area. 

you’re pulled away from your thoughts when the sound of the machine goes off,  indicating the purchase has gone through. you delicately place the album into a tiny bag and hand it over to him with glee. “enjoy the album sir! if you ever do comeback, let me know what you thought about it!” you say in a courteous manner. the young man now looks at you with a toothy grin on display for you to awe at. he nods in affirmation before exiting. the atmosphere becoming quiet again. you hoped to see that man again. 

another week has rolled around. you hum under your breath a silly little tune from a song on one of your many playlists, sending another customer off a new record they seemed to be extremely excited about. your job wasn’t much but seeing people share the same love for music as you was something that never failed to make you love life. wiping down the cashier, you hear the door chime and see the same handsome man from last week. you catch a glimpse of the clear sky and the natural light of the sun from out the door as he enters. 

“i LOVED that album! you described it literally perfectly, it fit the vibes of the weather sooo much but didn’t leave me agonizing about life like how the rain usually makes me feel.” it made you so happy and almost accomplished to have someone come back and praise you for your music choice. you were about to start telling him it was no big deal before he proposes, again, to choose another album for him. you look at him a little unsure, you honestly didn’t know what to give him this time and you were scared he wouldn’t like it this time. he can see the anxiety flush over your face but lets you know he is looking for something this time. “give me your childhood favourite album. like, you know every single lyric for every song on this album.” your eyes go wide as you practically jump towards the shelf. he giggles quietly, thinking how cute you looked. 

you prance towards the shelf knowing exactly where it was. in your hands was the Up All Night by One Direction, you shove the album into his hands with a passionate smile. he looks at you and tries to hide his judgment from you, which doesn’t work as you can see his eyebrow arch up and study the album in slight disgust. “hey! i danced to this album every night before i went to sleep for 3 years as a kid okay? it’s my favourite album!” your bottom lip pushes out, gazing at him with eyes the resemble a cute puppy. he throws his head back lets out a laugh that you think you could listen to for hours on end. 

just as the prior week, he passes you the album to scan through and pulls out his card to pay. he was about to make his way out before you stop him. “can I have your name?” you requested. you took a liking to the kind guy, he had a pretty face and laugh that you particularly enjoyed. he checks his phone and swiftly swipes through the millions of notifications he has, then gazing back up at you. a genuine look plastered on your face. a look that feigned innocence, kept promises, and truly enjoyed life for what it was. “heeseung. my name is heeseung.” 

you tug the key out of the door lock with a little force. the moon created a source of light and comfort as you made your way away from the shop and towards the subway station. you worked longer than usual and fatigue was the only thing felt within your weak bones. a car pulled up next to you, the window rolled down and revealed the person that has been occupying your thoughts recently, heeseung. 

“on your way home?” you nod. “hop in, i’ll drive you home, we can listen to some music while we’re at it.” now you usually don’t just get into random peoples car, but you trusted him. who else would listen One Direction because someone asked them to? 

his car was black from top to bottom, mirroring his outfits that he always wore. the windows were tinted and it looked intimidating from the outside, but on the inside sat a doe-eyed boy with the prettiest smile to exist. heeseung’s hand reaches out to turn up the volume of the car sound system. the sound of Frank Ocean’s voice fills up the empty sound within his car. it was song you were unfamiliar with. you ask what song this was and he lets out a dramatic gasp, almost looking offended. “you DON’T know this song? I guess pretty people can have flaws huh,” he turns his head to watch you flush a pink shade that can still be seen despite the darkness. a sight he thinks is quiet lovable. 

the car ride to your home lasted much shorter than you wished it did. you two talked about everything under the moon. favourite songs, old childhood friends, past lovers. heeseung enjoyed the fact that you didn’t know his career identity. to the world he was Lee Heeseung, world renowned singer and model, but to you he was just, heeseung. a young boy who loved music and loved the world involved around it. you made him feel like a regular person again. 

as you open the car door to make way into the glass doors of your apartment complex, heeseung grabs your wrist and pulls you back into the car. “how about... i lend you my favourite album this time, and next week on—” he checks the schedule his manager sent him, “saturday at 6 pm, i pick you up and we can talk more about it hm?” he holds his phone towards you with a cheeky smile on his face. you shake your head in disbelief as you bit back a smile of your own that is creeping on to your face. “I’ll see you then, hee.” your heart skipping beats as you walk away from the running vehicle. 

unbeknownst to you, an excited heeseung punches the air rapidly with excitement. he silently screams into the night like a kid. feeling as if he was on cloud 9 to have scored a date with someone who’s a) the most beautiful person he’s ever seen and b) someone who likes him for his truest self. 

[diavolosthots]

Hey Queen! Beautiful Queen whom I love and adore! <3 It's me! Your bitch! That bitch! I was just thinking like, some wholesome Belphie is very much needed everywhere and for everyone. Like, MC is feeling super cuddly and stuff and they go to Belphie and it's just super fluffy and super cute, and really sweet - @belphies-cuhm-sluht <3

I scrolled until I found your request because I know you need it and I hope you feel better soon, cutie @belphies-cuhm-sluht

Cow Pillow (BELPHEGOR X GN!READER)

It used to be that sleeping your life away felt almost like a sin, like it wasn’t allowed. There was a time for sleeping and there was a time for doing things and out of 24 hours in a day, only eight could be spent resting or you’d feel guilty. Maybe it’s the work drive in you or maybe it’s the feeling of endless guilt that makes you feel like you have to prove yourself by doing things, more things, and definitely things done better than by others. Maybe it’s also because too many people called you lazy throughout your life so you vowed to never be lazy, somewhat neglecting your own self to prove to others that you were worth it. Who cares if you suffered, as long as everyone else was happy with you, right? 

But throughout the years you found loopholes in that. They’re not even loopholes, but to you it makes more sense, and it makes you feel less guilty, rather than outright admitting that you like being lazy. These loopholes range from things like “I have spring allergies so I need some more rest…” to “well, it’s technically not due until the 25th…” to “People deserve love and affection and cuddling is my preferred type. It’s necessary to be loved in order to function.” All of these are valid all on their own, and yes, all of them are considered valid reasons, but it still makes you feel guilty admitting that, so you call them loopholes. Life’s loopholes to make you feel a little less shitty about something that’s, in all actuality, completely normal. 

Today’s ‘loophole’ however, was actually something new to you, kind of. It was rainy and storming; the perfect weather to kick back and just relax. Maybe read a book so you couldn’t call yourself completely lazy. After all, reading does challenge the brain and as long as you’re stimulating some part of yourself, whether that be mental or physical, it’s okay, right? It totally counts. But you also had someone with you that’s… the complete opposite of you and he lured you in. He lures you into the deep depths of laziness that you’re unsure you’ll ever be able to get out of once you’re in them. It’s almost creepy how he does it, too, without even lifting a finger. Without a worry in his mind. Without… trying. 

Belphegor didn’t care what people thought and somewhere, you admired him for that. He made it seem so easy. So what, he sleeps for 36 hours straight and no one bats an eye. If they do, he just avoids them. He doesn’t even pretend to give them the time of day and he’s explained it to you many times before. “Why would I worry about people I will never have to deal with, ever? Now that’s tiresome.” and it made sense. It would be tiresome to constantly think about how other people view you, don’t you think? Belphegor himself is hated by some, neutral for many, and loved by few, but he doesn’t care. The few people that love him, love him a whole lot and that’s all it takes for him. Maybe it’s also easier for him because that’s his avatar. Maybe. He does wonder how you do worry so much, though, because to him, that is crazy. 

He actually made it a point to influence you as much as he can just because you’re almost as bad as Lucifer when it comes to getting stuff done and besides the fact that it’s, in his eyes, annoying, he also doesn’t want someone as interesting as you to end up with Lucifer. What’s that supposed to be? Wanna-be dad and step-parent? The last thing he needs is for the person he’s interested in to call him son. No thank you. Anyway, he made it a point to enter your dreams and drag them out a little bit (a lot) longer than they’d usually have. The small “oh my God I slept through my alarm!” that he heard the first few times had him laughing, but also thinking about how adorable it is. “You worry too much…” is what he’d mumble in his own sleepy voice. 

Now it’s gotten to a point where he openly talks to you in your dreams and you willingly drag things out with him, but when you try to do the same in the actual world? He pretends to be asleep. Not because he doesn’t like talking to you, but he just feels more comfortable when he’s somewhat in control and can remove himself from the situation if need be, you know? That’s why he keeps his distance. He did openly admit that to you, though, and that’s fine. At least you know where he stands and that he doesn’t hate you. However, today you just… you just can’t wait until you fall asleep and until he enters your mind. It’s raining outside and you feel somewhat lonely. You’re in need of company and he’s your favorite type of company, even if you mainly hang out together in your mind. So today, you decided to just go into his room and join him. The worst he can do is say no, right? 

But he didn’t even do that. As a matter of fact, he didn’t even realize you entered until you stood in front of him and in all honesty, he didn’t even fully register that either. It’s more like… he realizes he’s not alone but he’s also not awake and he definitely doesn’t care enough to open his eyes. “Hm?” You were already whispering his name, explaining awkwardly that you just needed to cuddle. “Cuddle…” he just repeated the last word, rolling over onto his back and for a moment you feared he didn’t even recognize a thing you just said. “Okay… come here then.” “Hm? Are you sure? I can leave again Belphie…” Maybe you should take this day to do something productive? Everyone else will already be lazy so one person should do something, right? 

“Yes, come here. Lay down so I can lay on you.” He’s still not opening his eyes, only scooting back for you to join him on his bed and then waiting. You can either join or leave again and he doesn’t really care which option you choose. Except he does. He just won’t admit it if you choose wrong. “O...okay… yeah. I’m already here.” And you really, really would like to cuddle with him, after all. You laid down beside him, carefully, trying to respect his boundaries but also trying to remember that he did want to lay on you so should You lay on your back? “Oh… oh yeah okay this is fine.” You couldn’t even ask him because the minute he felt the bed dip, he moved back closer to you and curled into your side, placing his head on your chest and wrapping his arm around you. 

“Is this okay? Belphie?” He only hummed in response, nuzzling into you, and you carefully wrapped your arms around him too. It felt nice. Really nice, and you found yourself relaxing almost immediately, although you did blame it on Belphie more than anything. He does have that calming effect on people after all. “You’re better than the pillow, but…” You looked down at his head confused until you felt him shift, his face buried deep in your chest now while he tried to keep his horns away from poking you. His tail swayed behind him for a second before wrapping around your waist right beside his arms. “That’s better…” you looked at him, poking his horn for a moment before laughing. How is this better? How is this comfortable? Can he breathe? He must be breathing otherwise he wouldn’t lay like this, right? 

“You worry too much…” “What?” How did he know? You weren’t even asleep yet. He chuckled, lifting his head a bit and smiling at you, eyes still closed. “I don’t need you to be asleep in order to be inside your head… stop worrying so much. I know you want this.” He put his head back down right after, his whole body relaxing against yours and for a moment you wondered if this actually happened. “Belphie… I just…!” “Yeah I know. You want this but you worry about not doing enough. Just shut up already, okay? You, of all people, deserve to relax and what better way to relax than with me? Just ssshh… go to sleep. I won’t let you leave until I decide that you have rested enough.” And by that he means… you’re stuck with him on top of you until the next day has come and he’s thoroughly convinced you took some time for yourself. 

“You’re so silly, Belphie…” But it also felt really, really nice to have someone that seemed to care so much. And he does. He cares a lot. And he wishes you’d be more like him, in a sense, but then again… he’d just keep you with him at all times and make you his new cow pillow. It’s not like that’s going to be an issue, though, right? 

[wtf-yoongi]

Spoiled. / JJK

pairing | jungkook x reader

summary | jeon jungkook is too tired to care about anything so it’s a good thing he has you aka you have to make sure he doesn’t skip skincare bc that’s very important

genre/warnings | fluffy fluff

words | 987

note | someone requested a thing i already wanted to write :))))

You knew what was coming when you felt the weight of Jungkook’s head on your shoulder on your way home. 

Actually, you knew what was coming even before that — when he walked to you with lazy steps and you welcomed him into your arms. His whole body was warm from the shower, hair wet and dripping on your t-shirt. Jungkook hummed sleepily when you rubbed his back.

“I’m so ready to go to bed,” he mumbled.

“Well, it’s a good thing I’m here to take you home.”

Now, just under thirty minutes after that, you find yourself delicately turning his face, hands careful not to disturb him too much — just enough to wake up and drag himself upstairs. 

It takes a few tries, a lot of Guk, we’re home and some baby, wake up a little, but you’re finally able to make him open his eyes, conscious enough to leave the car and take your hand on the way to the elevators. You quickly bow to the driver and wish him goodnight before rushing to open the glass door before sleepy Jungkook hits his head trying to walk through it.

While you wait for the elevator, Jungkook once again rests his head on your shoulders. He doesn’t say anything and neither do you, but you keep caressing his jaw the way you know he likes it — the palm of your hand steady while your thumb lightly moves from side to side. That alone is worth all the things you want to say, more than a thousand words.

It’s okay, we’re almost there. Just a couple more minutes. I hate to see you tired like this. You never listen to me when I tell you to take it easy. You need to rest. Have you even eaten properly today? It’s a good thing you already took a shower because I sure wouldn’t sleep next to you if you hadn’t. I accidentally washed the sheets with two doses of fabric softener so it’s extra perfumed. I hope it’s not too much. Damn it, I know you won’t let me blow dry your hair, but you really should.

The elevator beeps and the doors open. A minute later, the front door is the one beeping and letting you in. 

Both of your shoes are thrown haphazardly as soon as you step foot inside. You guide Jungkook on the way to your room, both hands loosely holding onto his hips and directing his body through the corridor. Once there, he doesn’t waste a second, throwing himself on the overly perfumed gray sheets with a groan. Jungkook tried his best to pull you with him, but it’s easy to beat him when he is sleepy.

With an airy laugh, he speaks. “Well, close enough. Can’t say I didn’t try.”

“Don’t you think for a second I’m going to let you sleep like this,” you say just as Jungkook starts to pull the covers from underneath his body. “No, no, no, you’re changing into something else. Come on.”

Just then, you reach for his arms to stop his movements and Jungkook groans again, but, this time, completely defeated. He doesn’t have it in him to fight you and, deep down, he knows you’re right. He shouldn’t sleep in a jean shirt, no matter how comfortable he thinks it is right now. 

Delicately, you sit next to his torso, quickly working on undoing the buttons to free his body from the thick fabric. “I’m also not letting you sleep shirtless. It’s too cold for that,” you add, getting up to grab a basic t-shirt from the nearest drawer. 

“No, it’s not.”

“Yes, it is,” you emphasize, closing the drawer with a low thud. “Sit up a little. I promise to let you sleep after this.”

A low sigh leaves Jungkook’s lips, which soon come to a pout. “I showered and even brushed my teeth before thinking I’d be able to go to bed as soon as I got home,” he pauses for a second while the cotton runs past his head with the help of your hands. “And you’re not letting me.”

“Well, to be honest, you are in bed.” You giggle and Jungkook’s pout melts into a weak, sleepy smile. “Lie down, I’m going to get your stuff.”

“What stuff?” 

“Your skincare stuff.”

“Oh, okay.”

From the corner of your eye, you can see Jungkook once again moving to get underneath the comforter — this time, however, he succeeds. When you walk back from the bathroom, hands busy with bottles and glass containers, he’s already looking half unconscious, eyes closed and breathing as even as it gets.

You try your best to carefully lay down all the products on his nightstand, but deep down you know it doesn’t matter. At this point, you could drop everything without caring about any sort of noise and, still, there wouldn’t be a problem. With a soft smile on your face, you start with a cleansing water on a cotton pad, quietly apologizing for how cold it is.

Jungkook, of course, isn’t really awake to care.

To keep it simple, you decide not to add too many products, following with a serum and a moisturizer. Despite only having a moment before his skin soaked up the creamy lotion, you take your time running your fingers through every slope and curve, making sure not a single spot isn’t taken care of. Your hands are delicate, like a cloud, but confident as they glide on Jungkook’s skin. Meanwhile, his face is serene, completely unbothered by the movement.

To finish things off, you gently apply a specific treatment to a darkened spot left after a tiny breakout. Something he whined about a few days ago and now is barely noticeable. 

“Done,” you whisper, working whatever is left of the products on your own hands before collecting the bottles to get up. “Gosh, I think I spoil you too much.”

Read more ›› masterlist

[yandere-sins]

Could you please write the prompts Stripped socks and Photos with Asmo from Obey Me? I think it fits him really well!

I think so as well :D Thank you for requesting ♥

Striped socks - “I can’t resist not having some part of you near me! You wore this today right?”

»»———————— ♡ ————————««  

Whistling playfully, Asmo strolled down the long corridor towards his destination, passing by his brothers’ rooms with his ears taking in the different sounds coming from them. There was Levi’s room, video game sounds ringing from it. Satan’s room was as quiet as a cat. The jingling of coins from Mammon’s and laughter coming from Beel and Belphie’s room. Asmodeus stopped, holding his breath for a moment and leaning towards the wooden door of the twins tensely.

Between his brothers talking about food and the game you three were playing, your voice was the one Asmo recognized quickly. Even if you sat quietly most of the time, it was almost as if he could hear your heartbeat as clear as day. Feel your joy as if it was his own. When you did speak up, he felt his own heart swell from the beauty of your chuckles, every word you uttered so meaningful despite being small-talk at best. That’s how connected you two were, two hearts yearning for each other. A picturesque romance!

Fingertips brushing over the door, a longing sigh fell off his lips, wishing he could be inside with you, cuddle with you and kiss you, but it was Belphie’s night. He wouldn’t have given you up for anyone, especially not Asmodeus. It wasn’t Asmo’s virtue, but he felt the jealousy seething in his stomach, knowing that Belphie got to have fun with you while Asmodeus couldn’t. And as if that wasn’t enough, Beel was having his second night with you this week; he and Belphie having much more of you than any other brother since they worked together more often than separated.

Pretty unfair, how Asmodeus found. He’d have to go to bed alone tonight and not really in the mood to call a mere succubus over. Not when he could have had you in his bed instead. Not if it could have been you all along if not for the stupid rule they all agreed to in secret, that every brother could occupy your time for one night a week without the other’s interfering.

Sighing, Asmodeus moved on. It was too painful to stand and listen, always having to realize he wasn’t welcome at your side that night. The agreement was blatantly unfair. After all, even if he got a chance to keep you by his side for a night, it was so late into the week that you were already utterly exhausted after the four previous nights. Asmo did what he could to help you relax, but that ate up all the time he wanted to use to do other things with you. Innocent and less innocent things.

And then, he’d have another week of gloomily laying in bed - alone or not - wondering what you were up to. Sometimes he wondered how the others could keep themselves busy in their time off, but it wasn’t like Asmodeus had nothing to do. It all just wasn’t fun if it wasn’t with you.

Approaching his room, Asmodeus couldn’t help but sigh again, a sound unsuited for the self-assigned pretty boy. Hand laying down on the handle as his shoulders slumped in disappointment, Asmo wanted nothing more than to turn on his heel and take you back with him. It was nerve-wreaking. You probably didn’t even know about all these conflicting feelings he had inside of him. The Avatar of Lust wasn’t meant to love someone so dearly as he loved you. It should have only been him, himself, and he for the rest of his long, long life. But now, no matter how good he could put up a farce, it was all about you.

Your face, your hair, your body, your eyes, your laugh, your touch, your taste, your soul, your heartbeat, your magic, your...

All about you. You and him.

And how good you were together.

Turning around, Asmo slowly let go of the handle, looking back over his shoulder. Your room across his was empty that night, he knew as much. Even if he slept there, you wouldn’t scold him, and perhaps he had to admit he was desperate enough to do it. Or he could just slip in and grab something to take back with him. Something that would help him through this painful week of waiting for you to return to his side. Nobody needed to know he was even there.

You were supposed to lock your door, with so many entities around that were practically drooling at the thought of you. And Mammon. Especially Mammon. Lucifer told you often enough to just lock up. Still, you swore up and down that it was an inconvenience, and it bothered you to single yourself out from the brothers. It was your fault Asmo could easily slip in, but it was his luck that you were stubborn.

No worries, even that was cute about you!

Looking left and right, Asmodeus didn’t take the chance of anyone finding him linger around, quickly making his entrance. Even with the light off, your room was softly illuminated by the fairy lights he put up back when it became apparent that there would be a guest staying long term. He thought you’d appreciate the cute and tiny lights since it was awfully dark down in the Devildom.

With his back against the door, he took a deep breath. It was amazing how your presence tainted the room. It had been bare and boring before, but now the air tasted like you, and that was all he could want. Humming happily, Asmo let his fingers glide over the amenities in passing, feeling their texture under his touch. Knowing that you were using them almost made him greedy. He could surprise himself with how much he wanted to just take them all and keep them to himself in his own room. But that would be a little too obvious, wouldn’t it?

So what should he take instead?

Your bath was now filled with products you received from him. It would be easiest to take back one of them. Even if he was found out, he could just say he needed it for his morning routine. Or your soap, so he could smell like you from head to toe! But no, that wasn’t enough to satisfy Asmodeus.

He needed more.

Asmo wanted to cuddle with you, hold you, kiss you, tease you, see your reactions... how could he do that without you? What else was there to even get close to the joy of holding you? Letting himself fall onto your bed, all it needed was a deep breath to make a smile creep onto his face. It was paradise. Here you were everywhere. Your pillow, your blanket, the stuffed animals you accumulated as presence from the brothers - they all were the closest to you he could get. Or were they?

Jolting up, Asmodeus looked around. The darkness wasn’t pleasant, but he prided himself on knowing his way around your room. After all, his nightly adventures sitting by the side of your bed, pushing the hair out of your sweet face tenderly had to be good for more than just having a moment with you unbothered by anyone. See, Asmodeus would have messed up his sleep schedule if it was for you. That’s just how special you were.

It pained him to crawl out of your bed, but he did it nonetheless, ever on the search for the thing. Even Asmo didn’t know what token would be enough to satisfy him. If it was for him, he could have gobbled everything up that belonged to you or just rest between your things instead to get a piece of mind. But there was this desire he held, to have something just for himself. A part of you, so to say.

Gliding to his knees in front of your basket laundry, Asmo’s hands began to shake both in excitement and hesitation. There was this one aspect that differentiated you from Asmodeus so much. Everything about him had to be perfect all the time. Asmo couldn’t stand the thought of doing something and not looking pretty or at least cute while at it. You were normal in comparison. At times you’d get muddy or wear your outfits twice, never wondering what others would think. He just wanted to coddle you with how cute your innocence was, but it also aggravated him that anything could sully you.

And yet, your clothes were his best options, weren’t they? He lifted the lid and sighed in relief that you hadn’t done the laundry that day. The first thing he pulled out was a lucky reach already, as he felt the soft material of your shirt. It wouldn’t fit him as well as it did you, but surely, Asmo would look cute in your clothes, right?

Bringing it up to his nose, there it was again, your scent, the ultimate confirmation that you were real and alive. Asmo couldn’t restrain himself, rubbing the fabric against his cheek and brushing it with his lips, honoring it for doing a service to the both of you. This was it, the chosen object he’d keep all to himself. He’d put it on his pillow and lay it beside him so he’d never be alone again.

He was wholly immersed in the thought of you wearing this shirt, how cute it fit you and how you were handling it. The only thing that finally tore him out of it was when a cone of light fell over him, the door opening. “Be right back!” you shouted before you stepped in. Just when you were about to close the door, your eyes fell on him, kneeling on your floor in front of the laundry basket, holding your white shirt, and you halted, mouth opening in surprise.

“Asmo... deus?” you mumbled, and oh god, it had been so long since he heard his name from your lips. Since dinner at least.

“Ah,” he hummed, smile back on his face just because he was able to see your face once more that day. “Welcome back.”

Was it too abstruse to welcome you back to your own room that he was in without permission?? Asmo wondered as you two stared at each other, your lovely gaze slowly but surely falling to the shirt in his hands that he gripped a bit tighter as a reaction. “What are you doing... with this?”

Even confused you were so cute!

“You see,” he chuckled, supporting himself into a stand. “I can’t resist not having some part of you near me! You wore this today, right?”

Holding up the shirt, he walked over, fitting it onto your chest while you stared at him, unbelieving. “I think so...?” was all you could mumble as you looked up at him with more questions than answers. “Sweet, I’ll borrow this then!” he giggled, knowing fully well he’d never give it back. Maybe he’d need more someday, but you couldn’t have this shirt back ever. Leaning forward, he gave you a long kiss to the cheek, taking your silence as an okay to take what he wanted before passing you by.

Sure, if Asmo could, he’d rather have you, but this was the next best thing. He couldn’t break the promise with his brothers to take you with him for the night, but he could pretend it was you in his arm instead of the piece of fabric. You didn’t really seem mad, much more dumbfounded as he left you there in the doorway. However, Asmodeus didn’t fear you getting upset about what he took from you that night.

After all, if you did get upset, you’d have to come to him if you wanted it back, and he’d only exchange it for something of equal value, just like any demon would.

A real piece of you just for himself.

[fandom-imagines-stories]

A Bourbon Street Wedding

Enzo St. John x Mikaelson! Reader

Part 4 of 4: ( Part One, Part Two, Part Three)

Words: 3859

Summary: The big day has finally arrived.  You couldn’t have asked for anything more perfect. 

Notes: I can’t believe it’s been around 3ish years since I started this series. To anyone out there who is still reading, thank you! This is the final part in my Enzo and the Originals Series and I really hope you guys enjoyed. Thank you so much for reading! Warning: So much fluff ahead. Lovey dovey fluff, family fluff, just all kinds of fluff. 

-

The New Orleans’ sound did not wake you up. It was the feeling of someone looming over you as you slept that crept deep into your slumbering mind and forced you awake. Your eyes fluttered open and you screamed. Caroline stood over you, hands on her hips and rage in her eyes. 

“How are you still sleeping?” She shrieked yanking the covers off of you. You groaned and turned your head to look at the alarm clock. “The wedding is only seven hours away! We need to get ready!” Enzo rolled over, covering his ears with his pillow. Caroline grabbed your hand and Enzo’s arm and dragged you out of the bed.  

“Caroline, I appreciate how much you’ve done to help, but-” Enzo started groggily. Caroline shoved a bag of hair product at him and pushed him out into the hall. 

“Damon got here earlier, he’s waiting downstairs for you.” 

“But-”

“No, buts, we are already way behind schedule.” Caroline huffed. Her planner-face calmed and she smiled at both of you, stepping to the side so you could look at each other. “Alright, you two. This is it.” The last time you would see each other before the ceremony. You just stared at Enzo, speechless. Neither of you could even begin to know what to say, so you just laughed nervously. Caroline slammed the door. “Okay, let’s do this.” 

Bonnie, Rebekah, and Hayley all burst into the room. Hayley pushed play on the stereo and music blasted, mostly cheesy romance songs that Caroline had insisted upon. Bonnie popped a bottle of champagne and Rebekah toyed with your hair while Hayley and Caroline talked about their daughters. 

“Hope is staying with her grandmother this morning. Mary is bringing her later.” Hayley explained. 

“Ric’s staying with the girls. He sends his best.” Caroline announced. You nodded and smiled. Alaric was your friend, despite his complicated relationship with the rest of your family. Then again, most of your friends had a complicated relationship with your family. Caroline scowled. “Stefan has elected himself as the selfless martyr who will not be attending so he doesn’t ‘cause a scene’.” She rolled her eyes. You took her hand swinging it back and forth playfully. 

“You deserve better.” You noted. Bonnie raised a glass.

“Amen to that.” She handed out the drinks and the morning passed by with many giggles and indecisive arguments over what color lipstick you should wear. When all was settled, you were cast into a frenzy of makeup and hair curlers until Caroline declared your look to be ‘just right’. 

Meanwhile, downstairs, a reluctant vampire stood outside the gate, tempted to turn around and run as fast as he could in the opposite direction. Of course, the first person to greet him didn’t exactly put his mind at ease. 

“Damon Salvatore…” Klaus chuckled darkly. “What a pleasure to see you again.” 

“Niklaus.” Elijah called from inside. “Do stop frightening the best man.” The oldest living Mikaelson came out and stood by his brother. “Hello Damon.” Damon gave the pair a reluctant wave. The magic witchy Mikaelson- one that Damon didn’t even know existed until now- invited him in and the three lead him to the room where Enzo was getting ready. Damon death-glared him as Freya went upstairs and the brothers stood on either side of him, like minions of death. 

“Please tell me you’ve got bourbon.” He grumbled, side-glancing the two originals, waiting for one to pounce. Enzo watched in irritation as Damon threw his stupid, trademarked leather jacket onto the chair. Kol glared from his spot on the sofa. 

“I thought we’d already gone over the guest list.” He sneered. “I would’ve made sure that this-”

“Behave yourself Kol.” Elijah warned. 

“It’s nice to know none of you have changed.” Damon snarked, snatching up the bottle of bourbon on the side-table. He poured himself a drink and downed it quickly. “And neither has your taste in liquor.” Enzo growled.

“You’re here for a reason, Damon.” He groaned. “You already missed the bachelor party, now please, do something helpful.” 

“You missed one hell of a night, Damon.” Kol smirked, licking his lips. 

“Yeah, I heard about those call girls going missing.” Damon noted. “I’m surprised at you, Elijah. I never took you for one of us miscreants.” Elijah kept up his stoic expression, his tone betraying his slight annoyance.

“I refrained from last night's activities.” 

“He was absolutely no fun.” Klaus whined. “Lovesick fool. Hayley’s practically got him on a leash.” Kol and Klaus both snickered. Elijah shook his head, but couldn’t stop himself from smiling. He really was a lovesick fool, not that he was ashamed to admit it. And with Davina and Cami both gone, he didn’t reprimand his brothers for their partying. 

“I believe that I was not the only so-called ‘buzzkill’ at the party.” He pointed out, his eyes on the groom. Damon’s jaw dropped. 

“Enzo?” He fake-gasped. “Has our blood-thirsty party man finally turned into a hopeless romantic?” Enzo rolled his eyes and shrugged. 

“Just because I’m not a brute, doesn’t mean I’m a hopeless romantic.” He smirked. “Undeniably in love, yes. But not hopeless.” 

“I think I’m going to be sick.” Kol pretended to gag. “You remember you’re speaking of my twin? I know a couple secrets about her you would not find so romantic.” 

“Kol.” Elijah scolded. “We wouldn’t want Lorenzo getting cold feet now would we?”

“Yes because then I would have to remove them.” Klaus threatened, casting a dark look to the groom. Enzo gulped and began to tie his tie over his pristine white shirt. Elijah had picked it out, which meant that it was the best money could buy. 

You both looked perfect. After all, this was the biggest moment in all your centuries of living. The girls gathered around you and let out a collective sigh of awe. This was it. 

The guests were beginning to arrive and you felt your heart pounding, wishing that you could be with him to calm your nerves. But of course, it’s bad luck for the groom to see the bride before the ceremony and with your shared history of weddings, you needed all the luck you could get.  And so you waited, tapping your foot at an alarming speed and trying to take deep breaths. 

“Everything alright dear sister?” Kol wondered with a smirk, leaning against your doorway. Caroline, Rebekah, Bonnie and Hayley were all getting ready to be the perfect bridesmaids and Freya was preparing to officiate the wedding. She had been so excited when you asked her and you couldn’t think of anyone else you wanted to say the words ‘I now pronounce you husband and wife’. 

“What could go wrong?” You looked at your twin and smiled nervously. Kol’s face suddenly darkened. 

“Well I can think of something.” He growled. You turned to see who he was looking at and gasped. Kol stepped towards Marcel.  “I don’t recall sending your invitation.” 

“I just came to tell Y/N congratulations.” He held up his hands a sign of peace. “I don’t want to cause any problems. Not today.” Kol continued to loom ferociously over Marcel until you stepped in between them. 

“Kol, why don’t you go make sure that Klaus hasn’t killed any of the guests? I don’t want a single speck of blood on him when he and Elijah walk me down the aisle.” You were able to shoo him away before he could object, turning back to Marcel with fiery eyes. “Of all the days you decide to make amends…”

“I’m not asking for your forgiveness for not telling you I was alive all those years.” He started. “I’m asking you not to hate me. All I want is for things to go back to the way they were before everything happened. We were pretty close friends, you and me.” 

Thick as thieves, more like it. While Marcel was like a son to your older brother and a lover to Rebekah, he was always one of your dearest friends. You were devastated when you believed your father had killed him. When you discovered he was really alive, you were both relieved and furious. All those years and never once had he reached out to find you. Seeing him stand before you now erased all of your anger. 

“You say it like I’ve forgotten.” You cried, pulling him into a hug. “Thank you for coming, Marcel. You don’t know how much it means to me.” You pushed away with a small smile on your face and tears in your eyes. 

“Hey,” He comforted, placing a hand on your cheek. “We can’t have you crying before the wedding.” 

“Would you stay?” You pleaded. “Please, Marcel. It would make this day even more perfect.” He gave you a look. 

“Can you promise none of your siblings are going to try to kill me?”

“You know I can’t.” You both laughed and he agreed to stay, sneaking down into the courtyard where the ceremony was taking place. With him gone, you were alone again and the unstoppable nerves returned. “Come on, Y/N. You have faced centuries of trials and vicious enemies. You’re just-”

“Pledging to spend the rest of eternity with someone with probably as much emotional baggage as yourself?” Klaus finished, stepping into the room. Elijah had managed to get him into a suit and he completed it with his famous mischievous grin. 

“Shouldn’t you be downstairs with Elijah?” You put your hands on your hips. 

“Oh come now, don’t be so cross. It is, after all, the happiest day of your life.” He replied smugly. “I simply wanted a word with you before the festivities begin.” He led you to sit on one of the sofas, taking your hand in his own. 

“What’s this about, Nik?”

“I know that I have been… difficult these past centuries.” He smirked and you couldn’t help but laugh in agreement. “The truth is, Y/N, that I am completely afraid of losing your love to someone else. But I have seen the way you are with Enzo and I simply cannot bring myself to take it away from you. I may be a selfish bastard, but even I do not wish to see you unhappy. I wish you the most joyous life, Y/N.” 

“Klaus,” You placed a kiss on your brother’s shoulder. “My love for you will never falter or diminish, no matter how much of a thorn in my side you are.” He gave you the loving smile that you often wished to see more of. Klaus was troubled and all you hoped for was that one day he would find the kind of happiness you had found with Enzo. 

“You look stunning.” Elijah noted from the doorway. He held out his arm. “Shall we?” Klaus and you stood and the three of you walked down to where you would be entering. Caroline and Bonnie would be first, then Rebekah with Damon, and Kol insisted on announcing you like some kind of queen. You were pretty sure he just wanted to get a laugh out of the crowd before you walked down the aisle. Of course, it was just nice to have your twin want to take part. 

You could feel yourself trembling as Caroline and Bonnie started walking. Rebekah and Damon were bickering even as they began down the aisle. You took shaky breaths and felt Elijah chuckle. 

“Everything is going to be fine.” He assured you. 

“You know, it’s never too late for me to kill him.” Klaus whispered and you elbowed his side. Kol gave you one final smirk before heading out to the front of the space. 

“Ladies and gentlemen!” He greeted. “You are all here to celebrate the union between Enzo St. John and my beautiful sister, Y/N Mikaelson. Us being twins, I could share a great deal of stories about Y/N…” He looked back towards you and you glared at him. “But that will have to wait until the reception. Now, without further adieu,” He had an exceptionally smug smile on his face now and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at his final words. “Here comes the bride.” 

Enzo finally was allowed to turn around as the music began to play. His heart leapt and his breath hitched. You were the most gorgeous thing he had ever seen. In fact, gorgeous wasn’t even the right word for it. Nothing could describe how you looked as you walked towards him.  As if his eyes alone had calmed you, you felt your nerves wash away and the brightest smile spread across your face as you took the first step down the aisle. The faces of your closest friends turned towards you and with each step, you felt emotions bubbling up inside. As you reached the end, Klaus gave you a wink before taking his place beside Damon, removing a stake for his pocket. 

“Klaus!” You hissed. He gave you a mischievous grin.

“Couldn’t resist.” He said, Damon taking the stake from him.  Elijah lifted your veil and you felt a tear roll down your cheek. He smiled and wiped it away, placing a kiss on your forehead. 

Freya beamed at you as she greeted the crowd and thanked them for coming to witness your union. Enzo couldn’t take his eyes off of you. The ceremony itself was simple and you and Enzo stared into each other’s eyes the entire time.

“May I have the rings?” Your oldest sister asked. Damon handed Enzo your ring and Rebekah handed you his. “The couple has prepared their own vows.” Freya nodded for you to begin and you took a deep breath, taking both of his hands in yours.

“The first day we met, you were trying to kill my best friend. However, just a few years previous so had I.” You laughed through the tears now freely falling down your face. “I thought that the only promise I would make was to my family. Our code of always being there for each other, and although it has been tested- multiple times-” You shot Klaus a look. “I want to extend that to you. I promise to love you and to protect you and cherish you. Always and forever.” You slid the ring onto his finger and laughed to yourself, wiping away the tears. You looked into his eyes to see that he was crying too.

“I didn’t know what it was like to be loved.” He began and for a moment you thought he’d blubber more than you had. He always was a romantic. But he composed himself as best he could. “Until I met you. You saw past all of the bloodshed in my past. All of my pain and anger. You had had your fair share of hurt over the years and you decided to take a broken soul and mend it. You saved me.” He took a deep breath, feeling a tear roll down his cheek. “And I plan to spend the rest of our lives trying to repay you for the love that you’ve shown me. Always and forever.” He put the ring on your finger and you both laughed at how emotional you both were. Freya smiled. 

“What are you waiting for? Kiss her.” The crowd erupted in applause as Enzo dramatically pulled you into his arms and lowered you into a dip before kissing you for the first time as your husband. 

-

The reception was held at Rousseau’s, which was heavily decorated with roses and lights to the point that it no longer looked like a bar, but something from a fairy tale. Again, the handy work of Caroline. Klaus watched Caroline from his seat at the head table as everyone waited for you and Enzo to arrive. 

“Now that Lorenzo is officially family, I recommend you don’t give him the same treatment that you gave us for the past few centuries.” Elijah straightened his cufflinks with a smile, giving Klaus a side glance. 

“Of course not, Elijah. The daggers don't work on him.” Klaus grinned mischievously. “Although, there’s always the crypt in the basement.” 

“Don’t even think about it.” Rebecca chimed in. Elijah looked across the table to Hayley, feeling a deep desire to one day have this with her. To have the happiness that his sister was now experiencing. Hayley saw him and smiled, her eyes lighting up his soul, or whatever was left of it. Perhaps one day...

The doors opened and the newlyweds entered. You still couldn’t quite believe it. In all your years of living, you couldn’t think of a moment when you were half as happy as you were now. Enzo’s fingers were laced with yours as you walked towards the main table, seeing the smiles on your friends and family’s faces. The guests cheered as you took your seats. Dinner was quickly served and it wasn’t long before Rebecca stood, tapping her glass with her spoon to get the room’s attention. 

“Ah yes, it is time for the dreaded speeches.” She announced with a smile. “Being the maid of honor, I am obligated to speak for my dear older sister. And since I have over a thousand years of stories, it was difficult to pick just one. I succeeded however, in finding a memory that I believe best describes my sister.

“She and Elijah were the only two to escape Klaus without being daggered and shoved into a box.” She gave Klaus a brief glare before continuing. “In the late 1800’s, when I awoke, many things had changed. People I loved turned their back on me.” Her eyes came across Marcel, but didn’t linger for long. “Elijah reintroduced me back into society, but it was Y/N who helped me nurse a broken heart. She made me believe in my own strength again. Y/N showed me the love that only an older sister could. I am beyond delighted that her heart has finally found its equal.” She looked at Enzo happily and feigned a scowl. “But know that should anything happen to her, you will not only have my brothers to worry about.” 

“Duly noted.” Enzo nodded, his hand having never left yours. All eyes were now on the best man. Damon took a long drink from his glass and stood reluctantly. 

“There isn’t a lot I can say about Enzo before him and Y/N met. When Enzo and I first knew each other we were prisoners. We were trapped together, tortured together, and experimented on.” You felt Enzo’s grip on your hand tighten at the memory. “When I got my chance to escape, I took it. I betrayed him. Decades later, he swore revenge on me and tried to kill my girlfriend.” Reading the confusion in the crowd, he smirked. “Don’t worry, this bromance has a happy ending.” 

“Of sorts.” Enzo whispered to you and you both laughed quietly. 

“My point is that Enzo hated my guts until Y/N got him to forgive me. I believe her words were ‘There are better ways to spend an eternity than seeking revenge. Especially against an old friend.’ Anyway, here I am and here they are, so I guess we all know the end of that story.” Damon glanced at you and despite his usual smirk, you could see the sincerity in his eyes. “Elena was always rooting for the two of you to end up together, so that meant I have to too.” The crowd chuckled at his last comment, but you stood up from your chair and pulled the snarky vampire into a hug. 

“Thank you, Damon.” You whispered. “I miss her too.” You felt him return the embrace and smile sadly against your cheek. 

“She would have loved this, you know. All the gushy romance and twinkling lights.” He said, fixing a hair that had fallen out of place and tucking it behind your ear. You nodded.

“You’ll have this with her someday, Damon. And when you do, I will be the one giving the speech.” 

“Over my dead body, Mikaelson.” He snarked. “But I guess is Mikaelson St. John now. Jeez, that’s a mouthful.”

“Sit down, Salvatore.” You shook your head in amusement. As you went back to your seat beside your husband, you noticed a member of the wedding party’s chair was empty. A rush of panic shot through you. “Elijah, where’s Klaus?” 

All of your siblings turned to the vacant seat and their eyes widened. Everyone started to split up to go find him before he could cause any trouble. 

“I’ll go get Caroline, she went to the bathroom.” Bonnie said, taking off in the direction of the restrooms. You and Enzo decided to check the kitchen but were not at all prepared for what you would find. Sure enough, there was Klaus. And Caroline. On the counter. You quickly shut the door, trying to contain your laughter. You took Enzo’s hand and headed back to the table, grinning like an idiot.

“Well it’s about time.”

-

As the night slowly died down, Enzo clinked his glass to acquire the crowd’s attention. Everyone focused on him as he stood, shooting you a bright smile. 

“May I have everyone’s attention? First and foremost I would like to thank each of you for coming out to celebrate this wondrous occasion. Some of you are from this beautiful city, and some came all the way from a small town called Mystic Falls.” He turned to Damon and smirked before returning his loving gaze to you. “But to end the night, I wanted to say a few words to my new wife, Y/N.”  You felt the blush rise to your cheeks and the warmth rush over you. 

“A few months ago, I discovered who my family was. As it turns out, after a century of searching and hoping, they turned out to be a bunch of thieves and betrayers. No resemblance to me, I’m sure.” The room laughed. “I’ll admit that I was crushed. But now, the Mikaelsons have accepted me into their family, some more willing than others.” Klaus shrugged with a smirk, still flushed from his little rondevu earlier. 

“I almost had you.” He teased. Enzo continued, holding his hand out for you, lifting you to stand beside him.

“None of this would have happened if it wasn’t for the brilliant, caring, incredibly sexy-” he winked and you giggled, “most wonderful girl that came into my life when I thought I had no reason left to live.” You laid a hand on his shoulder, feeling tears start to well up in your eyes as they started to in his. “She made me see that maybe there was a slight shred of hope in this eternity we were both stuck with. Y/N became my world. A world I would do anything to protect.” His hand slipped into yours. “Now we may have our disagreements, and I’m sure we have a long road of bickering and evading certain doom.” He held up his glass in one last toast for the night. “So here’s to one hell of a forever.”

-

General Tag: @rae-gar-targaryen; @takemepedropascal; @childhood-imagination;  @mylovegoesto; @yellowbadgergirl; @itmejado; @suckmyapplejacks

[ethanesimp]

WHEN YOU’RE GONE // D.D.

Pairing: Mob Boss! Damiano David x Mob GN! Reader (it was originally written with a fem! reader so please let me know if you spot any slip ups on my part)

Summary: Soulmates are already a difficult concept to grasp and things don’t seem to get any easier when you like a person who already has a soulmate.

Word Count: 9.8k (it’s so long lakjd)

Warnings: Swearing, death and mentions of it, injuries, angst -lots of it-, it’s a mob fic so violence, smoking, Damiano being kind of an asshole? Me probably using swear words in italian wrong... Just read with caution pls

Masterlist // Taglist link in bio

A/N: If you’ve seen this before, it’s probably because this has been written and posted on my other blog @pparkersbitch as a Tom Holland fanfiction at the beginning of the year (which has now been deleted). It’s the same person and I’m not stealing anyone’s work :) I just like it and wanted to bring it back. I did add/modify some tiny details though. The idea is probably dumb, but I’m sharing anyways.

Taglist: @gretavanfleetlove​ @superchrystaldrug​ @reputationdamiano​​

“This isn’t how I wanted to start my morning,” Your best friend mumbled in a tired voice. You could barely hear him from where you were standing over the sounds the old -and surely broken- coffee machine kept making and the music playing from his phone.

“Well, sucks to be us, huh?” You chuckled and poured coffee on both of your cups as you did a small dance to try and shake the tiredness off your body. You handed Damiano his cup after preparing his coffee the way he liked it, a teaspoon of sugar with a splash of milk, and walked with him to the large office down the hall, “I don’t get why Ethan and Thomas can’t do this instead of us.”

The room was always cold and you seemed to forget about it most of the time since it still slipped your mind to wear a sweater or hoodie over your thin pajama shirt. You grabbed one of the blankets from the small black couch on the corner of the room and wrapped it around your body as best as you could with your free hand. 

You sat down on the chair next to him to have a better look at all the papers and files he had spread out on the desk, “What exactly are we looking for?” You asked with furrowed eyebrows. All those documents were enough to keep you occupied for the whole day if you didn’t work fast enough.

“We are looking for any leads to the drug cartel or its leader. Really anything that can help us find them,” Damiano explained and took a sip of his coffee as he opened the first file. 

You had been trying to track a drug cartel ever since they infiltrated your warehouse and stole some of your products. Damiano’s father had been at both of your necks ever since it happened as if it had been your fault instead of the incompetent guards that were supposed to be guarding the entrance at all times, “I’m sure these are people we’ve made deals with in the past, they wouldn’t have been able to break in otherwise. We’ve always been far too careful for this to be a mere coincidence.”

He removed the gold ring from his ring finger and left it on the jewelry bowl you had placed on his desk. You had known Damiano David and his family for years. For as long as you had known him, the band on his ring finger had been gold, and you hated it. 

That stupid little gold band was a silent reminder that he had met his soulmate and there was nothing to be done about it. For months you had silently hoped and prayed for Damiano to be your soulmate, but any illusion or wish you had of it happening, had vanished the moment you saw the gold ring on his finger for the first time. You later discovered he avoided wearing it on his hand because it put his soulmate at risk of being found, but he still kept it close to him at all times by using it as a necklace.

You avoided wearing yours for an entirely different reason. The black ring and all the stares and words of pity that came with it were saddening and something you didn’t need. While gold was a reminder of love and good luck, black was a reminder that your soulmate was no longer alive and you were doomed to spend the rest of your life alone. You were sure the band had been black for most of your life, or at least that’s how you remembered it.

It was safe to say you were jealous of Damiano’s soulmate, Marlee. Not only was she one of the most beautiful women you had ever met, but she got to have perhaps the most amazing man by her side until her dying day, something you could never have in any way that wasn’t platonic.

You successfully ignored it most days, which wasn’t so hard to do since you had better things to think about most of the time, but nights were always the hardest. In your loud and chaotic life, there was a speck in time where everything quieted and calmed down. During those few hours was when you’d break down and grieve for the person whose name you didn’t even get to know. You’d cry for being stupid enough to fall for someone who wasn’t only your best friend, but who also had a girlfriend.

“Damiano, Y/N?” Marlee’s sweet voice interrupted your train of thoughts. You had been reading the files consciously enough to notice anything unusual, but you had paid no mind to anything else until she walked into the room. You smiled politely at her and waved. 

She walked up to Damiano and he immediately closed all files with any sort of photo that might be too graphic for her to look at. Marlee cupped his face and pressed her lips to his for a few moments that felt like an eternity to you, watching everything from the side as a feeling of jealousy invaded your senses. You did nothing but look at the painting on the wall until they stopped locking lips, which took a bit longer than you would’ve liked.

“Did you two find anything?” Marlee asked once she pulled away from Damiano. He gave her a look you knew as ‘I cannot tell you anything about the mob to keep you safe’. She had been involved with the mob’s administration for most of her life, only after she met Damiano and her father united his mob with Damiano’s did she stop working. 

You had been brought in as a replacement of sorts once Marlee stopped doing any mob business per Damiano’s request. His parents had saved yours from a legal accident, which left you in debt with his family, so you didn’t have much say on whether you’d join the mob or not. 

Something you were grateful for was that Damiano always kept your hands clean. No matter what business it was, he made sure to keep you out of any sort of situation in which you’d have to hurt or get hurt by another member of the mob. Most people that worked for Damiano didn’t have the pleasure of knowing him as the lenient and caring individual he was around you.

You excused yourself after spending a few more minutes flipping through the files in search of something but ultimately found nothing. It was supposed to be your free day, or at least that was what Damiano had promised. Apart from that impromptu search for information at 5 am, he promised he’d have Ethan, Vic, or Thomas help with anything he needed. 

That was why you took the liberty to lock yourself inside your room and put your phone on silent. You desperately wanted to catch up on all the hours of sleep you had lost in between those early morning duty calls and coffee runs. No matter how much you enjoyed spending time with Damiano, you still missed your normal sleep schedule.

-

When you woke up a few hours later, the house was completely silent. The usual chatter coming from the kitchen wasn’t there, neither was the noise of Vic repeatedly firing bullets at the targets in the garden to practice her aim like she did every morning or the soft sound of Thomas softly strumming his guitar as he tried to piece an unplanned melody together with the assistance of Ethan’s drumming.

It wasn’t a Sunday, which meant they weren’t away visiting their families. They were all supposed to be home. That last thought made you nervous and you couldn’t help but wonder if something had happened while you were asleep. Being in the mob, you knew a lot of unexpected things happened all the time and you had to be prepared for them all.

You walked to the door, determined to investigate what was wrong. Your hand was already firmly grasping the doorknob and you were about to undo the lock when someone knocked harshly on the door, startling you. 

Without hesitation, you jumped back and reached for the gun stuffed in one of the drawers nearby, “Y/N? You awake?” 

You let go of the drawer’s handle and your tense body relaxed at the sound of Victoria’s raspy voice, “Fuck, Vic, you scared me,” You spoke as you opened the door to be met with her panicked blue eyes. Your eyebrows furrowed at her worried expression, but before you could ask, she grabbed you by the arm softly and dragged you out of the room.

Once you were in the hallway, you finally heard everything with a lot more clarity. The faint sound of glass clinking before falling to the floor, Thomas’s exasperated shouts, and Damiano’s complaints. You looked at Victoria, expecting an explanation.

“I don’t know what happened,” She began, “One second he was alright, then at like 9 AM Ethan and I heard them fighting. She’s gone and Damiano’s locked in his room, won’t let anyone in. Thomas is trying to get him to talk while Ethan looks for the keys.”

You walked past Victoria and ran up the stairs. Damiano’s room was right above yours. Upon walking up to the third floor of the house, you saw Thomas repeatedly knocking on Damiano’s door. Once he heard footsteps and spotted you, it was like relief washed all over him at the sight of you.

“Do you mind trying?” He asked, “He’s been asking for you,” Thomas added with a sigh as he brushed his messy hair out of his forehead. You nodded and got closer to the door once he got out of the way.

With hesitation, you knocked on the door and patiently waited for a response, which arrived only after you knocked once again, “Vaffanculo, Thomas! Which part of your tiny fucking brain cannot understand that I want to be left alone?”

You flinched at his words and took a long breath as you gathered the confidence to speak up, “I-It’s Y/N, Dami,” You said, loud enough for him to hear you from where he was. You were expecting rejection; if Damiano didn’t want to talk to people who were as close to him as siblings, why would he talk to you? Sure, you were one of his best friends, but he’d known Thomas for longer than he—

Your thoughts were interrupted when Damiano opened the door and quickly dragged you in before slamming it shut once more. For the first few minutes, you stood in silence while Damiano faced the door. You couldn’t see his face or his eyes, so you had no idea what could be going through his mind, so you focused on your surroundings instead. 

The room was a mess, but not more than it usually was. What alarmed you was the shattered glass on the floor as well as the drops of blood that stained the white floor. You looked back at your best friend and noticed that it was dripping from his hand. 

“Damiano,” You called, “Amore, your hand,” He turned to look at you and that’s when you finally saw his red and swollen eyes as well his tear-stained cheeks. His gaze softened once his eyes fell on yours. He choked back a sob and turned away from you once again.

If his hand hadn’t been bleeding, you wouldn’t have hesitated on wrapping your arms around his neck and trying to comfort him. Instead, you ran to his bathroom to grab the first-aid kit. After years of being in the business, treating Damiano’s cuts and injuries wasn’t anything new to you, but you were oblivious as to why he was in such a state in the first place.

Being the person he was, Damiano had learned to conceal his emotions incredibly well to protect himself, even around the people he trusted the most. You had only seen him that shaken once when something had gone terribly wrong. The fact that Marlee was gone too only gave you a worse feeling. The fact that her clothes were all gone from the closet didn’t ease your worried mind either.

Damiano was sitting on the bed patiently waiting for you to return. Once you did, he avoided your gaze and said nothing as you examined his hand. The cuts were all superficial and would surely cure on their own in a few days, which was why you only focused on removing the tiny shards of glass that had stuck to his skin with a pair of tweezers.

Once that was done and you had cleaned the cuts, you wrapped a bandage around his hand once and secured it with a small piece of tape. You sat in silence for a while, you didn’t comment on the sobs that would escape his lips every once in a while or the tears that had started falling down his cheeks.

Instead, you waited until he was ready to say something, “I don’t even know how to tell you this,” Damiano mumbled. His eyes stayed glued to the floor. He seemed… embarrassed to look you in the eye.

“I was finally going to do it this morning, N/N,” He said as a sigh escaped past his lips and he took a small velvet box out of his pocket. He didn’t have to say what was inside the box because you knew exactly what it was. Damiano had been planning on proposing for months, but there was always something that managed to get in the way of completing his goal.

“She went to the bathroom and had left her phone on my bedside table. I was going to get the ring and Y/N… I-I swear to God I didn’t want to look but the messages kept coming, one after the other, the fucking phone wouldn’t stop making noise. Cazzo, she was the one feeding information to the drug cartel and Lord knows to who else,” He said those words in one breath and you had barely been able to catch them all. Damiano threw the box at the wall angrily and from the noise, you didn’t doubt there’d be an indent there.

“I asked her about it and you have no idea how much I wished she’d deny it, but she didn’t even try,” Damiano cried. Unexpectedly, Damiano turned his body around to face yours and wrapped his arms around your waist while he buried his face on your neck.

It took you by surprise, but you said nothing. Instead, you focused on rubbing circles on his back and whispering soothing words into his ear. Part of you knew there was something else going on, even if you didn’t ask. You hadn’t seen Damiano cry in a long time and even then you saw nothing more than just a few tears rolling down his cheeks. What happened with Marlee had truly driven him right to the edge and he couldn’t keep in everything he had been trying so hard to hide.

-

In the four months that followed, you didn’t see Marlee once. She never had the guts to return after Damiano found out about everything she had been doing behind his back. At first, he had been utterly destroyed by her absence, it pained you to see him shut everything and everyone out with the lame excuse that he had work to do. Every single time he did so, you’d quietly sit down and help him despite his complaints. 

He got better though. Once enough time passed, he healed, but all that love he had once felt for her was now nothing more than pure hatred every single time her name was mentioned. You knew better than anyone that it wasn’t the healthiest thing to do, but it didn’t matter how many times you told him so because it never truly changed much.

As for the mob, things seemed to calm down once Damiano and Ethan were able to track down the leader of the drug cartel and get the stolen products back. Everything was too good and too quiet. While your four friends enjoyed all that peace, you couldn’t help but worry about something being wrong. It was a silly thing anyway, there was nothing that gave you even the slightest confirmation that your worry wasn’t just fueled by paranoia, not a single thing.

You should’ve been grateful instead. Your sleep schedule had gotten acceptably regular and there was no more working from 5 am to 10 pm every single day. You also had time to finally sit down and read the books that had been sitting on your untouched shelf ever since the start of the year, just like you were doing at that very moment while the boys were playing poker in the basement and Vic was on a date.

Damiano walked into your room eventually, still smelling like the cigarette he had just been smoking minutes back. He couldn’t help but scrunch up his nose as the smell of lemon incense burning hit his nostrils.

You looked up and giggled at his disgusted expression, “You cannot be disgusted when you were the one who walked into my room smelling like cigar and beer,” Damiano rolled his eyes and plopped down on the bed next to you.

“Incense is bad for you,” You shot Damiano a killer look and closed your book. He gave you a funny look back and then put his attention on your book, “What are you reading anyway?”

You hummed and showed him the cover. It had a beautiful yet simple design, which accurately represented the story hidden in between those pages, “Okay so, it’s the story of these people that all get invited to this island. They’re all summoned there for different reasons but it turns out they all have this common enemy. It’s terrifying because they get killed off one by one when a children’s lullaby plays. I truly cannot explain it enough to do justice to how intense this book is.”

“Oh and before that I got to read the most wonderful romance book! It was apparently the first book written where soulmates weren’t a thing and it was just a piece of art. Beautifully written, made me cry for hours too.”

Damiano smiled and you could almost see all the gears turning inside his brain, “Wouldn’t it be amazing?”

“What would?”

He shrugged and propped himself up on his elbows to get a better look at you, “A world without soulmates, where you’re not bound to someone since birth.”

You sighed and turned to look at him, “It’s our own fault… being bound, I mean. No angel from the heavens came down to tell us we have to love our soulmate as anything more than a close friend, you know? It can be purely platonic, we’re just stupid.”

“Were you ever able to fall in love with your soulmate or was it just platonic?” Damiano asked. You never talked much about soulmates with him. He still didn’t know your soulmate had been dead for as long as you could remember.

“I never got to know them,” You smiled sadly and showed him the black ring you had gotten used to wearing around your neck, carefully tucked under your shirt to stay unseen. His mouth fell open as he grabbed the ring and inspected it closely. It was the first time he had seen a black ring.

“I didn’t know… I’m sorry,” Damiano let the ring go. You shrugged and waved your hand to silently show it wasn’t too important, “I thought you guys were separated or something.”

You shook your head, “Mom says the ring turned black when I was six, but I don’t really remember so I just like to pretend I never had one in the first place… I don’t know.”

There was a question on the tip of your tongue, but you didn’t want to ask it, as intrigued as you were to know the answer. You hadn’t talked about her ever since she left and he’d most likely avoid the question because he truly wanted to keep her name out of his mouth. Nonetheless, he noticed your hesitance because you suddenly got too silent. 

“You can ask, you know? I know I just touched on a sensitive topic, so…” You nodded. Both of you were lying on your backs, looking up at the ceiling which had some of those glow-in-the-dark stars and planets you had glued when you first moved in to feel less lonely.

You hummed softly as you tried to find the right words. You didn’t want to be too straightforward with your question in fear of upsetting your best friend even though he had asked you the same question minutes earlier, “Did-did you ever… you know, fall in love with her?” 

Damiano thought about it in silence, you had probably caught him off-guard with your question, “No, not really. Not in the way I was expecting at least. You know truth be told, I was a bit disappointed. Don’t get me wrong, she had this angelic look to her, she was a stunning girl. I just- there was nothing we had in common other than being soulmates. For years I had seen my parents act like they shared one mind and just thought the same things. I always imagined it’d be like that for me too.

“My expectations couldn’t have been further from what it truly was like. Honestly, I’m not even sure which part of our relationship was true anymore. Now that I look back on it, I’ve realized most of the things she did or said were just to get information out of me.” 

It was weird to hear him say all that. As a person who always got to look at the way Marlee and Damiano interacted with one another, you would’ve never expected Damiano to feel that way, “And,” He continued, “I was expecting it to be someone else.”

His last confession made you turn around to look at him. It was the first time he had admitted that, probably because of the beer he had been drinking while playing with his friends.

“I know it sounds terrible but… I met her and this other person on the same day, almost at the same time. I didn’t notice my ring had turned gold until much later. I had only been with them both and people I already knew. I thought it had been the other person until she told me her ring had changed too. Meanwhile, the other one said nothing. Now I realize it would’ve been impossible for them to be my soulmate.”

It might’ve been because he was telling you all those things and you felt safe to admit what you felt, or maybe because you were tired of bottling it up for so long. Either way, you spoke up, not caring if you’d regret it later, “It’s not as terrible as you might think.”

“Look, I’m not bound to anyone. The black ring gives me the freedom of loving someone else. I never met my soulmate so there’s no guilt in being with someone else. It’s supposed to be a perfect thing, Dami, only it isn’t. I know a lot of people who’re also blacksouled,” You hated using the word. It was usually how people would refer to those who didn’t have a soulmate anymore, “And I fell in love.”

“T-that’s great!” Damiano replied, “Why didn’t you tell me? I mean, not like you’re obliged to tell me anything just because we’re friends but I-”

You interrupted his rant, “I fell in love with someone whose soulmate’s still alive.”

“So what? You said it yourself. Are they together?” He asked. You told him they weren’t. If only he knew you were talking about him… He’d probably run away and never speak to you again, “Then fuck it. Fuck the rules and everything else society has to say.”

“It’s not that simple, Dami. I truly wish it was, but it isn’t,” You wanted nothing more than for the conversation to be over. If it went any further, you knew you’d spill every single thing. It had gotten far too hard to conceal your feelings when you were close to him. Now that you were talking about them, it’d be even harder.

You got up and walked to your bookshelf, where you started accommodating your books as an excuse to avoid being so close to him, to avoid his curious gaze. Even if they weren’t together anymore, you knew Damiano would reject you, that was far too obvious. Even if he felt the same, after what happened, it’d take Damiano a lot of effort to ever trust someone in such an intimate way, even if that someone was you, his best friend.

“Why? It is that simple. If they’re not together, what’s stopping you? You’ll never know what could happen if you don’t try,” You turned around to look at him, fists clenched by your sides, “Listen Y/N, I know you’re scared of relationships and everything they involve but you cannot let that sto—” 

“Fine then, I’m in love with you! I can barely breathe when I’m around you because my love for you is so suffocatingly strong, and I can’t think straight either! You and your stupidly handsome face drive me insane. How’s that?” You admitted, interrupting his small speech midway, too irritated to process what you had just said. Once you did, your hand flew to your mouth and you shook your head. You wanted to say it wasn’t true, no, it was nothing more than a lie to get him to stop poking his nose into your love life. Except it wasn’t and, if you were being honest, no part of you wanted to hide it anymore.

Just like you expected, he said nothing. Damiano stayed silent for a few seconds before getting up and walking out without another word. He slammed the door on the way out so hard you wouldn’t be surprised if the door separated from its hinges.

For the weeks that followed, Damiano avoided you as much as possible. You were still his right-hand person and needed to be present at every meeting and would have to discuss any type of business with him. It used to be your favorite part of the day when you got to sit in the meeting room with Damiano and discuss plans to make the mob prosper, now it was nothing but uncomfortable because you’d do all the talking while he looked at you as if his biggest desire was to carve your heart out with his pocket knife. 

While you understood that he was still mad at Marlee and wanted nothing to do with her, you didn’t understand why he was treating you that way when you had nothing to do with it and weren’t to blame for the stupid shit his ex had tried to pull. You thought he knew that you loved him far too much to ever do anything to jeopardize his safety. Yet again, he might’ve assumed the same thing about Marlee.

You walked out of yet another unsuccessful meeting with Damiano and slammed the door as hard as you could to let him know how much his childish behavior annoyed you. Ethan was standing close to the door and you could see the shadow of a smile that was threatening to break out and illuminate his face, “Don’t you dare,” He raised his hands in defense and bit his lip to try and hide the smile that would just annoy you further.

“You two are starting to act like two teenagers and it’s fucking pathetic,” Thomas chimed in from where he was sitting on one of the couches.

“Yeah? Tell that to your friend who is giving me the silent treatment like a fucking toddler! I just want- I need to have a serious conversation with him,” You admitted and sighed as you fell on the couch right next to Thomas, head in your hands to try and cover up the tears that were threatening to spill down your cheeks.

Both men stayed silent as they watched you, Even though you could feel their stares, you decided to focus on not crying instead. The truth was, the longer Damiano spent ignoring you, the more you regretted telling him what you had been bottling up for years, it had been a mistake there was no coming back from. Unless he decided to stop acting like a kindergartener, things would never go back to the way they were.

It was frustrating to think that your friendship would go to shit just because of your confession. Being rejected by him wouldn’t have been a big deal if he had actually stayed in your room and spoken like the adult he was.

“For the record, I think he’s acting like an idiot because he’s scared,” Sighed Victoria, who had just walked into the room with an ice pack placed over her hand, “I know it’s been a while but, give him time. He’ll come around or I’ll make him, I promise.”

You gave Victoria a tight-lipped smile and nodded. You hoped more than anything that it wouldn’t have to come to getting locked up in the same room as Damiano to get him to speak to you.

Except… as more days passed, you feared it would most likely have to be that way because he was still saying nothing to you. He had only spoken once and it had been to call you out for being doing everything wrong while looking through some important documents when you were, in fact, doing everything just like he had initially requested. Now, not only had he been giving you the cold shoulder, but he had started acting like a complete jerk around you too.

You tried to distract yourself by focusing on all the work you had pending, but it wasn’t working. Every single day, no matter what you were doing, your mind still wandered back to the brown-eyed man and his stupid face, his stupid hair, and stupid smile.

Even as you stood in the middle of the kitchen, your thoughts made it difficult to bake the cookies you had been craving all week. You had started to work on the second batch after the first one came out disgustingly salty because somewhere along the process you had mistaken the salt for the sugar.  

You hated how bothered you were by the whole situation. It had affected you way more than you would’ve liked to admit. Truth be told, you had never felt sad about his rejection because it was something you had expected ever since that attraction for him first settled on your brain. It was the way he was treating you that got on your nerves. 

That was mainly the reason why you were so thankful for being alone in the house at that very moment. Apart from a few security guards here and there, you were completely alone. You allowed yourself to relax for a split second and connected your phone to the speaker system in the kitchen. You started playing one of your favorite playlists before getting back to making cookies the right way this time.

You softly swayed your body along to the music as you dumped all the ingredients on the large bowl in front of you. As you poured the flour in the bowl and mixed it with your hands, you noticed Damiano standing by the door. For some unknown reason, he scared you so bad you accidentally tipped the bowl and made a mess of the counter. 

A frustrated sigh escaped past your lips and you threw your head back, feeling defeated and irritated, “I’m sorry,” Damiano spoke up hesitantly, “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

You shook your head and wiped your hands on the apron you had tied around your waist, “It’s fine,” You turned around so your back was to him and started wiping the counter with a damp towel. 

“You deserve so much better…” You heard him speak up over the music. His words caught you by surprise. You turned around to look at him but said nothing. You could tell he was nervous by the way his hands trembled by his sides and the way his jaw was firmly clenched.

After a few minutes of hesitation, Damiano started walking to where you were. He placed his hands on the counter by your sides, leaving you trapped in between the counter and his body. You looked into his dark eyes to maybe try and guess what was going through his mind. 

You breathed in so deeply your chest hit his. You gulped at that and tried to control your trembling hands without looking away.

“What you said the other day, did you mean it?” Damiano asked, without hesitation this time around. Your eyes widened.

“I-I… What?”

“Just answer me Y/N, please,” Damiano pleaded. He looked so desperate to know the answer, which only made your blood boil. After weeks of silence, of glares and being a jerk, he dared to just show up and demand answers?

You shook your head and pointed your finger at his chest, “How dare you?” You took a step towards him, which made Damiano take a step back, “You have no right to show up like this and ask me to give you answers after how much of an asshole you’ve been.”

He seemed taken aback by your truthful words, but you didn’t care. If he wanted to know how much truth had been behind your words that night, he’d have to hear it all, “You know I’m your best friend and you also know I’d keep up with anything you do because that’s how much I care about you, but can you stop it? I know I was stupid for telling you because of what you just went through and I’m sorry, but please don’t keep giving me the cold shoulder. I just want to fix this.”

After a few minutes of silence, you shrugged and, like it was the simplest thing in the world, spoke up, “And yeah, I meant every word.”

Your expression softened as you waited for any sort of reaction from Damiano. You expected something similar to what had happened the day you first told him. No part of you expected him to cup your face with his warm, calloused palms to bring your face closer to him once again. 

Neither did you expect to feel his soft lips pressed against yours, or the feeling of his soft hair as you brushed it back with your fingers and your eyes slowly closing as you basked on the joy and pleasure his soft touches caused.

Damiano was gentle as he held your face in between his hands, almost as if you were made of glass and he was afraid of breaking you into pieces if he didn’t hold you delicately enough. That kiss felt so intimate, like nothing you had ever felt before. Everything from the way he held you to his slow movements and touches was so much better than you could’ve ever imagined.

When he pulled away, he left you completely breathless, wordless. There was nothing you could possibly say after the way he had kissed you, so you waited for him to find the right words instead.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N,” Damiano mumbled. He still hadn’t let go of your face, “You truly deserve better. You are so beautiful, so perfect. I’m so sorry for being such an idiot and hurting you, ignoring you. I just- I know I cannot love you as you deserve. Believe me, I want nothing more than to have you close to me all the time, to kiss your lips until you grow sick of me, but I can’t,” His voice was starting to crack as he said those words to you and you knew it was because of how he saw your face fall.

“No, no, shut up and listen to me,” You pleaded and placed your hands on top of his. You gave them a soft squeeze and let your forehead rest against his, “I know it’s hard for you to trust after what happened with her and I know it’s not going to be easy, but believe me, I’m willing to try if you are, Damiano.”

“You were that other person,” He confessed and got closer to kiss you once more, with as much passion as the last time. You were too concentrated on the smell of his musky cologne and the faint taste of vanilla chapstick he had surely stolen from your room to respond to his comment.

His hands fell from your face and comfortably rested on your hips as his lips attacked yours. Damiano pushed you against the counter and kept savoring the moment as if it were the first and last time he’d kiss you like that. You hoped for your sake it wouldn’t be the last.

Damiano pulled away reluctantly and unexpectedly lifted you up so you’d sit on the counter. He stood in between your legs and intertwined his fingers with yours.

“Remember when I told you about the person I met the day I met Marlee?” You nodded, “That was you... Ever since I met you I’ve felt this inexplicable attraction towards you and it’s been driving me insane. I couldn’t believe it when you told me you loved me because I’ve done nothing to deserve it.”

“You’ve done so much to deserve it, so so much,” You mumbled and brought him close to you to kiss him for the third time. It was such an addicting feeling and both your heart and mind were screaming to feel it again.

That time around, Damiano didn’t hesitate to lift you up once more, he carried you to his room and locked the door.

— 

It had been a few weeks since your conversation in the kitchen. Things returned back to normal after that night. Other than your relationship with Damiano, things were the same again. You had to go back to working at ungodly hours of the morning thanks to some suspicious activity Ethan had noticed. Apparently, one of the oldest members of Damiano’s mob had tried to establish a deal with an unknown subject but had been caught before he could accomplish it. 

This put you both on edge because there was someone out there desperate to break into the mob and finish it for good. At first, you thought it wasn’t more serious than whatever had happened with Marlee, but Damiano’s father proved you wrong the moment he brought you, their most loyal employee, in for questioning. 

It had been nothing too serious, at least not in comparison to what you had heard others say. In your case, it had been done mostly as a standardized protocol, to stop others from thinking there was some sort of preference or special treatment towards you just because you worked so close to Damiano. You knew almost everything Damiano did, so you were possibly the greatest source of information outside the David family and their small circle of friends.

“Amore?” Damiano asked softly as his hand caressed the exposed skin of your waist. You had been cuddling in bed for almost two hours with the excuse that you needed a break after all the hard work you’d done, “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

You turned around to be face to face with him and pressed a kiss to his freckled nose, “Not much. I was just remembering I need to get my ring resized again. I tried putting it on a few days ago and it didn’t fit anymore.

Damiano frowned at your words, “Your soulmate ring?”

“Mhm,” You responded simply and let your head rest on his chest. You enjoyed the feeling of warmth his body irradiated, it was soothing and the soft sound of his rhythmic heartbeat never failed to make you feel calmer.

“Soulmate rings don’t need to be resized, ever. Not that I know of, at least,” Now it was your turn to frown because, as far as you remembered, you had always gone to get your ring resized by a family friend who didn’t live too far away. No one had ever told you it wasn’t necessary.

You pulled away from his embrace and reached for the bedside table where you had been keeping the ring for the past few days. Once you turned back around, Damiano looked confused and almost scared, “Just, out of curiosity, tesoro. Have you ever taken off the ring and left it like far away for longer than a few hours?”

A giggle escaped past your lips at his silly question, “It’s just a piece of jewelry, Dami. Of course, I have, several times.”

You laughed nervously once you saw his horrified expression. Damiano was starting to scare you, but you knew better than to say something because you’d end up looking like a fool if he started laughing and told you it was all a joke. Except, it didn’t seem like one.

“Please get dressed and meet me in room five, okay? I might be going insane but I just need to make sure I’m not,” Before you could ask any questions, Damiano had already grabbed a pair of pants and a t-shirt and disappeared into the bathroom to get dressed.

You tried not to think much about his weird questions and got dressed quickly instead. You grabbed your cup of tea, which had already gone cold, and walked to meeting room five.

You opened the door and were surprised to see all your friends already sitting around the small table you’d use for informal meetings. Thomas and Victoria looked tired and Ethan’s long hair was tangled and messy. That gave you the impression that Damiano had most likely woken them all up for your impromptu meeting. 

They all looked just as confused as you felt. There were a lot of questions you wanted to ask, but Ethan beat you to it, “Okay, now that we’re all here can you fucking explain why you had to wake me up? Please.”

“Have any of you three—,” Started Damiano, referring to Thomas, Victoria and Ethan, “—tried to take off your ring for a while but have started feeling sick and weird?”

Thomas and Victoria looked at each other, confused, but nodded. Ethan did after a few seconds of thinking about it, “Yeah, there was actually this one time I went on a date and I didn’t want the girl to see the ring had turned gold, so I left it at home. Thirty minutes later I was puking everywhere. I didn’t really understand why but someone at the Soulmate Centre explained rings are an extension of the soul and they need to be close to us at all times and there are actually records of people dying after losing their rings. Why?”

Damiano looked at you and raised his eyebrows to silently ask if he could share the information with the other three guys. Once you nodded, Damiano spoke up, “Y/N doesn’t need to have it close to them and they need to get it resized every once in a while.”

Ethan shrugged his shoulders, “That’s as far as my knowledge goes. I don’t know. I think the best thing you can do is go to the SC.”

You sighed but nodded. Ethan’s explanation had started to freak you out. What if there was something terribly wrong with you? What if you were born without a ring and your parents lied to you all your life?

— 

After having a short conversation with Damiano in private, you decided to follow Ethan’s advice and go to the Soulmate Centre that was only a few minutes away from your house. He wanted to go with you or send someone to watch over you but had accepted your petition to go alone after you told him it was a private matter and you'd tell him all about it once you got back.

So there you were, on the reception of the SC, with your sweaty hands intertwined together as you tried to ignore all the dirty looks people were giving you. Everyone around knew exactly who you were and most weren't one bit pleased to see you there. While some didn't hesitate to look at you like they wanted to kill you, others were afraid to do so.

Those few minutes that passed until the lady at the desk called your name were some of the most uncomfortable of your life. Some part of you hated having the mobster title because that usually gave people the wrong idea and drove them to hate you even if you could proudly say you had done nothing illegal or violent in your whole life. You had to admit the mob wasn’t an ideal job to have morally wise, but you had found a family inside those four walls others doomed to be cursed.

You walked up to the lady. She had what you could interpret as a nervous smile as she stood behind the desk, patiently waiting for you to tell her what had brought you there in the first place. You were hesitant to communicate your issue because you were mortified of finding out a truth that should probably stay hidden.

You reached back and unclasped the chain the ring was looped through. You left it on the counter and smiled softly as you shyly spoke, “So uh, good morning, ma’am. I was hoping you could take a look at my ring, I’m slightly concerned there was something wrong with it.”

The lady nodded and removed the ring from the chain. She inspected it closely for a few minutes before nodding her head towards one of the rooms that said ‘only employees allowed’. She started walking towards it with a quick step and you saw no other choice but to follow right behind her.

She opened the door and quickly closed it with a lock once she verified you were inside, “Listen, the only reason I’m not turning you over to the authorities is because you don’t strike me as someone stupid enough to walk into an SC with a soulmate ring like this.”

Your jaw dropped in surprise at how direct she was being. For a second, you noticed her face fall before she realized it was best to keep a face that communicated seriousness instead of begging for your forgiveness or whatever people did when they pissed Damiano off.

“I don’t know who gave this to you or in which illegal market you bought this but if a higher authority sees you with this, not even Damiano David could save you from the consequences of sporting a fake ring,” She said. You honestly didn’t know how to respond because panic had started to drown out any coherent thought that tried to form on your mind.

You didn’t even try to disguise your panicked expression that time around. Instead, you focused on regulating your breathing and trying to keep all your emotions at bay before you lost control and began to hyperventilate. The other woman noticed your distress almost immediately and led you to sit down on one of the couches.

After you took a few deep breaths, you looked back at her, eager to ask thousands of questions, “How can you know they are fake?”

She sat down next to you and put the ring on your palm, “Look at the inside,” She demanded while pointing her finger to a spot on the inside edge of the ring, “They usually have something engraved inside, a code that only repeats itself twice. Whenever one loses their soulmate, this code vanishes. Your code is still there. I also used a detector to confirm my suspicions and it detected nothing.”

“And with… with that code, can you tell me if my soulmate’s still alive? Or who they are?” The older lady looked at you with pity in her green eyes and shook her head.

“Unless this is the original code engraved on the real ring, there’s not much I can do for you other than telling you how your soulmate is. I need so much more information to ever give you a name,” You nodded in understanding. All you needed to know was if they were alive, that’s all you wanted.

She took your nod as a sign of approval and disappeared into another room. While you waited, you couldn’t help but secretly hope they were dead. You wanted all those weeks of bliss you had spent with Damiano to last a lifetime. He knew everything about you, from the number of scars scattered around your body to what book you had read the most times. No soulmate could learn that about you until years after meeting each other. Besides, it wouldn’t feel right. The Gods had already been too cruel for not making him your soulmate, but now that he wasn’t with Marlee and you knew he loved you just as much as you loved him… 

She walked out of the room and cleared her throat to catch your attention. You were thankful for her interruption because you were mere seconds away from bursting into tears of distress. She looked nervous to tell you what she had found out, but the way you looked at her made her spill the truth without any warning.

“Your soulmate is still somewhere out there, alive.”

— 

Damiano clutched his side with his hands as every type of curse word spilled from his mouth, “Thomas! Dammit Thomas, where the fuck are you?” He screamed and pushed the ache in his throat and side to the back of his mind as he limped towards the table where his loaded gun was placed, ready to be grabbed and shot. 

Things had been perfectly fine just ten minutes back. He had been drinking and playing pool with the boys in the basement. They were all laughing and messing around when Victoria heard the first gunshot. Thomas had been quick to dismiss it as one of the guards practicing his accuracy like they did every once in a while, so they went back to playing the game.

Then they heard it again and again and again. In that time it took the four men to walk up the stairs, people had already successfully broken into the house and they were shooting at anything that moved. The blood-red snake symbol all these people had on the masks that were covering their faces was one he had grown far too familiar with. These were the people Marlee had been conspiring with and they had managed to overthrow every single line of defense in between them and the front door.

Damiano had been in his room fetching a gun when a smoke bomb was thrown into the room. It had stopped him from seeing the person who shot him. Thankfully enough, their vision wasn’t much better either, because the bullet only grazed his side. It was still painful as hell and blood was pouring out of the wound, but it wasn’t going to be anything deadly. 

He finally got ahold of his gun after minutes of feeling around the table to try and spot it with the low amount of vision he still had. Once Damiano had it in his hands, he raised the scarf he was wearing to cover the lower part of his face to try and lower the quantity of smoke he inhaled.

He walked out of his room and into the hallway, still holding the gun firmly ready to shoot it at the first person he saw with that red symbol. Damiano opened the door to every room on the third floor. He had to shoot at one or two people before walking down to the floor below. The first room he opened was yours. His eyes went wide as he remembered you were still supposed to be at the SC. Damiano cursed under his breath. He needed to warn you not to come back but to go to your parents’ instead. Damiano opened the tracking app first, a precaution he had been insistent on taking just to make sure you both knew the other was safe. 

“Fucking hell,” Damiano mumbled as he saw that blue dot with your name above it was right on the same spot as his. You were back home.

Every thought of investigating each and every room to make sure there was no intruder flew out the window and instead he focused on trying to find you. Everything had turned chaotic on those few minutes he had been in your room, which was why it had gotten harder to get around without finding someone waiting on almost every corner for him to appear.

Damiano heard a piercing scream that made his blood go cold. You were in danger somewhere inside the large home and he desperately needed to get to you, to make sure you were safe from any danger. He knew his friends would be perfectly fine, they had their guns and several types of weaponry close-by, but he knew you didn’t. You always refused to take a gun or dagger with you whenever you went out and if they had caught you right when you had just gotten back… you’d most likely have nothing to defend yourself with.

There was no doubt in his mind that you were witty and incredibly smart, not to mention agile and great at coming up with plans on the spot, but he still needed to make sure you were alright. 

He got down on the first floor and his eyes met with a pair of blue ones he knew far too well. He let his eyes trail down to her carmine-tinted shirt. Marlee smiled at him and trailed her thumb along her jawline. That’s when he noticed her hands were also red and she had also left a trail of bloody footsteps from his office to where she was standing. His office.

Damiano didn’t hesitate to point the gun at her leg and pull the trigger. He then aimed for her other leg and shot it. She fell to the floor as an agonizing scream fell from her parted lips. Damiano was satisfied now that her stupid smile had been wiped right off her face.

He quickly ran to the office and opened the door. What he saw inside made time stop. It made all those sounds go silent. It made him feel like there was no floor beneath him to stand on. You were lying on the floor, a dagger piercing your chest.

You looked panicked, sad, like you wanted to do nothing but scream and cry, which you had started doing the moment you saw Damiano walked into the room. He didn’t know if your reaction was out of relief or if there was something else that concerned you, apart from the obvious.

“Damiano,” You spoke up weakly, The sound of your raspy voice was like a slap back into reality. He didn’t waste a second to fall to his knees right by your side. Damiano cupped your face with his trembling hands and brushed your cheek with his thumb.

“Shh. I’m here amore, I’m here,” He responded voice barely above a whisper, “I just need to find something to press against this wound I— something…” He stood up, ready to look for a rag, bandages, anything to stop the blood from rushing out of your body so quickly, but you stopped him.

You wrapped your hand around his arm and with all the strength you had brought him back down, “No hey, stop,” You mumbled, “Unless she happened to study every major artery, vein or has awfully perfect aim, I’ll be dead in minutes.”

He shook his head and wiped the tears that were starting to fall with the back of his hand. He was not giving up. Damiano was not going to let you die, “Wait, no, no. I can do this,” Damiano took his sweater and scarf off. With the help of his scarf, he applied pressure to the wound, careful not to move or dig the dagger further with his movements.

You shook your head and Damiano couldn’t help but cry harder at the desperation and panic in your eyes, “Please, Dami. Stop it, there’s no use. I-I just want you to hold me, please.”

He wiped his runny nose with the back of his hand and nodded repeatedly as he careful cradled you in his arms and moved your head to rest on his lap, “Everything’s going to be okay,” Damiano mumbled and left a long kiss on your forehead, then another one on your cheek and a last one on your lips.

You cupped his face with one of your hands and wiped the tears with your thumb. There wasn’t much left to say, not like you’d be able to talk even if you tried. Instead, you offered him one last sincere smile with all the energy you had left. 

He watched in horror as life slowly started to drain out of you as his ring simultaneously turned black. Damiano sat there for minutes after you were gone. He cried and let every frustration, confusion, and pain escape his body with a loud scream.

Damiano didn’t let go of your body until Victoria and Thomas had to forcefully pull him away and let someone else take care of you.

— 

Ethan didn’t walk into the room until he made sure every single intruder had been killed, except for Marlee, because Damiano had asked to keep her alive. When he did walk in, all he saw was Damiano with a folder in his hand and multiple pieces of paper scattered around the desk in his room. He looked pale, mortified by everything he was reading. The long-haired man didn’t understand what had gotten his friend in such a state of shock until he walked closer and looked at what seemed to be a contract.

You were Damiano’s soulmate. All your lives you had been tricked into believing you weren’t meant for each other. Your parents had made you believe you had no soulmate and Damiano had been fooled into thinking Marlee was his. You had gotten right to the bottom of it all and the secret would’ve gone to the grave with you if you hadn’t left the papers lying on his desk and if he had left his ring on the pocket of his jeans like he usually would. But now it was far too late to do anything about it.

[fanmoose12]

after death do us apart

Summary: Levi thinks his house is haunted.

Levi is in his kitchen, busy with a very important task of measuring leaves for the tea when he hears a loud, obnoxious thud, coming from his living room.

He softly curses, grabs his cane and rushes, as fast as he can with his body not as strong as it was before, there.

When he arrives, he sees that everything else is in order, except a picture frame that is now lying on a floor.

Levi's blood boils, an annoyance bordering on anger rushing through him. This picture - that one that now lies on the floor like some kind of useless shit - is his most priced possession. It is the only thing that keeps the memory of them alive, the one thing that reminds him during cold and dark nights that he might be alone right now, but there was a time where he wasn't.

It's a picture of him, Hange, Erwin and Mike all standing together with their arms around each other. He doesn't remember if that had ever happened, but that's what he had found in one of Moblit's notebook and after he made that discovery, he just couldn't leave it behind.

No picture of them exists - Mike and Erwin were gone even before they found out what a photo camera was, and in her last years, Hange was always too busy to take a single photo.

He regrets it now, not pushing her to take it, but Moblit's picture is vibrant enough. He doubts a photo could capture their essence quite like his sharp eyes and skilfful hands could.

Onyakopon tells him there are more pictures of Hange now. There are portraits made by talented artists that paint Hange as the last Commander of Survey Corps or during her last moments on Earth.

They're hanged in museums and various memorials but Levi doesn't wish to see any of them. He doesn't care about them, those pictures - they were drawn by talented artists, and Levi doesn't doubt that.

But they never knew Hange, not like he did. So how could they come up with something worthy of the light she bestowed on this world? How they could ever hope to put it on paper?

Levi crouches down, his bones and protesting, and picks up the picture frame.

Thankfully, it is still intact.

But just as his old, broken heart swells with relief, there is another thud. This time, the book falls down, nearly missing Levi's head.

He curses again, loud and vulgar, letting out the best of profanities the Underground taught him.

He whirls around, his eye searching for the offender. The room is empty, though. It's mostly silent too, the only sounds flowing around are those from outside his window. But then he hears it, a faint, feeble murmur that sounds almost like "sorry".

His heart clenches, his hand gripping the cane to keep himself grounded.

He knows that particular sorry. Heard many times many years ago - ehen he stumbled over the barely conscious, sleep deprived body, when his shirt got soaked in tea, soup or some kind of possibly dangerous chemicals, heard it repeating over and over as gentle, trembling hands inspected his injuries and wiped away the blood.

It was sometimes accompanied by cheerful, loud laughter, other times - with quiet, broken sobs.

He couldn't hear that sorry. He couldn't.

It was just a trick of imagination, nothing more, nothing less.

I am not old enough to go senile yet, he thinks as he puts the picture where it belongs to.

It was just a trick of imagination, he repeats and leaves the room.

He goes back to the kitchen and resumes his task. The skin on the back of his neck is prickling, like someone stares intently at it, but Levi chases that feeling away, convincing himself that he's simply being paranoid.

He pointedly ignores the quiet sound, the one that resembles a sigh of disappointment and the one he heard too many times too, during long nights at the lab and inside Commander's office, as well.

***

It's not the first weird (unexplained, she would say) thing that happened in his house. There are instances happening all over the place, each of them brings a different degree of strangeness

Windows and doors - close and open on their own volition, lights turn on and off, books, his clothes, kitchen ware - disappear for hours only to appear in the most random of places, bangs and knocks sound at all times of the day, merciless to his sleeping pattern.

Logically, he knows that it isn't normal. He also knows that he probably should talk about it with someone. But he was never good with that thing - talking. All the people he was somewhat comfortable sharing his troubles are now dead and gone.

He theoretically can discuss it with Gabi and Falco, but he doesn't want to, because, well, no matter how big they think they are, they're still children. Onyakopon is out of question too, because he might just get too worried and then send him into that building on the edge of the town - mental institution, he calls it.

And Levi might be old, but he's not senile. Yet.

Probably. He hopes so at least.

His mind is still his own, broken but not shattered. He knows right from wrong, sees the difference between reality and a dream.

He still functions properly, and yet those instances don't back away.

He'd ignore it, write it off as a product of imagination or strange coincidence. If only it happened once. Or twice. Three times even. Three weird happenings in a row is hard, but possible to ignore. But when it happens every damn day, for almost dozen times, it's not just hard to ignore. It's fucking annoying too.

He knows a name he can put to describe it all, of course. Born and raised in the depth of Underground, how can he not? Stories like this were well known and greatly appreciated down there. They were children of the dark, after all, friends with shadows. Everything dark and scary, anything feared above their little world was welcomed and encouraged.

Isabel used to warn him about enraged, vengeful spirits that hunt those who wronged them or those who disturbed their resting place. Kenny - when he was in a less shitty, kinder mood - used to tell him about souls that die without fulfilling their purpose and were destined to roam through the land of the living for all eternity, unable to sleep with their business unfinished.

Before putting him to bed or whenever she felt especially sentimental, his mother used to speak of those unlucky ones who died before their loved ones did.

"They cannot find peace even in death," she said. "And so they come back to our world and stay close to the ones they still cannot let go, watching them until they are able to reunite."

He never believed in those stories, though. Perhaps, he was born and raised in the Underground, but he got out of it, lived his best years with the sun shining on his face and wind blowing through his hair.

He thought ghosts doesn't exist.

But now that his best years are behind him, now that he has seen enough shit to know that anything is possible, now that some days he himself feels like a ghost, he starts thinking of them more and more.

Hange is gone, he reminds himself, she's gone and even though you miss her like crazy, it won't bring her back.

Hange is gone, and none of it is real.

But, god, does he really wishes that it was. *** It is the middle of the night, and Levi feels a presence behind him. It's not ominous like in that book about ghosts he recently found. It's quite soothing, actually. It makes him almost content.

It's not looming or hoovering over his form either. It's right next to him, as though this something - or someone - lays on a bed close to him.

It doesn't bother him anymore, nearly not as much as it did before. It brings him comfort, in some sort. It reminds him of-

No. It doesn't.

The presence behind him shifts and Levi feels the blanket slip from his legs.

No, that won't do.

He tugs the blanket back, but either he's getting too weak with age or that presence, ghost or whatever is so much stronger than him, but he can't get it back. They fight for it for a while, each struggling to get the upper hand. Levi yanks it back, applying all the force that's still left in him, but bears no result. He grits his teeth, sweat gathering on his temples as he pulls the blanket.

"Give it back, you little sh-"

He doesn't get to finish.

The loud, snapping sound of ripping cloth cuts him off.

"Fuck!" Levi yells, frustrated. It was his favorite blanket. "Is this so funny to you, you piece of shit? Why do you keep tormenting me?"

There is a bit of silence, and then lights in his room turn on. With wide eyes, Levi watches the paper levitate from a small pile on his desk. Pen appears next, and it hovers above the paper, the sounds of furious scribbling filling the dark room.

Before he can say anything else, shout more profanities or threaten the invisible fucker to get out (he may not be as strong as he was before, but he has a cane and he still knows how to use it effectively), the paper starts flying, catching him right in the face.

Levi takes it in his hands, squinting his good eye to see what's written there.

It IS funny, but i didn't wish to torment you. You know that, right?

Something resembling a sob escapes from his lips. Levi fists his hands into sheets below him, but eight fingers is apparently not enough to ground him and keep him from falling.

"Who are you?" he asks shakily, his voice breaking.

The pen starts moving again, flying over another paper. This one isn't thrown in his face. It's gently laid next to his thigh. Levi takes it, and his hands shake so much it gets hard to read. Words swim between his eyes, but Levi persists, laying the note on his lap and bending over to see better.

His whole world shakes when he finally deciphers the words.

Haven't you guessed already?

He closes his eyes and some sound escapes past his lips, he's not sure if that can be called a sob or a chuckle, or a combination of both, but his whole body is trembling as he tries to fight strength to whisper,

"Hange?"

From somewhere close to him, on his left side where she always used to be, he hears a delighted, happy laughter.

He looks around the room, his eye shifting, desperate to find her, but he sees nothing.

Fear grips at his heart.

So just a hallucination then? Simple wishful thinking?

"Where are you?" he murmurs, giving it all another chance. "Hange-"

"I'm here," a warm sensation travels up his forearm. It doesn't exactly feel like an ordinary touch would, but it's there, it seems real and it fills his chest with hope. "Right here, a little to your left," she continues. "Just look at me, Levi."

He does, immediately he does. But there is no one next to him. The gentle sensation doesn't fade, gets more persistent if anything, but Levi still can't see her.

"You need to look a little bit harder," Hange murmurs. "If you can hear me, I'm sure you can see me."

Levi stares, his eye focused on the empty place next to him. He strains his vision, moves his gaze up and down, huffs in frustration and then finally, finally, he sees something.

It's vague, indistinct, barely visible in the dark, but he makes out the outline of the body. He can see the mop of brown hair, and they're messy as always, can see strong arms and wide shoulders, that long, prominent nose, that rosy, soft lips that are stretched out in a hopeful smile, those brown, sparkly he missed so much.

"Hange," he breathes out, his voice barely above whisper.

He wants to touch her, god, he wants to touch her so much, but when he puts his hand above hers, it goes right through her.

"The situation is not exactly perfect," Hange laughs. "I don't think you can touch me, and I can't exactly touch you as well."

"I don't care," he shakes his head and moves his fingers, until his and Hange's are close. He doesn't feel much, but something warm is still there and it still makes his breath stumble.

Hange is here, she's not gone, not completely, she's here, with him. It is more than enough.

*** They fall into a sort of routine after that. It's easy with Hange, as it always was.

She disappears for short periods of time, refusing to tell Levi where she goes.

"They asked me not to tell you," she says enigmatically, and doesn't ever elaborate, no matter how many Levi asks.

At first, he still worries he's going crazy, but then Falco, Gabi and Onyakopon show up. They all sit down around the small coffee table in Levi's living room, chatting amongst themselves and sharing the last news and gossips.

"You look healthier," Falco remarks, as Levi brings the tea from the kitchen.

As soon as he puts the cups down, the chaos begins.

The door shuts with a loud bang, the windows rattle and chandelier above them starts to dangerously tremble.

Levi also notes that Hange is careful not to make any mess, but she still acts so damn loud. And dramatic. He hides a sigh as he continues to sip on his tea and watch Onyakopon, Gabi and Falco lose their shit in front of him.

Gabi ducks behind an armchair, Falco close on her heels, curling around her. Onyakopon keeps frantically looking around, his breath quick and shallow. Levi can almost hear the sound of his panicked heartbeat.

"Stop it, four-eyes," he murmurs, too softly to everyone else to hear (not that they could pay attention to him amidst all that clutter anyway).

Everything stills immediately. Silence washes over his apartment, interrupted only by Onyakopon's gasps.

Hange snickers beside him, but Levi is the only who can hear her.

"This was fun," she giggles, running a hand over his shoulder.

Levi can't disagree with her on that one.

"What was that?" Onyakopon exclaims, clutching his heart. "Was it-"

"A ghost?" Gabi cries out, looking both horrified and excited.

Levi glances at Hange, silently telling her 'she looks just like you'. She waves him off and turns back to Gabi.

"Is is the first time it happens?" Falco asks.

"No," Levi answers, shrugging. A week ago, he'd be as disturbed as his friends are, but now he moved past disturbance to acceptance to delight. "It's been happening for weeks now."

"You aren't safe here," Falco, bless his young soul, looks genuinely worried, down to the deep crease on his forehead. "We should look for another apartment."

"Don't bother. I'm quite comfortable here."

Of course, he's comfortable. Hange is here with him, after all.

"But!" Gabi tries to protest, but Levi silences her with a raised palm.

"I'm not injured or unwell," he gestures on himself, as if to illustrate his point. "And, besides, it gives house some character, don't you think?"

"A very scary character," Onyakopon notes.

"Well," Levi almost smiles, hearing Hange's laughter behind his back. "The house is not very different from its master then."

His guests leave soon after, but not before Gabi and Falco make him swear to call them if anything 'more dangerous and scarier' happens.

As soon as they're out, Levi sits down in his favorite armchair. Hange flies over to him.

"So," she looks up at him, and the bright sparkle in her eyes, even though it is still a bit indistinct, sets his heart racing. "Have I convinced you that you're not going crazy?"

He wants to ask how, opens his mouth even, but then promptly shuts it closed. Of course, it is Hange. She knows his thoughts better than he does.

And if he had any doubts about her realness, they've disappeared right in that moment.

*** Hange is almost always next to him, hovering over his shoulder and constantly chatting into his ear. It almost feels like the good old days.

Although now he can't kick her leg whenever she starts teasing or rambling too much. His trademark glare has to be good enough, though.

He brings Hange books and introduces her to all kinds of new technology. She is beaming like a child at every new thing he shows her, and Levi's heart is so full of love for that weirdo, he's afraid it's going to burst.

Hange accompanies him on his strolls too, and his poker face has never put to trial more than during those moments, when Hange starts joking or fooling around, making him almost lose all of his composure.

He can't laugh or even berate her in public, and she knows it, goddamn. And uses it for her advantage, the asshole.

Levi gets his revenge when they're back at his house, refusing to give her new books until she swears to behave.

She swears every time, hand on her chest and all that. And she breaks that promise the very same day. Levi can't stay mad at her, though. He never could.

*** "You know, I thought you were a vengeful spirit at first," he shares with her one evening.

He sits in front of the fire, his legs outstretched to the source of warmth. Hange is laying on the floor, book hovering above her. She closes and turns to Levi.

"I could be," she says. "But, unfortunately, the people I'd like to haunt are long dead as well. Floch is gone, Eren is too..." Hange scoffs, shaking her head. "And I can't very well haunt every bloodthirsty soldier back in Paradise. Too much work for the old, frail me."

Levi lifts an eyebrow. "You don't look that old to me. Especially, when compering with me..."

"Oh, Levi," Hange rises and gets closer to him. She sits down on his lap, and Levi feels warmth spread through the skin of his cheek as Hange puts her hand on it. There is a smile on her lips, the one that Levi knows too well. The one that means that Hange is going to say something very, very stupid. She opens her mouth and proves him right once again. "I was always more attractive than you," Hange murmurs. "Nothing changed since my death."

He rolls his eye and laments that he can't flick her nose.

Hange is still smiling, and when she leans in, he can almost feel a ghost of a kiss on his lips. *** "Don't you ever feel regret?" Levi asks one day.

He is sitting in his wheelchair, looking at the bright setting sun from the small garden near his house.

Hange is on top of him, her long legs dangling from the wheelchair. As he speaks up, she turns to him, and the happy expression turns into something more thoughtful.

"Regret?" she repeats, frowning. "What can I ever regret?"

"This?" Levi gestures around. "I know, you're still here, but don't..." he frowns, struggling to find the right words. "Don't you wish for something more? For us to have a proper chance?"

Hange looks up at the sky, and for a moment she's quiet. Levi thinks if he should take his words back, change the subject completely but it's something that's been bugging him for a long time. He's happy, so happy, that Hange can still be with him. But there are moments when he wishes for... more. To be able to hold her hand and share meals with her, to walk with her through the streets without worrying that someone might think he's some drunkard or lunatic who talks to himself.

He knows it's selfish to even think about it, he already received so much more than he deserved, but isn't selfishness an inherent part of a human?

Sometimes, he just can't help but long for something more.

"I'm sure you know what a method of trial and error means," Hange begins, looking back at him. Her words confuse him, but before he can open his mouth, Hange shushes him and continues. "Remember those days at my lab? Nothing ever worked out, every experiment turned into an ever bigger disaster than the previous one, and I was so frustrated I wanted to crawl up the wall. But there was a certain beauty in it all - I tried, I failed, I tried again. Over and over, until something good came out. And, boy," she chuckles. "When something worked, it worked perfectly. And, maybe, all of this, all of us," she swiftly runs her fingertips through his brow and Levi shivers at the warm, gentle feeling that spreads down to his soul. "As a failed attempt. We tried, it didn't work," she pauses, and her eyes are bright, much brighter than the sun behind her. "We can try again."

Her words stir something inside, a long forgotten feeling of hope. But he still can't accept it so easily, the cynic in him fights to make himself known.

"But you're already dead," he protests.

"And that means this attempt has failed. Not as spectacularly as that time when my experiment blew up and burned Moblit's eyebrows, but... not a perfect success either. We can try again, though. We can say goodbye, walk from each other and then meet again, in some other place and time."

"And what if we fail again?"

"Then we try again. And again, and again, until we can get it right. And when we finally do, oh boy!" she exclaims, flailing her arms into the air. "Wouldn't that be spectacular?"

She laughs, so happy and free, and Levi wishes to gather her in his arms and never let go. All he can do right now, though, is circle his hands around her waist, imagining that he's holding her.

Just like always, he trusts Hange.

They will meet again, and, maybe, it will all fall apart in a disaster worse than this one. But they can try again. They can keep trying, until... forever.

And, perhaps, that's the true beauty of life.

[slkw]

Anything (Edmund Pevensie x Reader)

summary : While staying at Cair Paravel, y/n receives a letter from her father. The letter states that she is to be wed to a Prince that she has never met. Is Edmund able to prevent this from happening? 

I collapsed. Just utterly collapsed; my knees gave way under my body and my hands slammed to the floor in an attempt to catch myself. Sobs racked through body. My brain could not even process my thoughts as I was just so overwhelmed with the sadness that consumed my mind.

I ran up through the gardens, avoiding eye contact with anyone. I jumped up two stairs at a time – I was desperate to reach my room quickly – and hiked up my dress to increase my speed and decrease my chances of falling in my hurry. Pushing through doors and into rooms and corridors, I whipped my head around anytime I saw someone, not wanting them to see my tear-streaked face.

Just as I swiftly darted around a corner, my body collided with somebody else’s. I glanced up to see Edmund, his face sporting a worried look once he saw my eyes brimming with tears. I pushed past him, not wanting to explain myself.

‘Hey, y/n where are you go-,’ Edmund shouted after me, but I had disappeared around the corner before I could hear him finish his sentence.

After my collision with Ed, I changed course and headed for the stables. I knew that if I were to go to my room, he would either follow me or be there waiting.

I rushed so hastily down the front stairs that I thought my legs would not be able to catch up with me. I leapt to reach the reins of my horse and pull myself onto the saddle, however a pair of arms abruptly stopped me in the act. A gasp flew out of mouth in shock. My mind was in disarray and I was desperate to get away from Cair Paravel and the person who had a steady grip on my arms. Edmund, once again, stood in front of me with a look of worry painted across his features. I felt my heart ache at the sight but with the feeling of my brain processing what felt like a thousand different emotions at once, I did not have the time to consider the strain in my chest any further.

‘Where are you going? What’s happened?’ Edmund said to me.

Without any response, I shrugged off his hands and continued to pull myself onto my horse.

‘Hey, y/n, talk to me. Please, where you are going?’

I did not know what to say to him, I just knew I had to leave in an attempt to order my shaken and confounded state. Without a single word falling from my lips, I pulled on the reins and Edmund quickly vanished from my sight as my horse picked up speed. The tears continued to fall, the wind harshly dragging them behind me.

The words written in the letter just played on a constant loop inside my head.

For the benefit of our family, you are to be married to the Prince of Tashbaan.

How was I supposed to avoid this? How could I, all but a mere Lady, worm my way out of an arrangement made by my father?

This news may displease you, but you need to consider how this would provide an advantage to our family and how you would be gifted with security and comfort for the rest of your life.

The words ‘rest of your life’ knocked the air out my lungs once again. A feeling of unbearable confinement continued to run through me even as I rode far from the castle and past the songs that echoed from the Dancing Lawn.

However, just as the feeling began to spread, a sudden idea caused me to pull harshly on the reins and begin to manoeuvre around the woods and back in the direction of Cair Paravel.

 I was quick to arrive back at the gates of the castle, although, upon my return I was swiftly informed of the absence of King Edmund. He had followed me.

This meant that he would also soon be returning back to Cair Paravel, which also meant I had little time to execute my plan.

After I had acknowledged this information, I wasted no time in making my way back to my room - which had been provided to me for to my temporary stay – and piling all my belongings into bags that would easily fit onto a saddle. I had to travel fairly light if I were to move fast.

With this, I flung the bags over my shoulder and made a beeline for the stables. However, to my dismay, just as I had set the saddle with all my bags, Edmund came rushing through the golden gates. I did not even have a moment to pull myself up onto my horse before he was beside me, pleading to know what had happened and stating how worried he was.

‘Edmund, I-, I am so sorry, but I need to leave,’ I said, my voice wavering.

‘Why? Whatever it is, am I sure something can be done to solve it,’ he replied.

‘I do not think that that would be possible. Edmund, please, I need to go.’

‘I cannot let you go. Tell me what has happened.’

I struggled to find a way to avoid telling him the truth. I desperately searched his face in attempt to find anything that would allow me to flee this encounter, but nothing was found but a steeled face blanketed with concern.

‘My father is to marry me to the Prince of Tashbaan, I received a letter earlier this morning stating this,’ I blurted out, a sob breaking free.

Tears began to flow freely down my cheeks as I watched a number of emotions flicker through Edmund’s face. Once he had understood what I said, a look of pure rage replaced the steely one, then a look of disbelief, and then finally, his faced soften at the sight of my exhausted and crestfallen self.

‘Y/n,’ he exclaimed and rushed forward, pulling me into him.

His embrace allowed me to stay upright even as my knees buckled with the sheer force of the desolation of my conscience. He rubbed at my back in a comforting manner and whispered sweet words into my hair.

‘I will sort this out, okay? Come on, I will help you take your bags back to your room,’ Edmund stated.

‘How can this be sorted, Ed?’

‘You do not need to worry about that, just trust me on this.’

At this, I allowed a weak smile to form. I was desperate to recognise the small feeling on hope within me, however, I was scared that it would be in vain if I did.

 Once Edmund had walked me back to my room, I permitted him to read the letter that my father had sent. A look of disgust washed over his face in reading it and he again assured me that he would resolve it. By then the tears had dried on my face, and Edmund had sent for Lucy to cheer me up. As soon as Lucy arrived, he was gone.

 I did not see him again until dinner that evening. He seemed tired but as soon as he saw me at the dining table, he sent a reassuring smile my direction and although he typically sat across from me - next to Susan - he elected to take his place by me.

The rest of the Pevensie siblings filed into the large hall. On evenings, there tended to be additional guests that were either there for political reasons, business opportunities, or just the occasional faun or dryad, however there were no visitors seated at the table. Well, apart from myself. I was staying at Cair Paravel due to the friendship I shared with the Kings and Queens, and the alliance between my father and them. While my father was away on business in Tashbaan, I was to stay with the Pevensies for two weeks. The letter stating my marriage to the Prince was obviously the product of such alleged ‘business’.

The dinner provided a calming atmosphere that shrunk the fear that was gnawing at me; that was until the conversation shifted to me.

Peter, who sat at the head of the table, coughed and shot Edmund a pointed look.

‘Y/n,’ Edmund spoke.

‘Yes.’ I turned towards him.

‘Peter and I have sent an urgent message to your father requesting his presence at Cair Paravel to talk through and then prevent the state of affairs he has organised against your will.’

I nodded my head, ‘Thank you.’

Peter spoke up, ‘If he is to accept the request, then he will be here tomorrow at noon. You do not have to attend the meeting if you do not want to.’

I glanced around the table, everyone looked at me with sympathetic eyes.

‘I will consider it, thank you again,’ my voice was small, ‘if it is okay, I wish to retire to my room now.’

Without another word, I hurriedly left the table.

 Once in my room, I closed the door behind me and sunk against it. Pulling my knees tight against me, I pleaded with myself not to cry. I was more than pleased with what Peter and Edmund had done, and with the extent of their kindness, however I had this feeling that their plan would not work and that I would have to marry the Prince of Tashbaan even if I did not wish to. Furthermore, I felt betrayed by my father. He had gone behind my back and set me up for a life I did not long to have. He was more than happy to marry me off to a man I had never met, and for the benefit of himself and himself only. That was what hurt the most.

Just as the tears began to fall, a knock sounded above me. A voice came through the door. It was Edmund. I moved myself away from the base of the door and allowed him to come in. At the image of me seated on the floor, my face tear-stained, he sat himself next to me on the wooden planks and embraced me. And in this moment, I let myself fall apart. I nestled my face into his chest and just sobbed and sobbed and sobbed; and throughout it all, Edmund did not say a word, he just sat there knowing that his presence was enough.

After the rate of my breathing had returned to its usual state, Edmund placed his arms under my legs and around my torso and lifted me from the ground. Carrying me over to my bed, he laid me down atop the covers and kneeled next to the bed.

‘It will be alright, I promise. Even if this meeting does not convince your father enough then I will figure something else out, okay?’ he said gently.  

I looked at him and there was something in his eyes that I could not describe. Even without the words to explain it, it made my heart beat just that little bit faster. A grin spread across my face.

‘Edmund, thank you. Seriously, I-, I do not know how to thank you enough.’

‘Do not thank me,’ he spoke, smiling.

‘You need to sleep Ed, you look exhausted.’

‘Yeah, yeah, I will.’

‘Good, goodnight,’ I said.

‘Goodnight.’

He pushed himself off his knees. Yet just as he turned to leave, I caught hold of his hand. His palm was soft, but slightly cold. He looked down at our hands as I turned his in mine to examine the scars that littered the back of his hand. I ran my thumb over the raised skin in awe. I gazed up at him, his lips slightly parted and a smile dancing on his face. I released his hand.

‘I’ll see you tomorrow,’ he concluded.

 My father arrived as requested, and at exactly noon. I decided to not involve myself in the discussion as I did not wish to get upset while in conversation with him. At noon, I watched my father walk with Edmund and Peter to the Great Hall from my bedroom window. And there I sat until I saw my father leave with the two brothers. Father sported what seemed to be a displeased look and then bid farewell to the Kings.

As soon as I saw my father disappear through the gates, I rushed from my spot by my window to find out what had been said in duration of their meeting.

‘Edmund!’ I shouted as soon as I spotted him with Peter by the Great Hall, ‘what happened?’

‘Your father is to send a letter to Tashbaan stating that you are unable to marry the Prince,’ smiled Edmund.

My jaw dropped in disbelief.

‘But,’ said Peter, ‘he wishes for you to return home.’

My eyebrows knitted together in anger. ‘I will do no such thing, how am I to return home after he tried to pretty much sell me to a man I have never met?’

‘If you do not want to go home, then you do not have to. You are welcome to stay here for as long as you please,’ replied Peter.

I sucked in a deep breath, calming myself.

‘Thank you Pete. I will send a letter to my father. And I know not to outstay my welcome, so when I am able I shall find somewhere else to stay.’

Peter nodded in response and then took his leave.

Once Peter was gone, I flung myself into Edmund’s arms. ‘Thank you, thank you, thank you,’ I gushed.

He laughed at my actions. ‘You do not need to thank me, I would do anything for you.’

‘Anything, huh?’ I questioned.

‘Anything,’ he said with a smile.

‘Kiss me.’

For a moment Edmund’s eyes widened at my words but he was quick to recover this as he captured my lips against his own.

Pulling away, I grinned at him.

‘You did say anything.’

‘I suppose I did,’ and at this, he pulled me in by my waist and kissed me again.

[keanureevesisbae]

But professor… - c.8

Summary: Walter and Penny adapt to Maryland

Professor!Walter Marshall x Penny Townsend (Asian ofc)

Wordcount: 2.1k

Warnings: None

Masterlist // But professor… masterlist // Previous chapter //

Tomorrow Walter and I are going to move to Maryland and there is just one more thing I need to do: buy some snacks. My cravings have been all over the place recently, so a trip without snack is asking for trouble. Walter is packing the final things with my mom and dad and in a minute they are going to put everything in the truck and U-haul. Since I’m the only one that knows what I really want, I decided to go on a little grocery store trip.

I’m wearing an oversized sweater on top of my leggings and it’s almost the only piece of clothing that is able to hide the bump. I’m seventeen weeks pregnant now, meaning the bump is harder and harder to hide, however this sweater will do. The chances of me running into someone I actually know is next to zero, but better be safe than sorry.

I walk into the grocery store and grab a basket, slowly filling it with what I want. ‘There she is,’ I hear a voice say, one I haven’t heard in so long and certainly haven’t missed.

Fitzgerald.

Every hair in my neck stands up straight. I simply pull my lips into an awkward smile, before walking off to the register. As I’m scanning the products, he actually follows me and I hate how this guy never understands the message, spoken or unspoken.

‘So, you haven’t been coming to classes,’ he says.

‘I know,’ I say, ‘I quit. Been looking into some other things.’

That is already more than I actually wanted to share with him, but hopefully it’s enough to make him go away.

‘Oh really? What you been looking into?’

Just fuck off, Fitzgerald. ‘First of all moving back home,’ I say, packing everything in my bag. ‘New York never really was the place for me.’ After paying for my snacks, I walk out of the store, only to hear the footsteps of the guy who just won’t leave me alone following behind me.

‘Did you hear that professor Marshall is quitting?’

Yes, I actually helped him writing his resignation letter. ‘Oh,’ I say, ‘I didn’t.’

‘Apparently he got a job offer somewhere else.’

Yep, in Maryland. ‘Good for him,’ I say. ‘Well, I gotta go. Bye, Fitzgerald.’

He wants to say something, but then his eyes widen. ‘Yeah, bye,’ he says. He quickly turns around and is gone by the time I looked over my shoulder at him.

What was that about?

When I look up, I glare at Walter, who is standing on the other side of the road, leaning against a street light, his arms crossed. I walk up to him and without saying a word at first, we get mixed into the crowd. ‘What was that about?’ I ask him.

‘Nothing,’ he says, a little too nonchalant for my liking, ‘just wanted to make sure that you weren’t carrying anything too heavy.’ He pulls the bags from my hands and adds: ‘I hate that snotty kid.’

‘I had everything under control,’ I say, poking his side. ‘Did you see him scooting away?’

‘I wish I had it on video,’ Walter chuckles.

My parents are already in the U-haul they rented to make moving as quickly and easy as possible for us and I hand them some snacks.

‘Oh, honey, I’m so glad you’re moving back,’ mom says, after our final pee. Walter just handed over the key to the realtor of his loft and stands behind me, before he says: ‘I know I am happy to move to Maryland. I quite love the place already.’ He presses a kiss on my temple.

My parents get in the U-haul and I wave to them as they drive off. Walter helps me in the truck and when he sits next to me, he gives me a kiss. ‘I love you,’ he tells me.

‘I love you too, Walter.’ I take off my sweater, before strapping myself in the seatbelt. ‘It’s ridiculously hot in here,’ I say, leaning back against the seat.

‘Twenty bucks you are gonna be cold within half an hour.’

I glare at him. ‘That’s mean.’

‘Ah, princess, don’t pout. You know how that makes me weak.’ I continue to tut my bottom lip out and he chuckles. ‘Let’s just hope the baby doesn’t get your pout, because otherwise I can never say no.’

‘No matter what the baby looks like,’ I say, ‘you’re gonna be unable to say no anyway. You are such a push over with me, this baby will wrap you around their finger in no time.’

‘Ai, exposed.’ He holds my hand in his as he drives off and gives me a kiss on my knuckles.

‘You thought about the co sleeping thing I mentioned to you?’ I ask him.

He sighs. ‘Yes and I’m not sure about it. I mean, we could place a crib in our room, right?’

‘But that’s so sad for the baby. To be alone like that after living inside my stomach for so long. What if they don’t be to be alone? They are not gonna sleep in our bed forever, Walter.’

‘I know,’ he says, ‘but… what if I crush them? I mean, they would be in between us, so… That means no sleep for me.’

I start to laugh. ‘That was your worry? Oh, Walter.’ Since I’m already close to him, I wrap my arms around his neck to give him a kiss on his cheek. ‘Aren’t you absolutely darling?’

I actually spot a faint blush on his cheeks.

I decide not to push it any further, because I feel like this co sleep thing is something that needs to simmer for awhile. ‘Can I ask a question?’ I ask.

He nods. ‘Of course.’

‘What if something goes wrong,’ I start, but he is having none of it.

‘No, no, no, nothing is gonna go wrong.’

‘But what if?’ I say. ‘I mean, something could go wrong during birth.’

He clenches his jaw, not wanting to talk about it obviously. ‘I see,’ he mumbles.

‘What I wanted to say was that if I am unable to answer, that you should decide what happens, okay? I’m one hundred percent sure you are going to choose the right thing for us.’

He smiles. ‘That’s what you wanted to tell me?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Oh, princess, princess, don’t scare me like that, okay?’

I smile. ‘Sorry.’

✎ ✎ ✎

Walter and I bought a house and never in a million years did I expect to have this type of domestic life at only twenty one, however it’s exactly the life I have now and I wouldn’t change it for the world. The move from New York and Maryland went pretty swiftly, especially because my parents helped a lot, since it’s only twenty minutes from my parents’ place.

The place we chose was already pretty great, but Walter and I decided—okay, I decided—that some wallpaper should cheer it up. It was a lot of white and it made me feel like I was at a dentist. There’s lots of pastel going on now, mint green, baby blue, soft pink and some yellow.

However, Walter did all the work, because he doesn’t want me to do anything. Too much work can’t be good for the baby, princess.

He now works at the Maryland Police Department and he is actually enjoying it a lot. He now is on patrol duties, but it will only take a few months before he is back as a detective again.

Weeks have gone by and today marks me being twenty seven weeks pregnant. I won’t lie about it, but I’m very over this pregnancy already. Everything hurts. My head hurts, my stomach hurts, my boobs hurts and don’t get me started on my back. I’m mostly sitting on the couch, reading both informative books and novels if I’m not mindlessly watching Netflix shows.

I am a horrendous cook, but I continue to try some things for Walter, because I hate it that he has to both work and cook himself some dinner when he’s off.

Walter comes back from work and smiles when he sees me. ‘There is my beautiful woman,’ he says. ‘Princess, princess, aren’t you gorgeous.’

‘Stop,’ I chuckle, trying to get up from the couch, but fail miserably. ‘I’m sorry, but dinner got burned.’

He smiles. ‘That’s okay, princess. I’ll order some take out, don’t you worry.’

‘I’m really useless,’ I admit. ‘I’m so sorry.’

He scoffs. ‘Don’t say stuff like that. You’re never useless.’ He wraps an arm around my shoulders and pulls me against his side. ‘Tell me what did you do today?’

‘I went to that meeting,’ I say, ‘talked about being a first time mom. It’s just that…’ I place my head against his shoulder. ‘I’m scared.’

‘Why is that, princess?’

‘What if I’m a terrible mom?’

‘You’re not gonna be a terrible mom,’ he retorts. ‘The audacity to think you’re gonna be a terrible mom, when I know that you are nothing but sweet, kind, lovely and you will be a wonderful mom.’

‘Really?’ I ask.

‘Really, darling.’ He places his hand on my stomach and says: ‘It’s okay to be scared, however, you have nothing to worry about. Not when I am right here for the two of you.’

✎ ✎ ✎

The next day, while my mom and I are folding some baby clothes, we watch dad and Walter finish the crib. Mom has been sharing embarrassing baby stories about me and to make things even worse, my dad adds a few stories to it, some I didn’t even know.

Thankfully Walter really enjoys them, because he chuckles loudly. It took him awhile, but he is really liking it, having my parents around.

‘You really don’t want to know the gender?’ mom asks me.

‘No,’ I say, ‘I like to be surprised.’

‘Walter,’ my mom sighs, ‘can’t you talk some sense into her?’

‘Sorry, CC,’ he says, ‘but I kinda like the surprise too.’

She scoffs, before she lets out a chuckle. The baby already made the bond between my parents and I a lot tighter and for that I’m forever grateful.

I resit a little and Walter wouldn’t be Walter if he didn’t notice immediately I was slightly uncomfortable. ‘Princess, are you okay?’

‘Yeah, just my back hurts.’

‘How about you go to bed?’ Walter suggests. ‘Rest a little? You’ve been up pretty early on.’ When I don’t stand up immediately, he walks over to me and crouches down in front of me. ‘What’s wrong, princess?’

‘Nothing, just tired and in pain, that’s all.’

He nods, pulls me up and holds my hand tightly in his. I want to apologize to my parents, but my mom simply tells me not to worry. ‘Pregnancy can be rough, darling,’ she says, ‘so please don’t worry.’

I wonder if it’s hard for my mom to see me pregnant, when she couldn’t get pregnant herself. She never said it to me, but still I wonder from time to time. Even if she does have some hard feelings against it, she never shows it, as she is super supportive of the pregnancy. I give her a kiss, just like I give my dad a kiss and mom says: ‘Walter, did you even sleep last night?’

‘No, this one woke me up,’ he says with a smile.

‘You should sleep as well. You had a late shift the day before yesterday and you two should get a lot of sleep when you can. When the baby is here, she’ll keep you up.’

‘We really don’t know the gender, mom,’ I say with a chuckle. ‘I don’t know if they are gonna be a he or a she.’

‘Worth a shot, you gotta give me that. Okay, you go rest, we finish up in here and let ourselves out. We love you.’

‘Love you too,’ I say back, before Walter and I walk towards the bedroom. He helps me out of my sweatpants and into the bed. I hug the pregnancy pillow, and the bed dips down a bit when Walter gets underneath the thin blanket behind me. He places his hand on my stomach, before kissing my temple. ‘You comfortable, sweetheart?’

‘I am,’ I whisper. ‘I’m sorry I’m keeping you up.’

‘No, don’t do that.’

It only causes me to sniffle, but Walter knows exactly what to do when I have these slight emotional outbursts. He pulls my back closer against his chest, despite him being very warm, he tugs the blankets over our bodies and warms me up even more, giving me more kisses on the side of my face. ‘It can get pretty rough, princess,’ he says, ‘and that’s okay. Just let it all out, okay?’

‘Why are you so sweet?’ I hiccup.

He chuckles. ‘Well, you’re gonna be the mom of our kid and you’re my girlfriend. Of course I’m gonna be sweet to you. Forever and ever, princess. Forever and ever.’

[sadachmesarthim]

bingo fill two: cum fetish

content: peter being a Sudden Service Top, shy!tony, tony being an Absolute Whore 

hope you enjoy <333 

Peter was nothing, if not a man of science. Above all else, he cared about thorough investigation and novel discovery.

So when he realized what a cumslut Tony Stark was... He decided to experiment.

They hadn't been together long - they'd danced around each other for years, finally caving when Peter finished undergrad. It was a comfortable type of love - something you see in old movies, or cheesy romance novels.

But the sex... Jesus christ, the sex.

Peter hadn't had much time for... self discovery, while in school. Between patrol, double majoring in biochem and genetics, and maintaining a semidecent sleep schedule, there wasn't really opportunity for him to date or fuck around.

So when he came back to Manhattan, and they finally quit mooning over each other... needless to say, Tony hadn't had that much sex since his twenties.

It was generally kind of nice. Tony was sweet, gentle in his love making. Peter preened under the attention, sure - there was nothing wrong with their sex life. But Peter could tell Tony wanted something different.

When he brought it up, Tony turned bright red, stumbling over his words.

"It's not... There's nothing wrong, honey, really, I promise. I just... Sometimes I wish I was in your... position." This left Peter confused. "You... You want to bottom?" He'd never mentioned anything about it before.

Peter's tone didn't help Tony's blush, nor did it make him feel better about the whole ordeal. "Listen it's not... It's not an issue really and I don't... I don't have to. Seriously, if you're not comfortable we-" Peter stopped him mid sentence.

"Okay, no, that's not what I said at all. I just didn't know what you meant, Tony, let's take a step back." His hands immediately went to Tony's shoulders, bringing the older man back to the present. Grounding. "I love you, you know that right?"

Tony relaxed in his grip, taking a deep breath. "I know, I know, and I love you too. I just... It's embarrassing." Peter cocked his head, still not following. "You gotta use your words, T, or I can't give you what you want."

He closed his eyes, thumbs stroking over Peter's knuckles. He could do this, he could do this.

"I... So you know how you got bit by the spider, right?" Peter was very aware. He was also aware of just how bad Tony was stalling.

"Tony if you don't just spit it out I swear to go-"

"I want to see how much cum you can fit inside me!" He broke. With Peter holding him, right up in his face, he couldn't do it, couldn't hold it in anymore.

He slid to his knees, head falling into his hands. "I just... You can go so much, and sometimes when I'm fucking you I get to thinking.. How many times could you go in one night? How much could you produce? A few ounces? A cup? More? Makes me cum so quick just thinkin' about it, even in my old age. Can't stop thinkin' about it, about you fillin' me up like that. I can't do it anymore.

"It makes me feel like a gross old man, you know? Thinking about you like that? About you using me like a toy? It drives me crazy but I can't stop, can't keep it in anymore." He was shaking, unable to stop himself once he started.

Peter's eyes were wide, mind racing to process what Tony was saying. The bite had impacted their sex life - he could rebound almost instantly, and he did... produce more than the average twenty-something.

He sat down next to Tony, cradling him. "That's all you had to say, baby, it's okay. Shh shh, you're okay." he rubbed circles into Tony's shoulder, kissing his temple. "You know I'd never judge you for wanting something, right?"

Tony sighed. He knew that, logically, of course. His anxiety around admitting it didn't listen to logic, though, and it was hard to override that. "I know. I know. I love you. I'm sorry for freaking out."

Peter just kissed him again. "It's okay, T."

•|||•

Peter waited a few weeks before bringing it up again - both for Tony's benefit, and his.

He'd spent a long time digging through medical journals, doing independent research... He even made a (very awkward) call to Dr. Strange.

It didn't take him long to create a game plan: he needed to double his water intake, get more leafy greens and ripe fruit in. It wasn’t difficult - he had to shift around some of his calories, sure, but he made it work.

The worst part was not orgasming. He and Tony'd resumed their normal sexual activities a few days after their... discussion. But Peter made it a point not to cum - he wanted to build up as much as possible.

Even worse - he was edging himself several times a day. Massaging his prostate, sleeping with Tony, jerking off until just on this side of orgasm in the shower... He made it a point to work himself up and then leave himself there. He'd read several articles that talked about edging and semen production, and they all agreed - the less you cum, the more you produce and retain.

So he went with it. For the better part of a month - he didn't cum.

Tony, initially questioned it - but with some solid reassurances, and promises that Peter had "something exciting" in store, he let up. Getting him on the edging process was fun too - enough spice to keep Tony entertained until Peter was ready.

And ready, he was.

•|||•

He decided on a Friday night - that way they'd have all weekend to recover (or continue, if Tony wanted).

He made a real spectacle of it, too - stocking them with water bottles and easy snacks, bringing in a bunch of clean towels and leaving them at the foot of the bed. He wanted this to be good for Tony, and part of that was being ready for anything.

He waited until Tony was finished with work to bring it up. He didn't want Tony to be distracted at all, and he knew exactly how much anticipation can hinder daily activities.

When Tony walked through the doors of the penthouse, he could tell something was up.

It wasn't like Peter to be so... Flighty.

He was walking circles around the bar, drink in hand. Tony couldn't tell whether or not it was a drink drink, but it didn't matter... If Peter was up and pacing like this, there was definitely something up.

"Hey baby, how was your day?" Okay, yeah, something's definitely up. Peter never asked - he always waited for Tony to start - always gave Tony the opportunity to either vent about, or forget entirely, the day he'd just finished.

Tony dropped his suit jacket on the bar chair, walking back to meet Peter where he stood. He grabbed Peter's face in his hands, kissing down from his forehead to his lips. Peter sighed into the contact, relaxing immediately. "It was okay. What's got you all tense like this?"

Peter exhaled sharply before responding. "You know how you... brought up that thing, a few weeks ago? That thing you wanted to try?" Tony hesitated, eyes narrowing. "I... Yeah. Why?"

Peter blushed under the scrutny. "I've... Well, you know how I've been working on that thing? Not... not coming? I wanted to surprise you... And I think today'd be a good day." Tony was confused now. "You... you wanna try it? Topping, I mean?"

Peter snorted. "Not just topping, silly. That thing you specifically mentioned - seeing how much I could make, for you? I've been keepin' myself on edge, saving up all my cum for you." Tony shivered, goosebumps forming down the entire length of his arms. Peter's breath left his hair on edge, his words burning straight through Tony.

"I... I remember. Are- are you sure? Like I said, I mean, we don't hav-" Peter cut him off almost immediately.

"If I didn't want to do it, baby, why would I bring it up? Why would I spend almost a month edging myself for you? Why would I spend a month intentionally eating semen-enhancing foods, hmm? You think I was doing all that stuff for the hell of it?" Tony blushed at the words, head dropping to Peter's shoulder. "No, of course not, I ju-"

"You need to stop making excuses." Peter pulled back, meeting Tony's eyes. "If I didn't want to do this, I wouldn't have brought it up. Wouldn't have spent so long making sure I was full enough, had enough for you. You know how long it's been since I've cum, T, baby? Twenty seven days. It's been twenty seven days of edging, of producing this-" he reached down, gently cupping his own balls through his shorts "- for you? All of this cum, just waiting for you, waiting for your pretty hole?" Tony shivered at the words. Fuck, Peter knew exactly how to work him up.

"I'm sorry, baby, I just- this is a lot. So much, Pete, you gotta know that." His vulnerability was aparent.

"I know, Tones. We can go slow if you want - we won't do anything. Just want to show you i'm willing." Peter's tone was gentle, reassuring. It helped Tony immesurably.

"I- okay. I want to. Try, I mean. I trust you, we just gotta.. Gotta go slow. I'm an old man, you know." Peter knew it was said in jest, but Tony would always have a soft spot in his heart. "Not that old," he poked.

Tony bit back with a kiss, forgoing words he wasn't sure he could find. It was slow, soft at first - a thank you for everything Peter did for him, for the whole situation.

Peter responded eagerly, taste of grenadine and carbonation on his lips. Thank god, he hadn't been drinking. Something Tony'd always appreciate - Peter's sober excitement. The energy he put into their relationship. The devotion. He balanced Tony out perfectly. 

Peter nipped at his bottom lip. It was sweet - playful, but it made the whole thing so much more intense. Tony responded in kind, licking into his mouth. He pulled a quiet moan from Peter, seizing the opportunity to meet the other's tongue. Passion always took a while to build with them - reverence and love always taking priority.

Today, though... Today was different.

Tony's mind was still going steady, trying to process exactly what they were about to do. Peter really wanted to try this with him. It was groundbreaking.

He felt the excitement burn low in his stomach. He'd always had a thing for cum - whether it was his inside someone, or vice versa - there was just something so visceral about it. Watching it slowly drip from someone's hole, sucking it out, sharing it. The idea of breeding someone, of being bred, having cum forced inside him over and over again, without consequence...

He'd tried to keep his love for it under wraps - Pepper had no real want for children, and god forbid he get wrapped up in a custody battle. He hadn't messed around with other men since his twenties, either, so the opportunity to explore this side of him just... never came up.

But now, with Peter - his most beloved supertwink with a refactory period of, like, -1, and his enhanced output... the possibilities washed over him.

He hadn't realized just how turned on it made him until Peter separated them, hands toying with Tony's waistband. The sudden lack of lips on his gave him the opportunity to express his appreciation - several broken moans escaping him. "Oh god, Peter, baby please."

He never claimed to be above begging, but he didn't do it often. It was a sight to behold, and with Peter being on a hair trigger...

Peter reached up, grabbing Tony by the throat. "What do you want, love? Use your words, tell me. Can't give you what you want if you don't use your words, Tony."

Tony dropped his head, gasping into Peter's neck. "Please, Peter, baby. I need you to fuck me."

Peter laughed, breathy. "Can't hear you, baby. Come on, come up and tell me what you want."

Tony looked up, shaky exhale falling onto Peter's lips. "I. Need you. To fuck me. Please, Pete?" His request was met with a smile. "Of course, baby."

Peter reached down and hooked under Tony's thighs, lifting him up like he weighed nothing. Tony often forgot about Peter's strength when they weren't in the field - feeling weightless like this, safe in Peter's arms? It was erotic, it was safe, it was everything. "Oh, god."

Peter took them to the bedroom, carefully setting Tony down on the bed.

Tony reached his arms up, snaking around Peter's neck. He brought them together for another kiss, not wanting to lose contact with Peter.

Peter chuckled, carefully peeling Tony away from him. "We can't do this if you don't let me get naked, T. Be patient." Tony rolled his eyes, allowing his fists to fall back to the bed. "Been patient, need you now." Peter tossed his shirt to the floor before dignifying Tony with a response.

"Don't talk to me about patient, mister. I've gone almost a month without coming, how do you think I feel?" He finished removing his jeans, leaving him in nothing but strained boxer briefs. Tony could see the outline of his cock, already leaking. He was nearly as hard in his own pants - which he was suddenly excited to remove.

Peter, perceptive as always, walked toward Tony and began helping him strip. Now shirtless, Tony reached up to place his hands on Peter's chest. He planted small kisses all over it, worshipping the man in front of him. Peter threaded his fingers through Tony's hair, enjoying the attention. "I thought this was about you, baby. Why you takin' your time with me?"

Tony looked up, smiling at the man above him. "Just thankful, is all. Love you." Peter cupped the sides of his face, reaching down and kissing Tony reverently. "Anything for you, baby. Anything. Now, let's get you out of those pants." Tony fiddled with his zipper, tugging the slacks down to his ankles before kicking them to the side. Now in a similar state as Peter, he felt so much more open, exposed. They were really about to do this. Peter had prepared for this. His dream was finally coming true.

He inhaled sharply, feeling the flush of arousal reach his cock. It was so intense, so much all at once - he felt high. This was definitely not an experience he planned on forgetting anytime soon.

Peter straddled him, shifting them back and up the bed. He met Tony halfway, sighing into the kiss. It was firey, full of hunger - neither really wanted to wait anymore.

Peter pulled back, meeting Tony's eyes. "Are you ready? You sure about this?" Tony nodded his head, mind too cloudy to use words right away. He was ready about this, so fucking ready.

His face must've said everything - Peter quickly helped him out of his boxers, sliding them down and tossing them next to the towels. He grabbed the bottle of lube he set out, wetting his fingers thoroughly before reaching down.

Tony'd opted to lay on his front, knees tucked under his hips for better access. Thank god for a nanite bed - they'd developed the tech to aid healing times and recovery after surgery and intense (battles) workouts, but quickly discovered the many sexual uses for it - one of which being added support for Tony's joints.

Peter traced over his hole, toying with him a moment. He very rarely topped in general, but he'd be willing to do it for the rest of his life if it meant he could see Tony like this. He was already so sensitive, gasping and rocking back into the attention. Peter laughed, gripping Tony's hip harder and steeling him before teasing his rim. He was so gentle - just barely dipping in with his index finger before massaging around and pulling back out. He wanted this to be good for Tony, not just a check off his bucket list.

Tony keened, hips pushing back into Peter's fingers. Greedy. "Relax, T. Let me do the work, okay baby?" All he received was a high whimper in response.

Peter laughed, rolling his eyes as he finally gave Tony what he wanted - he thrust two fingers in, careful not to go too deep to fast. Tony moaned, pitchy and high in his throat. It was so much better than he remembered.

Peter kneaded Tony's ass with his free hand, mouthing praise into his beautiful cheeks. Who knew he'd be such a service top? Peter certainly didn't, but he was definitely enjoying it.

He twisted his fingers, feeling around for Tony's prostate. When he found it he pushed, gently, redirecting his attention toward giving Tony the best prostate massage of his life. Tony instantly jumped, gasping into the sensation. Peter's fingers were just long enough to reach, just dextrous enough to keep him on edge. Tony fisted at the sheets, at Peter's shoulder - it was so much. Why did he ever stop bottoming?

He rediscovered his voice shortly after. "Fuck, Pete baby please, need you to fuck me now. Wanna cum on your cock, can't wait anymore. Please baby, please, need you." He was babbling, desperate and not willing to hide it anymore.

Peter, nearly as fucked out, conceeded. They were planning on going multiple times tonight, anyway, why not get the first orgasm out of the way? He pulled his fingers from Tony, wiping them off on one of the nearby towels. Good job, Parker.

Tony whined at the emptiness, still so unabashedly needy. Peter smiled to himself. He'd never seen Tony like this before, and he was so happy he was the one to do this to him. Tony was known for his stoicism and poker face - for Peter to be able to tear that wall down so easily? It was a pride point, for sure.

He reached for the bottle of lube again, coating himself in the cool liquid as he stroked. It didn't take much to get him ready - he felt like he'd been hard for eons, and wasn't thrilled with the whole "waiting" thing.

Peter rubbed over his hole again, smirking when Tony instinctively clenched around nothing. He sat up on his knees, easing himself into the man in front of him. Tony immediately dropped from his elbows, moaning as Peter sank all the way inside. It was so much better than he'd imagined - Peter wasn't particularly lengthy or girthy, but it felt like he was made for Tony. Designed specifically to fuck into Tony's hole, and to wreck him as he did it.

It literally brought Tony to his knees, arching back into Peter's touch and begging him to move. "Please, Peter, baby, give it to me. I can take it, whatever you give me, please, just please I need you to move. I need you to fuck me, baby, please."

it was enough to convince Peter. He pulled back, forcing himself all the way back with a quick snap of his hips. Tony moaned, broken and desperate. It was slowly becoming his mo - who knew Tony Stark was such a slut for his baby's cock, for his cum?

Apparently Peter'd been thinking out loud. He tended to do that during sex - couldn't keep his mouth shut, and whatever "filter" he had completely flew out the window. "Yeah? You like it when I fuck you, T? Like the idea of me cumming inside your pretty little hole? Wanna feel my cum leak out of you, baby? How much do you think i'll give you today, hmm? You do the math on it? I did. I did a whole fuck ton, just to see how much I'd give you.

"You wanna know how much cum I'll give you, T? Hmm? Math says it'll be 1000 mils the first time, can you imagine that? One thousand mililiters of cum, in your pretty little hole. Leaking out, drippin' all down your thighs? You're such a slut, can't even stay tight long enough to hold my cum inside. What a little cockslut, you are. Who would've thought?

"We already know how many times I can go. What was our max, like 8? Imagine eight of those fat loads inside you, love. Can you feel it? Can you feel me inside you? You're so tight, Tony, but you won't be when I'm done with you. No, I'm gonna stuff you full and leave you like this, leave you to feel as it runs out of you.

"Or maybe, maybe, I'll leave you here. I'll wipe you off, get you all clean. Then maybe I'll run over, grab one of our plugs. Plug your pretty little ass, leave you full of my cum. How about that? You like the sound of that?"

He did, by god Tony did. The sound of it, the sheer idea of being so full, so heavy with Peter's cum inside him... being plugged, and left to suffer..

It had him cumming embarassingly early. Tony typically prided himself on his stamina - stamina that was nonexistent with Peter's words.

He came, slack and broken, with Peter's name on his lips. He felt his own cum splatter on his stomach. It was pathetic, it was nothing compared to what Peter was going to give him. It was humiliating in the best way imaginable.

Peter groaned, gritting his teeth as he felt Tony tighten through his orgasm. It was too much, he was so on edge after waiting so long.

It was nearly painful when he finally came. He could feel his balls tighten, feel the fluid flowing through him and spraying out the other side. He felt like a fucking firehose, orgasm lasting nearly a full minute.

He felt like a popped balloon after, useless after being so thoroughly empty.

It was made perfectly fine, though, by Tony's rising stomach.

This might have been the first load, and it was probably going to be the biggest of them all, but Peter was still shocked at just how much of an impact it made. Tony's stomach grew, near a solid inch as Peter continued pumping into him. The more he thrust, the larger he got - Peter continued to thrust into him until it was painful.

When he pulled out, a healthy amount surged from Tony's abused hole, covering the sheets beneath them. Peter snagged a towel in time to catch it, not wanting it to soak through to the mattress. It took several to handle the mess in front of him, and by the time he was done Tony was nearly asleep.

Peter stood, walking over to their dresser. He opened the top drawer, removing one of their smaller plugs. There was zero resistence when he slid it inside Tony, preventing the rest of him from escaping.

Tony hummed, content. "When do you think you'll be ready to go again? Because I definitely need a nap." He hadn't opened his eyes, but he still blindly reached out for Peter.

He smiled, sinking down into Tony's arms. "Wake me up when you do. I'll be ready."