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poeghoul · 1 year ago

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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

#harry #harry styles #harry smut #harry styles smut #harry styles imagine #one direction #harry imagine #harry styles blurb #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fic #harry styles angst #harry styles fanfiction #harry one shot #harry styles writing #harry styles x fem!reader #harry styles one shot #harry styles fluff #harry fic #writing

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seiya-starsniper · 1 year ago

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WIP Word Search Game

I AM 8 BAJILLION YEARS LATE WITH NO EXCUSES (that's a lie, I was sick so haven't written too much lmaoooooo) but thank you so much for the tags @five-and-dimes and @hardly-an-escape

My words are cold, warm, soft, hold, hurt and book, scare, red, hip, tree. Let's see what we've got!

Putting this under a cut because it got long!

Cold:

From an Untitled Dreamling Forced Marriage AU

Dream wishes he had tried harder to convince Robert to open their marriage. Then maybe he could have had someone else’s child, and taken the fall for an affair and run off, out of this cold, loveless place. But Robert had vehemently refused him even that small comfort, and Dream now finds himself hating his husband for it. Now he was trapped forever, with no escape.

Warm:

Continuation of Untitled Portrait of a Man (I Want to Obliterate Me)

“Hey,” Hob greets warmly, breaking Dream out of his reverie and forcing him to reboot his brain. “Hob,” Dream says, cringing internally at how breathless he sounds despite Hob being the one breathing heavily at his door. If the other man notices, he doesn’t comment on it. “It’s bloody hot outside,” Hob replies. He runs a hand through his sweat soaked hair and Dream has to clamp his jaw shut before he blurts out something stupid like “it’s bloody hot inside too”.

Soft:

From the Untitled sequel to A Dream for a Viscount

He wakes to sunlight filtering through the windows, soft and gentle. Hob is snoring peacefully next to him, a rarity as he is normally an early riser while Dream prefers to sleep in. Dream’s last night of heat had been his most fervent, and he blushes when he remembers how desperately he had begged for Hob’s knot, had even begged the alpha to stay inside him until they both fell asleep.

Hold:

Continuation of Untitled Portrait of a Man (I Want to Obliterate Me)

Dream doesn’t expect Hob to show up for their final session. He has every right not to. When he had left Dream’s apartment last week, Dream had buried himself in his work and his sketches. He obsessively stalked the man's social media accounts and downloaded dozens of photos to use a reference in case he needed them to finish his project. In case Hob decided to not come back. The photos don't hold a candle to the real thing though.

Hurt:

From the Untitled sequel to Break Me, Shake Me

Johanna explains to the group gathered who Dream is, and why he’s agreed to help them. Though many of the group regard him warily, as they should, they all fully accept that he's yet another person that's been irreparably hurt by Roderick. Dream wonders what it is they see when they look at him. Roderick has not left him with scars, nor starved him. But there must be something in his expression because Dream catches more than a few pitying glances.

Book:

Continuation of Untitled Portrait of a Man (I Want to Obliterate Me)

“So are you going to let me see what you've done so far, or do I need to wait for the finished product?” Hob asks, settling himself back on the lounge and looking far too comfortable. He doesn't seem to be in a hurry to get dressed, much to Dream’s chagrin. It’s not that he minds Hob’s company, but he’s so horny he might actually explode if Hob doesn’t dress and leave soon. “When I have something worth sharing, you will be the first to see it,” Dream replies, more curt than he'd intended. Hob doesn't seem bothered by his shortness though, he simply huffs in amusement before he stands and walks over to where Dream is sitting as he finishes some additional lines on his sketches. On instinct, Dream pulls his sketchbook close to his chest when Hob is close enough, and when he looks up, he finds himself staring at the most brilliant amber brown eyes he’s ever seen. He almost tells Hob to sit back down just so he can sketch them.

Scare:

Not found in any of my WIP documents (but I'm sure that'll change soon enough!)

Red:

Follow up to SnowBaz Dreamling shenanigans, requested by @bazzybelle

“ ‘m not drunk,” Morpheus insists. Hob snorts. “Sure, sure, and I had the queen of England over at my place this summer,” Hob jokes. “I’m serious!” Morpheus insists, huffing and puffing out his cheeks like a small child. It’s absolutely adorable, if not absolutely terrible for Hob’s balance. Morpheus’s cheeks and lips are both flushed cherry-red from the cold, the most color Hob’s ever seen on the other man since they met. It was a really good look on him. A very tempting look. “Pretty sure your boyfriend would agree with me,” Hob replies, reminding himself that no matter how cute and tempting Morpheus looked, Hob wasn’t a homewrecker. Even if Baz would have thanked him for him and written him a check for enough money to pay the rest of his rent and tuition for the rest of the year. Morpheus furrows his brow. “Boyfriend?” he asks in a confused state. “What boyfriend?”

Hip:

From the Untitled sequel to Break Me, Shake Me

“What do you like, baby?” Hob asks again. “Tell me, I’ll give it to you.” Dream wants to say, look at me. Tell me you can't live without me. Instead, he places a hand on the alpha’s chest, pushing him back and off of him until Hob is sitting on his ankles watching him, his eyes never leaving Dream’s. Then Dream turns and presents himself, bracing on his elbows and knees as he spreads his legs as wide as he can manage. “Take me rough, just like this,” Dream whines. “I want to feel you so deep inside me, I forget everything else.” Hob growls and grabs him by the hips, before the alpha finally, finally does what Dream’s been fantasizing about for weeks and sinks himself into the omega’s cunt.

Tree:

From Chapter 3 of Set the Night on Fire

“You need to leave,” Dream says, his voice low and dangerous as he hears the adventuring party advance further into his territory. By his estimates, they would be at the bottom of the trail leading up the mountain in an hour. “What? Why?” Hob asks, sitting up and now fully awake. Dream does not explain further, he simply grabs Hob by the waist, careful not to squeeze too hard on the soft human’s body, before he dashes out of the cave and jumps from the cliff, taking off into the chilly morning air. “What the fucking hell!” Hob yells as Dream carries them high above the trees, and as far away from the fast approaching humans as the bounds of his curse will allow. He cannot allow the humans to see Hob. He cannot allow them to think Hob is aligned with him. If they do, they’ll kill him, and Dream would not be able to stand it if he loses another human companion.

tagging @pellaaearien @bazzybelle @arialerendeair @blueberrymffn @beauty-of-nyx @tj-dragonblade @bruce-wayne-simp @delta-pavonis @lostelfwriting

Your words are: blue, rich, sky, jacket, and heart

#dreamling #seiya writes #seiya gets tagged #seiya's wip previews #nsft #omegaverse #angst galore!#if there's one thing these word searches make me do #it's write more so I can fill the prompted words LMAO #thanks for tagging me friends!!! 💖

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popculturebuffet · 5 days ago

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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.

#teenage mutant ninja turtles #we wish you a turtles christmas #turtle tunes #leonardo #michealangelo #raphael #donetello #splinter #live action #vhs #christmas

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goatchulu · 4 years ago

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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."

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jungshookz · 4 years ago

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teeny tidbits: three years later and yoongi is still very much in love with y/n

according to my period tracking app i’m due in four days so that explains why i felt the sudden urge to sit down and write this

also i had to go back and read the wedding drabble to double-check a minor detail and.,,.., barfs i am so sorry for all of the ceo!drabbles the writing is so tragic

i hope u enjoy this small product of my sappiness <3

➺ pairing; ceo!yoongi x y/n

➺ genre; idk just very sappy and gooey and if ur a ceo!couple stan ur going to love this

➺ wordcount; 1.4k

»»————-　💞　————-««

the first thing yoongi finds especially odd when he steps into the penthouse is the fact that it’s a little too quiet for his liking

he purses his lips as he shuts the door behind him, blindly turning the lock with a quiet click as he looks around

sure, it’s almost midnight, but you’re usually tinkering around in the kitchen for a snack or watching netflix on the couch whenever he comes home late... so where are you now?

he’s about to call out for you when he suddenly remembers that hwayoung’s definitely fast asleep by this hour and that you’d murder him in cold blood if he accidentally woke her up and ruined her sleeping schedule (she gets very grouchy when she’s not following a set schedule - and yoongi knows her sour morning attitude was probably inherited from him but he sleeps more peacefully at night thinking that it’s because of one of your genes)

yoongi places his keys on the top of the shoe cabinet quietly before reaching down to yank his laces loose

“woah.” he holds his hands out to keep himself steady after he stands up too quickly and his head starts to spin and he starts to see double

oof

maybe he should’ve slowed down with the wine at dinner

it’s not his fault he’s so weak for a good red!

“shower time, showah time…” yoongi murmurs to himself as he makes his way up the spiral staircase, gripping onto the railings tightly so that he doesn’t slip on his way up, “would you like to join me? wanna come with? lemme soap you up, girl-” he slurs, smiling cheekily to himself at the possibility of being able to run his hands all over your body in a few short minutes

he gives himself a high five when he makes it to the top of the staircase successfully, wobbling for a split second before nodding to himself and giving himself a mental pat on the back

B-)

nice

the warm light coming from the crack in the door leaks into the hallway and yoongi shuffles towards it like a moth towards a flame, reaching up to fumble at his tie with boneless fingers-

yoongi immediately freezes once he reaches the door, his heart skipping a beat in his chest when he catches a glimpse of you wearing your wedding dress through the crack

he watches curiously as you smooth your hand over the neckline before turning from side to side to look at yourself in the mirror

he wasn’t expecting to see this when he came up here but he’s definitely not complaining

yoongi presses his hand against the door frame to keep himself from accidentally stumbling in and scaring you and ruining what seems to be a private moment

it’s just that seeing you in your dress again is triggering a sudden flood of memories of your guys’ wedding day into his mind and it’s making his heart feel all funny (it’s actually just heartburn from the wagyu steak he wolfed down earlier)

the corners of yoongi’s mouth immediately raise in a fond smile at the recollection of you staring up at him with so much love in your eyes as he slid the silver ring onto your finger

it was a beautiful ceremony

the food was great

the champagne was fabulous

the after-party was super fun

the after-after party where it was just you and him alone was definitely fun as well

he can still recall the scent of you all over him when he woke up the next morning

and obviously the honeymoon was great - who doesn’t like paris?!

not to mention, you still look just as beautiful as you did on the day the two of you said i do

maybe it’s just because the alcohol is making him feel all goopy inside but he wants to be a part of whatever moment you’re having!!!

“i’m pretty sure it’s bad luck for me to see you in your wedding dress before the wedding, darling.” yoongi pushes the door open with a creak and takes his bottom lip in between his teeth to keep himself from smiling too widely, “want me to close my eyes?”

“yoongi!” you gasp, pulling your veil up and over your head as you spin around quickly, “god, i don’t understand how your footsteps are so quiet- i really think i should put a bell on you or something-”

“what are you doing?” yoongi interrupts, tilting his head curiously as he offers you a soft smile, “hopefully not wearing your dress so you can run off and marry someone else.”

“no, obviously not-” you snort, rolling your eyes and shaking your head, “i was doing some cleaning earlier and i found the box and… i don’t know, i wanted to see if i could still fit into it and… well-” you sigh, turning back around to look at yourself in the mirror before flopping your arms down in defeat, “it doesn’t zip all the way up anymore.”

“to be fair, you’ve given birth to a child since our wedding.” yoongi raises a brow, glancing down at the zipper that’s stuck halfway up your back, “even if you didn’t fit into it at all it would still be totally fine-”

“yeah, but i had to suck in a lot just to get the stupid zipper up halfway-!” you whine quietly, pouting at yourself in the mirror before gesturing to your chest, “one sneeze and my boobs are going to pop out-”

“i wouldn’t be opposed to that-”

“you know, maybe i should’ve had spanx embedded into the dress instead of it being 100% silk because silk is not a very forgiving material-”

“oh, baby…” yoongi chuckles, slinking his arms around you from behind before leaning down to prop his chin up on your shoulder, “don’t be so hard on yourself! your body literally made a human being- forgive it if it can’t fit into a dress from, like, three years ago…”

“i guess…” you trail off, leaning back a little to rest your head against yoongi’s as you continue looking at yourself in the mirror with a pitiful little frown on your face, “it’s just hard to feel beautiful when i can’t fit into most of my old clothes…”

“hey, you cut that out right now.” the smile immediately drops from yoongi’s face and he frowns at you in the mirror disapprovingly, “so what if you can’t fit into the dress anymore? you’re beautiful and like, really hot and- and even after all this time i’m still super head-over-heels in love with you and you could be wearing a potato sack and i would still think you were the most beautiful woman to ever walk the planet and- and i love y-”

“alright, you drunk, i get it.” you giggle lightly, reaching up to pat the side of yoongi’s warm face, “i love you more.”

“good.” yoongi smiles contently when it seems like you’ve cheered up a little from his (very good and extremely persuasive, in his opinion) pep talk, “love you most.” he murmurs, turning to press a kiss to your palm

“mhm. you reek of wine, by the way-” you wrinkle your nose playfully, letting yoongi sway you back and forth gently before reaching down to pat at his hand, “i think we should get you into the shower and then into bed.”

“i think we should get we into the shower and then into bed.” yoongi corrects you, pausing for a second to think over his words, “yeah. that makes sense.”

…,..,we should get we into the shower and then into bed…..,,.

that totally makes sense

you know what he means

“i’m only joining you so that you don’t pass out halfway through and end up falling asleep against the wall like you did last time.” you remind him, though it’s obvious he’s hardly paying attention to what you’re saying because he’s too busy nipping at the side of your neck

“mm. hey, you know what the best part is about the zipper not going all the way up?” yoongi grins, one of his arms sliding back from your waist so he can reach for the zipper, “it makes it much easier for me to get you out of this dress.”

🎙️help me help you make your wishes come true (send me a request!)

✨why don’t you explore the rest of the library while you’re here? (full fics!)

💫or perhaps you want something shorter to read? (drabbles!)

🌟or something even shorter? (teeny tidbits!)

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hoonhrt · 4 years ago

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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.

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diavolosthots · 4 years ago

Note

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?

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me scenarios #belphegor obey me #belphegor avatar of sloth #belphegor x mc #obey me belphie #belphegor x reader #shall we date belphegor #obey me belphegor x reader

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wtf-yoongi · 4 years ago

Text

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

#jeon jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook imagine #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x oc #bts imagines #bts fluff #jungkook x you

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chudleycanonficfest · 3 years ago

Text

I can't imagine my life without you

Day 13, Story #1 is by @cheesyficwriter

Title: I can’t imagine my life without you

Author: cheesyficwriter

Pairing: Ron/Hermione

Prompt: Song fic (lyric prompt), “Imagine” by Ben Platt

Rating: T

Trigger Warnings: Mentions of postpartum depression

I can’t imagine my life without you

It’s a day like no other, leaving Hermione wishing it could be over.

The transition back to work at the Ministry full-time after giving birth to little Rosie presents more challenges than anticipated. Each day, she chips a fraction away at her massive to-do list, endless amounts of paperwork and research for upcoming trials, leaving her only mildly satisfied with what she’s accomplished.

In reality, Hermione is aware that it’s in her nature to obsess over all aspects of her work that could go wrong. She always prides herself on her professionalism and now struggles with maintaining the work-life balance necessary for a new mum.

Most days, she arrives at the Ministry too tired to think straight. The hours are long, and as someone running on frequent nights with minimal sleep, it’s difficult for Hermione to be as productive as she used to be in the department.

Rosie is a fussy baby, and the hours not spent at work are spent fighting for ways to keep her calm — holding her, rocking, changing her nappy, feeding, entertaining. It’s unnatural for Hermione to feel like she has no clue what she’s doing, and that realization is frightening for a first-time parent.

Ron is a doting father, who seems to be having a much simpler time adjusting to the new addition to the family. He approaches parenting with natural ease. As soon as Ron picks Rosie up, she stops crying. If Ron walks into the room, a smile lights up their daughter’s face. He brings joy into her world, leaving Hermione with an overwhelming feeling of uncertainty if she is cut out for her new role as a mother.

Although Hermione tries to throw herself back into work to escape her struggles in her home life, the exhaustion takes a toll on her, resulting in far more emotional outbursts than deemed appropriate at work.

It isn’t easy to remain patient when challenges seem insurmountable, goals unattainable, and negative thoughts creep in to seep the joy out of her day.

As Hermione walks through the floo network to head home for the evening, she mentally prepares herself for the madness that she is certain she will walk into, if every other evening that same week is any indication.

For the first time in weeks, Hermione doesn’t arrive home to a crying baby. In fact, the stunning silence brings a wave of panic, prompting Hermione to withdraw her wand and call out,

“Ron?“

Soft, melodic music floats through the room, and Hermione begins walking towards the source as she listens for the lyrics.

Your eyes give life a new meaning

It’s like I found the North Lights

I never knew what I needed

Until I felt your hand holding mine

The sight Hermione uncovers has her at a standstill in the doorway of the kitchen.

There is a self-stirring saucepan on the stove and several knives chopping potatoes. The sink overflows with bubbles, piles of dirty dishes sticking out from underneath the suds.

Ron is there in the center of the room, cradling Rosie in his arms. He has a flannel thrown over his shoulder and a dummy in his hand as he bounces their cooing daughter.

A flat disc spirals on the gramophone in the corner of the room, the sound coming from it reverberating off the walls.

Yeah, you say I’m your hero

But you are the one that saved me

If I ever lost you

I’d fall to my knees

Hermione leans against the door frame, her heart swelling with great love for her little family. She watches as Ron twirls around the room with a squealing Rose, and he’s dancing with a rhythm that she didn’t know he possessed.

Covering her mouth with one hand, Hermione stifles a giggle, thinking back to a younger Ron and his clunky two left feet when they danced together at Bill and Fleur’s wedding. He was so nervous then — they both were — and she marvels at how far they’ve come.

Dancing is about letting go and being free. When nothing else works — as Hermione suspects is the case with Rosie, who has quite the set of lungs on her — turning on music seems to do the trick.

I can’t imagine my life without you

I can’t imagine one night without you

Seeing her family in the kitchen does wonders to lift Hermione’s mood, and it’s as if all of the stress and negativity just melt away. All she can see is her husband and daughter, and Hermione becomes conscious of the heart beating inside her chest in time with the steady rhythm of the music.

She’s torn between laughing, and crying, and bouncing along, and crying some more. Sometimes the best surprises can change the entire tone of a single day from the simplest of tasks.

In the Granger-Weasley household, dancing is their reset button.

If something happened, don’t know what I’d do

I can’t imagine, I can’t imagine my life without you

Ron has his back towards Hermione, slowly rocking Rosie from side to side with one hand while flourishing his wand towards the plates to start setting the supper table for three.

“What d'ya say, Rosie?” Ron murmurs before plopping a kiss on his daughter’s cheek. “Shall we tell your mum to stop gawking at us and come join us?”

Your eyes give life a new meaning

It’s like I found the North Lights

Oh, I never knew what I needed

Until I felt your hand holding mine

Hermione gasps as Ron pivots around, meeting her gaze with a lazy grin and a wink.

Rosie squirms in Ron’s arms, and she’s reaching towards her mother with glee.

With a shaky breath, Hermione walks forward to take hold of her daughter, who rests her little head on Hermione’s shoulder.

“She’s missed her mummy today,” Ron comments as he leans over Rose’s head of ginger hair to press a soft kiss to Hermione’s temple.

“Mmm.” Hermione’s eyelids droop to a close. “Is she the only one?“

“Not a chance, Granger.” Ron brushes a hand down her cheek, making her eyelids flutter open. He’s studying her like he has a window into her soul, and it’s as if all of the emotions she’s felt throughout the day are now on full display for him to see.

Ron always does have the impeccable ability to get her, particularly when she’s stressed beyond belief.

“Bad day, love?"

"Better now,” Hermione replies, burying her nose into the small patch of curls on Rose’s head, inhaling the sweet scent of fresh strawberries and warm milk. A smell that is so wonderfully baby.

Her baby.

Yeah, you say I’m your hero

But you are the one that saved me

If I ever lost you

I’d fall to my knees

When Hermione first arrived back at their cottage for the evening, all she wanted to do was fall underneath the covers and wallow. It could’ve been easy for her to fall into a looping pattern of self-pity.

Seeing her family provides a sense of calm in the natural ebb and flow of life. However big or small, bad days are only temporary.

Now, standing with the two most important people in her life, she’s filled with a sense of gratitude for their constant presence. Thanks to them, she knows what it means to be happy and to see the beauty in tough moments.

I can’t imagine my life without you

I can’t imagine one night without you

If something happened, don’t know what I’d do

I can’t imagine, I can’t imagine my life without you

“It’s okay, love.” Ron cradles her cheek with one hand, a gesture that he knows always calms her. “It’s okay to let it all go.”

He rests his forehead to hers, and they slowly start to sway together along to the gentle rhythm of the song playing in the background. Rose squeals from the space between her parents’ bodies, reminding them of her presence. Both Ron and Hermione chuckle, planting matching kisses on both sides of their daughter’s cheeks.

A wide grin spreads across Hermione’s face, and a familiar set of words filter into her thoughts: Happiness can be found in the darkest of times, if one only remembers to turn on the light. Fond memories flashing through her mind of Professor Dumbledore — long white beard, spectacles, and all.

It’s easy to lose sight of what’s most important when drowning in negativity. Dancing provides an opportunity for her to slow her thoughts down and root herself in the present.

Her family is the source of light in her darkest times.

I can’t imagine my life without you

#chudleycanonficfest2021 #HP fest #hp canon pairings #canon fest romantic #submission #tw: mentions of postpartum depression #romione #ron weasley x hermione granger #hermione granger x ron weasley

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yandere-sins · 4 years ago

Note

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.

220 notes · View notes

ethanesimp · 3 years ago

Text

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.

#damiano david x reader #damiano david x y/n #damiano david x you #damiano david fanfiction #maneskin x reader #maneskin fanfiction

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fandom-imagines-stories · 4 years ago

Text

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

#enzo st. john #the mikaelsons #klaus mikaelson #enzo x reader #elijah mikaelson #kol mikaelson #kol mikaelson twin #enzo st. john x reader #the originals #damon salvatore #caroline forbes #rebekah mikaelson #the vampire diaries

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fanmoose12 · 4 years ago

Text

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.

#not me ignoring all of my wips to write another barely comprehensible oneshot #ghost hange though!#we need more ghost hange lmao #levihan #levihan fanfiction

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