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minetvnetwork · 3 years ago

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Could a Mysterious Keith Haring Sculpture Reheat New York’s Nastiest Divorce?

Art dealer David Mugrabi and wife Libbie’s 2018 divorce—with its allegations of extramarital skinny dipping and battles over shared art—was the stuff of tabloid dreams. Though they eventually settled, a new complaint from an allegedly aggrieved art buyer is revisiting all that scorched earth.

On July 10, 2018, Libbie Mugrabi was having lunch at Le Bilboquet, the pricey Upper East Side bistro where everybody gets the Cajun chicken, with her sister, Mia Rowe, and a friend named Lauren Amar. Mugrabi had just returned from a spell at her family’s Hamptons home. The trip was not exactly all suntanning and hitting the links at the Maidstone Club. On the morning after a Fourth of July weekend dinner party at the 7,000-square-foot Water Mill residence, she has said, she walked into the family room to find her then husband, David Mugrabi—who with his family owns more Andy Warhol paintings than anyone alive—naked with another woman, both partially draped with a towel, his head resting on her breasts. The pair had been skinny dipping, the woman later told the New York Post, which covered the ensuing divorce with something like gleeful duty.

After Libbie discovered the nude duo, the other woman proceeded to stay in the Hamptons manse for another four days. The woman, who was not named, told Libbie “nothing happened,” adding, “I have no interest in your husband.” Eventually, Libbie tried to cut a deal for her own freedom, telling David she would walk away from their marriage if he agreed to a $10 million settlement. He had other ideas. As soon as Libbie left the Hamptons to get back to the city, she has alleged, David hired movers to pack up the priciest works—by the likes of George Condo, Jean-Michel Basquiat, and Kaws—from the Water Mill mansion. A housekeeper called Libbie to tip her off to the caravan of art handlers taking down masterpieces one by one, and reached her while she was sitting down at Le Bilboquet. The divorce was real, she thought, and her husband was trying to hide hundreds of millions of goodies.

Distraught, she ran back to the East 85th penthouse the family was staying in while their regular abode on East 82nd was going through a $57 million renovation. According to later testimony from Amar, Libbie started grabbing whatever valuables she could—jewelry, a Basquiat plate—before her sister recommended that she take Keith Haring’s Untitled (Three Dancing Figures) (1989), a foot-tall, 25-pound enamel-on-aluminum sculpture.

Suddenly, David arrived back at the apartment, shocked at the scene. Amar testified that Libbie yelled out to her friends, “Don’t go! He’s going to kill me.”

Per the testimony, David then lunged at his still-wife, grabbed the Haring, and wrestled with it for a few moments before shoving Libbie down on the ground in their penthouse.

“You're taking my things!” David reportedly yelled.

Eventually, he pushed his wife out the door, Amar said, adding that David called the three women “lowlifes” and “gold diggers” once they were in the hallway.

The couple’s divorce was finally settled last year after being reopened, but the fate of the Haring remained a mystery. Now it appears to have recently reemerged and is shaking up the tenuous truce between the formerly warring Mugrabis. There is a lawsuit—filed last month in New York Supreme Court, but only reported now in True Colors—against David and his family’s holding company, High Fashion Concepts LLC. In the suit, a dealer tells a tale of how he snapped up what sure sounds like the Haring statue from Libbie and consigned it to Phillips for a high estimate of $300,000. The work was in the printed catalog, and several bidders had placed pre-offers that would be run through Phillips specialists on the phone banks. (High Fashion Concepts has not yet responded to the lawsuit; neither David nor Libbie Mugrabi responded to multiple requests for comment when True Colors reached out this week.)

But then, the suit alleges, the Mugrabis used their clout on Park Avenue—decades of selling, buying, and guaranteeing works for Phillips—to get the house to pull the work. All they had to tell them was that the work had been stolen.

“On the eve of the Phillips sale, counsel for [High Fashion Concepts], an entity that is co-owned by Defendant David Mugrabi, telephoned a sales director at Phillips claiming that the Work had been stolen from HFC,” the suit alleges.

“Phillips awaits to hear the resolution of this matter between the two parties involved,” said a spokesperson for the auction house when I reached out this week.

The complaint pits two old-school art-dealing families against each other. The patriarch of the Mugrabi family, Jose Mugrabi, emigrated from Jerusalem to Bogota, and then moved to New York when his sons—David, as well as Alberto “Tico” Mugrabi, who settled down with the former Colby Jordan after a star-studded 2016 wedding—were preteens, hoping to import his last-year’s-looks business of selling old fabric to the States. That failed, but Papa Mugrabi soon struck gold buying and reselling art, especially when his eye drew him toward undervalued works by Andy Warhol, ones that he could buy for a few thousand and then resell for millions.

The plaintiff is Aiden Fine Arts Inc., the company of Ely Sakhai, who emigrated to the U.S. from Iran as a child, becoming a jewelry-rocking, pot-bellied, Long Island–dwelling, big-pocketed supporter of Chabad, as well as a fairly successful art dealer running a company he called the Art Collection, later called Exclusive Art, that operated out of a Broadway storefront near Union Square. And then, in 2004, the feds showed up. Turns out Sakhai was also running a scheme, which he later pleaded guilty to, of having forgers copy middle-market works by Impressionist masters. He was eventually nabbed when he consigned a real Gauguin, Vase de Fleurs (Lilas), to Sotheby’s in the exact same sales season that a Japanese client who had bought his fake of the same painting consigned it to Christie’s. Hate it when that happens. Sakhai avoided jail time and had to fork over $12.5 million to former clients he conned. (His son, Andre Sakhai, is an art collector who got ensnared in that whole Inigo Philbrick debacle some years back.)

In the new suit, Sakhai’s company makes it known that it purchased “an artwork by a famed American artist (not described here, but known to the parties)” from Libbie for “a six-figure sum” later said to be $165,000. The suit also states that the work was never listed on the Art Loss Register, and was located in Libbie’s Manhattan apartment when the deal went down.

According to the text of the suit, under the sale agreement, the former Mrs. David Mugrabi “is the sole and absolute owner of the Work,” and she “has the authority to sell and transfer good and marketable title to the Work.” Referring to Sakhai’s company and David, the suit also notes that “at no point until the events giving rise to this lawsuit did Plaintiff know or have reason to know of Defendants’ claims concerning the Work.”

But he would have known about such “events” if he had read the Post or Daily Mail. A photo of the work he bought from Libbie was published in multiple reports after the scorned ex-wife brought it into a Manhattan courtroom as evidence while testifying in regard to the events of the July day when a Bilboquet lunch got cut memorably short.

Furthermore, the suit states that the work was consigned about one year after its September 2020 purchase, meaning it would be slotted into the bellwether November New York sales. The suit also says that the lot was given a high estimate of more than double what Sakhai’s company had paid, or around $330,000. Withdrawn lots no longer appear on the Phillips website after they are pulled by the house or consignor, but they still exist in the original PDFs of the catalog. A cross-reference search of all the works pulled from the Phillips sales in November 2021 turned up just one work with a high estimate close to double what he paid—Haring’s Untitled (Three Dancing Figures), the exact work that the dueling Mugrabis gripped in a half-million game of tug-of-war, estimated to sell for between $200,00 and $300,000.

According to the suit, filed in New York Supreme Court on February 25, the work is currently being held in Phillips storage, with its fate very much up in the air.

The Rundown Your crib sheet for comings and goings in the art world this week and beyond…

…This week Christie’s announced that it would be selling Andy Warhol’s Shot Sage Blue Marilyn (1964), one of the five portraits of Marilyn Monroe that all happen to have been pierced by a bullet. Soon after the works were made, the performance artist Dorothy Podber walked into the Factory, pulled out a pistol, and shot four of them lined up in a row. It didn’t hurt their value, though. They were repaired, and are now considered the most iconic and desirable works Warhol ever made. And when the Shot Marilyn from the collection of late Swiss dealer Doris Ammann hits the block in May, it will carry the highest presale estimate ever slapped on an artwork: $200 million. That guess could be conservative. At its unveiling this week, Christie’s rainmaker Alex Rotter said that the Warhol is “poised to become the most expensive painting of all time,” unseating Leonardo da Vinci’s Salvator Mundi, which was purchased by Abu Dhabi’s Department of Culture and Tourism for $450 million in 2017. My sources say the same, indicating that the some $200 million that Ken Griffin paid S.I. Newhouse’s family for Shot Orange Marilyn in a 2018 private transaction was apparently a steal. (Disclosure: Said family owns this magazine’s parent company.) And if some prognosticators are to be believed, things could go stratospheric. As the thinking goes, there’s a handful of mega-billionaire collectors who think this is their last chance to get a Shot Marilyn, and will pay anything for it. If two or three go head-to-head in the bidding, anything could happen. One source even floated a scenario that once upon a time seemed utterly impossible: It might be time for the world’s first billion-dollar artwork.

…Matt Dillon was spotted at the Thomas Bayrle opening at Gladstone Gallery on Thursday, catching up with the artist and Gladstone partner Gavin Brown. Little-known fact: Dillon was once roommates with the legendary Los Angeles dealer Patrick Painter.

…One of the more jaw-dropping art books to hit the marketplace soon is Amor Mundi, a comprehensive look at the collection of Dallas philanthropist Marguerite Steed Hoffman, to be published next month by Ridinghouse. In addition to featuring texts by more than 30 curators and artists and extensive interviews with the collector, the book serves as a catalog of a collection that’s long been one of the more storied art holdings in Texas. Among the masterpieces revealed in the pages are Robert Gober’s Two Doors (1989); Peter Doig’s Briey (Concrete Cabin) (1994–1996); and Philip Guston’s Studio Landscape (1975), as well as newer work by the likes of Rashid Johnson, Jordan Wolfson, and Florian Krewer.

…Curator Alison Gingeras has delivered a dispatch for True Colors from Warsaw, Poland, where the arts community is coming together to shelter and feed refugees from Ukraine. The Nowy Teatr is usually a hipster-besotted avant garde showcase for independent dance, film, and stage productions. In the last month it’s been transformed into a makeshift welcome center where grassroots organizers can help arrivals with paperwork and ID issues. And while the Museum of Modern Art in Warsaw is currently scheduled to host a group show of artists on women’s rights—including work by Barbara Kruger, Andrea Bowers, and many Polish artists—it instead has opened its doors to refugees. “They are located next to the central train station where tens of thousands are pouring into the city daily, and have converted a large part of the space into a daycare for refugee children while their parents are out looking for work or lodging,” Gingeras said. “Artists are taking in refugees into their apartments to live. Museum people coordinating transportation from the border, driving medical supplies to the border.” She added that most of the efforts are being led by ordinary citizens, rather than government organizations.

Scene Report: Fin de Siècle Dimes Square On a March evening nearly 300 years after James De Lancey planted a grove of apple trees on an island-based English settlement in the New World, the artist and former skateboarder Tony Cox locked up the secret gallery he houses in his apartment on a street named for the old orchard. He walked a block down a street in turn named for a canal that once drained a fetid pond, and looked up at the first luxury hotel in the history of the neighborhood. It’s called Nine Orchard, and it opens this summer in the former Jarmulowsky Bank Building, the historic tower across from Dimes with the fancy cupola on top. For the locals, it’s a clear, ahem, vibe shift, and perhaps not in a fun way. A century after Sender Jarmulowsky’s bank failed, emptying the pockets of the Lower East Side, the building is set to host hordes of brunchgoers at its half dozen bars and boites. “They literally just turned the lights on, and it’s already over,” Cox said, half sad and half bemused, the hotel’s sparkling sconces looming like a threat.

But the fin du monde attitude has only hardened the scene on the five-block nucleus of downtown known as Dimes Square. The micro-nabe has been immortalized onstage thanks to playwright Matthew Gasda—the production Dimes Square has been a surprise hit, extending its sellout run. Naturally, a splashy feature on the production is running in the Times Styles, on newsstands this weekend. In the last week alone, the beloved Clandestino has been graced by media celebs known locally (Dasha Nekrasova, Alison Roman, Dev Hynes) and globally (Dave Chappelle). The gallery scene is reloading too—in addition to Cox’s fantastic space Club Rhubarb, the stretch of Henry Street a quick hop down from Wu’s Wonton King hosts Situations, Fierman, and Public Access, the gallery run by former Kids star Leo Fitzpatrick. On Thursday night, longtime Henry Street godmother Ellie Rines moves her gallery, 56 Henry, a few blocks closer to the center of the action, in a space about twice as large as the closet-size spaces she’s had in the past.

And while David Zwirner doesn’t have a Lower East Side outpost, the gallery’s online sales portal, Platform, had a dinner Wednesday at Bacaro, the area’s reigning artist hang, to honor a new print by Ebecho Muslimova, sold only on the site, with part of the profits going to the Ukrainian National Women's League of America. When trying to figure out where to dine, Muslimova drew a hard line when picking the spot.

“I live next door, so it couldn’t be easier,” she said. Enjoy it while it lasts.

#News #breaking news #latestnews #money #viralpost

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olko71 · 2 years ago

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New Post has been published on All about business online

New Post has been published on https://yaroreviews.info/2023/07/british-gas-anger-as-energy-bill-change-leads-to-record-profits

British Gas: Anger as energy bill change leads to record profits

Getty Images

By Tom Espiner

Business reporter, BBC News

There has been an angry reaction to British Gas reporting record half-year profits as millions of households continue to struggle to pay for energy costs.

British Gas reported profits of £969m after price cap rises allowed it to make more money from household bills.

Regulator Ofgem said the bumper profits were a “one-off” due to the changes.

But poverty campaigners said the profits “are a further sign of Britain’s broken energy system”.

Simon Francis, coordinator of the End Fuel Poverty Coalition, said: “At a time when household energy debt is spiralling to record levels and energy bills remain double what they were just a few years ago, the profits posted will be greeted with disbelief by those struggling through the crisis.

“There will of course be questions about how these profits were made, but the reality is that energy firms are operating on a playing field set by the government.”

About half of the profit – £500m – was due to changes to the price cap made by the energy regulator. By comparison, British Gas reported a profit of £98m in the same period the year before.

Ofgem had raised how much suppliers can claim from household bills to make up for costs incurred during the pandemic.

It said bumper profits for energy suppliers in the first half of the year would be a “one-off” as they recoup “significant costs” from the impact of the Covid pandemic and Russia’s invasion of Ukraine, and that profits would then “fall back significantly”.

The energy price cap stayed roughly the same until August 2021, when it began to rise.

There was a big hike in April 2022, and it then rose sharply until January 2023 before falling back.

On average, in 2022 suppliers made a shortfall per dual fuel customer due to the cap, but in the first half of 2023, the higher cap gave them a benefit of about £100 a customer.

Households were protected from the full rise in the cap by the government’s energy price guarantee, which ran from October to June and limited typical annual bills to £2,500.

Ofgem said that billpayers, and taxpayers via government subsidies, had “supported the sector and its customers as prices rose and costs spiralled”, adding that firms should not pay dividends to shareholders unless they are “financially robust”.

British Gas owner warns energy bills to stay high

What is the energy cap and what’s happening to bills?

The owner of British Gas, Centrica, reported underlying operating profits of £2.1bn for the first six months of the year, up from £1.3bn a year earlier.

Centrica has proposed a 33% hike in dividends and a £450m extension of share buybacks.

Labour’s shadow climate and net zero secretary, Ed Miliband, said that energy firm profits “demonstrate the continuing scandal of the Tory failure to act on the windfalls of war being pocketed by the oil and gas companies”.

“Instead of asking energy giants to be nice, [Chancellor] Jeremy Hunt should be fixing the gaping loopholes in the windfall tax on oil and gas profits,” he added.

Also calling for windfall tax reform, Liberal Democrat leader Ed Davey said it “beggars belief” that the “out of touch and failing” government is “still allowing energy firms to rake in extraordinary profits while millions of families struggle”.

Price comparison site Uswitch said the “strong” profits were linked to a “failing price cap”, adding that it was stifling competition.

It means suppliers have less reason “to innovate and offer cheaper, competitive deals that could bring prices down,” said Richard Neudegg, Uswitch director of regulation.

Analysts Cornwall Insight said the energy price cap “is expected to remain significantly above pre-pandemic levels for the foreseeable future”.

Energy firms have continued to make big profits from oil and gas, even though energy prices are not as high as they were last year.

Russia’s invasion of Ukraine in 2022 pushed up oil and gas prices and led to energy firms making record profits.

Oil and gas giant Shell said profits fell to $5bn (£3.9bn) in the April-to-June period, partly due to the fall in prices.

Shell said it had also been selling less oil and gas and making lower profits on refining.

What can I do if I can’t afford my energy bill?

Check your direct debit: Your monthly payment is based on your estimated energy use for the year. Your supplier can reduce your bill if your actual use is less than the estimation.

Pay what you can: If you can’t meet your direct debit or quarterly payments, ask your supplier for an “able to pay plan” based on what you can afford.

Claim what you are entitled to: Check you are claiming all the benefits you can. The independent Moneyhelper website has a useful guide.

Sponsored Day ads or banner ads

“Premium Themes”

I'll go into depth on all of these and how tumblr could make potential changes to improve their revenue anywhere from three to six months after it implements some or ideally all of these changes.

First tumblr ads and sponsored posts, these changes are going to be contingent on tumblr allowing its users to share, like, and comment on ads much like all other media sites currently allow. Or at least giving advertisers the ability to turn that on or off as a function.

The average tumblr post gets reblogged 14 times, that number increases significantly if the ad is engaging and actually caters to the communities wants and needs. My reasoning for giving users the ability to reblog ads is to increase user engagement while maintaining their current ad vetting process and all of the nonsensical ads that are run on tumblr 90% of the time.

The other reason for allowing tumblr users to share and comment on ads, or have it be an option for advertisers to turn on or off as they'd like, is that the appeal of tumblr is the ability to propagate and obsess over the most niche things (i.e OSHA.)

All the while allowing content that gets shared all over the internet bubble up to the top through the collective hand of the tumblr community. Along with this tumblr has no way for small users to share their own products or services, every single major site has a way for users to advertise their pages or products through the site.

Tumblr is a content machine that creates imagery and memes that get shared all the time across the internet, so the ability to share and curate its own ads is paramount to improving advertising and user engagement on tumblr.

My proposal here is for tumblr to expand its advertising capabilities to all users, while charging a flat rate fee to advertise on tumblr, with additional charges for popular tags or trending tags. Tumblr currently has no self service advertising system much like Facebook does for example. Where facebook charges a daily rate on cost-per-click(CPC) or cost-per-thousand(CPM)

Charging a flat rate fee at a rate of a day, week, month, or quarterly basis with variances in prices based on the lease term and what the advertisers would want to have their ads show up on certain tags. This would open up the doors for small businesses that don't want to advertise on places like facebook, twitter, or google with their complicated CPM and CPC models. Also bringing in more small locally owned businesses with the added value of less competition for ad space on tumblr.

This would also take some of the weight from tumblrs own advertising staff from having to explain a convoluted system to potential advertisers. Creating a simplified model with the the advent of tumblrs own infrastructure able to get a single post to a large variety of users. Where the current ad model uses a “shotgun” method to hit as many people as possible, the tumblr model could encourage advertisers to curate a more personalized and intimate experience that tumblr users would love.

Why not just advertise elsewhere? Tumblr still in fact gets over 300 million views a month as of June 2021 (Statosta), and the added benefit for users to be able to like, share, and interact with ads would allow ads that the community enjoys to be talked about more. Giving advertisers more honest feedback about their ads while increasing their SEO’s.

Also small businesses that can't compete with the vetting processes that are used on other sites, would have a better chance of developing their business and increasing their clientele on tumblr whose core demographics are approximately 60% millennial and 35% gen-z. This core demographic does in fact care about being able to shop at local stores, or even a store across the US that is trying to drum up its own online sales.

These ads could be placed inline on the tumblr dash while moving other sponsored ads to the right of the site on desktop, but making them alternate on mobile between user ads and sponsored ads.

Second, the display ads should be changed to allow tumblr users to share and further interact with ads to generate more user engagement, incentivizing more businesses and companies to build their brand status on tumblr. Tumblr has a good model for creating short diaries or daily vlogs for companies that wish to show off their products on social media. This includes smaller businesses and vlogers that want to post videos or tutorials of themselves on their blog.

Tumblr is a good site for user engagement with a pool of creative potential for anyone wanting to gauge the desire for a particular subject or piece of media, maybe even an upcoming show. Having the ability to share and comment on sponsored ads would also help advertisers by allowing them to get more bang for their buck with a considerable uptick on how users engage with that content.

Third, tumblrs sponsor day ads and banner ads are inexpensive and should be highlighted as a selling point over their competitors. Tumblr 24-hour banner ads are considerably more affordable for businesses when compared to places like twitter with their 200k price point. For the same amount of money on tumblr a business could have their company at the top of the dashboard or app for 8 whole days. Much longer and much better than the competition.

Keeping this price fixed, with a change in the price CPC is still a much more lucrative and attractive selling point than any of the competition on the internet today. I know this might not be exactly what tumblr wants to hear when it is hemorrhaging money right now, but let's look at the cost for these 24 hour daily ads and banner ads. If tumblr hypes up the price point on these ads they could see a significant rise in advertisers considering the lack of competition on tumblr and past success stories of companies who did advertise on tumblr.

At the same time larger advertisers should be encouraged to make engaging ads and blogs on tumblr that will make people want to actually go to their blogs, that then link to an external site or page. Not ads that instantly try to force you to go to some other site, by rewarding or offering special discounts for people who find a special code or something off of the actual blog. Or even for giving the same code to everyone who reblogs a certain post made by the advertiser.

Seems too good to be true? Look at “Asos” back in 2015 when they held a shirt design competition on their tumblr blog. Where they had 900 submissions, four of which were picked, and were sold out of the user generated shirts in 10 hours.

This is not the only case however, but FX ran their own campaign for the show “Man Seeking Woman” where they saw a 2.8% increase in user engagement, 86% increase in their tumblr followers, and they actually saved money through advertising on tumblr.

All this leads me to believe that tumblr actually was and continues to be the best place for brands, small businesses, and artists to develop themselves through genuine user engagement.

Finally, the “premium themes” that are available on tumblr that allow for unparalleled customizations that you hardly find elsewhere on the internet anymore. Tumblrs ability to take a variety of media sources, as well as having an unparalleled level of customization, user interconnectivity, and a vibrant artistic scene shows that it is ripe with potential.

Tumblr could still use its post+ feature, but in the same way that Discord uses its subscription service. For cosmetic changes that can be added modularly to the site or individual blogs for an additional monthly fee. In conjunction with partnering with community artists to bring small cosmetic additions to individual blogs, while paying the content creator and tumblr taking a small portion of the profits over a certain amount.

To be completely honest this is probably the hardest portion of this entire pitch to make changes to in a shorter period of time, considering all the testing and “under the hood” changes that must be made. However, I think that implementing this as well as the other changes I have proposed will bring back more foot traffic to tumblr as well as increase its revenue and profitability.

In closing, I am simply working with whatever information I was able to find online and a good amount of time invested on my part to do this. I think tumblr has a ton of potential still to return as a force for good for the communities that exist and want a change from what the internet has become. Time and time again when any company or public entity dies it was because it did not change and refused to adapt and innovate, oftentimes not at the hands of the people working everyday to keep the site running. Instead at the hands of people who dont see the value in what has fallen in their laps.

If you agree and think this is something that can be done, please reblog this post and follow me for more updates. If I don't hear back or this does not gain any traction by the end of the year, then tumblr can go to its inevitable end. I will be here sinking with the ship.

@support @engineering @music @wip @changes @photomatt

#tumblr plus #tumblr post plus #tumblr staff #advertising #marketing strategy #changes #tumblr premium #post plus protest #community #automattic

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ynscrazylife · 4 years ago

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A oneshot where Kara was away on a mission for a week and when she comes home its early in the morning she crawls in bed and snuggles with her adopted human daughter. The two of them just spend the morning together

Home Early

Summary: Kara returns home from a faraway mission a day early and spends the day with her daughter.

Authors Note: Thank you for requesting!

Request to be on a Taglist (or multiple) here! (Taglists are at the end of the fic)

DCEU Masterlist | Main Masterlist

PSA: Do NOT copy, steal, translate, plagiarize, republish, etc any of my works on Tumblr or any other platform. Also, do NOT claim any of my works as your own. All of works are either requests I’ve gotten that people have wanted me to write or original ideas I’ve had for works. If you happen to take inspiration from anything I’ve written and want to write something inspired by that, please a) ask me first and b) IF I say yes, credit me as inspo in your post by tagging me and link whatever work of mine that inspired you. Thanks.

header c @/mundodeseriess

It was safe to say that Kara Danvers was exhausted — if Kryptonians could even get exhausted. Per the DEO’s request she had to go to another planet for a mission for a few days, leaving behind her adopted, teenage human daughter in her sister Alex’s care.

She was on the ride back to Earth - day earlier than she had expected! - and texted her sister to let her know of her early arrival. However, she told Alex not to let her daughter Y/N know, Kara want to surprise her.

Now she was walking into her apartment, greeting Alex who told her that Y/N was still asleep. Kara thanked the brunette for taking care of her, hugged her, and bid her goodbye.

After Alex left, Kara went to Y/N’s room where sure enough, she was sleeping in. The blonde smiled and sat down, gently shaking Y/N’s shoulder.

The teenager stirred and when Kara shook her a little more, she mumbled something and rolled onto her back, slowly blinking her eyes open. “Mom?” She asked groggily and then, rising out of her sleepy state, sat straight up and wrapped her arms tightly around her mother. “Mom!”

“Hi, little star,” Kara greeted with a chuckle, a big smile gracing her face as she, too, wrapped her arms around her daughter, glad to be home.

“What are you doing here?” Y/N asked as she leaned back, matching Kara’s smile.

Kara chuckled again. “I finished a day early and wanted to surprise you - are you surprised?” She asked.

Y/N giggled and nodded. “But I’m tired,” she added, leaning back against her mountain of pillows. “Auntie Alex let me stay up and it was great - don’t get mad at her, by the way - but yeah, I’m tired.”

Kara playfully rolled her eyes and got under the covers beside her, putting her arm around her. “Wanna snuggle?” She asked, and Y/N nodded, leaning her head against Kara’s shoulder.

The mother and daughter laid there, relaxing and occasionally talking, for the next thirty minutes until Y/N got hungry. Kara ran down and got them bagels and they ate them while binging Y/N’s favorite television show.

For the rest of the day they spent it at their apartment. Kara told Y/N about her mission and Y/N told Kara about her time with Alex. They played board games, watched movies and television shows, and all around had lots of fun.

Permanent Taglist: @natasharomanoffismywife @hehehehannahthings @paulawand @blackbat2020 @cerberus-spectre @marrymemcgrath @celestialbarnes @narcissasslytherin @snipyloulou

DCEU Taglist: @stephanieromanoff @basiclesbianbitch @hi-i-1 @mmmmokdok

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anotherwritersblog · 4 years ago

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Title: So It's You

Chapter {1} - Body Like a Back Road

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Word Count: 1.2K-ish

Author's Note: This is supposed to be a multi-part series. It's been sitting in my Wattpad drafts since mid-September. Figured I'd pull it out and spruce it up a bit and actually post it somewhere. It was inspired by those TikToks of soulmates being connected by music I loved that idea and wish it were real 😂 Mine would be like wtf are they listening to? I originally had this swapping POVs per part, but we’ll see how things go 🤷🏻‍♀️ Any mistakes are my own.

Warning: this one's really just fluff, Reader enjoying time with her boys even if it's earlier than she'd like, Bucky being a flirt

Any and all reblogs/likes/comments are appreciated.

In no way, shape, or form, do you have permission to post this anywhere.

____________________

One of the craziest things about our universe, as I’m sure there are thousands, if not millions of others out there, is that we have an idea who our soulmate is.

Well. Sort of.

When we turn eighteen, we are automatically linked to our soulmate by the way of music. It’s not what they sing aloud, but what they sing in their mind. Many high school sweethearts were lucky enough to find out right away. For some, it took them a few years before they crossed paths whether it was college, work, or even something as simple as a coffee shop. But me? It’s been ten years and nothing.

By nothing, I mean I haven’t met them yet. Since I turned eighteen, I’ve heard their songs. They’ve been interesting choices to say the least, and I’ve definitely added a few to my favorites because of them. But no matter what, I can’t seem to find this person.

🎶 Got a girl from the Southside Got braids in her hair First time I seen her walk by Man I 'bout fell up out my chair Had to get her number It took me like six weeks Now me and her go way back Like Cadillac seats 🎶

It was your average, early morning Saturday run, except this time I was pulled into it by a few friends. Steve had the bright idea to get up before the sunrise, while Sam at least had the better idea of stopping by our favorite diner afterwards. Of course, Bucky had to throw in a little bet. The person who couldn’t keep up for the hour we would run, would have the pleasure of paying for breakfast

I think he was hoping Sam would fall out first.

I was jogging with Sam as Steve and Bucky were continuously passing us, lap after lap. "On your left!" Steve would yell, as Bucky accompanied him with "On your right!" It was cute the first nine times, but Sam glanced at me with annoyance each time after that.

"So, Y/N. What's your soulmate singing, today?" Sam questioned, as we rounded the corner. "You've been humming a song and I can't quite put my finger on it."

"Body like a back road," I replied.

"Ah. So, they must be nearby," he grinned, looking down at the concrete.

"Shut up. They are not!" I countered, hitting his arm.

"I'm just saying. They’ve gotta enjoy the way your body is looking this morning. Your leggings and tank top are hugging everything quite nicely," he laughed. I’m pretty sure I rolled my eyes so far back, that they would’ve gotten stuck if I hadn’t taken notice of the boys passing us again. Fortunately, Sam left me to my thoughts and tried to catch up to them.

🎶 The way she fit in them blue jeans She don't need no belt But I can turn 'em inside out I don't need no help Got hips like honey So thick and so sweet Ain't no curves like hers On them downtown streets 🎶

I stepped off to the grass and leaned against the tree to catch my breath. I glanced down at my watch and saw that I had already ran five miles in the last hour. I glanced back up to see the boys complete one more lap. The super soldiers let Sam know that they were passing him one last time. You could see the frustration in his face as they fist bumped after passing the slower of the three. Once hitting the last corner, they waited on Sam to catch up and they started walking towards me.

A smile crept onto my face as they were walking. I absolutely adored these three, as they were some of my best friends. The question What would I do without them? always popped into my mind when we hung out together, as I knew my life would not be nearly as entertaining. As I watched the three make their way over, Sam's comment from earlier made its way back into my mind.

So, they must be nearby.

The thought that one of them could be my soulmate crossed my mind for a split second but was just as quickly dismissed. Sam has always filled in that older-brother-I've-never-had figure, Steve stepped in as my new-mentor-turned-best-friend when I was welcomed into the Avengers, and Bucky. Well. Bucky took some warming up to, but he too became a best friend, just not in the same way as Steve. With Bucky, we can be crude and crack jokes around each other that Steve might not enjoy as much. We can engage in harmless flirting with each other and it not mean a thing at the end of the day. He became more open to me about his nightmares (albeit I have to pull it out of him sometimes) and I became more open about my mental health (which he has to pull out of me every once in a while so that I’m not bottling all my thoughts and feelings up).

These three will always have a special place in my heart, because I love them more than life itself sometimes. I'd do anything for them. But the possibility that any of the three are my soulmate?

As if.

🎶 We're out here in the boondocks With the breeze and the birds Tangled up in the tall grass With my lips on hers On a highway to heaven Headed south of her smile Get there when we get there Every inch is a mile 🎶

"Couldn't hang today, Y/N?" Steve asked as the boys came within earshot. A smirk made its way to Bucky's face, as Sam wiped the sweat from his. "You know what that means!"

"Yes. Breakfast is on me, but only AFTER everyone showers! I am NOT taking anyone anywhere with you lot smelling the way you do!" I laughed, pointing to the three men in front of me.

We start walking back to the compound when Bucky puts his right arm around me. "So, we gonna save time and water, and shower together, doll?" he whispered into my ear, as the other two walked ahead of us.

"Nice try, Sergeant. But that's not gonna happen. Not today," I shook my head, grabbing his hand with mine and squeezing it before pushing it away.

"So, another time then?" he teased. I felt his hand run down the small of my back and rub it gently before taking it away. I tuned back into Steve and Sam's conversation about what they were ordering for breakfast at the diner. It was a fairly peaceful walk back...until the four of us got into the debate about pancakes versus waffles.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes series #bucky barnes soulmate au #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #anotherwritersblog writing #it’s normal for my anxiety to hit high when I’m wanting to post #right?#😅

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ethanesimp · 4 years ago

Text

WHEN YOU’RE GONE // D.D.

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

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

Word Count: 9.8k (it’s so long lakjd)

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

Masterlist // Taglist link in bio

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

Taglist: @gretavanfleetlove @superchrystaldrug @reputationdamiano

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What would?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I-I… What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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tommyhollandaisesauce · 5 years ago

Text

Let Me Do The Work [t.h.]

MASTERLIST

Pairing: Tom Holland x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 6.2k idk how

Posted: 11/19/2020

Warnings: Fluff, smut, unprotected sex (wrap it up kids), oral sex (f receiving), maybe too much plot? and definitely a whole lotta lazy sex sue me you’re welcome.

Summary: Tom thinks you deserve a reward after a hard few days at work.

A/N: uhhhh I mean I think I covered all the bases lol. I rly hope you guys like this I think I started it over a year ago and only recently had the motivation to finish and post it. This is basically my brain baby so please lmk how you guys liked it and if you would like to be added to my taglist there’s a google form linked in my bio. Enjoy horn dogs!!

When Tom got home on Wednesday night the last thing he expected his girlfriend to say was “Wanna have sex?” He had asked a few times before if you could and your response was usually something to the effect of “Sorry babe, another time, I’m just exhausted.” He knew your job was taxing and took a lot out of you and, frankly, Tom could survive the work week without getting any. He also knew that once Friday night rolled around it was all systems go; the weekend was yours to fool around as much as you wanted. And he was willing to wait.

Asking never hurt, though. Tom wasn’t annoying about it, at least he hoped he wasn’t. And for all the times you’d asked to have sex after he had a particularly exhausting day on set and he agreed, he didn’t feel super guilty about asking now and then.

It was unusual that Tom would be so exhausted from working that he didn't have any energy left to have sex. There had been some rare days when Tom could barely keep his eyes open even though you were right there, naked and sweaty, and riding his cock right on the living room couch. Your hands would be resting on his broad shoulders, your fingers digging into the muscles beneath his freckled skin as you bounced on his cock and his hands could barely stay put on your waist or hips to help you move. Sure, he liked watching you rise and fall on his lap and he liked seeing himself disappear inside of you and he liked the way your tits bounced with every movement and he liked watching your face. God, he loved your gorgeous face.

Your eyes would flutter open and closed the closer you got and you’d look at him with your big, beautiful eyes that were dark and lust blown and your jaw would go slack and you’d throw your head back in pleasure. Your movements would get sloppier as you’d start shaking and convulsing while you came. His arms would lazily wrap around your waist to pull you closer and you’d nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck, breathing hard against his skin as you came down from your high. But Tom couldn’t find it in himself to even worry about his own orgasm, he just wanted to sleep.

So when he came home to your shared flat around 7 pm from walking Tessa on a particularly boring Wednesday, now that he had a break, and saw you lying on the couch with a glass of red wine in one hand and your other arm thrown over your eyes, he figured it was pointless to ask. You had gotten home sometime while he was out, didn’t bother changing out of your blouse and jeans just yet, popped a bottle open, and poured yourself a glass.

Tom unclipped the leash from Tessa’s collar, allowing her to run free around the flat. Immediately, she trotted over to you, nuzzling your legs with her nose until you caved and gave her a few scratches behind her ears. Tom slipped off his sneakers, padding over to you, causing Tessa to run off in search of her favorite toy. The couch sank under his weight as he sat down next to your head, your eyebrows raised at the shift.

“Hey, stranger,” you muttered, removing your arm from covering your half-lidded eyes. Your eyes sparkled in the dim living room lighting as you looked up at Tom. He couldn’t remember a single time they looked dull. Not during a fight, or when you were sad or tired or sick, never. They reminded him of stars. No matter what, they kept shining.

“Hi love,” Tom leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on your wine-stained lips. The upside-down angle was slightly awkward, but you’d be lying if you said you two hadn’t done the Spider-Man Kiss before, per his request.

You smiled up at him as he pulled away and closed your eyes. Tom threaded his fingers through your messy locks and you relaxed, even more, leaning your head into his hand.

“Long day?” He asked, continuing to run his fingers through your hair.

“Don’t even get me started,” you huffed out, dramatically throwing your arm back over your eyes, which made Tom chuckle at your antics.

“Tell me what happened?” He asked lovingly, and as you lowered your arm you raised a single eyebrow at him.

“You sure?” You asked cautiously, “Because I wouldn’t wish the shit I dealt with today on my worst enemy.”

Tom scoffed, shrugging his shoulders, “Try me.”

You sighed before beginning your story. Today had been insufferable. From the minute you clocked in, to the minute you clocked out, it had been hell. One coworker in particular, with whom you were not super close or friends in any way, kept nagging you about your relationship like she did every single day.

The incessant questioning and probing was getting old and, quite frankly, rude. The questions started out harmless, like everyone else’s when they found out the Tom Holland was your boyfriend. Some asked for autographs or pictures and you declined, saying that if he ever came in Tom would be more than happy to do that. And Tom agreed; you playing messenger was weird and not the type of thing either of you wanted people to get accustomed to. And most people understood; except for one.

The more she asked the worse they got. Personal questions were the norm now. Questions about family members and life together and sex. God, the sex questions never ended. ‘Is it good?’ and ‘What are you guys into?’ were some of her favorites. Sometimes she’d get creative with them and switch them up. And every time, you refused to answer. And you relayed this information to Tom like you did most days, and he rolled his eyes in annoyance at her ignorance before leaning down and pressing a soft kiss to your forehead when he saw you were getting riled up.

You softened immediately and sighed. Tom had a calming effect on you. Just being around him was relaxing. After so long together he still could calm you down. And he was cheaper than your copay for therapy, so hey why not vent to him?

“Just forget about her for now, babe,” Tom sighed out, continuing to stroke your hair, “she’s not worth your energy.”

“You're right,” you exhaled, “I’m home, I got my wine, I got my boy, I can relax.”

“Exactly,” Tom said, laughing at your words. He didn’t feel the need to say anything else as you both relaxed, his fingers still threaded in your hair, until a few more minutes went by, your eyes opened, and you turned your head to make sure you were setting down your not yet empty glass on the coffee table.

A soft “hey” escaped Tom’s lips as he watched you use your arms to lean up and turn to face him. He would’ve spoken more but was cut off as your lips pressed to his, the kiss awkward since you had caught him as he was speaking. His lips were slightly chapped and he tasted like spearmint gum as you hovered over him and moved your lips against his.

Tom sighed into the kiss, bringing one hand up to cup your cheek. You clumsily clambered into Tom’s sweatpants clad lap to straddle him and his other hand sat high on your thigh. The kiss was slow and passionate, neither of you in a rush to go further just yet. You melted into the kiss as his tongue slid along your lower lip to ask for permission to enter. You parted your lips immediately, allowing Tom access. After a few moments of lazily making out like teenagers, you pulled away to catch your breath. You closed your eyes, leaning your forehead against Tom’s as you both panted, trying to catch your breath.

“Can we go to our room?” You mumbled, just loud enough for Tom to hear. Your voice was low, soft, and a little shaky from being so tired. His eyes opened at your words and his ears perked up. Tom pulled his head away from yours and your eyes returned to their half-open state.

“I thought you were tired?” He questioned teasingly, tucking some strands of hair behind both your ears and resting his hands on your cheeks. You reached up and wrapped your fingers around Tom’s wrists, smiling sweetly at him. He was sure his heart damn near melted in his chest at the sight of his sleepy girlfriend asking to have sex with him.

“I am,” you said softly, smirking as Tom ran his hands down your sides and settled over your hips, “why do you think I wanna go to our room?” You joked, wrapping your arms loosely around his neck and ducking your head down to place soft kisses along the side of it. He sighed, tilting his head in the opposite direction to give you more room as your fingers carded through the short, soft curls at the back of his head.

“You sure?” Tom asked breathily, as you continued laying kisses across his jaw and below his ear, “Because I don’t want you to do it just because I want to-“

“Tom,” you huffed, pulling away from his neck, your hands migrating to rest on his shoulders. He straightened up and opened his eyes as the feeling of your soft lips disappeared from his neck. “I’m sure. Now shut up and take me to the bedroom.”

He smiled up at you as he snaked one of his large hands around your waist and the other under one of your legs before shakily standing up. You yelped at the jerky, clumsy action and wrapped your arms tighter around Tom’s neck and your legs around his waist. Tessa jumped up from her bed where she had been lying from the sudden movement as Tom carried you down the hall to where your bedroom was, the door ajar. You giggled as he almost smacked both of you into the door frame and nuzzled your face into the crook of his neck. Tom kicked the door gently to push it open before entering the room, turning around, and kicking it closed again. Tessa scratched at the door for a few seconds before giving up and trotting off back to her bed.

The room was cool and dimly lit by two bedside lamps and the computer monitor on the desk, which had yet to go dark and was emitting a hazy, red-orange glow on everything in the room. The window was cracked open to allow some fresh air in and the sheer, white curtains fluttered every so often due to a random gust of wind.

The room still smelled like Tom though. Sure the scent of your lavender body wash and coconut and vanilla hair products and the eucalyptus candle you occasionally burned was lingering, but it was predominantly Tom scented. It was a clean and fresh smell, not shoe polish or sandalwood or, god forbid AXE. It was a perfect balance of pine and rain and laundry detergent. God, if you could bathe in Tom’s smell you would. It was intoxicating. And having the direct source of the smell pressed against you did little to quell the ache that had appeared between your thighs.

However, Tom never closed doors behind him. The door to the walk-in closet you and Tom shared was halfway open, as was the bathroom door. He always left them just open enough where he could get in and out without having to touch the door. You had no clue when the habit had started. It was only mildly annoying, one of those things you find out about a person only after you start living with them, and you always went and closed them after him. As much as you reminded him to close them, and as much as he promised he would, he never did. Tonight, however, was an exception. One, you were far too tired to do so, and two, there were far more pressing matters at hand than some open doors.

When Tom walked over to the bed until his knees hit the edge and he gently laid you down on top of the soft covers, all thoughts of open doors were immediately forgotten. You relaxed instantly into the comforter, one of your legs propped up and bent at the knee, your arms up by your sides, with one hand absentmindedly scratching at your shoulder. Tom settled his hands at your ankles, rubbing soft circles into the exposed skin with his thumbs as his eyes raked over your body.

You took this time to admire Tom. There aren't enough words in the English language to describe how gorgeous Tom Holland is, even in sweats and an old t-shirt. Everything about him made you crave him more. His loose curls and warm brown eyes and soft smile and broad shoulders and, god, everything about this man drove you wild. You knew that what was hiding under his tight, white t-shirt and grey sweats was worth the many minutes — maybe hours — of sleep you’d lose tonight.

“God, I love you so much,” Tom broke the silence, as he crawled up your body to rest directly on top of you, between your parted legs. His hand trailed up your legs and sides before it settled on your waist and the other on your cheek. Your own hands snaked around his neck, and you pulled him down for a kiss, both of you closing your eyes as your lips collided, melting into one another. Tom quickly picked up right where you left off on the couch, swiping his tongue against your lower lip. Just as quickly, you opened your mouth and his tongue slipped inside, running against your own. Tom wrapped one arm tightly around your waist and with his other arm, he picked you up and pulled both of you higher up on the bed, gently placing you back down amongst the soft pillows.

“Now,” Tom spoke into the kiss after a few moments, “let’s get you outta these jeans.”

“What?” You mumbled against his lips, feigning offense, as his nimble fingers popped open the button on your dark grey, straight leg jeans and pulled down the zipper, “You don’t like my jeans?”

“No, I love your jeans,” he responded, still kissing you, “but right now they’re in the way.”

At that, Tom stuck his fingers through the belt loops on either side of your hips and broke away from the kiss, sitting back on his legs and pulling the denim down your legs. Once you were free of your jeans, he repositioned himself above you and attached his lips to your neck, just as you had done to him earlier. His fingers reached for the buttons on your blouse and clumsily began to undo them. Your hands were in his hair as he left open mouth kisses along your neck and jaw, occasionally biting down a little before running his tongue over the spot to soothe the skin. You could already tell there’d be some dark marks on your neck Tomorrow, but at this point, you didn’t care. You’d just wear a turtleneck the next day.

Eventually, Tom was able to undo all the buttons on your blouse. He pushed the creamy white satin down your shoulders and arms, tossing it somewhere in the room, his lips never leaving your skin. You were now only in your underwear, the chill from the cool air seeping in from the window causing goosebumps to form across your body. Soft, quiet moans escaped from your lips as Tom continued his attack on your newly exposed collarbones and chest. One of his hands came up to massage your breast through the light blue, lace bra you were wearing as he left sloppy kisses over your chest, and you could tell that you were completely soaked watching him do this. He looked up at you from between your breasts, one hand still resting on top of your left one, a cheeky smirk gracing his thin lips at the noises you were emitting.

“I like this color,” Tom said, his voice low and husky but he was grinning. As he spoke, he snapped the band of the bra against your ribs, the sting causing you to flinch a little, “it suits you.”

“Then you’ll be pleased to know that I’m matching today,” you whispered, still heaving slightly. Tom furrowed his eyebrows as he looked down and sure enough, you were wearing matching lace bottoms, not entirely unintentionally. Beaming up at you, Tom traveled down your body, his fingers grazing gently over your skin and his hot breath tickling you as his lips left soft kisses across your stomach, sparks dancing across your flesh in their wake. Slowly, he settled between your legs, your thighs thrown over his shoulders with your feet planted on the mattress on either side of his torso. His own hands were on your hips, holding you down against the bed. He pressed a few gentle kisses on your inner thighs as he began pulling the sides of your underwear down your hips.

Raising your butt off the mattress to help, Tom was able to carefully pull the delicate lace completely off your legs. There had been one prior occasion where he had tugged at your underwear just a little too hard and ripped the fragile material and you had not been too pleased with him after that. From then on, regardless of the nature of the activity, he was very careful in removing your underwear.

Once your underwear had been discarded, he resumed his place between your thighs, his hands finding yours and resting on your stomach just above your hips. Tom continued laying gentle kisses on your hips and inner thighs, everywhere but where you needed him most, each one followed by a soft exhale from you. After a few moments of teasing, he pressed a soft kiss directly on your clit, before licking a long stripe up between your folds. Your breathing hitched as Tom started working on your clit, alternating between gently pulling and sucking at it and circling it with his tongue. It didn’t take long before your back was arching off the bed and your legs began squirming around his head, the familiar knot forming in your lower stomach. Soft pants fell from your lips as Tom pulled away for a second to breathe, eyes fanning over your body, before diving back in, your hands squeezing his own as he reconnected with your pussy. Soon after, your legs began to shake and you bucked your hips upwards, Tom following your movements. As he continued applying firm pressure to your clit, you felt the knot snap, your toes curling and your head falling back into the pillows as you came. White-hot pressure flowed through your body as you rode out your orgasm, a string of soft moans and curses filling the room.

Tom’s tongue rolled lazily around your clit as you exhaled heavily, your body jolting forward and sharp gasp leaving your throat when he lightly pulled on it with his lips. You felt another shock roll through your body as he continued massaging your clit. He slipped his right hand out of your grip, the other laying flat against your lower abdomen, holding you down as you bucked your hips again. He lifted his head, making direct eye contact with you. His stunning brown eyes beamed up at you through his long eyelashes, clouded over with lust and reflecting the faint light of the lamps on either side of the bed. His breath fanned over your heat, sending chills down your legs.

He was giving you a break. Just because you were tired did not mean Tom was, and after a few days with no action, he was ready to show you just how desperate he was for some.

“More,” you begged, pushing some damp curls that had fallen away from his forehead back. His free hand lowered to between your legs, his touch feather-light as he ran his index finger through your folds, soaked with your own arousal as well as his saliva.

“More?” he questioned teasingly, moving his finger in a figure-eight motion around your clit and your opening, dipping in just for a second before retreating. You nodded quickly to answer him, not trusting yourself to use your voice. “Use your words, baby.”

“Yes,” you choked out as he circled your clit, “please, more.”

“Thought you were tired?” Without even looking at him, you knew he was smirking. You could hear it in his voice. You exhaled in annoyance, groaning quietly as he continued to torment you. He chuckled at your reaction, finally giving in and placing his lips back on your core, as well as slipping a single finger inside, and very soon after, a second. You inhaled sharply at the new feeling, hands darting down to run your fingers through his soft hair, tugging at the curls as if you could control him like a puppet. Either that or he just knew exactly what you wanted, circling and pulling on your sensitive clit while simultaneously pumping his fingers inside you, curling them up ever so slightly to graze your g-spot.

Reaching your second orgasm took mere minutes, leaving you spent and panting harder than after the first. You knew that unless you pulled him away, he’d continue his assault on you. Breathing heavily with parted lips, you tugged harder than before on his hair until his lips left your body with a quiet pop, his own breathing heavy as well. You pushed your fingers through the dark curls that had fallen over his forehead again, attempting to smooth them down. Fortunately or unfortunately, you weren’t sure, but they refused to settle, instead sticking up in odd angles from your constant tugging. Either way, he looked beautiful, all messy hair and lust-filled eyes. Glancing down at him, his glistening lips pressed a kiss to your inner thigh, and another, and another, working up your body until he was eye level with you. His hand settled on your ribcage and yours on the back of his neck as he kissed you roughly on the lips, teeth clashing together, letting you taste yourself.

Tom hovered over you as your lips danced with his for a few minutes, rough and passionate, his large hands grasping at and exposed skin he could find, which was quite difficult considering you were still wearing a bra. His arms coiled around you to get to the clasp, forcing you to wind your arms tighter around his neck and arch your back to create enough room for his arms to pass under you. You could feel him tug at the clasp with one hand, unable to undo it, too distracted by your teeth grazing his bottom lip to adequately focus on the task at hand, which was to get you fully naked.

He just wanted to see you, why was this so fucking difficult?

“Tom, just let me-” you began to say, but Tom quickly cut you off with a firm “no” before fully sitting back on his heels, still leaning over you. His other hand now joined the first in trying to unclip your bra. Propping yourself up on your elbows, your head rolled back, an exaggerated sigh leaving your mouth. You weren’t sure why he insisted on always taking off your bra for you, but boy did he need the practice. As many times as he has tried and you demonstrated, it always took him a few moments, his fingers fumbling with the delicate clasp.

“Oh, for fucks sake-” you snapped, giving up and scooching up to sit up straight, Toms hands falling from behind you and settling in your knees. You didn’t have time for this tonight. His back straightened as he sat up to watch you work your magic, the outline of his thick cock on display under his grey sweatpants catching your attention, all but making you drool. You reached your hands behind you, swiftly undoing the clasp and beginning to tug the delicate straps down your shoulders.

“I almost had it,” you laughed as Tom attempted to salvage what was left of his ego, causing him to pout at you. Why was he so darn cute?

“Maybe on a day when I’m not as tired,” you said, fully pulling the bra from your body, “you can finally get it right, but right now we’re on borrowed time. Head can only boost my energy for so long.”

Tom rolled his eyes briefly before redirecting them to your chest, his hands traveling up from your knees to your shoulders to push you back onto the bed. He resumed his position above you, still fully clothed while you lay under him, completely exposed. His legs settled on either side of one of your thighs, his cock pressing firmly into your leg, straining against his pants. Another wave of chills, which Tom noticed, ran down your body as a gust of wind blew into the room, the cold causing your nipples to harden immediately.

“You cold?” he smirked, bringing a hand up to pinch your left nipple, rolling the bud teasingly between his thumb and index finger. You squinted your eyes at him, which caused him to chuckle.

“Yes, actually-” before you could finish, Toms’s fingers stilled and he gestured over to the open window, his head turning to follow his hand, asking if he should close it. Cupping his cheeks between your hands and turning his face back to you, you exclaimed, “No, oh my god, just fuck me already!”

The look of surprise on Tom’s face at your outburst was that of pure shock, as he very evidently did not expect you to be so desperate. Alternatively, the look on your face was one of slight annoyance as well as desperation and it set Tom into a frenzy. Your eyes were stars again; deep and dark and gleaming with desire. He swore he could see every constellation, every supernova, every inch of the cosmos in your beautiful eyes. After a moment, he whispered, “As you wish,” before leaning down to capture your lips in a softer, slower kiss.

Tom relished this moment. He was with you, the most important, precious person in his life and he got to see you like this. Which reminded him: he was still clothed. You seemed to have had a similar thought, as he felt your delicate fingers graze the sides of his torso as you searched for the hem of his shirt. Finding it, you started pulling it up, allowing Tom to break away from the kiss to pull the t-shirt over his head and chuck it somewhere into the room before reconnecting his lips with yours.

You raked your nails down his pecs as he deepened the kiss, slipping his tongue past your lips. The sensation caused Tom to exhale into the kiss, eliciting a giggle from you. He broke away from your lips, ghosting over your jaw before settling on your neck in a spot he had yet to leave a mark on. You traced your hands down his muscular chest and over the prominent grooves of his abs, settling on his waistband and undoing the loose bow he’d tied. Pushing his sweats and boxers down at the same time, he kicked them off, letting them fall over the foot of the bed and land on the ground with a soft thud. His cock audibly slapped against his lower abdomen, the head red and already leaking precum. Reaching down with one hand, you wrapped your fingers around his length, spreading the sticky fluid around his sensitive tip with your thumb causing him to rut into your hand. You pumped your hand a few times slowly, using your fingers to press against that one extra sensitive spot right under the head, making Tom gasp against your neck.

You could feel Tom’s hands reach down to push your legs open for him to settle between them, the tip of his dick mere inches from your entrance. He was now out of reach, and he hissed softly at the loss of contact between your hand and his very erect cock. His arms rested on the bed on either side of your head, hot breath fanning over your face. His eyes were half-open and glossy as he looked down at you, writhing under him, waiting for him to fill you.

“Ready?” he whispered against your lips. Since day one, Tom always asked for explicit consent before, always making sure that you were comfortable. You loved it. It was never a mood killer, in fact, it made the whole interaction that much more intimate.

“Yeah,” you whispered breathlessly as you gazed up at him, nodding slightly. You tilted your head up to catch his lips in another kiss, full of passion and desire and love. God, you loved this man so much it would surely be the death of you.

After a few moments, he pulled back, looking you directly in the eyes and whispering a quiet “okay”, one of his hands moving down to hold his dick, running the tip through your soaked folds, grazing your clit, and causing you to jump at the unexpected feeling. Guiding himself in, he slowly slid into your drenched core until his hips were flush with the backs of your thighs. Tom’s eyes fluttered shut, and his eyebrows furrowing as a exhale of pleasure left his lips at the feeling of your walls tightening around him. “Fuck...” He grunted through clenched teeth.

He waited like that, buried inside your tight pussy, letting you adjust to the feeling of his cock inside you. And he’d wait like that until you would tell him to move. While he waited his lips ran over your neck and shoulder, leaving soft, loving kisses in their wake. After a few moments, you tugged on his messy hair, signaling him to look up at you. “Move,” you pleaded quietly before he pressed his lips to yours and adjusted himself to begin moving. Your eyes fell closed as he pulled his hips back slowly, until he was almost out, then snapped them forward in one fluid motion, causing you to yelp. He eased into a steady rhythm, rocking his hips, hitting that one spot deep inside you that made you yelp every time the tip of his dick hit it.

“Y/n/n, open your eyes.” He whispered sweetly against your skin as he left soft kisses on your cheek and jawline. You complied, letting your eyes slowly flutter open and look up at the ceiling, Tom soon emerging from the crook of your neck to meet your gaze, smiling. You took this opportunity to admire him as he hovered above you. His short hair was a sweaty, tousled mess, sticking up in odd directions from your fingers tugging at it earlier. His thin, pink lips were now swollen and darker from your fervent kisses. His freckled cheeks were flushed a deep pink. His dark brown eyes made you melt, looking down at you in a way that made you forget about everything else going on in the world. It was just the two of you, in the home you shared, making love.

You snaked your arms around Tom’s toned body, your nails leaving crescent-shaped indents on his shoulder blades, pulling him as close as you could get him as his thrusts sped up, becoming sloppier. His hand slipped between your bodies and rubbed rapid circles around your already overly sensitive clit. Gasps and moans fell from both of your lips. You could feel the familiar knot already tightening in your abdomen as his thrusts became more erratic. He knew you were close, your walls clenching around him as he relentlessly pounded into you, chasing his own high to catch up to you.

“Tom- Tommy I’m close.” Your words were music to his ears, he knew he wouldn’t be able to last much longer. He dropped his head back into the crook of your neck, littering your skin with kisses to muffle the loud moans that threatened to spill from his throat that he knew would certainly annoy the neighbors. One of your hands traveled up the base of his neck into his hair, closing your finger in his curls, pulling on them gently the way you knew drove him crazy.

“I know,” he panted against your neck, “me too.” His fingers never stilled, continuing to rub fast, tight circles against your clit until you crashed over the edge, the knot in your stomach snapping for the third time that night, pleasure-filled spasms racking your body, and loud moans spilling from your lips. A few more rough thrusts and the muscles in his shoulders tensed, his body lurching against yours as he came, releasing inside you. His lips found yours as you both tumbled over the precipice in unison, one of his arms wrapping around your waist and snaking up your back, his hand settling between your shoulder blades. He held you up like that, your back slightly arched and your breasts pressed against his chest as he continued to sporadically buck up inside you, riding out both your highs until he couldn’t support his weight anymore and he collapsed on top of you, still inside you.

You pulled him close, wrapping your arms around his neck as he gently placed his forehead against yours, both of you panting as if you had just run a marathon. You both stay like that for a few moments, chests meeting with every inhale, breathing the same air. Groggily, your eyes open only to find Tom already looking at you, his dark chocolate eyes soft and a small smile gracing his lips as he admired you in your post-orgasm bliss. Your cheeks were flushed, dark eyes hidden behind half-closed lids, and lips a deep pink and kiss-swollen.

"What?" You asked, placing your hand on the side of his face, stroking his cheekbone delicately with your thumb. He leaned deeper into your touch, relishing in the feeling of your soft hand caressing his face.

"Nothing," he muttered, "You're just amazing."

"Amazing in bed?" You asked sarcastically, a cheeky grin spreading across your lips, "Thanks, I try."

"No-" he starts, before seeing the bewildered look on your face and correcting himself, "well, yes, you are, but I meant in general. I love you so much Y/n, I don't know what I'd do without you."

You looked up at him in surprise. Moments of vulnerability like this were not uncommon between the two of you. You both frequently told the other how much they meant to you, how you couldn’t imagine life without the other person. And yes, this did usually occur right after sex, when both your emotions and hormones were at a high. No matter how many times he said things like this you could never get used to the sound of his voice saying those words to you.

“How did I get so lucky?” You wondered aloud, continuing to run your thumb over his cheek.

“Dunno,” he said cheekily, shrugging his shoulders, “good karma?”

Your melodic laugh filled his ears, your eyes closing as you giggled at his stupid joke. He leaned down to kiss you, cutting off your laughing. Your arms wound around his neck again as he deepened the kiss, slipping his tongue past your lips, making you groan. After a moment he pulled back, placing a kiss on your cheek and gently pulling out of you, flopping onto the bed next to you. He pulled you into his side, holding you in his arms. You nuzzled your head against his chest, his heart still beating rapidly under your hand. You two laid like that for several minutes, sweaty and warm, stuck to one another.

Your eyelids began getting heavy and you almost slipped off into a deep sleep before Tom shifted under you, gently rolling you off him and getting up to go to the bathroom. You could hear water running for a few seconds before shutting off and Tom emerged from the doorway holding a washcloth. He sat down on the edge of the bed and used the warm towel to clean up the mess between your legs before setting it down on the bedside table. He leaned down, kissed your forehead, and mumbled something against your temple. "Wanna go again?"

Your eyes shot open. He flashed you a crooked smile, raising his one messy eyebrow suggestively. Is he serious?

“Tom, I’m so tired-” you started, but he cut you off with a peck on the lips, short and sweet.

“That’s not what I asked love,” his voice was lower, seductive, as he maneuvered to hover over you again, his head dipping into the crook of your neck to lay more kisses down on your already heavily marked skin. He is serious, oh my god.

You hesitated for a moment before caving in, “Yeah…” you trailed off as he nipped at your collarbone, “but I have no energy anymore.”

“That’s alright darling,” he whispered into your ear, sending chills down your spine at the pet name that he knew would drive you crazy, “you just relax and let me do all the work.”

A/N: The amount of times Grammarly told me I had errors when I was writing this when I didn’t was ridiculous oml lol but hey it’s done!! I’m really proud of it obviously I will keep writing and will get better, but hey my first fic and I don’t hate it. anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed this, requests are open right now so if you would like a short lil blurb feel free to send me something!

Tags: @hollandprkr @itstaskeen

#tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland fanfic #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fluff #tom holland smut #peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker fanfic #peter parker fluff #peter parker smut #peter parker fanfiction #tommyhollandaisesauce

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mako-bones · 4 years ago

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Year Walk (A Zelpha Story)

I have this posted on AO3, but I'd like to post it here as well! This is the second chapter, and it's under a cut since it is kinda long.

Chapter One: The Walk Begins

Chapter Two: Since We Were Kids

Word Count: 2342

~~~

Oh, Jabu-Jabu, this may be the worst day of my life.

Mipha's face was flush with bright blue as the floor slowly receded, flooding out in murmurs and gossip per the request of King Dorephan.

"It IS about lunchtime...Let the Council take a recess and we will return tonight. Mipha? A word. In private, please."

Yes, this was quickly transpiring into the worst day of her life.

The two took a left, into a spacious room decorated in the abundance of silver and aqua blues. Narrow columns served as the only vague doors, but no one was around to think of eavesdropping on the King and Princess.

Dorephan stopped and faced his daughter.

Anxiously, Mipha wrung her hands together, debating between meeting her father's concerned eyes or easily focusing on the wall elsewhere. Although it was hard to ignore his deep, rumbling voice as he hummed.

"You look tired, Mipha-"

"Father, what day is it?" Mipha blurted out again. "What time is it? I-I can't seem to remember what happened yesterday, or the day before that. And I apologize in advance , but I don't know what's going on-"

"Mipha." Dorephan knelt down, resting a hand on her shoulder and squeezing gently. He lifted another hand to his chest. "Take a deep breath. In...And out..."

While her eyes closed, and she slowly inhaled a shaky breath, she missed the way Dorephan's gaze turned to great worry, but disappeared when she opened her eyes again.

"Could you tell me how you're feeling? You've never been one for bad mornings...And yet, I've never seen you so scared before."

Mipha ran her hands down her face, dropping them into her lap. Slowly, she recounted the events of her nightmare. Leaving out the grisly, goreish battle, and the deja vu paradox she seemed to have found herself in.

It was her and Ruta, against a fearsome enemy. Alone and afraid.

Dorephan scratched at his chin, staring intently at the floor as he listened. Eventually he sighed. "I knew this was a mistake."

"Father?"

"Mipha...You looked so happy when the Hylians and Zorans unearthed the Divine Beast. It was quite endearing, seeing how excited you were when you’re usually so serene. But...Is this truly what you want?”

“Not because it's expected of you, or thrown upon you.” He continued. “But deep down, I encourage you to consider what this truly means. Do you understand?"

Deep down, she did. And she also did not.

She had to be the pilot. Her family, her home, her entire world counted on her. No one would know what it meant to be killed by the monster inside the belly of the beast, and in a strange sense, it was hers to conquer. Again and again all alone, so be it. So long as no one else had to.

And she nodded. "Yes, I understand." She took another breath in and out. “If it’s alright, Father…”

“Go ahead.” Dorephan finished, nodding. “Be mindful of the time, however.”

Mipha’s grateful smile was wobbly and drained, but she dove forward to hug Dorephan tightly before finally taking off through the halls again.

This time, she went the back way, avoiding the flood of curiously wandering Hylians and Zora.

In the East Reservoir Lake, Vah Ruta sat in the same spot she did a year ago. Or was it yesterday? It was the same spot that Mipha had remembered.

Perched between sand and water, her trunk was lifted high into the air, her head tilted to peer at the sky. She did not move, not even as Mipha swam closer.

“Although this may seem like the first time, weren’t you there when the world ended? Was that really you, or was it your ghost and mine?”

No move.

Mipha raised herself from the water, turning and sitting on the shore. The elephant towered over her even more so, its silhouette casting a gigantic shadow over the Zora. Mipha kicked her feet in the water as she continued to ramble.

"Nightmare or not, something was real. Something happened, that much I believe. Though I'm not quite sure how...Or why...At least I have another chance. We have another chance. All the things we never got to say or-"

"Is that you, Princess? Ah, I would know that voice anywhere."

Grass and leaves crunched beneath high heeled shoes, brushed away by a long azure dress. Mipha jumped, eyes trailing up Zelda's dress until she met her dark brown eyes.

There was a look that Mipha couldn't recognize, paired with her smile that didn't quite reach.

"Are you feeling alright?" Zelda asked, finally stopping a few steps away. Her neck craned upwards and she squinted.

"And I thought you did not want to be a pilot. Yet..."

"I was just...Becoming familiar with her, that's all." Mipha said. "I don't really mean what I said at the Domain. I panicked."

"I know." Zelda flashed another smile. "I could see it in your eyes. What had you so rustled? Was it me? I know we haven't had much time to meet since we were kids, right?"

"Right." Mipha nodded, and slid back into the cool water. She gestured to Zelda to follow along the shoreline. "It was only a bad night, Princess. And a hasty morning--But now that you're here, it's becoming much brighter."

Zelda playfully rolled her eyes, kicking a small branch aside. "I can say the same about you."

She paused, and then quietly said, "You seem...Different, now."

"Different?"

"In a good way!" Zelda added quickly, raising her hands. She laughed in a short bark, tucking her hair behind her reddened ear. "I only meant that...Uh...It's just nice to see you again."

They had reached the end of the lake, where a wide pier was stocked with benches, beds under luminous stone canopies, and even snacks in chests nearby. Zelda plopped down on one of the benches while Mipha lingered in the water, leaning on her crossed forearms.

"I do hope I've changed since we were children. You...Also seem different." Mipha squinted, but she couldn't place it. Was it her hair, or maybe her blushing cheeks?

Speaking of blush...

"Have you and Link gotten along well enough?"

Zelda's eyes blew up wide. She looked horrified, confused. She sputtered and sat up straighter. "Link...?"

Mipha blinked, wondering if she should press on or backtrack while she was still ahead. "Your bodyguard, yes? The knight that--Is very skilled in his line of work."

"I-I haven't heard of anyone like that, Princess." Zelda cleared her throat. "Are you a fortune teller now, as well as a Pilot and future queen?"

Mipha sank into the water, cheeks dusting blue. "How do you know for certain that I'm a Pilot? I could easily say no, you know."

Suddenly a rumbling and grinding of stone made both women jolt up, Mipha spinning around to face the noise.

Vah Ruta began to raise her trunk, slowly backing into the water. Zelda tilted her head, ready to begin documenting as she noticed it sinking into the water. But only halfway...

It lifted its trunk, and spewed water like a broken fountain straight into the air. In only a few seconds, Mipha felt heavy raindrops beating down on her skin, rippling the water in a mini rip current.

"Ruta?!" Mipha lifted her head from the rough waters, a scowl on her face. "We talked about this, don't you remember? We are going to have another talk about this...Later. Oh, don't look at me like that, that was very rude!"

Mipha shook her fins out, huffing. To a Zora, it was hardly any different than a light shower. No clothes to ruin, no skin to prune and wrinkle. But for Hylians…

Oh, no. It was then that Mipha realized that Zelda was still standing, clothes ruined and her fingers no doubt beginning to wrinkle. Her face and expression was covered by her soaked hair, but she was staring up at Ruta. Then at Mipha as she quickly jumped out of the lake.

“Princess! Oh, I hope your dress isn’t ruined. Come with me--Surely there’s something at the Domain you can wear as your clothes are mended to. Is that alright?”

“Ah…” Zelda pulled apart her hair to reveal a dazed expression--She couldn’t believe what just happened, and neither could Mipha. “R-Right. Thank you, Mipha.”

As they quickly hurried to the nearby stairs, Zelda turned her head back to stare at Vah Ruta, still in shock. That had never happened before…

"It's not everyday I find something to be surprised about," Zelda mused as she pulled the silver comb through her hair--Short, brown locks that were beginning to bounce with lively curls.

"Is this about the water, Princess?" Mipha turned with another towel in hands, a scarce fabric in the Domain--But luckily there were a few on hand for the unexpected guests in the palace. "I apologize for-"

"Ahaha, no!" Zelda shook her head. "It’s just that...You spoke to the Divine Beast with such...Familiarity. And although it seemed rather playful, teasing us with that rainstorm...It obeyed you immediately."

Zelda rested her hands in her lap, staring at Mipha through the vanity's mirror. "...It just goes to show that there's more sentience to these machines than anyone could have assumed. It raises more questions about the relationship between a Divine Beast and its Pilot. It's fascinating, is all.

It makes me wonder how the rest of the chosen Pilots will follow..."

Mipha blinked, stopping short in her walk to deliver more towels. She had completely forgotten about the others. Revali, Daruk, Urbosa...Did they have the same nightmare, too?

"You're staring." Zelda's eyes flashed with worry, checking her own appearance again. "Did I forget a tangle? Is there a frizz where I can't see?"

"Oh, no, Princess. It's quite beautiful, if I may say." Mipha stepped forward, setting down the cloth to hover a hand near Zelda's head. "It looks...Different, than I remember. What did you do differently?"

And then it hit Mipha, right after the words escaped. At one point, she had remembered Zelda's hair being thick, and long. Always braided tightly down her back in a multitude of elegant braids, decorated in gold to match her dark brown skin. She gasped.

"You did cut your hair!"

Zelda's eyes widened, before she smiled. "Yes, I did." She laughed, a melodic sound that brought a faint blush to Mipha's cheeks.

"I...like it this way. I like it this way." Zelda repeated, nodding her head in confidence. "And there's plenty of hairstyles I can experiment with now. One for every occasion!"

Mipha hummed, and gently trailed her fingers through the ends of the curls.

"It fits you perfectly." She sent a warm smile to the mirror, and stepped back to give Zelda room, hands clasped together.

Zelda's cheeks flushed, but she quickly finished brushing her hair back and pulled it back out of her face. "There's something I'd like to ask of you, Princess."

When she asked, the entirety of the Domain was asking too. The King was waiting, subtle worry etched into his expression.

"Graceful Princess of the Proud Zora, will you accept the humble call to stand with me against the evil that may threaten my home and yours, and become the Pilot to steer Divine Beast Vah Ruta?"

The whole world was holding their breath, and Mipha's heart thrummed in her chest like it did the first time--The theatrics of it all never failed to give her stage fright.

"I accept."

And it was sealed. Mipha turned from the cheering crowd, looking up at her father who only smiled reassuringly with a small nod. He seemed like he was holding back many things, keeping it under a calm expression in the gaze of his only daughter.

"Father...You won't have to worry about losing me ever again. I swear it this time."

"I won't lie." Dorephan let out a sigh, drumming his fingers in a slow rhythm. "As a father, I'm always worried for the wellbeing of my children. But you rise to this challenge with such determination and courage that I cannot stand in your path, only walk next to you and pray that you'll return home safe and sound. In my heart, I know you will. Yet it is still hard to let you go."

Dorephan looked over Mipha's shoulder. "Princess Zelda."

Quickly, Zelda waved to another Zora guard she had been speaking to and stepped to the dais, bowing. "Your Majesty?"

"I understand that the plan is the same?"

"Ah--Yes, Your Majesty-" Zelda reached for the Sheikah device on her hip, flicking away droplets of water as it powered to life under her touch. She tapped away, focused and calculated. Mipha curiously glanced over, watching a detailed map of the land and its various landmarks flicker across the screen.

Colored lines and grids drew across the map, obviously hand-drawn in their wobbly

curves.

In the region over Zora's Domain, a tiny creature similar to Ruta animated its trunk on screen.

"Everything is still on schedule. Princess, tomorrow we'll head for Hyrule Castle to regroup our supplies and soldiers, and then begin our journey to the next region of Hyrule, in regards to the next Pilot."

"In that case...take good care of each other." Dorephan nodded to them both. "I have no doubts in my Mipha's abilities, but I surely do not mean to downplay your own strengths. I only ask that you watch each other's backs...Whatever the case may be...In and out of battle."

Zelda and Mipha both glanced at each other, a faint smile shared between them.

And Dorephan, sitting back and waving them off, his fears begrudgingly took the backseat as he nodded to himself. Of course there would be a flood of Hylian and Zora guards to accompany them; But there was always something special about placing your faith in a friend...And their faith in you.

#botw #breath of the wild #legend of zelda #mipha #fic time; year walk #fic time; mipha naphela #princess zelda #zelpha #age of calamity #hwaoc #fanfiction

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