Pairing: Damiano David x reader
Summary: As Damiano goes away on the tour with his band mates he has to deal with leaving his home behind. You.
Warning/s: random couple making out, alcohol and that's about it.
Author's note: So English isn't my first language so I apologize for any grammar or spelling mistakes (I'm really trying). Also, I don't know Italian so if I wrote anything wrong Google translate is taking the blame. Enjoy!
(Y/E/C) - your eye color
"There'll be no summer
There'll be no spring
If not for this love of mine
Thrones without flowers
Bars with no drinks
If not for this love of mine
All this lights
All the parties would just fade out
Shut them down"
It was truly tortures. He was in LA, all alone. At least it felt like that. Snooping around the bars, in the middle of the night. Bars that were literally at every corner of the dark street he was walking on. Vic, Thomas and Ethan were off somewhere else. At some "dumb" party Damiano didn't bother to attend. It was a waste of time anyway. Not that he had a better way to waste it, anyhow.
It sickened him. Truly. Couples were holding hands everywhere. Whispering quietly to each other's ears and laughing at something that seemed like it was the funniest thing in the whole universe. Maybe it was. But he couldn't be bothered at the moment. Some guy and his girlfriend were making out in the middle of the dance floor in the middle of some random bar he walked in. He felt disgusted. Or at least he thought he was.
He walked up to the bartender, ordered a beer and walked off to the corner of the bar. He pushed through the dancing, yelling and laughing crowd so he could finally sit down at the empty table. Damiano sat down with a sigh. He was drowning his beer in silence. The party around him was wild, full of life and youth. He knew that he shouldn't be slouching like someone had died. But he knew that he couldn't help himself. He felt alone. On the band tour, on the parties, even in this bar as he looked at all the people dancing, being drunk and probably high, he felt alone.
Damiano pulled out his phone as he searched for your contact. It was an early morning in the country where you were. He thought that you must still be asleep. Perhaps he should be doing the same. But he didn't. Instead of sleeping in now empty hotel room, he wondered into some lousy LA party drinking his sorrows away. Even though he really doesn't even enjoy alcohol. But he didn't care about that at the moment. He just wanted to be back home. Back in Italy. Back with you at least if he couldn't be home. But you were his home. And he missed you. He wondered if you liked the flowers he send you. He wondered if you even got them yet. Suddenly, Damiano got up. Not caring about the party or the beer, not that he did before. He didn't even bother to acknowledge the couple that he bumped into on his way out of the bar. He couldn't be bothered that the guy was angrily yelling at him to watch up. No. All he cared about was calling you. And so he did.
"If not for you, I wouldn't sing anymore
(Da-ba-ra-ba-ra, ta-ta, da-ba-ra-ba-ra)
If not for you, I couldn't get off this floor
(Da-ba-ra-ba-ra, ta-pa)
If not for you, hell would be knockin' on my door
If not for you"
There were the moments when he felt like all of that fame was too much. Moments when he wondered if he should be doing this. Moments when he wondered was he even good enough for this. Moments when he wondered did he deserve all of the thing and people he has now. There were moments when he felt like breaking down. It was just before the tour. He was in the (Y/N)'s and his apartment alone. Or at least he thought that he was alone. Damiano was sitting on their bed. He hid his face in his head, gripping his hair. He felt a strong burning sensation in his eyes. He didn't let go. He thought that he shouldn't, that it's not worth it. He missed the sound of the door of the apartment opening, he missed his name being called out softly over and over again. Like a broken record player.
"Damiano." he lifted his head then. There she was. Holding the keys of the car in left hand and an empty luggage in her right hand. It belonged to him. He was supposed to be packing the last suitcase, but he wasn't. He left it in the middle of the hallway. He knew (Y/N) must have stumbled upon it and she brought it here. He couldn't keep his tears in anymore when he saw her slowly walking up to him. He smashed into her, pulling her against him tightly. He slipped his hand under his her shirt as he felt the warmth of her skin and smelled the sweetness of her perfume. It was almost like, if he had loosened his grip even a little bit, she would disappear. He knew he will have enough time to miss her for 2 months. He needed this comfort. He needed her in his arms for a little while longer because he knew that neither of them could know when they will see each other.
"Are you okay, amante [lover]." you asked him softly as both of you slowly lowered onto the cold floor. You felt him falling down so you went with him. You felt like that too, anyways. You were running your hands through his hair as you reasted your head on top of his. It was almost if he was squishing the life out of you, but you didn't care. He learned his head against your chest, focusing on your heartbeat.
"You know, if it wasn't for you I wouldn't sing anymore." he said and for a moment he left you speechless. You were about to say something when he interrupted you. You let him. "You are the reason I am here today. You are the reason I didn't give up. You are my motive, my inspiration for everything I do. Sei la mia musa [You are my muse]. Sei la mia ispirazione [You are my inspiration]."
As Damiano continued to clutch you to him, he felt something wet streaming down his hairline. He knew very well what it was. He was doing it, too.
"No more Nirvana
No Billy Jean
No dancin' if you were gone
How could I wake up
How could I sleep
How could I be someone
All those crowds
All the music would just fade out
Not a sound"
Damiano was gripping that microphone for his dear life, it seems like. He felt his throat being sore, but adrenaline was at its highest peek so it was all right. He could see in the corner of his eyes Vic and Thomas playing along with his singing. Ethan was also jamming away with his drums. The crowd in front of him was screaming, dancing, laughing, they were having fun. The band did to. You could fill the high spirit. But you could also feel that something was missing. Or rather someone. Damiano felt it deep in his being. Everyone was here. But there wasn't one person that should be. You. His eyes scanned the crowd. His wild, dark eyes searching in hope of finding your (Y/E/C) ones. He hoped, even though he felt like he shouldn't, that you would somehow be here. Even though you were thousands of miles away, he hoped that you would be there. He hoped that some miracle happened and that his lover would have her schedule cleared so she could come. Damiano hoped, even if you don't come to him, that you ate, drank. That you are taking care of yourself. He hoped with his whole being that you are alright and that he will see you again very soon. Otherwise, he might just come and get you himself.
Just as Damiano finished singing the last chords of their song his eyes unexpectedly found ones he missed so much. At that moment he felt like he was whole again. That the missing part of his sould was glued back to him again. And it was.
There you stood. Practically in front of Vic who was playing in front of the left side of the stage. You were standing next to Leo, looking at him. He felt like he was all alone there with you. Damiano felt like he was dreaming. But he wasn't. You were there. Just like he asked you when he called you three days ago. You were there, looking and smiling at him. Singing along with him. He knew that he was home at last.
->
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TAGLIST
@opal-rugger
JOIN THE TAGLIST HERE!!
“I’m having his baby! No I’m not, but you should see your faces!”
Marvel Masterlist
✭ - smut
♡ - fluff
➳ - angst
۵ - hurt/comfort
°
Bucky Barnes
"Who the hell is Bucky?"
Young Romanoff - Natasha's sister has to train with none other than the Hydra's most precious soldier as a part of the Black Widow Program. [➳]
Johanna Mason obsession is striking back!😫🪓
𝐁𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐉𝐨𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧'𝐬 𝐬/𝐨 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞
⤷ gender neutral, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!
Warnings: swearing, major mentions of death and violence, spoilers, death of children, mental illness, mentions of previous torture.
a/n: with the hunger games resurgance, I want to continue writing for these characters. I absolutely loved this series so much, it was an innate part of my teenage years.
ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ
Keep reading
Send requests for the Squid Game characters, ESPECIALLY Gi-hun!! Pls.
Red | The Salesman
Pairing: The Salesman x fem!reader
Summary: After a tiring day, you're just trying to go home, but while you're waiting on your train, a handsome man in a suit stumbles on you.
Warning/s: betting, money in exchange for a game, slapping (on the face, you nasty), salesman trying to recruit you for the games, smoking cigarettes, people on the station being kind of weirded out, maybe some cursing (idk), reader is in debt, possible grammar and spelling mistakes
Author's note: So this is like the prequel to my story Russian Roulette, but it really doesn't matter whether you read that fic or this one first. You do you. I really love the request, btw. Hope you enjoy!
Request: hii can u make more stories in this story line between the reader n him? like i rlly wanna know what they were like tgthr before this situation since we r told they had smth tgthr at some point tyyyy
Part 2 here!!
The bench where I was sitting was quite cold, which, of course, wasn't surprising considering how cold it was tonight. My hand slightly shook as I wrapped my fingers around the lit up cigarette that I was smoking for who knows how long. My flimsy jacket that was wrapped around me did not bring exact comfort to me that I had hoped it would.
Shivering there, I sat as the announcer's voice rang around the train station, signaling that the train that I was waiting for to go home would be slightly delayed, forcing me to wait there for entire hour more than I should be waiting. It was already late and I was so done with today's day.
Trying to earn money was hard, especially when you're in a lot of debt. Being chased by the people who you owe money to, threatening to cut out your eyes, possibly even kill you in the end, wasn't fun either. You had to learn to sleep with one eye open. Constantly on edge, just like I was right now.
The job that I worked did not provide as much money as I needed it to. There was simply no way for me to earn enough money for food every day, to pay rent which I was already three months behind. My landlord was truly a fucking angel for letting me live in that house as long as I did, but I knew that that wouldn't last forever either. There was no way that I could afford to pay everything that was essential, let alone pay off my debts.
In frustration, letting out a deep, disappointed sigh, my hand slid into the pocket of my jacket, reaching for yet another cigarette and a lighter.
"Hello, miss."
I practically jumped from my seat, startled by a sudden voice next to me. I whipped my head around, finding the face that this voice belonged to.
Right next to me, smiling, was a very handsome man that looked like some kind of salesman. He was wearing a very expensive suit. His hair was as black as the night sky. His piercing eyes just as black. There was little to no facial hair, but that really suited him. He was very handsome and I quickly found myself surprised when I realized that he was actually talking to me.
"Can I talk to you?" He asked once he noticed how startled I was.
"I'm not a prostitute, sir." I said, sliding away on the bench further away from him.
"Don't worry, miss, it's not that." He chuckled gently, his eyes never leaving mine. "I just want to let you in on a great opportunity to win some money."
There was just silence for a while. I sad nothing all the while he kept looking at me.
"Um..." I looked at him and, for a while, just couldn't bring myself to speak up. "No, thank you."
"'No'?" He asked.
It seemed like I caught him by surprise, but after a little while I noticed something else in his eyes that I just couldn't seem to figure out. Some kind of amazement? Respect even? But there was definitely something that I couldn't label quite yet.
"There is definitely a catch." I smiled slightly. I would love to get some money, of course, but I know that it won't be that easy.
"Miss." The salesman smiled once again, his eyes surprisingly gently just like his voice as he spoke. "Would you like to play a game with me?
"Wha-What kind of g-game?" I found myself stuttering a bit. "Look, if this is some sort of sick perverted thing you're doing 'cause I swear if you try something, I am going to scream." I threatened, a newfound confidence overwhelming me.
He chuckled once more, "No, nothing like that, Miss."
All of a sudden, he quickly turned his face away from me as he reached to open his suitcase. I could swear that for a split second I saw him blush, but then I realized that I probably imagined it because there's no way. I mean, sure, he is very handsome, but the two of us are a whole world apart, too different from each other.
"I'm sure you've played ddakji before, right?" He spoke and I looked at the open suitcase that was resting between us.
There were a few piles of money on one side and two different colors of ddakji on the other side. Red and blue. I looked at him with surprise.
"You-You want me to play ddakji with you?" I asked, raising my eyebrow in question.
He nodded with a smile.
"For money?"
He nodded again, "Play a few rounds of ddakji with me and each time you win, I'll pay you a 100,000 won."
Damn.
I mean, sure, why not. I loved that game when I was a kid, and I didn't have a chance to play the game in what seemed like forever. Plus, if I win, I get money. It all seemed amazing, but then I realized what the problem with all of this could be.
"And what if I lose and you win." I asked, he continued to smile as he answered.
"Then you pay me 100,000 won."
"Sir, this is amazing and all, don't get me wrong." I gently said, "But I'm afraid that I don't have the money to pay you back."
"That is all right, miss." His smile unwavering. "We'll figure something else regarding that if it comes to it."
For a moment, I just sat there in silence, pondering the offer. But after a while I finally decided.
"Ah, sure," I sighed before matching his smile and meet his eyes, "Why not?"
"What color would you like to play as?" He asked me, taking both red and blue ddakji as I stood up. He followed me almost immediately.
"Red, please." I said and he smiled as he handed me the red ddakji.
As I reached for the red one that he was handing me out, our hands touched. For a moment we both froze, but then I quickly took the ddakji and moved away.
It was so strange. The feeling I got when I touched his hand. It was as if some sort of electricity went straight through me, forcing me to quickly move away due to the shock of it all.
He cleared his throat before extending his right hand, pointing to the floor, "You gotta first, Miss."
I nodded, and with that, he placed the blue ddakji on the ground, and I stood over it. I took a stronger hold of the red ddakji and stood up more straight as I glared at the blue ddakji. Goodness, I haven't done this in years, I thought to myself, letting out a shaky breath.
I took a deep breath.
I could feel his eyes on me.
I swang my arm behind my head before powerfully striking his blue ddakji. Apparently, I must have done something wrong because his blue ddakji moved but did not flip over. I let out a sigh, looking kind of defeated.
He stepped forward, grabbed his blue ddakji, and stood back up. I moved away, giving him more space, his eyes folowing my every move. Almost immediately, he swang his arm behind his head, slaming his blue ddakji on my red one, flipping it over with ease. I sighed as he turned to look at me, teasing smile making it's way on his face.
"So..." I spoke up, kind of unsure and slightly intimidated, "So what now? I lost."
"Don't worry about money." He spoke up, kind of surprising me with that one, "We'll discuss it at the end if that is okay with you, Miss?"
"Sure." I answered him, meeting his eyes.
His smile widened a little bit more as we, for a few moments, just stood there taking each other in. All of a sudden, he cleared his throat, snapping himself out of it.
"One more round?" He asked as he fixed his tie, I nodded, not saying a word.
Turns out, one round meant about five more. I lost every single round. It truly began to seem like luck wasn't on my side that day.
We got to the last round, the sixth one. I was getting annoyed, constantly losing. I took a deep breath. His blue ddakji stared at me, my red one locked in my hand. I flipped my ddakji over and decided that that was it. I swang my hand behind my head and delivered the most powerful swing yet. I stared at his blue ddakji and my red one as both of them flipped in the air before his blue ddakji landed on the cold floor. It flipped over... I won...
I couldn't help the laugh that escaped my lips as he gave me a little applause, smiling as I jokingly bowed.
"Wow," I chuckled, "I finally won the round."
"Well done, Miss." He chuckled lowly, but somehow so softly as he reopened his suitcase handing me 100,000 won. "As promised."
"Thank you," I said, taking the money, "but I lost like five times. Tell me, what can I possibly give you to make this even."
"How about you give me the pleasure of taking you out for dinner, Miss?" He spoke up almost shyly in a way that was so endearing, and even though it seemed like that look wouldn't fit him, it somehow did. "Only if you want to, of course."
"I..." I spoke up stuttering and blushing a bit, surprised by his offer, "I would love to."
After that interesting interaction, we went out to get dinner. I had a great time with him, and even though I hated to admit it, I started to like him. We talked on and on about random things. We were truly having fun and that made my day so much better.
Before separating, he gifted me a blood red rose, and he gave me a card that looked really strange. At the front of the brownish card was a circle, a triangle, and a square. I flipped the card over and saw what looked like a telephone number.
"Miss, there are other games like the one that we played where you can make even more money than you did. So much more." He started to explain, but his expression became different. His smile was gone and there was a sort of gloomy gaze in his eyes. That seemed to surprise him. "Think about it."
He stepped closer to me, looked me deep in the eyes before he started to slowly lean in. I found myself doing the same. Our lips met. We were just standing there, outside of the restaurant, rose in my hand, his hands on my face deepening the kiss.
As we parted ways, he told me that he hoped to see me again if I made it. Whatever that meant.
I took another look at the card that he gave me, staring at the number, not knowing that I will meet my childhood friend Gi-hun, not knowing what the games will do to both of us and to all the other people, not knowing the amount of money I was gonna win, not knowing that I will spend the next three years of my life chasing the man of my life, trying to haunt him down, not knowing how dangerous the last game that we'll play will be.
TAGLIST:
@shadow-tumbler
TOM BLYTH as CORIOLANUS SNOW in THE BALLAD OF SONGBIRDS AND SNAKES
I MISS YOUUUU ❤️
Awwww!!! I really miss writing, too. The school is just killing me right now, ut I'm really trying to find some spare time to write. I'm really excited for you guys to read what I wrote. Love you!❤
Yet another Taylor Swift inspired Coriolanus Snow x fem!reader fic coming over the week.
JOIN THE TAGLIST HERE!!
THANK YOU SO MUCHH!! ✨️♡
Hi, I didn’t see a what not to request thing so ignore this if your not comfortable writing death - but can I request Coriolanus Snow x reader who is a tribute in the games but dies and there’s nothing he can do about it. Just pure angst.
Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x fem!reader
Summary: She was just supposed to be a pawn in his games, a way to get the Plinth Prize. He wasn't supposed to care. She was just a tribute, after all.
Warning/s: angst, death, kind-of-psycho Snow, Snow in love, crying, probably some spelling and/or grammar mistakes
Author's note: So Snow's actions and behavior may be a little out of his character here, but that is because I made him helplessly in love with reader. I hope this is okay. Enjoy!
The red chair where he sat now seemed to uncomfortable to sit in.
Coriolanus' already strong grip on the armrests of the chair somehow just seemed to tighten, he felt certain that he will probably brake the wood out of which the chair is made of. He felt cold sweat dripping down his forehead as he felt the uncomfortable feeling of shivers going down his spine.
His breathing became raspy, his academy's red uniform somehow became tighter around his neck. He felt like he was grasping the last strings of air in the room crowded with the other mentors, he felt like he was breathing just for the hell of it.
His chest started to squeeze so much it started to hurt him.
He couldn't get the air to tear through to his lungs, and for the first time in a long time Coriolanus' vision became blurry with tears.
He knew that she would be dead either way. She was from District 12 for God's sake! She was the weakest target. Her lack of throat-slicing, bloodthirsty, violent nature was going to be her downfall the moment she stepped into that arena.
She was quite small, weak even, but not like that was surprising to him. She came from the loser District. She was somehow a person who wouldn't hurt a fly, let alone kill someone. Even if it was a stranger.
He knew all of this, therefore he didn't have any reason to be surprised.
Yet it felt like he was going to choke on the uncomfortable, unbearable even, feeling of something in his throat as he felt cameras moving onto his face to capture the moment where a tribute lost a mentor. Or rather mentor losing their tribute. But this wasn't like the times before, with the other mentors, with his classmates, that left the room before him.
He knew that this is different. He felt it.
Coriolanus Snow was aware that he was supposed to have the control of his emotions like many times before.
Right now, what he was supposed to do is what was expected of him to do. Look into the camera and wave it off. Play it off as if he was just happy to be here. To play a modest, charming, bright and above all young Capitol citizen and to lean over toward Lucky Flickerman's microphone, that was already showed into his face, and to answer the questions with a charming smile pressed onto his face.
Yet he couldn't even look away from the screen on the wa in the middle of the room, let alone answer Lucky Flickerman's questions like many before him.
He watched her dead body on the floor in the middle of the arena with a shaky breath that left his lips without his permission.
Lucky Flickerman's questions rang next to his ear.
It seems like he was repeatedly asking him something yet Coriolanus somehow never heard him. Every noise in the room came into his ears as a form of beeping.
His vision blurry even tho he tried to stop it.
The only noise that seemed to constantly increase its volume is his ragged breathing.
Coriolanus watched as another tribute grabbed her body by the ankles as he started to drag her over to the pile of bodies that belonged to other deceased tributes.
Coriolanus watched her laid out hand dragging itself after her, her hair everywhere as one single tear slid down her eyes that were still open.
Haunting him.
Why didn't he do more? What didn't he save her? Why didn't she win? She should have won...
She should have won.
Coriolanus Snow didn't know how it happened and why was it happening.
He suddenly stood up, his hand gripping something in the pocket of his uniform, and without even spearing one glance towards Lucky Flickerman, Clemensia who tried to grab his shoulder before he did something stupid.
He didn't spare a glance at anyone for that matter as his legs carried him away from his chair, away from the room, away from the look of her dead body.
He walked out of the room as fast as he could, trying not to look at any cameras.
He pulled the handkerchief that she used before she was violently thrown into the games to fight for her own life.
It was still wet from her tears.
He felt his own tear dropping onto the handkerchief, mixing with her tears. The tears of his now forever lost tribute.
Coriolanus Snow promised something to himself that day.
When he gets married one day, he will do it out of profit, out of perhaps mutual interest, not out of love.
Never out of love.
Love he had for his tribute brought him here. It brought him this tight feeling in his chest that, no matter what happens or what he does, he can't get rid of.
As he wiped one lost tear with her (his) handkerchief, he promised himself to never loose control ever again.
Yet he knew one thing. Those eyes, hair and smile would haunt him forever, as long as he was alive, but he will gladly remember it. The last thing, along with the handkerchief, he had left of her. His love, his tribute, that died in the arena.
would you ever write for kris <3
Hi! I can't believe that I finally found time to answer anon requests. I'm so sorry that I couldn't do it earlier, but I was so busy I practically didn't have any free time. But I'm happy to say that I will try to get around every request.
To answer your question, dear anon, I don't see why not! Sure, I would love to. If you still have an idea, feel free to send a request. Have a great day/night!🤗❤️
She/Her | Bisexual | Dead inside | Ravenclaw | Swiftie, writer and Marvel fan | Watch me try to write sh*t that I think is good even tho it's really not
267 posts