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covetyou · 1 month

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the howler monkey

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pairing: Dieter Bravo & gn!reader rating: Mature (18+ only!) warnings: no smut but some nudity, implied drug use/addiction, little bit silly, mildly angsty, performance anxiety, screaming, Dieter Bravo's soft cock. basically mild hurt/comfort/fluff with my usual bit of silliness. word count: 2.8k summary: You got him here, he was safely tucked away upstairs and everything was going, mostly, according to plan. So, who the fuck is screaming?

A/N: For the Dieter Bravo Brain Rot Club March Server Challenge - you're unhinged and I love you all. Dieter would be so, so proud of us. Circus mention in honour of Clown!Dieter.

TROPE: Only one bed and forced proximity PROMPT: "You're going to get us arrested." "Oh, I've always liked the idea of you in handcuffs."

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On days like this, getting Dieter Bravo out of the house was more like wrangling an overtired toddler than it was dealing with a full grown man. At least, you assumed it was. You didn't have a toddler for reference, but you did have a Dieter and, sometimes, that felt worse. He stalled and delayed for so long that by the time you finally - finally - got him out of the door, it was quite literally a race to get the the airport.

The flight hadn't been much different, having to practically drag him through the terminal with head down and sunglasses on to cram him into his window seat. Truth be told, you didn't know why you were flying with him anyway, only to fly back later tonight. Still, as long as it wasn't your money on the line, what Dieter wanted, Dieter got.

But now it was done. You got him here relatively unscathed, all things considered, and Dieter had been deposited in his room, ready to get a full nights beauty sleep before the press descended and the festival opened. All that was left to do was check in with his publicist and you'd be on your way back home, where you couldn't wait to crawl into bed and have a few blissful days to yourself.

So, as is the natural way with these things, it's when you're just finishing up with his publicist in the back of the bar that it all starts. It's nothing but a few strained looks from the hotel staff to begin with.

Then the phones start ringing. Every single one.

And when the phones can't be answered quick enough, hotel guests start crowding around the lobby, whispering amongst themselves about the screaming.

The screaming.

And your blood turns cold. Because it's not. It couldn't be. He wouldn't.

The publicist pays no attention, continuing swiping through his phone and yammering away. Not your circus, not your monkeys, you try to think to yourself as the lobby just gets busier and busier.

But then the hotel manager rushes in, sickly sweet smile plastered on his face, Dieter's publicist blissfully unaware as he stares down at his phone, looking at schedules and interview times and literally anything but the chaos evolving around you.

"Excuse me? Excuse me," he's saying, wringing his hands together as he approaches the table. "You're with Mr. Bravo?"

His publicist doesn't even bother looking up, simply nodding as you stare, open mouthed, into the lobby.

"It seems we have... a bit of a problem," he whispers with wide eyes. "Mr. Bravo is uh... well, screaming. It's disturbing the other guests. I'm afraid if he doesn't stop we're going to have to ask him to leave or call the police."

Well, shit. This is your circus, and that is your monkey in particular.

You're swiping the extra key card out of his hand and making your way out of the bar and into the packed lobby as quick as you can while his publicist sits there, arguing that Dieter would never (he would), that he was quiet (he wasn't), and so it couldn't possibly be him (it absolutely could).

The elevator feels so slow, the whirl of gears and an unseen mechanism pulling you up and up, as you ascend the many floors of the hotel. Then, in a blink and with another creak the doors are about to pull themselves open, and you swear you can hear it already.

The fucking screaming.

You're running now, the elevator doors barely open before you're squeezing through them, not caring for the noise you make as you thud heavily down the hallway. What would a little extra noise matter when there's someone screaming blue murder inside one of the hotel rooms.

Tapping the card, the lock on room 819 illuminates green and you're throwing open the door, the screams having subsided for a moment, and shutting yourself inside and trying to catch your breath.

Aside from the silence, it's dark. That's the first thing you notice. The second thing you notice is Dieter Bravo is nowhere to be seen, even in the dim light creeping around the window.

"Dee... Dieter?" you whisper into the darkness, hoping beyond hope that he's not here and he hasn't been screaming for the past fifteen minutes.

A small, hoarse voice floats toward you from much further away than you'd expect him to be able to be given the size of the room, "Who is it?"

"Dieter? It's me. What the fuck is going on? Where are you?" you loud whisper into the hotel room, running your fingertips across the wall as you creep forward. From what you can tell it looks the same as when you left him here. Nothing is wrecked or overturned, and he hasn't had another sudden burst of artistic inspiration - the walls look the same as they did when you shut the door to Dieter looking forlornly out of the window to the city below.

"What do you mean?" comes the muffled voice. It's closer now, but you still can't see him. There's no lump on the bed, no one sat in the chair, and he's not lying spread eagle on the floor.

"Dieter, where the fuck are you?!"

He sighs, and you hear a slap, like the sound of a hand hitting a flat, solid surface. "Under here, numbnuts."

You take another step forward, peaking under the desk, seeing no sign of Dieter. Turning toward the bed, you try to find somewhere else to look under to find wherever Dieter has stashed himself when you see it.

Two bare legs sticking out from under the bed, the end of his soft green robe just poking out from beneath the frame.

"Dee... what is going on, why are you under there? There was screaming, they think it's coming from in here."

Dieter's silence is all you need to confirm it was indeed coming from in here, from him. Pinching your nose, you ready yourself for whatever he's going to throw at you this time.

"Why are you screaming?"

"Come under here."

"Dieter, no, it's disgusting under there, they don't clean these -"

"I'll tell you if you come under here."

"No, I know this is a nice hotel, but the floors are still filth-"

Dieter cuts you off, a loud scream ripping out of his chest and rattling around your head at a frequency that makes you feel like your skull is about to burst. It must hurt, is all you can think, his throat must be raw and his mouth dry. Panic sets in - hearing a scream like that will do that to a person, you suppose. You panic not just because it must hurt, but because if there was one thing you knew, despite Dieter Bravo's flair for dramatics, he wasn't a man to scream for no reason. And, as much as you hate to admit it, you can't help but think down to Dieter's publicist likely still sat in the bar - Dieter will be impossible to interview tomorrow if you don't stop him soon, and that's if he's even allowed to stay in the hotel much longer.

So, you do the only thing you know how to do when a metaphorical fire in the shape of Dieter Bravo threatens to burn everything down. You throw yourself over it and hope for the best.

"DEE! DIETER! OKAY, OKAY!" you shout, trying not to grimace as you get on your hands and knees to crawl under the cramped space under the bed, ignoring the grit and dust already on your palms.

"Fuck. Shit, Dieter. Ow." You're wedged under there with him now, ass sticking up in the air as you cram your upper body under the bed frame. You can see the vague shape of him under here, a Dieter shaped profile visible in front of you as he stares blankly up at the underside of the bed.

"What's wrong with you?" you ask, somewhat breathlessly, only to watch Dieter tense up at your words. Shit. You didn't mean it like that, and you certainly didn't say it like that either, but before you can take it back and apologize, he beats you to it.

"Nothing. Nothing's wrong with me," he says in a voice so much smaller and quieter now that your head is right beside his.

"Sorry. Look, I didn't - I meant, why are you screaming, Dee. They said they'd have to kick you out or call the cops. You're going to get us arrested."

"Arrested, huh?" he says thoughtfully, turning to look over at you. "I've always liked the idea of you in handcuffs."

"No, Dieter," you say, and even though you know he can't see you, you roll your eyes in the dark anyway.

Dieter's sigh is so big it picks up errant dust swirls it around under the bed. The urge to swipe at your nose is strong but you resist, knowing from the state of things and the chalky feeling of your palms that it'll only make things worse.

"I'm nervous," he finally says, and that's all you needed to hear.

His face is turned toward the underside of the bed when you crawl backwards. It takes a moment for him to notice, but as soon as he does he's whimpering and taking in a breath big enough that you know he's going to scream again. But you're not leaving, and instead you roll onto your back with an oof and slide yourself under the bed to look up into the nothing with Dieter.

You think back to other times he'd been like this. Too scared to perform, anxiety taking root, frightening him off into some dark quiet corner of a set or his house. You'd found him in his closet once, the only thing apparently capable of coaxing him out was watching you unbutton your shirt a little more because you'd gotten so hot sitting in the stifling little room with him. When he'd finally made his way out, it had been with his eyes glued to the extra patch of skin you'd uncovered and the trickle of sweat dripping down your chest.

Dark as it was, visual distractions wouldn't work this time.

"How many times do you have exactly the same thoughts, and how many times does everything turn out okay anyway? You're good at this, Dieter. You're going to be amazing tomorrow, just like you always are, and I'm not saying that to pressure you to perform, but just because you are. You're amazing."

"Yeah, right," he scoffs, slapping a hand dramatically down on the floor again with a grunt.

"I'm serious. You have a lot to be proud of."

"A lot to not be proud of too."

"Well, you know what to do about that."

"I'm not going to rehab."

"I've never told you to."

Dieter sighs again, because you were right. You had never told him to go to rehab. You never would. It didn't feel like your place to - you were only his assistant. He knows this and you think - know - that sometimes he'd like for you to just tell him to get it together and go, but you don't. "I know."

You don't know how long you both lie there in silence and darkness after that, softly exchanging breaths under the bed. You do know it's long enough for your mind to wander back down to the bar and all the people now going about their evenings. It's not lost on you that no one came in to check on him before you. That now that he'd been silent for several minutes, no one had bothered to knock on the door to see if he was okay. None of them cared, not really. You knew that and, worse of all, Dieter knew that. The people here didn't care about him unless he was being a shiny, glitzy movie star who could say and do the right things in front of the cameras.

Scuffling feet alert you to his movement as Dieter move shuffles toward you, his head colliding gently with the side of yours. You make no effort to move and neither does he, choosing instead to lean his head against yours and rest it there.

The signs are obvious then. The small weave of his head as his eyes track invisible shapes in the dark. The twitch in his fingers, the bounce of his foot. He'd been a mess all day, you can see that now, and whatever he had taken since getting here was somehow making it better and worse all at once.

"How much have you taken this time?"

His breath catches, caught doing something he said he wouldn't do, not here, not this time. But he doesn't lie, not to you. He'd stopped doing that a long time ago, and that was as much progress as you could ever hope for.

"Too much. Not enough. I don't know."

"Okay," you say, even though it isn't, not really. He should stop. You wish you could do more to stop him.

"Will you stay?" he murmurs, even though he knows you have a flight to catch. He'd paid for it when he demanded you come with him, promising you a few days off while he was stuck at the festival answering the same questions over and over again.

"You know I can't, my flight is in a couple of hours, I need to get through the traffic -"

"Please stay."

"There is nowhere for me to stay, Dieter. You don't need me here and I couldn't get a room if I tried. Everywhere nearby is booked." Assistants don't sleep with their employers, assistants don't sleep with their employers...

"I do. I do need you. I'm not asking you to stay anywhere else, I'm asking you to stay here. Stay with me," he mumbles. "I can sleep under here if I have to. Just stay." Assistants don't sleep with their fucking employers...

"You're not sleeping on the floor. And I- I can't." By this point you don't know why you can't, because maybe assistants don't sleep with their employers, but you and Dieter were always a little bit, well... y'know.

"Please."

And your resolve never was that strong where Dieter was concerned. Not really. "Fine. I'll stay. I need a shower and I need to go -"

"You can borrow some of my clothes," he says quickly. "We can shower - separately, I mean - get room service - fuck I'm starving - and then when we sleep, we can cuddle?"

You can't help but laugh, smiling up at the bed at how quickly his mood could turn around, particularly where cuddling and a good meal were concerned. Sometimes, when he was really tired, or high, or sad, or a combination of all three, he'd ask you to cuddle. You'd always settle on stroking his hair instead, watching his face as his jaw relaxed and sleep finally pulled at his features before sneaking away. Today, you had nowhere else to be so, you think, you may as well stay to cuddle.

"Yeah, Dee. We can cuddle."

You talk over room service - fancy toasted sandwiches and warm chocolate chip cookies that weren't on the menu, but Dieter had the audacity to ask for anyway. When you shower, he waits outside the door for you, restlessly stepping from foot to foot. You wait for him too, convincing him to leave the door open a little just in case, and he does so without question. A few minutes later he comes out, flushed red from the heat of the water and totally naked. You don't bat an eye.

Your skin still feels damp when you're climbing into bed, grateful to be on top of it and grit free now rather than under it. Dieter soon follows, crawling naked on all fours before tucking his legs under the sheets beside you.

You talk for a little longer, listening as Dieter sounds more and more slurred with sleep, before flicking the light off. He fidgets, shuffling closer to you until his arm wraps around your chest, resting his hand softly on your shoulder, his nose nuzzling into your neck on the pillow you now share. It's not comfortable, not for you, but the contented sounds coming from Dieter and the way his face twitches against your bare skin tells you he's holding back tears, that he needs this. You can be uncomfortable for one night, you think, just before he hooks his leg over yours, well and truly pinning you to the bed.

"Dee?"

"Yeah?"

"Your cock is on my leg."

"I know."

"Okay, well... G'night Dee."

"Night," he says straight into your ear, smacking his lips as he snuggles into your side, soft cock squished against your leg. And when, somehow, sleep ignores your discomfort and pulls you under barely a few minutes later, you swear you can feel Dieter press his lips to the bare skin of your neck.

#dieter bravo #dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo fanfiction #the bubble fanfiction #coveted fics

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stupidlittlespirit · 6 months

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First Kiss

Rating: SFW, fluff Type: Drabble Tags: first kisses, alcohol, making out, no use of pronouns for reader, reader is wearing a skirt, slight Serizawa x reader, vague mention of vomit (nothing overtly descriptive), jealousy Word count: 4363 My other works: here on tumblr and here on Ao3! Reigen gets drunk, jealous and kissed.

(This has been in my drafts since January and I figured you guys might like it :) )

Staff parties are just the worst.

Well, they're the best, but for all the wrong reasons: They’re noisy and messy, and you get an excuse to spend time with handsome men under the guise of simply being colleagues.

You're exceptionally drunk, perched beside your team in a rowdy bar as you watch them misbehave.

Serizawa is flushed a happy pink, tipsy but still managing to keep himself together. Dimple, possessing his favoured security guard for the night, is plastered against Serizawa's side. Reigen, however, is much worse for wear. He's slumped over the table as Serizawa is speaking, eyes half-lidded and likely not paying attention.

Wait. Serizawa is speaking.

"-maybe that's why? I guess I just never tried..." He’s saying, a little forlorn but soft as always.

You shake your head and shuffle up in your seat, leaning over to nudge Reigen. "What's he talking about?" You hiss, hoping you don't make it obvious.

Reigen shrugs sloppily, his shoulder bumping yours as he lurches. "Dunno."

"Dimple said Mob was talking about first kisses this morning," Says Serizawa, shifting in his seat to address you directly. He doesn’t look upset at your poor listening skills, more amused.

Clearly you weren't being subtle enough.

"Then he asked if I'd had one, and I haven't. I’d like to, though.” He shrugs. “Maybe one day.”

Now that you're caught up, you gape at Serizawa.

"So you've never been kissed?" You ask, leaning forward. "Like, at all?"

He shakes his head but doesn't look bothered at all. It's more like he's stating a fact, but it makes you feel a little bad for him.

Reigen laughs uproariously. "Never been kissed?!" He claps Serizawa on his shoulder from across the table. "That's gotta suck!"

"I guess you can relate." Dimple smirks from behind the lip of his beer bottle.

Reigen almost inhales his cocktail through his nose and you have to beat his back to stop him from choking to death.

"N-not at all!" He cries, desperately waving his hands around. "I've kissed plenty of people in my life-"

"I'll kiss you." You cut in, making Reigen choke again. “If you want one, that is.”

Serizawa turns even pinker and he looks over at you shyly. "R-right now?" He squeaks. “Here?”

"Sure." You shrug.

It feels bad knowing Serizawa has never experienced the joys of kissing someone, and you want to offer the chance in a comfortable setting.

Serizawa looks excited and adorably bashful when he nods in agreement.

You’re a little surprised he’s bold enough to take you up on the offer, but you suppose with a few drinks in him, he’s braver than he might usually be in a social setting.

Untangling yourself from your seat, you swap sides at the table to sit next to him, bumping Dimple with your hip until he acquiesces and moves to your seat.

Meanwhile, Reigen makes his grievances known.

"This is so unprofessional-" He starts, brows furrowing.

"Yeah? What do you know about being a professional?" Dimple snips back, watching you and Serizawa closely. "Let the kid learn!"

"You would say that, pervert." Reigen slurs. “And I’m always professional.”

Ignoring their bickering, you place Serizawa's hands where they need to be; one on the side of your face, and the other on your waist, and roll your shoulders back as though you’re preparing for some strenuous exercise. A first kiss is serious business and it wouldn’t be beneficial to him to fuck it up. You want Serizawa to relax, to learn that these things aren’t as scary as they might seem, so that when he does find someone he wants to try it with again, he won’t freeze up and ruin his own chances. From what you’re seen, Serizawa is pretty skilled at that.

Beet red and wide eyed, Serizawa’s gaze darts all over your face, from your own eyes to your mouth and back again. He’s evidently already overthinking this.

"A-are you sure you're okay with this?" Serizawa asks, voice cracking.

You nod feverishly.

Serizawa is very handsome and very cute, so it's hardly a chore to indulge him in the art of making out.

You lean into his palm with a warm, encouraging smile, and dip your head until your lips meet his.

Someone at the table makes a small, high pitched noise but you're not sure if it's Serizawa or one of the others.

The kiss is simple; you don't want to frighten him by adding anything too complex, yet he's eager and surprisingly natural in his movements.

Serizawa makes a content little noise and leans into you, hand tightening on your waist to pull you closer. He tastes like cheap beer and buttery edamame, a whisper of sweetness amongst the heavy alcohol.

Much to your pleasant surprise, his lips part after a moment and you gently tease him into a slightly deeper kiss.

Serizawa seems to be enjoying himself and you're happy to indulge him if he wants to try something more.

When you pull away, you drag your teeth across his lower lip gently and he smiles, hazy, chasing your mouth with his own for a moment.

Dimple lets out a low whistle from across the table and leans forward on the table, chin propped in his hands as he watches with rapt attention.

You break apart with a soft smack! and Serizawa looks over at you like you've punched him in the nose. He's dazed and his gaze is totally unfocused, but there's a little smile on his face and it’s clear that he’s quite happy with his demonstration.

"Okay?" You ask quietly, face still close to his.

Serizawa nods slowly. “Uh huh….”

You grin, squeezing his shoulder as he releases you, and you stand from your stolen seat to go back to your own.

"There you go, it isn’t that exciting, really, but now you know." You shrug.

Dimple laughs, elbowing Reigen in the ribs as he gets up.

"Seems pretty excited to me!" He smirks.

You give him a good-natured shove on the way past before you drop back down next to Reigen.

Now that your focus is back on the room at large, you notice that your boss looks like he's going through all five stages of grief simultaneously; Reigen is clutching his drink tight, gaze fixed on the table top with his jaw set tightly shut. He barely acknowledges you when you sit down again, looking like he's ready to burst at the seams.

"Are you okay?" You ask, giving him a gentle nudge with your shoulder. "If you're gonna puke, you better do it outside."

Reigen glances at you from the corner of his eye. He doesn’t look pleased at all and you feel like you might have just made a mistake.

"'M gonna go get some air." He mutters finally, sliding out of his seat.

Reigen snatches up the half-empty box of cigarettes on the table and stumbles unsteadily off his stool without another word. He doesn't even have the grace to make up an excuse before he leaves.

You watch him go, hesitant to follow him.

“What's his problem?” Dimple says, rolling his eyes. “He’s been so stuck up lately.”

It’s true; for the past week in particular, Reigen has been in a sour mood.

The first time it had been noticeable was the Monday morning you’d worn your first skirt of the summer to the office. It had been hot and stuffy, and you weren’t about to bother with cloying tights or trousers, however Reigen had taken one look at you and gone to work in the spare room until lunchtime. He’d made a few quiet comments about dressing professionally as a woman until Dimple had told him that he’d wear the same thing if Reigen didn’t stop bothering you about it. Since then, he’d done nothing but sulk and avoid you.

The general chatter amongst the three of you returns, until a few minutes of his absence turn into twenty, and eventually you realise you're going to have to go and fetch him. He’s either grouchy again or he’s passed out somewhere and aspirated on his own vomit, and neither seem like a pleasant end to an otherwise fun night.

You excuse yourself and pick your way through the throngs of suits until you reach the exit at the front of the bar.

It takes a few seconds of scanning until you spot Reigen, bathed in the flickering light of the bar’s sign. His grey suit reflects the ugly neons, marring it an odd blue-green, and he stands out against the dim street. He’s trapped behind the ropes of the smoking section nearby, halfway through his cigarette and staring off into the night sky.

Silently, you come to stand at his side.

"How long does it take to smoke?" You laugh, hoping to ease the immediate tension he gives off.

Reigen shrugs, running his tongue over his teeth.

You frown at his unusual silence, slightly concerned that he can barely even bother to dein you with a simple 'hello'.

"Have I upset you?" You ask gently.

Reigen's eyes dart to you, though he stays facing forward, and he clears his throat.

"No, I just…" He sighs around the filter of his cigarette, shaking his head. "It's nothing."

To his right, there's an old looking bench that's clearly been shoved into the corner here for the drunkest smokers to sit at. It's probably to deter people from sitting on the floor when they're wasted and making the place look untidy.

You take a seat on it and gesture for him to sit beside you, running your hands over your arms to ward off the chill of the night.

Reigen looks uncomfortable at your offer but does as he's told anyway. He keeps a distance from you and focuses on puffing out a crude smoke circle so that he doesn't have to look at you.

"Reigen, if I've done something to upset you then it's not nothing." You press him for more detail, shuffling up to sit closer.

You don't care if he doesn't want to be near you, you're starting to panic that you might have ruined a friendship that's extraordinarily important to you.

Reigen is a great boss and an even better friend. He's smart and kind, and he's the most compassionate person you've ever met. For all of his faults, he's an incredible guy.

It doesn't help that you're a little bit in love with him, of course.

No one else in the office knows. You've kept it to yourself and tried to ignore it; the affection you hold for him is inappropriate after all. He's your boss and if you were to confess, he'd only reject you on those grounds. You'd end up losing your job and your friends, and you can't stand the thought of that happening. It's better to just ignore it and admire him from afar.

At your side, Reigen sighs quietly and takes a long drag on his cigarette. He holds his breath for a moment and you can see the cogs in his mind turn as he weighs up if it's worth telling you. After a pause, he breathes out a long puff of smoke and flicks the ash from the end of it. The cherry glows red in the darkness.

"I'veneverbeenkissedeither." Reigen mumbles, ducking his head.

It comes out as a long string of words, barely understandable, and you frown.

"Huh?"

Reigen groans. His shoulders rise up around his ears and you realise that he's embarrassed about whatever he's trying to say.

"I've never been kissed either." He repeats through gritted teeth, eyes fixed on the distance.

"Oh." You breathe.

Oh.

He's not angry, he's jealous.

“But you said-”

“I lied.” He huffs. “Obviously.”

Reigen looks mortified the moment he admits it aloud, his cheeks turning pinker than they had been inside. He sucks in a sharp breath and cringes away from you, humiliated.

"I'm sorry," he cringes. "That was dumb- I shouldn't have said anything, I was just-"

"You're kidding, right?" You say, unable to keep the disbelief from your voice.

Reigen rubs the back of his neck awkwardly, hanging his head as though he's ashamed by it. "No." He mutters.

You're genuinely a bit surprised. "Oh, I just figured…."

"Figured what?" Reigen says, a little bitter. "That people would actually like me?"

The way he says it makes your heart bleed.

Reigen is quite the charmer. You had assumed he'd be very popular in terms of romantic partners. Sure, he's a little caustic at times but ultimately he's a good guy and had you been strangers, you certainly would have tried your luck with him. There's no reason that you can think of that anyone would turn him down, unless he’s the one getting in his own way.

"Reigen, don't be ridiculous." You laugh softly, leaning into his side. "Of course people like you. I like you! You're funny and sweet, and handsome and nice. Anyone would be lucky to have you."

Immediately Reigen's head shoots up and he turns to look at you, face slack with surprise.

"You think I'm handsome?" He asks, his cigarette limp and bobbing about between his lips as he speaks.

Fuck.

The drink has made you slip up. It's probably not normal to tell your boss you think he's the best thing since sliced bread and you feel a heat crawl up your throat. Now really isn't the time. You're both wasted in a public place, far from home and with other people, it's not an ideal place to confess to your boss how much you desperately want him.

"Reigen, listen," you say, attempting to laugh off the accidental admission. "You're a catch!"

You offer him a weak smile and tug on his tie gently. It's supposed to be annoying, but drunk as he is, Reigen leans into you instead.

"I am?" He says faintly.

The warmth spreads from your neck to your cheeks and you're abruptly aware of how close his face is to yours. The cigarette's smoke wafts up between you both.

"Yeah." You shrug, attempting to sound nonchalant. "Of course."

Reigen's dark eyes search yours for a moment, like he's waiting for you to say something else.

When all you do is offer him a tight smile, afraid that you've fucked up, he wrinkles his nose in annoyance.

"Oh," Reigen says petulantly, smoke streaming from his nostrils. "So sweet little Serizawa gets a demonstration but I don't?"

You struggle to keep the surprise from your expression. After his avoidance for the past week, whatever you expected him to say, it wasn’t that.

You figure he must be annoyed at missing out.

A moment of silence passes and then you tilt your head. "Do you.... Want a demonstration?" You ask curiously.

Reigen glances away for a second, blatantly imagining the scenario in his mind. His eyebrows raise at whatever he's considering.

"I mean…. I might….?" He says finally, meeting your gaze again.

There's a slightly hopeful look in his eyes and despite your shock at his interest, you bite down on an excited smile and shift on the bench to straddle the wood, facing him properly.

His ability to charm you even at his most useless is quite something, you think, and you reach into the space between you both and pluck the dwindling cigarette from his lips.

Reigen makes a soft noise of interest and watches you stub it out in the ashtray.

"Face me." You instruct him, gesturing with a finger to show him where you want him.

Reigen does as he's told, a slave to your command in his drunken stupor, and swivels in his seat until his knees bump yours. He's so close that you can feel his body heat through your clothes and it makes you want to crawl inside his suit and stay there forever.

"Put your hands on my waist."

Reigen nods, swallowing thickly. "Yes ma'am."

Something hot curls up inside you at his address. You hadn't ever imagined he might be the type to enjoy being bossed around, but you're very happy to work with it.

His warm hands take up your waist and once he's settled, you take a hold of his tie again and slowly ease him down, lower and lower, until you're half an inch from his face.

Reigen's breath smells like the sugary cocktails he's been knocking back all night and fresh cigarette smoke; you'd usually balk at such a scent, but something about it is distinctly.... Him.

After months of yearning from afar, months of silent longing, you finally kiss him.

Reigen's eyes flutter shut as your lips connect. The tip of his nose is cold as it brushes your cheekbone, but his lips are warm and welcoming, and they part just enough for you to taste him.

Reigen gives a soft groan and leans forward a little more, pressing up as close as he can manage without dragging you into his lap. His hands tighten on your waist and he exhales through his nose, shaky and slow.

The kiss lasts for barely a few seconds.

It's intended to be short and sweet, and then Reigen is dragging you closer again, chasing your mouth as Serizawa had barely an hour before, yet with far more need. His desperation to keep going is oddly attractive.

This time, you risk the chance of overwhelming your subject.

Reigen wants more and you're perfectly willing to give it to him.

You lap at the seam of his lips until he parts them, slowly pressing your tongue to his. Reigen is clumsy and inexperienced, not as naturally graceful as Serizawa, but you do your best to guide him through, turning your head to accommodate him and deepening the kiss whilst he sighs and keens into your touch.

One of his hands comes up from your waist to hold the side of your face, his thumb running along your cheekbone, while his other finds your thigh.

Reigen works his fingers along the hem of your skirt until they just slip underneath the edge of the fabric, kneading the flesh there absentmindedly as he lets himself fall into you more.

You’re so caught up in the moment, all too happy to let him continue, that when the bar door swings open with a loud bang you almost jump out of your skin. It's an immediate reminder that you're still in public and the interruption is enough to make you pull away before things become even more heated.

Sitting back and attempting to catch your breath, you quickly glance over Reigen’s shoulder to check that no other patrons have caught the two of you in a compromising situation. Whoever it is doesn't seem to be interested in your activities, too busy clamouring with their friend about taxis and food as they leave.

When you turn back, Reigen looks like he's going to pass out; he's bright red but completely pale at the same time, breathing heavily and staring right through you.

Alarmed, you sit up straighter. "Are you-?"

"I'm gonna be sick." Reigen chokes out, scrambling up from his seat like a fawn on ice.

You flinch away as he rushes to a bin on the far side of the smoking area. He barely makes it in time to vomit up whatever overpriced drinks he's had tonight, hunched over the top of the can as he coughs and splutters.

Gross as it is, you feel a bit bad for him. His hands are shaking where they clutch the edge of the bin and you go to his side, rubbing circles on his back while he gags. You smooth his hair back from his sweaty forehead and reach over to lift his tie and stop it from dangling into the unpleasant stream until he's done throwing up for all he’s worth.

"Fuck." He gasps into the trash can, breathless and humiliated. "Fuck. I'm so sorry."

After a few more minutes of retching, Reigen manages to choke out another weak apology and straightens up, wiping his mouth with the sleeve of his jacket. He looks terrible; his hair is ruffled and his eyes are glazed, and you hate how sorry you feel for him. It’s horribly gross and if it was anyone else you’d have left them to suffer alone. Yet your empathy for Reigen seems to know no bounds.

"Don't mention it." You say with a smile, smoothing his hair back. "Do you feel better, at least?"

Reigen nods a little, sorry for himself.

"That'll teach you for drinking on an empty stomach." You tease. "Make sure you remember that the sick part was your fault."

Reigen flushes again and ducks his head, bashful. His colour is slowly returning and he looks less nauseated than he had.

A beat of awkward silence passes, filled only by the general chatter of the patrons leaving the bar behind you both, and Reigen clears his throat.

“Listen” he sighs, toeing the concrete with the edge of his shoe. “I’m sorry about just walking out earlier.”

You tilt your head a little, waiting for him to elaborate.

"I didn't mean to get weird about it." He admits, still unable to meet your eyes. "I just…. The kiss…. I wanted it to be me, y’know?”

“What?” You say with a tiny, disbelieving laugh. “You’ve been ignoring me all week, I thought you hated me! I mean, for a second there, I thought you were gonna fire me for-”

“Fire you?!” Reigen says, a little too loudly. “Fuck, no! Never!”

“Then why have you been avoiding m-?”

"Because you're so pretty!" he interrupts, like it pains and infuriates him. "Ever since you started working here, I've barely been able to stop myself from-”

Reigen cuts himself off with a growl of frustration.

“Not to mention that stupid outfit, wearing it in the office like you didn’t know what you were doing! You're so- It's so- Fuck." Reigen takes a deep breath and then plows on, using his opportunity to spill his guts in a much more metaphorical way this time.

"I had to avoid you last week, you keep wearing that little fucking skirt and it’s driving me nuts!" He groans. "I don't hate you, I just can't stop thinking about what you'd look like with it 'round your ankles."

Your knees feel weak at his admission.

"Yeah?" You breathe, biting down on your lip.

"Yeah!" Reigen says, visibly distressed and breathing hard. "And I know I'm your boss, and I know that's weird, and I really, really don’t want to get sued for harassment but I-!"

“Reigen!”

He’s working himself up and the last thing you want is for him to throw up again, so you clamp your hands on his face until he stops sucking in air like a dying fish and shuts up.

“Take a breath.” You say, laughing.

Reigen swallows thickly and breathes in, then out.

“I assumed you just wanted a kiss because you were jealous he got one.” With his face still between your hands, you nod back towards the building in reference to Serizawa, and Reigen shrugs.

“I mean, yeah, that too.” He mutters, pouting a bit.

You can’t hold back the surprised laughter that spills from your throat. This entire time you had assumed he had absolutely no interest in you at all beyond being friends. You thought yourself alone in your longing, lonely in the assumption and upset by the notion that he’d rather move somewhere else than tolerate your presence. The avoidance, the grouchiness, the comments; none of it suggested to you that he felt any other way.

You can’t quite believe your luck.

Reigen must misconstrue your silence for rejection because he starts to back off, reaching up to extricate himself from your grip, and you’re forced to clamp your hands down around his face to keep him still.

“Why didn’t you bring it up?” You ask, ignoring the confused look on his face.

“What was I gonna say; ‘Look, I know I’m your superior but I think you’re really hot and kind and sweet, you wanna get dinner sometime’?.” He scoffs, as though it’s a ridiculous notion.

“Reigen,” You grin. “I’d love to. That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

Reigen’s brows disappear under his fringe and his mouth opens and closes as he flounders for something to say, stunned at your response.

“What?” He manages to choke out.

“I would love to get dinner with you.” You giggle.

Reigen breathes a laugh, the biggest grin you’ve ever seen splitting his face in half, and he nods quickly. “You would? I can do that. Anywhere you want.”

You join him in relieved laughter and loop your arms around his neck, tugging him closer until your bodies are pressed flush together. It feels so good to have him close like this.

Reigen wraps his arms around your waist in response, his big hands wandering from your sides to the small of your back.

“And if it helps,” You smirk, tugging gently on the back of his hair. “I’d also love for you to see me with my skirt around my ankles….”

Reigen groans softly. His eyes fall shut for a moment and when he opens them again, something hot lurks in his gaze.

“Oh yeah?” He murmurs, looking down to your mouth.

You can tell he wants to turn this into a new game and as much as you’d like to indulge him, you’re acutely aware that only moments ago he was puking into a public bin.

“If you’re waiting for another kiss,” you smirk, biting your lower lip. “You better go brush your teeth.”

Reigen releases you so quickly that you almost fall over with a yelp. He swiftly ducks under the rope that seals off the smoking area and starts to jog towards the lit up rows of shops down the street.

“Stay here!” He yells over his shoulder. “The konbini doesn’t shut ‘til one! I’ll be right back!”

“Where are you going?!” You shout after his retreating form.

“Toothpaste!” Reigen says, turning around to throw you a wink.

You can do nothing except laugh as you watch him leg it towards the closest convenience store.

#reigen arataka #reigen arataka x reader #reigen x reader #mob psycho 100 #I have 200k words of reader fics in my drafts do u want them #all for reigen #and god damn the formatting on this site is dogshit #go to my ao3 if you want better #my fics

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scarletttries · 1 year

Text

Forever Mine (Kendall Roy Succession Request)

Pairing: Kendall Roy (Succession) x F! Reader

Rating: Explicit (Breeding Kink/ Jealous Kendall)

Word Count: 2.1k

Request: "Hiii Scarlett!!! I LOVE to read your kendall roy writings💜 can you write something about kendall trying to get you pregnant( bc I LOVED breeding kink) ?? Or having rough sex bc getting jealous of one of his friends' attention to u??"

Author's note: Thank you so much for this excellent request, I kind of combined the two ideas into the below fic for you 🥰💕

Forever Mine

"How can a company that makes more money than really exists in the world still need more investors?" You sighed into your fizzing glass of champagne as you continued to circulate through the crowd, Gerri stifling a laugh at your side.

"How'd you think the rich stay rich? They never use their own money for anything." She feigned a smile as a group of men shuffled past, their metaphorical wallets straining against the fabric of their designer suits as they moved. "Now if you'll excuse me, I've gotta go make them all feel important, so I can keep my job." You could see her eyes roll as she plastered on a fake smile and left you stood by the bar, hoping that Kendall would get bored soon enough and call it a night for the both of you. You never minded being his plus one to events like this, the chance to see him in his charming element not one you'd pass up, Ken stealing glances your way all night with a smile on his face that he only wore for you. But after a few hours the conversations always wore a little thin, and you usually found one of the old guard hovering beside you to make sure you weren't doing anything that might get people commenting.

"Are you waiting for a drink?" An strangely familiar voice snapped you back to reality, spinning on your heels to find a tall, well-built man in his fifties smiling at you like a lion spying a gazelle.

"No, I'm all set thank you, just pausing here for a moment." You replied with a courteous smile, taking a small step backwards as if you were blocking the bar that spanned the length of the decadent hall.

"Would you mind if I 'pause' with you for a moment?" It was then that you placed his suave voice in your mind, the man an up-and-coming congressman that couldn't stop appearing on ATN news shows, repeating whatever lines Logan's team had written from him that day. As he leaned over the bar to ask for a whiskey you took the opportunity to glance around for an exit plan, but with groups of investors all deep in conversation on every side of you, you swallowed the acid in your throat and resigned yourself to an uncomfortable conversation with the awful man in front of you.

"Of course, it's a pleasure to meet you congressman." Kendall would've been able to tell your polite tone was entirely fake, but the man in front of you smirked proudly at the title, pleased you knew who he was and hoping to score more than financial backing from you this evening.

"The pleasure's all mine." He stretched out the hand that wasn't holding an ornate crystal glass, taking what should have been a courteous handshake way too far as he leant forward to bring his lips to the top of your hand, still curled in a stomach curdling smirk as they pressed against your skin. "Now tell me, exactly how much would I have to invest in Waystar for you to leave this shindig with me tonight?"

"You might have better luck if you don't hit on the date of the richest man in here." Before you could spit out your own retort, you heard the dark drawl of Kendall appearing beside you, face twisted in stoney discontent as the political pawn tried to save face a little.

"Fair enough, I know when I'm beat." He raised his hands in fake surrender as he backed away, but not before throwing a final uncomfortable wink your way, "You know who I am, if you change your mind." You could feel Kendall's hand fall to your lower back in response, trying to keep you in the palm of his hand, as if this disgusting character could actually pull you away from him. Hoping to lighten the tension between the two men before Kendall pulled some strings and ended this man's career, you let out an uneasy laugh,

"Well you've got my vote." You cringed at the hollow chuckle from Kendall beside you as your politician smiled again and stepped off into the crowd, looking for easier prey, leaving you to try and reassure the embodiment of jealousy beside you.

"Kendall, you know-"

"You ready to get out of here?" He cut you off before you could start, the unsettling smile on his face difficult to read as he threaded his fingers through yours and scouted out the nearest lift to take you out of the events hall and up to the hotel suites the Roy family had booked out for the night.

"Yeah, of course, let's go love." You said the final word extra softly, watching the corners of his mouth twitch slightly, unable to contain his warmth at the affectionate pet name, your love the truest thing he'd known in his complex life.

You felt his hand squeeze yours as he led you through the crowd until finally the two of you were alone, the chirpy elevator music cutting through an otherwise tense silence.

"You know I was trying to be polite Ken." You offered reassuringly, Kendall keeping his gaze fixed to the floor numbers illuminating on the touch screen beside you.

"I know honey, it's not your fault men can't fucking stay away from you." His tone was almost vindicative as the doors finally opened on your floor, a sprawling penthouse for just the two of you, another exquisite home away from home for the night.

The moment the doors behind you slid shut, Kendall was on top of you, his teeth clashing against yours with the sheer force of his passion. The crash of his lips took your breath away as his hands found your hips, gripping them tight enough that the silky fabric of your dress bunched in handfuls as he guided your back to the chaise longue that stood at the opening of the suite, the bedroom far too great a distance to travel.

As your lower back met the antique fabric, Kendall's hands skimmed up your the length of your spine, sending shivers through your body as his lips moved hungrily to your neck, a devouring the soft flesh there enough to leave a trail of deep purple lovebites,

"Why is it so fucking hard for everyone to see that you're mine?" Kendall panted into your neck as he pulled the straps of your dress down your shoulders, handling you with rough, frantic movements, his chest heaving against yours as he worked to free you from the satin that came between you.

"I'm all yours Kendall." You breathed out as your dress hit the floor, relishing in the guttural growl the words drew from the still fully-dressed man, drinking in the sight of you as he cupped your cheek in his hand and drew you in for another hungry kiss.

"I know love, I just think we need to make that more obvious." His tongue danced against yours as his eye fluttered shut, shrugging off his jacket as you pushed it from his shoulders. His lips trailed over your chin and down your throat as he sunk to his knees. He sucked and nipped at your exposed skin, his hands running along your sides as his head sank between your breasts before settling at your stomach, peppering the soft curves with kisses as his fingers tugged your panties down your thighs, helping you step out of them so nothing obstructed his perfect view of your body.

"How are we gonna do that?" You questioned absentmindedly as you let the sensation flooding from his sinking kisses run through your veins, his lips inching closer and closer to your tingling centre. You didn't miss the devilish glint in his eye as he paused and looked up at you, face hovering so close to your entrance you could feel his hot breath against your sensitive skin.

"I can think of two ways." He nuzzled his nose softly against your clit and watched the way your body reacted so desperately to his touch, your hips twitching forward and your chest rising as you gasped at the contact. His tongue darted forward to add to the sensation, lapping at the bundle of nerves while one hand snaked up your inner thigh. The moan you let out as he hummed against you only made him happier as his fingers toyed with your slit, now wet with your slick from the way he'd manhandled you. "It's so easy for me to tell you're all mine when you get this wet for me." His fingers dipped inside your entrance as he spoke, you knees all but buckling at the relief in your throbbing core at the contact, the arm of the sofa behind you the only thing keeping you upright.

"All for you Kendall." His name came out entirely in moan as he plunged two of his fingers into you with a frantic rhythm, wanting to get you more than ready to feel the rest of him deep inside you.

"Maybe I should let everyone know just how much you like my fingers inside you by putting a fucking enormous diamond on yours." He watched, enamoured by the way you eyes shot open at his words before clenching shut as his lips found your clit again, bringing you so close to the edge of your pleasure that all you could do was smile and hum in agreement at his words. As he started to feel the familiar tremble of your thighs he pulled his hand away, groaning at the needy whimper that left your lips as he did.

"Ken?" Your eyes were as pleading as your words as you watched him unbuckle his belt, rubbing your thighs together to try and ease some of the frustration that was pulsing in your centre.

"I think the second way is much more fun though." His eyes were dark with desire as he kicked off his dress pants, letting you see his hard length leaking excitedly as he grabbed your hips and helped you fall backwards onto the long loveseat behind you, quickly following suit, kneeling in between your thighs to keep your legs spread for him. He ran his tip through your dripping folds, watching you whine and flinch at the sensation, trying to drive him into action,

"What's the second way to let people know I'm all yours?" Kendall watched your chest rise and fall as you panted out the words, so sensitive from being brought to the edge that his teasing had you writhing around underneath him. Grinning like a devil he finally lined himself up with your entrance, waiting until he spoke to buck his hips harshly into you.

"To get you pregnant. Fuck!" He cried out as slammed his hips against yours, hitting the spot deep inside you that had you arching your back and crying out in agreement. "You'd like that wouldn't you. For everyone to know how well you take my dick. How full I get you."

"Yes daddy," You moaned, overwhelmed by his relentless pace as he fucked hard and fast into you, his hands running over your stomach until they reach your bouncing chest. His hands cupped your breasts, fingertips teasing your nipples as he stared down at you, completely dominating your body.

"Everyone would be able to see these get bigger, and I bet they'd get so sensitive I could have you in tears just playing with your nipples. We can practice you having my lips on them all day until you've soaked through every set of fucking lingerie I've ever bought you." He could see the wide desperation in your eyes as your pleasure climbed again, every pinch and thrust setting every cell in your body alight.

"I'm so close, please." You cried out, volume almost a scream as you begged for your release, Kendall's own thrusts losing rhythm as he fought to make this moment last forever.

"You want me to cum in you? You want me to fill you up and make you lie here until your carrying my seed? Until it's clear to everyone that you're mine forever?" His questions were all but drowned out by the chanting yeses that spill from your lips as your walls clenched around him and your body started to shake with your release.

"Yes Ken, I'm yours forever." You managed to breathe out as the waves of pleasure washed over you, amplified by the incredibly feeling of him spilling inside you, the warmth deep in your abdomen somehow more intense than usual knowing that Kendall's breeding kink had been fully awakened, and he wouldn't satisfied until he'd filled you with as much of him as you could take.

Leaning forward his elbows settled either side of your head, lips meeting yours for a sweet kiss as he repeated the words, "Mine. Forever."

"All yours love." You echoed softly, the devotion in his eye clear as his lips returned to yours again and again, drinking in the sweet taste of your affections.

"You know we're not leaving this room until you're so full of my cum, it's dripping out of you, right?"

#writing #fanfiction #one shot #requests #kendall roy headcanon #kendall roy succession #kendall roy x reader #kendall roy #kendall roy imagine #kendall roy smut #kendall succession #succession imagine

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peeves-gurl · 4 months

Text

Just Us, And Your Friend Steve

Eddie Munson x GN!Reader

This is the first time I've written for a Stranger Things character so I'm sorry if it's bad.

Warnings: Fluff, cute, oblivious Steve, secret relationship, implied sex at the end

As the end credits of some corny old horror movie rolled in, Robin stood up from the couch in your garage, stretching her limbs with a groan. Dustin, Lucas, Max, Mike and El were still rubbing their eyes in the dark, and Steve’s head hung back on your couch as he slept through the slight commotion.

You sneaked look towards Eddie, who was looking right back at you from across the room, a smirk plastered on his face, before the lights were flicked on.

The two of you had been seeing each other in secret for a couple of weeks now. He had confessed his feelings for you when he showed up outside your window at midnight, just when you were beginning to realise the crush you had on him. Things were going pretty well, and after a drive through date and another movie date, today was supposed to be your third. He was to stay the night at your place since your parents weren’t home. You planned to watch cheesy rom-coms and cuddle on the couch, and you really hoped it could be something more than cuddling by the end of the night.

That was until Steve suggested a group movie marathon at your place because he knew your parents weren’t home. You and Eddie were now stuck at opposite sides of the room, trying your best to not shoo the others out of your place so that you could have him all to yourself.

“Alright people, enough for today.” Robin said.

“Yes, time for bed kids!” Eddie said, eagerly motioning them to get up from their places.

“Okay, Robin takes you lot back as well.” Steve said, his voice still hoarse from his nap. “Let’s go Eddie.”

Eddie’s van had broken down just this morning, and Steve stepped in to pick him up from the trailer park, and Robin borrowed her cousin’s car to bring in the kids.

You looked at Eddie again, giving your best puppy dog eyes silently begging him to stay and he nodded, turning to answer Steve.

“I-uh…” He started, “I’ll get a cab Steve, don’t worry.”

“Cab? Don’t tell me you’re fighting again, Steve!” Robin scolded, slapping her best friend’s arm.

“What! No?” Steve said, hitting her right back. “Why do you want to take a cab dude? I’ll take you.”

“Oh… I thought you’re tired so I’ll let you get home early.” Eddie said meekly.

“It’s not a problem Ed. It barely takes ten minutes.” Steve replied with a smile, and you almost wanted to melt at his kindness and give into letting Eddie go back home.

“Actually,” Eddie attempted again, “I need to go to the garage and check how much work is left on the van.”

“Oh, that’s fine. I’ll come with you,” Steve said sweetly. “My dad knows the garage owner so I can get you a discount.”

Eddie turned to face you helplessly, and you shrugged slightly. You always appreciated Steve’s concern and were glad to have a friend like him. But boy, could he be more oblivious?

Eddie reluctantly agreed to go with Steve, and excused himself out of the room to use the washroom attached to your room, but not before discreetly motioning you to follow him.

You waited for a couple of moments, chatting casually with Steve, before you mumbled something about a book that you needed to return to Eddie that was in your wardrobe.

As soon as you entered the dimly lit room, Eddie pulled you into a hug, and it was obvious that he was longing for your touch just as much as you were for his.

You pushed yourself up on your toes to leave a peck on his lips, and he returned it immediately, and it quickly turned into a makeout session. His hands were on your hips, and yours were around his neck, pulling him closer to yourself. You could taste the caramel popcorn he had been munching on, mixed with the sugary soda and bubble gum, and you were glad that he neither smelled, nor tasted like cigarettes.

Eddie had stopped smoking months ago. It was after you had casually mentioned that you once ended up with an allergic cough because of your uncle who smoked, and it was this very effort of his that made you realise your feelings for him.

“So it’s finally me and you,” you whispered, pulling away to look into his deep brown eyes that you’d grown to love.

“You and me,” Eddie said, placing another peck on your lips.

“Just us, and your friend Steve.” You giggled, poking his chest with your finger.

“Hey! He’s your friend too!” Eddie reprimanded.

“Yeah, a very sweet, very oblivious friend.” You said, looking up at him with a deep sense of longing.

“I’ll get a cab back here later at night and stay over,” Eddie offered after a pause.

“No, it’s okay Eds. My parents will be out for a week next month. Maybe then?” You said hopefully.

“Or you could somehow come to mine? Tell your parents you’re going to Robin’s for a sleepover. Wayne’s out most nights, you know”

“And we’ll have to tell Robin about us for that… She’ll have to cover for me if my Mum calls her place,” you reminded.

“I do want to tell them, honestly, but only after we’re a hundred percent sure that we won’t kill them for teasing us.” He stated, and you agreed.

“Maybe I can tell my parents once they’re back. They like you anyways.” You said, burying your face into his neck.

“Maybe,” he said, before leaning in to kiss you again.

“Oh!” Steve gasped, and you pulled away from Eddie immediately, putting a small distance between the two of you as you faced Steve.

You were so lost in the moment that neither of you heard Steve’s footsteps walking towards your room to check what was taking you both so long. And now he was standing at your bedroom door that had been left wide open, smirking at your flustered faces.

“I knew Munson had the hots for you,” he said, “but I didn’t know he’d told you.”

“I did, just a few weeks back,” Eddie said throwing an arm around your shoulders and moving closer.

“Well, no wonder you wanted to take a cab.” Steve laughed.

“Sorry, we did mean to tell you guys in a couple of days,” You explained.

“Never mind guys! I’m glad you’re together.” Steve chuckled, hugging you and patting your back, and doing the same to Eddie. “I’ll be off then. Use protection!”

“Steve!” You groaned.

With a final chuckle, he took to his heel and left the house to you and Eddie, just how you guys had planned originally.

“Just us now?” Eddie smiled, and you kissed him deeply.

“I’ve been waiting all night.” You whispered against his lips, threading your fingers though his hair and earning a soft whimper from him

And safe to say, a lot more than cuddling did happen that night, and you were truly grateful for the happiness Eddie brought into your life.

Should I write more for Eddie?Please give me your reviews!!

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things

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jpeg-dot-jpeg · 6 months

Note

24 & jaytim for the prompt list? <3

!!! this idea has been living rent free in my head since i got this prompt and i've been trying to figure out how to do it justice. hope you enjoy!

24. “You’re the only one I trust to do this.”

Jason opens the front door and the first thing he says is, "Okay, you have to be nice to me right now."

Tim blinks. "I...wasn't planning to do otherwise?"

He grunts and takes a step back, motioning for Tim to come inside.

When the door is shut, Tim looks at him and asks, "Shirt on or off?"

Jason hedges for a second, plays with the idea of pretending he isn't so far gone over the edge that just the thought of bare skin makes him want to howl. But he's been waiting long enough just for Tim to arrive. He doesn't have it in him to make things harder for himself.

"Off."

The shirt hits the ground, left in a crumpled heap next to the sneakers Tim kicked off upon entering.

Jason likes that about Tim. He knows when not to ask questions, when not to push, when to just saddle up and get shit done. There's not an ounce of expectation or judgement when he looks around and asks, "Couch? Or bed?"

"Couch." The bed might be a tad too much for Jason's frail heart.

They shuffle into the living room. "How do you want me?"

Jason's brain stutters. He hadn't thought that far ahead. "Umm. Lie down. On your back."

Tim obeys without question, cushions bouncing under his weight, and settles in by arranging a pillow under his head before opening his arms in invitation.

And Jason-

Jason blacks out for a teeny tiny second with force of how desperately he wants to be held. In a breath, he finds himself suddenly plastered onto Tim's front, clutching to him like a life raft.

He's shaking. When did he start shaking?

A cold fingered hand rests on his back and another buries itself in Jason's hair and he could sob with the immense relief of it. He has his own hands hooked under Tim's shoulders, cheek pressed to his chest, and its not close enough. Jason wants to crush them together so hard they just blend into one fleshy amalgamation.

"How are you feeling?" Tim's voice is laced with an obvious concern that he doesn't have the bandwidth to ease. He gives an unintelligible grumble into the skin over Tim's heart. "Jay, you're shaking." The hand in his hair slides down to press against his carotid. Tim makes an unhappy noise. "When's the last time you got a booster for your pollen vaccine?"

The question irritates Jason more than it should, but its just so hard to think when the hand on his back is rubbing up and down like that. He catches one of Tim's legs between both of his own and squeezes hard enough to bruise himself on Tim's bony knee; it settles his nerves a bit.

"Fuckin'.... when I was fourteen?" he guesses.

The hand on his back doesn't still, but he can fucking feel Tim thinking. "Jason, if you haven't had a booster in years, that's almost as bad as metabolizing the pollen without being vaccinated at all."

"Been busy," he mumbles into Tim's chest. Its a bullshit excuse and they both know it. Jason wasn't too busy to get his flu shot every winter for the past half-a-decade. But deliberately going to the cave, making his medical history available to the whole fuckin' family, and having to ask Bruce to synthasize a booster for him? Yeah, too busy.

"If I'd known how bad it was for you, I would've-" Tim cuts himself off. Would've what? Would've nothing. Tim was in the middle of a very important, very time sensitive op when Jason called him. Something Tim couldn't in good faith have dropped cold. Something Jason couldn't in good faith have asked him to.

He knows what Tim is going to say next before he says it.

"Why did you wait for me to finish? Why not call someone else? There are a bunch of people who'd be willing to help you right now."

And the thing is that Tim is right. Jason didn't have to wait on him. Just about anyone he'd be willing to call would be willing to help him. The problem is that the list of people he's willing to call shrinks to zilch when he gets emotional.

Sure, he could have called Roy or Kori or Artemis, or Dick or Cass or Alfred, even fucking Bruce. They'd do it for him. But just doing it isn't enough. Not when he's unstable and vulnerable and oversensitive like this. Not when the slightest hint of awkwardness or most minor teasing comment could send him bursting into tears, and it drives him nuts because he knows its the pollen sending his hormones out of whack, but that doesn't make him any less prone to a humiliating emotional outburst.

God, it feels like something's crawling on him.

"I need-"

Jason digs his fingers into Tim's shoulders, fighting to vocalize the pure animalistic urges warring in his stomach. Tim stays blessedly silent so he can figure it out.

"I need-" he starts again. He doesn't know what he needs. Instead of trying to explain, Jason tugs on Tim until they shift around 90 degrees, his back against the couch, boxed in by Tim's body. He needs to be crushed, and he shuffles backwards and pulls Tim in closer until he barely has enough room to breathe.

When he's feeling a bit less manic, Jason counts his breaths and releases his death grip on Tim's shoulder. "...you're the only one I trust to do this."

And Tim just says, "Okay. I'm glad you trust me with this."

The tension leaks from his body. The worst of it is past with Tim pressed against him.

"If you send me a fully updated medical portfolio," Tim says after a while, "I can whip you up a fresh booster. And any other shots you might be behind on."

And Jason just says, "Okay. I will."

#JayTim #ficlet #Tim Drake #Jason Todd #ladytauria my beloved #ask #ask answered

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atxxzist · 1 year

Text

broken | c.s (06)

prev // next // series m.list

pairing: choi san x reader

word count: 8.6k

warning: suggestive, idk what else but do lmk if i missed sum!

"so, want to play a few frames?" jongho asks.

though you considered the idea, you still weren't one-hundred percent sure about this 'double date', having told yuna you still needed some time, but she managed to drag you to the local bowling alley, squeezing you into the tightest dress she owns.

it feels like you're being suffocated because not is it only incredibly tight, but also a size too small.

"we could, but, i've never played before."

"oh, thank goodness," he says in relief, "me neither. but you know, protocols and whatnot."

a nervous smile emerges from him and you giggle in response, attention quickly batting to yuna and minhyuk by one of the lanes all flirty smiles and heart eyes, trying to act like they're interested in the game but you know it's the last thing on their mind.

when you first saw minhyuk, his sharp eyes and prominent features were the first thing you noticed.

he's handsome, in an overly intimidating way that probably has fathers pointing fingers and telling their daughters this is the kind of guy they need to stray far from.

which is why you expected his friend to be equally as alarming, only for the softest looking boy you've ever seen to pop out from behind him in parted black hair and puppy-like visual.

he's also an entire grade younger than you.

"you have a boyfriend, or?" his sudden question catching you offguard, unable to help the laughter that slips off.

"i don't," you reply casually. it might be because he's younger that allows for you to relax a little and not feel so tense around someone new and unfamiliar.

"ah, okay. just trying to minimize the risks of possibly getting a black eye, if i, by any chance, happen to hit on you."

another laughter pours at the silly comment.

"if i had a boyfriend, i wouldn't be here."

"oh, true. in that case, i hope you're ready to hear all the bad pick-up lines i've been waiting to use."

you roll your eyes, trying the very best to reframe from breaking out into an amused smile at the boy's attempt. the stark contrast to the one you're used to, because it's so innocent and it doesn't make you feel a little sick afterward.

his silly antics continues to entertain you, a giggle finally leaving along with a big smile plastered on your lips, you wouldn't even think of the possibility of someone watching a little too closely.

but san having arrived long enough to catch the exchange and occupying a booth far in the back, leans into the ear of the girl he came with, spewing a combination of words that brings out a smirk in her before really excusing himself.

"ok, you tell me which one sounds lamer--" jongho is rambling on when a figure comes into his peripheral vision, pausing midway to glare out of curiosity, one eyebrow raising at the person standing before him.

"san? you asshole, is that you?"

your breathing cuts short, head turning around so fast at the name that makes your heartbeat multiply. because it couldn't possibly be your san, right?

but lo and behold, there he is in all flesh and bones--it's those lips you kissed a couple days ago, and he's perfect just as you remember, going on to take a seat beside jongho while nudging him playfully to make space.

"i knew it was this fucker as soon as i stepped foot into the place," san says, a smile too warm on his lips.

jongho snickers and scoots over a little.

"what gave it away? my incredibly handsome look?"

san returns a snicker but with more edge. "the violence i suddenly felt at seeing your annoying face."

"real funny, choi number one. considering you came all the way over here, i'd say you even missed me a little."

"wrong. i came here for y/n."

the way your smile drops from their small banter when san immediately looks your direction is not even funny.

you want to comment on what a small world it is, that your blind date happens to know san, but the only thing that comes out is you in a stuttering mess and muttering out such a rhetorical question.

"y-you guys know each other?" stupid. of course they do.

san looks like he's going to say something but the younger boy beats him to it.

"he attended the same high school."

"right," san adds, "and jongho here, had a thing for playing hero and making my life all more difficult."

jongho chuckles it off and leans back, crossing his arms.

"i was on the school committee. i mean, i still am," he states almost too proudly, "and i was the one who busted this asshole for vaping on school ground."

san quirks his lips to the side with a shrug.

"student life was stressful," is all he says.

"yeah yeah. and somehow i became choi number two just because he's older."

"also because you're a little bitch that got me put on community service my last year of high school. an enemy situation throughout."

jongho stands back up to straighten his posture.

"i object. more like a little enemies turned friends, no? i think we got along fine during the last few weeks of school."

"that's only because i was tolerating your ass and school was ending."

a scoff accompanies jongho as he turns to you.

"somewhere in that cold heart of his, i know he has a soft spot for me." he smiles and you can't help but giggle, missing the way san quickly scans the amount of skin you're showing, along with the kind of dress he thinks you should wear more often.

"so, from what i'm hearing, we're all acquaintances here?" jongho continues.

san has to pry his eyes away while yours shoot to him when he hums out a low note in response.

"well, maybe you and y/n are. but i'm sure i mean more to her than that."

he delivers you a look, something so playful but with a hidden mystery to them that is all more attractive because of a smirk at the corner of his lips.

you don't know what all of it means but he just might be trying to get the upper hand against the younger boy who's even more clueless than you are.

"definitely not her boyfriend, at least. she told me she doesn't have one."

a light pink blush crawls onto your cheeks, growing shy from something that is as a matter of factly, true; having only made it known not even that long ago to said boy.

san chuckles at the sight, the smirk that was there before turning into an amused smile that's just a little addicted to the flush on your face.

"oh, did she now?" he mumbles; an edge to his voice the same time his lips quirk to the side so handsomely.

but jongho doesn't miss a single thing. not the look in san's eyes--a familiar one he's seen far too many times, and definitely not the lovesick symptom on your cheeks.

"you sly mother fucker," he hisses, shaking his head.

"you see, y/n. this is the kind of guy you stay away from."

san laughs, dimissing the boy's remark and playing it off as something lighthearted though it was said with just the smallest kind of cautious undertone like a warning.

"while guys like minhyuk, they might look like they got some shady shit going on, but let me tell you, that guy donates to the animal shelters a few times a year."

you swipe another glance at your roommate and her date from the comment, a smile so wide on minhyuk's face when yuna scores a strike.

"pfft," san blows with a faint eye roll, you turning back to stare at the two in front. "and what kind of guy would you be?" sarcasm in his delivery.

jongho sneers, a confident smile on his expression.

"exactly the kind y/n over here would love to get to know."

san laughs loud and amused, the sound so harmonious to your ear, you wouldn't mind hearing it every single day if given the chance.

your stomach still flutters a little at jongho's words, the silliness that was present before seemingly fading out replaced by a more stern tone that overtakes him.

"i'm sure y/n doesn't date little kids," san snarks, a smirk on him from beating down the younger boy.

"only a couple more months and i'll be of legal age, i'm sure she doesn't mind the wait."

the snicker that escapes you can't be helped, flattered by his attempts but still unable to take him seriously just because he's younger and might just be doing it to piss san off.

"and when is that, if you don't mind me asking," you bring up, genuinely wanting to know and not just because you'll wait for him.

"october the 12th!"

"ah," you softly mumble. "i'll be sure to write it down."

jongho looks to be in awe, haven't really thought that you would take it so literally.

"really?"

you nod, a thin smile drawing on your lips.

"in that case, i should ask for yours, too. when is your birthday, y/n?"

san watches the exchange the entire time with intrigued ears and eyes, at first annoyed by the younger boy who always know how to ruffle a few feathers, but what takes his breath away is how relaxed you are when conversing with jongho.

a side of you he's only seen when you're with your friends; something more lively and carefree, a complete contrast to how tense you always are around him.

but when jongho asks that question, it's the sinking realization that he doesn't know it, too. not just your birthday, but also anything else about you besides your body.

he doesn't remember a single time he's asked you any questions if it wasn't for his own personal benefits.

so why, why the fuck is he suddenly having this crisis and mulling over not knowing enough about you just because you're nosy and want to know more about him. especially when it's something so small and stupid like birthdays.

even when you tell jongho with such a shy smile on your face, uttering the month and day, he knows it will fly over his head later. he's never been good at remembering these kind of things anyways.

"i am going to be sure to remember it!" jongho states with determination, san being unfazed and knowing for sure the boy will because if there's one thing to know about him, it's that he has an annoyingly good memory.

"but say, y/n, you're having a birthday party, would you rather it be at the park or at your grandparents' house?"

"now, why the fuck would you do it at your grandparents' house?" san finally speaks up, his comment earning a low chuckle from you.

jongho groans in agreement. "that's what i told my mom!"

"i guess i'm with the both of you," you say softly, "though i probably don't have the best judgment. i-i don't really celebrate birthdays."

jongho's eyes stills as they keep open, the atmosphere dropping silent until he subtly starts talking again, "oh? how come?"

you never even knew birthdays were deemed such a special occasion; it being celebrated with friends and families all around, happy for that one day that you grow a year older.

the only birthdays you knew of wasn't anything special at all.

it wasn't until mingi invited you to a party of his that freshman year of high school that you learned birthdays aren't supposed to be spent in the small space of your tiny room alone, or trying to guess which parent you'll end up being shipped to next year.

"just something my family never did much, i guess," you simplify, and jongho nods along with an understanding hum.

"they're really not all that," san chips in, both yours and jongho's heads snapping his direction. "waste of money and time."

jongho takes offense, his expression twisting in response.

"okay there, edgelord. someone obviously never got invited to birthday parties as a kid."

"like hell i'd go," san snarks.

jongho rolls his eyes and moves his focus back to you.

"anyways. i will be taking the college entrance exam later this year, and if i don't get into yonsei, you just might see me around after i become of age," he announces somewhat jokingly but with the smallest chance that he means it.

san's husky and unbelievable laughter bursts from beside him, wanting to roll his eyes all the way to the back of his head, knowing the younger boy is playing it up.

"isn't it past your curfew," he remarks, totally out of topic but just eager to take a jab at the innapropriateness of it all considering jongho's age.

jongho furrows his eyebrows and actually checks his phone, an annoyed look on him once he registers the blow.

"you liar. it's only nine."

san scoffs, a little satisfied smirk at the corner of his lips.

"my curfew is at ten, i will tell you!"

the boys continues to make small, harmless insults to one up one another while you watch on the side, officially becoming a third wheel but the sight is too endearing for a subtle smile to not crack.

eventually, you have to use the restroom; sparing one last glance at yuna before excusing yourself to ask one of the workers.

this one is a little bigger; a few stalls at least and has two sinks. but while washing your hands, all you're able to think about is san back there and how it was the most you've gotten to know about him without having to ask.

maybe it's the magic of jongho and his more childish, laidback persona that allowed for not just you, but san as well, to show a more playful side of him. nothing like the man you've become accustomed to who's a little more calculating in his nature.

having watched as he fooled with the younger boy, wrestling and tickling him with a certain competitiveness that brings out a cute giggle that makes him look so approachable, exactly the kind of guy you think your aunt and uncle would approve of.

from a mere glance, no one would be able to tell this is the guy currently breaking your heart; the one having planted so many doubts in your head, he doesn't even bother to call or text anymore after having made clear what this is between you and him.

because unless you seek him out first, you won't hear from him. and it's been three days since the last time you were at his place, breathing underneath him and feeling so much pleasure, only to regret it later, swearing on your life this is the worst feeling ever and you're not sure if you can do it again.

you just didn't think, especially during a time where you're supposed to be forgetting about him--your face full of makeup products you usually wouldn't wear and a dress too tight hugging your body, that he'd show up so handsome and charming; all kinds of reminder why you returned the two times before and why it won't be the last.

about ready to go back, you're only a few inches out the door when a pair of hand latches onto your shoulders, pushing you back in against the counter, your eyes looking up into the one person capable of cornering you like this.

"hey," san utters, a coy smile on his lips as his hands releases from your shoulders and settles on the counter, trapping you inbetween.

you tense up a little, shifting in your spot and managing to reply through your trembling voice.

"h-hey."

he quirks an eyebrow before a smaller laughter bubbles out, one hand going to move the strands covering your eyes the way he always does.

"what's the matter? i haven't seen you in three days." his chest relaxes a little and his shoulders drop, inching even closer to you.

it's like once he really got that out of the way, everything starts leaking to the surface as well. everything about who this man really is and how he's nothing alike to the sweet, considerate boy you bumped into back at the party who helped you.

it's an awful discovery.

but what's worse is whenever you look at him, beyond his exterior and closed-off nature, you think there's a person underneath that you would love to know.

someone who has a story of his own; a story you would love to listen to if given the chance.

but that's always been your downfall. because when you love, you love hard. and maybe you didn't completely love junseo, but when someone is yours and you're theirs, you give them your entire heart.

and someone like san, someone so unattainable with his coy eyes and dimply smiles that always turn you a few shade redder, you think it would be nice if he was yours and you were his... because you would undoubtly love him wholeheartedly.

"i was busy," you tell him, swallowing down the pit that is both nervous but excited at whatever's about to come.

"that's fine," he dismisses it along with a low buzz under his breath, eyes quick to drool over the amount of exposed skin he's been dying to touch all night.

he's never seen you in this kind of outfit before. you were usually covered in three layers of clothing that was always annoying to take off.

"how did you know it was me?" you ask, playing dumb to the sight of his bottom lip in between his teeth.

he has to rip his attention away to meet your stoic eyes at the question, murmuring, "huh?"

"you told jongho you came over because of me, or was that--" a lie, too?

"--no, no, beautiful." he shakes his head, both hands caressing over your cheeks. "of course i was telling the truth. i knew from the hair and from the mole on your right shoulder."

san might not know a lot of things about you. not even the basics of your favorite movie or your dream, and he's not even sure if he remembers your birthday although you just told them not even that long ago, but he knows your body and all the ins and outs of it.

how your lips taste like, how pretty your boobs are, and how exactly to get you to cum. he knows all the faces you make during sex, and what to say and how to say it just so he can see that color on your cheeks that he likes a little too much.

and he definitely could spot that soft, silky texture of hair that had a big likelihood of it being yours.

he was only maybe seventy-percent confident at first, but the closer he got to the table, catching that mole on your shoulder he's gotten used to seeing, he knew it was you for sure.

"oh..." you say defeatedly, unable to wrap your head around the fact that san can actually recall something about you.

"what's wrong? you're not actually thinking about waiting for jongho and disappointed that i showed?"

your lips forms a pout, shaking your head.

"no. it's not that."

he chuckles, always having enjoyed backing you into a corner as if that's ever been hard to do.

"good. because he already left. his mommy called."

"oh..."

"yeah," he repeats, a tone so satisfied about the fact he's the only person for you at the moment. no chances of anyone else stealing your attention away; not even a pestering high schooler who lives to annoy him but also has the possibility of developing the smallest crush on you.

one of his hands suddenly snakes to your hip, settling on it with a light squeeze that makes you jolt up; the closer he leans in, the more your back presses against the edge of the counter.

"you look so fucking hot like this," he hisses, eyes once again unashamedly checking you out.

"it's yuna's dress."

"well, you should wear yuna's dresses more often."

his hand at your hip fumbles with the material, bottom lip caught in between his teeth again when it comes over just how perfect it fits over your figure.

silence eats up the air until he looks up and catches your gaze in his, staring at him like you're just waiting to be wrecked the same way he's always done it. a smirk crawls onto him and with one lift of your chin, you're both kissing and making out like it'll be the last time.

your arms are thrown around his neck immediately, and he's come to love the fact that you're starting to strip away that shy, hesitated act the more these sessions happen.

his hands that were on your hips are now all over your body as he nearly backs your head into the mirror, barely able to plant a kiss on your jawline when the sound of distant footsteps outside pries him away, staring into your horrified eyes at the thought of being caught in this position.

he shushes you, index finger to his lips and drags you away to the nearest stall, his back against the door and you breathing hard on his chest.

a pair of female voices echoes through the room, a conversation you don't really catch because your waist is wrapped around by one of san's arms while his other one travels down the bare of your skin, landing on your ass and squeezing it with a sadistic smirk on his lips.

you would've yelped if not for the current situation, in turn settling for a soft push to his chest that brings out that smile you so much despise because you hate how adorable it is and how dangerous it is on a man like san.

all you hear is the sink running and a few pops like something opening, maybe to reapply their makeups but is it drowned out by san's lips on yours and you at first unsure about making out in a restroom stall, but soon enough, you're gripping at his shirt and forgetting about all consequences.

you don't even realize the two are gone until san pulls away and the quietness of it all confirms it's only you and him again.

"let's take it back to the dorm?"

and you would've impulsively said yes, if not for your conscious serving as a reminder of the existence of your roommate who you came with.

"i want to, but, i came with yuna..."

"i'm sure she'll understand."

you used jongho as an excuse; your partner having gone home and all leaving there nothing to do. yuna didn't seem to mind, head occupied and infatuated with her date.

as soon as you're both off the elevator, his lips is on yours and your hands are running through his black hair, grateful for the late hours that has less students running around the building.

because it would truly be shameful if someone is to catch you two in this state, so high drunk off of lust, the key in your hold struggling to fit from your shaken hand.

but once you get it to open, you're both in immediately and the door behind is slammed shut, your back already touching the sheet of your bed and he's hovering on top once again diving down to kiss you.

his hand is fast to make an appearance under the skirt of your dress, kneading the soft skin of your thighs and traveling to the top of your underwear. you made sure to wear one alike to safety shorts.

while he works your undergarment, you pull at his shirt that rides up his toned abs, but you only make it about halfway before a sound in the pocket of his pants go off.

he ignores it the first time, but then comes the second.

a groan loosely escapes the tip of his tongue, having to break the kiss to stand on his knees, one hand rummaging his pockets.

you sit up with elbows planting the mattress and watch as his once annoyed expression dissipates at whatever is on the screen, his eyes even swelling a bit.

clearing his throat and shoving it back where he got it from, you can sense the change of demeanor, his body language giving away that he now wants to be out of here.

climbing off your bed as you stare with a disappointed sadness in your eyes, he finally speaks the dreaded words.

"hey, beautiful, i uhm... i gotta go." he awkwardly fidgets in his spot when telling you that, looking so out of place.

"oh..." you voice lowly, sitting up and scooting until your legs are hanging off the side of the bed, not bothering to hide the disappointment.

he attempts to put on a smile; try to make all of this hurt a little less, walking forward and placing a kiss on your forehead.

"i'll call you."

and when he leaves, you don't feel any better or any worse. the feeling is always the same; a deep hollow pain in your chest that makes you feel like an empty shell of a person.

why do you keep subjecting yourself to this kind of treatment? a part of you aware to the great possibility that the only reason he asked to come to your place was for this exact reason.

saying he has to go or that something came up is easier to lie about than straight kicking you out. and someone like san always know how to play his cards so he can lessen the blow.

so perhaps it's his adorable smile; the way your heart always flutter at the sight of him, and whenever he talks, you want to listen to him forever.

that stupid ounce of hope you so foolishly hang onto, wishing one day he'll come around because you're even more stupid to have faith in him.

facts about choi san.

1. birthday: july 10th 2. favorite color: purple 3. major cat lover 4. deathly afraid of bugs 5. was on community service senior year of high school

when san called earlier, asking if you can come to his place some time in the late morning, you know it's a bad idea.

you have already set a time and place to meet with yeosang at noon because the second exam is approaching fast, and shortly after, you have to leave for work, your schedule having been moved up the one weekday you don't have any class because your supervisor wants you to experience an actual classroom setting instead of the after school kids you've been watching.

the job proved to be a lot more than just being a teacher's aide, granted you told them you couldn't really work mornings because of being a college student and all.

but you haven't seen him since that night, and his promise of calling having came true filling you with that temporary feeling of joy and excitement, convincing yourself it doesn't hurt to see him for a bit as you rush over to his place.

but when you arrive at the scene, the new sight of his door left slightly opened along with what sounds like feet shuffling around tells you you're not going to get to see san today.

"no, because you're literally always fucking like this!"

you flinch at the sudden high volume of a voice you recognize as it fills san's apartment.

"you bring your shit into my house and i'm always the one who has to clean it up."

and though you've only met him a few times, you know it belongs to wooyoung.

"well, how was i supposed to know that she's friends with yunho and mingi and that you would end up liking them so much?"

the sink in your chest is heavy and the beating of your heart is loud; it's an awful revelation that the topic of conversation is... you.

"you don't. no matter who she's friends with or related to, you don't look at someone and think they're the next pretty little thing you're going to ruin."

you listen in closely, a silence that gauges the air making your breath catch inside your throat at the suspense.

you know it's wrong, but turning back doesn't seem to be much of an option especially when it's about you. it's only a given you'd be nosy.

following the silence is a heaved sigh before there's another round of feet walking in place.

"i don't know what you want me to do? if she didn't want it as well, i wouldn't be doing it."

it's san's voice, shortly followed by a sarcastic, dry laughter from wooyoung.

"that's what you always say, choi. that it's their fault; they knew what they were getting into, when you know damn well what you're fucking doing."

he pauses to catch his breath, not done just yet.

"so either get your shit sorted or stop messing with the girl because the last thing i want is a room full of death stares and resentment because my friend is a grade a asshole. i did this shit for you in high school but i'm starting to get real tired of it."

you don't get the chance to process the whirls of emotion attacking all at once, the direction of the footsteps sounding like they're headed for the door and you just assume the worst--that it's wooyoung leaving, scuttling away before you can be seen.

when you return to the dorm, the first thing you do is text san with an excuse that something came up. you wouldn't tell him you overheard a conversation that makes you sick to the stomach, so many conflicted thoughts running loose.

surely wooyoung would have suspected something (it's not like you guys were that good at hiding it), but you're also not close to him like that, which leads you to believe the outburst had more to do with yunho and mingi than you.

"well, how was i supposed to know that she's friends with yunho and mingi and that you would end up liking them so much?"

and you're not sure what's worse; having one of your friends tattletale to wooyoung to get san off your back, or that one (if not both) of them knew this whole time.

all those excuses and attempts at being discreet probably looked pathetic to whoever knew it was just so you can fall into the arms of a boy who doesn't care for you in the slightest; who lies to your face and messes with your head.

"i don't know what you want me to do? if she didn't want it as well, i wouldn't be doing it."

you're still not in a good headspace by the time you have to meet yeosang, which is literally just an hour after you were supposed to be seeing san.

he's in the far back of the cafe, eyes and nose stuck to a textbook and looking like he's absolutely going to ace this upcoming test.

you on the other hand, is absolutely pissed off your mind the more you keep lingering on it, coupled with the fact that there wasn't even enough time to actually get over it beforehand.

but why couldn't they just talk it out with you first? why did it have to jump straight into telling wooyoung about your business?

and also why the fuck are you not more upset at san? you should be. you need to be. it's evident he planned it all from the start and never really had any good intentions with you.

it's funny how you found all of this out while at his doorstep; maybe the only good thing to have came from it is you didn't end up in his bed (today at least).

but you suppose san being a walking red flag you should stay away from is the equivalent of beating a dead horse at this rate.

the tension is written all over your face when you take a seat across from yeosang, him looking up to quirk an eyebrow.

"hey?"

"hey."

"you sure you don't want to come over here?"

you briefly recall how anal he was about it last time when you sat across, so without further protests, you stand up to go plop down next to him, an irritated sigh departing without much thoughts but it doesn't go unnoticed by him.

"well... okay," he mutters under his breath, wondering who or what managed to tick you off knowing it's not him this time. he's only said a few words so far.

quick to dismiss it because of the limited time, he pulls the neglected laptop into his view, navigating to the school site.

"he made a study guide, we can go over that."

and he really is trying; this being the second time, even gave you somewhat of a proper greeting without any snarks or additional comments, but what bothers him more than your already less than stellar arrival, is your lack of participation.

eyes and ears not even following along and head entirely elsewhere.

mind you, he had to push his schedule back just to come here.

"something wrong? if there's anything bothering you or you have somewhere to be, you can tell me."

"it's nothing."

"sure looks like something because i doubt you heard a single thing."

you knit your brows together, arms crossing over one another as you glare at him.

"blade server: type of server that exists in the form of a single circuit board," you repeat the last term he was going over, even slightly imitating the way he said it.

he chuckles wryly.

"well, you heard one of them at least," he says; some kind of satisfaction that graces the corner of his lips with a faint smirk.

you roll your eyes, moving your attention to one of the paintings hanging on the wall, trying to reframe from bursting because you're still not over what you just heard not even that long ago.

"isn't it tiring?"

your head snaps back to him, confusion overtaking your expression.

"what is?"

"this shy, reserved act of yours whenever you're with others. with your friends, with that guy, san. do they know you're this overbearing in actuality?"

"excuse me?" your voice high in disbelief.

he cocks his head a little.

"or perhaps, that's what it is. you only act like that around guys like san, but someone like me, you're not trying to impress so you don't give jackshit about how you come off."

red on your face, red in your veins, and red under your breath.

"and you don't have an act of your own?" you fire back, somehow managing to find the girl in you who has a voice and definitely some guts, but she who goes missing when it comes to telling san to fuck off.

"pretending to be this nice guy around yunho and mingi, like you're doing a favor by helping their friend when all you do is insult me behind their back."

you stand up furiously, grabbing at your things and sparing him one last glance (that you hope will intimidate him).

"you won't ever have to worry about wasting your time on someone like me ever again."

you don't need mingi or yunho (or both) shielding you like you're an infant still in a cradle, and you definitely do not need kang yeosang blowing up on you when you're just starting to realize how much you hate this fucking computer class and all this technical junk; when everything's already going to shit.

but your whole life has been a load of shit one after another so you suppose it's not entirely out of place.

which is why you ultimately decided that if it's going to turn to shit, it should all just be on the table at this point.

when you show at mingi's door just a few minutes right after you get off work, you know wooyoung is not there. he usually never is. he's always either at his own parties or at one of the five other properties under his parents name.

between the two options, you're more willing to bet it's the one person who actually shares a living space with wooyoung, squeezing yourself in and slamming the door behind before mingi could even get out a simple 'hey'.

he's stunned by the sudden cornering, as expected.

"woah there, missy," mingi coos, that lighthearted tone in his voice you recognize whenever he jokes around--completely disregarding the more serious look on your face.

"did you... by any chance, said something to wooyoung?"

you try to keep vague, for all you know, you just might be overstepping the boundaries and giving your friends too little credits.

wooyoung could've done it even without the push from one of them, but it's best to confirm before digging your own grave.

mingi pulls his brows into confusion.

"like?"

you clear your throat, swallowing down a knot, loathing how much harder he's making this, or if he's just really good at burying his own dirts. it's not exactly out of character for him.

"like--"

the abrupt knock at the door from behind cuts you short, your breath fuming before turning around to open it; the thinning patience not allowing you to consider even for a second who it might be, a small jump in your body when you see it's the other suspect. how convenient.

yunho doesn't say anything and neither does you or mingi. he awkwardly clears the block in his throat and walks himself in through the small space until he's standing tall in front of you.

after you close the door, it's the longest silence you've ever endured in the presence of the two, all your eyes bouncing from one to another before yunho finally speaks.

"did i miss an invitation?"

mingi chuckles, seemingly already relaxed.

"you're not the only one. miss y/n just busted into my room to interrogate me."

you shoot lasers at him and mutters something inaudible under your breath. it could be yunho, but he's usually the wiser of the two and mingi hasn't exactly done anything that makes him less likely--

"it was me," yunho deadpan, both you and mingi shooting his direction so fast.

mingi having no idea what's going on, switches his gaze between the expressionless boy next to him and the enraged look on you.

"why?" you say, so short and simple but the tone is everything but that.

"because i can't bear to watch you keep doing this to yourself. my intuition was right, and--"

"and you couldn't just talk to me?"

"wait, is this about san?" mingi ask, his voice such a contrast to the bubbling tension.

"and if i talked to you, would you have even listened?"

"well, i wouldn't know because you didn't even talk to me. you just went straight into airing my business to his friend."

"it's definitely about san," mingi mutters to himself, his presence completely ignored.

"i just thought that maybe san might listen to wooyoung since they're friends. and that if he stays away, you'll reframe from seeking him out."

it's quiet after that but the air is thick as you two stare into each other with something unpleasant brewing in your chest.

"h-how did you know?"

a low exhale departs yunho before he answers, "it was only a suspicion at first, but then i saw san walking back with you to the dorm that night. and well... you're kind of awful at being discreet."

an eyebrow raise at the confession, your face eventually twisting into distaste.

"you were spying on me?!"

"i wasn't spying on you. it was a coincidence, ask mingi. me and him were coming back from the library because of the campus job i was telling you about."

so... mingi saw it, too.

"yunho... i appreciate your concerns, but, i can make my own choices."

a dry, almost mocking laughter leaves him as he takes a seat at the edge of mingi's bed and stares you down.

yunho isn't an intimidating person; the boy always so nice and easy to talk to, any fights or arguments you guys ever had up till this point has never been this bad. but his gaze right now does make you feel a little small.

"and what is that going to be?" he throws his hands up. "returning to the same person who you know is emotionally unavailable? who won't ever love you the way you really want him to?"

"you talk as if you know him personally..."

you know you shouldn't have said it; defending someone who doesn't deserve it, and well aware there's not a single bone in yunho's body that is capable of harms, but you're so tired of the coddling.

so tired of being looked at as someone breakable.

"no. but i know people like him; guys like him. i know that they will never just magically come around, and most of all, i know that this isn't what you want. you're sticking to him in hope that he'll change his mind, no matter how much you want to deny it."

you've always hated how observant he is...

"then... why do you guys hang with wooyoung, and why is he friends with san? wooyoung is a good person, right? so shouldn't san be, too?"

you're deflecting; it's awful, but it does catches yunho offguard, and even mingi. yunho who was so sure before now mouth clasped tight, because yunho's an honest man, and as an honest man, he doesn't know either.

the couple of times he's met wooyoung, he's aways been pleasant to be around; welcoming of his presence with opened arms and always with a smile on his face to make sure yunho was never left out.

the question asked--more for wooyoung himself than yunho.

"i'm not sure if i can answer that, but, can you promise me at least? that you'll stay away? if not for me, do it for yourself."

you're quiet, shifting to look down at the floor and tracing the pattern when a groan falls from yunho.

"fine." he stands up, his towering height and cold eyes making you feel all sorts.

"call me whenever you actually consider our friendship these last four years instead of whatever you're having with a guy that you just met this semester."

"yunho..." mingi mumbles, disapproval in his tone.

yunho doesn't say anything else, only rushing for the door as he brushes past you before it is slammed shut.

"he didn't mean it." mingi glares at you.

"i know he didn't."

you limp to his bed, taking the seat where yunho was sitting before, still able to feel the warmth he had left behind.

mingi sighs, shaking his head and eventually sitting down with you.

"and i know you don't want to hear this again, but he's right."

as a friend, mingi cares for you. of course he does. but as the boy who found you under that oak tree when you were fourteen years old; as someone who knew you before yunho, before anyone else, he also understands the curiosity you hold for the world; for what else is out there.

you have been deprived of these things almost your entire life, he thinks it's ony natural. so he never tries to be too hard on you when he sees your eyes wander and your nose perked.

he's just always sitting back and watching; observing. yunho and him the perfect contrast to one another because though he may be loud and obnoxious, he tries to stir away from possibly upsetting you. whereas yunho can be a bit overprotective despite his quietness on a surface level.

"i know..." you say, "i just... wish he'd have a little bit more faith in me. i-i can handle it." even you're failing to convince yourself.

mingi breathes out a pitiful look in his eyes, taking your hands into his and locks gaze with you. he's about to get sentimental and you know it. his silly and laidback personality a perfect combination to his more vulnerable side he lets loose once in a while.

"remember the last time you fought with yunho?"

you wouldn't really call it a fight, it was barely an argument, maybe more of a disagreement but aside from this one, that was definitely the most heated you two ever got.

you nod, mumbling in a low volume, "yeah."

"and how angry you were at him?"

"yeah, because he was acting without thinking and i was worried about him."

it was a fight between yunho and minji, at first over something so small but eventually escalating into something bigger.

"i was afraid he was gonna do something he'd regret later."

yunho had spent most of his high school years crushing on minji, always so shy and unconfident, until he finally mustered up the courage to ask the girl out to which she said yes (obviously). and he was gonna throw it all away for something that he probably wouldn't even think about a week from then.

"exactly. because you were looking out for him, and he's just looking out for you, too."

your hands stiffen in mingi's grasp, a sullen look on your face. you also know that.

"look," he says, scooting closer. "i poke my nose in everything, and it's only because i live to annoy you, but in all honestly, i wouldn't ever intrude on your personal affairs. but some days, i still think about how he treated you back at the party."

he goes on, "i was happy at first, him being wooyoung's friend and all. he was also okay when we went out to dinner, but someone who genuinely likes you would not sideline you the way he did."

your mind briefly flashes back to the party, thinking about how hopeful and stupid you looked with that jacket on like a little lost puppy.

thinking about the smirk so fittingly as it rested on his lips when he flirted with your unknowing roommate, using her as leverage to achieve whatever end result he was getting at.

thinking about how you foolishly believed his lie at the time, but overtime seeing for yourself nothing is accidental or coincidental especially in the face of a man like san.

everything is done intentionally and with the purpose to gain; getting you a job and definitely messing with you at the party. he might've even lied on that date with jongho, too.

"and i never asked for anything from you before, but i'm just asking this one time, if you can... please listen to yunho and keep a distance from san."

mingi squeezes your hand, his stance desperate as he awaits your answer.

it takes longer this time around for you to say something, but when you finally do, mingi could've swear he heard it wrong when a quiet "fine" falls from your lips.

"r-really?" his eyes grow in incredulity.

you nod. "if you and yunho are this worried, then i'll stop seeing him."

his chest exhales in relief, the once uneasy expression on him dropping, wondering what prompted the sudden change of mind or if he's really just that good at giving overall sappy speeches.

"oh dear, you got me so scared."

you giggle at his comment, the first time today you're allowed to smile.

he releases the hold on you, backing up a little but gaze having never left, a slight tense in his body language that you know he's going to act on.

"okay, but, can i ask something? and bitch you better not lie to me. we tell each other everything, remember?"

you swallow the knot in your throat, afraid of what he's going to ask and with a feeling it's going to knock your breath away.

"right," you hesitantly answer.

and well... you hate to be correct.

"have you slept with him?"

you almost choked on your own saliva.

"mingi..." you hiss.

"you heard me, bitch. did you guys do the devil's tango?"

you roll your eyes, kicking at his leg lightly and exasperating out loud.

"oh my god, why the hell are you calling it that?"

"oh, whatever. you know what i mean. did. you. guys. fucked?" he crosses his arms.

he can be so sweet and understanding, and then at the same time, go and ask questions like this.

he squints his eyes.

"you know, silence is incriminating. hesitation is damaging, and something tells me you slept with him. not once. not twice."

a small surge of panic rushes in, grabbing at the pillow nearby and smacking him in the face with it.

he winces in exaggerated pain and you toss the pillow back, shooting daggers at him.

"i swear, if you rip that, you're paying for a new one."

"worth it to shut that big ass mouth of yours."

it's a couple seconds before he breaks out into laughter and you follow along with a simple giggle.

"okay but please... can you promise me you won't tell yunho?"

he shrugs, lips quirked to the side.

"what makes you think he doesn't suspect it as well? but sure, i guess. you should really talk to him, though. after this."

mingi plays it cool, a smile on his face and burying that feeling aside that he's just the littlest bit of sad your first time went to someone who doesn't love you.

granted, he's never really cared too much for such thing, always having joked around his parents will end up with no grandkids because he doesn't plan on adopting, either.

but he's always thought that if you were to have it, he'd want your first time to be special. with someone you love, and who loves you the same; your heart always so big and with so much to give.

not someone like san who lures you in with his handsome look and butterflies-alarming words, knowing he never planned to give anything in return except to add to the list of your miseries.

he can't help but feel it is his fault--for leaving you at the party and for ever introducing wooyoung.

but at least now, you will stay away and spare yourself an inevitable heartbreak... he hopes.

you approach the door of yunho's room with cautious steps, hesitation in your appearance because of the one person he shares the space with.

you knock lightly, proceeding to wait and it doesn't take long before it creaks open and yunho is standing before you.

he doesn't look surprised by it, if anything, he looks like he was expecting you to show up at one point. it's just so in character.

you take this chance to sneak a glance past his shoulders, seeing it's in the clear.

"may i come in?" you ask sweetly.

he nods, a hum under his breath and steps aside to let you in.

"i'm sorry," you say, turning to him as his back is to the door. "sorry for acting like a bitch earlier, i know you were just looking out for me. and... i talked to mingi, and i already promised him i-i'll stay away from san."

rather than a sudden change of mind, it was more the realization that you don't need whispered sweet lies or kisses from a boy who doesn't even like you; who always have made you feel so shitty about yourself.

your friends matter, and you're going to listen to them.

that the next time choi san calls or texts, no matter what emojis he uses or what words he will say to get you to come to his place, you're going to ignore him.

next // series m.list

taglist: @sorryimananti-romantic @revehosh @cookiechristie @avantalem @atiny68 @belletiny @shibera @mochibabycakes @justineasian @eastleighsblog @baguette-atiny @crimson-mia @yeosxxx @m4rsluv @sleepychimm @atz-diary @diorwoo @naiify @becauseiloveyunho @damagelove @softie00 @s-nsanshine @atinytinaa @moonseonghwa @lemontreefantasy @wooyoung4eva @yeosangsbiceps @likexaxdaydream @knucklesdeepmingi @barbielibra @tmtxtf @brown88 @harusoraa

#the amount of times i write about someone's eyes #or them smiling #ateez angst #san x reader #choi san angst #choi san x reader #ateez x reader #ateez series #san angst #fic: broken

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mariana-oconnor · 7 months

Text

The Six Napoleons pt 2

Last time many people had plaster busts of Napoleon, which one of the owners admitted had no value. It was very strange.

And Lestrade is getting a bigger role, which I will always support.

For the first time our eyes rested upon this presentment of the great Emperor, which seemed to raise such frantic and destructive hatred in the mind of the unknown.

Do not understand why Napoleon is being referred to with such respect. Historically the British have not had the most positive relationship with the French. It's been super messy. But I guess if you rule enough places in the world and fight enough people then... Victorians thought you were cool? Even if you were French? And some of the people you fought were their grandparents?

This whole thing is strange to me.

Apart from the fact someone is dead. That I got.

“The most practical way of getting at it, in my opinion, is to identify the dead man."

That does seem like an important step in the investigation.

“No doubt; and yet it is not quite the way in which I should approach the case.”

I know that this is because Holmes doesn't think the dead man is linked to the case beyond being there at the time, and he cares about the puzzle here. But I do still believe that identifying the body is important.

"Tell him from me that I have quite made up my mind, and that it is certain that a dangerous homicidal lunatic with Napoleonic delusions was in his house last night. It will be useful for his article.”

Don't give my favourite character a false lead, Holmes!

"Let us make for Mr. Morse Hudson, of the Kennington Road, and see if he can throw any light upon the problem.”

This time I will not be taken in. Those are both surnames. I am sure of it!

"Disgraceful, sir! A Nihilist plot, that's what I make it. No one but an Anarchist would go about breaking statues. Red republicans, that's what I call 'em."

How times have changed! It's definitely the republicans who smash the statues of military dictators. Lolol.

"Do I know that photograph? No, I don't. Yes, I do, though. Why, it's Beppo. He was a kind of Italian piece-work man, who made himself useful in the shop. He could carve a bit and gild and frame, and do odd jobs. The fellow left me last week, and I've heard nothing of him since".

The 'no, I don't, wait, I do' is very realistic. I appreciate that. And clearly Beppo is a bad guy here. He just left his job right before all of this started to happen. He's either on the run from our Napoleonic Bust Buster or he is the Bust Buster himself.

"...we came to a riverside city of a hundred thousand souls, where the tenement houses swelter and reek with the outcasts of Europe."

So it's an immigrant area. And it's a shitty place to live. Surprising absolutely no one.

Their wholesale price was six shillings, but the retailer would get twelve or more.

Maths time

I believe that should be approximately £60 RRP per bust. So that doctor spent the equivalent of £120 on busts of Napoleon that were destroyed.

Sucks to be him, I guess.

The work was usually done by Italians in the room we were in.

Ooh, where did we last see an Italian? Or not see him, actually, because he had mysteriously and suspiciously disappeared a few days prior.

Beppo, what have you done?

"Beppo was his name—his second name I never knew. Serve me right for engaging a man with such a face."

Excuse me?

Oh, this is the guy that Watson compared to an ape, isn't it. Oh good grief. Seriously? I'm kind of on Beppo's side right now. Sure he killed someone, but you're clearly a dickhead. In fiction, the second one is definitely a worse crime.

If you weren't conventionally attractive according to Victorian values, you just died, I guess.

"No, I have never seen this face which you show me in the photograph. You would hardly forget it, would you, sir, for I've seldom seen an uglier."

People really need to stop saying things like that. If I were Beppo and I had to put up with that constantly, I would have knifed someone in the street, too.

"His name is Pietro Venucci, from Naples, and he is one of the greatest cut-throats in London. He is connected with the Mafia, which, as you know, is a secret political society, enforcing its decrees by murder."

The fact they have to explain what the Mafia is. 😂

And it should be noted, that Lestrade is at least also on the Italian path through his investigations. Yes, he's ignoring the busts, which is strange, but he's definitely sniffing up the right kind of tree.

I assume that whatever was hidden in the busts after the infamous knifing of June 3rd has some connection to Mr Venucci.

“Is a very simple one. I shall go down with Hill to the Italian quarter, find the man whose photograph we have got, and arrest him on the charge of murder."

OK, now he has skipped out a number of steps in the 'proving Beppo committed the crime' process.

Lestrade, I was rooting for you!

"I can't say for certain, because it all depends—well, it all depends upon a factor which is completely outside our control."

All the best plans rely on things that are completely outside of your control. I assume Holmes' plan is to lie in wait at the house of one of the other bust owners and hope that Beppo didn't find what he was looking for in the last bust he smashed.

For my own part, I had followed step by step the methods by which he had traced the various windings of this complex case, and, though I could not yet perceive the goal which we would reach, I understood clearly that Holmes expected this grotesque criminal to make an attempt upon the two remaining busts, one of which, I remembered, was at Chiswick. No doubt the object of our journey was to catch him in the very act...

It seems like you do, in fact, perceive the goal, Watson. The goal is to catch the criminal in the act. You don't perceive the criminal's goal, which is an entirely different thing.

I was not surprised when Holmes suggested that I should take my revolver with me. He had himself picked up the loaded hunting-crop which was his favourite weapon.

How does one load a hunting crop?

Oh... it has a steel core.

Well that doesn't seem very nice.

But I suppose neither is a revolver.

#Letters from Watson #The Six Napoleons #Sherlock Holmes #long post

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beetlebug-bii · 1 year

Note

Heya, first of all im sorry for that terrible joke i made in the comment section xD

I'd like to request a Solomon x Reader

I'm a sucker for him and can't find good ffs or more like not much of him TT

Scenario:

Song to listen to if you want too

( hammock - then the quiet explosion)

So I've been thinking of a scenario where MC is kind of annoyed from the brothers always near them and clinging on them, so that they have no privacy.

Solomon ( who has a crush on them) sees that the reader is exhausted and takes her to a quiet place to rest with him ( the rest is your imagination)

I loved the joke so much lmaooo

Alright this is my first one in a long while so please cut me some slack! I did my very best so I hope you like it! O7

How To Cure Depression (Solomon x GN!Reader)

You

Cannot

Serious

This is the third time this week

THE THIRD TIME THAT YOU HAVE WALKED INTO YOUR OWN ROOM TO HAVE IT BE IN SHAMBLES

IT IS TUESDAY!?!?

HOW IN THE WORLD

IN A HOUSE THIS BIG

IS YOUR ROOM ALWAYS THE CENTER OF ATTENTION

OH THATS RIGHT

BECAUSE EVERYONE WHO LIVES HERE BREAKS IN

AND THEY START FIGHTS WHEN SOMEONE ELSE DOES THE SAME THING

You just

Cant

Take it anymore

Lucifer is always critiquing your organization and how clean the room is

Mammon is always stealing your stuff

Levi and Satan are judging your interests all. the. time.

Asmo steals your clothes for selfies

Beel gets food on the floor

and Belphie messes up your bed at least six times a day

Why do they always have to do this

They have their own rooms

Why cant you?

you are so sick of cleaning up after their mess

so tired of always having to mediate fights

and that's why you're here you suppose

You couldn't even handle being in the house to listen to their excuses anymore

So you came here

The courtyard of the Royal Academy of Diavolo

It's the only place you can even feel like you can breathe right now, and even now you're struggling to keep the tears in

You close your eyes and take a breath, your head resting on your knees

Theres a nice breeze today…

It smells like flowers almost…

You can feel the sun shining on your skin too…its so warm…you missed that feeling…

Wait a second

aren't you underground right now?

Why is there a breeze??? Even if there was a breeze, why does it smell like flowers??

And there definitely shouldn't be a sunlight feeling??

Finally taking a moment to look up, you lock eyes with the one and only shady wizard

You almost want to sigh

There goes peace…goodbye peace…you will be missed…

But the way he's looking at you is…different

He's missing his signature smirk that always seems to be plastered on his face

Instead it's been replaced with something slightly softer…kind…

"Hey" he took a few steps forward

Leaning down next to you, and wiping a teardrop from your cheek

"...hey…" you said back, still unsure

Solomon sits beside you, leaning against the large stone wall hiding you from the rest of the world

"What happened?"

And with that

You broke

You cried on and on and on

Sobbing about how overwhelmed you were, how nothing you did was good enough, how exhausted you were all the time

You really hadn't meant to

But by the end you were just a bundle of tears

You were expecting a comment on how small your problems were

or maybe even a laugh because what did you expect? They ARE demons after all…

What you weren't expecting

Was Solomon gently taking your hand

And whispering a slight follow me

Gently he led you deeper within the courtyard, getting ever so slightly lost between the hedges

"Close your eyes" he said, with a slight smirk

and in that moment you werent sure if you should trust him

On one hand, he has yet to bully you

On the other, you might commit homicide if he starts now

You sigh and close your eyes

After a few moments of absolutely nothing happening you open them

And poof the wizard is gone

Are

You

Serious

He led you into what is basically a hedgemaze and then left!?

You huff, more annoyed now than you were before

You could go commit arson

You could ask diavolo so politely

He would probably say yes ri-

AAAAAAAA

you let out a short scream as a hand shoots out from within one of the hedges

You can hear Solomon laugh slightly from inside

oh you motherfu-

The hand grabs you and pulls you in

After being yanked through the bushes, you find yourself in a small cove…

Flowers filled the ground, and the grass was so soft….and there was sunlight- how?

"Where…" you whispered, still a bit awestruck

A place like this definitely shouldn't exist in the devildom…

"This is a little piece of home" Solomon explained, while taking a seat on the soft ground, "I made it with an illusion spell of sorts…I come here when things get difficult"

You gently sat next to Solomon

Taking it all in

Who knew the shady wizard had a soft side…

Solomon pulled your head down to his lap, one hand gently running through your hair while the other pulled out a book

He softly began to read

"I don't trust stairs…they are always up to something"

…huh

"Where do ghosts become pilots?...fright school"

…no

"Why did the cookie go to the doctor? It was feeling crumby"

…you were going to kill him

…but maybe later

You laughed and gently swatted Solomon's book of "1000 dad jokes to cheer up people with depression"

How sweet of him

Solomon laughed and poked at your cheeks

you really were beautiful when you smiled

Not that he could say that of course

…not yet

He wanted to savor this moment by your side for just a bit longer

Just the two of you

Safe in your little bubble

Away from the rest of the world

Solomon gently pet your hair until you fell asleep

Watching with a gentle smile

Before placing a small kiss on your forehead

He would give the brothers a piece of his mind later

#obey me #obey me scenarios #obey me headcanons #obey me imagines #obey me solomon

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bre-meister · 9 months

Text

One Normal Night

I've finally done it. The Mafia AU that I talked so much about and then never posted. I hope it lives up to your expectations

He’s taking too long, she thinks. He must be up to no good. And on tonight of all nights. He’d promised! She scans the overly fancy restaurant and manages to flag a waiter down.

“Excuse me,” she says politely, “have you seen my husband?”.

The waiter pretends to not know who she’s referring to. She’s not surprised. He seems young - a good kid trying to keep himself out of trouble. Buttercup wasn’t falling for it though. Everyone knew the Jojo family in this town and she was going to get her answer.

“It’s ok,” she promises with a smile, “he’s just been gone a while and I wanted to check on him.”

The young man hesitates again before letting her know Butch has slipped out through the back door in the kitchen. For a moment, her face sours. She plasters her smile on quickly though, not wanting to send the wrong message to the waiter. She thanked him again before asking for the check. Buttercup made sure to leave him a generous tip.

The transition from the candle lighting of the dinning room to the fluorescent lighting of the kitchen was a bit jarring. Buttercup had to blink several times to adjust. She noticed several of the chefs looking up to see who’d joined them in the kitchen but no one said anything to her. They all know who she is, and wouldn't risk incurring the wrath of her family.

She makes her way to the back of the kitchen. There was a circular window on the back door most likely for those working in the kitchen to see who is trying to get in.

She silently curses her short stature as she tries to peer through the window then thanks whatever part of herself had the wherewithal to wear heels tonight. Without them she certainly wouldn’t have been able to reach. Even with the heels she has to stand on her tiptoes to see a decent portion of the alley outside. Sure enough, she sees her husband out in the dark. As well as a few other men who seemed to be holding something… or someone down.

She steps back from the window and pulls her cell phone out of her clutch. Buttercup sends a quick text to their driver to pull the car around in a few minutes and braces herself to head out into the cold night in just her short, black dress.

“Butch!” She yells as soon as the door is shut behind her.

The massive wall of a man she calls her husband pauses his wailing on the collapsed figure.

“I told you to wait for me inside,” he says without even bothering to look at her.

He sounds irritated and Buttercup isn’t particularly happy with his tone. She decides to remain civil though, play her cards wisely lest the night ends with them in a full screaming match. That’s not how she wanted tonight to end and Butch was in full Baron of Berserk mode.

“You promised me you wouldn’t do this tonight, that we could have one normal night!” She hates how whiny she sounds but Buttercup knows this is the fastest way to get the results she wants.

“Buttercup-“ his tone is warning but she doesn’t let him finish.

She crosses the alley quickly, throwing herself onto his arm.

“Clearly it’s handled. They don’t need you anymore. Just take me home, Butch. Please!”

He’s avoiding looking at her face. The guy on the ground has started moaning in pain but he’s smart enough to stay down.

“Let me-“ he tries to start again but Buttercup is having none of the excuses,

“No! No more ‘just wait for me’ or ‘let me finish’. You’ve already sent a message, let’s just go home!” She’s less whiny and more forceful this time.

He huffs and shakes her off. For a moment she’s scared that he’s going to ignore her and keep going. Instead, he walks over to retrieve his suit jacket he’d ditched earlier. He places it around her shoulders and suddenly Buttercup realizes she’d been shivering.

She wraps it around her closer and reveals in his forestry scent as it envelops her. He guides her to the opening of the alley and they walk around the front of the building to their awaiting car. He opens the door for her and helps her in. She tells the driver to take them home as he walks around the car to get in himself.

They’re both silent on the drive back, neither wanting to be the first to speak. Butch is typing away on his phone - most likely sending instructions for clean up as well as updating his brothers and fathers. She makes plans in her mind to send someone to the restaurant tomorrow to retrieve her jacket - a black fur coat that Butch had gifted her on their anniversary a year ago. It was her favorite and she wants to make sure she gets it back from the coat check undamaged.

Looking out the window she tries not to shed any tears at the mess this night had become.

When they get inside, he heads to the kitchen to wash his hands in the sink. She goes to the couch to take her shoes off.

“When we met I told you what being with me would look like,” his voice is quiet and they still aren’t looking at each other.

“You said you didn’t care. You said you understood, you accepted the risks and the sacrifices - “

“I still do,” she interrupts.

“Then what the fuck was that, Buttercup?”

“You don’t understand. I accept the risks I take on the sacrifices every day, Butch. I asked you for one night. One night! You promised me and you couldn’t even keep your word.” She’s yelling. This isn’t what she wanted at all.

Buttercup moves from the couch to look out the large, floor to ceiling windows. Their penthouse had a great view of the city and its people below. The Jojo family may have been at the top of the world as far as this city is concerned but Buttercup has never felt more alone. She hugs herself tightly and pulls Butch’s jacket closer. The tears fall and she doesn’t try to stop them.

“If I’m so clueless as you claim then please explain. Enlighten me on what’s so damn important that you had to pull a stunt like that in front of my men?” He’s yelling too.

She mumbles a response and he can’t hear her.

“What?”

He moves from behind the kitchen counter and crosses the room. He’s close enough that he could touch her if he reached out but he doesn’t. Instead he stands there and eggs her on until she’s had enough. She turns and, now facing him, she yells,

“I’m pregnant!”

Silence. His face is beyond shocked and Buttercup can’t stand watching him like that so she turns around again and looks out the window.

“You’re… I thought you said you never wanted kids?”

“I don’t- didn’t?” She says it like it’s a question. “I don’t know, okay? I didn’t want them before and you didn’t either and everything was perfect. Then your dumb work started taking you away more and my sisters are busy with their own lives and my dad won’t talk to me anymore because I chose you and I just… I don’t know.

“It was an accident. I guess maybe my birth control failed or something but I’ve just been so lonely and I thought that maybe this was a sign. That maybe this is what I need. And maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if we had a kid because just maybe it meant you’d spend more time with me - or us I guess. And I wanted one normal night tonight so I could tell you but you just had to go and ruin it and now I’m even more lost. I don’t know what to do.”

“Buttercup, I’m so sorry. I didn’t think… I mean I guess I got so wrapped up with everything I never realized. How can I make this right?”

“Be honest with me,” she tries drying her tears with the sleeve of his jacket until Butch gently turns her around and dries them for her, “do you still love me? Do you want to be with me, to have this family with me?” He looks genuinely surprised again.

“Of course I still love you. There is nothing that could ever stop me from loving you, not even death. Everything I do is for you. So I can give you the life you deserve. Make it worth you walking away from your family for me. I never meant for you to feel this way.

“Maybe it is time we started our own family. Make a fresh start. I’ll get my brothers to start taking up some of their own slack. I can’t promise you something like tonight won’t ever happen again but I can promise that I’m going to make an effort.”

“That’s all I want.”

“Good. Because all I want is you. Well, and this baby.” He places his hand over her stomach. “I didn’t even know this was something I wanted but now that I do… I’ll never let anything come between our family. I swear.”

When they finally kiss it’s with a reverence and love that Buttercup feels she’s been missing for so long.

“Let me take you to bed,” now it’s him who pleads, “I want to make up for everything. Show you how much I want you.”

She barely gets her response out before he lifts her into his arms. He spends the rest of the night worshiping her body. He spends extra time on top of her kissing the skin under which lays her womb, carrying a mix of both of them within.

When he’s finally done, they lay in bed together, her securely wrapped in his arms. He asks her questions and she patiently answers each one.

“How far along are you?”

“Almost three months but I’ve only known for one. I wanted to tell you sooner but I wasn’t sure of how I felt or what I was going to do and when I decided you were so busy…”

“Three months? I’m so stupid I can’t believe I hadn’t noticed sooner.”

“It’s ok,” and she means it, “I did a good job of hiding it. Besides, you’ve got six more to make it up to me.”

“And I will. I promise.”

They talk some more and share a few slow kisses in between questions.

“Who else knows?”

“No one other than my doctor. I wanted you to be the first. I might tell my sisters soon. They said they wanted to come visit in a few weeks.”

“When do you want to tell my family? I know you don’t get along with my dads the best but it is their first grandkid, they’ll probably want to spoil him.”

“Him?” She laughs.

“I don’t know. Call it a fatherly instinct.”

“Sure…” she trails off for a moment, “what if it’s a girl?”

“Then I’ll be just as happy getting to spoil a little princess.”

They laugh together. Throw around ideas of a family dinner to tell his brothers and fathers at the same time - no interruptions of course! The mood dips when Butch asks his next question,

“Are you going to tell your dad?”

“You know he doesn’t talk to me.”

“I do but… this is different. It’s a big

deal -“

“So was our wedding!” She’s sitting up in the bed now, “and he wouldn’t give me away. He wouldn’t even come! Brick had to walk me down the aisle. If my dad hates me so much I don’t even know if I want him in our child’s life.”

She’s crying again and Butch sits up too to comfort her.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked. You don’t have to decide anything any time soon but maybe you should think about it. I mean, at the very least he’s going to hear about it from your sisters and I think it would be best if he heard it from you.”

“Ugh, I hate it when you’re right.”

He lies back down and pulls her with him so her head is resting on his chest.

The topic is changed to something lighter and they talk until Buttercup falls asleep. Lying there in the dark Butch looks at her features and thanks whatever god might be listening that he was lucky enough to find a woman like her and he prays that he’ll be worthy and strong enough to keep her.

#ppg greens #ppg fanfic #butchercup #ppg butch #ppg buttercup #my writing #mafia au #i have a mini prequel to this if ya'll wanna see that too

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demcnsinmymind · 1 year

Text

@griim gets a plotted starter!

Just great. Things had been going so smoothly until now. He's almost gotten used to his new reality. Pretending not to be there. Not talking to people. Fading into the background for a while. Making them think that he's a lost cause - just so he can have a little me-time. Fucking recover from everything he's been through in peace and in his own time.

But of course.

Sooner or later, something had to happen. Not something, someone. The new one. This woman. Going off the regular schedule. Being outside her room in the dead of night, pulling the very same tricks as him. Sneaking around in the dark. Hell, it almost makes him laugh. How she's even in the same spot as him at the same time. His secret hideaway.

Trying to get out.

Just like him. But much bolder. Faster. Probably not wiser.

It's not like he can go back to his usual routine now. With her. Playing the part that's plastered all over his file. Permanent brain damage. Requires fulltime care. Severely diminished cognitive abilities. Too bad that he's standing in front of her right now. Walked in on her. Is looking right at her. Obviously lucid. Capable of thinking. Reacting to whatever it is that she's trying to do here. So after a moment of tense, uncomfortable silence, Lance decides that fuck it, he might as well drop the act entirely and just talk.

Shoving his hands into the pockets of his bathrobe that is supposed to keep him warm but looks oh so fucking ridiculous, the former TV host lets out a soft sigh, fully enters the room and looks around in it almost casually.

"You know that's not gonna work, right" he mutters, pointing at her and her attempt to escape. Then he points past the window she's trying to get through, over to the left.

"There's a night watch post over there with some guys who keep an eye out 24/7. And on the other side they got some CCTV cameras. Can't really see it from here but trust me, they're aware that this is a blindspot. They're expecting you" he explains, walking over to the window so he can lean against it and have a look outside.

"They usually don't let patients out into that yard so no one really knows about security there. But they've taken me out on a stroll every now and then. So I've seen it all more than once. Pretty sure they've stocked up on security, now that I think about it" Lance goes on, only to give her a soft snort and shake of his head.

"On paper, they're saying that being out in the big yard with all the other's too exciting for me and that I need a 'calm' outdoor spot instead. Coded shrink talk for 'let's use the braindead Preston guy as an excuse for a long smoke break and the latest gossip from the ward.'"

Soon enough he's laughing, albeit somewhat bitterly.

"Too bad I can still think and see just fucking fine. So really. I know what's waiting for you out there. Don't bother. It's pointless. Trying to get out this way."

#griim #gemma tag pending #verse tbd

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invisibleraven · 2 years

Note

Taking a work break to request some prompts lol. 91, peterpatterlina?

Reggie hummed as he fixed his hair, shooting his reflection a wink and some finger guns before leaving the bathroom. "I'm heading out!" he called to his roommates.

"Where you going Reg?" Luke asked, barely glancing up from where he was scrawling out lyrics in his notebook, the words slightly jumbled from the guitar pick he had held between his teeth. His girlfriend Julie draped herself over his shoulders, gently easing the pick out and kissed his forehead, Luke sending her a besotted look.

Reggie tried to keep his face neutral, despite his aching heart at seeing them together. They were so perfect together, and he had to valiantly ignore the way his lonely desperate heart longed to be theirs as well. "I-I'm going speed dating!" he finally stuttered out.

"Speed dating?" Julie asked, straightening up.

Reggie nodded, plastering a false smile on his face. "Yeah, my therapist wants me to try putting myself out there after... well after everything. So I thought this would be a quick and efficient way to meet a bunch of people, maybe get a few numbers, and if not, at least I got myself out of my comfort zone for an evening. Don't wait up!"

Julie and Luke waved at him but both their faces fell as soon as the door closed behind him. "He's going on dates Jules. Dates!"

"He is allowed mi vida, he's been single for awhile," Julie commented, sitting on his lap and ruffling his hair. "You know how hard that last relationship hurt him, and if Dr. Butler thinks this will help..."

"But he should be with us," Luke whined.

"We've talked about this hun," Julie said, her voice soft and soothing. "He has to be ready to be in a relationship. Speed dating might just be the first step down a long road. We can wait for him to come to us, because if we come on too strong..."

"We might lose him for good," Luke finished. "I know, it's just... Julie I love Reggie so much! And you!"

"I know Luke, I love the both of you just as madly. But we don't even know how he feels, so we have to be patient." Julie turned his face to hers, pressing a kiss to his lips. "Trust me."

Only Reggie didn't return until late, heading straight for bed once he got in, and would only shrug about how the speed dating went when asked. So Luke and Julie figured it had only gone okay, and Luke suggested maybe hinting to Reggie that they were an option. Julie was a bit more hesitant, but she caught sight of Luke's pleading eyes, and then of Reggie sitting at the table, looking at them and quickly looking away, so she agreed.

Luke serenaded him with a song, getting in close to ask him his opinion on the romantic ballad. Close enough that Luke could feel the burn of his blush and had to hold himself back from seeing how it would feel against his own skin. "I-it's real nice Luke, I'm sure Julie will love it!" Reggie had stammered, and quickly made up an excuse to dash off once more.

Julie even tried making him his favourite Star Wars shaped waffles as a bribe to get more out of him, but he just gave her a small smile, and all she could do was wipe the syrup away from the corner of his mouth. Reggie's eyes widened at the touch of her finer, and swallowed heavily. "T-thanks for breakfast Julie, I've gotta...go." With that, he scurried away from the table, leaving Julie confused.

It was well established in the band that if anyone had a date, not to schedule it for gig nights, which is why Luke was confused when he saw Reggie getting ready to go out when they had a show in less than an hour. "Reg, where are you going?"

"Oh, I'm going to go pick up my date! This girl I met at speed dating wanted to come see our show, and hang out after, so I'm going to go get her, and I'll be at the venue in plenty of time."

"B-but..." Luke trailed off as Reggie waved and booted it out the door. "JULIE!"

The woman in question ran out of their room, eyes wide with panic. "What? What is it? Is there a mouse? Because you know I don't do mice."

"No! It's Reggie! He's going on a date! Like a real life date!"

Julie tilted her head to the side, a little confused. "But it's gig night."

Luke ran his fingers through his hair in a frantic motion. "Exactly! He's bringing her to the show! This is serious Jules! What if she's like the one or something?"

Julie brought Luke into an embrace, her touch instantly soothing him. "We knew this could happen mi vida, we just have to accept that the time isn't right."

Luke shook his head. "No, fuck that, I'm going after him. I'm going to tell him how we feel, and then we can give up." With that he shoved his shoes on and held his hand out for Julie. "Well, are you coming?"

Julie nodded, sliding on her own shoes, the two of them taking off running. They were panting as they made it to the parking garage, but Reggie's trusty ride was still there, with no sight of the bassist. Only to catch sight of him sitting on the beach across from their building, his favourite place to go.

"Reg!" Luke called, rushing over to him.

Reggie turned, surprised to see them. "Luke? Julie? What are you guys doing here?"

“Don’t go on that date.” Luke panted out, grabbing Reggie's hand.

“What? Why?” Reggie asked, letting Luke's fingers intertwine with his own.

“You know why corazon,” Julie whispered, taking his other hand in hers.

“Say it. I need you to say it, otherwise I'll assume I'm dreaming this," Reggie said, stepping closer to them. "I've had this dream before you see. But I always wake up at this part. So say it, and I'll know it's real."

Luke and Julie stepped in closer, so close that their racing hearts could be felt by Reggie, his own pounding in sync. "We don't want you to go on that date Reggie, because you should be going on a date with us. You should be with us," Luke said.

"We love you Reggie," Julie added. "We're in love with you, and we want you to be with us, if you feel the same way."

Reggie was quiet for a long, aching moment, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. His eyes were misty, but when he finally looked at them, they were radiant, his smile breaking forth and making his whole face light up. "I-i love you too. Both of you. Honestly I only went on that stupid speed dating thing to try and get over you. But it didn't work."

"And your date tonight?" Julie asked.

Reggie's eyes widened in panic. "Oh shoot! Gimme a second, I gotta go take care of that." He pulled out his phone, frantically texting, and once he received a reply, slipped the phone back into his pocket. "Okay, that's done. Now I'm all yours."

Luke grinned, "I like the sound of that." He pulled Reggie into a deep kiss, almost dipping him backwards in his passion. Reggie meeped into it, but gave back as good as he got, if the dazed look on Luke's face was any indication when they pulled apart. Julie then pulled Reggie to her by his necklace, and found out for herself as Reggie's kiss took her apart; a lush, swoon worthy kiss that made her lips tingle and her foot pop.

Reggie was grinning as he pulled away from Julie, looking well kissed and smug, but he figured he was allowed. He had just landed his dream people, and kissed them enough that they still looked shell shocked. "Come on, we have a gig to play, and then tomorrow, you two are taking me out on a date."

Julie grinned, taking his arm in hers, Luke on Reggie's other side, the three of them walking off towards their home, finally together, just like they were supposed to be.

And if Reggie's 'date' for the evening turned out to be his visiting MeeMaw, who absolutely adored Luke and Julie, well, they figured they could forgive him for bending the truth, just a little. It all ended up like it was supposed to after all.

Now all they had to do was find a date to knock Reggie's socks off. But given the way all three of them were starring adorably at one another during every moment they could during the show, none of them had any worries about their date being anything less than a foregone success.

#filled prompts #ficlet #rukebox #peterpatterlina #julie and the phantoms

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5sosxqueen · 1 year

Text

Luke Appendicitis

< Part 1 , ~Part 2~

I totally kept up with the updates last week... 😅 Welp, I'll be posting three today. (All Luke. Hope you guys like him!)

Warnings: surgery, hospitals, minor descriptions of the surgery

Written in 2018

Published (Wattpad) - Jan 28, 2018

Word Count: 1628

Updates are every Tuesday and Thursday

Also Available on Wattpad and AO3!!!

Part 2:

Michael's POV:

"SOMEBODY HELP US!" I was the worst kind of mess as I carried a, seemingly lifeless, Luke into the ER, Aston, Matt, and Calum not far behind me. "PLEASE, WE NEED MEDICAL ATTENION!" A couple nurses instantly ran over with a gurney and told me to lay him down.

"One of you needs to tell us what happened." One of the nurses told us while the other looked him over. Luke was beyond pale with a hint of green to his face, a sheer layer of sweat that glistened in the lighting, semi dried blood plastered onto his face and shirt, and his was hair disheveled.

"He's showing signs of appendicitis. I've had it... But I noticed he has redness and swelling on the left side of his abdomen, rather than the right. How is that possible? I thought the appendix is always on the right." Ashton informed them. The nurse checked Luke's stomach and sure enough, it was just as he had said.

"Ok we need to get him back right now! Page Dr. Moore." One of the nurses anounced to the other as rhey rushed him into the back. We were told to have a seat in a private waiting room and wait for his prognosis.

We had been really quiet for what seemed like forever. 10 minutes later I spoke up through silent tears. "Do you think he's going to be ok. I don't want anything to happen to him..."

"He will be fine Michael. Remember Ash has been through this as well and he's fine." Calum said wrapping me into a hug as I quietly sobbed into my hands.

"I'm so scared Calum... He looked so lifeless." I could no longer hold it in, I was bawling loudly by this point. He started rocking me back and forth slightly. I felt Ashton throw his arm around me and Matt's gental touch on my shoulder.

"It's ok to be scared Mikey, but he will be ok. Just breathe buddy." Matt cooed. We all stayed in that position until we heard a familiar name being called.

"Family for Hemmings. Are you guys here for Hemmings?" We all nodded. "Ok, are all of you his brothers?" Once again we all nodded. "Very well," he said with a smile. "Well we have confirmed your suspisions on it being appendicitis, but Luke also has something called Situs Inversus. Now, there are two subtypes of this disease. There is one called dextrocardia, which is where a persons organs are a complete mirror image of that of a you and I and there's another one called levocardia, which the heart is on the left, but the other organs are reversed, which is what Luke has. Depending on whether or not his appendix has burst, he could be in surgery for 30 minutes to a couple of hours. He will need to stay here for a few days to recover, however if it has ruptured he could be here anywhere from 1 week to a month, depending on whether his body develops an infection. We need one of you to sign these consent papers to perform the appendectomy." Matt reached for the papers and signed them before handing them back. The doctor nodded, rapidly retreating back into the double doors.

Another nurse came out and led us to another waiting room. We had been talking for a while and after 30 minutes had come and gone, we we're getting really worried. "It's been 45 minutes..." Calum stated looking at us with clear worry on his face. "You guys think it ruptured?"

"Unfortunately, I think it's highly likely, but it's also only been 15 minutes so we can't fully go based off of that speculation." Ashton reminded him. Another 15... "Shit." He said looking at his phone.

"So more than likely, his appendix did rupture." I added and everyone agreed. "I'm going to go see if there are any updates. I'll be back." I walked over to a reception desk nearby. "Excuse me, I'm not trying to be impatient, but it's been an hour since my friend has gone back for an appendectomy. Have you heard anything?"

"What is his name sir?" The attendant asked me.

"Oh sorry..." I smirked at my forgetfulness. "Luke Hemmings."

"Ohh... I thought I recognised you... I just didn't want to jump to conclusions." She said happily. "Oh, um, it says here that his appendix has ruptured. He's still in surgery Michael."

"Damnit... Ok thank you ma'am." I said with a sigh as I walked back to the eager boys.

"Any news?" Matt asked, beating the other two boys to the punch.

I sighed. "It's not good... His appendix did rupture. How long has it been now?"

"It's only been about 5 minutes... So an hour and 5 minutes since he's gone in." Calum explained. "Well would anyone like something to eat or drink? It's about to be 7:30am."

"Yes please, coffee and surprise me." I said. I don't normally drink coffee, but since I've been up since around 2am I need it desperately.

"You know what I like Calum, thanks." Ashton said, slowly falling asleep on Matt's shoulder.

"Just a coffee for me, thanks Calum. We will let you know if we bear anything." Matt responded.

Calum walked out of the waiting room and went down to the cafeteria while we sat in wait. Calum came back up after 20 minutes. "Matt, here is your coffee. Michael, I brought your coffee and a chicken salad for you."

"You trying to tell me something, huh, Cal-Pal?" I chuckled out giving him a huge grin.

"No, shut up Michael." He said playfully smaking my arm. "Ash, I brought you a parfait and a coffee. You look like you could use some as well." Ash nodded and we all thanked him once again. We ate our probable brunch within 10 minutes.

"It's almost been 2 hours guys. He should be out soon." No sooner than Ashton saying that, the man we assumed to be Dr. Moore reentered the room and appeared before us.

"Hello guys, I believe I hadn't properly introduced myself earlier. I'm Dr. Moore." He shook all of our hands. "So I'm not sure if you had heard, but Luke's appendix had ruptured. The laparoscopic appendectomy had taken much longer due to massive amounts of puss that we had to clean before we could suture the incision. He is in recovery now and you may see him, but you need to be wary of his stomach for a while. He is asleep for the moment and when he wakes up we will move him to a private room for observation. Now if you folks will follow me..." He turned around and started walking toward the double doors. He led us back to the post-surgery room and we all gathered around Luke cautiously and waited for him to open his eyes.

"Mmmmn..." Luke slowly opened his eyes and started looking around. "What- what happened?"

"Your appendix burst buddy." Ashton told him.

"So they cut me open..." He said making a disgusted face. "I feel so violated." Luke was still very loopy from the anesthesia. It made all of is chuckle.

"How do you feel though." Matt asked rubbing his hand through his hair.

"Very happy..." He said making the goofiest face. I covered my mouth turning around and busted up laughing, nearly falling to my knees from lack of oxygen. He turned to Calum. "What's funny Cally poo?" He was confused about my laughing, but his nickname for Calum only made me die. My damn sides hurt like hell.

"Boy, do I wish I had my camera..." Ashton said wiping a tear that was escaping his eye from cracking up. "This is gold... Oh my gosh... Huh. Glad to have you, somewhat, back Lukey."

"I think we should try asking him when he's a little more alert. What do you guys think?" Calum said through a teethy grin.

"Definitely." I said as I gained composure.

"I'm tired guys." Luke said as his eyelids started drooping.

"Go to sleep bud. We will be here when you wake up." He nodded and instantly fell asleep. I felt the sting of tears in my eyes again. I pressed my palms into them.

"Awe Mikey, what's wrong?" Calum walked over to me and threw an arm around me.

"He's going to be ok... I'm just so thankful he is alive. I was so worried." Everyone came over to me and enveloped me in a hug.

"We told you he'd be ok Michael." Ash said rubbing my hair.

Luke woke up an hour later and looked at all of us. "Hey bud, how are you feeling?" Matt asked again.

"I feel a bit sore, but my stomach no longer feels like it's being torn open... What happened?"

"Well that's ironic isn't it? You had your appendix taken out." Ashton said.

"Oh. So you were right then. Well I'm feeling a lot better now. How long do I have to be here?" Luke asked just as Dr. Moore walked in.

Luke ended up staying in the hospital for a week with no infection. He was almost back to his perfectly happy, healthy self, he was just a bit sore from the surgery. The stitches we're removed before leaving the hospital. He was really excited to get out and eat pizza and perform for his fans once again.

"Hello Luke, I'm Dr. Moore." He shook Luke's hand. "I can answer your question on how long you will be here. Since you had a rupture, you are going to be staying here for at least one week under observation. We will be checking your temperature periodically along with having you hooked up to telemetry. Hopefully you don't develop any infection." Luke nodded and soaked the information in. "Now that you are awake we can get you into your room so you can rest." We we're all able to walk with them as they transferred him to his room. Luke was already starting to fall asleep on the way there.

#5sos #5 seconds of summer #luke hemmings #michael clifford #ashton irwin #emeto #calum 5sos #vomit sickfics #ashton 5sos #michael 5sos

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addythelarrie · 2 years

Text

Once In A Lifetime

Intro // Part 84

Harry sighs heavily when his eyes falls on the house where he's been spending most part of his free time over the last couple of weeks. He had reasoned that it would be best to come and see Jen today- it's the only day Louis won't be here seeing that he doesn't work over weekends unless he's on call, and next week is out of the question as he'd be working the shifts he missed this week.

With slumped shoulders and teary eyes he starts making his way up the cobblestone path for what he believes to be the last time. A bright bouquet of flowers in one hand and the dreaded photo of Louis that started this whole mess, in the other.

He's decided that he will go and talk to Louis on Monday. He'd try and fit the conversation into his lunch-break. He's been moved to a medical ward, but he'll ask his new unit manager, Sister Arleth to excuse him if he runs a bit late- knowing that the conversation they'll end up having will be a bit loaded and there's no doubt in his mind that Louis will have questions. Questions he needs to, or rather wants to answer truthfully. That's the least he could do, he's told himself.

With his eyes cast down, he makes his way up the stairs, blinking a few times as he tries to will away the tears that are currently threatening to spill.

When he reaches the top, he only stares at the door for a few moments. Silently contemplating whether he should knock or just leave the bouquet and photo at the door and go back to Purva's where he'll write a letter and ask her to drop it off once he's left. You're no coward, Harry! He mentally chastises himself while stepping forward. He quickly wipes over his eyes with the back of his hands and then leans to the side to press the doorbell.

The door swings open the moment his finger leaves the button and he's left facing the man he's been trying to avoid since Wednesday night. His heart sinking at the sight of his face- two blue eyes and a plastered nose. He looks tired. And Niall thought he didn't hit him hard enough. Harry feels like hitting Niall right now. He swallows thickly.

"Hi." Louis breathes out.

"H- hi." Harry replies, his eyes wide and he swallows hard once more.

Harry doesn't know for sure how long they only stare at each other, but his mind is racing as is his heart and again he can't decide if he wants to leave or stay and get this over with.

With Louis here instead of the hospital he could kill two birds with one stone or he could stick to his original plan, wait a few days and talk to Louis at the hospital, a public place where he's sure the doctor would more likely try and keep his cool in front of other people.

"Are those for me?" Louis asks while eyeing the flowers in Harry's hand- effectively pulling the nurse from his thoughts.

Harry shakes his head. "They're- uhm- they're for Jen." He answers, watching Louis nod his head in understanding.

"Nan and the girls went to London for her sister's birthday." Louis replies. "I can put them in a vase if you want to leave them?"

"Yeah." Harry agrees, nodding his head. Seems like he'll write a letter after all.

"Okay." Louis says when taking the flowers. "They're lovely. She'll love them." He adds with a small smile and Harry can't stop his tears from falling. He knows she'll love it. She'll make a big fuss over a simple wildflower if it's given to her by someone close to her heart. And well, Harry would like to believe that he's one of those people, and that if he truly showed remorse for his selfish actions, Jen would forgive him just like she would if it was one of her own grandchildren.

"I've been trying to get a hold of you." Louis starts speaking again, causing Harry to lift his head and meet his eyes once more.

"Yeah." The nurse breathes out, sniffling. "I'm sorry." He adds before pursing his lips, slowly shaking his head.

Then it's quiet again. It looks like Louis wants to say something, but he doesn't. He only stares at the nurse, his brows furrowing before he speaks. "Are you feeling alright? You look a bit pale." He finally says and Harry imagines hearing a hint of worry in his voice.

"Yeah." Harry nods his head. It's a lie. He's feeling anything but fine. He's nauseous most of the time and when he thinks about everything too long, he imagines feeling his heart ache. But that's not something Louis needs to know.

"What's that?" Louis then asks, his eyes fixed on the piece of glossy paper in Harry's hand.

"It's uhm-" Harry pauses and looks down at the photo, wincing when he looks back up to meet Louis' eyes. You're here now Harry. Might as well get it over and done with. "Can I uhm- can I come in? We need to uhm- we need to talk. I can explain." He says, flipping the photo to reveal it to the doctor.

Louis only stares at it for a few moments before nodding and stepping aside, making way for the nurse to enter.

"Thank you." Harry breathes out when Louis closes the door behind him, immediately reaching for his phone when the device starts vibrating in his pocket. "Sorry, let me just get this real quick." He adds and answers the call without waiting for an answer from the doctor.

Louis eyes the younger man as he talks to who he presumes is Purva.

He won't admit it, but it hurts seeing him taking calls from others when he's been calling the nurse at least three times every hour for the past two days and not once did Harry answer. Not once did he reply to the tons of messages Louis had sent. Hell, the last time he checked, they were all still unopened.

And sure he understands why. His decision to allow his insecurities to cloud his judgement was not one of his finest moments, especially since everything has been going so well with Harry. But if Niall had just given him an opportunity to explain himself instead of calling out his name and punching him the moment he turned around, then none of this would have happened.

Louis gives the nurse another once over. He seems different. He can't really put his finger on what it is though. Maybe he's just tired. Yes. If his red rimmed eyes are anything to go by, Louis would say that he's definitely tired and ultimately he feels like shit for being the reason Harry's currently in the state that he's in.

But then again, at the same time he finds it just a little bit ridiculous since they weren't even officially together. In hindsight he understands why Niall would think they were, but surely Harry would have corrected his friend if the Irishman actually made an effort to find out before going around, punching people for no reason really. Okay, maybe it's not really no reason. Maybe Louis needed that punch more than he would ever care to admit. Which is the only reason he's decided not to press charges against the Irish fellow... Who's he kidding, he wouldn't do it even if the guy broke more than just his nose. He's still Harry's best friend... and Shawn's boyfriend, although he's not exactly sure what it is that his best friend is so hung up on... but mostly because the guy is Harry's best friend, and if this fiasco taught him anything, it's that Louis would rather suffer from ten broken noses than do something that would cause the junior nurse to be unhappy. Not when all he wants is to see Harry happy.

Alas, Harry is here now, and although he didn't initially come here to see Louis, but rather his grandmother, the doctor can't help but feel a little relieved that the nurse himself suggested they talk. That's all he wants, really. To talk. To listen. To tell Harry that he's an absolute idiot. But given the fact that he's had two days to think about what he's done and the nature of their relationship, he's an idiot who's lost his heart on the green eyed nurse without even knowing it.

"Sorry about that." Harry apologizes when he hangs up.

"No worries." Louis replies, giving him a small smile. "Can I make you a cup of tea?" He offers. "Was about to make myself one when I heard your car-door."

"Oh." Harry breathes out meeting Louis' eyes again. "You saw me coming?" He asks, his cheeks taking on a pink shade at the mere thought of Louis watching him contemplate for God knows how long if he should ring the doorbell or not.

"Ha. No. I got here just as you rang the bell." Louis answers, setting his mind at ease and the nurse lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding.

"Oh." Harry says again, nodding his head. "Uhm- yeah- okay- uhm, I'd like one, thank you." He adds, watching Louis smile- clearly pleased with his answer.

"Good." The doctor replies. "Do you wanna talk in the sun-room?" He asks, nodding in the general direction of the most loved room in his house.

"Yeah." Harry agrees. This way you get to see it one last time before Louis inevitably chases you away for good, he thinks to himself.

"Wanna head on over there? I won't be too long." Louis simply says, smiling when Harry only nods his head and starts making his way to the room.

The last thing Louis expected when Harry asked him to please listen and give him a chance to explain before he said anything, is for the nurse to come clean about a lie he had told his friends a few months ago and how a photo Harry took with him in the heat of the moment ended up directly implicating him in said lie which in turn lead to the situation they're currently finding themselves in.

How he wanted to come clean to his friends about it, but when things started to change between Louis and himself, Harry just kind of left it- hoping that things would eventually work out in his favour.

He stopped counting after the seventh time Harry said he was sorry, but he's sure that if he'd continue, he would have ended on well over thirty times. The only thing occupying his mind right now is how badly he wants to silence the nurse with a kiss.

Harry willed away tears so many times and refused any comfort while he told his part, but Louis couldn't care less about his confession though. All he wants to do is hold the younger man- tell himthat everything is going to be alright, he hasn't held him in two days and Louis can safely say that these have been two of the worst days he's had in such a long time.

"So yeah." Harry says, pulling Louis from his thoughts. "Again, I'm so sorry for dragging you into this mess." He finally adds before looking up for the first time to find Louis only staring at him, a soft smile adorning his face and Harry wishes he knew what was going on in the doctor's head. "Louis." Harry says after a few moments of silence.

"Yeah." Louis answers, shaking his head a little.

"I said I was sorry." Harry says again, his brows furrowed as he waits for Louis to say something. Anything. Yell at him even. Do something. Literally anything but stare at him the way he currently is.

It's quiet for another few moments and Harry starts moving around awkwardly on the couch.

"So you took a photo?" The doctor says, shrugging like it's no big deal.

"Stole it." Harry corrects him softly. "I'm sorry." He whispers again.

"Harry." It's a piece of paper, it literally has no value, so don't be so hard on yourself, yeah." Louis simply replies and Harry hates that Louis can't stop smiling. He hates that he wants Louis to shout at him about how disappointed he is in him. But most of all, he hates the fact that Louis remains calm after everything he's just told him, sure of the fact that the doctor does not fully comprehend what he's done- that he's the reason Louis has a broken nose and two swollen eyes.

Louis on the other hand is trying to find the right words to tell Harry that he now understands the reason behind Niall's actions, that he doesn't blame him for what he did, that the Irishman didn't do anything but knock some sense into him. That Harry should stop saying he's sorry, because the way he sees it, he's the one that should be apologizing. He wants to tell Harry that he's sorry for ignoring his feelings and that he wants nothing more than for the simple lie Harry told to become a reality.

Harry gives it a few more moments before he finally speaks again. "Right." He says when getting up. "Maybe I should go and we can talk about this on Monday, at work. I'll uhm- I'll come to your office during my lunchtime." He adds, running his hand over the back over his neck, shaking his head as he eyes the doctor who's only staring at him- still no words leaving his mouth.

Another few seconds pass before Harry decides to finally leave. He's not sure what he's expecting anymore, but the way Louis only stares at him is kind of bordering along the lines of creepy right now and he's not going to lie- it's scaring him just a little.

"Okay, yeah." He says, taking a few steps back. "I'm gonna head out now, and I'll uhm- I'll see you on Monday, yeah?" He adds while making his way towards the door.

"Is it true?" Louis finally speaks and Harry stops to turn back around.

"Is what true?" The nurse asks, not entirely sure what the doctor is hinting at.

"That you're in love with me?" Louis replies when getting up from the couch and making his way towards the younger man.

"What?" Harry breathes out, replaying their conversation in his head- pretty sure he didn't let it slip that he's in love with Louis.

"Niall- when he uhm-" Louis speaks again, gesturing to his face. "He said that you're in love with me-"

"Does it matter?" Harry cuts him off, laughing bitterly at his own rhetorical question, throwing his hands in the air. "You'd apparently fuck anyone but me, so-" he adds, shrugging as he leaves the rest of the sentence hanging.

"Because that's me, Harry! At least I thought it was." Louis replies, shaking his head as he takes another step towards the nurse."For years I've allowed myself to have meaningless sex with people. It's what I do. No strings attached-"

"Please stop." Harry cuts him off again. "Just stop." Niall was right, the rumors were true and Harry feels stupid for allowing himself to fall for someone who thinks having sex with different people just for the sake of it is okay, while he sees it as the most purest, most intimate bond two people could share.

"But with you Harry-" Louis starts talking again. "With you there are strings. There are feelings. Feelings that I haven't felt or allowed myself to feel in over seven years and it fucking scares me." Louis admits, taking another step forward until he's standing right in front of the nurse. "It scares me fucking shitless because I don't want to lose you too. I can't." He chokes out, tears he didn't even realize he was holding back, now freely running down his face. "So yes. It does matter because I'm so fucking in love with you and I don't know what to do." He manages through broken sobs.

"Me! You talk to me!" Harry fumes. "You don't go around fucking out your frustrations with the first person willing to spread their legs, because of your inability to communicate!"

"I didn't fuck her!" Louis exclaims. Happy to finally set the record straight but still disappointed in himself for allowing it to even get this far.

"Niall heard you! He heard you moaning from outside that fucking linen room-"

"Niall heard me moaning?" Louis cuts him off. "Great!" He exclaims, flailing his arms in the air. "Did he hear me moaning your name? Did he hear the slap across the face I got because of it?" He fires out the questions through tears. "I haven't had sex in over two months, and-"

"I literally offered myself to you on a silver platter Saturday night, and you told me you weren't ready!" Harry shakes his head. "Only for you to be ready to fuck someone a few days later. That's just fucking great for my self-esteem don't you think?"

"Harry, I didn't- I mean I was going to, just to prove to myself that I am in control of my own emotions, but I'm not Harry. I'm not." He shrugs, shaking his head and swallowing hard. "The truth is, I'm so helplessly consumed by you and the person you are, that for me, everything now revolves around you. And I'm so sorry it took me this long to realize, but it's the truth." He chuckles bitterly. "I mean, I couldn't even get it up without thinking about you." He adds while gesturing to his groin. He winces when Harry only stares at him, his eyes narrowed while he waits for Louis to continue. "And even though it scares me, I can't go another minute without telling you that I'm hopelessly in lo-"

"Did you kiss her?" Harry finally asks, figuring that since sex meant nothing to Louis but kissing somehow did, he'd know if the doctor was being serious right now.

"No." Louis answers confidently. "Besides my family, you are the only person I've kissed in seven years." He shakes his head, pursing his lips as he thinks of what he wants to say next. "You're the only person I want to kiss, now and forever." He adds in a whisper, swallowing thickly when Harry only shakes his head.

"I-"

"I'm in! Both feet Harry. I'm in. My heart, my head, my... everything- I'm in." Louis breathes out.

"What?"

"If you'd just give me half a chance Harry, I'd show you that I mean every single word I've just said."

Harry feels like crying right now. Like admitting to Louis that he feels the same. Like leaping into the doctor's arms and connecting their lips in celebration, but he doesn't. Instead he mumbles "I'm leaving Doncaster next weekend." While slumping his shoulders.

"Please don't." Louis finds himself close to begging as he takes the younger man's hands into his own. "Please." He repeats, slowly shaking his head.

Harry mimics the doctor's movements. "I've already resigned." He states firmly.

"Harry." Louis breathes out. "If your resignation is your only worry, I can promise you that Liam would be the happiest man alive if you ask his to rescind it." He adds, his eyes not leaving Harry's for a split second. "If you are worried that I'm not being truthful right now, then I can only hope and pray that me giving you my word will be enou-"

Louis gets cut off when the lips he's grown to love finally meets his and he wastes no time in pulling the nurse closer by his waist, deepening the kiss when Harry wraps his arms around him.

"I'm in love with you too." Harry admits breathlessly when pulling away only for Louis to capture his lips again in a soft, languid kiss- a silent promise to prove to the nurse that he meant every word.

Louis locks his phone and gets up, sending the younger man a soft smile when the latter brings his phone up to his ear. He gives him a peck on his cheek, enjoying the way Harry leans into him a little, before leaving the room and making his way to his bedroom.

If Harry agrees to stay tonight, they're having an early night and if Purva's really about to call his bluff and tell Harry to go back- well then he'll be ready to pack a bag and go back with him. Either way- he's not spending another night without the green eyed nurse in his arms.

He moves towards his bed and falls down face first- wincing when his nose hits the bed and tears immediately starts pooling in his eyes at the stinging sensation. His arms resting on either side of his head as he replays this afternoon's events in his mind.

They've spent most part of the afternoon talking, kissing, cuddling. Louis can't remember when last he's felt this light- like a weight has been lifted from his shoulders. But at the same time, he also can't remember the last time he cried this much. Well, that's a lie. He knows exactly when, the only difference is that this time around his tears were caused by an overwhelming feeling of happiness. Mostly.

He smiles when Harry's words "I'm in love with you too" clearly rings through his mind again and he can't keep his tears from flowing once more.

"Purva says she's working the late shift and afterwards she's going out with some friends, so she doesn't mind." Harry chimes up when stepping into the bedroom- moving to take a seat on the bed next to Louis.

"Good." The doctor mumbles into the duvet.

"You're crying again." Harry notes.

"Hurt my nose when I fell onto the bed." Louis replies with half a truth.

Harry leans down, lightly pecking the bridge of the doctor's nose. "Better?" He asks, smiling when Louis mumbles a barely audible 'yes'. "What do you wanna do?"

Louis gets up and immediately starts undressing. Harry swallows thickly- wondering if he should do the same. They've not really discussed their relationship status this afternoon and as much as he really wants Louis to take him and make him his, he'd rather they discuss it first this time around.

"Can we just sleep." The doctor finally speaks when moving to his side of the bed and Harry lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding. "I haven't slept at all in two days." He adds when getting into bed.

"Yeah." Harry is quick to say. "I haven't had much sleep either." He admits while getting up and taking off his own clothes.

Louis watches him. Smiling softly as he patiently waits for the younger man to finish. His brows furrowing the slightest when he notices Harry's skin tone seems different from what it usually is, but chugs it down to his tiredness and the bad lighting in the room.

Only when Harry gets into bed and Louis pulls him closer does he notice something else that's different. "Have you lost weight?" He asks sleepily.

"Haven't had much of an appetite lately." Harry answers with a shrug. "Felt sick whenever I ate." He adds, and unties his hair when he feels Louis breathing into his neck, smiling when mere seconds later the breathing turns into little puffs of air and he knows Louis is fast asleep. He takes a few moments to replay the day's events in his mind, smiling happily by the time sleep finally overtakes him.

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#larry smau #larry stylinson #once in a lifetime #smau #addythelarrie #louis and harry #larries #larry is literally real #larry is real

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kpostedsum · 3 years

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high | d.m

summary: you find an unhealthy way of coping after draco cheats on you

warnings: drug use (marijuana) angsty¿, cheating, illusions to sex

song: habits - tove lo

a/n: this fic isn’t meant to romanticize drug use in any way. i also know nothing abt weed so LOL and very rushed & not edited

masterlist | taglist

I eat my dinner in my bathtub

Then I go to sexclubs

Watching freaky people gettin' it on

It doesn't make me nervous

If anything I'm restless

Yeah, I've been around and I've seen it all

you had a few minutes left of your charms class which was your last class before the weekend. you wanted nothing more than to get out of here and cuddle up with your boyfriend— who was enjoying his free period right now.

draco was one of the best boyfriends you could ask for, the frequent dates, gifts, and attention— it was more than you could wish for.

“you’re excused. you essays are due at the beginning of next week” snapes monotone voice dragged on as you quickly packed up your things and made your way to the slytherin common room.

I get home, I got the munchies

Binge on all my Twinkies

Throw up in the tub

Then I go to sleep

And I drank up all my money

Days get kinda lonely

entering the slytherin common room your eyes immediately searched for a certain blond boy, yet he was nowhere to be found. you made your way to the boys dorms in hopes of finding him there but you’re quickly interrupted by two familiar voices.

“why hello y/n, marvellous weather we’re having today aren’t we?” theo asked looking towards the ceiling and smiling as if he were outside, blaise blocking your path as he did so.

“i’m not sure what weather you’re talking about since we’re inside but i am okay thank you” you responded with a chuckle, trying to make your way past blaise.

“wait y/n” he stopped you. “can i borrow the astronomy notes? i would ask luna but i can’t find her anywhere” blaise continued.

they both seemed awfully on edge and anxious, you figured it was just quidditch nerves getting to them since there was an upcoming game this week.

“i have yet to finish my astronomy notes, but i did see luna in the great hall if you want her notes. now if you’d excuse me i’d like to see draco” you said trying to push past the two boys who still wouldn’t let you through.

“forget malfoy! let’s do something instead, we’re so much more fun than him, right blaise?” theo said giving blaise a pointed look as he threw his arm around your shoulder.

“right you are nott, let’s go!” blaise continued also throwing his arm around your shoulder and leading you away from the boys dorm.

“what? no, i have plans with draco. now excuse me” you said pushing them both off and heading towards dracos door.

as you get closer to his door you can hear heavy breathing, pants and skin slapping on skin. you’re confused, you figured draco would be taking a nap or running over drills for quidditch practice. the closer you get, the louder the noises become.

“pans, you feel so good”

you recognize that voice anywhere.

You're gone and I gotta stay

High all the time

To keep you off my mind

Ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh

High all the time

To keep you off my mind

Ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh

quickly you turned your head towards blaise and theo who had their heads lowered in shame, refusing to meet your gaze. “is this some kind of sick joke, are you guys pulling a prank or something because this isn’t funny” you said seriously not wanting to believe what you’re hearing from inside of your boyfriends dorm.

“we’re sorry, we tried to convince him not too but he wouldn’t listen” theo muttered silently.

it felt like your world was breaking apart slowly. just not too long ago you were excited to spend a weekend with your boyfriend who you loved so dearly, the same boyfriend who you’ve been dating for years, the same boyfriend who gets jealous about how much time you spend with his mum rather than him.

with shaky fingers you put your hand on the door knob and quickly pushed the door open, already preparing for the worst.

there he was, wrapped up with parkinson in the same bed you two shared not even twenty-four hours ago. her body straddling his naked, just like yours was doing the night before. you stood there frozen, mouth agape— not even knowing what to do with yourself.

“baby, i can explain, just please— y/n please don’t leave” draco said pushing pansy off of him, shuffling on his pants and reaching out towards you.

“dont touch me, malfoy!” you yelled and everyone froze. “you lost the right to touch me the minute you even thought of touching her” you continued sending both him and pansy a glare with tears threatening to slip from your eyes.

“darling please, i can explain—”

“no draco, we’re done just leave me alone, please” your voice cracking at the end as you pushed past blaise and theo rushing towards the girls dormitory.

Spend my days locked in a haze

Trying to forget you babe

I fall back down

Gotta stay high all my life

To forget I'm missing you

Ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh

it’s been days since you last left your room, days since you last saw draco. daphne would come by and check on you but you’d always dismiss her, wanting to be alone. regret is one word to describe how you’ve been feeling— you gave him everything and he threw it away so carelessly for a quick hook up.

you missed waking up against his smooth skin in his embrace, tracing the lines and scars across his porcelain skin as you waited for him to wake up, the way he’d try to kiss you in the morning without brushing his teeth and you wouldn’t let him because of morning breath— but he’d still do it anyways.

you missed him, but he didn’t want you anymore.

maybe it was something you’ve done, you’ve been quite busy with work recently so you haven’t been spending as much time with him as normal. he was probably lonely and trying to seek the attention you lacked to give him.

getting up, you stared at yourself in the mirror picking yourself apart. you were pretty, it was a well known fact around hogwarts, maybe he thought she was prettier. she was the life of the party and always up for some mischief whereas you preferred to do stuff in silence and would rather be with a small group of people. maybe he liked how exciting she was in comparison to you, she probably brought a spark of excitement to his life that you couldn’t.

dreading to feel something you quickly showered and got ready to leave your room hoping to run into a specific set of twins.

Pick up daddies at the playground

How I spend my daytime

Loosen up the frown,

Make them feel alive

I'll make it fast and greasy

I'm on my way to easy

“well what can we do for you today” fred said to you with a cheeky smile plastered across his face.

“do you have any muggle herb left?” you asked in a low voice making sure no one heard you.

“maybe we do, maybe we don’t” george said. “how much are you offering in exchange though” he continued.

“ten galleons for three ounces, is that enough” you said pulling the galleons out of your pockets and placing them in george’s palm.

“it was a pleasure doing business with you” they said in unison as fred placed the tiny baggie in your pocket so no one would see.

once you returned to your dormitory you quickly pulled out the pre-rolled muggle herb, lit it and let yourself forget.

You're gone and I gotta stay

High all the time

To keep you off my mind

Spend my days locked in a haze

Trying to forget you babe

I fall back down

Gotta stay high all my life

To forget I'm missing you

you started showing up to class late with red tired eyes, not caring about the looks you got. at this point every one knew what had happened but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

the muggle herb brought you a sense of bliss and freedom, a new feeling you haven’t felt before but something that you now craved.

“are you high right now?” draco said as he sat himself in the seat beside you.

“since when do you care about what i’m doing” you said sharply, not wanting to talk with him.

“love, you don’t smoke. who gave that stuff to you, i’ll kill them—”

“no you won’t.” you said turning towards him. “you won’t do any of that because you don’t own me and i’m not your girlfriend anymore. so mind your business malfoy, i’m sure parkinson’s waiting for you”

the rest of the class you both sat in silence working on potions that draco did most of since you weren’t in the correct mind state and he wasn’t willing to let his mark falter over your slip up.

you find it amazing how even when you’re on drugs he still looks amazing. the way his nose curves perfectly with a slight bump, and the way his hands move with caution as he pours the potion into the waste bucket.

“look, i’m sorry for what happened with pansy. it didn’t mean anything i swear, i don’t know why i did it but i regret it with my life” draco said breaking your thoughts, he looked older than normal and had dark circles underneath his under eyes. you wondered why he looked so distraught when he wasn’t the one who got cheated on.

“a sorry isn’t going to fix this draco” you told him. he knew you were right but he didn’t want to admit it. he hadn’t talked to pansy since the day you walked in on them, the guilt has been eating him up inside. he stayed silent and didn’t bother respond to you, he knew anything he said would have made the situation worst than it already is— but how he wished you were still his sweet y/n.

“now if you excuse me, i have some fun to attend too” you said leaving him alone as you made your way back to your dorm.

Staying in my play pretend

Where the fun, it got no end

Can't go home alone again

Need someone to numb the pain

You're gone and I gotta stay

High all the time

To keep you off my mind

over the last few weeks, you couldn’t remember the last time you were sober. you started skipping classes to smoke and avoiding your friends so they’d stop questioning your habits.

you were forgetting and that’s all that mattered, you didn’t care how it was affecting your health— it made you feel better. sometimes you wished there was another way, another way to forget how he held you at night pressing soft kisses to your skin, another way to forget the way he took pansy the same way he took you. you wonder if he feels as sorry as he looks, he’s the one who cheated so he can’t possibly care that much.

you hear two knocks at your door which quickly break you from your state making you more attentive, cleaning yourself up and opening the door. there stood draco— his eyes red as well, like hes been crying.

“y/n listen, i know what i did was wrong and that i tried to pretend it wasn’t me but please. i didn’t mean too, you mean the world to me. i miss you so much love.” he pleaded with you.

“y’know draco, i miss you too” you admitted. “but i’ve found a way to forget about you, maybe you should do the same”.

Gotta stay high all my life

To forget I'm missing you

taglist: @mauvea @teenwolfbitches28 @ilygw @nic0lodean @s1ater @henqtic @justreadingficsdontmindme @i-love-scott-mccall @harmqnia @gwlvr @alishahpotter

#draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy #draco malfoy fluff #draco malfoy smut #draco fuckingmalfoy #draco malfoy angst #harry potter #draco lucius malfoy

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ethan-torchio-angelo · 3 years

Text

Oh, love

Summary: It takes a year of trial and error, of love and heartbreak, for the two to finally realize there's no one else they'd rather be with. Or in which she becomes they're photographer for a summer tour and falls in love with the dark haired drummer.

Word Count: 10.3k

Warnings: swearing, angst, sexual content

A/N: I just want to say a huge thank you to @ethanesimp for proofreading and hyping this fic up, thank you so much amore! This is the first piece I've written for any of the members of maneskin, and also the longest thing I've ever written! Feedback is greatly appreciated!

January

It’s a call in the middle of the day that begins it all. She’s been in a shoot all morning, running around snapping photos of a wanna-be teen idol. She’s been here many times, being hired to do promo shots for someone who never makes it farther than this. But this call, she knows it’s different. She’s heard the name, seen some videos, she knows this won’t be like the rest. She’s instructed to clear her schedule for the week and to be in Rome by the end of the day.

The cold air hits her as she leaves the building, suitcase and camera bag in hand. This is the moment she’s been waiting for since joining the company, the chance to become a permanent fixture instead of hopping from gig to gig. She’s told that they requested her specifically, that one of the band members saw her collection from a festival last summer and was dead set on booking her for their summer tour. It’s all new to her, the feeling of being the first choice and not second best. She barely hears anything that’s said on the plane by their manager, too busy trying not to freak out.

It’s only a few hours plane ride, but it feels like a lifetime. Thoughts run wild in her head as the seconds tick by, she can’t remember the last time she’d been this excited, or nervous, for something. She’s greeted by more people from their team as she steps off the plane, and is quickly ushered to the villa they’ve been staying in. She barely has time to process the beautiful new city she’s in before she’s hidden by walls of an even more beautiful place.

They give her time to relax and unpack, but clear instructions to not leave the property without security. Things have been crazy, she’s told, since their winning last year fans have become more clever with their tactics. She laughs at some of the stories, but heeds the warning all the same. She’s seen quite a few things that have shaken her to her core, so she knows to be careful and wary.

Music floats through the halls and into her room, the band practicing on the other side of the villa. The music fills her veins with a feeling she can’t quite place, but it’s a welcome humming that gets her blood pumping. She grabs her camera and follows the melodies, laughing at the jokes thrown around in english whenever someone messes up. She angles herself behind a corner just right where she can take pictures while still being hidden from the band.

Her heart races at the scene in front of her. It’s a family like she’s never seen. They all seem to orbit around each other, pushing and pulling each other into their atmospheres. She watches Victoria dance around the room, bass in hand, strumming the lines to an old song. Thomas lays on the floor with a notebook reading off words, Damiano repeating them as he draws on eyeliner. And Ethan, who sits at his drum set, twirling the drumsticks in his hand as he observes the scene before him.

She captures picture after picture of their dynamic, taking the most of Ethan, who seems to have a magnetic pull to him. She only pulls herself from the moment when she’s spotted. “Sai, qualcuno chiamerebbe questo strano comportamento.”

The words are warm against her ear, and she jumps at the unexpected presence. She turns around, laughing to hide her embarrassment, trying to translate the words in her head. She freezes when she sees it’s Ethan, trying to figure out when he slipped away from the rest of the group.

“Ah, niente italiano. Er, it’s unusual, what you are doing.”

Another nervous laugh leaves her lips, “Sorry. I didn’t mean to be creepy. There’s something about the way the group is when no one is watching, it’s hard to ignore, it needed to be captured.”

He smiles at that. It’s soft and warm and she feels as if the world has stopped spinning. A song plays between their hearts as a silence falls over them. There’s a beauty about him that makes it hard to focus on anything but him.

A series of crashes followed by loud curses in Italian breaks the spell that they were under and Ethan pulls himself away from her to go and manage his friends. She uses this moment as an excuse to slip away and tour the rest of the house, ending in the kitchen where dinner is being prepared. She snaps a few photos of the chefs cooking, already envisioning the blog post they’ll go along with.

When everyone has made their way to the dining room a toast is made; to new adventures, to new friends, and to family. Sweet wine and light rain makes the time pass faster and the evening flows into night easily. The group parts only moments after midnight, long days ahead calling them to catch up on sleep now.

The month flows by with days and nights blurring together. It seems the studio is really the only place they call home, spending every waking moment in the room that houses their instruments. She stays with them through the long hours, snapping photos of the weird things they get themselves up to. Her hard drive slowly fills with collections of each band member, ones for the public eye and ones she sends to them to make them laugh.

The end of the month brings a party, something small to celebrate sold out tour dates. A night out to a local bar and far too many drinks. She dances with Victoria, who has become her best friend in the few weeks she’s been with them. Damiano and his girlfriend are not far away, but much more caught up in their own world. Thomas has disappeared somewhere, no doubt warming someone's bed for the night. But through all the commotion, she can’t stop watching Ethan.

He’s sitting at a table nursing the only drink he’s had that night, planning to take on the role of babysitter at the end of the night once everyones had too much to drink. He drums his fingers on the table, following the beat of each song that plays. He seems lost in his own world, content with being by himself. She moves away from Victoria, who easily finds another partner, and makes her way to the table.

“Sembri solo,” the words fall from her lips quietly as she takes a seat beside him.

He smiles at her, “Seems your little lessons are paying off.”

She blushes at that, not realizing he’d picked up on her daily lessons with their English tutor. “Only enough to not seem like a tourist.”

A small chuckle escapes his lips, and she wishes she could bottle the sound.

“But don’t change the subject. Tonight was about having fun, celebrating a big accomplishment. Yet you’re sitting here alone.”

He sighs at her insistence, “Sometimes we don’t need to celebrate everything so publicly.”

Something pulls at her heart. She can’t imagine having such a public life, but she understands how it must feel to never have anything to yourself. Before she knows what she’s doing, she places a hand on his arm and gives it a reassuring squeeze, a light tingle shooting between the two of them.

She pulls her hand away quickly, a small blush forming on both their cheeks. He offers her a small smile to make the moment less awkward, and she returns it.

The night ends not too much later, the rest of the crew having decided that warm beds would be much more comfortable than the crowded bar. She helps Ethan herd their friends home, laughing along with him at their drunken antics. Victoria jokingly calls them mom and dad as they help her to bed, and the blush that was plastered on her face earlier that night makes a second appearance.

It’s almost morning by the time she makes it to her own room. Ethan isn’t far behind her, realizing for the first time tonight that they share the same hallway. “Buona notte,” comes his voice from down the hall.

She turns to face him, catching herself stuck in his stare. She can’t quite place the look in his eyes, but it gives her butterflies all the same.

“Buona notte.”

February

February brings more time in the studio and less time outside the walls of the Villa. While winter in Rome is not like the ones you’d experience in colder places, it still brings a chill to her bones. She steals one of Victoria's sweaters after a night spent lounging under the stars, a small break from a busy schedule.

A fire had been lit and a bottle of sweet wine was making its way around the group. She’d set her camera aside for the evening, planning on enjoying a night without the calls of work. She doesn’t know when it happens, but suddenly she’s swaying to a drunken beat in the arms of Damiano who can’t stop giggling at her two left feet. The man had not believed her when she said she couldn’t dance, but was now biting his tongue as they moved around the courtyard.

As the night seemed to come to a lull, a game of truth or dare was proposed and all were in agreement. She finds herself sitting beside Thomas on the floor as Victoria begins the game, a stupid dare aimed towards Damiano that earns him a new haircut. The night drags on in a flurry of laughter and silly dares. By midnight half the group is wearing someone else’s clothes, and the others have barely any on.

She’s moved to be sitting by Ethan, who has an arm casually draped across her shoulder. It shouldn’t feel so electric, his skin touching hers, but it does and it’s the only thing she can focus on. Her heart feels like it’s almost beating out of her chest and the blush on her face isn’t caused by the alcohol in her system.

Damiano is the first to notice her situation, and starts poking fun at her whenever it was his turn to ask her something. It started off innocent enough, small questions aimed towards her love life, but it soon caught the attention of Thomas who was the first one to issue a dare towards the girl. This was how she’d ended up sitting beside Ethan, cuddled into his side. Ethan was oblivious to the things going on around them, until Victoria dared her to kiss him.

It seems as though time stops, the laughter fades and the silence becomes deafening. She turns towards Ethan, a mixture of panic and excitement painted on her face. He smiles at her, “We don’t have to, amore.”

“A dares a dare.” She shrugs at him.

A round of cheers raises up around them as the two lean in. It’s meant to be only a small peck, something good enough to count in the eyes of those around them. But as she goes to pull away his hand reaches up to tangle in her hair and he pulls her closer. Their lips meet again without any hesitation and it’s like the world lights up around them. Blame it on the alcohol, but if she were to die right now she’d be happy.

They pull away a second later, a small laugh leaving both of them, chests rising at an unsteady rhythm.

“Awe, they’re blushing! How cute!” Comes the voice of Damiano, further pulling a blush from the girl.

She grabs one of the pillows beside her and aims it at his head, laughing when she misses terribly.

The night fades into morning and they all climb to the roof to watch the sunrise. It’s a moment she wants tattooed in her memories forever. She’s got her arms wrapped around Victoria and the three boys huddle around them, alcohol still flows through their veins and they’re all singing different versions of the same song.

March

The beginning of spring in Rome is magical. Flowers start to bloom, mornings are coated in a light dusting of rain, and clothing starts to become less of a necessity. She takes photos of the band trapezing the streets. The Villa studio has become too familiar, moving instead to a studio in the city.

By now, a routine has been put in place. Mornings sipping coffee and eating fresh pastries while she laughs at the varying states of wake the band is in. Afternoons in the studio, recording their new album while she collects photos and videos for their ‘making of’. Evenings spent in restaurants and bars, eating some of the best food she’s ever had, and she swears she’ll never eat anything better.

She’s never fallen in love with a city like this before. Maybe it’s the city, or maybe it’s the people she’s with, but she swears she never wants to leave. It suffocates her in the best way possible, the feeling of being home. She hopes that when the tours over and her contracts up, that she’ll move here, maybe even keep these people she’s grown so close to in the past few months.

She’s thrown out of the daydream by Thomas yelling at her in a mix of italian and english for not paying attention. It’s the middle of the afternoon, they’ve taken a lunch break at a restaurant down the block, and Thomas is expressively telling a story. His hands are in the air and he’s almost knocked his wine glass over too many times to count.

Damiano sits across from her, fiddling with her camera, snapping his own photos that he presents to her proudly. She laughs at every one, but never discourages his actions. Victoria is on her left, Ethan on her right, both vying for her approval as they argue over something. She’s overwhelmed by the different directions her brain is being tugged, but the hand that snakes its way into hers calms her.

She looks down to see Ethan rubbing his thumb along the back of her hand, a soft smile grazing his lips as they make eye contact. She returns it, whispering a small thank you to the boy.

That night, she lays in bed, in the room she’s begun to finally call hers, thinking of the boy with stars in his eyes. She doesn’t know if it’s feeling like she finally belongs somewhere, or the wine that still coats her veins, but there’s something about him that she wishes she could become a part of. She wants to wrap herself in it and never leave. She’s falling for him, hard. Vaffanculo.

April

It is Victoria's birthday and everyone has decided that she must be princess for the day. Ethan and Damiano have been up since dawn making an extravagant breakfast, something that should be put in a five star restaurant. Her and Thomas had disappeared shortly after waking, returning with a stack of presents that was almost as tall as him, and the best bouquet of flowers she could find.

After decorating the patio with anything and everything they could find, it was a mad dash to Victoria's room to wake her up. She protested, claiming that sleep was more important than being awake, but at the mention of presents she was the first one out of the room.

It was a morning of happiness, and a much needed break from their hectic schedule. She recorded the entire day, from the dramatic wake up call to the celebratory sparklers that were set off that night, it was all captured.

After breakfast the princess requested a trip to the beach, and no one would dare refuse her. They found something private, a little hidden oasis an hour's drive from the villa. They spend hours there, switching between swimming and laying in the sun. She finds herself alone on the sand with Ethan at one point, watching the others like proud parents.

She tries not to think about how close his body feels to her, how she can feel the heat his body is radiating seeping into her, the smell of his body wash. He’s invading all of her senses and she’s trying so hard to focus on anything but him. “Let’s go on a walk?”

His voice is warm as the question escapes his lips. She turns to look at him and she’s thankful to be able to blame the sun for the blush on her cheeks. She nods and gets up to follow him, brushing off the sand that’s clinging to her bathing suit and wrapping a towel around her shoulders.

They disappear down the beach, walking side by side, a comfortable silence enveloping them. It’s not till they’re halfway down the beach that either of them speaks. “Are you enjoying your time?”

She doesn’t miss the hint of worry that laces his voice, and she’s quick to reassure him that she is. “Yes, very much. This is probably the best job I’ve had in years.”

He softly chuckles at her words, “Good. Good. We’re trying to make you feel like one of us, don’t want you running away.”

She’s grateful for the confession, glad that they don’t see her as just another person that works for them. “Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere anytime soon.”

He bumps her shoulder with his, a small smile forming on his face, “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

They head back to the group soon after, realizing they’ve let the day slip away and need to leave soon if they want to make their dinner reservations.

A small vineyard hidden in the valley, they’ve booked the place so it’s just them, and ordered every bottle of wine on the menu to taste. They laugh away the night, enjoying plates of delicious food and letting their minds wander. A gorgeous cake is brought out at the end, half of which ends up destroyed thanks to an impromptu food fight. More presents are opened and Victoria starts tearing up, blubbering about how much she loves the idiots she’s surrounded with.

They walk through the dark streets of Rome, singing happy birthday loudly in every language they know. It’s unusually cold, but she’s somehow been wrapped in Ethan’s jacket, his arm slung over her shoulder. She’s holding Vic’s hand, Damiano and Thomas taking turns with her camera.

The air surrounding them is electrified, she looks up into the sky and thanks the stars for the life she’s living.

May

The summer tour is fast approaching, and nerves are starting to set in. The already high energy group somehow is bouncing off the walls even more, making for an interesting collection of photos. Nerves are starting to get the better of them, and she often finds one of them wandering around the Villa at odd hours of the night. She’s good at being able to channel her nerves into something else, focusing all of the energy on a new project.

One night though, it gets the better of her. She tosses and turns in her bed for hours before she decides that sleep isn’t coming. Instead of lying in bed willing her brain to shut off, she throws on a pair of shoes and heads for the front door, thinking a walk in the warm spring air will do her some good. What she doesn’t expect to find is Ethan sitting out on the terrace, cigarette in one hand and a book in the other, lost in his own world.

She doesn’t mean to catch his attention, hoping to allow him this little bit of uninterrupted peace, but he spots her anyway. “Buona serata,” He rasps, voice laced with the quietness of the night.

“Buona serata, Ethan.” She returns the greeting.

He motions for her to sit down in the chair beside him, closing the book and placing it on the table. “What’s troubling your mind tonight?”

She’s not used to the way someone can read her so well, but there’s something about Ethan that brings her comfort in the fact that he can. “Nerves, I guess. I’ve never done a gig this big, never spent so much time with one group. I’m used to being moved around a lot, still getting used to being a permanent fixture I guess.”

The words are heavy on her tongue, never having voiced her worries out loud before. He takes a long drag of the cigarette hanging from his lips, “La vita ci dà solo ciò che sa che possiamo gestire.”

“Some would think you were a poet in a past life.”

A small laugh escapes his lips, and he shakes his head. A comfortable silence falls over them and she wishes she could bottle this feeling to keep with her forever. He turns to look at her, and it’s hard to put into words the feeling that washes over him. He’s not sure where it comes from, the urge to kiss her, but it sends him spiralling.

He reaches his hand up to brush a few strands of hair out of her face, “Le stelle brillano più luminose nei tuoi occhi, amore.”

The words and his actions cause her heart to raise and her breath to hitch. They’re close now, the closest they’ve been since that night in February, and all she can think about is that kiss that they shared.

Neither knows who leaned in first, but suddenly their lips are touching and it is everything and nothing like they remembered. While the other kiss had been hesitant and brief, this one was full of purpose. Their noses brush and their breaths tangle together, he bits her lip for a moment and a small moan escapes her. He swears it’s the best sound he’s ever heard.

He grabs at her hips, lifting her from the chair and placing her so she’s straddling his lap. She tangles her fingers in his hair and tugs softly, earning a groan from the man. The sound sends shockwaves through her and she rocks her hips against his almost involuntarily. His lips move from hers to the side of her neck, pulling small whimpers from her as he nips and sucks at the skin. It’s everything she’s ever imagined and more. The feeling of his body pressed to hers, the pleasure he can so easily give to her.

She moves her hands down to fumble with the hem of his shirt and that’s when he pulls away. “While I would normally love to do that here, how about we continue this somewhere more private?”

She nods eagerly and removes herself from his lap. He all but drags her inside the villa and towards his room. She trips over her own feet and they both laugh at her clumsiness, falling into each other as he tries to catch her but trips over his own feet in turn. He leans in to kiss her again as their bodies collide, this one sweeter and softer than the previous one.

The moment passes quickly and soon she’s being dragged through the halls again, only to be met with a half asleep Damiano standing in the doorway of his room. They stop in their tracks, jumping apart, trying to act like nothing was happening. “It’s rude to have a party and not invite everyone, you know.”

She lets out a breath she didn’t know she was holding, glad that he didn’t know what had been happening moments prior. Ethan is quick to explain that they were just having a cup of tea on the terrace and were now heading to bed, and thankfully the lie is believed. Damiano wishes them a goodnight, heading back into his room, and the two are left in silence in the hallway.

“Maybe we should go to bed,” he whispers to her.

Her heart sinks, but she nods her head in agreement and turns to walk back down the hall to her room. She’s not really sure how the night was going to end, but this was definitely not how she wanted it to; walking in silence next to someone her heart aches for, pretending that nothing had happened between them.

He walks her up to her door, still ever the gentleman, and places a gentle kiss on her cheek. “Buona notte, amore.”

The words should not sound as sad as they do, and she tries her hardest to keep the tears welling up in her eyes at bay as she watches him turn and walk away.

June

How do you go back to being just friends after making out with someone? Well, you don’t. At least, not fully. They dance around each other without knowing it, avoiding any contact that could lead to something more or allude to something else, but there are still moments where the world seems to slip away and it’s just the two of them.

The tour kicks off at a festival in Amsterdam. Blue skies and sunny days greet them as they get off the plane. They have a day to explore before their first show, and no one can decide how to spend it. In the end, Victoria drags Thomas off to do some shopping, Damiano plans a trip to a few museums with his girlfriend, and she is left with Ethan.

She’s not truly stuck with him, but she doesn’t feel like wandering a forgein city all by herself. Since the night in the Villa, they haven’t spent longer than a few minutes alone together, both refusing to acknowledge what had happened.

A trip to the beach seems like the best place to be, and within the hour she’s lounging in the sun listening to Ethan read a book. It’s peaceful, the sound of the waves and his voice lulling her into a half sleep. She’s got a drink in her hands, something sweet and fruity, and she’s sharing a cigarette with Ethan. It’s a scene she thinks one would find in a movie.

She rolls herself over so she’s laying on her back, staring up at Ethan who sits beside her. She places her hand on his leg and traces random shapes into his skin. Goosebumps rise in the wake of her fingertips, and he tries to stay focused on the book in his hands but finds it hard to do so. “You are very distracting, amore.”

She looks up at him innocently and she can’t help but admire him. His hair is tucked away in a bun, but a few pieces have fallen out and are flying in the gentle breeze. He’s only wearing a pair of swim trunks, broad chest on full display. He catches her roaming eyes as they make their way back to his face, a smirk slowly forming on his face. “Or maybe I’m the one distracting you, no?”

She smiles shyly and looks away from him, because yes, he is distracting her, and she’s finding it very hard to not kiss him right now. He chuckles at her, reaching his hand towards her face and turning it back towards him. He leans down towards her, “I’m going to kiss you now, okay?”

All she can do is nod, and a second later his lips are on hers. It’s sweet and slow, she can taste the tobacco on his lips and it’s intoxicating. She moves so she’s sitting up, leaning into him more, the world around them fading out until all that is left is them.

A few days later they find themselves in a hotel room in Munich. There’s music playing and everyone’s laughing. Her camera hasn’t left her hands all night, every moment needing to be captured as they ride the after show high.

She’s in the middle of recording Thomas’ one man act when a pair of arms wrap themselves around her waist. She knows exactly who it is by the scent that invades her nostrils and sends her brain into overdrive. She lets out a sudden, loud laugh, as his fingers trace themselves up and down her sides, collapsing into his chest as she struggles to breath.

He picks her up and spins her around, letting out an equally loud laugh at her protests. He’s happy, and it’s something that looks better on him than any designer outfit he could ever buy.

He falls onto one of the beds, pulling her down with him. She lands beside him tangled in his arms, he’s looking at her with a goofy grin on his face. The world seems to silence around them as their eyes lock. Her smile softens and she reaches her hand over to brush an eyelash off his cheek, he catches her hand before she can pull it away and brings it to his lips, kissing it gently.

He looks ethereal in this moment, hair strewn all over the place, a wild look in his eyes. She reaches for her camera and brings it up to capture him, never wanting to forget this moment.

The streets of Prague are empty, save for the two of them walking hand in hand down them. It’s early, almost too early to be considered an acceptable time to be awake, but they continue on nonetheless. A wild craving for something sweet had brought upon their adventure, and with the look she was giving him, he couldn’t say no to accompanying her.

They had been sitting on the balcony of her hotel room, watching the sun starting to peak out over the horizon and sharing a cigarette when she had turned to him with a mischievous look in her eyes. “I want something sweet.”

The comment had earned her an offer to order room service, but she shakes her head at the idea, standing up and walking back into the room. “No. Something real, maybe a coffee too.”

He follows her in, watching her pull on a shirt to cover the bralette she had been sitting in. “È presto, amore. Let’s go to bed. We can order something when the sun is awake also.”

She smiles at his words, but makes no move to stop dressing. She grabs her wallet and room key before heading to the door, stopping to turn and look at him, a question in her eyes.

“Fine, I’ll come with you.” He says after a moment, throwing on his jacket and walking over to her.

It’s 7:30 in the morning, the sun is starting to make it’s daily appearance, and they are happy. The small bakery they stumble into is just opening for the day and they’re greeted by the owner, an older lady with the sweetest smile. She speaks in broken English, an obvious language barrier between the group of them, but no one seems to mind.

She orders herself a poppy strudel and a coffee, Ethan ordering a croissant and an espresso, before sitting down at one of the small tables. He sits beside her, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her into his side. He presses a soft kiss into the crown of her head and she sighs in content.

Moments like this are what she lives for. She might only be here because she works for them, but somewhere along the way she’s become part of their little family. She looks over to Ethan who’s lost in conversation with the owner, and she whispers to herself, “Penso di essermi innamorato di te.”

She doesn’t know that he hears her, his smile spreading wider across his face.

July

The turnover from June to July happens mid concert in Stockholm. She swears she can feel it, the sudden shift, a slight change in the air. She’s running around in front of the stage capturing pictures of the band in what she’s come to call their ‘natural habitat’. There’s an indescribable buzz in the air as they perform, the crowd becoming louder and louder with each song.

She keeps catching Ethans eye and there’s something primal in the way he looks at her. During a song switch, while Damiano rambles to the crowd, he motions her on stage. He tells her to get closer to everyone, promising that they won’t bite, and she giggles at him. She does what he says nonetheless, capturing some up close photos of the band and a few great shots of the crowd.

All too soon the show is ending and everyone’s piling into the car, a small party taking place in the backseat. Damiano has music blasting from his phone, Victoria and Thomas are dancing along to the beat, and Ethan is belting out the lyrics. She watches the group of them, laughing so hard her sides hurt, and she’s never felt more at home.

When they get to the hotel he’s quick to pull her towards his room, thankfully void of a roommate for the night. The second they get into the room, his lips are on hers. He pulls her close to his body and her hands tangle themselves in his hair. It’s nothing like any of their previous kisses, it’s heated and fast, every thought trying to be conveyed by the fever of it. She pulls back slightly to catch her breath and he leans in to whisper in her ear, “Join me in the shower?”

It’s not so much a question as a statement, but she nods her head eagerly, quick to follow him into the bathroom. He strips himself of the few clothes he’s wearing (most having been thrown off during the show), before turning to her. He reaches his arms out towards her, pulling her close to him and tugging on her shirt. She barely registers him pulling off her clothes, too focused on his body in front of her.

She’s never seen him so bare, and she’s having a hard time focussing on anything else. It’s not until her body hits the warm water that she snaps back to reality. He looks wild, eyes blown with lust, a wicked smile on his face. She firmly plants her lips on his, moaning into the kiss as he grabs at her. His hands are skilled and know every way to pull those delicious sounds from her lips.

It’s quick and dirty, and it is everything she has ever imagined it would be.

An hour later, she’s tangled up in the sheets of his bed, his entire being engulfing her as they watch the stars outside the window. She wonders if they are watching them too.

Paris is the city of lights, a statement she’s never been more sure of. The streets are lit with every light, shining brighter than the stars. She’s in a permanent state of bliss, after the night she shared with Ethan. Their relationship is hidden from the public, living in stolen moments and nights in hotel rooms, but she’s never been happier to be someone's dirty secret.

The band is electric on stage, something about the city they’re in taking their performance to a whole new level. The show goes on longer than it should have, but none of them even care when their manager comes over to reprimand them. They hang around to greet fans and take photos with anyone and everyone, and it’s not until security has to kick them out that they finally leave.

They find themselves in a bar, not sure what part of the city they’re in, but no one cares when the night feels like this. They drink expensive drinks that they can’t pronounce the name of, dance to songs they don’t know the words to, and feel more alive than they’ve ever felt. It’s like the world turned itself up to 11 just for them.

She dances with Ethan, not caring who sees because the night is theirs and no one cares. She kisses him in the middle of the dance floor and he pulls her into a vacant bathroom. It’s hot and heavy and the smell of alcohol envelopes them, but they couldn’t care less. Is this love? They don’t care. They’re young and dumb, and well, you only live once.

Back at the hotel they spend the night wrapped in bedsheets on the balcony, a bottle of champagne and a pack of cigarettes shared between the two of them. He points to the stars, a stupid grin on his face, “Le stelle brillano solo per noi.”

She snorts, throwing an abandoned pillow at him. He grabs her arm and pulls her into him, tickling her sides until she’s begging him to stop, tears staining her cheeks but a laugh like no other leaving her lips.

As the night bleeds into morning, and both are hazy with sleep, he whispers to her, “Sei il mio universo.”

They walk down the streets of London, his arm slung over her shoulders as she rambles away, both blissfully unaware of the few fans snapping photos down the street. They don’t notice the group of girls following them, cameras and phones in hand, capturing picture after picture of the couple.

By the time they reach the shop, the photos are already out into the world.

As they order, reposts and comments start flowing, and their phones start lighting up with notifications.

Before they can pay, she’s crying.

Rule number one of being in the public eye; never look at the comments, distance yourself from social media as much as possible, it will never end well.

The final stop in Rome was supposed to be a welcome home. A big celebration was to occur after their last concert, but now, it’s nothing more than finding the quickest way back home. She sits in one of the dressing rooms the entire show, waiting for it to end, scrolling through her social media.

She knows she shouldn’t be, that’ll all it’s doing is hurting her, making her feel worse. But she can’t stop. The comments aimed towards her and the drummer are terrible, and she wishes she could just delete herself from existence. They aren’t even dating, at least not officially, but she’s been deemed the girlfriend from hell. She’s unknowingly stolen something that never belonged to anyone to begin with.

Damianos girlfriend is in the room with her, telling her of her own horror stories dealing with fans, and she knows she’s just trying to help, but she really wishes she would just shut up. She loves the girl to death, she’s been a blessing this entire time, but she feels her mind is too far gone to be saved from the madness.

It’s only a few minutes later that the band wanders in, the usual after show high replaced with a sudden heaviness. Ethan comes to stand by her after putting his things away and pulls her into a tight hug. “Amore mio.”

He’s sweaty and could definitely use a shower, but the hug is comforting. She rubs his back soothingly, knowing this is just as hard on him as it is on her. Their management team has told everyone to remain quiet about it, disappearing from the internet until further notice while they figure out how to manage the situation. It’s maddening, the inability to speak out and protect her. He wishes he could snap his fingers and everything would be fixed, but he knows nothing is ever that easy.

They make their way back to the villa in silence, the car filled with a strangeness. She’s sandwiched between Victoria and Ethan, leaning on the bassist's shoulder, watching her play a game on her phone. It’s not how anyone wanted to end the tour, but the world is a strange and cruel place. Everything good always comes burning down.

August

There’s a party at the villa one night. Things have calmed down enough that she doesn’t spiral every time she looks at her phone, but there’s something in the way Ethan acts around her that makes her uneasy. She’s standing out on the patio, trying to avoid the questioning eyes from everyone in the house. She hasn’t spoken to Ethan all day, and the alcohol coursing through her veins makes her even angrier than she knows she should be.

Out of the corner of her eye she sees him walk out the door beside her, a small scoff leaving her lips as he tries to speak to her.

“Couldn’t be bothered to talk to me all day, what’s changed that you’ve decided to grace me with your presence?”

He looks at her, stunned. “I don’t get what you mean.”

She scoffs again, placing her glass on the table across from her. “Since London you’ve done nothing but ignore me. I get that this wasn’t easy for you, but it wasn’t exactly a cake walk for me. I needed you, Ethan, and you left me.” Her voice is raw and scratchy, the feeling of wanting to cry tickling the back of her throat.

“I don’t know how to do this. I don’t know how Dami does it, how he can deal with the comments and messages. My brain won’t shut off, I can’t stop thinking about how if I had been more careful, I could’ve protected you and none of this would’ve happened. I feel stupid for thinking I could have. I hate seeing you like this, I wish I could take you away from all of this.” His voice slowly lowers, till it’s nothing more than a whisper, words meant only for her.

“I was never what you wanted, was I? This was just all some stupid game to you. I was just someone you could use to get off.” Her voice is laced with pain, a small crack coming out as she speaks.

He shakes his head, laughing slightly, and turns to look away from her. He walks a few steps before turning to face her again, “No. No, you were exactly what I wanted. You were everything to me. We were the same type of crazy.”

“I don’t understand Ethan, then what was the problem? This feels like a confession and a break up all in one.” She crosses her arms and leans against the wall, watching as he pulls a cigarette out from his pocket and lights it.

The familiar sight creates something warm in her chest, memories of summer nights like this flash through her mind. Spending the evening sitting on the balcony of different hotel rooms, sharing a cigarette between the two of them while they let the events of the day soak in. She’d give anything to go back to one of those moments. He blows a breath of smoke out and starts to speak again, “I don’t know, amore. I don’t. I want to tell you I love you, to hold you and call you mine. But I can’t.”

“Can’t, or won’t.” It’s not a question, but a statement.

“No, don’t do that. Don’t turn this into something it’s not. I want to, believe me, I do.” He steps towards her and reaches out his arms, “But we both know we can’t.”

She doesn’t know where the tears come from, but they’re there, pooling in her eyes. It’s only been a few months since they’ve met, there were no promises to be anything more than a summer adventure, but this doesn’t feel right. Her heart should not be breaking at the thought of losing someone she barely even knows.

He stops when he notices her state, reaching out to wipe the tears falling down her cheeks. “Merda. Merda! This wasn’t how this was supposed to go.”

She looks up at him through clouded eyes, “Then how was this supposed to go, Ethan? Breaking my heart wasn’t supposed to hurt me this bad? I was supposed to smile and tell you that I'm not madly in love with you and these past few months meant nothing to me?”

His heart breaks slowly at her words. He never meant for the night to go this way, and he wishes he could just pull her into his arms and tell her he loved her, that everything could be okay. But he can’t, so he pulls away from her, “I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry.”

They’re the only words he can manage to get out without breaking down. He takes a second to watch her, memorize all the features of her face, before turning around and walking away. It’s a sight that rips her heart out, watching his form disappear back into the house. She knows this is it, the goodbye she’d been preparing for these past few weeks, but it doesn’t hurt any less.

Before she can help herself, she’s calling after him. “Being in love isn’t a weakness, you know!” But the words fall upon deaf ears.

Vic finds her standing in the same spot an hour later. She’s got a smoke lit in her hand, the third one from the pack. She hasn’t touched her lips to any of them, but the smell and the feeling of holding it brings her comfort. She was never really one to smoke, but she found it entrancing to watch Ethan do it, and right now, it’s the only thing keeping her grounded. It’s silly, how something so small can mean so much.

Her heart aches in the most unbearable way, but she can’t bring herself to do anything about it. Vic doesn’t speak, just stands beside her. She doesn’t need to ask to know that she is well aware of the events that have just unfolded, she’s just grateful for the company.

September

It’s stupidly hot in London for the time of year, but mother nature loves her unexpected heat waves. She’s home now, having left Rome shortly after the fight with Ethan, assuring their manager that she would be able to edit and upload all of the photos and videos from the comfort of her own flat.

Vic and Thomas had driven her to the airport, had walked her all the way to security and hugged her tightly before letting her go. She’d promised to keep in touch and Victoria had made her pinky swear that if she was ever in Rome again, she’d come visit. The flight was short, and she was glad the time difference was only an hour.

Her sister had picked her up and dropped her off at her flat, and she’d immediately collapsed into bed. That was three days ago, she’d barely moved since. Someone had caught her at the airport and the photos were everywhere, articles upon articles had been released, she’d had non stop messages from everyone, but all she could bring herself to do was turn her phone off.

Her photos make it to the front of magazines, her articles getting featured all over the globe, she’s made a name for herself. She gets emails from prospective clients wanting to book her in at shows, her boss sending her information for more high end gigs, but all she can think about is her drummer boy.

Her phone still sits turned off on her desk, she refuses to turn it on for anything, resorting to using only her email, but she knows everything that’s going on with the band. She’d been asked to join them again in a few months, to become a permanent part of their team. She hasn’t been able to reply.

She gets panicky thinking about seeing him again, about the things people will say if she’s caught in the same country as him. She’s stopped receiving death threats, but there’s still comments that creep in, fans thanking whatever gods made them seperate.

Victoria tries to reach out every few days, worried about the state of person she’s become, but she can’t even manage to type out an I’m okay. The world seems to be too fast and too slow, too bright and too dark, too much and not enough. Her heart aches and it’s a pain so deep she thinks she’ll never be okay again. Love is a cruel, cruel creature.

October

She finally brings herself to go back to work at the beginning of the month. She books herself in for a small band, someone no one really knows but she hopes they will one day. She’s in Amsterdam now, trying hard not to think of the memories the place brings. The band is good, the music heavy and the beat strong. They find a way to tell a story that leaves everyone with a soul searching question by the end of the night. Do you know who you are?

She’s only with them for a few nights, a short gig, but something she needed to get the ball rolling, to remember why she was doing this in the first place. After submitting the photos and writing an article that sends another wave of offers her way, she takes a few days to explore the city. It was wonderful before, when the air was warm and it felt like there was magic enveloping the city. But now, with the change of seasons, it’s even more beautiful than she remembers.

She walks the empty streets one night, huddled in the safety of her hoodie, camera in hand, and captures moments. A couple standing under a street light, a cafe closing for the night, kids running. It’s not until she hears a laugh she’s all too familiar with that her heart stops and her blood turns cold. She turns, ever so carefully, hidden behind the side of a building, and sees him.

He’s beautiful, even more than she remembers, and he looks happy. He’s walking with two girls, the resemblance making her sure it’s his sisters, but in this light she can’t be sure. She’s never met them, but he talked about them often, and she felt a pang in her chest for the homesickness he must have felt.

She tries to run, tries her hardest to get away, but she’s in an alley that leads nowhere and he’ll for sure be able to see her no matter what. The voices of the three get closer and she starts to panic, but there’s nowhere to go and she knows she’ll have to pull on her big girl pants and face him. But her heart won’t stop beating so loudly and she’s afraid she’ll break if he looks at her.

She pretends to be busy with her camera, focusing all of her attention on settings she knows are perfect, but a voice carries it’s way to her ears. “Hey stranger.”

It’s soft and it makes her knees weak and she hates herself for it. She looks up at him and his expecting eyes and her heart breaks all over again. She can’t help it, but suddenly there are tears running down her face and she can’t breathe. “Hey, hey. It’s okay.”

He places a hand on her shoulder but she pushes it away, “No it’s not.” She says between breaths.

“I shouldn’t be here, I should not be here. I have to go.”

She turns to leave, but one of his sisters stops her, “Let us walk you home, please. My brother may be a dumbass, but we have good genes. Let us make sure you get back safe.”

She doesn’t know why the words calm her, but she nods her head and lets the girls lead her in the direction of her hotel. The twins, Eleanora and Lucrezia, talk to her in fits of italian and english, trying to keep her brain occupied. But her whole body is on high alert, too aware of the man trailing behind them and how much of a fool she must look like. She feels like a mess, like someone drowning in a foot of water, but she can’t help it.

They walk her into the lobby of her hotel, the girls wish her a goodnight before shoving Ethan towards her. She doesn’t want to talk to him, and he must see it in her eyes because he tries to leave. But his sisters won’t let him, they stand tall and he looks like a child being scolded by his parents.

“Can we sit?” He asks, pointing to a couch.

She doesn’t want to, she wants to run up to her room and cry, but she nods. They sit and it is silent. Her stomach is in her throat, her eyes hurt from trying not to cry, but she sits and she waits. She studies his face, the crease in between his eyebrows that only forms when he’s confused or thinking, she wants to reach over and smooth it out. He turns towards her and catches her staring, a small smile forming on his lips.

He takes her in, allowing himself to really look at her for the first time in months, and something in his heart breaks. How did he ever let her go? Why was he so stupid to ruin something so beautiful?

“I’m sorry.” He blurts out before he can stop himself. “I’m so sorry, amore. I know I can’t say it enough, I know it’s not as easy as that, but I’m sorry and I love you. So much it hurts.”

The words hit her like a truck, they knock the air out of her lungs and the tears she was trying so hard to keep at bay start falling down her cheeks. She stands up so fast she gets light headed, “I can’t do this. I thought I could, but I can’t.”

She turns and starts walking towards the elevators. He calls after her, but she’s determined to leave, to get away. He runs after her, catching her right before the doors of the elevator close, and he wishes she didn’t look so broken. The doors slip close and she is gone and he feels like he could break something.

Her room is cold and she wishes she was home in her flat. She throws herself into the shower, the water burning her skin, and she sobs. She sobs so hard her body shakes, she screams and hopes no one can hear her.

He’s still standing by the elevator, crying now, too. His body aches in a way he’s never felt before and he hates that he isn’t holding her right now. He knows he messed up, he beats himself up for it everyday, but he doesn’t know how to fix it. He can’t just say sorry and expect everything to be okay, but he has to do something.

November

The ground is covered in snow. It is peaceful and quiet. He’s not used to this, the cold and the snow, but he understands the appeal. He’s standing outside her flat, or at least what he hopes is her flat, Victoria wasn’t exactly sure which one was hers. He’s bought her favourite flowers and he’s prepared to pour his soul out to her.

He paces outside her door for what feels like hours, trying to get himself to knock, but before he can, she opens the door. “Ethan?”

Her voice is soft, his heart sings at the sound of it. He turns to face her and the sight before him takes his breath away. She’s wearing a dress that shows off everything he loved about her, a coat thrown over her arm, she looks like an angel on earth. “Do you have a moment?”

She’s running late for dinner with her sister, but she’s afraid if she says no to him, she’ll never see him again. She hasn’t forgotten that night in Amsterdam, wishes she would have been brave enough to stay and talk, but she can’t change the past. “Yes, yes. Come in.”

She lets him into her flat, taking the flowers he hands her, and brings him over to her couch. “So.”

The script he’d had prepared in his head is suddenly gone from his memories. “I’ve thought this through a thousand times, planned this out a million different ways, but I can’t figure out the right words to say. I’m sorry, amore mio. I can’t say that enough. I never should have left you, shouldn’t have let things happen the way they did. Loving you was easy, and I think that scared me.”

She takes a deep breath, not sure what to say. She feels tears bubbling in the back of her throat and she hates that this is her response to everything revolving around him. He notices the shift in her, can tell she’s about to cry, “Amore mio, please don’t cry. I’ll start and then neither of us will be able to do anything else.”

She laughs quietly at his words, “I don’t think there are any tears left inside of me. I cried them all for you.”

His heart breaks at her confession. He moves closer to her and wraps himself around her. She hates how easy it is for her to melt into his touch, but she enjoys the comfort of it. “Tell me how to fix this. Tell me to stay and I will be here for as long as you’ll have me. I’m yours amore.”

“Please, don’t leave me again.” The words are barely more than a whisper, but he hears them.

He pulls her tight to his chest and holds her. She doesn’t care about anything else but this moment and him.

She wakes up the next morning in her bed. The sun is streaming in through the windows and she can smell Ethans body wash laced in the fibres of her bed sheets. She rolls over, expecting to see him beside her, but is met with an empty bed. Her heart sinks, afraid that everything he’d said was too good to be true, that he’d left her, again. But the sounds coming from her kitchen prove her wrong.

She gets up, quickly changing out of the dress she was wearing the night before, and follows the sound of clinking dishes. She’s greeted by the sight of a shirtless Ethan, back turned to her, hunched over her stove. There’s the smell of coffee brewing and something soft playing from the radio. If she doesn’t think too hard, she can almost imagine this being a daily occurrence.

He turns around when he hears the floorboards creak, a smile on his face, “Buongiorno amore mio.”

“Buongiorno.”

He hands her a cup of coffee and plates the pancakes he’s made. She smiles at the domesticality of it all. He sits down beside her on the couch and they eat in silence, leaning against one another. Afterwards, she washes the dishes and he dries them. Neither one of them says anything until the sun is high in the sky and they are laying in bed together. “I love you.”

It is the first time she’s said it in such a permanent way, she recites it like it is a fact written in history books. He looks down at her, she’s curled up on his chest, a hazy look on her face. He reaches down to tuck her hair behind her ear and leans his head towards her, “Ti voglio bene.” He seals the statement with a soft kiss.

It’s light and barley there, she chases after his lips as he pulls away, and he chuckles in a way that sends butterflies into her stomach. She places herself on his lap, weaving her fingers into his hair as his tether to her waist. “Hi.”

“Hi.”

He stares at her, memorizing all of the features of her face. He loses himself in thoughts of days spent exactly like this, of a life he hopes isn’t just a dream. He flips them over carefully, laying her down on the bed. He hovers over her, arms on either side of her head, “I’m going to show you how much I love you.”

December

“Move in with me.”

It’s early in the morning and they’re sitting in bed sharing a pot of coffee and a pack of cigarettes. His arm is wrapped around her shoulders, she’s leaned into his side, and he whispers those words.

She hasn’t yet told him about the offer from the band's manager, to become their permanent photographer, but it seems like the perfect moment to. “Yes.”

“Really?”

She laughs at his shock, “I was offered to come and work for the band full time, I haven’t replied yet. But I want to take the job.”

A goofy grin makes its way onto his face, “Do it! Right now. Tell them yes, come and stay with us. Be my girlfriend?”

He’s rambling and he doesn’t care. She smiles at him, her heart bursting with love for the man. “Okay, yes! Absolutely!”

Christmas is celebrated in their apartment in Rome. The band is there, her sister flies out and his family comes too. It is a day filled with love and laughter. They eat a grand lunch that they spent the previous day cooking, his mom brings a homemade panettone. They exchange gifts in the evening, and it is everything she’d dreamed of.

On New Year's Eve they make a trip to the villa. They sing songs and drink expensive wine. Fireworks light up the sky brighter than the stars. They sit out on the porch and tell stories of things that seem so far away. He’s sitting beside her, hands intertwined. He tells her about all of the things he wants to do in the new year and she is mesmerized by the way he talks.

There will be a moment in time when the world stops spinning and everything goes quiet, and she thinks that if that were to happen now, it would be the perfect way to go. Surrounded by the people she now calls family and the person she loves most in the world.

Fireworks go off in the distance, someone shouts out a drunken happy new year! and as time flows from one year to the next, she realizes that this is all that will ever matter.

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