#palermo x reader

[darthgloris]

If things had gone differently

Pairing: bi!Palermo x fem!bi!reader

A/N: this was quite a request, @tzkyo, thank you! This is a really interesting plot that is very likely to make me cry while writing it but I love it! You're very creative, hope you get more ideas like this for me to write ❤❤

Summary (@tzkyo 's courtesy, everyone 😉): Y/N (aka Recife) is completely and utterly in love with Palermo, even if all this time he loved Berlín. After his love interest died, he was torn apart from grief, while Y/N did her best to comfort him in hopes of one day winning his heart. During the heist, he breaks her heart in the most cruel and painful way possible, but regrets it when things start getting ugly.

Warnings: SPOILERS, violence, death, angsty af, heartbreak

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I hated them.

I hated them both.

Actually, that's not true. I loved them both.

But I hated the way they looked at each other.

I hated the way they acted together.

I knew I shouldn't. I knew it was wrong to act like this, but I didn't care. I'd been going through this shit every single day for 10 years. Watching the love of my life Palermo being so kind, so sweet, so fun, being himself with Berlín, and then turning to me with a cold shoulder. Of course, he'd be sweet and kind to me as well, but when he was with the love of his life he was a whole different person. And it bothered me so much that that version of Palermo was the real him. Berlín brought out the best in him, certainly. He brought out the fun, sunny, Golden Retriever-like side of him. But he started neglecting me for it.

Damn him. Damn him and his perfect plans and his perfect brains and his perfect fucking smile. How could I be so in love with him? He was impossible, he was selfish, he had countless of flaws, but when you truly love someone, that doesn't matter. And his happiness mattered to me as well, so I let him be with Berlín and tried not to get in the middle.

And then, in the heist at the Royal Mint, he died. That was really impossible to see. The only difference between what hurt him before was that this time it impacted me as well. Berlín was the one who stole Palermo's heart, and he was quicker than me in doing so, but he was still a really good friend to me, almost a brother. He was used to giving me lots of attention, and that made Palermo's blood boil. That was probably why he was so cold to me.

A few months after Berlín passed, I was called by my ex-partner-in-crime Nairobi to join her and Helsinki in their life of partying and joy. I had missed her very, very much and couldn't wait to clear my mind from the hopeless, dead-end chase after Palermo in the lovely landscapes of Argentina.

A little less than a year later, love played its dirty game once again. Rio got captured and was taken to Algeria for interrogation and torture. That was what brought us all back together. But if there was something I wasn't ready for was meeting Palermo again.

Our reunion was certainly heartfelt and tearful. After all this time of grieving on his own, he felt incredibly alone and couldn't deny that he missed me, even if my advances sometimes bothered him.

...

During the heist

Palermo was acting weird. Very weird. He wasn't looking at me at all, he didn't even bother to look me in the eyes. To others, he talked normally, but to me, he just gave orders as if I meant to him as much as the next person. I've done everything for him: I spent my time helping him when he was blinded when I could have been doing much more useful stuff, I supported him when no one did, I covered him during battle. Hell, I've known him for years, why would he be acting like this?

And then it occurred to me. Why don't I ask him myself?

On the way to look for him, I bumped into Nairobi, who grabbed my arm gently and pulled me away to somewhere more private.

"Recife, where were you going?" She asked carefully.

"I'm just looking for Palermo, why?"

I sighed in exasperation. "Cariño, when are you going to realise you're too good for him? Have you seen how he treats you? You don't deserve that shit. You deserve someone who treats you like the wonderful person that you are. I know you love him, and I know you have for a very long time, but how did you endure all those years of watching him with Berlín and then having him push you away? He's not good enough for you. If he doesn't respond to your advances, it's not your problem, it's his, because he can't see the person in front of him for how she really is."

"Look, I know he can be a really shitty person, but he wasn’t always like this, okay? Before Berlín came around he was sweet, fun, caring. He used to show me so much affection, so much care, and when the guy showed up, he started following him like a puppy."

"He might have been like that before, Recife, but he's not anymore. People change, and sometimes for the worst. Even the inspector in charge now would be able to treat you better than this. And she's been torturing Rio for weeks."

"I'll never know what's going on with him if I don't ask him, will I?"

Nairobi sighed and placed a hand over her cheek, thinking. "You're so stubborn. Now go on, lover girl, before you miss your chance."

I gave her a strong hug and hurried off to find him. After a bit of wandering in the Bank of Spain, I found him in the library with a bunch of hostages and a couple of crew members. This was going to be difficult.

"Palermo!" I called him, and he stopped for a moment, but chose to ignore me and kept walking.

"Hey, Palermo." I grabbed his arm and forced him to look me in the eyes. "Um, could we talk? Alone, please?"

"No. Whatever you have to say, you can say here." He replied coldly, making my jaw clench.

"Fine." I rolled my eyes. "Could you please tell me why you've been treating me like trash since we got here? You're acting really weird, and you're not the Palermo I know, because that guy was loving, and cared about me, even if I was just a friend to him. But now... now you're just a jerk who thinks that he can push me around because I have feelings for him. I miss you, Palermo. The real you."

When I noticed how his fists were closed and his face was red, I got scared. Knowing him, he was going to lash out. "Don't give me that shit, Recife. Do you have any idea how much I suffered when Andrès died!? Does your teeny little brain even begin to comprehend what I went through when you left me alone to follow your little friends to Argentina!? You can't blame me, you can only blame yourself!"

In the middle of all that yelling, Nairobi came in I she almost heard her heart cracking at the scene. I teared up at the harsh words he was throwing at me without any regret, and my friend tried to walk up to me.

"Palermo, shut up! Can't you see she's crying?! Leave her alone!" She defended me.

"Why should I care if she's crying?!" He turned his attention back to me. "Are you still here, Recife? Go on, get out! Leave! Stay the hell away from me!"

I tried not to break down in front of everyone and ran out of the room. I could hear their voices arguing from inside.

"Why did you have to do that, you selfish piece of shit? All she has ever done is care for you and give you the love that not even Berlín gave you and you just break her like that?! Are you crazy?! Do you really think you're in the position to break someone's heart? You? I saw what she went through..."

I zoned the voices out and broke down on the floor, my cries echoing through the corridors. I couldn’t believe he did that to me. Maybe it was better like this. It may be better for both of us.

What he had said really hit a spot. Sometimes I regretted leaving him, but I thought it was for the best. The Palermo I remembered would have never rubbed that in my face. He wouldn't have said any of those things, he would've rejected me gently. And still treat me like a friend.

I leaned my head on the wall and hugged my knees to her chest, sobbing uncontrollably. I heard the door open and someone sat down next to me. Her hand started rubbing circles on my back.

"I gave him a piece of my mind. I couldn’t let him hurt you like this." She said and I leaned my head on her shoulder. "I'm so sorry, cariño. Really."

"You know what the worst part is? If he hadn't changed, if he hadn't started pushing me away for someone else, that version of him would have never done this. I loved Berlín, but he turned him into this... this person I've never seen before..."

Nairobi sighed and clutched me to her chest. "You don't deserve that. Now, why don't you spend the rest of the heist with me, hmm? Get away from all of this for a while. You'll stay at the furnace with me, Bogotá and Denver and we'll take care of you, okay? You know that those guys never fail to put a smile on our faces."

I chuckled. "Okay. Let's go."

...

When they got downstairs, Denver rushed over to me while Nairobi went to talk to the others. "Hey, Recife, what happened? Who did this to you? You give me a name and I'll rip their face off-"

"No, no, no, please don't rip any faces off! It was Palermo. He ripped my heart out, threw it on the ground and walked all over it."

"I have to go, someone is in the need of a beating." He said jokingly. "Hey, listen to me. He's not worth it. If he can't see what a wonderful human being he could have been with, he's not good enough. And it's not all bad. You did a really brave thing, telling him everything you felt to his face. That's a courage he lacks completely, because he doesn't have any balls or dignity. Would you have been with a guy that didn't have dignity or a functioning pair of testicles? Of course not!" I laughed and smiled at him. "There we go, that's much better!" Denver picked me up in his arms and swung me up and down. "Recife! Recife! Recife!" He chanted and I laughed, hugging him.

He put me down and Bogotá approached her. "He's right, kid. Don't let anyone walk all over you. You're too good for that." He pinched my cheek affectionately and I smiled, hugging him as well.

I was going to be better off like this after all.

...

Meanwhile, more days passed and seeing Palermo hurt a little bit every time, but being with people who really cared about me and loved me for who I am made me feel much, much better. I managed to get much closer with the boys, that being Matías, Bogotá and Denver. It was great, they were fun, they were interesting, and they were good people. And Nairobi encouraging me made me feel so happy inside, to finally have someone who truly cared for me.

But I was about to get the harshest reality check I could have ever gotten.

Alicia Sierra had managed to get in contact with Nairobi and manipulate her through her son. First she left her the boy's teddy bear, which contained a phone. I got worried when Nairobi accepted a call from the Inspectora. She started telling her that Axel was with her, and when Nairobi didn't believe her, she put him on the phone. Then she took him outside, encouraging her to look out the window. I felt something was off, until I realised what Sierra was doing.

"It's a trap! Nairobi, get away from there!" I yelled and without wasting a beat, I pushed her out of the way.

The sniper bullet cut through the air as if it was a hot knife cutting butter. Then I felt a pain in my chest and gasped in shock, but almost choked on the blood I was spitting. My hearing faded out and my eyesight blurred, but I could make out Nairobi's voice desperately calling my name and asking for help. I saw a few blurry figures, of which I only recognised Estocolmo and Nairobi, but I also tuned out a voice of which I couldn't forget the presence: Palermo. I could distinctly hear his anguished yells and cries as he tried to pick me up and bring me somewhere else. I wished I could hear what he was saying to me, but I lost consciousness shortly after.

...

*Palermo's POV*

She's shot.

She's shot. She's shot. She's shot.

I couldn’t calm my nerves as I paced back and forth, holding back my tears. Recife just got shot. I couldn’t believe what happened. Her life was on the line, likely because of me. I don't know why I broke her heart like that, I should have done anything else but that! And now she was lying on that cart, a step away from death.

"Somebody do something, carajo!" I cursed. "Anything you can! An anesthesia, a bandage, anything, just don't let her die!"

I heard Nairobi mutter something, but I didn’t have the energy to care. My best friend was dying, the very best friend that never stopped loving me even when I treated her like trash. She was brave and smart and intelligent and never failed to put a smile on my face. I wish things had gone differently, maybe if they had she wouldn’t be here like this.

"Okay, she's stable." Tokio said, making me breathe a sigh of relief. "She's in a coma and we don't know how long it will be until she wakes up, so she's going to need constant monitoring and observation, if we leave her alone like this and something happens, we're screwed."

"I'll stay with her," I volunteered immediately. "The rest of you go down to the furnace, we're almost there."

"Finally getting some common sense into that thick skull of yours, eh, Palermo?" Nairobi asked, her voice lacking humour completely.

"Why don't you mind your business, Nairobi? You still have a job to finish," I countered. I needed to be alone with Y/N now.

She just rolled her eyes. "Fine. Now come on, we need to move her somewhere safer."

...

We took her upstairs carefully and the others left to go back to their jobs. Finally, a moment alone with her. I sat down next to her and grabbed her hand gently, interlocking my fingers with hers.

"I don't know if you can hear me, corazón," I started. "But I need you to know how sorry I am for treating you like that. I didn’t mean to hurt you, I was really overrun by grief and you remind me so much of him... but I don't want to talk about him. I'm so sorry you're going through this... I should have protected you, goddamn it! You've always stuck with me, you've been so patient, so kind, so sweet, waiting for me to treat you the way I did before. And guess what? To get me to remember you, you had to get shot. God, I'm so stupid! You're right, I have changed, but you had to pay the consequences while it should have been me..." a few tears started rolling down my cheeks. "Please give me a chance to fix this once you get better. I couldn’t live with myself knowing I lost such an important person in my life."

I rested my forehead on my other hand and cried shamelessly. "My God, I don’t know what to do with myself if I lose you. I already lost someone important, I already lost someone I loved. Please don't be next. Hold on, honey. You hold on and when we get out here I'm going to buy us an island off of the coasts of Japan, your favorite place, and then I'm going to marry you. We'll live on the island all alone, just us, where nobody can bother us. We'll have sushi every weekend and mochi whenever you want, the ice cream ones, just like you like them. And after a few years, I'll fill that pretty stomach of yours with lovely children, and we'll live the best life we could ever get."

I did the best I could to paint her that picture, hoping she could hear me. I want to do all of these things and more. I want to kiss her forever, then go to Japan and marry her and live the rest of our lives together. I want to give her children, who'll hopefully get her personality and both our brains.

But what if she didn't make it?

I wanted all those things. I love her. I love her more than she thinks. She's going to make it. She has to. Otherwise, I might not be able to move on from her.

...

A few days passed and I spent every single day with her to apologise for everything I had done to her, to tell her about everything I loved about her and our future plans. I refused to leave her side, not while she was in this condition. My eyes hurt from crying and my back hurt from sitting in the chair; I hadn't eaten since she got shot, I only had water, and it wasn't my intention to leave anytime soon. Not even to eat. Not even to sleep.

...

I was sitting next to Y/N, my hand in hers, hoping for any sign of movement. Nothing. All of a sudden, her hand twitched and I almost jumped up from my seat. She was awake! She was here!

I couldn't hold back tears as she opened her eyes and shifted her head to the side to look at me. She eyed me up and down, her eyebrows furrowed. "You look terrible," she said honestly, making me laugh. Her life was on the line and she didn't even leave her sarcastic personality behind. God, this woman was amazing.

"I know," I laughed, stroking her face. "I've been sitting here for days hoping you'd wake up. Listen, I'm really sorry for treating you like that. And I don’t just mean last week. Everything I did to you. You were right, I've changed, and not entirely for the better. I pushed you away without being aware the value of your feelings for me, and when you got shot I finally realised what I should have a long time ago. What I'm trying to say is that I really love you. Please, please give me a chance to fix things. I owe it to you."

She smiled as she teared up as well, which made me hiccup in tears, only this time they were of joy.

"Yes. You can have one more chance." She said.

I gasped softly and tried not to shower her with physical affection as I knew she was hurt.

"What are you still waiting for, Martín? Kiss me, you fool," she joked.

"Are you sure? Because once I start, I might not be able to stop." I replied sincerely.

She gave a small nod and I leaned my face closer to hers. Then she moved her face upwards and met my lips in a soft kiss. I felt my stomach drop to my feet at the feeling of her soft lips on mine, her hand trying to run her fingers through my hair. I smiled in the kiss and felt more tears falling down my face, but I didn’t care. Finally, she was with me. And I wasn't willing to let her go.

...

I woke up to a lot of bustling in the room: the crew was running around and swarming over Recife's body, and their frantic muttering was mixed with the unstable beeping of her monitor.

Shit, the monitor!

"What's going on? Why isn't anyone doing anything?! She's dying, hurry!"

"Palermo, honey..." Nairobi started. "...we can't save her."

I noticed the tears pooling inside her eyes and I almost forgot how to breathe. She was serious.

"No! There has to be something we can do to help! Just anything- no, don't touch that!" I yelled at Denver who was about to detach her from the drugs. "Don't you dare give up! She'll live, I know she will. She's a survivor!"

"I know she is, Palermo, but we're just putting her through useless pain. She's gone, she was since the Inspectora refused to let in the surgical team. She's the only one with proper medical training, if anyone could have done anything, it would have been Recife herself."

"Screw it! Screw all of it! Come on, Nairobi, help me out, please! Please, Nairobi! I can't lose her!"

I saw the hurt and pity in her eyes as she opened her mouth to speak. "I'm sorry, but we-"

Our argument was cut off by the sound of the monitor flatlining.

"¡No! ¡Carajo!" I yelled and punched the wall in a futile attempt to let out my anger. "No! No! Don't leave, please! Please, Y/N!"

The others hugged each other in mourning, but I let nobody touch me. I was too late. She was dead. She was gone forever. No more wedding in Japan. No more sushi and mochi at the weekend. No more children.

I sobbed loudly and clutched her dead body to my chest. I still couldn't believe she was gone. I still couldn't believe that I let love slip through my fingers again.

...

Before her funeral, I stopped by to see her once more.

She was still there, her wound clean and her face relaxed. My heart swelled at the sight and my eyes filled with tears again. I sat down on the cart and pulled her to me, her upper body laying on my lap.

"I'm sorry for this, mi amor. I should have protected you. I love you so much, remember that."

My tears dropped on her face and it looked like she was crying as well, which made me cry harder. My body racked with sobs and I held her beautiful face in my hands as I started singing her favorite song.

"Con los pobres de la tierra

Quiero yo mi suerte hechar

Con los pobres de la tierra

Quiero yo mi suerte hechar

El arroyo de la sierra

Me complace más que el mar

El arroyo de la sierra

Me complace más que el mar

Guantanamera..."

My voice cracked and I couldn’t help but give a soft kiss on the lips.

"Goodbye, my beautiful."

#ldcp #lcdp palermo #lcdp x reader #palermo x reader #money heist #money heist x reader #palermo

[worldgreatestarchersimp]

Me 🤝 wanting to write for fandoms no one reads or writes anymore

So I'm adding now new fandoms and characters

Money Heist

'cause I'm rewatching my comfort show

Alicia Sierra

Berlin

Denver

El Professor

Lisbon

Nairobi

Palermo

Rio

Tokyo

Station 19

Andrea Herera

Maya Bishop

Victoria Hughes

#money heist #money heist x reader #la casa de papel x reader #la casa de papel #alicia sierra x reader #berlin x reader #tokyo x reader #rio x reader #palermo x reader #nairobi x reader #denver x reader #professor x reader #lisbon x reader #station 19 #station 19 x reader #andrea herrera x reader #jack gibson x reader #maya bishop x reader #victoria hughes x reader

[depressopax]

La casa de papel valentines card

I'm having a bit too much for making these lmao 😭

Part 1

#lcdp #valentines cards #la casa de papel #lcdpedit #lcdp spoilers #lcdp5 #berlin lcdp #money heist #denver lcdp #tokyop lcdp #palermo lcdp #raquel murillo #lisboa lcdp #la casa de papel x reader #el profesor #alvaro morte #pedro alonso #lcdp meme #memes

[lostloveletters]

Give Me Shelter, The Night Is Dark (Vampire!Michael Corleone x Reader)

Summary: Local superstition and a reclusive man offer you refuge when your parents grievously misstep in Sicily, putting your life in danger in more ways than one.

Note: Female reader, but no other descriptors are used. This incredibly self-indulgent gothic romance-esque idea came to me while I was half-asleep, and the time period is intentionally vague, but it’s not a modern setting (here's a little aesthetic tag for this fic). Do not interact if you’re under 18, terf or radfem, or post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 4.6k

Warnings: Major canon divergence. Canon-typical violence. Emotional manipulation. Vampirism, including non-consensual blood drinking and compulsion (in the context of it being an ability vampires possess and can use on humans). Sexually explicit content involving elements of bloodplay. Do not interact if you’re under 18.

You couldn’t remember what had brought your family to the village of Corleone, only that your father had promised you and your mother an extravagant Sicilian vacation. Three days of beachside paradise in Mondello, eating fresh seafood cooked to perfection and entertaining the antics of handsome men with scars that stood out like bolts of lightning against their tanned skin were hardly enough to sate your voracious appetite for the weeks of bliss you were promised. 

Despite your attempts at bargaining to stay in Palermo on your own, your mother refused, insisting she’d be better off throwing you into shark-infested waters than alone with the men who came calling to your hotel. Some days of travel through the breathtaking Sicilian countryside later, you and your parents arrived in Corleone, a village that appeared all but frozen in time, as if decades had passed it by with no one any the wiser. 

To your dismay, you found the selection of eligible men to spend your time with far more limited than in Palermo. The working young men were too tired from their labor in the fields or their trades to engage in foolish antics with a vacationing foreigner. The rest were mafiosi, as you gathered from the veiled comments and numerous euphemisms the older villagers used. 

These elderly became your companions during your stay in Corleone, talking wildly with their weathered hands over coffee or wine. Filomena, a woman of nearly eighty years and fluent in English, lived in the house next to the one your family was renting. Her husband Gianni only left the house if absolutely necessary, and she considered him a burdensome hermit. Each morning, she fetched you to accompany her into town. Some days, you’d do little else than sit outside of a cafe on the sleepy main street, eating and drinking and gossiping. 

Your Sicilian improved immensely in the near month you kept up with their chatter. Those women always had their ears to the ground, as far as knowing more about your father’s business in Corleone than you did. The vacation he promised you was little more than a gesture of confidence toward Don Manusco, a man notoriously difficult to meet directly with. That your father achieved this naturally generated interest in the village, as no one knew of him. When pressed for more information about your own family’s line of work, you answered what you knew, that your father invested, mostly in stocks, but occasionally in new business ventures. 

You were privy to little else, much to the disappointment of your companions, who moved onto other topics of discussion. One woman’s son sought work in Milan and within three months of getting hired at a factory, married a Northerner, much to her displeasure. In contrast, Filomena’s daughter was cloistered elsewhere in the countryside, preparing to take her vows and become a nun. 

Their superstitions, however, intrigued you most of all. A curse and blessing existed for nearly every conceivable situation. The most striking tale they spun regarded an abandoned villa about a mile past the rental house. Foreboding and hostile, its faded facade peeking out from thorny vines, it was once the envy of the village. At one point in time, though no one could agree quite when, the Don of another family lived there. He took in a strange young man, reclusive yet polite, wandering the countryside with two armed shepherds as bodyguards. He married a local girl, but the marriage ended tragically soon after the wedding. In a sudden blaze of fire and betrayal, she was killed. The strange man vanished not long after, and anyone associated with the villa—including the old Don Tomassino—were soon found dead or had disappeared altogether. Thus, no one dared approach it for fear of the curse surely cast upon the place.

Some of the gruesome murders in the vicinity of the villa could have been attributed to the tradition of violence Don Manusco carried on following Don Tomassino’s death. It didn’t explain the livestock dying of unusual causes, an older woman interjected. Even the land surrounding it was cursed, and the local shepherds knew better than to let their flocks graze nearby, explaining the abnormally tall grass and overgrown foliage that surrounded the villa.

Yet another woman claimed to have seen a demon or ghost in the form of a man wandering the villa’s grounds at night. Of course, she didn’t get close enough to take a good look, instead uttering Hail Marys as she ran into the local church to take refuge until her husband found her some time later.

Your mind drifted to the villa sometimes, this forbidden and mysterious monument to grief and superstition that seemed to cast a longer shadow over the village than the mafiosos who ran it. Like Don Manusco, who your parents were joining for dinner one evening, and Filomena insisted you join her and Gianni instead of eating alone.

The scent of stewing summer tomatoes with garlic and mouth-watering spices invited you inside the house, its windows open for hopes of cool breezes moving through. Gianni offered you wine and a simple antipasto spread of cheese and oranges to snack on while Filomena cooked dinner. Despite his reclusiveness, he somehow knew that your father’s dinner with Don Manusco involved more business than a friendly visit, the final chance for your father to seal what he hoped would be a lucrative deal with the mafia boss.

Two hours later, you sat across from Filomena at the small wooden table in their kitchen, filling your plate with the delicious meal she prepared. You ate silence while Filomena spoke, bickering with Gianni every now and then. As the sun set over Corleone, unease crept over you, though you chose to attribute it to the heat of the day and eating too quickly.

Until a commotion erupted up the street, almost deafening as it approached, finally arriving outside of Filomena’s house. Frantic Sicilian shouting mingled with rapid pounding on the front door startled you into dropping your fork. Filomena and Gianni shared a worried glance before both getting up from the table to answer. 

Wailing. 

Screaming. 

Arguing. 

All you found yourself able to do was sit in confused silence. When they returned to the kitchen with a few other locals, panic truly set in.

“You have to leave!” Filomena cried, pulling you out of your seat by your arm.

“What’s going on?” you asked.

“Your father’s a fool–”

Gianni shook his head. “A dead fool–”

“Your father should have never brought you here if he were going to try to cheat Don Manusco!” an older woman said.

Another cursed. “Selfish bastard!” 

“Go! As far from here as you can!” Filomena implored.

A hard push toward the back door was the extent of the help you’d receive from the villagers of Corleone. 

Blood pounded in your ears, your heart beating in time with your feet against the uneven dirt path that nearly tripped you up in your desperate rush to the rental home. You opened the door, scrambling upstairs in a frantic half-crawl to reach your room.

You shoved clothes and essentials into a bag, hardly paying attention to what exactly you were packing, just knowing you couldn’t flee empty-handed and hope to rely on the goodwill of strangers. 

In the kitchen, you grabbed what you could from the pantry and shoved everything into a wicker basket. With just that and your suitcase in hand, you clumsily ran across the uneven countryside roads, hoping to find somewhere to take shelter for the night. Every rustle of leaves and animal cry sent chills across your skin. Just when you felt hopeless for a place to hide, you saw the abandoned villa's high walls, overgrown with vines and bramble in the distance. Superstition be damned, it was better than dying at the hands of a mafioso.

The iron gate was closed, but not locked. You held your breath as you opened it, sending out silent thanks to the universe that it didn’t release some otherworldly screech and announce your presence. Hardly visible in the dead of night, the villa peeked out from beneath the plants that had overtaken it. Even from a distance, it appeared as if the building were hollowed out somehow. It remained your best bet. 

Superstition offered you refuge, as masculine voices drifted above the villa’s high walls, the structure still sturdy despite the general state of disrepair.

“Should we go in?”

“You sound as much of a fool as that old man. That place is cursed. Even if she were in there, she'd be dead anyway.”

Their heavy, rushed footsteps against the rocky terrain fell silent after a few moments. You sighed in relief, allowing yourself to relax just the slightest bit. Until you glanced back at the villa again, a new sense of dread making your stomach turn at the prospect of having to go inside the place. While you didn’t believe all of the rumors you’d been told over the previous few weeks, being in its presence unsettled you.

Then again, feeling unsettled in an abandoned villa was preferable to whatever would happen if Don Manusco’s men got his hands on you.

After a moment of hesitation, you approached the shadowy building, hoping your luck wouldn’t run out when you got inside. 

To your surprise, the interior wasn’t as poorly maintained as the exterior. The furniture betrayed the wealth of whoever lived there previously, though they’d seen better days. Dark wood scuffed or splintered. Dull fabrics that must have been rich violets or crimson upon their initial purchase. 

You walked into the living room, freezing upon seeing lit candles around. Someone was living there after all. 

“Hello? Is anyone–” you gasped upon seeing a man standing on the other side of the living room, partially obscured by shadows.

Even in the cover of darkness, his features rendered you speechless as he approached. Handsome seemed too pedestrian of a word to describe him. His raven hair fell across his forehead with a deceptive boyishness. Brown eyes, almost black as the night itself bore into your own. His skin wasn’t nearly as tan as the villagers you’d met, but you supposed someone who lived in such a place was wealthy enough to not have to partake in the grueling manual labor typical of the area, the strong Sicilian sun giving its residents a healthy glow which he lacked. 

“What are you doing here?” he asked quietly.

“The men who were outside before—I think they’re going to kill me,” you said, panic overtaking your senses as his face remained unmoved by your explanation. “Please, I didn’t know anyone lived here.”

“Why do they want to kill you?”

“I think my father tried to cheat Don Manusco. I don’t know all of the details, but if they don’t want to kill me, then they’ll probably—“ Your voice caught in your throat. 

“You can stay.”

“I’ll leave tomorrow and find a way to get back to Palermo.”

He shook his head. “You have a vendetta out against you now. Getting back to Palermo so soon will be nearly impossible, especially if Manusco has allies there.” He watched in unreadable silence as hopelessness ate away at your resolve. “You can stay,” he finally repeated. “Don’t leave the villa. Not during the day, and especially not at night. You’ll be safe.”

“Thank you. I owe you my life.” You offered him your name, as a courtesy and as collateral. More valuable than anything else you carried with you, he could use it to betray you for his own gain whenever he wished. You prayed it wouldn’t come to that.

“Michael Corleone,” he said.

“Like the village.”

He smiled the slightest bit, his dark eyes shining an almost betraying crimson in the moonlight. Ethereal. That was the right word for him. “Yes, like the village.”

Your host led you upstairs, helping you with your meager belongings despite your insistence you could handle your small suitcase and a basket of food, which you left on the console table in the foyer. The villa had certainly seen better days, its plaster walls cracked, crumbling in some places. You would’ve used caution going up the stairs if Michael hadn’t been so confident as he ascended them. 

He paused at the top of the stairs, glancing at each of the doors along the hallway. After a few moments, he seemed to settle on one, leading you to a dark bedroom, full of odd shadows that made you pause. It seemed otherwise better taken care of than the rest of the villa you’d seen up to that point.  

“It’s just me here. I’m afraid I’m not the best homemaker,” he half-joked in response to your hesitation to enter the room. 

“No, I’m sorry. It’s nice. I can’t thank you enough, Michael.”

He nodded. “I have insomnia, so you’ll see more of me at night than during the day. The cellar stays locked, but you can have the run of the place otherwise.”

You bid each other good night. 

When he shut the bedroom door behind you, you collapsed onto the bed and cried into your pillow, both from heartbreak and exhaustion, until you fell asleep. 

The following morning, you awoke to fresh bug bites on your arm–inflamed and itchy, though perfectly in line with each other, oddly enough. Beggars couldn’t be choosers, and you supposed you’d rather deal with mosquito bites than whatever Don Manusco and his soldiers had in mind for you. 

True to his word, Michael was nowhere to be found when you went downstairs to eat a breakfast of bread and hard salami. Again, not ideal, but you’d make do with what you brought with you. For the rest of the day, you explored the villa, acquainting yourself with your new albeit temporary home.

You found yourself with little to do to pass the time. Venturing out onto the surrounding grounds of the villa was hardly an option, most of it so overgrown you couldn’t take a proper walk. There were a few books in the house, but often you found your mind drifting to your parents, what their fate looked like and what could await you if Don Manusco found out where you were hiding. By the time you’d finally see Michael around in the evenings, you’d force yourself to stay up as long as you could to be in his company. Soon, your schedule nearly matched his nocturnal one.

Over the following weeks, you got to know Michael. At times, you couldn’t help but stare at him, but sometimes it felt as though you couldn’t do much else if you tried. He was a gracious host for how you imposed on him, showing concern for the bug bites you tried to hide from him. A good thing he noticed, as he brought you a cup of tea, a deep maroon color that he explained was a natural remedy from the village for the discomfort you were experiencing. A common occurrence that you’d been fortunate enough to avoid since arriving in Corleone.

“You’re not from around here either,” you said one night. “I can tell from your accent.”

“I’m from New York, but my father was born here,” he explained. “My last name is a mistake from when he immigrated.”

“Do you miss it?”

He was silent for some time, lost in thought before answering with a soft, “Terribly.”

“But you can’t go back.”

“No, I’m very sick. I wouldn’t survive the trip.”

“I’m sorry,” you said, your curiosity getting the better of you when you asked, “What do you have?”

“What I have is incredibly rare, there’s no word for it. Sunlight puts me in excruciating pain, and my appetite is abnormal.”

“How long have you been sick for?”

“Years. More than you’d believe.”

“You know, everyone in the village thinks this place is cursed. If you just talked to them, then they’d understand what was going on and maybe be able to help.”

“I can’t be around people. It’s not safe for them.”

“I don’t understand,” you said. “Are you contagious?”

He hesitated. “Not how you’d think.”

“No matter what you have, it’s not good to be alone,” you argued.

“You’re here now.”

“Only until it’s safe for me to go to Palermo and leave Sicily.”

He shook his head. “You won’t be able to leave. Not when a man like Don Manusco has a vendetta out against you,” he said, his intense gaze boring into you. Your chest grew tighter as he spoke. “This villa is the only place you’ll ever be safe.”

“Michael, you’re scaring me.”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I just know what he did to your parents…he and men like him have done to many others on this island, too.” Your silence perturbed him. He grabbed your shoulders, squeezing them gently, though his eyes seemed to blaze with fury. “I’m keeping you safe here, aren’t I?”

“Yes,” you whispered, your voice nearly catching in your throat.

“Then what’s there to be afraid of?”

“Nothing.”

“That’s right, as long as you stay here.”

“I can’t stay forever.”

He hummed dismissively, not bothering to acknowledge your statement. You soon excused yourself to go to sleep, a sudden uneasiness settling in your stomach.

You awoke late into the afternoon the following day, judging by the amber sunlight that streamed through the broken shutters. Still, your limbs felt heavy, and your head pounded as if you’d hardly slept at all. A quick glance at your arm revealed twin bug bites on your wrist again, this time darker than the previous ones, leaving your skin tender to the touch. 

Dizziness turned the room over when you sat up from the bed, and you nearly considered going back to sleep, if it weren’t for the hunger that ached in your bones. 

You ventured down into the kitchen, relieved to find a pot of tea sitting out. You didn’t even bother reheating it, though the consistency was odd, thicker in its room temperature state. The texture didn’t deter you, as the more you drank, the better you felt, your dizziness and aches gone as the tea overflowed from the corners of your mouth and dripped down your chin, insatiable until there was nothing left. Wiping off your face, you went back up to your room and fell back asleep.

A knock on the door woke you up in the pitch black some hours later. You lit the candle on your bedside table before getting up to answer. You knew it was Michael, concerned about why you hadn’t joined him yet. 

Just as you got up to answer, he opened the door, letting himself into your room–except it wasn’t your room. It was his, and you supposed he could enter whenever he wanted. 

Frozen in place by his gaze alone, you stood still and silent as he approached, demeanor darker and more intense as his presence filled the room, as if his essence somehow intermixed with each breath you took. A citrusy sweetness with a bloodcurdling undercurrent of violence filled your lungs. Despite this, you felt no fear, but rather anticipation when he finally reached out and caressed your cheek, his hand freezing against your warm skin.

“Michael,” you whispered.

“Don’t fight me, sweetheart.”

And you couldn’t. Not even if you tried. His eyes took in your face with a softness that betrayed his fondness for you. His lips pressed against yours, a chaste kiss to start, but it proved to be insufficient for him, as he claimed your mouth with the fervor of a man long starved for affection. His desire for you tangible as you kissed him back, allowing his hands to roam your body above your nightgown until his fingers brushed your thighs, pushing the hem up to your hips. 

He laid you back on the bed, ridding you of your panties and slipping his fingers between your folds. “Tell me how it feels,” he said, his lips against your skin. “Tell me everything.”

Before then, you would have died rather than admit it to him, but at his urging, the dam broke. Of course your thoughts of him weren’t always innocent. Some nights, when you were sure he was elsewhere, you touched yourself to the thought of him. The confession slipped from your mouth so quickly that shame couldn’t catch you, not when Michael pushed his fingers inside you, the heel of his palm rubbing against your clit, denying you any sensation but absolute pleasure. 

“I’ve wanted you since I first saw you,” he whispered, pressing desperate kisses into your neck. “You have no idea how hard it’s been for me not to–”

Your whine interrupted his train of thought, and a knife-sharp pain jolted through you when he sunk his teeth into your throat, breaking the fragile skin. His fingers curled inside you, a moan clawing its way out of you as you came, ecstasy pulsing through your limbs in waves that threatened to drown you in it. Spots clouded your vision and breath evaded you, the poignant scent of copper mixed with your sex made your head spin. 

“Michael, I–” You passed out, though you awoke later, curled up next to him, your body sore and more fatigued than ever. You winced when you tried to move your head, a dull ache coming from your neck. “What did you do?” you mumbled.

“Sweetheart?”

“To my neck.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, petting your hair. “I got carried away. I haven’t felt this way in a long time.”

“Me either,” you admitted. 

He smiled, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. From then on, he was ravenous, and like a woman possessed, you gave in to him every time. Nights with him blurred together as thoughts of escaping Sicily and the danger that waited for you outside of the villa walls were almost nonexistent. 

Some time later, though you’d largely stopped keeping track of the days by then, you realized your food supply was running low. Michael would go out at night and get some for you if you asked, though he never revealed where exactly he went. Still unsure of your safety from Don Manusco, you figured the farm up the road would be a good place to swipe some fruit from the orchard and anything else they might have lying around and not exactly miss.

The sun felt especially harsh when you went outside. Each step brought about unimaginable fatigue that made your bones ache. You hardly made it halfway to the farm before you had to rest beneath a large tree’s shade to rest your tired limbs and eyes. 

“Excuse me, miss? Are you okay?” 

You jolted awake, surrounded by a handful of elderly villagers from around the countryside. You recognized at least one of the older women as one of your old cafe companions in Corleone.

“I’m fine.”

The woman in question squinted at you. “Where do I know you from?”

“We’ve never met before,” you said, voice tight with panic. “I have to go. Goodbye.” You forced yourself up, using what little strength you had to return to the villa, ignoring their calls for you to wait. Exhaustion swept over you by the time you made it inside, promptly collapsing in the foyer. They had recognized you, and surely they had seen you retreat into the villa and were on their way to let Don Manusco know of your whereabouts. They’d be foolish not to with the price on your head.

Michael was nowhere to be found, and you worried that by the time you finally saw him that night, it’d be too late to tell him what transpired. Tears rolled down your cheeks as fear and guilt crept up on you. Your carelessness had put Michael in danger, too.

With no way of knowing how long it’d be until word got back to Manusco, you considered the layout of the villa, which you knew like the back of your hand, and the best place to hide if he or his men intruded in search of you.

In hindsight, the kitchen cupboard was a more obvious choice for a hiding spot, but it was the most your fatigued brain could come up with while you were panicked. 

Your instincts had been right, though. The inevitable intrusion did come.

The voices that echoed through the foyer were the same ones from the night you first arrived in the villa. You kept a hand over your mouth, the other with an iron grip around the kitchen knife. 

“Come on, Don Manusco isn’t angry with you. He just wants to talk,” one of the men called out.

“It’s a misunderstanding,” the other added. “He knows you didn’t have anything to do with your father’s schemes.”

You couldn’t take a chance on whether or not they were telling the truth. 

Footsteps approached, growing louder with each passing second. You readied yourself for attack, until you heard a blood-curdling scream rip through the night and you dropped the knife in shock. 

With all of the foolishness of your father, you opened the cupboard door. Blood pooled around the man’s head, a look of terror etched into his face, betraying his final thoughts. Your gaze lifted, and you stumbled backward, unable to comprehend the gruesome sight before you. If you hadn’t been watching Michael with your own eyes, you would have assumed an animal attack was responsible for the carnage at your feet. What more, after the initial shock wore off, an almost physical pull drew you to the spilled blood.

The villagers had been right. It wasn’t mere superstition, but reality, one more horrific than any of them could have fathomed. The unexplained murders, the livestock deaths, all by his hand. His illness a fabrication to conceal the true nature of his being, something unnatural that existed in the worlds between life and death with a hunger to match. He’d been feeding from you for weeks, allowing you to carry on believing lies. Of course you felt awful, constantly fatigued. You could only hazard a guess as to what was really in the tea you’d been drinking like a fiend.

You wished you could scream at yourself for your naivete, as if he’d help you out of the kindness of his heart and not expect something in return. Your willful ignorance of his odd behavior in exchange for refuge in the one place where you’d be safe from who you thought were the only men who wanted to harm you. But he saved you from Don Manusco and his men. He kept you alive. He could gain little from drawing out your death for so long. Unless…your eyes widened, and you looked at him in horror.

Michael spoke your name softly. “Do you understand now?”

“You–You’ve been making me like you.”

“I should have done it sooner. It’s the best way to keep you safe.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Would you have believed me?”

“I guess not.”

He cupped your face in his hands, “Things won’t be that different. We’ll be together. No one will be able to hurt you.” 

“How–How much longer until I’m–”

“As soon as tonight, if you’ll let me.” Sensing your hesitation, he pressed a bloody kiss to your forehead. “There’s nothing to be afraid of. You trust me, don’t you?”

“Yes,” you whispered, overwhelmed by the urge to trust him, to commit to an eternity of all-consuming, reclusive violence with him. “I want to be with you. I want to be like you.”

His hands drifted down to your neck, his fingers digging into your pulse as he leaned in, his teeth grazing the half-healed wound he’d inflicted all those nights before. “I knew you’d make the right choice.”

#the godfather #michael corleone #michael corleone x reader #the godfather x reader #michael corleone imagine #michael corleone fanfic #the godfather imagine #the godfather fanfic

[castielli]

How to request:

Send your request featuring the character you want, the plot (+ANGST, FLUFF…) and anything I need to know about the reader.

MASTERLISTS:

MOVIES/TV SHOWS

KDRAMA/KPOP

Fandoms I write for under the cut!

——————————————

NCIS

Timothy McGee

Jimmy Palmer

Nicholas Torres

CRIMINAL MINDS

Spencer Reid

Penelope Garcia (platonic🫶)

Luke Alvez

CALL OF DUTY (MW/WWII)

John Price

Soap MacTavish

Ghost Riley

Gaz Garrick

Alex Keller

Alejandro Vargas

Phillip Graves

Vladimir Makarov

Rudy Parra

Red Daniels

William Pierson

Joseph Turner

Robert Zussman

Frank Aiello

Drew Stiles

SHAMELESS

Ian Gallagher

Carl Gallagher

Lip Gallagher

Mickey Milkovich

Kevin Ball

THE WALKING DEAD (+TELLTALE GAME)

Rick Grimes

Daryl Dixon

Glenn Rhee

Negan Smith

Shane Walsh

Lee Everett

Kenny

Doug

Mark

STRANGER THINGS

Steve Harrington

Billy Hargrove

Robin Buckley (platonic)

Eddie Munson

Jim Hopper

Jonathan Byers

Peter/001

Jason Carver

Dimitri

THE UMBRELLA ACADEMY (I still need to finish the last season😊)

Viktor Hargreeves

Klaus Hargreeves

Diego Hargreeves

Number Five

Luther Hargreeves

Ben Hargreeves

SUPERNATURAL

Dean Winchester

Sam Winchester

Castiel

Crowley

Bobby (platonic)

Chuck

NOW YOU SEE ME

Jack Wilder

J. Daniel Atlas

Merritt McKinney

Dylan Rhodes

Chase McKinney

MARVEL (Avengers/X-men)

Wanda Maximoff

Tony Stark

Bruce Banner

Thor Odinson

Loki Laufeyson

Steve Rogers

Stephen Strange

Peter Parker (Tom/Andrew/Tobey)

Clint Barton

Deadpool

Bucky Barnes

Sam Wilson

Peter Quill

Quentin Beck/Mysterio

Eddie Brock/Venom

Druig

Ikaris

Charles Xavier

Erik Lehnsherr

Peter Maximoff

Wolverine

Scott Summers

Hank McCoy

Bobby Drake

Alex Summers

Phil Coulson

Marc Spector/Steven Grant/Jake Lockey

Scott Lang

Pietro Maximoff

Mobius M. Mobius

Matt Murdock

Shang-chi

STAR WARS

Anakin Skywalker

Luke Skywalker

Obi-Wan Kenobi

Kylo Ren

Poe Dameron

Finn

TEEN WOLF

Stiles Stilinski

Scott McCall

Derek Hale

Isaac Lahey

Jackson Whittemore

Peter Hale

Theo Raeken

Liam Dunbar

Jordan Parrish

Mason Hewitt

Danny Mahealani

Aiden Steiner

Ethan Steiner

Corey Bryant

THE BOYS IN THE BAND

Bernard

Harold

Hank

Donald

Cowboy

Alan McCarthy

Michael

Larry

Emory

WHITE COLLAR

Neal Caffrey

Peter Burke

Mozzie (platonic)

Clinton Jones

DIVERGENT

Peter

Caleb Prior

Four

HARRY POTTER

Neville Longbottom

Sirius Black

Cedric Diggory

Seamus Finnigan

Viktor Krum

Remus Lupin

Draco Malfoy

Tom Riddle

Charlie Weasley

Fred Weasley

George Weasley

Percy Weasley

Ron Weasley

Oliver Wood

FANTASTIC BEASTS AND WHERE TO FIND THEM

Gellert Grindelwald (Mads Mikkelsen)

Newt Scamander

Credence Barebone

Theseus Scamander

Albus Dumbledore (Jude Law)

HUNGER GAMES

Peeta Mellark

Coriolanus Snow

Sejanus Plinth

MAZE RUNNER

Newt

Thomas

Gally

Minho

911 (and LONE STAR)

Evan Buckley (Buck)

Howie Han (Chimney)

Bobby Nash

Eddie Diaz

TK Strand

Carlos Reyes

Paul Strickland

Owen Strand

Jud Ryder

Mateo Chavez

RIVERDALE

Jughead Jones

FP Jones

Archie Andrews

Hiram Lodge

Sweet Pea

Fangs

Kevin Keller

Reggie Mantle

Chic

Moose Mason

BROOKLYN99

Jake Peralta

Terry Jeffords

All the others (platonic only)

CHRISTIAN BALE

Patrick Bateman (American Psycho)

Bruce Wayne (Batman)

PEDRO PASCAL

Joel Miller (TLOU)

Din Djarin (The Mandalorian)

Javi Gutierrez (The Unbearable Weight of Massive Talent)

Javier Peña (Narcos)

Oberyn Martell (Game of Thrones)

Agent Whiskey (Kingsman)

Silva (Strange Way of Life)

Francisco Morales (Triple Frontier)

Marcus Moreno (We Can Be Heroes)

Dieter Bravo (The Bubble)

DETROIT BECOME HUMAN

Connor

RK900

Hank

Markus

Luther

Simon

Gavin

Josh

BARBIE

Ken (Ryan)

Ken (Simu)

Allan

SHERLOCK

Sherlock Holmes

John Watson

Jim Moriarty

Mycroft Holmes

FNAF (movie)

Mike Schmidt

Steve Raglan

SUITS

Harvey Specter

Mike Ross

LA CASA DE PAPEL

El Profesor

Berlín

Palermo

Denver

Río

I WON’T WRITE:

-Smut (for anyone)

-R*pe

-Female readers/GN readers

-Suic*de

-inc*st

-Crossdressing

-Romantic/Suggestive stories for underage characters (only platonic, basically)

If the character you wanted to request is not on the list, you can try and ask me anyways.

#x male reader #shadowhunters x male reader #Harry Potter x male reader #maze runner x male reader #fantastic beasts and where to find them x male reader #divergent x male reader #jumanji x male reader #white collar x male reader #Shazam x male reader #it x male reader #train to Busan x male reader #squid game x male reader #move to heaven x male reader #marvel x male reader #avengers x male reader #supernatural x male reader #shameless x male reader #criminal minds x male reader #NCIS x male reader #Wednesday x male reader #riverdale x male reader #Pedro pascal x male reader #patrick bateman x male reader #Brooklyn nine nine x male reader #Barbie x male reader #Detroit become human x male reader #male reader #la casa de papel x male reader #suits x male reader

[bi-bard]

I Wanna Prove My Love Before I Leave - Will Graham Imagine (Hannibal)

Title: I Wanna Prove My Love Before I Leave

Pairing: Will Graham X Reader

Based On: The Funeral

Word Count: 984 words

Warning(s): major character death, mention of murder/corpse mutilation

Summary: (Early Season 3) Hannibal sent shockwaves through the lives of everyone he met. The shockwaves he left in Will's life were greater than most.

Author's Note: Here we go! The Yungblud writing challenge has officially started!

YUNGBLUD WRITING CHALLENGE MASTERLIST!

-----------------------------

(Y/n) had been the one to figure out where Hannibal had most likely run off to.

"He has a taste for the extravagant," they had explained. "I don't think he'll deprive himself for long."

Will had been too focused on the scar on their back to hear them the first time. It was so fresh. He wondered if it still hurt. Hannibal had been calculated with him, but (Y/n)... (Y/n) wasn't important to Hannibal like they were to Will.

Their scar was jagged, rough. Heat of the moment. A scene that stained Will's eyelids. (Y/n) had been shoved into the kitchen wall and stabbed in the back. Will had been left on the ground, watching their eyes beg for help as they couldn't form the words. It was a miracle they were alive, never mind walking.

Will wanted to reach out. Run his finger along the scar in some misguided hope of comforting them. But he didn't. He was too scared of hurting them. He had already dragged (Y/n) through more than they had ever deserved.

"Will," (Y/n) said, getting his attention as they pulled on a shirt, covering up the scar. "Are you listening?"

"Sorry," he replied.

(Y/n) sighed. They walked over, scanning his face. "You should get some sleep. We can talk about this in a little bit."

"I don't need sleep."

"Will."

"I'm fine."

"Okay," they muttered. "He said he had a mind palace, right? A construct in his mind?"

Will nodded to them.

"That would need to be constructed from something."

"You think it's a real place?"

"I think it has to start with a real place."

"Find the real place," Wil mumbled. They nodded to him.

That's how the pair ended up walking into the Norman Chapel at Palermo. Italy. (Y/n) had talked about going there once but wasn't sure if they could handle leaving the dogs for that long.

The chapel was being investigated when they finally made it.

A body had been discovered. Mutilated.

Will and (Y/n) almost took turns circling the corpse. A human heart. A gift? An apology? Neither one could decide on its true purpose.

Will sat on the steps in the chapel.

His thoughts were getting twisted around. He couldn't sort through them. (Y/n) tried to help. They were asking all the right questions. Will just couldn't find the right answers.

"It's hard to understand a man that sees himself as more than a man," (Y/n) finally relented.

"What do you mean," Will asked, not looking up from the ground.

"Hannibal sees himself worthy of killing and displaying so many corpses... I refuse to believe that he sees himself as anything less than a god," (Y/n) replied to a question with a question.

Will just shrugged.

(Y/n) could see him deflating. They didn't like seeing him like this. They hated it.

"You'll catch him," (Y/n) said before kneeling in front of him. "I know you will."

"Is that when you disappear," he asked, eyes finally meeting theirs.

(Y/n) bit their lip. "If you don't know, why would I?"

Will's eyes clenched shut as he tilted his head down. He wanted to grab onto (Y/n) like they were an anchor. But he couldn't. (Y/n) hadn't been there for a long time.

They died on that kitchen floor. There was no chance for them. Will stopped sleeping, barely ate. He was weak. A mess. He only started getting better when (Y/n) started showing up again. His personal guiding light.

The dogs spent a whole day after he got home whining at the door. They only had one owner back. Where was the other one? The one will all the treats and the toys.

"I didn't want to let you go."

It came out in a broken voice. Shaking. He tried to hold back his tears.

"You didn't get a funeral," he continued mumbling. "I didn't give you a proper ceremony."

"You would've been the only one there," they replied. "My family rejected me. Most of my friends were dead or in intensive care."

"You were supposed to be my forever," a sob finally broke through. "After Jack and Hannibal and Alana and... all of it... you were always going to be there. What do I do now?"

His eyes found (Y/n)'s.

They were filled with tears. A sad smile graced (Y/n)'s lips.

"I can't do this without you," he muttered. "I can barely live without you."

"It'll get easier."

"Where do I go from here? What's the next step?"

(Y/n) shrugged.

"You were always better at this than me."

"I got you here," they motioned at the chapel. "I wasn't going to leave without helping one last time."

"And now? You're leaving?"

(Y/n) leaned in and kissed him gently. It felt real. If anyone were around, they would've locked the grieving man away. But he didn't care about that risk. He just returned the kiss as passionately as he could, hoping that prolonging it would allow him to hold onto (Y/n) a little while longer.

"I love you," he whispered as (Y/n) pulled away. "I love you so much."

"I love you too."

(Y/n) stood up slowly, taking a few steps back.

"Hold a funeral for me after you catch Hannibal," they instructed. "Nothing big. Just at the house. All the dogs. Bring Alana. Maybe Jack. I don't know... dance to those stupid CDs that I insisted on keeping. Let me go. Properly."

Will nodded.

"I love you, Will Graham. This wasn't your fault."

Will watched (Y/n)'s face contort in pain as their body tried to arch away from the knife. Blood dripped to the ground. (Y/n)'s lifeless body started to fall to the ground.

Will closed his eyes for a moment before it landed.

When he opened them again, there was no blood. No body.

(Y/n) was gone.

Forever.

And Will was going to have to find a way to get used to that.

-----------------------------

Author's Note: I made myself sad.

-----------------------------

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#will graham x reader #will graham fanfiction #will graham imagine #fanfiction #imagine #x reader #hannibal imagine #hannibal x reader #hannibal fanfiction

[roseofdarknessblog]

By the Sea (Marcel Galliard x Reader)

Word count: 2 620

Disclaimer: english is not my first language, I apologize in advance for any mistakes

A/N: My anxiety is through the roof since yesterday and I really needed to distract myself somehow. So here... have some nice Marcel fluff for a better day and take care ❤️

Summary: Sometimes all you need is a picture-perfect day at the beach. Clear blue skies, a good book, and the company of your beloved boyfriend, the one and only Marcel Galliard.

By the Sea

A light breeze kissed your cheeks and woke you up from an unexpected nap. With eyes still heavy with sleep, you blinked a few times trying to make out your surroundings. You were at the beach, of course – laying on your favorite blanket, your tote bag comfortably folded under your head, and a nearly empty picnic basket just a few feet away. Marcel got the idea of taking a short drive to the nearest beach out of nowhere, and you weren′t objecting. It was way too long since the two of you spent the day like this. Somewhere nice and just relaxing. Not thinking about work, school, or any other responsibility.

„You okay?“ Marcel asked while you were still sleepily looking up at the bright blue sky. Only a handful of puffy white clouds were seen scattered around randomly. You could hear seagulls somewhere in the distance, while the slowly coming and going sea waves were creating one of your favorite sounds ever. The weather was absolutely perfect, warm and sunny, with only a slight breeze that made the heat more bearable.

„Yeah, just... how long was I asleep?“ you asked, only then noticing that your still open book way laying on your chest.

Reading was your favorite form of escaping reality. Especially, when you picked up a book you′ve read in the past and loved dearly. Just like this morning, when you decided to start Howl′s Moving Castle for like a fifth time. But it was your first time reading the special edition Marcel got you last Christmas. He knew how much you loved the story, and despite you already owning the whole trilogy, he didn′t hesitate even for a second, when he saw this edition at the bookstore while searching for a perfect gift for you – his beloved girlfriend. He knew you would love it. And he was right, just like always, when it came to your favorite things.

„Not too long, maybe thirty minutes. Didn′t want to wake you up, you really need to rest after the last few months.“ You smiled, closed your book, and rolled over to your side so you could be closer to Marcel. He immediately put his phone down, where he was looking for some summer vacation options, and turned his attention to you. „What do you think about Venice, Bologna, Rome, Florence, or Palermo? Would you like to go there?“

„You wanna go to Italy?“

He shrugged. „Maybe, it looks amazing there. The scenery, all that architecture, and apparently brilliant food. We could go road-tripping around the country if you′d like. So we can see as many places as we want.“

It really did sound appealing. Spending a week or two together, exploring a new country none of you visited before. Marcel had seen many places around the world before the two of you started dating and was more than happy when there was a chance to travel somewhere. Especially with you as his most precious and loving travel buddy. He also loved showing you photos and videos of all the places he visited, while promising to one day go back there with you. Especially to the locations that caught your eyes the most. Places like Iceland, Switzerland, Greece, Ireland, Canada or Hawaii.

„Do we have enough money for something like that? I mean... I would like to go, it sounds absolutely amazing, but I′m not sure we can afford it this summer. We just moved to the new apartment, I have to pay for my car and...“ You loved when Marcel shut you up with a gentle but passionate kiss. Mostly in moments like these, when your need to overanalyze every little detail started to ruin the magic of the present moment.

„What did we agree on before coming here? No overthinking, overanalyzing, or worrying about anything,“ Marcel said, his lips still just mere inches from your mouth. With another smile he kissed the tip of your nose, pulling you into a tight hug. „It′s not like we have to pay for everything right now at this moment. We have time to think it through. It was just a suggestion.“

„I know, sorry,“ you said, burying your face into his chest.

He spent a lot of time at work these last few weeks. And with you trying to balance university and a part-time job, there were days when the two of you hardly saw each other. Mostly just early in the morning or in the evening, when it was finally time to sleep. You missed him terribly every single day and knew, he missed you too. Texting each other throughout the day just wasn't the same.

„It′s fine, don't apologize,“ he whispered, planting a kiss on the top of your head. „I was thinking that maybe we could go as a little group. You know... us two, and Porco with Pieck. If you don't mind, of course.“

„Why would I? Your brother is always good company and Pieck is my best friend since kindergarten. I′m happy to spend time with her.“ Not to mention that it was thanks to you, that she and Marcel′s baby brother, as he liked to address Porco to make him mad, started dating in the first place. „And speaking of couples... did you hear about Annie and Bert? She sent me a picture this morning when you were in the shower... and then I somehow forgot to tell you.“

„I heard, of course. He called me and Reiner with him when he went to buy the engagement ring. Said he picked out a few different options but wasn′t sure which one to get, so he needed someone else′s opinion.“

„Why didn't you tell me?“ you asked surprised, pulling away slightly to look at him. Gosh, he was so effortlessly beautiful, when the light breeze was playing with strands of his hair. The way the sunlight made his eyes look like dark pools of honey always took your breath away. „How long did you know that he′s going to propose to her?“

„Why? Because you and Annie are together all the time and I didn′t want to risk you accidentally telling her.“ You rolled your eyes at him. Marcel laughed, lovingly tugging a few strands of hair behind your ear. The tips of his fingers brushed against your cheek just a moment before he pressed his lips to the exact same spot. „Do you like the ring we picked out?“

You nodded excitedly, remembering the photo Annie sent you this morning. „It′s really beautiful. Simple and elegant, it matches Annie and her style perfectly. Bert really knows what suits her the best.“ The two of them were dating since high school, so it was only natural, that they knew each other more than perfectly.

And it was thanks to them, you got to know Marcel. Since Pieck, Annie, and you were classmates in high school, you knew Bertholdt for a pretty long time as well. But it was just shortly before graduation, that he introduced you to his neighbor and one of his best friends – Marcel Galliard. For you, it was love at first sight. Just like in all of those books and movies you′ve read and seen. And now, almost five years later, you couldn′t be happier. With Marcel by your side, you had absolutely everything in the whole wide world.

„Would you like a similar one?“ Marcel asked suddenly, visibly enjoying the panic that made your cheeks turn red.

„What... what do... what do you mean?“ you stuttered, burying your face into his chest once again while laughing nervously. „I hate how you always make me flustered when I expect it the least,“ you mumbled into his shirt, while Marcel laughed at your reaction wholeheartedly.

„It was just an innocent question, nothing more. It′s not like I′m gonna kneel before you and pop out a ring from my pocket. But if you′d like that...“

Even more shocked, you once again looked into his face, finding a cheeky grin on his lips. His eyes were so visibly filled with happiness and love. It almost made your heart burst from the realization that it′s because of you.

It was you, who made him this happy.

You and only you.

„Are you trying to tell me that you bought me an engagement ring as well?“ Marcel shrugged, rolling over to his back with you still in his embrace. He made himself more comfortable, one hand running up and down your back, while you rested on his broad chest.

„Maybe I saw one that I really liked. Just maybe...“

With a quiet laugh, you kissed the warm skin on his neck, closing your eyes for a short while. Was this really happening? At that moment... was that really your life? Suddenly everything seemed so easy and beautiful. So simple and calm. When the two of you were joking around like that, you truly had hope for the future. In everything that was about to come your way. With Marcel by your side, it was truly effortless to imagine the rest of your life. All you saw was never-ending happiness. Not necessarily without a few hard or unpleasant days, they were a part of everyone's life, but still... with him, even the darkest moments would pass much quicker.

„Marcel...“

„What? I′m just planning ahead a little. Can you blame me?“ Looking down at you, his eyes studied your face for a short while. The perfect quiet moment between the two of you was only disturbed by the calming sounds of the sea. „I love you so much,“ he finally said, grabbing your chin gently and bringing your face closer for a little kiss. His lips always tasted like the sweetest flavors of love one could imagine.

„I love you too,“ you said, kissing him once more and running your hand through his hair. It was so thick and soft, you just loved to play with it at every given chance. Mostly in bed, when the two of you were cuddled up next to each other.

Marcel loved to fall asleep while you were playing with his hair and reading to him at the same time. Listening to your voice, as you read him a few pages from your current read always helped him relax, even after the most stressful day. Because when he was there, curled up in your arms and listening to your every word very carefully, he felt safe and loved. And you? You were so grateful for the boy slowly falling asleep right there next to you, that sometimes tears started to pool in your eyes, while your lips were smiling and your whole chest was full of the warmest and nicest feelings possible.

„Coming here was a good idea, we should do it more often. All the problems seem miles away when the sea is at hands reach.“

„I collected some seashells while you were sleeping. A couple of kids ran by, ranting about how many they found over there by those big rocks, so I went to check it out.“ Without you asking to see them, Marcel reached over to the picnic basket and pulled out the now-empty container, that had your favorite fruit salad inside before. Now it was filled with colorful seashells of various shapes and sizes. „You always loved putting them on display at home. And I owe you a few new ones for those I accidentally destroyed last time.“

It was a funny story, actually. Marcel had a few days off, so he decided to help you out with some work around the new apartment. Cleaning was never his favorite activity to pass time, even though you tried to convince him, that moping the floor, doing laundry, or washing the dishes made him look absolutely irresistible. After all... it wasn′t a complete lie.

On that unfortunate day, Marcel was trying to be nice and clean the apartment before you got home from school. What he wasn't planning on doing, was knocking down one of your favorite display bowls from your bookshelf, which was filled with many different seashells the two of you found during your trips to the beach. The bowl was shattered beyond repair and many of the seashells as well, especially the more fragile ones.

It made you upset at first, but seeing how sorry Marcel was... You didn′t have the heart to stay mad at him for long. One delicious home-cooked dinner was enough to make you forgive him. It was no secret, that Marcel knew his way around the kitchen. Your friends loved coming over for lunch or dinner when he was the one cooking or baking. His chocolate-chip banana bread was to die for, not to mention the best poppy seed and lemon muffins under the sun.  

„They are adorable,“ you said, while looking through the seashells Marcel picked up. „Just try not to break them this time.“ Leaning closer, you kissed his cheek, resting your forehead against his. „Thank you.“

There was nowhere to hurry. Not today. The two of you could stay for as long, as you like. So you suggested waiting until sunset, even though it was many hours away. But Marcel didn't mind. Not when you picked up your book once again and started reading out loud. He liked Howl and Sophie′s story as well, his favorite character being the Fire demon Calcifer himself.

While you were reading, he was sorting through the seashells, admiring them one by one, and ultimately used some of them to decorate a cute little sand castle he put together at the edge of the blanket. He said it was his own version of Howl′s castle from the story.

The rest of the day was spent simply relaxing, fooling around in the pleasantly cool water, and taking some photos. You loved to capture simple moments like these, just to have the option to look back at them, when you needed it the most.

„About that engagement ring...“ Marcel said unexpectedly with his head in your lap, while the sky high above you seemed like it was on fire. Rich orange and golden hues transformed the beach around you into a scenery that seemed straight out of a fantasy novel. „Would you like something simple like Annie, or something more extra?“

„You know my style, so I think you′re perfectly capable of choosing the right one.“ To be honest, you never thought about how your engagement ring should look like. After all, it wasn′t up to you. „I don't like showing off.“

„It′s not about showing off. More about...“ He thought for a second, his hands playing with your fingers. „I don′t know, I just want to be sure, that everything is going to be perfect. I want you to remember that moment forever.“

„It′s going to be perfect because it will be you, with who I′ll share the moment,“ you assured him, leaning down and gently kissing his lips. „I can′t wait to spend the rest of my life with you, Marcel.“ The tips of your fingers were tracing along his jaw and chin.

„We′ll make the best of it. I can assure you.“

Little did you know, that on that day the two of you visited the beach as boyfriend and girlfriend for the very last time. All that talk about engagement rings wasn′t just to fill in the quiet moments. Marcel really did buy a ring you absolutely adored from the second you saw it, when he knelt in front of you with love and hope in his beautiful brown eyes.

So the next time you visited your favorite beach, you went there as Marcel′s fiancee and future Mrs. Galliard.

#marcel galliard #marcel galliard x reader #marcel galliard x you #porco galliard #pieck finger #annie leonhart #bertholdt hoover #reiner braun #aot x you #aot x reader #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin

[kenobiknight]

heal/deja vu

pairing: palermo/martin x reader x berlin/andrés, palermo x berlin

pronouns used for the reader are: she/her

setting: pre canon, they are in their late 20s to early 30s

warnings: domestic abuse, infidelity, violence

genre: hurt/comfort, fluff

word count: ~3,5k

summary: reader finally confesses to her old friends about her relationship with her husband and they show her that she can be loved

note: this is just pure fun and was to cope w my own things..i’d thought i share it here :)

It was late through the night when his phone rang. Two men just happened to be together at that time in Martín’s rather cheap apartment. Of course, she had no clue about that but she decided to call Martín. For a while she had always chosen him as her safe haven. 

“Martín?” she was whispering, he immediately noticed that. But that could easily be shrugged off. He continued laying on the couch with legs stretched out. 

“(y/n)?” that made the other man turn his head at the too familiar name.

“Are you at home?” He hummed as a yes and he caught the eyes of Andres who was reading a book on the single couch.

“I’m coming over alright?”

He frowned a bit but then hummed, “Mi casa es tu casa,” then he heard her sniff lightly, “thank you.” It was so genuine and almost desperate. Martín brows furrowed but decided to not comment on it knowing this was not a conversation to have over the phone.

“Well, hurry or else i have to put out the keys,” he said, trying to keep the mood light. Then the line went dead, he let his phone go back onto his lap.

“(y/n)?”

“She said she wants to come cover.” he said with a small shrug.

“She sure picked up a time.” Martín hummed, then he smiled. Andrés shifted in his seat rather uncomfortably. “Maybe I should leave,” he sat up, then leaned over to Andrés, who had a frown on his face.

“Aw c’mon, it would be a late night reunion.” brushed his hand against Andrés’ shoulder and gave him a look. “I’m sure she has no grudges against you anymore, I remember the last time I mentioned you to her she didn’t get into a hot mess.” Andrés pursed his lips, turning his head away and Martín decided to ask: “Do you?” 

Andrés then leaned back into his seat, a book long forgotten on his lap. “It has been a long time.” he confessed looking out of the window, “I doubt it will be the same as before.”

“It won’t but it’s probably all long forgiven and forgotten. Don’t worry.” Martín's hand was on his shoulder, giving it reassuring a squeeze. Andrés turned to his friend and then gave him a smile.

Time passed till there was a knock on the front door of the apartment in the middle of Madrid. Martín stood up and opened up the door. there was (y/n) pacing in the small hallway, she stilled after hearing the door being opened behind her.

“(y/n)?”

“This was a mistake,” he heard her say then turn away to go down the stairs. He stepped out and reached out to grasp into her wrist stopping her.

“Ay!” to Martín’s horror there the face he had known for such a long time and admired had an ugly bruise on it. “Puta madre” he hissed, pulling her forward. “what happened to your face? And don’t lie!” To say that this was the first time he had seen her with bruises on the body he worshiped who be a lie.

“I fell,” his jaw clenched, then she groaned, shaking her head looking away. “What do you think?” Her voice had shattered and there were tears bubbling in her eyes.

Martín closed his eyes to calm himself down. “Come inside, I will make you something sweet.” he grabbed her back and pulled her into his apartment. “Let's put some ice on it, too, yes?”

The door had closed behind her as she followed him to the kitchen. She didn’t reply back, the weight too heavy on her shoulders. “Sit, corazón,” he pulled the chair from the table and she sat on it obediently. She felt so exhausted from the night so she didn’t fuss about him ordering her around like usual. The iced pack of peas on her eye was a lot at first but soon was soothing.

“No time to greet me?”

“Christ, Andrés.” Martín hissed, accidentally hitting his head against the cupboard while he was searching for some flour and sugar. Andrés’ face fell into a deep frown when (y/n) had looked up at him with a pea bag against her face.

“What happened there?” He stepped forward, touching her hand that held the cold goods.

“I didn't know you were here.” She said, staring at him with her eye that didn’t hold any bruises. “Martín seems to have left that out,” Martín glanced at her.

“It went over my head to tell you,” he waved his hand pouring ingredients into a bowl.

Andrés didn’t say anything. He put his hand over hers and tried to move the pack away to see what was under it, but her grip tightened.

“Let me get a look, princesa” he purred, rubbing her hand with his finger comfortingly. So when her grip loosened and his hand moved it way seeing the dark fresh bruise. When he got a glimpse of it she moved the pack to hide. “Where did you get that from?” he then asked, still so soothingly. Martín knew and Andrés didn’t. They haven’t seen each other in so long so how could he know. And she knew Martín wouldn’t tell anyone.

“My pig of a husband,” she said nonchalantly. What was the point in lying to Andrés? She had lied to Martín before but he figured it out. If it had been a slap on the face or even another punch but with the exhaustive fight before and after it she would have blown up right now. But she was tired. Tired of fighting. Tired of lying.

Andrés didn’t say anything at first. Honestly she did expect a ‘i told you so’ from him. Afterall he was the only one that was against her marriage to that man. But she didn’t get that. He had his lips in a line and he was hard to read. 

“For how long?” He kept his voice calm.

“What?”

“I'm assuming that this wasn’t the first time,” she looked away, when did it start? She tried to think of the answer but she wasn’t really sure. Definitely after the honeymoon and before she got the promotion at her job.

“For a while,” she simply answered and saw Martín still. then open up the oven and shove something in before turning around. Leaning against the counter.

“The cake will be finished in 35 minutes.” There came a silence but a small smile grew on (y/n)’s lips and that made martín smile too.

“Thanks, Martín.”

“Anything to get you to smile,” this made her roll her eyes at his teasing. she reached out for him with her hand. “How about,” she looked at Andrés when Martín gave her his hand, “we watch a movie?” She was smiling and to Andrés it felt like deja vu. 

“A black and white one?”

“Yes!” She almost squealed, a grin formed on Andrés face and he looked at martín who also had a mirroring grin. He stepped forward pulling (y/n) up from her seat. andres stepped closer then wrapping his arm around hers. The trio gave each other smiles before making their way to the living room. They settled on the couch with a blanket to keep them warm and Martín started the movie.

They settled in and the movie played on the screen, it was like before, before Andrés and (y/n)’s big fight at her wedding. It was like it never happened, she leaned her head against andres’ shoulder. He looked down there and she was smiling at him.

Forgiven and forgotten.

He smiled back leaning forward pressing lips against her head.

“Your peas are wetting me.” Martín said, his head was on her lap and he pointed at the water. andres smiled, whipping away the water that had fallen down on martin’s face.

“Such a baby,” Andrés hummed with a teasing smile.

“Ah,” she pulled it down and then leaned forward putting the bag on the table. Martín grunted at being pushed. She settled back and could feel the wound thumping. Martín and Andrés stared at her, they felt the anger rise in them though she didn’t notice or pretended to not notice.

“So, who is going to get the cake?” she decided to ask.

Martín sat up, “mierda.” And he was off to the kitchen.

Andrés turned his head back to her and then grasped her nose with his thumb and index finger. Their eyes met and a teasing smile formed on his lips starting to squeeze her nose. She let out a noise at that and he laughed.

“Ay!”

“Ay! Andrés!” The little girl squealed as the boy who was her classmate pulled on her nose. The mischievous boy was grinning as the girl struggled in his grip. “let go!” She screeched trying her best to get out and when she couldn't, Andrés continued laughing. Then her eyes sharpened, pulled her hand up curled into a fist and swung it at the face.

He had finally let go and found himself on the floor with the chair and the table moved back. He stared at her in shock.

Quickly enough the two children found themselves at the principal’s office. Her feet swung above the ground. The boy, Andrés, was sitting next to her with an ice pack, given to him by the nurse, on his cheek

“How are you even in my class? You’re a little girl.”

“So a little girl punched you?” He glared at her and then the floor.

“They told me I should be in that class because in my previous class it was boring,” he glanced at her and then back at the door.

“So you're a nerd.” She looked at the older boy but decided not to say anything, just let her feet swing in front of her. The door finally opened again revealing the principle.

“We've called your parents, Andrés, and the orphanage ms. (y/n).” Andrés turned to her in surprise. “I will take it that this hopefully won’t happen again in the future.” The two kids looked at their principal and nodded their heads as a yes. “Well, glad we could sort this out. Now expect you to go to your classes.” Then he left them again.

They sat there in silence. “We actually have a break now,” she mumbled, then pushed herself up to her feet and then started walking away. The boy sat there watching her walk away.

Andrés let go of her nose and she puffed at him. He closed his eyes but the smile stayed.

“How is Sergio by the way?” She decided to ask as he leaned back into his seat. His smile widened at the mention of his brother.

“He's doing good,” she hummed, leaning forward putting her hand on his hair and smiling as he talked about his brother and his doings. She softly brushed his back and forward, as annoying as this would be from anyone but her (and Martín). This was soothing. He closed his eyes at one point.

“Andrés,” she then whispered. “I'm glad that you’re here.” he turned to look at her and his heart thumped against his chest hard. She smiled at him, while he stared at her with an unreadable expression.

“Here comes the cake, amigos.” There came Martín with one big plate of chocolate cake on it, three spoons and in his other hand a bottle of heavy cream. A grin on his face when he gave the plate to (y/n) and then shook the bottle. “Open up, cariño,” the tip was close to her mouth now and when she opened up the whipped cream poured in. His eyes stared back into hers and were twinkling glancing down a few times. She pushed his wrist away when she had enough, closing her mouth.

“Señor,” the opening now close to Andrés’ mouth. His words made Andrés roll his eyes. (y/n) had a closed smile on her lips with her cheeks chubby with the cream. So he opened his mouth and let Martín fill it with the whipped cream. She watched as she swallowed. Again Andrés had to push Martín’s hand away to make him stop.

“Martín!” Andrés grunted loudly, whipping away the excessive cream from the corner of his mouth. (y/n) laughed joyfully, her head falling back. She set aside the cake to reach out for the bottle as he was laughing.

“It’s your turn Martín,” she giggled then she turned her head to andres. “Andrés,” there didn’t need to be any more words he stood up grabbing into Martín, who started protesting loudly but couldn’t help the smile from breaking out.

“Aw martin, c’mon, let us give you a taste,” (y/n) had shifted closer then poured in the whipped cream into his mouth, but accidentally spilled over his mouth while she was laughing. Biting her bottom lip she decided to go with it, moving the can to spread the foam around his face. Andrés had a wide grin while watching and listened to Martín complain. She fell back into the couch laughing at the sight in front of her. Martín cursed her out as he freed himself from Andrés’ arms.

Suddenly Martín felt Andrés very close to him and he glanced to the side seeing the other man licking the whipped cream from his face. His breath hitched. Andrés then moved away, licking his own lips and he hummed approvingly. “Have a taste,” Andrés’ finger ran down Martín’s face to scoop up some cream. Soon enough the finger was against Martín’s lips and he opened his mouth and took the finger in his mouth. Andrés watched carefully, biting his bottom lip.

(y/n) sat against the couch shaking her head and grabbed onto the plate taking the first bite with a spoon. Her knees pulled up to her chest, she was more focused on the cake. Then she felt her jeans starting to get too tight for liking. She sat back down the plate.

“I will go change while you two decide whether you want to make out with each other or not.” She stood up walking past them to roll her back into Martín’s room. She opened up her bag taking out a shirt before taking off the one she was wearing. Sliding off her pants after she put on the new shirt.

The scar on her upper thigh glared at her. Her hand found it, tracing it with her finger. She got on her knees pulling out the shorts she had gotten to put them on. Then she realized that it would show if she sat down and the question would start. This was just too painful. Immediately she took off and then she got back on her knees searching for some long comfortable bottoms. When she didn’t find one she cursed under her breath.

“Martín!!” She called out from the door. 

“What is it?” she heard him call back, she let out a sigh.

“Can I borrow some sweats or something long?” she asked then moved back into the room to lean against the wall waiting for an answer. The answer didn’t come and she frowned.

“He's washing up,” she turned her head at the voice and saw Andrés standing at the doorway, quickly grabbing into it to hide her leg. “but he said go crazy.” 

“Pfft,” she smiled at him and he smiled back “you can leave now.” she said but he stared at her studying her. Then he stepped forward, his hand wrapping around the door and watching her push herself more toward the door.

“Why are you hiding?” he decided to ask.

“I’m in my underwear”

“I have seen you in your underwear before and even less,” he stated and she stilled, her face flattered. A few seconds passed then a small smirk formed on her lips.

“Andrés, I’m married,” she cooed, shaking her head and then turning away from him. Specifically to hide her scar from him. Andrés let out a laugh from behind her watching her go to his closet. Opening before she turned to the side.

“Married but spent the night at another man's home,” his tongue bitter, though there was a smug grin found on his face. “and wearing his clothes.” She rolled her eyes putting on one of Martín’s sweats. Oddly enough she and Martín had similar sizes, it might be a little big but worked.

She hummed, turned back to him, her legs covered up. “All these things are correct. But it can't be compared to cheating.”

“As if that man hasn't cheated on you by now.” His words were sharp, cold and harsh. 

She was taken back and then glared at him. “Real low blow even for you, Andrés.” she almost spit out his name. “You can just tell me if you don’t want me here.” Andrés shook his head, a small laugh escaped his lips. 

“I want you here! but i can’t understand why you keep going back to him,” here it was. 

“When he loves Andrés, I feel like I’m flying with him and nothing can bring us down.”

“But it stops.” Andrés steps closer, “that’s why you always come to stay at Martín’s to escape him.” his hands found the nape of her neck. “Escape him, (y/n)!” his thumb creased her jaw. “that feeling,”  he stared deep into her eyes, “is it really worth it?”

Before she could say anything a phone rang. She blinked, turning her head to look down into her open luggage. her phone showed the caller as it rang.

When she saw who it was she looked back at Andrés. Panic flashed in her eyes and the more she thought of the choice she could make, fear crawled into her chest. She blinked rapidly then she looked back at andres. Her leg suddenly started hurting, aching badly. Her hand grasped into it where the wound was. 

“I can’t go back,” she whispered, Andrés’ brows furrowed. His eyes narrowed studying her and his eyes dropped to her hand. “I can’t go back, Andrés,” she was in pain.

He stepped forward wrapping his hand around her neck. “You don’t have to go back.” Andrés’ voice soothed her. The phone continued to ring and her fingers dug into her flesh. she knew it would just irritate it but it hurt so bad. 

“What's wrong with your leg?” Martín stood at the door freshly washed with a deep frown. She let go of it. 

Andrés didn’t say anything, seemingly agreeing with Martín’s curiosity. From her phone still ringing to now being questioned, this could not get any worse. But it did as she felt another painful strike in her leg. “What the…” she tried to think of a reason that it might be hurting this much. 

So she turned, dropping to her knees, grabbing into her phone and answering, “I’m not coming back, Matthias, you hurt me really badly!!” 

“I was going to apologize-“

“Your apology should have been taking me to the damn hospital!” she hissed quietly into the phone. “Just stop calling me for at least a day.” She didn’t let him have another word and hung up. A shaky breath escaped her lungs and she felt rather faint. Though then she decided to push it all down and stood up. “I really feel like dancing right now,” the two men glanced at each other, “hope your neighbors won’t mind, Martín.”

Then she skipped out to the living room, the men followed her watching her figure out the stereo. Soon enough a familiar pop melody was playing. Andrés turned his head to martin raising his brow. “She basically threatened me to buy them,” Martín said in defense. she got into the middle of the room by pushing the table to the side. music was her escape since she was a child, so feeling the music with her body and dancing was second nature to her. 

And when the song was right for the moment she could just feel herself. Her eyes closed as she danced along to the song. Andrés and Martín watched her enjoy herself, her dancing was gentle and it went with the rhythm of the song. 

After the chorus she opened her eyes and then reached out to them, Martín smiled and was the first to join. Her arm wrapped around his neck and his hand around her waist. they twirled around the small space. 

Andrés decided to join them going behind (y/n) putting his hands on her waist, one of his hands resting on top of martin’s. He leaned down moving his head so it was against hers and a giggle left her lips. Martín smiled, leaning down his head on the other side of hers, his lips brushing against her neck. It wasn’t an unfamiliar state or feeling, dancing between Andrés and Martín. They have known each other for a long time and their friendship has always leaned at the edge. 

She squirmed a bit, hearing Andrés’ words echo in her head. She turned her head to Andrés, who smiled at her, and without thinking much about it she leaned in kissing Andrés. The man kissed her back with passion, like he was waiting for this moment to come. Martín's lips found her neck and it felt deja vu. 

And it felt right.

#berlin x reader #palermo x reader #money heist imagines #money heist scenarios #money heist #la casa de papel #berlin x palermo

[despairinthedeparturelounge]

SO I'VE BEEN THINKING ABOUT PALERMO ( MARTIN BERROTE ) AND HOW MUCH I LOVE HIM BUT THEN SEARCHED ALL OVER WATTPAD AND HERE, AND THERE WASN'T ENOUGH IMAGINE / ONE-SHOT OF HIM, SO I DECIDED TO WRITE ONE MYSELF..... I'M NOT A WRITER SO IF IT'S TOO BAD OR CLINGY DON'T COME AT ME!

A big thanks to those who wrote palermo one-shots and here's mine:

Warning: mention of pregnancy /pure fluff:>

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"You're a fucking jerk Berrote! A fucking jerk!"

You yelled climbing up the stairs to make it to your shared room, hoping to find him there,

"por qué, mi amor?" Martin said appearing in your way out of nowhere, smiling like fools. If you didn't know him you would have definitely said he's drunk, but he's not! It was just him, he was looking at you without blinking, nodding to your nonstop nagging, "are you even listening?" You asked him, crossing your arms in front of your chest, "si, si, mi amor!" He said grabbing you by your arms and pulling you back to the room, not disconnecting the eye contact with you "it's just...you look so pretty when you're mad!" He continued keeping you close to him, "Did you even heard a word i said?" You said narrowing your eyes at him. He forced your body down to lay on the bed, and as you laid ln bed soft material of the bed sheets you move your body more to your side to find a comfortable corner for yourself when Martin crawled onto you placing his hands on both sides of your head on bed watching you being quiet for more than a minute now, "what were you so pissed about even?" "Your papers are all over my canvas and now, my painting is ruined, thanks to you!" You said as you turned your head to the side watching the view from the big window across the the room.

Martin lowered down a little, placing a kiss right under your ear and slowly draw them down to your neck, taking a deep breath to smell your scent, sweet and more vanilla like, he loved it and he adored you with his whole heart, so did you. "This was the last painting i could finish before i'm not able to sit somewhere for long!" You said with a sad tone, placing your hand on your belly, It wasn't that big yet, just a little bump that can easily be covered with an over sized shirt, like what you always do, the baby was only four month old, but Martin was already in love with the little creature you carry around, "oh so you were mad 'cause of this?" He moved his hand down on your belly, carefully caressing the little bump, lowering himself down even more, so now his face is next to your belly "All these shouting 'cause mommy can't sit to draw for a long time! You see? You are already bothering her, that's not good cariño! We're going to need her for the rest of our life." You giggled at his words "no! Don't say these things to him! I don't want him to think that his mom doesn't love him! You know they feel things right?" You pressed your lips together, "Alright! Alright! But how do you know it's a boy?" "I know it. I feel him." You smiled placing your hand on his, closing your eyes. Martin groaned kissing the side of your belly that was left uncovered with your shirt. "I love you so much! five month and you'll be here forever!" He said pushing himself up to reach your face, cupping your cheek with his hand. "I love you Y/N! And this is, this is the best gift, the best blessing i could ask for." You smiles and blushed at his words, slowly opening your eyes to see him. "I love you too! You're going to be the best dad Martin." You said kissing him on the lips softly.

#rodrigo de la serna #palermo #lcdp palermo #martin berrote #martin berrote one shot #martin berrote x reader #palermo x reader #lcdp one shot #la casa de papel #money heist #lcdp x reader

[darthgloris]

SNAP (Alicia Sierra x fem!reader)

A/N: I got this really cute idea for an Alicia Sierra fic and I just can't get it out of my head so I have to start writing it or I won't be at peace-

Song: SNAP - Rosa Linn (the three dots will be in red when you should start the song)

Warnings: childbirth, violence, heartbreak, fluff, SPOILERS

Summary: During the Bank of Spain heist, Y/N a.k.a. Varsòvia sees her ex-girlfriend Alicia Sierra again and the heartbreak comes back to her.

Pairing(s): Alicia Sierra x reader, Palermo x reader (platonic)

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I got into the heist game for the second time with the idea that it was going to be clean: get in, get the gold, get out, saving Rio in the process. No casualties, no personal feelings, no strings attached.

Boy, was I wrong.

I was good friends with Palermo, he was fun and easy to talk to. We didn't have much in common until one subject came up: gay woes. It was quick to figure out each other's sexualities, I could see the way he'd look at Berlín and he noticed how I'd make eyes at Rio or Nairobi every once in a while. The real emotional connection came when we shared our most painful moments.

...

"Palermo", I called his name and sat next to him, my legs dangling over the brick wall he was sitting on. "Are you okay?"

"Yes, Varsòvia, I'm fine." He replied, hoping that I would drop it, but I could see the hurt behind his eyes.

"No, you're not fine, cariño. I can hear you at night, screaming and crying and drinking yourself numb. That's not 'fine'." I argued, although trying not to force him.

"Okay, señora Holmes, I'm not fine." He replied mockingly.

"Tell me what's going on." I rested my hand on his and gave him a comforting smile.

He let out a sad sigh and waited a few moments before speaking. "Before Berlín left for the first heist, he confronted me about my feelings for him. He said that he loved me too, that we were 99% soulmates, but he refused to get together. I asked him what was 1% against 99, and he still told me no. I pushed him a bit to try it and we kissed. Then he pushed me against the wall and kissed me again, but when he pulled away he broke my heart, put his hat on and left. I was leaning on the wall, crying, and I just couldn’t take it. I couldn’t take the pain. I cried all my tears out, screamed, drank, and fell asleep. It was a vicious cycle that continued for months, that still goes on."

I gave him a side hug and he rested his head on my shoulder. "I'm so sorry, honey. I really am."

"Thanks. You know, you're a really good listener," he pointed out.

"Well, I don’t talk much, so," I replied.

"And what about you? What was your worst heartbreak?" He asked.

I bit my lip as I remembered the most painful breakup of my life. How I'd cry myself to sleep, hoping she'd come back to me. I wondered how she was now, what kind of life she was leading; I desperately wanted to know if she was happy, if she got what she was looking for that she didn't find in me, if she got what she deserved.

"Alicia Sierra. She was everything I wasn't: loud, confident, dominating. On the outside, she seemed like a real son of a bitch, but when we were alone she'd turn into the sweetest thing."

"Was she pretty?"

"Oh, she was the eight wonder of the world," I smiled softly. "Long red hair, pale skin, freckles, beautiful smile, green eyes... you'd look in those eyes and fall under her spell. She was the doe that was more cunning than the fox itself."

"What happened?"

"June 22nd, 2015. She broke up with me, she didn't even give an explanation. You have no idea of how much I loved her, Palermo. She was the most important thing in my life, I treated her as if she was made of glass, I gave her my beating heart on a platter and she just... threw it away. I stopped eating and drinking for days, I couldn’t sleep, it was as if time was passing by and I was still blocked in that moment." I swallowed the lump in my throat and I felt Palermo's hand rubbing circles on my back.

...

When I found out that the leading inspector was Alicia, I was so shocked I could barely even speak. After all those years of longing for the doe-eyed beauty, I found myself having to be on her opposite side, shooting her men, deceiving her boss, playing against her. And pregnant, no less.

I had looked through the window that day, where she gazed up at me with her twinkling eyes and tantalising soft smile which never failed to weaken my knees. I had found it in myself to smile back, tearing up slightly. I turned away from the window so that she wouldn't see.

God, how I missed her. And she looked so beautiful, all dolled up. She really was the eighth wonder of the world, the fucking Princess Diana of the 2020's. How stupid I was for letting her go, for letting her leave with no explanation. If only I had known, I would have hugged her and never let her go; I would have kissed her until my lungs were on the brink of giving out.

They say that you never stop loving someone, no matter how bad they hurt you. That the strong feelings you have for a person are destined to fade over time, but never to pass entirely.

I thought I had gotten over Alicia years ago, that she didn't matter to me anymore, that I had moved on. The truth was that my feelings for her had faded, but not disappeared, as our "encounter" had demonstrated. When I closed my eyes I could still picture her arms around my waist as we watched a movie cuddled up on the couch. Alicia had hurt me, she had ripped my heart out with no explanation, and that was unforgivable, but now it didn’t matter: she was right under my nose once again. Overworked, pregnant and widowed.

I didn’t just want her back, I needed her back, and I needed her now.

...

Banco de España - current day

"I told you I'd kill you."

The single shot boomed through the room and Nairobi dropped to the ground with a bullet wound on her forehead.

"NAIROBI!" I yelled and ran over to her. My vision clouded with tears and I clutched her to me while she bled out. I sobbed and sobbed, hurting my throat, but that was the last of my concerns.

Nairobi was gone, and so were the last bits of hope I still had.

"Nairobi..." I whined. "I'm sorry, sweetness... I-I promised... I promised you I'd keep you safe, I'd keep you alive and I failed you..."

Palermo had to pry me off her to take her away. I tried to get out of his strong grip but failed, until I stopped fighting and let him hug me. He squeezed me tightly to his chest and started crying as well.

"I'm going to kill Gandìa... I'm going to find the bastard and fucking gut him... that's a promise I intend to keep..." I said, the tremble in my voice betraying my words. Palermo held me tighter and stroked my head in an attempt to comfort me.

"I know, cariño, I know, shh... I'm here, I'm here..." He shushed soothingly.

"Gandìa, hijo de la gran puta!"

...

The moonlight passed through the hole the sniper bullet created when Nairobi was shot.

I checked my watch: it read 4:00 a.m. As I looked through the window I tried to picture Alicia standing there, smiling up at me just like she used to when we were together; those were a few of the best years of my life. I remembered how I used to comfort her after she had a nightmare, when I wrapped my arms around her waist and combed through her fringe with my fingers to calm her as she nuzzled into my neck.

Months after the breakup, I'd tell my friends and family about it and they'd just reply with "just let her go", or "she wasn't good enough for you", or even "move on, just snap your fingers". I knew that all I needed was time, but they couldn't understand that, they couldn't understand that Alicia was the love of my life, that she was probably the only person that I could say that about.

I tried what they told me: I snapped my fingers once, twice; nothing. She was still in my heart, and there was nothing I could do about it. Three, four times: I thought I didn’t need her anymore, but she wasn't going to stop meaning something to me any sooner.

I bit my lip as I looked at the police tent and thought about the pain I went through. Countless of hours in the rain, as if freezing myself to the bone would have changed anything. I didn’t want that to happen again, but maybe it didn't have to: if I could just figure out why she left me I could work on it.

And right then and there, a single idea occupied my mind.

A crazy one.

I found a rope in the room and used it to slowly and silently drop myself out of the bank. I started taking long, fast steps towards the tent, when the reality switch turned: I was a robber and Alicia was the inspector, there was no point in her being happy to see me again if she was forced to arrest me immediately.

So I turned away from the Bank and walked in the direction that would take me to the stormwater tank.

...

A few days later

My rain boots splashed through the water on the floor of the stormwater tank as I took quick steps towards the door, excited to see the Professor again. I opened the door slowly and stepped inside. Behind the entrance, a gun cocked. "Jaque mate, hijo de puta," I heard and my breathing quickened. Who the hell was that?

My instincts immediately responded: I pulled my gun out of my pocket, cocked it and stormed into the room, pointing it at the woman's head. She immediately spun on her heels, her long red hair fluttering in the process, and pointed her own weapon at me.

When I recognised her face, my hands stopped functioning and my gun fell to the ground; my knees felt like they were about to crumple and my body started trembling.

Alicia. Alicia Sierra.

She was back, she was in front of me right now.

"A-Alicia..?" I breathed out, swallowing the lump in my throat. "Joder, realmente eres tú..."

"Si, realmente soy yo, Y/N," She smiled softly.

It took every ounce of energy in me to not jump into her arms, because of the baby and of the time we've been apart; I wasn't sure how she was going to take a hug from me right now.

"How, um-" I cleared my throat. "How's the baby?"

"It's okay. I just... hope it gets to meet you soon." She said. I felt my heart swell at the words, and for some miracle, my legs still didn't give out. The dominant and confident energy she emitted made me almost trip over my own feet while I tried to walk to the bathroom, my breath shaking.

I knew she was going to be focused on interrogating the Professor so I closed the door and let out long, unsteady breaths, crying silently. I didn't want her to see me cry, not just yet. I didn’t know how much time had passed, but I didn’t care. I was tired enough to fall asleep on the floor.

...

I woke up and my ears were met with pained moans and screams.

Alicia.

I immediately perked up and rushed out of the bathroom, the door slamming against the wall, startling everyone in the room. Benjamin, the Professor and Marseille were all tied up, but I was able to brush past that.

The love of my life was about to give birth, and she was about to do it alone.

I couldn’t let that happen.

"Alicia!" I said and ran over to her. "Ali, what the hell are you doing?"

"I-" She screamed in pain. "I have to give birth to this kid..."

"Hey, hey, hey, it's okay, breathe with me," I knelt down next to her and she looked me in the eyes as she tried to follow my breathing pattern. She was extremely sweaty and her hair was stuck to her forehead, but to me, she still looked divine. I found the courage to dry her face with my sleeve, and her gaze was still fixated on me, only her eyes softened at my gesture.

"Let me help you," I offered gently.

"No, I can do this," she argued.

"What if there are complications? What will you do then?"

"Screw complications, Y/N, I'm fine."

"Damn it, Sierra, why are you so stubborn?! Just let me help you!"

She sighed in defeat. "You're not letting this go, are you?"

"Well, you know me," I slightly tilted my head and smiled at her. She smiled back at me, chuckling softly. That certainly classified as a victory.

I walked her through the process: I hated to see her in pain, so I did my best to make this easy on her. It surprised me how comfortable she was at my touch, I thought she was going to be distrusting, like she was when we first met. That was the second victory.

She started pushing and the screams were getting worse; I felt like crying, wishing that there was anything I could do to ease her pain, to make her feel better. Unfortunately, there wasn't, so I needed to stay strong and comfort her instead.

"Shit, the baby's breech," I cursed.

"I'm guessing that med school pulled through." She said, straining. It astounded me how in the middle of one one of the most painful moments of a woman's life, she'd still act confident and plaster that annoyingly charming smirk on her face.

"You two know each other?" Professor asked.

"Yeah, no shit, Sherlock," I replied sarcastically.

He rolled his eyes, but his curiosity didn't back down. "How do you know each other?"

I sighed, "Well, if you must know, she's my ex-girlfriend." I replied, trying to focus on pulling out the baby safely.

"Varsòvia, why didn’t you tell me?"

"It wasn’t important."

"How is it not important? You have a direct emotional connection with the leading inspector of the heist, of course it's important!"

"I'm a little busy here, can I ignore you some other time?"

I pulled the baby out and carefully wrapped her in a towel, her cries mixing with Alicia's heavy breaths. I gently put the baby in her arms and leaned my head on hers, sighing out of relief.

Alicia nuzzled into me and looked up at me, smiling. "Thank you."

I smiled back and ran my fingers through her red hair. "Don't mention it."

...

A lot of messed up shit later

The Professor, Alicia and I managed to escape the police's martial law. For now.

The apartment was empty, except for the delightful company of a ginger cat, who happened to be the friendliest I had ever met. Right now, it was cuddled up on the couch with Alicia, a sight that made me smile softly. The Professor went on the hunt for mobiles, anything with a signal, while I checked on little Victoria once again.

When the little girl caught sight of me, she gurgled. I smiled sweetly at her. "Hey, Victoria. Maybe when you'll be big you won't remember all of this chaos, and amen to that. You wouldn't want to remember if you had any idea of what's going. Trust me, your mommy is crazy enough to tell you all about this once you'll be old enough," I chuckled. "She might be crazy enough to tell you about me. I was your mommy's girlfriend, you know? And I loved her, very much, just like you do. I still love her. I guess this is a shitty timing, isn't it? In the middle of the fucking heist, where she was supposed to turn us in ages ago, I'm in love with her as if on the moment I laid eyes on her. That might just be because I'm not strong enough to let things go, I find good things in my life and desperately cling onto them until I make them sick and they leave me for good. Because that's what happened, honey. Sometimes heartbreak is just too much and you're so bent down under it you become stupid enough to get completely away from society and grieve on your own, you know?" A few tears silently flowed down my cheeks and I sniffled. "Of course you don't know. Look at me, I'm so screwed up that I'm unloading my emotional baggage on a day-old baby," I cried softly, burying my face in my hands. "Oh, thank God you don't understand a single word of what I'm saying because this would be the best thing to blackmail me for."

"You were never good with kids," her voice spoke behind me and I froze in place. I couldn’t find the courage to face her, so I took deep breaths until I spun on my heels slowly.

"Well, I'm shit with people in general," I countered, making her chuckle again. "How much of that did you hear?"

"About all of it."

"Joder," I sighed and hid my face in my hands out of embarrassment, blushing furiously.

Alicia stepped closer to me and gently pulled my hands away from my face, drying my falling tears while smiling softly.

"Hey, it's okay, it's okay. You didn't make anybody sick, honey. It wasn’t your problem, it was mine. I was young and stupid and scared of what could happen next and I treated you like trash in the process. Don't blame yourself for the shit I did, okay?"

I nodded in response and shakily breathed out. "I-I'm sorry... you weren't supposed to hear any of that and I'm sorry-"

"Sweetness, do you remember what I used to tell you about the apologising?"

"Sorry..."

She rolled her eyes, but her smile betrayed her action.

"You're sorry for what? For loving me? There's nothing wrong with that, and it's not in your control."

"It's okay if you have feelings for me. It's normal, and it's beautiful of you. I think you're an attractive woman as well, and I like you, and you like me. There's nothing wrong with that, the heart wants what it wants." That was what she said to me when I first told her I liked her. I remember I had little to no experience with same-sex relationships and until then had been faced with either rejection or lack of empathy or both, all of this affection and understanding had made me feel appreciated.

"I know, I just-" She cut me off with a loving, passionate kiss.

"Honey, shush," she chuckled. "I love you, too."

My eyes filled with tears again and I kissed her once more, caressing her face sweetly.

...

After the end of the heist

The walk from the helicopter to the gang was the most heartfelt moment ever.

For some miracle, we got out alive, thank God the Professor always had a backup plan. Unfortunately, not all of us made it. Oslo, Moskù, Berlín, sweet Nairobi and Tokyo were all left behind in the two heists. I would never forgive myself for what happened to them, for not saving them, none of us ever would. But what was important was that we made it, although not together as we thought, to the end of the heist.

The first person I hugged was Palermo: I leapt into his arms and wrapped my legs around his waist while he supported me with his hands. The love I felt for Palermo was completely platonic, given both our sexualities, but he was one of the most important people to me in the gang. He was my best friend, my safe haven, my protector, my genius.

"We did it, Palermo," I sniffled.

He wiped the falling tears from my face. "We did it, sweetheart."

After him, I embraced the happy couple, Sergio and Raquel. I congratulated the two for their engagement, earning a sweet "thank you" from both. "And thank you, Sergio, for this." I said sincerely, smiling and pecking his cheek. He smiled back and I hugged Raquel, who silently cried in my arms, sad to say goodbye.

Then came Rio. I hugged the kid so hard, I was surprised he wasn't out of air. I cried in his shoulder and he squeezed me with the same force. "I'm so sorry I couldn't save Tokyo," I said from the bottom of my heart. "Don't blame yourself, Varsòvia. It wasn’t your fault." I held his face in my hands and kissed his cheek as he cried harder and buried his own face in my shoulder.

I gave a brief hug to everyone else, wiping their tears and rubbing their backs. I was going to miss the gang, the group of people that opened a new chapter in my life, the best friends I'd ever had.

A car pulled up outside; the door opened and a flash of red came out. My eyes immediately lit up: Alicia was here with us. I rushed towards her and tackled her in a hug, to which she chuckled and hugged back with the same strength. She pressed out foreheads together and I let out a sigh of content, happy to finally be in her arms again.

She said her goodbyes to Sergio and Raquel, giving an embrace to the former and a handshake to the latter. He handed her her new identity with a smile, "There's one for Victoria as well." She thanked him and approached the car. I looked at her like a sad puppy, not knowing what to do. Should I go after her or stay with the gang?

I looked at Palermo for advice: he just nodded his head towards Alicia. "Go on," he encouraged, smiling. I gazed back at Alicia, admiring her green doe eyes and tantalising smile and rushed back to Palermo, giving him one last squeeze.

"Don't hesitate, honey," he advised. "You two are clearly meant to be."

"Thank you," I cried. "I'm going to miss you so much."

"Me too, Varsòvia, me too. Now go on, don't keep your lady waiting."

I smiled at him and caught Alicia's wrist before she could open the door to the car. She looked at me in surprise and I slammed my lips on hers, cupping her cheek as I brought her closer to me. The gang whooped and cheered as we kissed and she pulled me to the car. While she talked to the Professor, Palermo caught my gaze and gave me a knowing wink, making me blush slightly and grin at him again.

I waved goodbye to the gang as Alicia started driving off.

"So, where are we off to?" I asked her.

She rested her hand on mine, smiling at me. "Wherever we want, honey."

There was a moment of silence between us, a completely comfortable pause. It was one of the things I loved about being with her: the silence between us was never uncomfortable.

"You look beautiful." I blurted out, regretting it at first.

She chuckled, "Thanks. You used to say that a lot when we were together."

"Because it's true. And I will continue to say it forever."

"Forever? That's how long you're willing to stay with me?" She teased.

"With you and Victoria? I'd spend all my time with you two, no questions asked."

She smiled, moved, and surprised at how I turned her tease around into a sweet moment.

"I love you so much, Y/N."

"I love you, too."

#Spotify #alicia sierra x reader #lcdp #money heist #songfic #palermo x reader #la casa de papel #alicia sierra #palermo

[kimhargreeves]

Your Lack of Love-Berlin x Reader x Palermo

Inspired from the song from Mon Lafertea singer from Chile "Tu Falta de Querer" or in English "Your Lack of Love". I'll write more song inspired ones, anyways enjoy.

🌹🌷🌹🌷🌹🌷🌹

I laughed and smiled twirling around to the music and a pair of arms reached and grabbed me holding me close. My eyes lit up when I saw Andrés looking down at me as we gently swayed to the music playing in the background.

"Having fun my dear?"

"Now that you're here." I admit and see he gives me that mischievous smirk of his. Today is his wedding day. He finally got married like he always to..even if it isn't his first time.

"Careful now, my wife might hear you." He teases and we look back and we his bride dancing with Martín who is drink again but he looks happy.

"I see no problem with that." The drunk said catching up to us and we stopped dancing to see what else he had to say. "I say we have a foursome."

I choked on my wine and saw the taller man smirk at us. "I don't see anything wrong with that." I laugh and nudged his shoulder.

Andrés have us both a look and went over to his wife. Martín grabbed my hand and pulled me in to dance with him now.

I adored these two men and did everything they asked and ordered me to. I saw nothing wrong with our strange relationship at first, neither of us would talk about this with others or call in love.

We remained having a polyamorous relationship every now and then. We took it as a joke when outside of it but things were slowly changing, for me at least.

I had no problem going on with this but slowly I felt bad for Tatiana since she had no knowledge of this. The night of their honeymoon, Andrés came over and we resumed our odd relationship.

I stared up at the ceiling and felt weird with myself. Andrés was sleeping on my right and Martín to my left. I hugged the sheets closer to me and these feelings inside me kept growing.

Both men had trouble with their previous relationships and were always seen together, it made me question wether Andrés' new relationship would last this time.

************

I stayed silent in my spot and glanced back up to see the three of them enjoying breakfast. This feels strange to me now and I'm having second thoughts on us.

'Today I went back to sleep in our bed, and everything remains the same. The air and our cats. Nothing will change. Hard to forget you being here.

I still love you and I think that even more than yesterday. I feel mutilated and so small.'

Time past by and we were slowly falling apart. This whole plan had gotten to their heads. It was about 2 in the morning and both men were working and figuring out how to enter this bank they wanted to rob.

"Everything alright?" I quietly asked when they both fell silent and tiredly stared down at their work.

"Yeah..we just need some fresh air." Martín tiredly said sitting down next to me, he moved my hair to the side and gripped my throat and slowly started to kiss my neck.

I fought back a moan and reached my hand up to grip his wrist, trying to stop him but failed when he pulled me closer and slowly began to unbutton my shirt.

Andrés came over to us and slowly I felt his hands move down to my pants. I closed my eyes shut and felt myself blush, I want them but I can't, no more, not like this.

"Martín..Andrés..stop." They didn't listen they continued to play with me and I had enough. I repeated my words but shouted at them this time and moved away from both men who seemed surprised despite the lust they had in their eyes seconds ago.

I fixed my clothes and looked between them and felt my heart go heavy. "This has to stop." Martín laughed at this and slowly got up from his seat.

"You agreed to this remember?"

I then began to shiver and breath heavily. "Are you okay?" He asked seeing my state and I shook my head and stepped back when he got closer to me.

"Don't touch me..I can't keep on with this." I pause and looked at them confused. "Our relationship is a fraud..we agreed to help each other with our needs but I can't go in not like this."

They stayed silent looking intently at me. Martín looked confused and Andrés showed no emotion.

"I had no problem with it at first, but I broke the rules. How can I not? I'm human..I need love not just a quick fuck. That's not me anymore, I love you both. I love how intimate we have become but there's no emotion or passion behind it, it's all a game isn't it? Please tell me it is because I truly love and care about you both."

Andrés looks away upset I can tell. His hands are slowly shaking and his jaw is clenched. "What would Tatiana think of us-"

"Don't you fucking mention her." He mutters getting angry at me. Why is he talking to me like that? In all our time together he never cursed at me.

"So what if I do?" I finally speak and glare at him. "This is fucked up and you know it. You wanted this as much as I. I truly thought you loved me back-"

"Well I don't." He sincerely says and shrugs his shoulder and looks down at me with a wicked smile and chuckled at my reaction.

I feel my heavy tears running down my face, without blinking I keep my eyes on his and his expression doesnt change.

"I never did. We just needed each other for one reason only." I steppe closer and raised my fist to punch him but Martín ran to my side and stepped between us both.

"Let me punch him!" I scream not caring if someone outside might hear us arguing at 2 am.

"Do you seriously want to do this? I expected more from you." Martín says my name and stared at me and he also smiled like Andrés.

I slowly let my hand fall down and felt heartbroken when they both smiled at me. "You both agree to this? You never loved me did you?" I ask afraid of their answer.

I wiped my tears angrily and began to shout at them both. "After all we have been through! All those years planning together meant nothing to you both?!"

I hold my chest and feel in heavy yet empty at the same time. "And you agree to this? He just confessed he used us for one thing!" I scream at Martín but before I could say anything else he pressed me against the wall and tightly held my hair.

Andrés stepped closer with a smile and ran his finger down my cheek and wiped my tears. "It's a shame it had to come to this. We truly enjoyed your company while it lasted."

Martín said nothing and slowly let's go of me when Andrés told him.

'Come and tell me the truth Be merciful and tell me why, How did you stop loving me. I could not bear your lack of love.

A month ago I used to listen to you and be your accomplice I thought there was no one else but you, I was your friend and I was your partner.'

I fell to the ground and continued to cry. "We no longer need you, we'll do this heist without you." I heard Andrés tell me not caring about me anymore.

Martín stayed silent by his side but he genuinely looked worried about me for a second. I held my legs together and didn't dare to look at them, they left the room and left me alone.

They always lacked love, why am I surprised by this just now? I never meant nothing to them now they shouldn't to me.

3 years later after I left Italy that I heard the heist was successful. Sergio was behind the operation with his brother, Martín didn't join them this time.

The heist was a success and they got all the money but three people died on that mission, one of them was Andrés. I got a letter from him and I held it in my hands, the envelope was sealed and my hands were shaking.

I huffed our angrily sitting on my bed and I threw the letter away. After all this time he decided to send me a letter before his death.

Sergio is a lucky one, good thing he at least survived because of his arrogant brother. The phone continue ringing and I paid no mind to it, Sergio has been calling me nonstop. There is no way I am going back and answer him.

The closest ones are always the one who harm you the most. I wiped my tears away and hid my face against the pillow and continued to hear the phone ring.

#money heist #la casa de papel #la casa de papel imagine #berlin x reader #palermo x reader #berlin x reader x palermo #andres de fonollosa #martin berrote #money heist x reader #the professor #sergio marquina

[depressopax]

Dating Nairobi would include...

Pairing: Nairobi x gn!reader (La casa de papel/money heist) Genre: Smut, fluff, headcanons Warning(s): NSFW content below

SFW

It was love at first sight. 

She saw you, and instantly fell in love.

…And it didn’t take long until you fell for her, too.

She knew she liked you, and wanted to be quick and make your hers, before someone else got the chance

She is a “criminal” after all. 

She loves you dearly and she hates the thought of you getting involved in dangerous situations.

At first, she would try to hide her criminal past for you, scared that you might judge her or leave her.

Nairobi is a very honest person. So after some time, she felt the urge to tell you everything.

She has trust issues, so if she decides to tell you about her past… She really loves and trusts you.

She hates keeping secrets from someone she loves. 

After telling you, you’d have to reassure her that it’s ok and that you still love her. 

She would also tell you about Axel, and how she lost her son

Nairobi’s dream is to go to the Canary Islands and find her son, and then start over in another country, just the three of you.

She wants a calm and normal life together with you.

She definitely wants a big happy family, and wants to have kids with you.

Doesn’t matter if you have a kid or adopt one, she just wants kids together with the person she loves.

SO overprotective.

Nairobi would keep you out of trouble. Her first priority is keeping you safe.

If someone messes with you? Oh boy…

Nairobi can be scary when she’s mad.

She’s not afraid to get into fights to defend her partner.

LOVES PDA. 

She wants to show the whole work you’re hers. 

In public, she would grab you by the waist and pull you close, have her arm around your shoulders etc…

Of course she’d respect it if you didn’t like PDA, but she loves seeing you flustered and would kiss you when people are watching just to see you flustered.

Her love language is touch. 

She just can’t keep her hands off you.

When cuddling/sleeping, she likes to be the big spoon. She wants to be able to hold you and protect you, even when sleeping. Feeling your warm body pressed against hers. It’s comforting for her. 

Nairobi loves sharing clothes with you.

Once you’re together with her, you practically share a closet. She loves wearing your clothes (and she makes it look stylish, even if it is the most basic shirt ever). Seeing you in her clothes is her favourite thing. She thinks you’re so damn adorable!

She would brag about you to everyone, and is not afraid to show affection. 

She would legit treat you like a royal. <3

Not scared to express her love for you. (Like she told Palermo: “You need courage to love”)

When Nairobi falls in love, she falls hard. 

There’s just something special about you that makes you irresistible. 

NSFW

She’s a top. Y’all can’t change my mind.

The thought of her lover being submissive is a turn on.

She’s a tease… 

Nairobi loves driving you crazy using her hands, in simple ways…

For example: Kneading your thighs and avoiding sensitive areas until you beg her to continue and touch other spots… 

She is experimental and open to trying new things, especially if you suggest it. As long as it’s nothing “too crazy” or dangerous. 

She’s a top, so she prefers positions where you are under her, and where she can see your face and all your reactions.

If you’re dominant too, she’d let you top her sometimes.. But she would make sure you don’t forget she’s the one in charge ;)

Neck kisses <3 

After love-making, you will be covered in hickeys, especially on your neck. 

She would enjoy watching you try to cover up the hickeys before leaving the house

And definitely would make you wear a t-shirt or tank top that exposes your neck. She wants everyone to know you’re taken.

In bed, she’s either really slow and loving, or rough and passionate. 

Overstimulation >>>>

If she’s in the mood, she will only stop pleasuring you once you’re crying, whimpering or begging her for a break. 

Nairobi does like being dominant and rough, but will always listen to your needs.

She would NEVER do something you're uncomfortable with, or anything that could injure you.

PRAISE KINK

This woman just loves praising you. “You’re so good for me, y/n” “You can take it, darling… Make me proud.”

…But she’s not afraid to degrade you either, if you’re into that. She doesn’t like calling you degrading names, but in the heat of the moment, it can be a real turn on for her. 

AFTERCARE QUEEN <3

She would always make sure you’re ok after sex. Your comfort is her priority.

I just love Nairobi so much omg 😭 I'm so damn gay for her lmao ALSO I COULDN'T FIND ANY NAIROBI SMUTS SO HERE I AM 😼

#la casa de papel #alba flores #lcdp #money heist #lcdpedit #lcdp5 #la casa de papel x reader #la casa de papel smut #nairobi la casa de papel #nairobi money heist #agata jimenez #agata lcdp #lcdp smut #lcdp spoilers #la casa de papel nairobi #lcdp fandom #smut #fanfiction writer #creative writing #writing community #fanfic writing #fic writing #ao3 writer #x reader #fandom #gn!reader #headcanon

[alloftheimaginesblog]

Prompt: “I need you to work with me, not against me. We want the same thing.”

Character: Palermo x Reader 

Show: Money Heist/La Casa de Papel

Requested by anon

You’d known Palermo the longest, even longer than the Professor. You knew him well. You knew that he would betray even the closest of friends at any given moment; he was, essentially, a ticking time bomb. He was your friend, yes, and he would do anything for you but he wouldn’t think twice about double crossing you; that was just what he was like.

Palermo was close to breaking point, you knew it and so did everyone else, “You need to get him under control, Venice,” Tokyo growled at you, “You control him or I put him down.”

You rolled your eyes, “I’ll go talk to him.”

“I swear, if he doesn’t cooperate with us, I’ll put a bullet through his forehead. He’s the one that let Gandia out! He’s trying to kill us all!”

Ignoring Tokyo, you pushed past her and through into the room where Palermo was sitting, tied to a chair. He smiled at you, “Ah, I see they’ve finally sent you in to bring me round, hm?”

You sat on the table across from him, “What are you doing, Palermo? What’s your end goal here?”

“I just wanted to leave. Had you all let me leave, things would’ve been fine.”

“Look, I know you love a good plot twist, I know you love a good betrayal but you and I want the same thing. I need you to work with me, not against me. We want the same thing.” You sighed, “You’re my friend, one of my closest friends, and I know you’ll betray us all again,” he hummed in agreement, “but right now, I need you to work with me. You don’t have to work with them, just work with me, okay?”

He thought about it but stayed silent. 

“I won’t let them hurt you, I know you’re already hurt, but I need to know that you’re with me until this is all over and then you can do whatever to whoever.”

He finally nodded, “I work with you and the Professor. No one else... Now, will someone please untie me?”

#prompt #one shot #palermo x reader #palermo #money heist #la casa de papel #long prompt #written prompt

[agent-grey-fics]

Our little bubble - Denver | La casa de papel

I was pacing around the backyard while I was thinking about the situation I was in, well I was in with a whole gang. We had been hiding out in Toledo for a couple of months now. Our days consisted of lessons from El professor explaining the heist, what plan we had to follow when things went south and parties in the evening. It was weird to live with total strangers and become great friends on such a short notice. The moment I walked in the house I immediately had a great connection with Helsinki and Tokio, they were my kind of people and we just clicked. Tokio and I had a similar background and Helsinki was like a brother I never had. We were a triple threat and I would do everything for them, I was sure about that. The weeks passed by and we grew closer as a gang, learning about each other’s lives and why they were picked by El professor. Talking about El professor, one of his rules was ‘no hookups within the gang’ and let’s just say that I didn’t like this rule at all. When I walked into the house not only Tokio and Helsinki caught my eye, no. There was another person where I had this connection with, he drove me crazy and he knew it all too well. I climbed up the fire escape towards the roof, I knew he would be here. He was standing at the end of the rooftop, taking a drag from the cigarette that he was holding between his fingers. So careless. ‘Don’t fall,’ I laughed softly while I walked up to him. He looked over his shoulder and a smile appeared when he saw me. That boyish grin was going to kill me someday. He had this grin that could light up any room, it suited him. ‘Havana,’ He laughed while he brought the cigarette to his lips, ‘what a pleasant surprise.’ The smoke formed a big cloud above him when he exhaled and only then did I smell the weed. ‘Having a party on your own I see?’ While I spoke I walked up to him, sat down with my legs over the edge.

El profesor specifically told us to use our code names, everyone traided their own name for their favorite city. I fell in love with Havana a couple of years ago so I didn’t had to think twice about my name. The names were fun, you could become your villain alter ego and talk about your plans after the heist. ‘It’s always a party everywhere I go.’ He sat down next to me and held the joint towards me, ‘wanna join the party?’ His blue eyes pierced mine when he waited for my answer, that boyish grin still on his lips. Our hands touched when I took the cigarette, leaving a warm feeling like my skin was burning. Remember that I told you that I had a problem with El Professor’s rules? Well he was the reason. We had been sneaking around, stealing kisses when no one saw it and sleeping together. I couldn’t even count the times anymore that I snuck out of the room I shared with Tokio to crawl into bed next to Denver and Rio doing it the other way around. I took a hit from the joint he gave me, inhaling the smoke, he didn’t roll a strong one, which was nice. Denver and I had this instant click from the moment we met, it was sexual tension mostly but I really enjoyed his company and it was by far the best sex I ever had. That man knew his way around in the bedroom. But besides that, he was funny, not the smartest person in the world but he was oh so kind and loving. He thought that he was on the top of the world and that he was untouchable.

‘Do you think that we can pull this off?’ I gave him his cigarette back while I exhaled the smoke. ‘The heist you mean?’ He nodded and I really didn’t have a clue. ‘El professor has thought this through so I think that if we follow his plan that everything will work out and that we will be partying on an exotic Island in no time.’ We had to trust the guy who picked us up out of nowhere, it was such a weird day when he found me. This wasn’t the life I had imagined when I was a little girl, I was going to be a nurse in a big city somewhere halfway around the world married to the love of my life and maybe even a kid, who knows. But that changed quickly when I met Rafa. I was twenty when I first met him, he was twenty-four and promised me the world and he gave it to me. He took me places I never had been before, bought me gifts and showered me with affection. But I soon found out where it all came from. He was part of a street gang who called themselves the red dragons, it started as a joke back in the day but the group of four friends turned out to be an oiled machine when it came to robberies and burglary. It didn’t take long before I was enrolled in their system. Rafa and I were living like Bonnie and Clyde for the next five years but then the dream ended. A heist went wrong, three people died that day, and I became a murderer. I left the red dragons the day after, left Rafa and never looked back. That was a year ago and now I was sitting with another criminal on the roof of an old house in the middle of nowhere in Toledo. I didn’t even know his real name. Life could take weird turns when you weren’t looking.

‘Havana?’ Denver snapped with his fingers in front of my eyes and pulled me out of my daydream. ‘Mh?’ He had a concerned look on his face when I snapped back to reality. ‘You okay?’ I plastered a grin on my face. ‘Yeah yeah, I was just thinking about how I got in this exact spot. I mean El professor selected us all based on a skillset, I’m still wondering why he wanted me to join.’ He got a look of mischief in his eyes. ‘I don’t mind having you here, you won’t hear me complaining.’ I started laughing when he placed his hand on my knee. ‘Oh of course you don’t mind my presence, piss off.’ I punched him playfully against his shoulder and rolled my eyes. He laughed softly but kept his hand in place. ‘No but I’m wondering the same thing, I have no clue why he picked me but I don’t mind, I had to get away from my old life.’ He just shrugged his shoulders. I already knew why, Moscú made sure that his son got away from his life since he was in quite some money problems with some kind of mob back home. ‘I also love the tension and action around the whole idea, makes my life interesting.’ He was looking straight ahead of us, into the nothingness of the night. ‘This is one of the biggest things, no it would be the biggest thing I ever did in my life if we pull this off.’ He laughed at the idea of this actually working out. I placed my hand on top of his and rested my head against his shoulder. ‘I’ve done some crazy heists in the past but this would also be the biggest thing I’ve ever pulled off if it all turns out to be okay.’ We sat in silence for a minute, snippets of memories from my time with the Red Dragons flashed through my mind. If they knew I was part of this they would be excited, just because we were fucking the system and there was nothing that the government could do about it.

‘Oh boy if this works out and we have millions I would move to a sunny Island, a small town where they threw these amazing parties and we could party on the beach until the sun came up in the morning.’ He looked down towards me and I turned my head, I could see the sparkle in his eyes. I re-positioned myself, turning my body towards him and tucking one of my legs underneath me, so I could face him. ‘I would be living in paradise every day for the rest of my life.’ I had the same idea but I wondered if it would be enough for the rest of my life. ‘I had the same idea but I’m not sure if it would be enough for the rest of my life you know.’ I said with a smile on my face. ‘I’m still a woman, I don’t know if I could give up the dream I’ve of getting married, maybe having a kid and living with the love of my life somewhere in a big city.’ I fiddled with my fingers while I was talking, I was afraid that I would sound stupid. ‘I don’t know if I could just do nothing for the rest of my life and party on a beach every couple of days with some strangers I met on the island. Not that I don’t want to live in paradise, I’m just afraid that paradise would get boring at one point or another.’ I looked up to see him smiling at me. ‘Are you laughing at me?’. He lifted his hands as a defence. ‘No no, I get what you’re saying, I just didn’t think of it in the long run just for the first couple of years, maybe five or ten.’ Did he realize that we would be in our thirties by then? But then it struck me that he could be way younger than I thought. ‘Dude, how old are you?’ Having this conversation made me realize that we still didn’t know anything about each other, including our real names and age. He wiggled his eyebrows when he saw me thinking and a grin grew on his face. ‘Guess.’ I bit on my lower lip, please be older than twenty-three I was thinking to myself. A guy could be three years younger, that would be okay. ‘Twenty-four?’ I guessed and the grin on his face grew while he shook his head. ‘Twenty-three?’ He started Laughing. ‘Dude please don’t tell me you’re younger than twenty-three?’ He shook his head. ‘I turned twenty-five a couple of days before we came here.’ He laughed, ‘by the look on your face I’m guessing you’re around the same age as me?’. I nodded. ‘Twenty-six.’ ‘Oh damn, got me a cougar.’ His laughter echoed through the night and I rolled my eyes playfully. ‘ What can I say, I’ve always wanted a toyboy.’ I shrugged my shoulders while I gave him an innocent look.

‘This is so weird,’ I mumbled after we had been silent for a minute. ‘Look at us flirting and hooking up nonstop, Tokio and Rio are doing exactly the same thing and we don’t even know the basics about each other’s lives.’ I ran a hand through my hair. The whole heist situation made everything exciting and the sneaking around was so much fun but would we be doing this if we just met in a bar? I thought about this quite a lot actually. His expression changed and he got a loving look in his eyes while he held his hand out.

‘Ricardo Ramos.’ My jaw dropped when I realized what he was doing.’No no no Denver shut up, I can rat you out if you tell me all of this.’ I slightly panicked when he kept talking. ‘My friends and family call me Daniel or Dani.’ ‘What the hell are you doing?’ I asked him while I looked at him with wide eyes, grabbing his hand with both of mine. Oh god, this was against all of El professor’s rules. ‘If I would have seen you in a club for the first time instead of here I would have made sure that I took you home that night, no doubt about that.’ His eyes had this look of mischief in them and he winked at me, he was so cheeky. Unbelievable. ‘I want you to know who I am outside of our little bubble.’ I nodded. ‘I live in a suburb of Malaga and I used to work in a garage as a mechanic before I became a thief.’ His blue eyes pierced mine while he was talking, he caught me off guard by doing this and I didn’t know what to say. ‘Are you going to tell me who you are or did I just do this all for nothing?’ A soft chuckle left my lips. ‘I’m y/n,’ I said after a couple of seconds, ‘y/n y/l/n, my friends used to call me y/n/n. I grew up in Olvera, it’s a small place in the southern part of the country not far from Malaga actually, by car it’s like an hour and a half I think. I moved to Cadiz to attend University but that didn’t go according to plan.’ He had a smile on his face while I was talking. ‘I was planning on becoming a nurse but then I met this guy, Raphaël, and I became part of a street gang and one thing let to another and now I’m here, sitting with you on a rooftop in the middle of nowhere ignoring rule number one of the guy who’s teaching us how to rob the Royal Mint of Spain.’ He laughed while he placed his hand on my cheek. The silver ring on his middle finger was cold, pressing to my cheek. ‘Y/n y/l/n from Olvera? Small world.’ Without saying anything else he pressed his lips on mine. We both didn’t know what this thing was between the two of us but it was enough for now.

#La casa de papel #money heist #Denver #Tokio #el profesor #Moscu #Nairobi #Bogotta #helsinki #Palermo #Berlin #Estocolmo #Rio #Denver x reader #La casa de papel x reader #Denver casa de papel x reader

[the-acid-pear]

Goddd i miss reading fanfic so much

#IM GONNA MAKE THIS PERSON I HATE HOLD MY DICK WHILE I PEE #luly talks #prison break fanfics were legitimately SO FUCKING FUNNT #they were full of gems #then i read many vikings fanfics but i didn't like those as much #me saying i didnt want to fuck ivar was a running gag with my bf for a while #bc there were so many ivar x reader fics. SO MANY. #and then i read money heist fics and they were... fine #kinda bad idk man they were just that #never a fan of berlin nor palermo so #they just felt unnatural #BUT UNNATURAL IN THW BAD WAY NOT IN THE WAY #YOU GUYS I CANNOT STRESS ENOUGH HOW FUCKING GOD PRISON BREAK FANFICS WERE #man i miss watching thta show............

[thecoffeelovingfreak]

Secondo

Chapter 5 of The Wrath of the Lamb

Pairing: Hannibal!Fyodor x gn!Will!Reader

Genres: horror, angst, psychological thriller, splash of comedy

Word count: 4.7k (there is a cut)

Warnings: death, blood, murder, graphic depictions of murder, desecration of a human corpse, imprisonment, torture, alcohol, minor character death, cannibalism

Notes: I've included English translations in smaller text underneath the Italian dialogue!

Reference Images

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~~~

There was a buzz in the air as you entered the Cappella Palatina in Palermo. The Fatimid arches mixed with Byzantine mosaics and Norman architectural influences created a holy expanse, displaying astonishing elegance and color. You felt a certain serenity in the chapel, along with the essence of Fyodor.

Your physical healing process had taken many months, and during that time your grief hit a high. When you were more able-bodied, you began doing research and trying to piece together Fyodor’s location to work it off. During that time, you recalled the conversation you had with Fyodor the night before the bloodbath.

“The foyer is the Norman Chapel in Palermo.”

“If I am ever apprehended, my memory palace will serve as more than a mnemonic system. I will live there.”

And that is how you pieced together his clues, and landed here at the chapel with a physically healed Fukuzawa and Yosano working back in Baltimore.

Even in an enlightened world we come here to feel closer to God. you thought, stepping further into the divine building.

You calmly approached the apse, the priest watching you from his seat. You paused and looked down at the ‘single reminder of mortality’. A skull graven on the floor; you were standing in the foyer of Fyodor’s mind palace.

That night, blood streamed on the floor of his foyer. A human body, folded into the human heart, sat atop three swords. It was reminiscent of the Three of Swords tarot card; heartbreak, loneliness, and grief.

By the next morning, a large square shade that read Polizia Scientifica followed by Vietato Entrare hid the body from view as investigators analyzed the scene. You stood in the entryway, watching another investigator interview the priest among the chaos. The priest pointed to you and the investigator’s eyes followed. A nearby police officer held up his hand to stop you from walking in further.

“Per favore, smettila, è proibito stare qui.” he said with a worried tone.

"Please stop, it is forbidden to be here."

The investigator stopped him, walking over to the two of you. “Non farli uscire, voglio parlare con loro.”

"Don't let them out, I want to talk to them."

“What did he say?” you asked.

“He said he wants to talk to you.”  a voice spoke, slightly echoing through the chapel.

~

Sitting on a bench at the local questura, you heard a stern voice speak to your right, “Mx. L/n?”

Turning your head, you noticed a figure sitting on the bench next to you. He had short dark hair, and wore circular framed glasses. “Chief Investigator Ango Sakaguchi. Questura di Firenze.”

“You’re a long way from Florence.” you said quietly.

“You’re a long way from Baltimore.” he reciprocated.

You turned your head in his direction as he continued speaking.

“I research everything I can on the FBI. I read all about your trial.”

“Keep researching. I was acquitted.” you responded, turning your head away from him.

He turned his body toward you and slightly leaned over. “You come to Palermo and very soon a body is discovered. The priest at the Cappella dei Normanni said you have been spending a lot of time there.”

“I have been praying.”

You stared at each other for a long moment, footsteps and chatter echoing through the building. Another investigator approached the bench where the two of you sat, asking you to come with him.

“Arrivederci.” Ango spoke.

"Goodbye."

~

The Chief Investigator advanced toward you as he saw you loosely walk down the stairs.

“Is Y/n L/n here because of the body, or is the body here because of Y/n L/n?” he teased.

“Why are you here?” you asked.

“I do what you do, Y/n. We share the gift of imagination.” he responded, tone almost sarcastic.

“I have scars from a man who grabbed his gift by the blade.” you stated, becoming faintly frustrated.

“You grabbed the wrong end.” the investigator jokes, to which you chuckled. “The moments when the truth is discovered, that is my greatest pleasure.”

“Knowing.” you said, turning your head back to him.

“Knowing.” he nodded, “Not feeling, not thinking. You know who murdered that man and left him in the cappella.”

“You should know too.” you said, walking to him with your hands in the pockets of your jacket.

“I met him 12 years ago. Il Demone di Firenze. It was his signature to arrange his victims like a painting. Il Demone created images that have stayed in my mind all this time. 12 years ago, I was dwelling on a couple found slain in the bed of a pickup truck in Impruneta.” he handed you one of the crime scene photos from the file in his hand. “Bodies placed garlanded with flowers…”

“Like a Botticelli.” you said, analyzing the photograph.

“Exactly like a Botticelli. His painting Primavera still hangs in the Uffizi Gallery in Florence, just as it did 12 years ago.” he handed you a photo of the painting. “The garlanded nymph, Chloris, to the right, and the blue robed figure in the trees, Zephyrus, all match.”

“The Uffizi Gallery – that is where you met Il Demone.”

“That’s where I met… this man.” he spoke, holding up a new photograph.

It was of a younger Fyodor, most likely in his late teenage years. His hair was slicked back, and he wore a black suit with a maroon tie. You took the vignetted photo from his hands.

“The Demon of Florence.” you whispered.

~

“I went to the Uffizi and stood before the original Primavera day after day, and most days I’d see a young Russian man as bewitched by the Botticelli as I was; as bewitched as I imagined Il Demone would be. And every day I saw him he would recreate the Primavera in pencil, just as he would do in flesh. That is when I knew. It was the best moment of my life, a moment of enlightenment that made me famous and then destroyed me. In haste and the heat of ambition, the Questura nearly demolished the young man’s home trying to find evidence.” Ango narrated as you stood in the chapel.

“Well… The Demon doesn’t leave evidence.” you said, walking toward the taped off space.

“He eats it.” you continued, putting on blue surgical gloves and lifting up the striped caution tape to officially enter the scene.

“Another man – certainly not an innocent man, but innocent of those crimes – was an ideal suspect. He was convicted on no evidence except for his demeanor.” Ango spoke, as you sat on the steps before the apse. 

“Blame never sticks to Fyodor Dostoyevsky.” you linked your hands together over your legs.

“It always sticks to you.” Ango handed you an orange clasp envelope and left the chapel.

As you took the pictures out of the envelope, you read the label sticker:

Questura di Palermo

Questo documento è di proprietà del dipartimento e devono essete considerati sensibili

Police Headquarters of Palermo

This document is the property of the department and should be considered sensitive

It also had various other bits of information, of which you glossed over.

As you set the crime scene photos on top of the envelope, unknown feelings passed through you. You knew this murder was a gift to you from Fyodor. A human cut and carved into a heart; placed atop three swords. You began to hear the heart beating, and you closed your eyes to immerse yourself in the scene. 

As you opened your eyes, you rose to approach the heart.

I splintered every bone, fractured them dynamically. Made you malleable. I skinned you, bent you, twisted you, and trimmed you; head, hands, arms, and legs. You chuckled. A topiary. 

You reached out your left hand, and placed it on the center of the heart. A valentine written on a broken man.

The heart began physically beating, and you walked backwards anticipating something to come. You stopped, and began shaking in fear as you watched Fyodor’s love for you morph into a hideous beast. The heart unraveled and grew hooves where its hands and legs should have been. Out of its neck grew large black antlers, reminiscent of your former hallucination, and it began walking toward you. With each step closer it got, you took another step back to the altar against the wall. You gasped as you tripped on the steps leading to said altar. As it got closer you heard a familiar voice shout your name. You opened your eyes and found yourself alone, however. No beast, no blood, no other presence besides your own.

I do feel closer to Fyodor here. You laughed. God only knows where I would be without him.

You removed your glasses and rubbed your eyes. He left me his broken heart. He may not have known I was here, but he knew I would come. You sighed as you reminded yourself of his mind. Fyodor follows several trains of thought at once without distraction from any – and one one of the trains is always for his own amusement. He’s toying with me, always.

You knew where you needed to go next, to play with him this time.

~

Fyodor and Sigma sat by the fire on dark couches with wine glasses in hand. A tall man with white braided hair and a dual-colored vest sprawled himself out on the couch opposite of Fyodor and Sigma, a glass of scotch in hand.

“Did Y/n enjoy your valentine?” the man asked.

“Yes, they did.” the dark haired man responded.

“What do you plan to do next, now that they are on their way to the castle?” Sigma questioned.

“I plan on letting Kolya deal with them.” he took a large sip of his wine.

Said man rose from his sprawled position, now sitting attentively. “Oh, I’m so excited to meet them!”

“Promise us you won’t kill them? We don’t need a repeat of the professor.'' Sigma joked.

“I don’t know how you remember the professor’s murder, Sigma, but you were the one that killed him.” Nikolai replied, finishing his glass of scotch. He rose from his seat as he said, “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to welcome the lovely Y/n to our castle.”

Fyodor and Sigma rose in turn to leave for the office, high up in one of the castle’s many towers.

~

You heard flocks of crows caw and fly away as you exited your car, looking in awe at the gates to Castle Dostoyevsky. Shutting the door to the vehicle, you tightened your long black coat over your body and walked to the gates. A large lock, decorated with thick chains held the gates closed, preventing you from entering the property. You walked along the fence line for a moment before deciding to jump it. The dead leaves crunched beneath your feet as you began your long trek through the woods to the castle.

The cold wind wailed as you continued walking through the monotone trees. An air of suspicion rose rapidly as you neared the castle grounds. Looking to your right, you noticed an odd paper-like object pinned to a tree. As you got closer, you realized it was a playing card. The Ace of Hearts. You took it off the tree and looked at it quizzically. Pocketing it, you continued on your journey.

A few minutes later, you saw another card which hung from a tree branch this time. The Two of Hearts. As you looked ahead, you spotted the Three of Hearts. As your gaze returned to the card in front of your face, you came to a realization.

I am in a game.

A raven came to land on the branch above you, looking down at you with its head tilted. Investigating its eyes, you felt a tingle down your spine. It flew to your right, and there you noticed a white coat fluttering in the wind. The raven was seated on the arm of a jester.

“Welcome to my game, Y/n.” he began, gracefully jumping from the tree. “Remember to follow your heart, and I hope to see you at the castle.”

Winking, he turned to walk forward and along the rest of the path. The raven flew in circles around his head as he disappeared from view. Your confusion dissipated and you remembered the jester’s mask from Fyodor’s old office, along with the letter.

It seems I have met Nikolai.

A small smile overtook your face as you grabbed the Three of Hearts card. You understood his riddle: remember to follow your heart. He wanted you to stay along the path he created with the Hearts suite. You continued through the wood and brush, climbing the small hills and gathering the cards.

Approaching a fork in the road, you met the raven once more. He sat perched on a log between the paths with a note tied to his leg. You reached to grab it, and the raven came to land on your shoulder.

A proposition for you:

Find the Queen, bask in life.

Find the King, bask in death.

- The Jack of Hearts ♡

The raven cawed in your ear, causing you to jump as it flew high away. 

At the beginning of the path to your left hung the Ten of Hearts, the next card you needed in the suite. However, the path to your right also held the Ten of Hearts. Your intuition led you down the left path.

The wind had settled down now, creating a murky atmosphere with the rising moon. There were no other cards along the path, leaving you to rely purely on instinct. You saw a large, seemingly empty space coming up along the path and jogged to it. There the moon shone freely upon a grisly scene.

A large fountain, not running with water, but rather snails, sat in the middle of the dead garden. The head of a blonde woman sat atop the angel's outstretched hand, looking out from above over the garden. Her limbs sat in the basin, and her organs in the tiers. On the edge of the basin rested her left arm, which held the Queen of Hearts. As you opened her hand to grab the card, a voice rang out through the garden.

“Congratulations! You have won my game!” Nikolai walked to you, placing his hat on your head and linking his arm in yours. “Now come in, any friend of Dostoy’s is a friend of mine.”

~

The dungeons of the castle were damp and moldy. Many candelabras and singular candles decorated the tables, casting a golden light into the vast space. It appeared that the wine cellar was also located in the dungeons, but behind a labelled door. The soft clanking of chains could be heard from the closest cell, along with whimpering. You walked over to the cell, looking at the man inside.

He was covered in filth. His long white hair now brown, and his face and body littered with scars and dirt.

“What did he do to get here?” you asked.

“I’m not sure myself. Fedya brought him back to the castle years ago, and only told me his name and how I was to deal with him.” he crossed his arms and joined you in front of the cell.

“And?”

“He wanted me to torture Shibusawa.”

“I imagine you had no qualms about that?”

“Of course not.”

He grabbed a bag by the cell, and opened the loud metal door, you following behind him.

“Come here Shibu.” he said in a singsong voice. 

The man whimpered again as Nikolai forcibly grabbed his chains, voice stern and flat. “Sit up.”

He dropped and opened the bag, pulling out several weapons. He chose a metal baton first. He tossed it in his hands before rapidly bringing it to Shibusawa’s torso, causing him to cry out in pain. He brought the baton down on the arm Shibusawa raised to defend himself, causing the arm to go limp.

He offered you the weapon with a cheerful and murderous look in his eyes. You denied it, to which he smirked.

Nikolai went back to the bag, grabbing a knife this time. He brought the knife down on the prisoner multiple times, blood spattering on the ground and on your bodies. When he was satisfied, he moved back to the bag, or so you thought. Instead, he turned to move behind you, his chest to your back and his arms encasing yours. He moved the knife from his left hand to yours, holding your hand to guide your movements.

“You do not need to deny these urges. To deny who you are. Have you learned nothing from Fyodor? There is no freedom in denial, but there is freedom in acceptance. Go ahead, Y/n. Attack him.” he whispered in your ear, before taking a step back and allowing you to move as you wished.

Within the next few movements, you stood above Shibusawa, cutting and stabbing him. Blood gargled from his mouth as his eyes lost the shine of life.

“Excellent work, Y/n.” Nikolai praised.

You caught your breath for a moment before responding, “Thank you, Nikolai.”

“Please, call me Kolya.” he removed the knife from your hand and set it down.

He grabbed the bag as the two of you left the cell which now housed the dead. You grabbed Nikolai’s hand and brought him to the wine cellar with you. Pulling the light on the ceiling you saw plenty of wine bottles. More than enough for what you were going to do.

“Help me break these.” was all you needed to tell him before he exited the cellar with at least seven wine bottles in his arms.

The two of you broke plenty of bottles on the table, and gathered the glass pieces. You asked him if they had any wire, and he left only to return a moment later with it in hand. You wrapped the broken bottle pieces in the wire, creating two large glass wings. Nikolai scrounged parts of the forest to find large wing shaped pieces to match; he also brought back a bucket of snails from the fountain which you learned held Higuchi’s body.

You brought out Shibusawa’s corpse, and attached the wings to the proper places before wrapping the wire across his entire body. His hands were in a position of prayer, and his legs were crossed. You placed the snails across his body, centering them on his legs. You rigged a way to raise him and pulled the thick rope, tying it to the wall.

Nikolai stood next to you, admiring your work.

His wings shined, and his body looked almost peaceful; it was a graceful gift for the man who thought of himself as God.

“Come now, Y/n, and allow me to prepare a room for you. We have a long journey ahead of us tomorrow.” the jester said, turning your attention away from the body.

You followed him up the stairs to the main level of the castle.

“Is Fedya in Florence, yet?” you questioned, following him up the grand set of stairs.

He paused and looked back at you, smirking in response. “You will figure it out for yourself.”

~

Your night’s sleep was restless inside of Castle Dostoyevsky. The wind has picked up again on this elevated land, and the uneasiness and mystery of this half-abandoned castle was certainly not the best lullaby. You heard soft rumbling outside of your window, and rose in a haze to see what it was. As you brushed the curtain to the side, you spotted two figures getting into a black car. One with dual-colored hair entered the vehicle with no distractions, but a dark-haired man looked back at the castle, and directly at your window. He winked before seating himself in the car. As the vehicle drove away, you realized who that was.

Fedya.

You smirked softly at this game he chose to play, and walked back to your bed. You laid awake for several more minutes, before the fresh pattering of rain led you to sleep.

~

The sun had risen, and appeared slightly after dawn when you awoke. Opening your eyes, the first thing you saw was a pair of golden irises staring into yours.

You slid up in bed, groggily saying, "Kolya, what the hell are you doing?"

He giggled, "Coming to prepare you for our trip to Florence, of course!"

You sighed and cast him a tired smile as he gave you a new set of clothes to wear; you could tell they were his due to their colorful and eclectic nature. He tipped his hat to you before leaving the room, telling you to join him out front when you were changed.

After you changed, you put on your gloves and coat and walked out of your room. Walking through the halls, now filled with the morning light, the castle felt serene. Books were scattered along tables, portraits and paintings hung on the walls. As you neared the end of your hall, you were able to see a portrait you couldn’t make out the night before.

It was of a young Fyodor, and a younger girl. Looking closely, you could see the resemblance in their features. The young girl had the same black hair he did, but she had icy blue eyes instead of his amethyst eyes. Her smile was faint, and her eyes held a shine. Neither of which appeared on the boy to her left.

That must be Mischa.

You smiled gently, and moved to make your way down the stairs and to Nikolai in the front gardens.

~

After catching a morning train out of Saint Petersburg, you had a long two days of travel ahead of you with Nikolai as your companion. You sat next to him, going between reading a book and looking out of the window. He would occasionally pop a piece of candy he had hidden in his pockets, then look around and observe the other people in the car with you. When night came, you would lean your head on his shoulder, quickly falling asleep; he would do the same. By the second day, he became more restless. You would play quick and silly games, or come up with new names and stories for the other passengers. He told you stories from his time in the circus, and of his adventures with Fyodor and Sigma, who you learned was the other man you saw from the window.

When the train reached its final destination at the Firenze Santa Maria Novella station, you exited the train with a deep breath.

“Where are we headed now?” you asked Nikolai, who stood to your left.

“We’re headed to Fedya’s home here for dinner, upon Sigma’s invitation.” he responded.

As you entered the large station building, you asked for a moment alone from Nikolai. You walked to one of the phones, and dialled a number.

“Mr. Sakaguchi?” you questioned.

“What is it, Y/n?” said the investigator.

“Are you back in Florence?”

“Yes.”

“Do you have the address of Dr. Dostoyevsky’s home here in the city?”

“Of course.”

“Excellent. I need you to bring the polizia and meet me there. It’s time to catch Il Demone.”

~

Sitting in the taxi with Nikolai, the silence was broken by his serious tone.

“You know, Y/n, you’re not the only one who wants to see Fedya behind bars.”

You looked at him slightly stunned. Through the noise of the train station, he could hear your conversation?

The question must have shown through your eyes as he responded, “Of course, dear. I have my ways.”

You chuckled at his words.

“We still have time before dinner. Would you like to make a quick stop?” he asked, mischief in his eyes.

Before you could respond, he told the taxi driver where to go.

~

As you exited the vehicle along the main street, you thanked the driver before Nikolai dragged you after him. The large, stone building you were approaching was gorgeously lit by the aureate sun.

“Where are we?” you whispered, walking through a doorway into the building.

“The Uffizi Gallery.” Nikolai smirked.

You recalled your conversation with Ango, and his mention of the Primavera.

Walking side by side through the rooms of the gallery, awe was ever present in your features. The many statues and paintings, the dazzling ceilings and history. You followed Nikolai into a new room, and there you saw the infamous painting. The Primavera hung proudly, displaying to you the memories of Fyodor, who sketched and memorized this painting many times, even murdering in a replication of it. Standing in front of the painting with Nikolai, you turned to ask him a question.

“Do you feel him here?”

He stood quietly for a moment before answering, “I feel him everywhere.”

As the remaining people in the room left, he continued, “Once you meet Fedya, you never manage to forget him. He works his way into your heart and your mind, and no matter what you drink, what you take, or who you kill, he will never leave your soul.”

A look of knowing passed between the two of you, communicating ‘We have learned this by now’.

~

That night you stood with Nikolai outside of Fyodor’s home. The bright exterior contrasted with the dark interior as Sigma answered the door.

“Hello Kolya, Y/n.” he said, lightly nodding at each of you as you walked through the door.

You removed your coat and gloves, placing them on the coat rack by the door. Your heart started racing in anticipation of seeing the doctor again. He guided you to sit in the dining room, and you noticed similarities from his former dining room. You sat around a circular table, which held a small name card by each glass of wine. It almost reminded you of King Arthur’s Knights of the Round Table. 

Sigma sat to your left, and Nikolai sat to your right as the doctor brought out the dishes. 

“Tonight, we will be dining on Bistecca alla Fiorentina with roasted potatoes and sautéed spinach.”

Fyodor sat across from you at the table, staring into your eyes with a glint of longing.

The meal started and ended in silence, with Fyodor rising to grab the plates. You did not ask if you could join him, and instead went to the kitchen after he disappeared behind the door. He was placing the plates in the sink when you stood across the island. He turned around to look at you, and placed his palms on the island.

"It is nice to see you again, Y/n."

You stifled. That is the first thing he wants to say to me.

"I suppose it's nice to see you too, Fedya."

"Did you enjoy your stay at the castle?"

"Yes, I did."

He hummed and removed his hands from the island.

I am done with the pleasantries.

"What do you want from me, Fedya? You have strung me along in your game for long enough. You said you felt compassion for me, but I see none of that in your actions. If I am truly your saint, why torture me in this way?"

His eyes gained a hurt and a sincerity as he spoke lowly, "I wanted you to be with me. I want you to be with me. I am unfamiliar with these emotions, and I handled them the only way I knew how. You are my saint, Y/n, and I deeply regret my actions."

A stillness fell upon the room.

"Do you love me?"

"Of course I do, Y/n."

He walked around the island to your figure, placing his left hand on your shoulder and his right hand on your cheek.

"That is why you must allow me to repent." he whispered, heavy emotion in his features.

He walked out of the kitchen, leaving you there as he walked through the house where Sigma and Nikolai had already fled. You walked out of the kitchen a moment later and saw him open the front door and walk out of his home.

You followed behind him, and saw him raise his hands and get on his knees in front of dozens of police. As they approached him and placed the cuffs on his hands, Ango Sakaguchi walked to your body, still standing by the door.

"Thank you for giving me the tip." he said.

"It was no problem." you stated, watching Fyodor get put into one of the cars.

'Thank you' he mouthed before the door was slammed in face.

Four months later, he was extradited back to Baltimore and placed under Dr. Chuuya Nakahara's care in the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane.

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