Dark!Mafia!RomanoXReader: A Man Who Got EverythingIt was an eerie atmosphere in the restaurant, or maybe it was just you. Well, you know it wasn’t you, because as you stumbled into the place, everyone’s heads turned to look at you. You gulped loudly, slightly uncomfortable from being soaking wet or the fact that everyone watched you like you had grown another head. You fixed your hair, pushing some of it out of your face as you walked to the bartender, who eyed you cautiously. They people continued on chatting, occasionally shooting you a glance.Dark!Mafia!RomanoXReader: A Man Who Got Everything by procrastinator-otaku
“Uh, your sign says you speak english.” You mumbled as you smiled politely. He raised a brow and placed the glass that he was cleaning on the bar counter. You waited for him to respond, wanting to know if he actually spoke english before you continued on.
“Yeah.” He spoke softly, almost like he was unsure of what he was supposed to do. “I wouldn’t expect a tourist in these parts.” His voice had something hidden in it. You wondered what he
Hidden Happiness, IcelandxReader Emil had learned throughout his long life that it was best to find happiness in the little things. It was so much easier to live for as long as he expected to when he could allow himself a little bit of joy in the sound of rain hitting the window, or the smell of bread baking. It could be hard, though, to find even small things to be happy about amidst wars, poverty, and disease. After years upon years of going to work--which almost always held the promise of a meeting being held to discuss only these problems--it had become more regular for him to be shrouded in a sort of silent acceptance of the darker things.Hidden Happiness, IcelandxReader by Driftingnotes
But then... There had been you. He knew how cliche that sounded, and a part of him absolutely detested how that cliche spark could often pierce through his calm, cool, and collected exterior that he had spent years building up. With time, though, he was able to accept that part of himself and focus on something that actually mattered, like getting to
The Roaring Twenties, AmericaxReader The feel of fur on bare skin was absolutely divine, and you couldn’t ever help the pleased shiver that ran up your spin each time you slipped that expensive coat over your clothes. However, there was another part of you that loved the way that same fur slid off your shoulders, gliding off of your skin like a seagull skating over the ocean, exposing your outfit to those around you. That was why you always loved coming into work. You loved hearing your heels click across that dark alley then down those now-familiar hidden stone stairs, loved the welcoming creak of the wooden door being opened after you had gone far enough underground, and loved how the bouncer unlocked the door upon seeing you and how he helped you out of your long fur coat, hanging it before locking the door behind you.The Roaring Twenties, AmericaxReader by Driftingnotes
“Having a nice night, Frank?” you hummed as his large hands moved the fur away from your arms, revealing the thin straps of your beaded dress. Navy blue bead