#imagine not having Spotify

[beebopurr]

I was around when ppl were posting fanart of Raph in cute outfits/drawing Raph with princess Peach I just wasn't posting anything yet and I just got reminded of it so,,, Raph in silly outfit. Casey is here too they're team Cherry Bomb

[yesihaveaobsession]

What Could Go Right

Alastor x female reader

Summary: Alastor visits the sweet and innocent reader, intending to ask for her soul despite his promise not to. When she offers it willingly out of love, Alastor, moved by her sincerity, decides not to take her soul, realizing her love has given him something far more valuable.

A/N- I'M BACKKKKK!! Sorry I was gone for so long I was out of state helping family but anyways ENJOY!

Song inspiration kind of:

Alastor had always found your innocence intriguing, a spark of contrast to the darkness that engulfed the streets of Hell. You were like a pure, delicate flower blooming among a field of thorns. Every time he saw you, he couldn’t help but be drawn to it.

You had been friends for a while, and while it was clear you had feelings for him, his feelings were less obvious. His light-hearted laugh, playful banter, and genuine smile always made your day a bit brighter.

But today was different.

You were relaxing in your cozy house on the outskirts of Pentagram City, humming to yourself as you tidied up. It wasn’t a mess, but it wasn’t perfect either. Everything about you was refreshingly simple, untouched by the harsh realities of Hell.

A knock on the door startled you, causing you to drop the dish you were drying. Your heart skipped a beat as you heard a familiar static sound. You quickly wiped your hands on your apron and opened the door, finding Alastor standing there, his ever-present grin lighting up his face as he looked down at you.

"Alastor!" you exclaimed, surprised. "I didn’t know you were coming!" Before you could warn him about the mess, he stepped inside, his eyes scanning your home with quiet appreciation.

"Ah, don’t worry about it, my dear," he said smoothly, his gaze locking with yours. "I thought I’d drop by for a visit." There was something in his tone you couldn’t quite place. Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment as you nervously glanced around.

"I—I didn’t have time to clean up," you stammered. "If I’d known, I would’ve—" He interrupted with a wave of his hand. "No need. Your home is as charming as you are."

His compliment made your heart flutter. Despite your feelings for him and knowing what he was capable of, there was something magnetic about him that you couldn’t resist. Every time he looked at you, your world seemed to stand still.

But today, there was an edge to his smile, a shadow in his eyes that unsettled you. Alastor approached you slowly, his red eyes still locked onto yours. Your heart raced.

"My dear," he began, his voice silky and low, "there’s something I need to ask of you."

Your heart pounded as you asked, "What is it, Alastor?"

He hesitated, his grin faltering briefly before it returned with full force. "I’ve come to ask for your soul."

The words hung in the air, cold and heavy. You stared at him, shock and betrayal overwhelming you. It felt like the ground had been swept from under you, and you struggled to breathe.

"You promised," you whispered, voice trembling. "You swore you’d never ask." The pain in your voice cut through him. He had always known you had feelings for him, maybe even more than you should, and seeing your smile fade was something he hadn’t anticipated.

"I did," he admitted, his tone softer now, almost regretful. "But your innocence, your purity—it’s intoxicating. I couldn’t stay away, and I couldn’t resist any longer."

Tears welled in your eyes. You had trusted him, and now betrayal and heartbreak swirled within you. "Were you just using me? Was it all just to get my soul?"

Alastor’s smile faltered again, more than ever before. This was the first time he seemed vulnerable. "I never intended to hurt you," he murmured, reaching out as if to comfort you but hesitating, his hand stopping inches away from your cheek. You took a step back, heart aching. "I thought you… I thought maybe…"

He didn’t need to finish. The thought that he had destroyed something so pure and beautiful filled him with an unfamiliar sense of regret. For the first time in a long time, Alastor didn’t know what to do. He was used to getting what he wanted, but now, seeing you like this, he wondered if it was worth it. Your innocence, your love for him—it was real, and in trying to take it, he realized he might have lost something truly good.

"I… I’ll go," he finally said, his voice barely a whisper, turning to leave. But before he could step out, you grabbed his arm. "Wait," you said, your voice shaky. "Please… don’t go. I… I need to think."

He paused, looking back at you with a glimmer of hope in his eyes. Maybe, just maybe, all wasn’t lost.

As Alastor stood in the doorway, his usually confident posture now unsure, you took a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart. "Alastor… why now? Why ask for my soul after all this time?"

He sighed, running a hand through his hair—a small, human gesture that made him seem less like the Radio Demon and more like the man he used to be. "Because I’ve grown… fond of you," he admitted slowly. "More fond than I ever expected to be."

His confession shocked you. You had hoped his feelings were deeper, but hearing it made your heart twist with a mix of joy and sorrow. "Then why ask for my soul?" you whispered, tears threatening to spill. "If you care about me, why would you do this?"

Alastor looked down, struggling to find the right words. "Because that’s what I do," he said, his voice hardening slightly. "I’ve taken countless souls, each with a story, with dreams, with lives they’ve built. But yours… yours is different. It’s pure, untainted by the darkness around us. It’s… precious."

He stepped closer, gently cupping your cheek with one hand. "And that’s why I hesitated. That’s why I promised I wouldn’t ask. But the more time I spent with you, the more I found myself wanting… needing it. It’s as if by taking your soul, I could keep a part of you with me, forever."

You trembled under his touch, torn between affection and betrayal. "But you already have me," you said, your voice barely audible. "You didn’t need my soul to keep me close. I liked you, Alastor. I still do… but now I don’t know what to think."

He frowned, guilt creeping into his sharp features. "I never wanted to hurt you," he repeated, his tone laced with regret. "But I can’t change who I am. I’m a demon, and this is what demons do."

You closed your eyes, feeling the weight of his words. Alastor was a demon, with all the darkness that entailed. But beneath that, there was something more that had drawn you to him. A connection that you couldn’t ignore, no matter how much it hurt.

After a moment, you opened your eyes and met his gaze, your heart pounding. "Then take it," you said, voice firm despite your fear. "If that’s what you need, take my soul. But know this, Alastor—I gave it to you long before you ever asked. Because I loved you."

The word hung between you, thick and heavy. Alastor’s eyes widened, and for a moment, you saw a flicker of something raw and real. It was a crack in the facade he’d built around himself, revealing the man who had fallen for you despite everything.

Then, just as quickly, his mask slipped back into place. His grin returned, though it didn’t reach his eyes. "You don’t know what you’re offering, my dear," he said, voice smooth but strained. "Once I take your soul, there’s no going back. You’ll be bound to me in every sense of the word."

You nodded, your decision made. "I know. But I trust you, Alastor. I believe there’s still good in you somewhere beneath all that darkness. And if giving you my soul is what it takes to keep you close, then… then I’m willing to do it."

He stared at you for a long moment, weighing the gravity of your words. Slowly, he pulled his hand away from your cheek, his expression unreadable. "You’re a remarkable woman," he finally said, voice low. "Too good for a place like this… and too good for someone like me."

"I won’t take your soul," he whispered, thick with emotion. "Not now. Not ever. Because I care too much about you to destroy what makes you… you."

Your breath hitched, stunned. "But—"

"No," he interrupted gently. "This is my choice, and it’s final. You’ve given me something far more valuable than your soul. You’ve given me a reason to remember what it feels like to care."

With that, he turned and walked out the door, leaving you in stunned silence. The house felt emptier, the warmth that had filled it now tinged with bittersweet sadness. Tears slipped down your cheeks. Alastor had come for your soul, but in the end, he had left with something far more important—your love.

[scarymonsters-andsupercreeps]

[bambidixon]

this house is sick so are we

[xxsinisterxx]

[togament]

𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐣𝐨 𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞. 𝐢𝐢 ·˚𓆉 ༘₊·

𑁍ࠬܓ

[thermodynamic-comedian]

jonah magnus is a massive britney spears fan and if martin hadn't distracted him during the unknowing he would've been up in his office, watching everything go down, listening to circus.

[kelin-is-writing]

Okay so… We just got Cyberpunk!Dabi, NOW HEAR ME OUT—

[scificrows]

The feed ID doesn’t need to say anything other than what everyone else’s says, just name, gender, and…” She trailed off. She was looking at me and I was looking at her. - Martha Wells, Fugitive Telemetry (The Murderbot art I used is the official cover art from the French edition of ASR)

[goosekid]

I DIDNT KNOW THAT LECTURN/FULL CAULDRON WAS BASED OFF A CAKE SONG

[deadboyfriendd]

Captain Seeks Mate

This is so stupid. 

At four cents a word, Early Bird had taken Steve Harrington for all he was worth. 

“Captain seeks mate– must be into pina coladas and getting caught in the rain. Mid-to-late 20s, witty and funny. Tall, dark, & handsome. Write to me and escape. Box D183.” 

He couldn’t believe himself, yet, here it was, nestled between Handyman Wanted and 1978 Plymouth Volare. The product of his own desperation, printed in Times New Roman– staring him in the face for this Sunday’s very own Early Bird edition. He wondered where it had all gone wrong, wondered where he went from Steve Harrington, local heartthrob, to an ad in the personal column of the absolute rag sheet that The Early Bird had always been. 

He wanted to blame Scoops Ahoy, those stupid little shorts and sailor hat. He wanted to blame Nancy Wheeler, who made him out to be an absolute idiot– No, he shook his head, you did that to yourself. 

And then he thought about you, golden under the blistering sun of Phoenix, Arizona. Arizona State University wreaked havoc on this life and he left with a minor in possession, 36 C-average credits in Business Administration, and a heart kicked directly in the ass. He wanted to blame you, he wanted to blame his father for sending him there– his own alma mater, he wanted to blame W. P. Carey himself, but even Steve wasn’t stupid enough to try to push this on someone else. 

Stupid, but not that stupid. 

It had been three years, and Steve had found himself settling into the comforts of blissful, beautiful stagnation. His apartment was nice– far nicer than his current job would allow him, thanks, Robin. 

It wasn’t like he frequented this place often. His home was adrift, on board The Lady May. It was an inherent truth that Steve belonged on a boat, preferably in the absence of a shirt– and this job had been the calling of a lifetime. Where Steve had struggled in the areas of statistics and business analytics, he learned the laws of the sea, learned the fishing regulations and how these animals functioned. Now, Steve got to live life as slow as the rolling waves of San Diego would take him. For that, he was thankful. 

“You’re seriously advertising yourself in the paper now?” Robin asked him, her eyes peering over the top of the paper with both wonder and disgust, “Do I dare bring back the board?” 

“What?” Steve asked her, turning around from his barstool. 

“Captain seeks mate, Steven? This has you written all over it.” 

“Why are you even reading the personal column?” 

“Because I like to laugh at them.” She said to him with her brow raised. Her hand came down to gesture at those horrible, ambiguously worded advertisements, “But this? This is just sad.” 

He reached over to her, snatching the paper from her hands. He unfolded his glasses, letting them sit low against his nose, now unabashed by his need for them– his unyielding desire to see outweighing the once debilitating vanity that overtook his ability to simply wear them. Robin never pointed this out, she was just glad to see him doing something for himself for once. But this? There was no way she was letting this die. 

He read the paper with his brow furrowed, feigning confusion and nonchalance. Perhaps he could play this off, but there was nothing he was able to skirt past her. 

“Nope. Not me.” He started, face stone cold. It was an immediate sellout, but Robin was feeling generous today. She would let him have this. 

As he handed her the paper back, she gave him a sideways glance through a raised brow, wondering what had ever prompted him to be this desperate. Maybe he had finally gone crazy, all of those hours on the water finally turning him into a regular Castaway.  

+

This is the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever seen. 

Well, second most. The first had been moving to San Diego to cut your teeth on some rag sheet with the promise of being the sole graphic designer. Something new and exciting. You could do new and exciting, you tried to convince yourself of this. You had graduated summa cum laude from one of the top ten design schools in the country– you just didn’t mention that that had been Arizona State and you had also gotten a minor in underage drinking. New and exciting was your game. 

But this? This had been one of the most entertaining things you had ever seen, staring you right in the face. You couldn’t stop the laugh that tumbled from your lips, drawing looks from the editors perched at their beige desks like the world's most modern gargoyles. Had no one else seen this? 

“Captain seeks mate– must be into pina coladas and getting caught in the rain. Mid-to-late 20s, witty and funny. Tall, dark, & handsome. Write to me and escape. Box D183.” 

It had been three years since Steve had disappeared without a trace, your golden boy under the glowing sun of your homeland. He was the greatest gem the Midwest had to offer, a diamond in the rough. Gold-skinned and eager, with a laugh like sunshine and a touch like Midas, gone back home with little to no warning. Your heart had been shattered in the process, manifesting itself in a nose to the grindstone and an early release of a BS in graphic design. The sun stung too much in his absence. You’d needed something frigid. 

Or maybe you’d been frigid enough. 

You rolled your shoulders at your desk, the cramping in your neck signaling the end of the work day and your ticket out of here– your home the promised land of naproxen and that waning bottle of Don Julio 70, a gem you’d grown to love an appreciate with all of your newfound adult money. 

You’d drained the last of your savings on a (most-likely overpriced) two bedroom a block away from the ragged coastlines of La Jolla Cove, where, every morning, you would watch the run rise along the tide pools where you’d tote your lukewarm mug of coconut cold brew, and watch the sun set over a rocky shore. It was a slow life, and you’d liked it that way. 

But tonight, as you watched the boats bob back and forth in the orange glow of the marina, you couldn’t help but to feel a semblance of nagging withing you. 

Captain Seeks Mate. 

It was ridiculous. It was stupid. But maybe something ridiculous and stupid was what you needed. Something with no pressure, something that was fun. Something that wouldn’t shatter your heart into another million pieces when it would disappear. 

So here you were, stupidly folded into a stupid, ridiculous pile at your stupid counter, drafting a big dumb letter on to a piece of paper: 

 Hello tall, dark, and handsome. 

I am writing in response to your ad in the personal columns of The Early Bird from the Sunday, June 27th edition. Three years ago, my heart was broken by another tall, dark, and handsome type. I read that the ocean heals, so I traded my land legs for sea, and now I seek a captain to guide me to smoother waters. 

 I will spare the formalities. I am not into hiking or health food. I live a life of comfort and leisure. I eat when I am hungry and drink when I am thirsty. I like to live my life in good company between work days, and you seem like the company I’d like to keep.

I am particularly fond of getting caught in the rain– when it happens, that is. I hail from the desert southwest, and I thrive on sunshine and sand. I live quietly. I like to read and paint. I keep houseplants. I am nobody’s poet, but I’m into champagne. 

I want to meet you. I want to cut through all of this red tape. 

It is true, I like pina coladas, though I prefer a tequila sunrise at the best of times. The Pisces bar on Mission and El Camino De Playa conveniently has both. Meet me there at tomorrow, noon. 

Sincerely, 

Tequila Sunrise

Box 1751.

[sp4ceqtown]

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

No Cuddles? - Pablo Gavi

Gavi hadn't been paying attention to you at all, ever since he came home after practice, he took a shower and immediately started playing on his PS5 with Pedri and Ferran.

You were currently sitting on the bed, scrolling on random apps to cure your boredom. After a few minutes, you decided to go check on Gavi.

Getting up from your bed, down the hall was Gavi's gaming room, you could hear screams coming from the room.

Opening the door, Gavi turned his head, immediately smiling when he saw you standing at the door way.

"Ven aquí, hermosa" (Come here, beautiful) He said, patting his lap. You immediately obeyed, sitting on his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck.

After a few minutes, you started to feel really tired, you put your head on Gavi's neck and fell asleep.

Gavi looked at you to see you sleeping peacefully, your chest rising up and down every time you took a breath.

"Chicos, me tengo que ir, ¡nos vemos mañana!" (Guys, i have to go, see you tomorrow!) Gavi said, speaking into the mic that his headphones had.

"Porque tan temprano hombre" (Why so early, man) Pedri could be heard, clearly annoyed over the fact that Gavi was leaving the game so early.

"Tengo que cuidar a mi bebe" (I got to take care of my baby) Gavi said, confidently but also knowing that Pedri and Ferran where gonna tell the whole team about it.

"Muy bien hombre, ve a divertirte" (Alright man, go have some fun) Ferran said, even tho Gavi couldn't see him, he knew that Ferran was smirking while saying that.

"Adiós!" (Bye!) Gavi said, hoping this conversation was gonna end soon so he could finally leave and cuddle you in your comfortable bed.

"Adios, hermano" (Bye, brother) Pedri and Ferran said. Just as Gavi was about to leave, happy that they finally let him go..

"Usa protección" (Use protection) Ferran screamed at the mic, Gavi laughed at how stupid the boys were being.

Leaving the game, Gavi wrapped your legs around his waist.

Putting you carefully on the bed, Gavi went to change his close into some comfortable pajamas. After he changed, he came in the bed, wrapping his arms around you, holding you tightly.

"Buenas noches, princesa" (Goodnight, princess) Gavi whispered in your ear, giving you a kiss on the forehead before falling asleep.

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

Author's Note :

this turned more into a Gavi x Pedri x Ferran, i promise this is a Gavi x Reader, lol! Please send me some requests, im out of ideas.. not really that happy with it but i hope you guys enjoy it<3

- Megi.

[yesihaveaobsession]

I Hate You

Alastor x ex wife ! reader

Summary: We all know what Alastor did when he was alive and one time he cheated on you, well you meet your ex-husband in Hell.

Warning: mention of Al killing and cheating and language.

A/N- I know he's ace but shush, THIS WAS SO FUN TO WRITE

You and he were married back on Earth. He would often leave in the middle of the night, citing work. You believed him. However, one night, you discovered that your daring husband had cheated on you with a girl from a jazz club. This was the same daring husband who had assured you on your wedding night that he would never cheat.

Now, here you were in hell, and you saw him. Your instincts urged you to walk the other way, and that's what you did. Alastor saw you and followed. You found yourself speed walking. His tall legs made it easier for him to catch up, and he grabbed your wrist, his large claw covering your delicate hand.

"Let me go," you said, fighting him slightly. But he didn't. The deer demon pulled you and turned you towards him. Your ex-husband still loomed over you as you looked up into his red eyes. He leaned down until your faces were close.

"You lied," you whispered. Alastor just looked at you. "You said on our wedding night that you would never cheat on me, and on top of that, you lied to me about where you went every night." He remained silent.

"Asshole," you said, hurt evident. You managed to turn away and escape from his grasp, walking away again.

"Wait..."

"Fuck you," you said, not even stopping to look at him. You had thought he was the man of your dreams. After all, you two were high school sweethearts, and this is how he treated you?

"Just hear me out," he said, still with his radio filter and a smile he didn't want right now. He wanted to frown, but he couldn't. "I married a serial killer." You stopped in your tracks and turned to face him. Those words stabbed him right in the chest; they stung.

"I can't change the past," he sighed. You shook your head. "And you cheated on me," your voice filled with venom and hurt.

"If I could go back, I would," he said. Did he regret all the things he did? You didn't believe him and kept walking. Alastor grabbed your arm again.

"Alastor, I swear to—" you began, but he cut you off, pulling you closer. You looked at him, and he leaned in closer until your faces were just inches apart.

"I hate you," you said, breaking the silence.

"I know," is all the deer demon said. Your eyes searched his, and you saw something, maybe nobody else could, but you could.

"Were you planning on hurting me when we were alive?" you inquired. He stayed silent, which stabbed you in the back. "Al?" you said.

"Yes, dear?"

"You were?"

He hesitated, but eventually nodded.

"You would hurt your dear wife?" you choked, stepping backward, but he only took another step toward you, causing you to crane your head back to look at him.

"I was going to," he said with a sigh.

"Why? What did I do?" Tears welled in your eyes. He knew he broke you.

"No," he tried to wipe your tears. "I was the problem," he said.

"I tried to help you."

"You did, and I love you for it, but I never deserved you," he said, trying to lift your chin. You looked into his red eyes, then at his lips. Alastor found himself leaning in closer, placing his claws firmly on your hips. You paused.

"Are you still killing people?" you asked.

The Radio Demon nodded. "For a good cause."

"How so?" you asked, genuinely confused.

"Rehabilitation."

"You're helping Charlie?"

Alastor nodded, and you found yourself backed up and pinned against the side of a building. He leaned in so your bodies were touching. You looked at his lips. Alastor leaned in and placed his lips on yours, and you kissed back.

He looked into your eyes. "Please, just one more moment with me."

"What do you mean, Al?"

"Just one more kiss, then I'll let you go," he said, his breath fanning against your face.

"No, I don't want you to let me go," you whispered.

"You're mine, aren't you?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Good." He pulled you closer, and you two kissed again.

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

SONG I WAS LISTENING TO:

[jia127zen]

Come find out

doyoung x fem!reader

genre: fwb, making out, suggestive, doyoung is tipsy🌚

You and Doyoung are a mess—fighting, touching, leaving, then doing it all over again. Every time you try to ignore him, the universe shoves him right back in your way. Same party, same room, same air, like it’s laughing at you both.

Just like now, at Jungwoo's party.

The party was loud, a mix of bass-heavy music and drunken laughter, but all you could hear was Doyoung’s sharp tongue as he sat beside you on the couch, nursing his third—maybe fourth—drink.

"You're so annoying," he muttered, swirling the amber liquid in his glass before looking at you through hooded eyes. "Why are you even here?"

You scoffed, taking a slow sip of your own drink. "Jungwoo invited me, dumbass. Same reason as you."

Doyoung and you were not friends. If anything, you were rivals—constantly arguing over the dumbest things, constantly nitpicking each other, and yet, somehow always ending up in the same place at the same time. It was exhausting.

"God, I don’t get why everyone likes you so much," he sighed, slumping back into the couch. His shirt was slightly unbuttoned, exposing the curve of his collarbone. You hated that you noticed.

"And I don’t get why they think you’re so polite," you shot back, swirling the ice in your glass. "You’re actually kind of a dick." Doyoung chuckled—low, lazy, a little tipsy. "And yet, you never leave when I’m around."

Your breath hitched. It was true. No matter how much you bickered, there was always this… tension. A thick, electric pull neither of you wanted to acknowledge. But tonight, something about the way he was looking at you—half-lidded gaze, flushed cheeks, tongue flicking over his bottom lip—made the air feel too charged.

"Doyoung, you’re drunk," you muttered, shifting away slightly. "And you’re staring," he countered, tilting his head. "You know,” he said slightly leaning forward “if you hate me so much, why are you always looking at me like that?"

Your pulse spiked. "I’m not."

"You are," he murmured, setting his glass down before leaning in, close enough for you to catch the faint scent of his cologne. "You always do." Your fingers curled around your drink, grip tightening. You hated how smug he sounded. How much you wanted to wipe that smirk off his face.

“Fuck you,” you breathed. Doyoung’s smirk deepened, his voice dropping to a near whisper.

"Then do it."

Something inside you snapped.

Your hands fisted in the collar of his shirt, yanking him forward, and Doyoung barely had time to smirk before your lips crashed against his. He groaned—deep, almost desperate—as his hands found your waist, pulling you flush against him.

His fingers dug into your hips as he kissed you back with just as much force, his tongue sweeping into your mouth, claiming every inch of you without hesitation. He tasted like whiskey and something inherently him—heady, intoxicating, impossible to resist.

His hands slipped under your top, fingers pressing into your bare skin as you straddled his lap, knees digging into the couch on either side of him. You could feel him smirking against your lips, that stupid, cocky smirk that always pissed you off.

So you bit down on his bottom lip, tugging slightly. Doyoung let out a sharp breath, his grip on you tightening. "You're such a brat." "And you talk too much," you murmured, before pulling him into another kiss—hotter, messier, all tongue and teeth.

His hands roamed over your thighs, fingertips teasing the hem of your skirt as he deepened the kiss, swallowing the small gasp you let out when he shifted beneath you.

Fuck. This was a mistake. A bad, bad mistake.

But the way Doyoung groaned when your nails raked down his chest? The way his hands gripped your hips, rolling you against him like he needed you closer?

Yeah—this was definitely happening.

♡

[aliciax3]

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

In Dreams

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Joe Liebgott x Female Reader

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

A/N: Technically female reader, due to mentions of a dress and nightown, but otherwise not very specific. And not much to warn about. It's just a simple one-shot inspired by a song.

Thanks in advance for reading 💕 I'm still new to this.

You were on a balcony at the Grand Hotel overlooking Lake Zell, surrounded by mountains, the full moon, and twinkling stars. Your long hair and dress were flowing in the breeze as Joseph Liebgott held you in his arms, guiding your steps as you danced. Everything around you was hazy as you focused on nothing but Joe's face and the music playing:

"If I was your lover, I’d make it so you wouldn’t have to try. Break every chain that binds you, if you’d let me inside. I’m not so easy; you know I’ve never really been. But what I can give you, is as real as the world that we’re in.

Let me guide your steps, and I’ll move you in time. We’ll dance the night away. If you were my song, then I’d melt you with words. But you’re not, but you’re not.

My wandering mind will lead me to a place where we only meet in dreams. And we both surrender ourselves. Then I wake up, and I go back to sleep.

Let me guide your steps, and I’ll move you in time. We’ll dance the night away. If you were my song, then I’d melt you with words. But you’re not, but you’re not.

Out of my mind I will lose myself, and you will remember.

Let me guide your steps, and I’ll move you in time. We’ll dance the night away. If you were my song, then I’d melt you with words. But you’re not, but you’re not..."

As the song ended, Joe cupped your face with his hands. He kissed your lips, and you felt butterflies in your stomach. You opened your eyes, expecting to see his face, but he wasn't there. It was all a dream.

The war was over; you were in your own bed, alone in your apartment in San Francisco. You knew Joe lived down the street, but you had only seen him once since the war ended, and it was only because you ran into him by chance. You had always fancied him, and you thought he fancied you, but when he didn't seem thrilled to run into you that day, you didn't try to stay in touch.

You laid in your bed, staring up at the ceiling, trying to hold onto the dream and the feelings it produced. You missed Joe the most out of everyone, and he was just a stone's throw away. When it all got too depressing, you sighed and looked at the clock; midnight. You decided to get up for a glass of water. As you sat on the couch, you wracked your brain for ways to see Liebgott again. Maybe you could call the cab company he works for and request a cab ride... As you were wondering how desperate that would look, a knock on the door startled you.

Who could that be at this hour?

You slowly walked to the door, and checked the peep hole. It was Joe...

You opened the door, "Joe? What are you doing here?"

"That's not a very welcoming greeting," he said as he smiled and leaned up against the door frame.

"Sorry... it's just a surprise, that's all. It's late..."

"Or early," he said, shrugging. "Now, are you going to invite me in, or let me stand here and become known as the resident weirdo that stands in doorways late at night?" He smirked.

"You said it was early," you said matter of factly.

Joe chuckled and bit his bottom lip as he looked you up and down, seemingly inspecting your silk nightown.

"Come in," you said as you finally moved out of the way. "Can I get you anything?"

"No I'm okay, thanks," Joe said as he looked around your apartment.

"So why are you here, Joe?" You motioned to the couch for him to sit down.

"Well..." he took a seat. And before you could sit down yourself he continued, "I had a dream about you."

You stared at him, and slowly lowered yourself onto the couch next to him. You furrowed your brows. "That's strange... I had one about you, too."

"Oh you did, did you?" He smirked.

"Not that kind of dream," you laughed.

"Well, mine was." He winked.

You tried to hold back a smile but couldn't. "So, you're just here to see if I'm willing to make your dream a reality?"

He chuckled, "Well, not exactly. But I wouldn't be opposed, either."

You smiled as you playfully rolled your eyes. "Of course you wouldn't be."

His face turned more serious as he continued, "but honestly, I was surprised to have a good dream at all. You see, ever since the war ended I've pretty much just been having nightmares."

"Well that's understandable, Joe..."

"Yeah, maybe... but until now, I haven't mentioned it to anyone. And it's the reason I was a bit off when I saw you last; seeing you just brought everything rushing back. But I didn't want that to be the last time we saw each other, so I felt like I needed to come see you." He was looking down at his hands.

The curiosity in you wanted to ask why he felt the need to come at almost 1 AM, but you weren't about to ruin it so instead you placed your hand on his, and said "Well, I'm happy you're here." He finally looked up at you, and smiled.

"So, what was your dream about?" He asked as he flipped his hand over, and laced his fingers with yours.

"Oh," you chuckled. "We were just dancing..."

"Dancing, huh?" He smirked.

"Yeah...on a balcony, overlooking Lake Zell." You hesitated, "And we kissed, but then I woke up." You were looking down at your hands intertwined.

He took his other hand and lifted your chin so that you were looking at him. After a moment of gazing into your eyes, he cupped your cheek and kissed your lips softly. Your stomach fluttered the same way it did in your dream.

Your foreheads were resting against each other, your noses touching. You felt a desperate need to kiss him again, and told yourself not to waste this surprise visit, so you climbed on top of him and straddled his lap. With your hands on the back of his head, you pressed his lips to yours. After pulling away, and running your hands through his hair, you said, "Now tell me about your dream." You smiled and winked.

He laughed and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you in closer. "I think it's easier if I show you," he said onto your lips.

Your giggling reassured him that you were ok with that.

He began kissing you passionately and the next thing you knew, your bare skin was touching, and your bodies were intertwined. You spent the rest of the night, or the rest of the morning according to Joe, talking and making love. And you both agreed that for the first time since after the war, you both finally felt home; and not just in your dreams.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

My other Joe Liebgott x Female Reader fics:

☆ "Go on, leave me breathless."

☆ "A hundred reasons, and counting still."

☆ "I never could forget you."

[snathark]

is listening to psychedelic rock and procrastinating bedtime

the picture fully appeared out of the black angels “entrance song”