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moody-alcoholic · 2 months ago

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Cross My Heart

Part 8 - Welcome To The War

Summary: eventual poly141 x reader. Enemies to lovers, mini fic.

CW: use of weapons, death, cannon typical violence, bombs/ explosions, military inaccuracies, blood, mention of injuries.

AN: Taking a break from this. Got to work on main project (the next chapter so close to being finished i's haunting my dreams)

Previous parts - masterlist - next AO3

Enjoy <3

“I still think you’re crazy going after Makarov.” You say crossing your arms. “Why do you want him so bad?”

“He’s a terrorist.” Price says like that’s supposed to explain everything.

“The ULF and Al Qatala are terrorists, according to your country.” Price nods and moves back to the table.

“We’re not concerned about Al Qatala, the ULF want the same goals as us.”

“Is that why the Americans are working with Farah?”

“They’re not.” Ghost says. “Not anymore.”

“I assume you had something to do with the death of The Wolf?” You ask, raising an eyebrow. Price nods.

“I remember it happening. Konni helped sneak The Butcher and Khaled out.”

“The Butcher? Jamal?” Price asks then looks at Ghost. The energy in the room changes.

“What?” You ask, you don’t think you’re going to like the answer.

“We thought he was dead.” Ghost says. Price braces himself on the table. That news seems to have put a wrench in whatever plan they had. At least they know now they know he’s alive before-

“Hold on.” You stand up out the chair.

“He’s going to be at the meeting with Ivan and Makarov. He was supposed to torture Alex. He’s already on his way to the base.”

“Makarov’s already changed his plans.” Price says.

“Yeah but The Butcher hasn’t, he’ll still be heading there. You take the whole building out. That's one hell of a blow to Konni, take out one of their strongest posts as well as Ivan who basically controls that whole region.” You look round at them with wide eyes and hands in the air like you’ve just come up with the best plan in the world.

“That’s where Makarov was going to launch his attack from, it’s the only place they have on the border.” They’re just looking at each other, not saying a word. You look down at the plans on the table. There’s handwriting on one of the pieces of paper. It grabs your attention and you pull it out.

It’s a diagram of missiles, they look new though. Konni doesn’t have new missiles, they’re still using cold war stuff. Then you remember what that man said in the room ‘he's planning a nice surprise for the ULF.’ You pull the paper towards you, turning it over.

“It’s not been translated yet.” Ghost says. You ignore him, you recognise the handwriting it’s Ivan’s for sure.

“He’s buying missiles off Al Qatala.” You say looking up at them.

“No. Because then-” Price doesn’t finish his thought, his eyes flicking up to Ghost.

“He would have American missiles.” Ghost says.

Fuck.

—

Farah didn’t take it so well that Jamal was still alive. Alex went white as a sheet when he heard about the torture part. Soap seemed perked up looking over the shitty floor plan of the compound you drew for him from memory.

“If we take this place out we’ll halt them in their tracks. They won’t have the missiles, the building will be gone and Jamal will be dead.”

“Busy day.” Alex says.

“How sure are we that Jamal is moving the missiles there, and not to some other place? Especially now you got Alex out.” Farah asks. Gaz turns a laptop around.

“Spotted on the Russian border a few hours ago.” Gaz says, you lean over to look. It’s pictures of a convoy, big trucks going through the border.

“We are still waiting for the satellite but it’s the best we have for now.” Price says.

“Okay, we can be ready to leave within the hour.”

“No. ULF has to stay here.” Price says, Farah opens her mouth to protest Price raises his hand stopping her. “It’s across the border, you can’t get involved. It’ll just be us.”

“If it’s true that Jamal is alive, Al Qatala could regroup. This could change the outcome of this war.” Farah says.

“We’ll get him.” Price says. You raise an eyebrow, he looks so sure.

“What do you need?” She asks.

“A car, explosives. We’ll be back before the morning.” Price says. She sighs standing back up and ordering someone around in arabic. Price moves with Ghost and they head out the room. You chase after them pushing past them and stopping in front of Price.

“I want to come.” You say, he stops raising an eyebrow at you.

“You got stabbed-”

“You got shot.” you interrupt him

“-Less than 48 hours ago.” He finishes.

“I know my way around that compound. I can get you in and out without being spotted.” You say holding your ground.

“Just tell us where to go and we'll figure it out.” Gaz says, you shoot an angry look at him.

“I know that place like the back of my hand. I can get you through anywhere you need to go. I know where everything is. I know how to disable their systems, where all the gear is stored, where to avoid.” You feel like you’re pleading with him. They need you, there’s no way you’re going to sit around and not be involved with this. Besides you owe Caleb.

“Can you shoot?” Price asks. You smile and nod.

“Go with Soap, Farah has gear lying around he’ll help you with what you need.” He sighs, you look at Ghost and Gaz. You have no idea what Ghost is thinking, not with his mask. Gaz just has an eyebrow raised watching you.

“Thank you. I won’t let you down.” You say and rush past him to join Soap.

“You look cute when you get flustered.” Soap says his hand landing on the top of your back and leading you out the building.

“Shut up.” You say elbowing him maybe a little too hard, hanging your head feeling heat rush to your cheeks.

…

The gear you found was a little too big for you, the weapons in your hands feels foreign. You have shot a gun before, well, pistols. You don’t have time to worry about it though, as soon as you were finished with Soap you all piled into what looked like an old army 4X4.

The drive took over 2 hours. Price parked the truck behind a different tree line and you all walked in silence to the back of the compound. There is only one way in the compound officially, but there’s a basement back from the cold war era.

“It’s used for storage, most people think it’s sealed off but I’ve used it before, when things needed sneaking out without the rest of the base knowing.” You explain as you sit in the tree line with them watching the base. You can’t tell if there are more or less people around. Its evening and the sun is almost set, Price said the darkness will give them the cover you need.

As soon as outdoor light starts coming on you move. They're quieter than you, more sure on their feet quick and silent as you cross the open grass to make it to the building. You silently point them over to what looks like a drain cover about a hundred meters from the base.

They pull it off to reveal an iron ladder built into the wall itself. Ghost goes down first, then Soap, you and Gaz follow after leaving Price to go last. You walk down the tight hall which you were told once used to be part of an old storm drain system. Eventually it leads out into the main room. Crates and boxes are piled everywhere, some as old as the cold war.

“That door leads into the kitchens. It’ll be closed by now. It's the best way in.” You say pointing at the door up some steps.

If you thought Caleb was going to help you, you would have taken this route to get Alex out, maybe then he wouldn’t have died. All the guards you killed would have been alive.

“Gaz, Soap, start setting up the charges, we’ll clear the building.” Price says. They nod and split off in a different direction.

“Ghost take point.” Price says, Ghost pushes past you. You assume that means he’s supposed to lead. Good, you’re still not sure how comfortable you are with killing in cold blood. Most of the people working here are innocent, at least they’re just working here for a better life for their families, children. They’re not all in as deep as you or Ivan.

You make it into the kitchen and as suspected it's deserted at this time of day. It doesn’t feel right though, it’s almost too quiet. There’s movement, everyone's head snaps in that direction. A woman walks round the corner in a world of her own. Lights flick on when she looks up she freezes dropping whatever was in her hands.

Price and Ghost start shouting which just seems to confuse her even more as she slowly raises her hands.

“Where is everyone?” You ask in Russian. Her head snaps to you, her mouth opens but words don’t come out. You don’t have time for this. “We won’t hurt you, just tell us what’s going on.”

“When Makarov arrived there was a lot of shouting. I don't know what happened. They didn’t stay long before he left.” You can see tears coming down her face.

“What’s she saying?” Price asks. You almost want to shush him.

“Where were they going? Was The Butcher with them?” You ask.

“I don’t know. I only saw Makarov. They left a few hours ago.” She says with a sob.

“Okay, where is everyone? Is Ivan here?”

“He sent everyone home. Ivan is upstairs.”

“Makarov was here but he left a few hours ago. Ivan is upstairs.” You explain to Price. He nods at Ghost who drops his weapon and goes over to the woman. You’re not sure what's happening, you just hope they don’t hurt her, you look round the rest of the room. You hear zip ties looking back over to see Ghost pushing her into a store room.

“Let’s go.” Price says. You follow them as they clear the rooms. Even the ‘prison’ wing is empty. Before you know it you’re heading up the stairs. The only people being left alive are the guards on the gate entrance. You wonder why they left the woman in the kitchen, maybe she can get away before she’s buried in the building when it goes down.

It’s dark upstairs, the only light coming from the conference room at the end. You’re moving slow, your heart hammering in your chest. You watch as Ghost and price check the rooms almost in sync before moving on. You’re at the back this time. That you don’t mind.

Suddenly you hear movement behind you, before you have chance to react an arm locks around your neck. A yelp leaves your mouth loud enough to signal Price and Ghost who turn around. You feel the barrel of a gun pressing against your temple. Your hands fly up to his arm to try and pull it off but he pulls you backwards into a room.

His arm is around your neck squeezing just enough that you can’t get a breath of air. He pulls your body up, you feel a stabbing sensation in your side. You hope you haven't torn stiches. Weapons are trained on you both.

“Fuck me! 141 you’re taking the piss right?” He says in Russian. It's Ivan.

“Makarov’s looking for you.” He says to them in English.

“Good, we happen to be looking for him too.” Price responds. He takes a step closer and Ivan tightens his grip. You drop one of your hands, you have a knife on your hip. You don’t know if John can tell where your hand is going, you just hope he doesn’t give you away.

“How much are they paying you huh? Fucking traitorous bitch.” He spits in your ear, your fingers brush over the hilt of the knife. His grip is cutting off your oxygen, not that you could breathe right not anyway.

“Where’s Makarov?” Price asks.

“Ha! Like I would tell you!” He shouts, jolting you. You use it as an opportunity to pull the knife up over the safety clip. You shift your hand ever so slightly so you can hold it more secure.

“I thought you didn’t like him? What did Jamal steal your promotion?” You say through gasps of air.

“At least I know where my loyalties lie.” He growls in your ear. You smile, that pissed him off. Before you can think too much about it you twist your wrist driving the knife into his thigh.

His arms let you go immediately, you throw your body forward. Shots are fired, you can smell blood and gunpowder in the air. Someone grabs your vest pulling you up and out the way. You regain your balance standing up, Ghost holds the top of your arms as Price rushes into the room.

"You good?" He asks, you nod.

You hear moaning. Holy shit he’s not dead. You turn to see Price hauling him to his feet, throwing him into a chair. Ghost pushes past you into the room. You follow him slowly watching as Ivan holds his hand on his shoulder.

“Where are they?” Price asks again. You go over to the computer. He hasn’t changed his login and before you know it you’re in. You’re only half listening to Price and Ghost trying to get info out of him. There's the sound of skin hitting skin, the sound of his groans.

He won’t talk. That’s not your job though. Your job is to find out what you can from the computer, maybe that will tell you where Jamal and Makarov are. You see a mail from a burner address, you recognise the program, it’s the one they use for secure communications.

“They’re heading to Volgograd.” You say reading the email.

“What's there?” You hear Ghost ask, you turn to see if they’re talking to you.

“I don’t know.” You say going back to the email.

“Charges are set Cap.” You hear Soap say over the radio. Now you don’t have long, you need to leave. A gunshot makes you jump. You turn to catch the end of Ivan’s body falling to the floor. You swallow hard looking back at the computer and opening a new program you don’t recognise.

“Oh shit!” You say watching the countdown tick away. “Price!” They both come over and you stand up so they can see.

“This is the missile program.” You explain, there’s markings on the map and a countdown. 15 minutes.

“Do you recognise any of the targets?” Ghost asks. You reach over clicking on the map, it zooms in and pops up coordinates. You have no idea what to do with that. The map it’s using is old and black and white, you’re trying to make out points of interest.

“That’s where they’re being fired from.” You say pointing at the screen. “There being fired from within Urzikstan.”

“So what came over the border?” Ghost asks.

“Those missiles didn’t look long range, how far is their first target?” You zoom out, moving over to the first target. You’re squinting at the map, it’s almost like there's a straight line of targets across the land.

“80 kilometers.” “He’s making a new border.” Ghost says moving away from the computer.

“We need to leave.” Price says.

“Wait, some of these targets have innocent people living in them.” You say finally recognising some of the locations. Price sighs standing back up.

“Nothing we can do.” He says walking away.

“We can stop it!” You shout, turning back to type on the computer. He grabs your shoulder, turning you away.

“We can’t. Then Makarov will know we’re onto him. We can't let him know, as long as he is using this we have an advantage over him.” He’s gripping your shoulders. You let out a frustrated huff.

“Innocent people will die.” You say. He lets go of your shoulders and walks over to the door.

“Innocent people always die. Welcome to the war.” He says and walks out the room. You look over at Ghost, you still don’t know what he’s thinking, he waits a few seconds watching you then leaves the room.

You look back at the computer, there’s only 5 minutes left on the countdown. You didn’t even know how to stop it really, you were just hoping you could figure it out. You can hear Price talking in your ear, but you’re not really listening. You look over at Ivan’s body on the floor. You walk over and kick his arm with your foot.

There’s blood pooling out his head. Maybe it would have been more satisfying if you had killed him, maybe not. You’ll never know, he’s dead now.

“Come on! Let's go.” Ghost shouts at you from the doorway. You nod following him out taking one last look at the computer, only 3 minutes left.

…

You leave the building out the front gate, catching up with Soap and Gaz on the way. It’s bitter sweet. Ivan’s dead the base will be destroyed but now you have no idea what has been coming over the border. Makarov and Jamal got away and managed to get their missiles off.

“What do we do now?” You ask as you make your way back to the car. No one says anything. Maybe you’re not allowed answers anymore. You look over at Soap walking next to you, he smiles. The sound of the charges going off back at the base rumbles through the ground. You hope that woman in the kitchen got out, you doubt it though.

Suddenly everyone stops, you almost bump into the back of Ghost. You look past him you can see the car a few meters ahead of you.

“What?” Gaz asks.

“Shh!” Price snaps. You feel a pit form in your stomach. You and Soap look around, it's dark out you look up, the moon is bright in the sky. You don’t hear anything at first, then Price takes another step forward. You’re trying really hard to listen, then you hear a faint beeping. You look up at Soap, he’s frowning, he takes a step opening his mouth when the car explodes.

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kingkat12 · 5 months ago

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all yours (roman godfrey x reader)

WARNINGS: 18+, phone sex, dark!Roman is back oops, descriptions of sex, foul language, yandere!reader sort of??

summary: why did Letha call?-- actually, the better question is, will Roman let you find out why?

word count: 8,551

PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5, PART 6, PART 7, PART 8, PART 9, PART 10

a/n: hi lovelies!!! to clarify, there are a few mentions of the beautiful actress Romy Schneider, and I will link her HERE for you to get who i'm talking about!! i had a dream where i called Roman Romy and i thought huh where did i get that from, and then i realized it was because i watched a movie with miss Schneider in it, so there you go!! THANK YOU FOR THE SUPPORT!!! enjoy!<33

I stared at the missed call from Letha, the glow of the screen illuminating my face as I hid beneath my duvet. Frozen in a fetal position, I listened to the sound of my heartbeat as my thumb inched toward her name.

It was late-- too late to be awake, and too early to make a decision. The silence of my bedroom wrapped around me as my brows drew together in conflict, my head buzzing incessantly. It felt wrong to contemplate calling Letha back, especially as the cinnamon flavour of Roman's cigarettes lingered on my tongue. If I focused, I could still feel the push of his lips against my neck, and the pressure of his strong arms against my waist. It all made me shiver-- I wasn't sure what it would mean for my relationship with Roman if I called Letha back. How could I guarantee it wouldn't all blow up in my face?

I groaned, hopefully not loud enough to wake my parents, before I scrolled away from Letha's name. I needed a reminder of why I had thrown my friendship with her away, why I had messed it all up in the first place-- I had to drown out the memory of Letha's laugh somehow.

So, I pressed my phone up against my ear, placing a hand over my heart to feel it thud against my palm while I waited. The beating of my blood quickened when I realized my call was getting answered despite the lateness of the hour;

"Hey, you,"

Oh, I nearly melted at the sound of his voice. "Rome," I echoed, giving into a soft smile.

I heard the shifting of bedsheets in the background; "Miss me already?"

"Yeah..."

"I left, like, two hours ago,"

"So? I can hear you smiling over there,"

Roman's warm chuckle sounded through the other end of the phone, and I imagined him shaking his head. "Say it again,"

It was impossible not to stir-- I couldn't lay still when his voice was so deep and tired. "I miss you," I peeked my head up from the duvet, as it was getting damn warm beneath my covers. "I'm sorry for calling so late, I just... needed to clear my head."

He hummed, stretching; "It's alright, I wasn't sleeping,"

"What were you doing then?"

There was a rather pregnant pause. "... None of your business,"

"Oh?" I propped myself up on my elbows, intrigued. "Roman, are you?--"

"What did you need to clear your head about?"

I realized I wasn't getting anywhere with this, and that I quickly needed to stop thinking about my boyfriend spread out on his bed, wearing nothing but his boxers, slowly palming himself through the fabric-- no, I needed to get my mind out of the gutter. "We didn't get a lot of time to discuss the fact that Letha called,"

"Okay... Do you plan on calling her back?"

My heart only beat harder against my palm, and I had to swallow hard as I laid back down on the bed; "Would you be mad if I did?" The silence that ensued made my hands clammy-- I ended up wiping them on my duvet as I waited for his answer, holding my breath.

"Maybe?" Roman sighed, and I heard him tossing around in his bed. "I don't know what this feeling is, but... I just know it makes my chest burn. Doesn't feel good."

Something about his cluelessness made me want to grab his pretty face and pepper it with kisses. "Could be anxiety?"

"Nah, I don't have that shit,"

"Oh, Roman, everyone gets a little anxious sometimes!--"

"Stop rolling your eyes, I can hear it,"

Shocked, my heart nearly stopped-- he was right. I had rolled my eyes, and it freaked me out that he knew . "Fine... I won't call her back, then,"

"Alright,"

"You don't have to worry,"

"Alright,"

"Uh, do you have anything else to say other than alright?--"

"No,"

"... Alright," My brows drew together in confusion, wondering why Roman was retreating into his shell of emotional neglect. It was clear to me that the subject of Letha made him deeply uneasy, that he was probably worried she'd need me to break up with him for us to be friends again, but I tried to find comfort in the fact that he was scared to lose me... despite not being able to say that out loud.

Still, Roman always managed to surprise me-- I heard him sigh once more at the other end of the phone, but this time, in a sulky manner. "Could you say it again?"

"Say what?"

"What you said in the car," I could hear the embarrassment in his voice, knowing he didn't usually make requests like these; "That you're mine."

My eyes widened just a smidge, staring up at my ceiling with a bewildered look on my face. The tone of his voice made my stomach flip, wondering why my brain went haywire for the needy sound of his request. I did my best not to squeal and kick my feet like a little girl-- "All yours, Rome,"

A hum; "All mine?"

"All yours," My smile spread wider than ever before, joy blossoming in my chest. "Only yours."

He let out a shaky breath-- "Shit... don't say it like that,"

"Like what?"

"Like that," Roman shifted around in his bed, and I heard him kicking away his duvet. "I was already horny before you called, don't make it worse."

I was afraid my eyes would pop out of my skull as my air caught in my throat. So he had been doing what I thought he'd been doing? "You were the one who asked me to say it," I tried, feeling the adrenaline pumping through my body. This was definitely not going to help me sleep. "Why were you even doing that right now? It's so late!"

Roman only laughed-- "That call from Letha fucking cockblocked me in the car, what do you expect?"

"Christ," I mumbled, shaking my head as I pressed my palm against my forehead. Something about this was too damn thrilling. "So you're still... y'know?"

"Yep,"

"And... you're doing it right now?"

Another laugh ensued, deeper this time."Nah, I'm not that creepy. Just waiting for it to go down now... which is why you can't tell me you're mine with that sexy little voice of yours,"

Gosh, how that took my breath away. And even worse, was the maelstrom of ideas churning in my head about ways to milk this situation-- I really hoped my parents were asleep for this one. "Roman?"

"Yeah, baby?"

"I'm all yours,"

As expected, Roman groaned on the other end of the line. "Is that a green light?" he breathed. "Don't fuck with me right now, my brain doesn't work properly when you're involved."

I hadn't blushed like this in ages-- "I'm here if you want to go for it," Never in a million years did I think I would be having phone sex, especially not with Roman Godfrey. If someone had told me a month ago that this would be happening, I would've fainted on the spot.

Roman's laugh was deep, warm; I pressed the phone against my cheek as my hands trembled in excitement. "Go for it," he echoed, a mocking tone about it. "I'm not doing this shit alone!"

"Oh?"

"Not a fat chance in hell, baby. What are you wearing?"

My brows drew together as I realized what he was up to. Nervous, I lifted my duvet to check. My mind was so clouded by the thrill that I had genuinely forgotten what I was wearing. "Uh... A big t-shirt and my underwear?"

A hum. "What colour?"

"The t-shirt?" I wasn't sure why that mattered.

Another laugh from Roman ensued-- this was probably the moment it dawned on him that I hadn't done this before either. "Fuck it, we'll skip this part," he murmured. "The panties, babe. Take them off."

I let out a soft, nervous laugh, my trembling hands scurrying to take them off. As I laid my head back on my pillow, discarding my underwear somewhere along the bed, I pressed my phone back up to my ear just at the right moment-- I heard Roman's short, ragged breath, presumably resuming his activities. "Ugh, I miss having my mouth on you," he breathed, shifting around. "I've told you how good you taste, right?"

"Yeah, you have," His words made me want to squeal and throw my phone across the room, my brain going haywire. "I don't get it, but I'm not complaining. I like having you between my legs."

"Good. I'm planning to be there quite a lot,"

I squeezed my thighs together-- this was making me aroused a lot quicker than I was willing to admit. Still, I decided to be bold; "Too bad we were interrupted today... Was looking forward to having my mouth on you as well,"

"Right... As if you'd do that in my car on that open street,"

"There was no one there!" I rolled my eyes at the sound of Roman's laugh. "What I'm trying to say is that I'd like to try one day."

"Yeah?" His voice was deeper now, raw-- "You'd want me to teach you how?"

I could only imagine the sight of him now; the way he closed his eyes, his hand wrapped around his hard cock as he worked his fingers around his shaft. I nearly lost my breath just thinking about it, and suddenly my mind was throwing me images of how it would be to wrap my mouth around it. How Roman would hold my hair, slowly buck up into my mouth with a soft grunt, telling me how good I was doing, how nice it felt-- I had a hard time snapping out of it. "Would love for you to teach me everything,"

"Fuck, baby," I could hear the shaky motions of his breath, the way it was on the brink of hitching. "Gonna take my time, teach you all I know... Don't you worry."

"You will?"

"You bet," Roman's voice was now barely a whisper against the phone, his words catching in his chest. "Gonna teach you how to take my cock, I know you'll do so well... So, so well, just like everything else you do."

That was it-- I reached between my legs, closing my eyes as I placed my fingers against my clit. It was impossible to stay away now. "You'll take care of me, won't you? Go slow?"

"Of course I will-- hah,"

My breath grew unsteady; "Shit, Rome, you've got me wet in record time," I dipped my fingers a little further down, feeling my arousal pooling between my legs.

"Yeah? Well, I'm damn hard for you," he breathed, a soft, quiet moan following. "Wanna sink into you, feel your tight little pussy around me..."

Had I not been so out of it, I would've called him out for being vulgar. Roman hadn't been this dirty before. My cheeks were downright burning.

"Wanna fuck you so good, you'll never leave. You'll just keep coming back, letting me make you cum over and over..."

I was squirming at this point-- oh, what I would give for Roman to be here with me right now. Have him wrap his arm around me, rub my clit for me, whispering all these dirty things into my ear instead of through the phone. "I won't leave, Rome,"

That seemed to be the most compelling thing I could've said. I could almost hear the way he threw his head back against his pillow, a small, wanton moan escaping his lips; "You're all mine, baby... Only mine, aren't you?"

Who would've thought this was the thing that would break Roman Godfrey?

"All yours,"

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

I was rather anxious to see Roman the next day at school-- I didn't know how to deal with all the dirty stuff we talked about on the phone last night. How was I supposed to look him in the eyes, knowing he thought about me like that? I wasn't complaining, but it was incredibly foreign.

We hadn't talked much today, other than the usual good morning text, and I dreaded answering the text he sent me right afterward;

romy schneider: did you sleep well?;)

I was aware that it sounded innocent, but it was impossible not to hear Roman's voice while reading it. All breathy, the signature smirk on display, roping me in with one hand on my waist as he whispered it into my ear... No, I couldn't answer it. Just thinking about it made me blush.

I had made it to second period without seeing any members of the Godfrey family, all until I had to cross the campus to get to my next class. There he was, not too far away from the football field, leaning against a lamp post as he lit his cigarette.

Roman hadn't noticed me yet, and a part of me hoped he wouldn't just yet. I wanted to take my time, watch the way his hair fell over his forehead in gentle motions as he lowered his head towards the lighter, the way his lips wrapped around the cigarette, and the way his beautiful green eyes suddenly darted up and landed right on me--

I nearly squeaked, stopping in my tracks as my breath caught in my throat. Even worse, was the cough that choked itself out of me. I hadn't expected him to notice me staring, not when I was this far away. My hands trembled as I tried to pull myself together, catching a glimpse of Roman's classic smirk as his cigarette lay comfortably between his lips. His eyes darkened, a mischievous shimmer in his gaze as he motioned for me to come over.

I was a mess by the time I reached him, and I tried to rub my clammy hands off my shirt in a way that wouldn't give away my stress. Still, I had an inkling he knew, and I only made it worse for myself when I opened my mouth; "Hey, dude,"

Immediately, it felt like my brain was on fire-- what was that? Stupid, stupid!

Roman seemed taken aback by that as well, amusement dancing in his eyes. "Since when do you call me dude?" He stifled a chuckle, taking a long drag of his cigarette; "I know about Romy Schneider, but this is new."

I only called him Romy Schneider to tease him on days he was exceptionally pretty (which could technically be any day), but dude? Now, it was downright obvious how nervous I was. "I-- Okay, just forget I said that," Kicking away a nearby rock, I lowered my gaze, no longer able to meet his. Roman's face was enough to unravel me, especially after what had been said last night.

Still, he laughed, blowing out a simple ring of smoke. "You're nervous,"

"Am not!"

"Fine. Look at me, then,"

Clenching my jaw, I adhered. My lashes fell heavy over my eyes, my lack of sleep stirring in my chest as I scanned my boyfriend; he was so handsome today, so calm. Roman leaned down, now balancing his cigarette between his fingers as he lowered himself to my level, inches away from my face in a rather intimidating manner-- the tension was so thick, I could probably run my fingers through it. "Is someone a little embarrassed?" he cooed, nudging my shoulder. "Not used to me running my mouth like last night?"

I was relieved to know I didn't have to explain why I was so flustered today-- still, I was being painstakingly put on the spot. "You always run your mouth, Rome, that's nothing new,"

"Not like that, though," Roman's eyes were practically sparkling. "It's alright if you can't take it. Just tell me if you can't."

Can't take it? Who did he think he was? There was a burning challenge in his voice, and mixed with my slight offense, it only lead to the following; "I can take it," I huffed, stepping forward. "You think I can't?"

Roman hummed, the corners of his mouth curving up into an evil grin. "Nah, I think you can. You're a quick learner," He pressed a short kiss against my cheek before straightening up, placing his cigarette back between his lips before leaning against the lamp post again. "You can keep up with me, right?" he mumbled in between a drag. "I'm not scaring you back into Letha's arms?"

Roman said it with a sense of humour, but I couldn't help but catch onto the anxiety hiding behind his words. My brows drew together, watching as he finished his cigarette and threw it to the ground, stomping it. I cleared my throat; "I thought we talked about this last night... You're quite hung up on this Letha thing, aren't you?--"

"No,"

That was too quick to be believable. "Rome?--"

"I'm not," As he turned back to me, Roman's eyes narrowed. I had forgotten how quickly his demeanour could change, with the snap of a finger. Suddenly, he was cold. "Stop projecting on me. You're being dramatic."

Huh? There was no way to contain the grimace that followed. My eyes widened, bewildered that he was snapping at me. That truly came out of nowhere. "What?" I breathed. "I'm not projecting-- Why is this setting you off so bad? We don't even know why she called me or what she truly wants!"

Roman groaned; it was clear that he hadn't meant to instigate a fight. Especially not on school grounds. "Jeez, could you lower your voice? People are staring," His cheeks redded a little as he caught the eyes of a few students passing us by, and he lowered his gaze to the ground, cursing under his breath.

I took a quick glance around, snorting as I turned back to him. "Roman, now that you're my boyfriend, I'm comfortable enough to tell you that you can't snap at me like that anymore. Or talk to me like that, for that matter. Ever! Those days are over, do you hear me?"

Roman's eyes widened to the likes of big, shiny plates of china, staring back at me with a look of both anger and horror. His lips drew a straight line and his jaw clenched before he spat pure venom; "Wow... You really know how to make a big deal out of nothing,"

Those words chilled me to the bone. Shellshocked, I took a step back, holding my breath as my eyes drilled into his. Roman's chest rose and fell in slow, long motions, none of us knowing what to say.

It was at this moment that I heard a cheerleader-cry coming from the football field, catching my attention. My gaze went past Roman and to the team that was practicing, doing some sorts of somersaults in the air as they howled the school's motto. And as we stood here with a clear view of the cheerleader team, practically hiding behind this lamp post, something dawned on me-- why had Roman been standing here in the first place? Why this exact place?

He seemed to be catching onto my trail of thoughts, turning to glance at my transfixion. It gave me a moment to lose face, opening and shutting my mouth as I flailed my arms in exasperation. It only got worse when I realized several girls on the team were waving at him, and I recognized one of them to be one of his earlier flings. Was it the one he screwed back in March? Then, it suddenly dawned on me that Roman wasn't turning back to me, his gaze now resting on the waving cheerleaders and their ridiculously short skirts as he nodded to himself in boyish approval--

My heart sank all the way down to my shoes. "Really, Roman? Really?" I didn't expect my voice to be so frail, so upset.

He sensed my tone, finally laying his eyes on me with an irritated look about him. Roman reached up to move his hair out of his forehead, running his fingers through his hair as he spoke; "What is it now? Just appreciating the view,"

"Appreciating... the view?" I was stunned. Stunned. It felt as though he had stabbed me right in the chest-- who the fuck talks like that to their girlfriend? "I'm glad to see you're invested in the relationship I threw everything away for. Thank you for the reminder, Roman, that you're still just a guy."

With a laugh, Roman was back to smiling-- he was giving me a severe case of whiplash. "What? They're waving at me, it's normal to check out who it is! You know I'm not going anywhere, right?"

No, I had to look away. I couldn't think clearly now that he looked so charming again. Why did he have to be so hot and cold? I had hoped we were past this on the spectrum of Roman-ness. It only got worse when he stepped forward, pressing a warm kiss to my temple. "All yours," he whispered against my skin, placing his hand on my cheek as he towered above me. "Let me walk you to class, hm?"

I had to take a deep breath, my eyes closing to relish in the fact that Roman was kissing me so openly in front of everyone, especially in front of the cheerleaders. Still, I knew I had to gather my thoughts-- the discomfort was lingering in my chest, the creeping unease settling in my mind. I didn't want to let this slide.

I strained a smile to mask my inner turmoil as I put my hand over his, getting up on my tippytoes to press a shy kiss to Roman's lips, feeling him sigh against me. It was short, sweet, and like a temporary band-aid. So when I pulled away, it felt like I was ripping it off with all my might-- I didn't want to. I forced myself to speak, clearing my throat; "I'll walk myself to class, thanks,"

I could see it in his eyes that he was taken aback, not expecting that I would turn down his offer. The flicker of confusion streaked across Roman's face like a flash of lightning. "Uh, okay... What subject do you have now?" he tried, an attempt to drag out our time together.

"... I'm gonna be late," I couldn't help myself-- I pressed a kiss to his cheek, wanting to feel him once more. If there was one thing I could find solace in, it was the fact that I could kiss him as often as I wanted to now that we were together. "Please find another place to smoke. You're breaking my heart."

That seemed to land a blow to Roman, whose brows drew together in a look of hurt. I was reminded of his promises to not hurt me, to do his best to keep me happy, and I left him by the lamp post hoping he remembered his words as clearly as I did.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

And I thought my unease wouldn't get worse. As the days flew by, I was positive, hopeful even. However, staring down at the messages Letha sent me this morning, I couldn't help but feel a sense of doom as I waited for Roman's last class to be over.

Several days had passed since the last time I saw Letha at the gas station, where she had tried to apologize to me. Her words of longing, how she insisted that she missed me and never meant for anyone to get hurt, had etched themselves into my mind, unable to be forgotten.

So, I figured it wouldn't do any more harm to read what she had written. I had waited all day to open her messages, after all. It was gnawing on my mind at this point-- My thumb hovered above the message notification, and I held my breath as my eyes grazed the words on the screen;

letha: hey... i didn't expect you to answer my call a few days ago, much less call me back, but i don't want to give up just yet. i want you to know how sorry i am that you were hurt and that i no longer talk to Jasmine, but that you deserve to know the truth after everything you've been put through this past month. i know you and Roman are a couple now, since he told me at dinner... and frankly because the whole school won't shut up about my baby cousin no longer harassing everyone. who would've thought?

letha: you were once mine, and i was yours. i might never fully forgive you for going behind my back, but you were my best friend in the whole world. i'm so tired of acting like i don't miss you. could we please talk?

letha: you need to know the truth about Roman. please.

I should've known this was a bad idea. I should've known. Pressing my phone up against my chest, feeling my heart beat against it, I squeezed my eyes shut as the school bell rang. Several students rushed out of the doors in the hallway, and I knew I had to get myself together before Roman saw me so out of it.

He and I hadn't been properly alone for a while. Although I had missed him and his lips against mine, I was still seething inside about him staring at the cheerleaders and the awful conversation before and after. I was still battling my jealousy regarding the situation; why had he been so snappy, all of a sudden? And why did he feel the need to appreciate the view? Everything about it made me nauseous.

Still, I didn't deny Roman when he caught up with me at lunch earlier today and asked me to wait for him after school. He had been so incessant, so sweet-- I missed my little devil, no matter how insecure he made me.

I got a few odd looks from the people passing me in the hall as I harshly patted my face in an attempt to snap out of my dark spiral of thoughts. Unfortunately, Roman also caught this just as he stepped out of his classroom; "What are you doing?" he asked, grimacing.

Flustered, I watched him throw his backpack over his shoulder, towering over me as I was pressed further against the wall behind me. Despite his look of disapproval, he still looked ridiculously pretty today-- Romy Schneider. His hair was styled in a classic heartbreaker look, the green in his eyes fixating on me as he tried to find a reason for my odd behaviour.

"Nothing," I lied. "Trying not to fall asleep. I've been waiting for your class to be done for, like, an hour."

Roman hummed, leaning down to place a quick kiss on the top of my head. "Thanks for waiting. It's nice to see your face," He placed his free hand on the small of my back, leading us to walk down the hallway. "So... There's a movie going down at the cinema tonight, and I think we should go and make out in the back. Thoughts?"

I held back a sickeningly girly giggle-- my heart fluttered uncontrollably, and it was as though all my anger melted away. "Which movie is it?"

"Not sure. Some Serbian silent film from the sixties,"

"Oh... Right up our alley, then,"

Roman's laugh nearly made me blush. Accompanied by the small squeeze of my waist, I allowed myself to keen against his body, letting out a small sigh of satisfaction.

This was my favourite part of the day. Being paraded down the hall for everyone to see. At this moment, I forgot about my sorrows with Letha, and could suddenly feel the pride blooming in my chest as I got a few jealous, scorching stares from a group of girls passing us by. It only got better when I realized they were cheerleaders-- my eyes followed them, narrowing as a rather evil grin spread across my lips.

That'll show them. I was ready to cut off the heads of the next ones that waved at my boyfriend.

I leaned against Roman's touch, feeling his hand resting at my side. Something told me he was putting up a bit of a show to make up for the incident by the football field a few days ago, and honestly? I liked this. I could live with this.

Roman caught up with my little feeling of victory, snickering to himself as he playfully rolled his eyes; "Getting high?"

"Yeah," I breathed, feeling my cheeks get rosy as he stroked his thumb along my skin, caressing me as we continued down the hall. This was certainly a high-- one I had longed for. In a flash of confidence, I obnoxiously turned my head to watch the seething cheerleaders, flashing them a vicious smile. Bitches.

Roman tsked, the signature smirk forming across his lips. He noticed my glee-- "What do you say we give them a show?" he murmured, his green gaze darting back to me, his burning eyes full of dark agenda.

I didn't have time to protest or agree as Roman grabbed my shoulders, leading my back up against the nearby lockers. Oh, everyone would definitely hate us more now-- but I could only smile up at him and bask in the feeling of mutual thrill.

"Are they still looking?" Roman whispered, biting his lip to contain his excitement.

A quick glance-- "Yeah,"

His eyes practically sparkled. "Good," Suddenly, he snaked one hand around my waist as the other rested against my cheek, his thumb hooked under my jaw to tilt my head up-- It was easier to kiss like that, seeing as he was practically taller than a fucking tree. Roman leaned forward, brushing his lips across mine, feeling the coolness of my breath against his skin, contrasted by the warmth of my quick breath through my nose over his cheek. Then, the soft pillow of his mouth pushed against mine, the pressure so adoring it made my blood heat all the way into my fingertips.

Roman had tried to do similar things in public multiple times before we became official, but I had shut him down every time. Before, it would've terrified me out of my mind to do something so bold; to make such a statement in front of the school that I was his, to show I was so dizzyingly into him that I would let him do this to me in public. But here I was-- craving it.

It was a show of power, and of submission and belonging; Roman's lips were deadly soft, but there was a hint of something more fiery, sincere. My hands quickly tangled into his hair, pulling him closer as I savoured both the moment and the taste of his cinnamon cigarettes on his tongue.

Roman's plush lips were slightly parted, moving a little as though he was whispering a question-- it was so painfully sweet.

Sweet.

And I imagined the sight to be a gut punch to the cheerleaders watching us from down the hall. I wondered whether they had ever seen this side of Roman before, felt this side of Roman, or whether he hadn't bothered to act as though they interested him. Everything about it made me smile-- there was a sinister satisfaction in it.

I sighed against the kiss, a soft smile splayed across my lips as Roman pulled away, gently nudging my nose with his before he straightened up. "Could you stop giving me grief now?" he teased, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. "Everyone knows we're together. No one's gonna try anything after this, I'm not into the cheerleaders, and I'm dying to roll around in your bed after the movie. Maths always fucking drains me."

Giggling, I reached out for his hand. "Why can't we roll around in your bed, for once? I still haven't been to your place,"

Roman shrugged, intertwining our fingers as he lead me away from the locker. "My mom is crazy, and yours isn't. It's easier that way,"

"Oh?" It struck me that he never actually talked about his parents-- "What do you mean?"

Roman remained quiet as he led me out of the main entrance, and we were now walking hand in hand down to where he had parked his car. It was obvious that he didn't want to talk about it, that he maybe wasn't ready for it. As I spotted his unease, I wrapped my arms around his, clinging to it-- and I was sure he'd have smiled down at me, had the following not happened.

Our steps came to a halt before I could realize why he froze. I glanced up at Roman, about to ask him why he stopped so abruptly until it became glaringly obvious.

Because there she was, leaning against the bonnet of his car-- Letha. Her nervous gaze flickered between the both of us, breaking out into an anxious laugh as she shoved her hands into her pockets. "I thought I would see the two of you here,"

Her perfectly styled blonde hair lay in soft waves over her shoulders, her kind, green eyes piercing me with the softest impact as she searched my face for a reaction other than horror.

I hadn't expected to cling to Roman as hard as I did, but now it felt like I was holding onto him for dear life. My blood ran cold, my whole body freezing over at the sight of her. It was damn awkward meeting her knowing I had ignored all her attempts at reconciliation, and I wanted to crawl up Roman's shirt and hide.

Nonetheless, I planted my feet on the ground and watched as Roman balled his fists, inhaling sharply to contain his disdain; it was clear that he didn't want to see her either. "Letha, I told you not to do this," he said, jaw clenched. "She obviously doesn't want to talk to you."

With small steps, I dared to partly hide my body behind Roman. Free shield, no? This whole meeting had me mortified, wanting the ground to open up and swallow me whole-- I didn't expect my heart to beat so hard, and I prayed it wasn't audible.

Letha cleared her throat, visibly uncomfortable. Her kind exterior started to crack, hardening. "I've just been going insane... I wanted to ask if you've gotten my message?" Her green gaze darted towards me as she asked me the question, and the meeting of our eyes made my grip around Roman tighten. "What message?" he echoed, looking down at me with clear disdain. It felt like his stare was drilling holes into my brain, scanning my inner thoughts to dig out the truth-- I was cornered.

Fuck. "I didn't have time to tell you yet..." This was downright horrifying, and I tried to make myself smaller as I avoided Roman's burning gaze. "She says she just wants to talk, Rome."

Roman groaned, instinctively pulling me further behind him. I was fully sheltered now, and my breath caught in my chest as his next words came out sharper, harsher, as he turned to his cousin; "Letha, she doesn't want to talk to you! What is so hard to understand here?"

Oh, so he was speaking for me now?

Letha groaned, rolling her eyes. "How the fuck am I supposed to know if she's the one avoiding me or if you're telling her to? Come on, Ro!" She stepped away from the car, raising her voice; "Can't you at least step away? She doesn't need you to fucking shield her or speak for her!--"

"You don't know crap about what she needs!" Roman barked, fury burning in his voice. "You threw it all away! Face that you screwed up! And for the first time in my life, I'm needed, and I will shield her as I please!" He glanced back at me, motioning for me to start walking with him to the car.

My breath caught in my throat, not daring to tell him no. Not when he was in this mood, definitely not.

With quick steps, Roman pulled me along with him. "Stop bothering her," he hissed in Letha's face, opening the door to the passenger seat for me. "You've done enough damage. Enough."

I sank into my seat, not meeting Letha's broken gaze as Roman made his way to the driver's seat. I didn't need to see her to know what she looked like right now-- green eyes probably glossed over, her slender arms wrapping around her for comfort.

It only got worse when Letha called my name, her hurt voice making it impossible to avoid her anymore. When I finally turned to her, listening to the sound of the car starting, it almost felt as though I was looking into a mirror. I was sure I looked just like that when Letha abandoned me crying on the bleachers, calling me a whore when I told her about my feelings for Roman before she stormed off. My heart tore into a million pieces, looking into the teary eyes of the girl who used to know me better than anyone else.

Still, did I owe her the kindness of pity? She certainly hadn't shown me any.

I didn't have time to think about it-- Roman quickly drove us out of the school parking lot, groaning as he ran his fingers through his hair with his free hand. I could see that he was still seething, eye twitching as he gripped the steering wheel with a little too much power.

"Such bullshit," Roman cursed-- I hadn't seen him this pissed before. "She has no right to bother you anymore. I fucking told her!"

"She just--" Letha's big, green eyes of sadness haunted me. It made my heart clench, my soul crumble. "She seems really desperate to talk, Rome."

He glanced at me, just for a second, with apparent disdain. "So? I don't get why you're even entertaining the thought of giving her the chance to!" His grip around the wheel only tightened as he turned his gaze back on the road. "But Letha's got quite the nerve to just show up like that... She's begging for you to forgive her so her guilty conscious gets relief, it's damn selfish! It's not about you at all!"

"Why not?" I turned in my seat, feeling my frustration simmer. "Why would it not be about me? Is it so crazy to think she might just want us to be friends again, that I'm someone worth being friends with?"

"That's not-- She doesn't want to be your friend!"

"Then why the hell is she doing all of this?"

"Because Letha obviously doesn't want us to be together, don't be so naive!" Vexed, Roman hit the steering wheel with a loud groan-- it made me jump in my seat. "If you think she's forgiven you for going behind her back, think again! This is her taking revenge on me for all the times I've messed with her friends, okay?"

I didn't want to think about him and Letha's long list of ex-friends; it made me nauseous. I resorted to balling my fists, trying to collect my thoughts. "You didn't even let me hear her out..."

Roman snorted, rolling his eyes as he adjusted the rearview mirror. "You're making it sound like I'm a controlling asshole. May I remind you that you were hiding behind me, holding onto me for dear life?" He turned to me, a sharp look in his green eyes; "And when the fuck were you going to tell me that she texted you?"

Oh... That.

Honestly? I had hoped to get a little more time to think about it. To at least have that opportunity. "I would've told you sooner if you hadn't drooled all over the cheerleaders that day," I knew it was a reach, but I didn't know what else to say. As I crossed my arms over my chest, I truly felt how little I had processed that situation. "Appreciating the view, as you said!"

Another groan, along with one more hit against the steering wheel; "They waved at me, it's normal to check who it is when someone waves at you!--"

"I don't give a shit, the thing that matters is that the girl who waved was the one you fucked in March!--"

... Oh no. He didn't need to know that I kept track of that.

"... What?" Roman's angry expression turned confused as his grip loosened around the wheel, quietly trying to process what I had just said.

As soon as those words slipped past my lips, I felt my throat go dry as I pressed my back against the seat. Why would the leather not split apart, swallow me whole, and allow me to avoid the aftermath? I hadn't expected to blurt that out; there was no going back now. "Yeah... And now she's waving at you like she possibly has a chance with you, because maybe you like making her think she still does! How do you think that makes me feel?"

Roman looked like he was two seconds away from ripping the steering wheel off its hinges, eyes wide and burning with fury. "What the fuck are you accusing me of here? And since when have you been keeping up with my sex-life?!"

Sure, I walked right into that one-- I suddenly felt like I had been transported right back into the time I watched Roman from afar. The way I'd watch him throw tater tots at the cheerleaders to catch their attention, the way he'd make me feel small by pulling my hair as he passed me in the halls, and how I had gotten used to the sight of him disappearing upstairs with girls at parties wishing that was me.

It felt like I was that girl again; the one that kept track of everything he did. The one who would compulsively wash my hands if I was introduced to one of his previous flings through Letha. The jealousy, the obsession-- it was all hitting me now. Especially as I turned to watch him, how his lips were angrily pressed shut, confusion visible on his pretty face.

It was too damn overwhelming. I realized my hands were trembling as they reached for the hem of my shirt, anxiously ripping at the seams as always. However, through the storm of feelings coursing through me, I heard Letha's melodious laugh as my memories flooded my mind-- She had been my anchor through it all, despite the fact that she never knew about my feelings for Roman.

No, no, no-- I hated how emotional this made me. "I threw away everything with Letha to be with you, so I'm sorry that I'm paranoid. I don't think you get that she was everything to me. But even despite that, she was my moon and you were... the sun,"

Roman's grip around the steering wheel loosened as his lips parted in uncertainty, brows drawing together as his gaze flickered between me and the road. "You didn't know me back in March," he mumbled, still processing. "That makes no sense--"

"I carved our initials into a tree in March,"

"... Oh,"

My gaze darted back down to my lap, checking out what I had done to my sweater. There were a few loose threads now, that's for sure. I almost laughed at the sheer absurdity of it, suddenly remembering how I had gotten so lovesick that I drove my keys into a tree during a walk in the park, carving our initials as tears streamed down my cheeks. It had been a horrible March; I couldn't be more happy that it was over.

Roman nodded to himself, chewing invisible gum--

"Okay... Where?"

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

I never expected him to see this. Ever.

I leaned against the tree, watching as Roman traced our initials with a shimmer of fixation in his eyes. The green of the park was a dark contrast to the light green of his orbs, the hazel and blue nuances being the only points placing him perfectly in the scenery. Like this, it was as though I was looking at a painting-- the ones painted by depressed Russian artists before the fall of the Tsars. They always knew how to bring beauty into a world that was only cruel to them.

It was specific, sure, but I had to occupy my mind with something as Roman remained quiet. The wait was nerve-wracking.

Ethereal hues of sunlight shone through the thickness of the trees in the full bloom of summer as I kicked at a nearby chestnut. About half an hour had passed since our argument in the car, and another half hour passed before I finally found the tree in a desolate part of the park. I chewed on my bottom lip, anxiously watching Roman's every reaction.

I expected him to be freaked out. To be disgusted, even. How creepy wasn't this?

However, Roman was painstakingly calm. He ran the pads of his fingers over every cut, every bumpy line-- "This is..."

"Yeah, I know," My arms were crossed over my chest, gaze now resting on the grass nearby. "I never thought you'd like me or that I'd betray Letha like that, so I wanted to... materialize my feelings, if that makes sense? Bottle it up somewhere. Pull a Voldemort."

"A what?"

"Like, horcruxes?" Confused, I got the courage to look at him again. "Roman, have you not seen Harry Potter?"

He shrugged-- "Isn't it, like, for kids?"

"... You used to be a kid too, do you remember that?" Oh, the hypocrisy; "You've been harassing me about not having watched The Godfather for ages, but you haven't even seen?-- Oh, fuck it." It was impossible not to laugh, and I gave into a low chuckle as I pressed my crossed arms tighter to my chest. "Anyway. This tree thing is super creepy, I know, so would you rather I showed you the message from Letha instead?"

Roman finally looked at me, a blank expression on his face. Something told me he didn't want to give away his true feelings regarding the matter. Still, he held out his hand, and I promptly gave him my phone.

Roman knew my password-- that was no issue. He didn't have to ask for it, now staring down at the message from Letha.

I pressed my back against the tree as much as I could, wanting to melt into it and disappear just like earlier in the car. Watching the way Roman's brows drew together in confusion, the flash of annoyance that streaked across his eyes-- it didn't help my anxiety that he didn't say anything, wordlessly handing me my phone back.

I held my breath as I tucked it back into my pocket, waiting for him to say something. However, what he said caught me off-guard;

"The tree thing... It's not that creepy," Roman leaned against it, staring down at me with a nonchalance about him, almost as though he hadn't just read Letha's words of betrayal.

It made me uneasy, but I shrugged; something about the beauty of his eyes calmed me down as I gave in to a soft smile. "You don't have to protect my feelings, Rome, I'm very aware--"

"It's not," Stepping away from the tree, he neared me with careful steps. "I know we've talked about this before, but I'm just a little shocked you felt so... strongly about me. Even during a time when I was pulling your hair. It just doesn't make sense that you'd like me at all, even now."

I sent him a defeated look, leaning my head against the wood behind me. "Why is that so shocking?"

Roman now stood in front of me, and he reached out to place his hands on my waist. "I just don't think anyone ever has in this way," he said. "It's so sweet, it almost makes me nauseous."

I giggled-- "I make you nauseous?"

Roman's next words were said with such a stoic tone, I froze to my spot; "You make me sick,"

Dumbfounded, I let my lips part in shock. It was almost as though his green eyes were filled with pity. "What?--"

"Sick to my stomach,"

Suddenly, I couldn't remember the last time he had blinked. Uhm...? The way we were standing, the way I was pressed up against this tree, gave me the biggest deja vu of my lifetime. This was exactly the same situation as when we played seven minutes in heaven, the very thing that had unraveled everything. I was frozen in fear of his next words, holding my breath.

"Knowing you have the compassion to feel this strongly about me, makes me sick," Roman breathed, his hands kneading my waist with strength that nearly made me wince in pain. "That you've fucked up your life to be with me, makes me sick. And that I'm going to have the worst time letting you go if I must, makes me sick." There was an intensity in him that I hadn't properly seen in him before now-- I wasn't sure whether to be scared or turned on. It only got worse when Roman leaned in, his hot breath against my lips making me shiver; "That I'm ready to go to war with Letha, with family, for you, makes me sick. Knowing I'm ready to rip her head off if she takes you from me... Makes. Me. Sick."

A quiet shiver of air left my body, my shaking hands grabbing at his. "Rome, I--"

"I'll be better for you," Roman's green eyes drilled into mine with desperation, his grip around my waist loosening before he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me flush against him. "Whatever Letha says about me, the truth as she called it, I need you to not believe it. I'm asking you to kill me, in a sense."

"What?--"

"I want you to make me so sick that I die in your arms," Roman let out a shaky breath, leaning his forehead against mine as his eyes closed shut. "I think it'd make me feel good. I don't want to be so bitter and angry all the time... and I feel good with you. Really good."

Oh.

My heart swelled as I brought my hands up to cup his face, my thumbs stroking over his cheeks as we stood still. There were leaves rustling in the distance, and a sweltering breeze that passed us briefly, but all in all, it was just Roman and I in this deserted area of the park. I could easily agree that it felt good, that it felt right-- just my pretty boyfriend and me.

I got up on my tippytoes, pulling Roman in for a gentle kiss. It made my heart swell, made the tips of my fingers burn as I felt his cold breath against my cheek when he exhaled through his nose.

It was just us, and I needed it to stay that way. We needed it to stay that way, to work as we needed to.

I couldn't let nostalgia kill this. Not for Letha, not for anything in the world. I wasn't sure what it was that she was dying to tell me, why she felt the need to tell me the truth about him as she claimed-- wasn't this his truest form?

Roman's hands pushed against the small of my back, drawing me in as close as humanly possible. The kiss deepened with every breath, with every pull of the other-- "Choose us," he pleaded, mouthing his words into my lips. "Me and you. Us."

His desperation nearly made me burst into flames, similarly to a phoenix; Roman would've gotten that reference if he had seen Harry Potter. It seemed I might actually have to watch The Godfather for him to do so. Still, I sighed softly into the kiss, my hands going into his hair to tug him closer.

I made my decision then and there-- I wasn't going to answer Letha. I could figure out the truth about Roman on my own, thank you very much.

"Me and you," I breathed. "Us."

(AAAAHHH if you've made it this far, thank you so much for reading!!<3333 here's PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5, PART 6, PART 8, PART 9, and PART 10 if you want to check them out!! THANK YOUUUU!)

(and credits to @august-diehl for the gif!!)

tagging those that seemed interested!!<333:

@mentallyscreamingsincebirth @putherup @corawithfanfiction @vladsgirlxx

@iamaslytherin0 @sexualparkour @the-universe-is-complicated @heavenly-bratt

@lafemme-nk @namiusedbubble @useyourwandbro @strmborns @literally-lani

@virgosapphire79 @star-girl-04 @veyzus @ddipotassium

@mil88691 @tloughost @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @katifefe @sn0wybowie-blog

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lizardtheartist · 2 years ago

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Oh yeah I also drew this *drops a project that took me 8 and a half hours to draw*

Edit: here’s a version of it with a black background cus I think it looks cooler

#sam and max #freelance husbands #sam and max fanart #artists on tumblr #sam and max save the world #feel free to turn this into a wallpaper idc

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angelssmvse · 5 months ago

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𝘼 𝘿𝘼𝙐𝙂𝙃𝙏𝙀𝙍’𝙎 𝙋𝙍𝘼𝙔𝙀𝙍

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁𝙁𝘼𝙄𝙏𝙃 𝘼𝙉𝘿 𝘿𝙀𝙎𝙄𝙍𝙀 𝜗𝜚 (part two)

Cecilia awoke from her brief nap, her phone suddenly capturing her attention. “Fuck! I’m so late…” she whispered urgently as she sprang out of bed.

She quickly donned her vest and washed her face, applying her daily makeup. Standing in front of the mirror, she checked her appearance, smiling at her reflection. “Perfect,” she declared to herself before grabbing her Bible and racing downstairs to where her parents were waiting. “Dad, I’m going to church—I’m so late” she exclaimed. “I love you; I’ll see you later!” Her parents waved back at her as she hurriedly closed the door behind her.

The meeting was scheduled for 8 PM, and the evening seemed to be going from bad to worse, especially as the rain began to fall. Thankfully, it was only a light drizzle. By 9:30 PM, Cecilia finally arrived at the church, the streets eerily silent and most of the lights extinguished. She followed the hallway leading to Father Charlie’s office, pausing momentarily in front of the door to catch her breath before knocking.

“Come in,” a voice called from within. She complied and opened the door, only to be taken aback by the sight before her: a large figure standing there, clad only in a towel loosely wrapped around his waist.

“Oh—uhm,” Cecilia stammered, momentarily speechless. “I thought you wouldn’t arrive, so I took a shower,” he explained, turning to face her with a smirk, his gaze appraising her. Cecilia instinctively looked down. “Yeah, sorry… I fell asleep,” she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. He studied her for a moment before asking, “Would you mind closing the door?” tilting his head slightly.

Cecilia nodded and quickly closed the bedroom door, returning to her previous spot. He approached her, taking the Bible from her hands, his eyes shifting from the book to her hands and then slowly meeting her gaze. He gently placed the Bible on the edge of the bed. The silence between them was palpable, the tension intensifying as his face drew nearer to hers.

Their heartbeats quickened, but he suddenly pulled away, grabbing a chair from across the room and positioning it in front of him. He then moved toward the bed, retrieving a towel. “Would you mind…?” he asked, handing her the towel to dry off the water still lingering on his back.

Cecilia nodded quickly, a soft smile gracing her lips as she silently moved to take the towel. He watched her delicate touch, noticing how gentle and graceful she was. Everything about her felt angelic, almost surreal. He settled into the chair, and before she could approach him, she caught sight of his back—her expression shifting to shock as she noticed the large scars etched across his shoulders. Though her heart ached for him, she said nothing.

Gently, she began to pat each scar, inadvertently causing him to groan in pain. Cecilia rested her hand on his shoulder, continuing her ministrations. However, when she inadvertently pressed on a particularly sensitive spot, he abruptly grabbed her hand, screaming, “No!”

Cecilia stepped back, panic rising in her chest. “I-I’m sorry,” she stammered, her voice trembling. “I didn’t mean to touch that, Father,” she whispered.

He lowered his gaze, guilt washing over him for his impulsive reaction. “No, it’s not your fault, Cecilia,” he said softly, shaking his head. “It’s okay.” He looked up at her, his expression more tender now.

Rising from the chair, he donned his vest before repositioning the chair in front of the bed where Cecilia sat.

He began his lesson, and she listened intently to every word. Occasionally, she glanced down at the book he was reading from, then looked up at him, holding his gaze as he explained various concepts. All she did was nod and absorb the information, captivated by his presence.

After a while, he noticed the clock indicating that hours had passed. He closed his Bible and smiled gently at her. “We’re done for now,” Father Charlie said softly. “And hey—it’s okay,” he added, laying his hand over hers. “It wasn’t your fault. I apologize for my exaggerated reaction.”

Cecilia looked down at his hand, then gently maneuvered hers to intertwine with his. “No need to apologize, Father,” she replied, smiling up at him.

The tension in the room thickened once more, their faces mere inches apart, the warm connection between them electric. He leaned in closer, his hand resting on her thigh, but just as the moment seemed poised to escalate, Cecilia’s phone rang.

Startled, she turned to grab her phone , while he stood up, exhaling deeply and massaging his temples, trying to regain his composure. “Hello?” she answered, her voice slightly breathless.

“Mom?” she said, pausing as she listened. “Yeah, I just finished; I’m about to leave… okay, yes mom… bye.” Cecilia hung up and rose, retrieving her Bible from the bed. Father Charlie positioned himself at the door, opening it for her as she stepped forward.

“Next lesson, same time,” he instructed, his eyes locking onto hers with a sincere intensity. “Make sure not to miss my next sermon, okay?” He looked down at her, and she nodded earnestly. “Yes,” Cecilia replied softly, a warm smile crossing her face. “Goodnight, Father,” she exclaimed before stepping out into the dimly lit hallway.

“Goodnight, Cecilia,” he murmured, his voice barely audible as she walked away. He watched her figure gradually fade into the shadows as he quietly closed the door behind her.

Once alone, he sank onto the edge of his bed, a mix of emotions swirling within him. “Fuck.” he muttered to himself, running a hand through his hair in frustration. The evening had taken an unexpected turn, and he felt a myriad of feelings—confusion, longing, and a sense of guilt for the connection that had formed between them.

Cecilia, meanwhile, made her way down the empty streets, her heart racing from the encounter. She replayed the events in her mind, each moment etched vividly in her memory. The way he had looked at her, the warmth of his touch, and the tension that crackled between them—it was all so intoxicating. Yet, a sense of apprehension gnawed at her. She knew the boundaries that should exist, yet the feelings she experienced were undeniable.

As she reached her home, she paused at the front door, taking a deep breath to steady herself. “What am I thinking?” she whispered to herself, shaking her head. She couldn’t help but wonder about their next meeting and the implications it might hold.

Inside, the atmosphere felt different—more subdued. Her parents were already settled in for the night, and as she tiptoed to her room, she felt a mix of excitement and trepidation. After closing her door, she leaned against it, trying to process the whirlwind of emotions.

She took a moment to reflect on her faith, her feelings for Father Charlie, and the complexities of their relationship. Yet, despite the confusion, one thought rang clear—she was drawn to him in a way she had never anticipated.

EXPLORE THE PREVIOUS CHAPTERS HERE🤍

Copyright © angelssmvse 2024 — I own only this story and some characters I have created, including Sister Cecilia Jones, Gwen Jones (Cecilia's sister), Lenny Jones (Cecilia's mother), and William Jones (Cecilia's father), among others. I give credit for the remaining content to the series "Grotesquerie" by Ryan Murphy. This is the only platform where I have published the story. Please do not copy or translate it without permission or proper attribution.

#fluff #short story #grotesquerie #father charlie smut #father charlie x reader #father charlie mayhew #charlie mayhew #nicholas chavez #nicholas alexander chavez #smut #father charlie grotesquerie

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faecaribou · 28 days ago

Note

on my knees asking for you to draw your interpretation of this

the whole team gets deaged by twenty years

most of them are a range of late teens to early thirties, but.

Scout and Sniper.

Spy gets a second chance at being Scout's dad + plus a bonus of raising Sniper too

Genuinely I could not get this out of my head. I spent hours on this and now literally every electronic i have is like at 4% battery and its 1 am. This is such a goated idea. Here are the mercs deaged, or what they would look like younger. I totally didnt have to google everyone's ages (visibly lying)

I feel like I did well with Heavy and Medic. They're the oldest in the group. Heavy when he was 26 was probably freshly dealing with escaping the gulag with his family. Visually I just got rid of his beard left him with the stubble though and gave him back his hair, which in the comics appears to be brown. For Medic, I think I spelt lisence wrong. Yeah there's a red line under it. Fuck. Whatever. I stole his muscles and also gave him back his hairline. Also, big glasses.

I'm going by age but I know what you want. Here's Spy. I wanted him to look as close to Scout as possible SO BAD but their noses are different and canonically his hair is much darker but I like to pretend the BLU Spy has that darker hair and RED Spy has more brown hair. Maybe someone's grandparents had blond hair (I swear I read a fic where Spy was like 'jeremy has my papas blond hair >m<') ANYWAY i dont think he's older than heavy and medic but also like. JEEZ. He just wanted to sleep with some MILFs or cougars he didnt expect children. L

The way that I'm actually obsessed with my own drawing for younger Engie. haiiiii. I feel like I would bump into him IRL on a college campus. Lowkey he reminds me of someone but I dont even know who.

I don't have much to say for Soldier and Pyro. I was getting some conflicting reports on Soldier's age so I just put him in the middle of the conflicting reports. He's probably already started his uh. killing rampage in Germany. I just deaged Pyro and left him in the same outfit because I dont actually have a fan design for Pyro outside the suit.

I gave Demoman the kilt and sash that his father's wearing in this one scene in the comics where there was like. A family photo of the DeGroot family. I definitely didnt study every single image of younger Demo in the comics. ha. ha. If I spent a million hours on just this drawing of Tav.

Side note, your ask totally reminded me of this fic https://archiveofourown.org/works/60095656 which is all the mercs deaged by like 25 years and Scout is literally like a year old and its great and I definitely did not leave 8 million comments on this fic (stares off into the distance)

I accidentally drew Sniper looking too young (right-most drawing) but honestly the smile with the missing tooth gave me life. aaaahhhh He really shouldve been drawn with a hat since he's out there in Australia but oops. I gave him his mullet back <3maybe he should be 7

finally, Jeremy. I definitely didn't originally decide he was 5 and then for the sake of my sanity when I think of Spy's agechange it to 4. Yeah

Heavy's too busy helping his mom raise his sisters. Don't give Medic kids. So yeah it's up to Spy to step up and take care of Mick alongside Jeremy.

Okay I think I will eventually reblog this post with more art but for right now I'm done with drawing and just going to type endless paragraphs and over nonsense thoughts

okay so they get de-aged. how??? i could take a page out of that fic i recommended and blame magic/merasmus. I feel like Respawn Machine malfunction is a pretty common trope for de-aging just one guy in fics but imagine it malfunctioned and now they're all de-aged. damnnnnn they lost that battle against BLU hard AND this happened? L

I imagine it's like. Logically they know who they are, they know each other, they know their jobs. But also it kinda feels like yesterday they were off in Russia/Australia/German/Boston doing their own things. The younger 3 are especially having this problem. No one's sure if Pyro understands whats going on.

They're all in their red team merc outfits btw for Pyro's sake. But for the drawings they've taken like. their weapons off and gotten in clothes that either fit better or are more comfortable.

Medic is all like "ooooh! interesting >:3" and definitely wants to open SOMEONE up but he's scaring the hoes (children) so him and Engineer kind of separate to go deal with the Respawn Machine. Engineer may have to call his dad for help at some point. He is going to hate it hahahahahaah >:)

Demoman and Soldier and Pyro are just like. Having the worlds most disjointed conversation. "ARE YOU AMERICAN?" "huddah huddah" "(super thick scottish accent)" no one is understanding anyone. Pyro pulls out paper and coloring pencils and they are just trying to furiously communicate through drawings

Scout is four and since he on some level remembers Spy as a kid when he's an adult, he definitely recognizes Spy as both his dad and as ...Spy. Cue crying.

Mick is kinda scared. He definitely tries to retreat to his camper van but no one's gonna let an 8 year old sleep out there by himself so he's resorted to hiding in his room on base, which he just kinda uses for storage, which is where he finds the slingshot. Anyone who opens the door to talk to him gets a rock to the face I don't make the rules. Okay well except for Scout he's not going to pelt a four year old with rocks. The mercs will use this hesitation to their advantage to get him

Spy takes his mask off. He doesn't want to, he doesn't like them looking at his face, it just makes Jeremy cry more, people are asking him how old he is, someone said he looks a lot like Scout.

He one-hundred percent sees this as like. His chance to actually be Jeremy's dad. He was too much of a coward the first time around and sometimes the guilt eats at him. Something something if Spy and Ma had a second child Spy would completely ignore Scout to fuss over the 2nd kid because it would be a clean slate that he hasn't ruined. WHAT WHO SAID THAT. Anyway the driving force that leads him to take his mask off and pick up that screaming kid is that this is his second chance. I imagine he got some practice in with some of Scout's brothers and with baby Scout so he's not the best dealing with a screaming 4 year old but he's not the worst.

After like. A few hours of getting Scout to calm down, they have now upgraded to Scout is really really quiet and visibly upset but he only screams and cries when Spy goes to grab him. Ultimately Jeremy thinks that they might get put back to normal and once he's older again Spy will abandon him again so he is NOT letting Spy pick him up without trying to bite him at least once. Spy is slowly earning his trust.

This is also the point where Spy realizes that Sniper is hiding in his room with the slingshot. After like 3 different mercs getting pelted with rocks in the face Spy realizes he has to step up and dad this kid too.

Scout sees Spy extend even one iota of patience or kindness toward Sniper and is torn between "oh he's actually trying" and "HES GOING TO CHOOSE SNIPER TO BE HIS SON INSTEAD OF ME"

wait I'm just creating more conflicts rather than resolving anything. fuck its 2 am. look the (he's not crying, YOU ARE!) hug drawing would be when Scout finally lets Spy give him a hug and it would be SO SATISFYING and the crowd stood up and clapped and after Jeremy starts hanging off of Spy like a limpet Spy also successfully gets Sniper to come out of the room. why did I write an entire plot am I going to write a fic. oh no please no I'm busy with the time travel noooooo

#any sort of fic that comes from this needs to be either #A) written by someone else #or B) you need to give me like 3 months. remind me in 3 months and I will definitely write something #deaged mercs #hmm. yeah that'll be my tag for it #tf2 #tf2 au #team fortress 2 #team fortress fanart #team fortress au #team fortress two #tf2 scout #tf2 spy #tf2 sniper #tf2 mercs #i am not standing around all day typing tags. rip #also that thing about Spy and Scouts Ma if they had a second kid. if anyone even tries to write a fic. or make art of that.#i will personally draw you getting beaten with hammers. that would be so evil dont do that. thats not even satisfying hurt/comfort

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rolfedewolfefan16 · 1 month ago

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Wolf in Sheep’s Clothing:

VILLAIN ROLFE AU OFFICIAL STORY

Chapter 1: “And you better stay out of here! I don’t want you in this house ever again!” Shouted his mother, as she grabbed him by the collar and threw him out the door along with a suitcase.

“I won’t! You’ll see, one day I’m gonna be rich and famous and I won't need your help!” Rolfe shouted back.

Rolfe always knew he wouldn’t stay in that house for long. Ever since his father got murdered, Rolfe’s family went into deep financial troubles leading to his older brother, Raul, to be the man of the house. Raul being 8 years older than Rolfe he thought of himself responsible for everything that went on at home. Raul took a habit of selling newspapers in the mornings, heading to school for a good 5 hours before leaving early to wash cars all afternoon. Rolfe took the role of cleaning shoes.

Raul would constantly give him a slap across the head for “not gaining enough money”. They’re mother worked as a waitress and would bring leftovers for dinner. The family of 3 had a system so it all seemed to work out. Raul was forced to grow up early and Rolfe never had a childhood. One day while cleaning shoes, Rolfe spotted a puppeteer out in the streets. He watched a crowd of smiling children and elderly couples gather around and laugh, tipping the man handsomely for his performance.

Suddenly Rolfe had an idea. He raced home and took a pair of old socks out of a drawer. He stuck googly eyes on them, drew on some mouths and stuck bunches of yarn on their heads. He took it upon himself to name them Sam and Sally. Now, everyday, Rolfe would come home and practice skits with them. In no time he took his acts to the streets.

“Knock Knock!” He made Sally ask.

“Who’s there?” asked Sam.

“Says,” said Sally.

“Says who?” Sam asked.

“Says me, moron!” Sally yelled. There was a good amount of laughter from the small crowd.

“Here ya go kid,” A middle aged man said, handing Rolfe a 20 dollar bill. Rolfe couldn’t believe it! With that amount of money he could easily buy more supplies for his puppets. But his moment of joy was quickly interrupted by a demanding voice.

“Rolfe! What the hell are you doing here!?” Raul asked, storming angrily towards him.

“Raul! Nothing I was just-” Rolfe began. Raul reached out and snatched one of his sock puppets.

“What is this?! Are you…doing gigs?” Raul asked.

“Is that why you're not bringing in enough money home!?” Raul snapped. He snatched the 20 dollar bill out of Rolfe’s hand.

“Hey, that’s mine!” Rolfe whined. Raul held the money up, far from Rolfe’s reach.

“Nah, I think it's better if I hold on to this. As for you, just you WAIT till we get home!” Raul snarled. He grabbed Rolfe by the wrist and dragged him along the sidewalk. Once they arrived, Raul threw Rolfe in the middle of the living room and began to scold him.

“What the hell is wrong with you!?” Raul shrieked.

“I just wanted to…I don’t know what I was thinking,” Rolfe sobbed.

“I’ll tell ya what you wanted. You wanted to make a fool of yourself and dishonor your family! Don’t you realize that without Dad we’re broke? Do you even have the slightest ounce of empathy towards mom?! Mom busts her back working day and night for us to have something to eat, I work my ass out and sacrifice my education for us to afford rent and buy clothes and drink water, and you, who’s only responsibility is to clean shoes, CLEAN SHOES! Can’t even do that without messing things up!” Raul screamed. Rolfe whimpered.

“I’m sorry Raul. But I’m only 8. I can’t do as much work as you can,” Rolfe explained. Raul scoffed.

“Oh yeah? Well I was only 11 when Dad died, and I had to sacrifice everything just to take care of you and mom! I’ve been working everyday since, so don’t you start complaining because I’ve given you everything, Rolfe!” Raul hollered. Rolfe sniffled.

“I just… I want to be a ventriloquist, Raul. It's my dream,” Rolfe blurted out. He quickly shut up as soon as Raul gave him a look of disbelief.

“Are you kidding me!? What didn’t you understand!? Your stupid dreams shouldn’t be an excuse to neglect this family! God you are so stupid! You wanna know something, Dad probably wouldn’t be dead if you were never born! All you’ve done was make my life and mom’s life harder! If you weren’t sick, Dad wouldn’t have had to come home early from the studio! That gang that murdered him wouldn’t have spotted him! Hell, we’d probably be rich right now! You're a walking mistake, Rolfe,” Raul roared, slapping him across the face with angry tears. Rolfe was now on the ground, weeping.

“ I HATE YOU!” Rolfe screamed! Raul grabbed him by the arm.

“Don’t you talk to me about hate, you little shit! Now go to your room and think about what you’ve done! And by tomorrow I expect all the money you owe us on the table!”

“What!? But where am I going to get all that money from?” Rolfe asked, wiping heavy tears off his face.

“Figure it out! And you better not use those ridiculous puppets to gain money, because that ain’t work!” Raul screamed. Rolfe slammed his door and began to cry. Rolfe knew it was wrong but perhaps the whole puppet thing could work after all. Rolfe took a notebook and began to write down his ideas. The following days, Rolfe has gained a handsome amount of money, sparing some for himself secretly, and handing the rest to his mother. Raul became jealous of Rolfe’s success, growing suspicious of his sudden luck. Rolfe kept his puppeteering acts a secret for years. Rolfe has managed to hide his hand made puppets in an old floor board and performed in various places like schools and hospitals.

“It’s Rolfe! It’s Rolfe!” Some kids cheered. Rolfe has become great friends with the many sick patients and insisted he’d do the acts for free but got paid anyway. Part of Rolfe liked the attention and the money, the other part felt guilty because he was still abandoning his duty for the sake of his potential career. But in his mind he thought it was fine as long as it got money on the table. Rolfe began to notice another thing. Rolfe’s mother would use the money to buy alcohol, cigarettes and pills. Rolfe tried his best to dump them all but his mother would storm around the house, looking for them in an anxious manner and throwing tantrums. His mother also stopped working all together and stayed at home sleeping while Raul took on a mechanics job. There was a lot of negative tension between them now, so Rolfe didn’t bother staying home much and instead spent his days at puppeteering or going to dance clubs to entertain himself.

“Hey! This is my favorite song! Wanna dance?” A hound asked Rolfe as she put her arms around his neck. Rolfe shoved her slightly.

“I’m not really in the mood…” He said, taking small sips of alcohol from a cup. The hound frowned.

“Oh, alright then. Are you okay?” She asked. Rolfe shrugged.

“There’s a lot of things going on right now at home and my brother is– Oh my god! My brother! He should be home by now! I’m going to get in so much trouble. I have to go!” Rolfe said, tossing the cup and struggling to grab his things. Before the hound could say anything else, Rolfe dashed past her and ran home. Rolfe found a pounding on his chest. His lungs burned and his legs felt heavy.

“Please don’t be here. Please don’t be here!” He begged racing to his house. But as soon as he saw his brother’s car he knew it was too late. Rolfe spoke a silent prayer and walked inside. He could hear Raul yelling at his mother.

“Where the hell is Rolfe!? He asked. She slurred her words.

“I don’t know…who’s Ralph” she spat.

“Damn you, you stupid bitch! You’re so drunk you can’t even remember who your own son is!” He snarled. He turned to look at Rolfe with vicious eyes.

“You! Where were you!?” Raul stopped short when he saw a puppet on Rolfe’s hand.

“You’re d…this whole time…the money you’ve brought home was because of-that?” Raul asked, a look of shock coating his face. Rolfe took a painful gulp and backed up.

“You sore gyp!” Raul yelled. Raul was about to hit Rolfe but Rolfe grabbed his fist.

“ I did what I could for this family! It’s not my fault that our sot of a mother chooses to stay home! And unlike you, Raul, I have a life and I choose to be the person I sought to be rather than stay in this dump of a house any longer!” Rolfe growled. Rolfe's mother got up and ran towards him and pushed him.

“How dare you abandon me, WolfMan!?” She cried, shaking Rolfe by his shirt tightly.

“Mom…my name’s Rolfe. It's me, your son or tell me, do you not remember who I am?” Rolfe asked, appalled.

“I- I don’t remember!” She sobbed, falling to her knees and crying. Rolfe gave Raul a worried look.

“I tried…to stop her from taking them…” He admitted, looking down shamefully. Rolfe managed to collect himself and walked to his room.

“Where are you going!?” His mother screamed. Rolfe darted her a look of surprise.

“To my room. I’m going to pack a bag and stay at a hotel until this mess sorts itself out,I’ve had it!” he bickered. She ran up the stairs and grabbed him by the ears.

“You ain’t leaving me! Not again! You have a family! How could you abandon your own wife!?” She squawked, drooling everywhere.

“For the last time, I’m not him! Let go of me!” Rolfe demanded.

“Fine then!” She said, She got his suitcase, threw whatever clothes he had laying around and dragged him down stairs.

“Wait, my puppets!” Rolfe exclaimed, trying to go back up stairs.

“You don’t need no damn puppets!” She scolded, taking the one he had in hand and ripping it to pieces. Rolfe let out a gasp and jumped at her.

“You witch! You ruined my life!” Rolfe snarled. Raul pulled them apart and opened the front door. Rolfe’s mother threw Rolfe out along with his suitcase.

“GET OUT!!!” She screeched….and that was how Rolfe got kicked out. Rolfe was now homeless, friendless and pretty much broke. What was he going to do, now?

#showbiz #rolfe dewolfe #rock afire explosion #villian au #alternate universe #short story

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goldsbitch · 1 year ago

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That one taxi drive

part 8 to That one Christmas flight

summary: Thanks for coming.

warning: pure angst this time and tiny smut (no minors), cheesy af, swear words I guess, cliche probably, typos most definitely

I managed to delete one full draft of this and I'm still not ok with it. Save your drafts, kids.

"Just be cool and act like you belong," was the last text Y/N received from Lando. It was meant more as an encouragement rather than anything else. He sensed from Y/N's hesitant replies that nerves were getting to her.

Y/N was supposed be with her father this week. Instead she was standing in yet another hotel lobby, this time in the middle of Barcelona. It was a strange feeling, her name being secretly listed on his room with the knowledge of the hotel staff and his assistant only. Adrenaline running high. Dirty little secret that had to be kept hidden away - now why was this turning her on?! She felt a bit like a hooker, bit like a fan and just a little bit like a girlfriend. Her and Lando were nowhere near the last option yet, but the thoughts had started creeping in lately in Y/N mind. They'd rarely go few hours without texting and few days without a facetiming. Lando was yet to come to his own room, as he had some media duties to fulfill. And there was no way he would greet her downstairs with the photographers waiting outside the entrance.

She waited at the counter, big glasses and big hat, clothes that she did not normally wear. It was all a little too intense around the official f1 hotel. Dirty little secret. She could have some fun with that. An overly annoyed receptionist lightly nodded once Y/N said her name. She felt some disapproving looks from the girl behind the counter. What was that - disgust? Nevertheless, she received a room card and a huge bouquet with a card.

"This was left for you, you will probably know from who," the receptionist was really not afraid to put in her own opinion, hidden in the way she spoke to Y/N, who found it quite amusing. Y/N panicked a bit. She and Lando both agreed that confidentiality was the top priority for the good of them both, so what the hell was this. Y/N shared one fake smile with the receptionist, grabbed both of the things and headed straight to the elevator, not wanting to hang around too long with a giant bouquet that drew attention.

"Wait miss, the breakfast starts at-" yelled the receptionist after her.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever, thanks," cut her off Y/N, thinking to herself how in the hell could such a prominent place have such tragic receptionist. Only once the elevator doors closed, she relaxed a bit and finally took a look at the flowers in her hands. It is hard to resist the power of a bouquet. Y/N never received one before from a guy, only from her grandpa, who was an old school gentleman. Smile crept to her previously serious face.

Card read "Thanks for coming" - and Y/N knew she'd be keeping it forever.

All her fluffy thoughts were sharply interrupted by the elevator floor opening at the first floor, extended lobby and conference rooms. Joining her in the elevator were two random people in different team attire, but Y/N attention was immediately caught by the one and only. Oh, and his teammate. Brilliant. It took Lando less than a millisecond to recognize her. One smile sneaked in before he came back to his senses and regained control of his face and gestures. Their eyes locked. Y/N's body shifted. She became anything but relaxed. Lando was in a middle of a conversation with Oscar and had to ask him to repeat his last point after getting over his initial shock. They all entered and Y/N paid attention into which floors they were heading. Oscar was the only one heading to the same flood and Lando and her.

Oscar was blabbering unusually today and was not planning on stopping it. Lando could care less. She was right there. He wanted to kiss her so badly, Oscar and all the others be damned. He would love to comment on the hat. He would kill for taking her by her waist and biting her lip just a little bit. It's been a little too long since Italy for impatient Lando. Their looks met for what must have been the seventieth time during this elevator ride. Lando shot her one quick cheeky smile, which almost broke Y/N. You could cut the tension between them with a kitchen knife. The longest elevator ride in the history of elevator rides.

"Oh yeah, and why do you think that is?" he tried to trick Oscar into talking so that he could shut off. Elevator stopped, people left, leaving the trio in elevator alone.

Y/N was panicking for real this time. It would be too obvious to get of at the same floor as they would, right? There must have been very few rooms on the very top. A decision was made and she pressed the button leading to the floor below that. Her awkward movement caught attention of the second McLaren driver for a moment. She smiled awkwardly and avoided any additional contact. Lando was a bit confused by her actions, his impatience growing by the second. She confidently got off one floor than she was supposed to go, leaving Lando bewildered. He and Oscar continued upstairs.

"I think we need to talk more about how to approach the engineers together, Lando. Do you have time now?" Lando had lots of things right now and time for his teammate was not one of those.

"No, sorry man. Gotta prep....Oh, and I forgot something downstairs. Stupid head today," he mumbled, went back to the elevator and waved at Oscar while pushing the button as Y/N had.

The door opened. Lando and Y/N's looks met once again, this time with no prying eyes.

"Got lost?" Lando remarked.

"Just wanted to avoid Oscar. He's not my favorite McLaren driver."

"Oh. That brings up a question who is your favorite driver out of all of the teams."

She smirked and walked all the way to him. Lando hit the elevator button and bit her upper lip. Then he kissed her so deeply one would think it was impossible to untangle them apart again. Y/N melted in his embrace. Any all thought leaving her mind leaving her completely locked in the present moment. Shame that elevator rides had to end sometime.

They left the elevator checking all the hallways for any people passing by.

"Thank you for the flowers and the card," Y/N chatted casually.

"Ha, the card needs to be deserved though," smiled Lando like a teenage boy.

"Does it now?" she asked.

"Uhm...You get to keep that only if you come," he continued with a wink. Her cheeks went red.

She could not help but objectify his body quietly. As summer approached, he had more of a tan, highlighting his toned muscles. They reached his suite quietly, she walked past him, exploring the way light hit the back of his neck. His hair in perfect disheveled state. There are just some details that can't a Facetime call does not catch.

The room was in complete stillness in contrast to the buzz of the hotel lobby. Lando was nervous in the best way possible. She was here. To be with him, to watch him race and he only wanted to make her proud. And satisfied. He let her walk to explore the place, admiring her from behind the same way she had just second ago. Y/N heart went to normal heartbeat once they were finally alone and together. Which was the precise moment when Lando's went up. Her perfume filled the room and he knew he'd be secretly checking out the brand and take a note of it. It felt strangely familiar and other-worldly at the same time. As she stood by the large window, Lando noticed the strap slipping down her shoulder. How was he supposed to stay still? He approached her and hugged her softly from behind, kissing the shoulder which called for him. He felt proud when her he saw the goosebumps he created.

"Like what you see?" he whispered to her ear and bit it lightly. Y/N felt like he had a talent for finding all the secret spots on her body.

"I like what I feel," she sighed and closed her eyes.

"This is merely a starter," he smiled to his kiss.

"I have airport sweat all over me. Would mind helping me wash up?"

His voice went really up with excitement escaping his body. "I would mind being excluded from that, honey."

The shower would have been big enough for five people. But Lando and Y/N stood so close to each other you'd think there was room barely for one of them. He had undressed her painfully slowly, enjoying the hungry look she obviously could not control. Whenever she reached for his own McLaren shirt, he'd reply with something along the lines "Ladies first." Y/N really wanted to look him in the eyes, but how was she supposed when the water falling on his skin made it all wet and shiny. She reached for his shower gel and rubbed it on his chest, making a detailed map of his muscles to imprint in her memory. There was nothing to hide, she felt Lando's erection pushing on her body. He was in a particularly raw mood ever since he saw her today, built up energy coming out. No time for sweet gestures. His left hand gripped her ass and the right one traced the the line from her boobs, squeezed her nipple just a little harder than ever before and it was sending Y/N to a different dimension. Somehow, he got even closer to her than before, pushing her until she was pressed against the shower wall. Water mixed with saliva when their tongues touched and they both got lost in each other. Her hand in his hair and his pressing her neck like nobody who would call her a friend would. She could come right then and there. It was passion mixing with supressed feelings, both of them being really honest only when they did not speak. He squeezed her ass again and pulled her legs up and around his on waist. She opened her eyes only to meet his hungry look. She sensed a question and without needing to hear it being asked she nodded in agreement. He was strong enough to give her full support and felt a little too proud when he saw her give in completely in his direction. He was slow when he first entered her, giving her time to adjust, making sure he was careful enough to keep going. It was a relief to feel him inside, finally after some many wishful nights. Once you taste the sweetest candy, it's impossible to go back to the usual stuff. And together, they were the premium shit. Lando soon found a steady rhytm and her soft moans echoed through the bathroom. She fell completely into his embrace, letting him lead and do anything he wanted - because his instinct was apparently set on the exact setting designed for her body. He wished she hadn't heard his phone ring. And in a way she did too. But he felt her body tensing with every beat of his ringtone. "Lando..." she said in a tone that suggested that the moment was over.

"Just a moment more, honey," he pleaded. Seven thousand moments was what he was really asking.

"We can't...you need to be at places." He did not give a shit - but she did, so he stopped. For a moment they were both catching up with their breath. She smiled at him and kissed him. Lando's erection was not going away easily. "We'll finish later," she promised.

He smiled into their kiss: "Don't think you'll get away so easily next time." Their shared last look, before he reluctantly left the shower, cursing his PR manager who just had to book another interview for this afternoon. It got real quiet for Y/N right after he left. She stood in the shower for sometime, gathering up her thoughs. She has had some pretty stressful couple of days finishing her course and had some deadlines to meet. Managed to get everything in check for the end of the year, but every free minute she had was occupied by the guy, who just left minutes after she came to see him. All of a sudden, it was hard to feel excited about this whole thing. Yes. She understood, or at least tried, the level of responsibility he held. Hell, she even told him to go work. So why where was this irational come down coming from?

She left the hotel room hoping she picked a time when most of the crew would already be working and headed to the grid in time for qualifying. They'd agreed that normal VIP pass would be the right decision at this stage, no paddock or McLaren base. It all seemed just a little too intimidating. NDA was sent to Y/N email for her to sign the minute she jumped on the plane. She signed it with a strange bitter feeling in her stomach once Lando left their room, still not sure how she felt about it, not sure if the fact this had been dealt with completely by his assistant, instead of him bringing it up, was alienating her. So she sat on the grandstand, alone once again. Only this time it hurt just a bit more to sit there by herself. It was all or nothing with Lando. Up and down. Stale than suddenly full speed. Don't be seen. Don't stand out. Don't be crushing so obviously. She gathered intrusive thoughts who kept her company while people around her screamed with joy and anger depending on the situation. She never expected to feel to strange in Barcelona. Hell, she'd been looking forward to it for days, so why was it like this?

Lando was over the moon and head over heels. Everything clicked - his car, the team and Y/N was watching him from right here in on the track. He felt proud. Showing off was his normal personality trait, but that had skyrocketed this week to abnormal heights. There was just something in the air making life intoxicating. He was handing out smiles as it if was oxygen and the crowds absorbed as if their life depended on it. He took all he had and gave everything to the quali. Got in the zone and the wind flew in his direction.

"P1, Lando, P1. Congrats." were dry words his engineer said as soon as everything was set. Lando could carry the whole team excitement wise in that moment, so he didn't need encouragement from him. "Yes!!! Yes, baby, Yes, here we go! I can't believe it!" He beat them all. An achievement he needed so much after all that hard work. P1 meant at least a chance of a podium. He was quick and a good driver - and he finally believed it again.

Y/N wondered for a moment if this was what if felt like being dead. Watching and not interfering. She immediately slapped herself mentally for being so overly dramatic. Just like Lando, she also had big dreams of her future and it felt like a privilege to be there to see her crush crushing his. No, this was crazy, she was overhelmed by the energy the crowds around produced and by the obvious joy that streamed out of Lando during post race interview. She chucked and yelled a loud "Oh come on!" when he said that that the result was great, but the real battle was tomorrow. If only he could stop sometimes for a moment and enjoy it while it lasted, she thought. There was just a tiny tiny part of her, that wished this had happened the race before. Just so that she could have more time with. Surely he was suppose to have meetings and getting ready and stuff. Not exactly an envinroment for late night fucks and talks.

He joined her in his hotel room later that evening. Overjoyed, excited, slightly nervous and repeating his jokes about Leclerc 2023 season and how he will surely follow his steps a bit too much. Y/N sat there, listening and having Lando explain to her the whole deal, as she was quite new to this stuff. He was wrapped in his own head, for very obvious reasons. Y/N felt as if he was and also was not there at the same time. She was quiet and let her anxiety out only once he fell asleep. Honestly, what was the point of her being here. The unspoken hope about their potential future she held deep inside was slowly slipping away. She felt selfish, hated herself for it and yet knew her needs were valid. The initial excitement with which she arrived here leaving like a long distance friend on a Sunday afternoon. Lando's mind would usually run wild before a race. This time it was Y/N. She was happy to be the one to share his afternoon and night. Her skin just crawled when the thought that this was just a casual hook up for him entered her mind. Who was the one keeping him company on the next race?

Once Lando kissed he goodbye and quickly left for his pre race work, she buried herself in her phone, doomscrolling endlessly. At one point she debated not going to the race. Nobody would notice. But she would feel like an absolute idiot if she stayed there. What exactly were the expectation coming here? That he would have all the time for her? She picked herself up and went, now really wanted to slap herself. She was in Barcelona on a F1 race for god sake.

Once again she went and this time tried to sink in the atmosphere of the grandstands and focus less on what might be happening in the paddock and around Lando. When she opened up more the the world around, the world responded and threw a group of young Spanish fans in her way. They took her as her own - and there was no one to complain that she spend her time at the race with Alonso fans.

Podium. Podium when he knew that she was there watching. Was there more to wish for? His team surrounded him overjoyed, the fans were ecstatic and ever the journalists seemed to be on his side for this once. There was a post race interview, then Netflix and lots of autographs. Lando felt truly rewarded for all the hard work he put into his racing. The team insisted on Lando joining them at the club, it would have probably been impossible to avoid it, they were determined to celebrate. He barely found a moment to breathe - let alone check his phone, where a celebratory text from Y/N was sitting among 70 other texts.

Minutes turned into hours and usually patient Y/N was losing it. There was nothing else for her to do than join her newly found pack at the bar in the city, where they continued after the race. They were typically Spanish in their ways, so the energy was high and contagious. She shared her frustrations without revealing Lando's identity, because she just had to get it out somehow. Two shots was the maximum she allowed herself in order not to start drunk calling and throwing away her last piece of dignity she felt towards herself.

"I don't wanna know. I don't need to see him on instagram wrapped around someone else. Just tell me if he texts me back," she said and handed her phone to one of the girls, the one that seemed to get it the most.

It was intoxicating to watch his usually stressed teammates and crew finally relaxed and happy. He'd been at the team for a good chuck of years now, these people were family. Few times during the night a thought entered Lando's mind. He should have just brought Y/N here. It would have been fine. So there would be some headline tomorrow. Then his memories of his exes crying at the horrific comments his "so called fans" were capable of leaving nonstop. He read her text after three or something hours, not making anything out of his response time, deciding to wait for a proper quiet moment to record a voice message.

"I only smoke when I want to feel bad," she laugher while sharing a cigarette outside the bar filled with singing people.

"Chica, you have a voice message!" her designated phone guardian exclaimed. Received 28 minutes ago. Great.

She listened to the message for two times, having trouble deciding whether she felt happy or angry. Nothing personal, nothing specific, just a happy Lando talking in the same tone he uses for interviews, she watched him enough to see the difference, asking about her whereabouts, making it sound like he just assumed that she is back at the hotel. His James Dean smile felt bitter in her memory. Her own joy that she felt when listening to his voice was the thing making her mad. He just had such an upper hand.

She took a few minutes to reply. Why the hell not. "I'm in the centre of Barcelona with some people." was the only thing she wrote. Her dirty little secret fantasy turned out to be sad undermining dream. She was leaving tomorrow evening and felt as if Lando hadn't even asked her how she was doing in the two days she'd been here. Somehow, she felt further from him than when there were miles and oceans between them.

It's hard to tell the note from a text sometimes, but Lando has shared hundreds of texts with this girl. So he knew something was up.

"Can I come and see you?" he asked straightforward.

"If you want to...but there are like people here, so..?" she replied after another pause and sent her location.

The taxi drive dragged for minutes and Lando sighed demonstratively to let his annoyance out of the system, having little to no care of what the driver thought of him.

"I'm right outside the bar, in the alleyway," he finally sent once he arrived and got a photo of his POV. She took her time, letting him evaluate what had been happening even more. Was the magic gone? Did she stopped caring? Or worse, did she never start?

He was not exactly relieved when he spotted her coming his way. There was an uncharacteristically strange look on her face.

"Hey," she said with no clear emotion for Lando to read.

"Hey," he replied passively and carefully.

"Congrats again," she said quietly. "Sorry I dragged you out of the party," she said honestly. There was a sudden wave of guilt making her feel very small. She stopped unusually far away from Lando, not exactly where a person who has shared his bed that night would. They stood far away from crowds, but blended perfectly into the street life scenery. Just a guy and a girl.

"Is everything like, alright?"

"I don't know. It's just...guess I find it harder to stay behind and pretend I don't know you than I thought I would," she managed to slowly voice her biggest concern. There was a part of her that was proud for that.

"Ok. I'm sorry it's so unfortunate. I guess I act a little different when I'm afraid of being watched." She had to admit he was right, it he had stepped out of the alleyway, there would be a crowd immediately. that must have been really suffocating at times.

"No, you don't have to say you're sorry or anything. I get it. I'm a regular girl, just some student. No model or a daughter of a driver or whatever. I obviously don't fit into your life. It would be crazy of me to assume that anyway. And I got carried away with my little crush on you. It's my own expectations that let me down, not you or anything. I get it, I just need some time to process and get over it." Her voice was sweet and honest with no other undertones. He had not seen this emotion on her face before. He found it fascinating that the more he saw her, the more types of expressions he was allowed to observe.

In that moment, Lando was more than sure of where he wanted the conversation to go. There wasn't a thing that would make his second guess. This realization makes one nonchalantly braver than usual. "But I don't want you to get over it. The last you are to me is ordinary. Or some fucking shit like that." The concept of her thinking this was really fucking up his own head.

"Lando, I can see this thing we do is making me someone I don't want to be. An insecure sucker for a drop of your attention. It's honestly embarassing," she stated. "I like Lando, don't give a fuck that you happen to be Lando Norris."

He was shocked how she managed to hit him where it hurt without even realizing it.

"But that's the thing. I'm obsessed with you. Me, Lando. But Lando Norris does not leave when you enter the room. I know the price of that better than anyone and I just want to protect you for as long as I can. The thing I'd love to do the most is to introduce you to my friends and definitely not talk to them about how amazing time I have when I'm with you."

Y/N took a moment to take in what he was trying to say to her. She was took busy getting through her own thoughts that she almost did not listen to his. Lando took a step closer to her, knowing that if he fucks this up, they will hardly see each other again. There was no room for any cat and mouse games. Destiny set them up for the level hard. It's not like they will bump into each other in the paddock.

"I want to enjoy what we have in private for as long as we can. I want to get to know you and have the space to do so. I'm terrified of someone giving you any hate," he whispered. Y/N has probably never felt as stupid as she had then.

"I don't know why I'm so weird. And overreacting."

"You're not," he said firmly, kicking himself mentally for not taking more of an effort when he had her here. "I'm sorry for neglecting you. And for hiding you. It's definitely not because I find you not enough," he said, disgusted with the word enough leaving his mouth.

Once some barriers are broken, it's impossible to take a step back.

"We don't need to parade around, Lando. I get what you're saying and all," she said.

"Yes. Not until we both feel ready, if that's ok."

"Great, " she smile. There was silence for a moment. Lando's mind was suddenly clear as a day.

"Y/N. I want to see you again. And more often. Not as a fuck buddy or a special friend. How do you feel about that?"

"Like what...like dating or something?"

"No," he smiled, seeing how it made her all awkward and tight. "Not something. Proper full on dating, all in. Let it flow and see where we end up." It was like a weight she had no idea she carried lifter of her.

"Yes," she replied and bit her lip to hide her excitement.

He smiled back. "Ok, honey". With that he kissed his newly found girlfriend. New set of slightly different butterflies entered the chat.

"So I guess I'll have to change your contact name, huh?" he asked with his signature cheeky grin.

"To what?"

"How did you put it, sucker for my attention?"

She hit him playfully and he responded with another kiss.

epilogue p1

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Tagged all those who like to suffer: @prudyhoo @anuksunamon @sagestack @esquerkaren @ushygushybaby @ilove-tswizzle @thehufflepuffavenger1 @superlegend216 @mehrmonga @lovely-blackinnon @mylifeihate1029 @lausdigitaldiary @tswizzleismother @goldenharrysworld @llando4norris @classiclitfreak @ophcelia @leclerc13 @starmanv @k4r1402 @biitch-with-wifi @drunk-teens-doing-drugs @starmanv @formulaal

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