#I wanted to gif from this again cause I'm not happy with the coloring on the other set I did | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kingkat12 · 1 month ago

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chasing sleep (roman godfrey x reader)

WARNINGS: 18+, piv sex, morning sex, attempting-to-stay-quiet sex, Roman loves tits (oops), reader on top, dub-con elements, needle-gate is back lol, dark!Roman returns, fluff, angst, and reader is fucking brainwashed cause girl stand up for yourself wdym

summary: everything seems to be going perfect for you-- you've got the guy, after all. however, you're still haunted by the life you gave away to be with him, and specifically, the girl you left behind. will Roman ever fully trust that you won't leave him?

word count: 11,308 (merry christmas tihi)

PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5, PART 6, PART 7, PART 8, PART 9, PART 10, PART 11, PART 12

a/n: celebrating 700 followers AND christmas with this monster of a chapter!! I love all of you, thank you once again for your amazing support, I LOVE YOU!! this fanfic is nearing the end now, so... hold on tight for what's about to come;) ENJOY, MWAH<3

"You didn't say goodbye, and now a part of me believes that means you're coming back,"

Over and over again, those words echoed in my ears. I had read it in a passage somewhere, probably in the new romance novel I had picked up a few days ago, and now it truly haunted me. Latched onto my guilt, my love, my very being-- I wasn't sure whether I was capable of letting it all go, despite how happy Roman made me.

Was that maybe why I ended up right here, right now?

"Do you think it could work again?" Letha echoed, turning to me. Her legs were dangling off my roof as we sat by the edge. A soft breeze moved her long, blonde hair away from her shoulders, and just like that, I was reminded of how truly beautiful she was. It must be a genetic thing for all the Godfreys to be breathtaking. However, the look in Letha's green eyes told me something was wrong, but I couldn't put my finger on it. It was almost as though I was looking back at her with a grey-ish filter, like my vision was making it seem like we were sitting in a cloud of fog. None of this looked real.

"What could?" I asked, turning to check my surroundings-- yeah, this was definitely my roof. Why were we here?

"Us," Letha's gaze awaited me as I faced her again, and it was heartbreakingly sad. "You and I. Our friendship."

It felt like I had dipped the tips of my fingers in cold water. "Letha... Come on," I reached for her hand, placing mine above hers with a sigh; "This ended a long time ago. I don't think we can salvage this--"

"But what if we could?" Letha's voice was so painfully sweet, so insistent. "Do you think it could work again?"

"What could?"

"Us," she breathed, turning her hand to intertwine our fingers with an unusually hard grip. It didn't feel so sweet anymore. "You and I. Our friendship."

The red lights in my mind went off like police sirens-- something was off. With my next glance at her hair, it was no longer that same warm shade of blonde. Now, I could argue it was actively turning white before my eyes.

This wasn't real. "Letha?"

"Yes?"

"... Am I dreaming?"

Letha's eyes softened as the green in them dulled down, bordering a bleak color of grey. "Yes," she said. "I'm looping it until you're honest."

"What do you mean?--"

"You'll wake up when you tell me the truth. If you want to help your subconscious let go of the guilt, you should do it,"

My heart was actively breaking. Looking into Letha's blank eyes, I realized it reminded me of the look she had on her face when I first told her about Roman and me. "Ask, then,"

I could see her emotions clutching her soul like an unforgiving fist despite this only being a dream. My head didn't have any problems conjuring the image of her as a kicked, wounded puppy. She spoke; "Do you think it could work again?"

I indulged with a soft sigh; "What could, Letha?"

"Us," she said, allowing tears to well in her eyes. "You and I. Our friendship."

I felt it truly, brutally, that I didn't know what to say. I didn't know if it would break me to be honest. "I can't leave Roman for you," I breathed. "I won't. So I doubt you and I could be friends again as long as I'm still with him."

Letha nodded, turning away to look up at the full moon above us. The hand she had in mine was starting to turn cold. "Do you think it could work again?"

Oh, she was asking again-- was my answer maybe not the truth? Not the right answer? Did my sleeping subconscious know? "What could?" I echoed, growing tired of the loop we were caught in.

"Us," Letha closed her eyes as her chest raised and fell with her shallow breaths. "You and I. Our friendship."

I decided to give it less thought-- that was the key, sometimes. Roman had taught me that. Could it? Could it truly? "Honestly?"

"Honestly,"

It didn't take long before I realized tears were threatening to spill from my eyes too. I had missed the smell of Letha's sweet perfume. It smelled like home and a comforting hug hello. "Yeah. I think it could work," It was weird to hear me say it out loud; "I was always in love with Roman, but you... You taught me how to love in the first place. If we could both forgive each other, I think we'd have a chance. Yet... I don't think I ever can. Fully."

Letha didn't open her eyes, barely moved an inch. She opted for a short, melancholic nod as her lower lip gave in to a tremble. "I'm afraid I'll miss you forever," she whispered, mostly to herself.

And suddenly, I couldn't feel the weight of her hand in mine. My gaze darted down to what was previously our union, only to find that she wasn't there anymore. I looked up to find a slow line of evaporating smoke, similar to a trail coming from Roman's cinnamon cigarettes.

With my next heave of air accompanied by a lonely tear rolling down my cheek, I allowed my hand to reach out to touch the fog. It was thick, and it prickled the tips of my fingers to the likes of a cactus-- my sorrow clouded my instincts, and I didn't retract my hand. I hadn't allowed myself to feel any of this, after all. I had been so wrapped up in Roman, so wrapped up in the new feelings that washed over my body, that I had buried all the old ones.

However, Letha kept her promise-- I was released.

Released from the loop, but with one foot remaining in the quicksand of guilt.

And as I awoke, it felt like I had been thrown into a cold pond. With a quick breath, I arched off the bed, gasping; "Roman!"

Frantic beyond words, I heaved for air, blinking rapidly to wake myself up. The morning sun shone through Roman's curtains with soft rays, and I was hit with the smell of a burnt candle. Still hyperventilating, I put a hand on my chest as I tried to turn around, but to no avail.

Why couldn't I move? Was I maybe still stuck in the dream?

Oh, wait-- It was at this moment that I realized I had a heavy arm around me, keeping me still with my back pressed up against human warmth.

I let out a shaky breath, a relieved smile spreading across my lips-- Roman.

My panic gradually subsided, washing away with calm waves as I turned my head to look at him. The sun did him good. Roman's hair was a very specific shade of brown, but in the sun, it had twinges of orange and golden hues. If I were to ever bring it up to him, I know he'd protest and say he was nowhere near ginger. He wasn't, and I was aware of that; as usual, he wouldn't get the point.

After some careful maneuvering, I managed to turn in Roman's heavy embrace, facing him. His plush lips were gently parted, and his long, brown lashes weighed over his eyes-- he also had a rather hefty case of bedhead which I couldn't help but find beyond endearing. Up close like this, completely still, I could see the nearly invisible freckles painting the apples of his cheeks, study the curve of his upper lip, and the scar-like indent on his right cheek. I dared to trace my thumb over it, feeling the softness of Roman's skin against the pad of my finger-- this was beauty unmatched.

He was so beautiful.

And he was mine.

With the gentlest of pressures, I leaned forward, barely brushing my lips across Roman's. I didn't dare to fully kiss him. I wouldn't dare to wake him up. If only we could lay like this forever, undisturbed and alone.

Forever.

Memories of last night swarmed my brain, pushing out all the memories of Letha's sad, green eyes. I smiled as I realized the ache between my legs hadn't subsided-- the sting remained. It had actually happened. I hadn't made it all up. And I would've stayed engulfed in my cloud of complete and utter awe if Roman hadn't nearly scared the living crap out of me with the following.

His voice was raw with sleep as his eyes remained closed; "It's rude to stare,"

I practically arched right off the bed again. Had Roman not had his arms around me in a deadweight hold, I was sure I'd have flown right down to the floor. "Christ!" I hissed, shocked. How had he known? "Sorry... Did I wake you?"

Roman seemed too sleepy to grant me a proper answer, and he settled for a short grunt; "Sleep,"

"It's already morning!--"

"Don't care. Sleep," With his next breath, he pulled me even closer, until the tips of our noses were touching.

I was almost glad Roman's eyes were closed. At least he didn't see the hefty blush creeping up my cheeks. It dawned on me that he maybe had a point-- we had never had the pleasure of having nowhere to be, with no one to wake us up, or school to go to.

There was one thing I wanted to say, but I was scared he'd get upset at my use of words-- no, fuck it; "You're so pretty," I whispered, reaching up to brush my fingers over the tips of his long, long lashes. "You can't expect me not to stare when you look like this."

Roman's brows drew together, yet he allowed me to do as I pleased in his sleepy state. "I'm not pretty,"

Knew it. "Yeah, you are,"

"Just go to sleep,"

"You're unbelievably pretty,"

"... Please just sleep,"

I was aware that I was annoying him, but something about the way his voice got all harsh in the morning made me want to hear him more. Roman's breath fanned over the skin at the tip of my nose with the gentlest breeze as I sighed against his lips; God, how I loved him. "I don't want to sleep... but I can lay here with you, if you want,"

Roman hummed, the dark rumble in his chest nearly vibrating the bed in the process. "Just don't go anywhere,"

"I won't,"

"Ever,"

"I won't,"

With Roman's next breath, I knew he finally believed me-- finally. It hit him for the first time last night that I wasn't lying when I said I wasn't going anywhere, and it hit him again now. Forever was a dead serious plan of mine, and I was intent on making him understand that no matter what. "You're prettier," he eventually said, nudging my nose with his. "You're like the first pleasant sip of water after you've recovered from a sore throat."

"... Specific,"

Roman let out a short, annoyed groan; "Sleep,"

I didn't want to sleep. I didn't want to possibly face Letha again. With my palms against Roman's soft cheeks, I placed a loving kiss against his parted lips, feeling him sigh into me. "Good morning, Rome,"

He smiled, fulfilled, as though he couldn't hold it back anymore; "Good morning, baby,"

"Did you at least sleep well?--"

"Sleep!"

"... But I really don't want to,"

With another sigh, Roman stirred, pulling me closer to press a lazy kiss to my jaw. "Either you go back to sleep, or we fuck. You gotta give me something to work with, here,"

I stilled. "That's... not a bad idea,"

Roman's classic smirk illuminated my morning. "Turn around, then,"

"Huh?--"

"Trust me,"

Sometimes, when I was lonely, before everything with Roman, I used to kiss the skin between my knuckles and imagine someone else was kissing me. The small sounds, and the tingling sensation pooling in my stomach, would distract me from the unbearable feeling of loneliness. The reality of it.

Which is why, when Roman brought my hand to his mouth, pressing his lips to my knuckles before turning me around, I knew I wasn't alone.

Actually, it wasn't just that that showed me I wasn't-- the repeated strokes of Roman's cock filling me was certainly reminder enough.

It was that sort of lazy morning sex I had only read about in those odd novels my mom would hide around the house, or heard about from my friends which I no longer had. This was a different type of sex from yesterday's, which had been so highly connected and emotional-- and this was not to say that this right now wasn't both connected and emotional, but it was... comforting. Like we were taking joy in being able to do just this. To enjoy one another in a sleepy, slow form.

Roman's grip around my throat wasn't hard or choking-- it was more of a hold to keep me in place as he let out a breathy grunt against my shoulder, sinking into me with slow, lazy strokes from behind. "We should do this more often," Roman murmured against my ear, listening to my small whimpers. "Isn't this fun?"

I could hear his stupidly pretty smile. Fucking Romy Schneider. "What, sex?" Obviously?

Roman's deep laugh against my ear nearly had me shuddering; "In the morning," he purred.

"That's gonna be-- hard," My last words were cut off by the hitch of my breath. This felt too good. "Parents and-- and all." It was true, though. How were we supposed to do this with our parents in the house? I doubted Roman's mom was out on business trips all the time, anyway.

With a small huff, I was pulled even tighter to his chest, almost as a reprimand-- I had no idea why it made my cheeks burn. "You'll learn to be quiet," Roman breathed, kissing up the shell of my ear. "Right?"

"I--"

"You'll be a good little girl for me and be quiet, hm?"

And just as I was about to protest, to remind him it was probably a little rude to have sex with other people in the house (I had no idea actually, was there no etiquette to it?), the hand Roman had around my waist slid between my legs, coaxing them further apart. All my thoughts of having a proper conversation went out the window the second he pressed two fingers to my clit, circling it as his kisses moved to the skin between my ear and my jaw.

It was impossible not to give in to the feeling; Roman was intoxicating. I whimpered with the next brush of his cock against my sweet spot, the different sensations dulling my brain with every thrust-- "Yeah,"

Roman let out a hum of approval; "Just for me?"

"Only-- Only you,"

I could practically feel him melt against me. "That's my girl,"

It was an oddity how much Roman enjoyed the sound of it. How much he enjoyed knowing he finally had a companion in the world. I could feel his cock twitch inside of me with the reminder, with the need to become one.

Because at the end of the day, that's what we were now.

We were one.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

The next day at school was the easiest day to handle in a while. It didn't matter that people were staring, that my reputation was still tarnished, because I finally felt the stream of love floating my way that I had been craving my whole life.

"You need to start zipping this up," Roman huffed, reaching for the zipper of my jacket. He pulled me closer to the railing he was sitting on by the school entrance, shaking his head. "It's getting cold. Don't be stupid." This was a new level of intimacy. The quiet moments, the small, shared moments of care. He was almost annoyed that I hadn't done it myself, that I hadn't thought to take care of myself, thoughtless little girl.

I loved it when he got protective like this. Absolutely adored it. It only reminded me of how much I loved him, and consequently, how I couldn't tell him.

I glanced at Peter, who sat next to Roman, and held back a snicker. I could bet about a hundred dollars that he had never seen his best friend so ridiculously protective before. "She's not twelve," he tried, nudging Roman's shoulder, earning a displeased grunt.

Oh, of course Peter didn't get it. Roman Godfrey, sweetly zipping up my jacket-- the simplest of all things. Nonetheless, it brought a twinge of scarlet to my cheeks as I spotted a group of cheerleaders passing us on the way to the school entrance; the looks of seething jealousy in their eyes only brought me joy. A part of me wanted the sight of Roman being sweet to leave them with a feeling of pure agony. I wanted them all to suffer. Always. For their heads to be bashed in like Jasmine nearly did to herself into her locker; I wished it upon them. On them all.

... I needed to snap out of this.

Roman had been right-- it was getting chilly in Hemlock Grove. I shivered when he finished buttoning my buttons, smiling down at him where he sat with Peter, glad none of them could read my thoughts. I wondered whether Roman would be horrified or... comforted by the fact that I was capable of wishing cruelty upon others, just like him.

It didn't matter. None of it did. Especially not now that he was looking up at me with those big, green eyes of his with his hands tucked into his jacket, looking handsome as ever. From this angle, Roman's shoulders were almost broader, and the more I thought about his physique, the more I thought about last night when he was completely undressed.

Completely undressed, on top of me, loving me.

... Loving me.

If only he did.

Fuck-- I couldn't think about that right now. The need to draw him in and have him all over again would overcome me soon, and I needed to push it down. It would be quite unfortunate if I started acting like a cat in heat every time I saw him from now on. "I need to get to class," I said, keeping my hands to myself despite how much I wanted to run them through Roman's hair.

His eyes softened as he scanned me, jacket fully zipped up and all. "What do you have now?" he asked, now toying with the fabric of my pockets.

"Math, sadly,"

Peter looked like he couldn't wait to escape the tension that ensued the two of us being in such close proximity. "Oh, right," Peter muttered, clicking his tongue against his palate as he sat back on the banister. "Math, second period... With Letha, right?"

The name was enough to make me freeze, and just for a second, it felt like the air got colder. I was sure I might've even flinched. The image of Letha in my dreams, white as though drained of blood, clouded my vision as my heart started to thump painfully. Why was I reacting like this?

Also, Roman looked like he had been greatly offended by something. With furrowed brows, he sat back and sent Peter a look of what the fuck. "How do you even know that?" he muttered, reaching one arm forward to drag me closer by my waist, his eyes not leaving Peter's to scan his every minuscule reaction.

I was relieved by Roman's touch-- my fingers dipped into the short hair at the nape of his neck, unsure what was happening.

On the other hand, Peter seemed to have a hard time recovering from what I could only guess was a slip-up. "I don't know," he said, shrugging as his eyes shied away. "I just remember it, I guess."

Roman snapped; "Why?"

Okay-- I didn't want to be here for this conversation. I couldn't hear more about Letha, not after my cryptic dream. It didn't make matters any better that Peter was right, and that I would see her in my next class. I stopped playing with Roman's hair, placing a short kiss to the top of his head; "I'm heading off," I mumbled, nodding shortly to Peter before excusing myself.

Having got a quick whiff of Roman's heavy, intoxicating perfume, I closed my eyes and clutched my books tightly to my chest as I walked to class. The sheer smell of him, the softness of his hair, the kindness of his gestures-- it all made my head wander back to last night. The way it felt to have him inside me, how he took care of me, and how good it all felt. Allowing the memories to float back into my mind, I didn't realize I was walking around with a bright smile on my face until I sat down in math class and got a few odd looks from the other students around my seat. I wasn't usually this cheery, I suppose.

Life felt good. When I thought about Roman, everything felt great. I made myself comfortable behind my desk, feeling my tummy tingle with my reminiscing of last night; I wanted him more than ever. Now that I knew we could be together like that, I wasn't sure how I was supposed to be able to detach from him. And just as I thought I was about to explode into a burst of butterflies, I stuck my hand in my coat to reach for my phone, only to find what felt like crumbled-up paper.

Confused, I unfolded it;

i miss the look on your face when you cum. miss you miss you miss you. let's find a quiet place somewhere and get very very noisy after school, what do you think about that? do tell. i want to know your every thought, actually. what makes you tick, and so forth. know that i'm probably thinking about you right now. always.

- your favorite (hopefully)

Oh, Roman and his notes. When had he managed to put it in there? A few minutes ago, when he toying with my pockets? Sneaky. I was dead sure my cheeks had turned a peculiar shade of pink by the time I felt someone put down their bag in the empty seat next to me, and I was too drunk on the euphoria to glance at my partner for today's class. How I loved Roman-- I loved him to the point where the tips of my fingers burned when I thought about him. And knowing he was probably in class now as well, thinking about me too... no, it was almost too much to bear.

However, when something much harder to face suddenly sat down next to me, I would've loved to get sucked right back into my tingling cave of Roman-comfort.

Letha.

Letha was here.

Letha was sitting next to me, gazing back at me with those trademark green Godfrey eyes.

Fuck. I immediately crumbled up the note, stuffing it down my pocket to hide the content of it from her. Knowing Letha, she'd probably barf at the sight of the first sentence. "What are you doing?" I hissed, glancing around to scour the classroom for empty seats. "There's a free table two rows down--"

"I like sitting here," Letha's face remained free of strong emotion, and she turned away to unpack her supplies. "It's close to the window, and I need the natural sunlight. It helps the headache I get from the lamps in here, don't you remember?"

She said it so matter-of-factly, and for a second, it felt as though I had been teleported back to two months ago. I didn't know how to act around Letha anymore. "Sure," I mumbled. Just my luck.

As class started, I would glance over at Letha every once in a while. She seemed so peaceful, undisturbed by my presence, and I wasn't sure why that annoyed me to this extent. Was it perhaps the fact that she sought out forgiveness from me when she refused to give me any in return? That she was seeking acceptance about the situation only when it suited her?

It was odd to look at Letha and see her in colours. After my dream last night, I could only see her in her undead form, dead to me.

To my dismay, Letha leaned over to my side of the table a little later that class; "Do you have a pencil?" she whispered.

A Godfrey asking to borrow my pencil? It usually led to no good. Still, I handed her one--

"Thank you,"

"No problem,"

This was so weird. It felt too normal, yet it was agony to act that it was. However, the situation only worsened when the teacher asked us to work in pairs and solve an equation on the board. I held my breath, daring to glance at Letha; she was already looking at me. "You have no clue how to solve this stuff, do you?"

I shrugged. She knew me too well. "You've probably already solved it in your head,"

Letha's smile was kind, genuine. "Want me to show you how to do it?"

"Nah,"

"Do you even do your homework anymore?"

I knew her question was coming from a good place. I could feel it. After all, I barely managed to do my homework when Letha and I had regular study sessions at her place. Just thinking about it made me remember the sweet smell of her sheets, which never mixed well with the incense she was always burning for 'good karma'. "Roman has a guy that does them for him, and I write my answers off of his," I mumbled.

I expected the mention of him to put her off-- yet Letha simply nodded, raising her brows in a conniving look. "He's corrupted you,"

"I've let him,"

"I know," Letha's green eyes shimmered with words untold as she echoed; "I know."

It was odd to face her like this. For her to know my feelings for Roman, and not walk off this time. This was the first conversation we'd had in months where we weren't at each other's throats. And suddenly, Letha took the leap I wasn't allowed to take-- she leaned in closer as she dared to whisper the forbidden words; "I miss you,"

Oh no. "Letha--"

"You never said goodbye, and now a part of me believes you're coming back,"

I let out a shaky breath as I moved my chair further away from hers. What she said had been too close to the words in my dream last night. It was chilling. "Of course I never said goodbye," I hissed back, feeling my emotions boil to a simmer. "You didn't let me." There it was, laid out in the open. "You cut me off, Letha." She had. "And you left me for dead!"

Letha held her breath high in her chest as her mouth formed a tight line. It wasn't until she moved her chair closer to mine and gripped the table harder that she allowed herself to breathe; "I left you for dead because you basically fucking stabbed me!"

"I didn't mean to!"

"And you think I did?" Letha hissed. "You gave me no choice!"

"That's not true! I came clean to you, and the least you could've done was to!--"

"Yeah, well, I'm sorry!"

We stared at one another in silence. There it was, my apology, served on a silver platter. I had heard it once before, but Roman wasn't here to control the outcome of it this time. Something within the bounds of my soul was relieved of anger and tension, and I couldn't halt the result of it; "I'm sorry too,"

Letha froze for a good second or two. Her lips parted in disbelief as her grip on the table lifted, and she sat back in her chair with a slow nod. It gradually dawned on her what this meant for us.

"Do you think it could work again?"

I indulged with a soft sigh; "What could, Letha?"

"Us," she said, allowing tears to well in her eyes. "You and I. Our friendship."

It was easier to breathe, all of a sudden. I knew that an apology wasn't enough to mend our wounds, but it was a start. I nodded along with Letha and watched as the corners of her mouth tugged upwards into a smile-- I caught myself mirroring it.

"So..." she tried.

"So..."

"Did you hear that Brooke Bluebell bought a big needle from a pharmacy?"

I grimaced; "What? No, why?"

"To get her revenge on Roman," Letha held back a laugh, biting down on her lip as she turned to write down the answer to the math equation. "From a few months ago, if you remember the whole ordeal."

"Oh," I breathed. "Needle-gate?"

"Needle-gate,"

Despite how concerning the big needle sounded, it was a funny reminder of the past; "I've gotta tell Roman,"

"Yeah, you better. I think he's blocked me, so I'm out of the picture," Letha sat back in her chair after finishing her work, and she glanced back at me as she tapped the pencil against the paper. "You've gotta tell him about prom too."

"... Prom?"

"Yes, prom," Grabbing her bag, Letha rummaged around for a few seconds until she found a flyer. It was purple, super lavish-- "It's in two weeks, I think. Kinda short notice, but I have a feeling he'd secretly want to go. He's into the classics, so I'd suggest you indulge him."

I felt my cheeks turn red as I kept my eyes on the flyer. Just the thought of me in a dress, Roman in a suit; it made me warm. Uncomfortably warm. "I think he'd rather die, actually," I mumbled, handing it back to Letha. "Are you going?"

"Meh, don't think so," She stuffed the flyer back into her bag and sighed, reaching for her phone. "The guy that I'm into says he doesn't want to go, so I'll stay home."

It hit me that this was the first time I didn't know who Letha had a crush on. Previously, she would tell me all about them. There was a Tyler, there was a Scott, and then there was a third one who had a really peculiar last name. And just as I was about to scour my brain for more names, a particular one popped up on Letha's phone as she turned it on;

Peter: I think it's time to...

That was all I was able to see, as she needed to click on it to read the whole message. My eyes widened as I sat back in my chair, sending Letha an odd look. It was clear by her body language that she hadn't intended for me to see that, and she immediately flipped her phone.

... Was something going on?

Letha cleared her throat and turned back to me with the same smile, yet it felt disingenuous. "That's a different Peter," she said, a somewhat panicked squeak to her voice. "It's the neighbour. He might be complaining about the amount of cars my dad has parked on our street, cause they don't fit into our garage anymore. It needs to be discussed, apparently. It's time, or whatever."

That seemed like a typical rich-kid problem. I could somewhat buy it. "Is it a Godfrey thing to be crazy about cars?"

"Just you wait until you hear about the cigarettes. Dad's a real chain-smoker,"

"... Don't tell me they're cinnamon-flavoured?"

Letha sighed; "Sadly, yeah. The garage smells like a goddamn gingerbread house,"

The laughter that followed wasn't intentional, and it blended in with the ring of the bell.

This was nice. To see the smile on Letha's face felt good, like a warm soup when you have a cold. It was a comfort to know that we could finally be normal around each other, despite the fact that we would possibly never be friends again like before, or even forgive one another. I doubted that I ever could, fully.

However, just as I was about to excuse myself, I spotted a silhouette by the door which made my blood run cold.

Fuck.

Roman.

I saw it in his eyes immediately. The confusion, which quickly morphed into something darker, anger-like. My laughter died down in an instant as my body kicked into a fight-or-flight response, suddenly scared out of my mind to be caught laughing with Letha-- she seemed to catch on momentarily, but remained in her seat as she watched me shove all my supplies and books into my backpack, hurrying to get to Roman.

I had forgotten that he wanted to pick me up after class. I had forgotten my promise to not fraternise with the enemy-- fucking stupid.

Hoping to conceal the slight tremble in my hands, I put one of them on Roman's arm when I caught up to him in the doorway, smiling up at him with an anxious breath stuck in my chest. "Hey, you," I tried, giving the sleeve of his shirt a gentle tug as I always did, a plea for him to bend down and kiss me. It was impossible to reach all the way up to his lips without it, anyway.

But Roman's attention hadn't left Letha. His eyes had narrowed, glaring at her with fury apparent in the way his jaw clenched. Had telepathy been a real thing, I'd have thought they were yelling at each other through their minds. I almost wanted to butt in and say Letha wasn't bothering me, that we were having a normal conversation-- however, I knew that would only make it worse.

"Come," Roman said with a low growl, unlike anything I had heard from him before. With one last scorned look at Letha, he gripped my wrist and started marching down the hallway; I didn't expect to be yanked from my place the way I was, and I was sure my legs were fully in the air for a microsecond or two; "Roman!--"

"This day just keeps getting worse," he muttered, not waiting for me to find my balance as he continued to drag me down the hallway.

Roman's grip around my wrist was hard. "Slow down!" I tried, grabbing his arm with my free hand. "It's not what it looks like! It's not-- " Everything about this made me dizzy, and his sudden anger made the familiar feeling of dread pool in my stomach. It only got worse when he pulled me into an empty classroom, slamming the door shut behind us.

I took a few steps away from him, waiting for the bomb to explode. My breath came out in short, ragged motions as my hands remained clenched by my sides in anticipation. It felt like I was five years old again, waiting to get reprimanded for having drawn on the walls. "Roman, I--"

"Shut up," Of all the things I expected, it wasn't this. Not at all. Because suddenly, my body was pressed against the door of the classroom with Roman's arms around me, and his lips pressing needy kisses to my neck. My bag dropped to the floor-- What the...?

"Not here," was all I managed to say before my breath hitched, and my hands automatically flew up into his hair. "Roman, please, wait--"

"No," He was more dismissive than ever-- I wondered why I sort of liked it. Why it made my stomach tingle, why I wanted him to do whatever he wanted to me. Was it possibly after what had happened last night? "No more bullshit."

I closed my eyes, hoping we'd have a few seconds to disperse if someone walked in on us right now. With the force of Roman's weight against mine keeping the door firmly shut, I was sure of it. My head lulled against the door as I felt him latch on a particular spot on the side of my neck, marking my skin with his possession. I knew I was screwed-- you can't get more screwed than this.

I was sure I disassociated for a few seconds, because suddenly, Roman's lips brushed against my ear, and I had to suppress a shiver. "We're gonna have a damn serious talk," he said, keeping me still against the door. "We need it. I need it."

Something told me we wouldn't be talking much if he continued kissing me like this. "Let's-- Let's talk, then,"

When Roman pulled away, I could finally see the frustration on his face. The way his brows were drawn together, how high his breath was in his chest, and the narrow glare of his gaze. Still, I didn't think it would result in this; it took me a while to realize his hands were no longer at my sides, and that they were now unzipping my jeans.

"What are you doing?" I breathed, grabbing at his wrists. "Don't--"

"You think you can outsmart me?" It was as though someone had ripped the curtains off its hinges, now revealing what was always hidden behind them. Roman's breath fell heavy against my cheek as a small twitch of his upper lip revealed his inner turmoil; "You think you can tell me one thing, and then do the opposite when I'm not looking?"

My anxiety grew as I realized Roman's strength was unmatched. There was nothing I could do to fight him. "What are you talking about?" It was hard to come up with a cohesive sentence when I was this stressed.

"Peter told me, y'know," Roman continued, a low growl in his voice prevalent in ways it had never been before. "He told me the obvious, of course. That Letha is trying to reconcile, that she misses you... But then he told me the part I didn't know. The part you probably didn't want me to know."

It was with his last ominous words that he managed to dip his fingers past my waistband, past the hem of my underwear, and placed two fingers on my clit. The unexpected touch immediately made me squirm against the door, squeezing my eyes shut. "Why-- Why are you doing this?" was all I managed to stutter out, my hands still locked around his wrist. He knew I didn't want this. He knew. "I don't-- don't know what you're--"

"Talking about?" Roman rubbed rough circles around my clit as he placed his forehead against mine, pressing my head further up against the door. "Oh, so you're not gonna tell me?" His voice got more patronizing, as though this was fifth grade and he was teasing me in the courtyard-- "Is my good little girl gonna be real stupid and not tell me? You wanna act dumb with me, huh?"

Something about his tone made my cheeks burn. His tone, his words. This was not a good way to find out about a possible kink. My mind dulled with the stimulation against my clit, and it didn't take long before I eventually felt my arousal pooling. In all ways of the word, I felt like my body was betraying me. "Not here," I echoed, breath hitching. It felt like he was pressing a button on me, like I was a toy, thoughtlessly repeating it over and over; "Not here, Rome-- N-Not, here, please--"

"I'll stop when you tell me,"

"Tell you what?" I cried, squeezing his wrists as my hips bucked into his hand. Roman knew how to touch me, even if it was at my disadvantage. My mind was racing; someone could walk in, someone could see, someone could--

"How Letha helped you get us back together," Roman's breath was so warm, so angry, against my face, it felt like he was drawing my scorching red blush on my cheeks. "How you went and asked her for advice on how to decrypt me? Maybe you don't know me at all, is that it?"

I didn't want to think about this. I didn't want to be present. I didn't want to think about the fact that Roman had gotten the information all twisted, that Peter must've had quite an extensive talk with Letha to even know parts of this story, and that Roman couldn't find another way to talk it out than to do it like this. Forcefully. Because right now, it felt too good. It felt way too good. The sensation of his fingers rubbing circles into my clit, running them between my folds to gather up my slick, only to return to my bundle of nerves to make my legs shake with a mix of anxiety and pleasure, felt too good.

"That's not true," I tried in between heaves of air. What would it make me if I came like this? "That's not-- not true, Rome--"

"I won't ever be enough for you, will I?"

"No-- no, you're everything!--"

"Because the end of the day, you'll go back to Letha," Roman's voice was tight, restricted, as though he was holding back a heap of emotions. "No matter what I do, how gently I fuck you, treat you, you won't want to be with me forever. No one does."

If only he knew. If only he knew that I loved him. My hands let go of his wrist, and I placed my palms against his chest, forcing some space between us with a push. That seemed to do the trick-- Roman's fingers slowed down as our eyes met, and he was faced with my watery gaze. "I didn't lie last night," I said after finally catching my breath. "I've never lied to you." An unnervingly big part of me longed for him to rub me through my high, which was not too far away from the horizon, but the sane part of me knew I had to put an end to his venture into the dark ways of his past.

Roman's mouth pulled into a straight line; "Peter wouldn't lie to me either,"

"I'm not saying he is. He just got the story wrong,"

There was a long silence, and I knew this was my moment-- I reached for Roman's wrist again, and with careful, slow motions, I got his hand out of my underwear. "Letha heard us fight, and she came over to ask about it afterwards," I started. "There was no plotting. No decrypting. The only thing she told me, was to look for a bigger picture when it comes to fighting with you. I didn't ask for it! And what you saw just now, was us being friendly. Not friends. We will never be again, after everything that happened!"

"But... you were talking on the stairs," Roman echoed, as something in his gaze faltered. "I saw you when we were leaving the party."

Letha's following words were almost icy to the touch, hollow to the ear; "Was I right?"

It felt as though my world stilled. Time stilled. Just for a second, I felt as though I could wade my free hand through the coldness of her phrase, and I could wave away the mirage. She was concerned, curious. Had she genuinely wanted to help me get through this fight with Roman?

"Yeah," I breathed. "You were. Thank you."

Letha's face softened as a relieved sigh escaped her, nodding her head slowly. It had been a long time since the last time she had heard those words from me. "Any time,"

The memory was as fresh as day. "You were right next to me, Roman. If I was hiding something, I wouldn't have talked to her in front of you," I let go of his hand, letting out a shaky breath as he took another step away from me. I could sense that his mind was cracking itself in half. "I don't need Letha to tell me how to fix things with you. Contrary to what you were thinking, I do know you. And I know you well enough to see that this isn't you being angry with me, but rather your fucking abandonment issues surfacing because you haven't dealt with them yet!"

It was clear that Roman didn't expect me to raise my voice, but hell-- I was so done with this behavioural pattern of his.

"It might be good for me to not have the worst relationship with all the girls at this school, have you thought about that?" I said, feeling my fists clench at my sides. "That Letha and I being friendly and not at each other's throats might be good for me? And that it might also be good for your relationship with your cousin, mind you, who you've seemingly blocked?"

Roman remained silent, at a loss for words.

My breathing had yet to calm down, along with my arousal. "You will always be enough for me," I said, softening my tone. "You're all I've ever wanted. I'm not leaving you. But it doesn't matter how many times I tell you this unless you trust me." I zipped up my pants, huffing as I picked up my bag. It felt as though my knees were about to give out-- I could feel my slick dripping into my underwear. This was a feeling I never wanted to revisit again. Ready to storm off, to slam the door behind me with a bang and leave Roman here to wallow in whatever he was feeling at the moment, something else hit me like a blow to the head; "Wait, how did Peter know?"

It couldn't be. It seriously couldn't be.

Roman cleared his throat, no longer meeting my gaze. I could see it in the light pink of his cheeks that he was embarrassed about his outburst. "He said they talked at the party," he mumbled under his breath. "Briefly. Just for a second."

"Ah, is that right?"

Roman caught my tone, glancing up at me through his brows. "Why?"

"Don't you think it's odd?"

"... Maybe, I don't know? I was busy getting laid that night, don't ask me,"

I would've laughed had I not been so pissed off. I could see the lack of reaction on my face getting to Roman, and he gave in to a slight shiver. Finally, the roles were reversed, just for a second. "Rome?"

He looked relieved to hear me use his nickname-- "Yes?"

"You will never do anything like that to me ever again,"

Roman tucked his hands into his pockets, head hanging low. "I... really don't know what came over me--"

"Never," I snapped, biting my teeth together. I was afraid I'd start yelling. "You will never."

I wondered whether anyone had talked to him like this. If this was the first time in history that Roman had gotten a boundary imposed on him. Maybe by his mother when she was scolding him as a child, but after that? I somehow doubted it. He remained silent, eyes fixating on his polished shoes.

Finally getting the opportunity to look at him this close, I spotted the vial of my blood still hanging around his neck, poking out from beneath his shirt. In the back of my mind, after having read that stupid book on upirs, a huge part of me thought he was getting affected by it. That the constant smell of blood right underneath his nose was activating dormant senses, dormant thoughts.

But upirs weren't real.

Not.

Real.

Roman's silence made me feel unimaginably guilty, as though I had been the one to force myself upon him-- he looked like a kicked puppy. I hated it. So, I gathered my next breath; "Could you at least say you're sorry? Then I'll feel better about inviting you home for dinner later,"

Roman's eyes lit up as they met mine, surprised I'd even offer. "You... still want that?"

"I can barely breathe when we're apart, what do you think?"

He let out the breath he had been holding, falling apart; "I'm really sorry,"

I didn't want to dwell on it. Didn't want to think about the fact that the scared look on my face would probably get him going for months on end. That he'd think about it at night, when he woke up, and especially when he got off at the thought of me. The scared look in my eyes.

No. I didn't want to think about it.

Roman was the first to approach, slowly daring to tilt my head up with two fingers underneath my chin and kissing me with the utmost gentle touch. No tongue, no urgency-- just a small, soft brush of our lips against one another, creating sparks that went all the way down into the tips of my fingers.

Letha had been right when she first warned me about him, all those months ago. Roman was the epitome of an asshole. A core so rotten, it was impossible to carve out all the bad. You could try, you could dig, you could pray, but all of it would never go away. It would forever fester in his bones, infect the very basis of his DNA, and course through his veins.

But... when he kissed me like this, I could forget it.

I could forget.

When he kissed me like this, I only loved him more.

I knew I would love him forever.

And as the kiss deepened with the sweetest pressure, I reached for the vial of my blood around Roman's neck-- he didn't notice the way I twisted the capsule, figuring out which way to turn it so it would screw itself off. I had a feeling I would need to know this information in times of crisis.

Just in case.

Just in case. ｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

The rest of the evening went on as normal. Weirdly enough.

Roman had fully snapped out of his rage, and he had turned into a version of himself I hadn't seen before. He wasn't joking around. He wasn't making dirty jokes.

He was... calm.

Assured.

I knew this was probably a form of keeping on the low, to not take a wrong step and blow up in the minefield he had made himself. Roman laid still in my bed with his hands behind his head, watching as I scoured my closet. If there was going to be a prom, I had to look for a dress, right?

"What are you looking for?" he asked, yawning. "Need some help?"

I shrugged, hoping to brush his question off. It was a bit embarrassing to be talking about this, seeing as he hadn't asked me to be his date or anything. "Just looking for a dress... Wondering if I still have the one I'm thinking about,"

"What do you need a dress for?" Roman sat up in the bed, watching me like a puppy would.

"I... like dresses. Need to wear them more often,"

"But it's getting colder, don't you think it's better to wear something warmer for the season?"

What was up with this obsession of his lately? He had to keep me warm at all times, supposedly. "You sound so polite," I mumbled, wading through my clothes. "Stop looking so guilty, please."

Roman let out a sigh, running his hands through his hair. "I feel bad,"

This was intolerable. It gnawed on my heart. "I told you we're fine, so please don't," I turned to him with one hand on my hip, hoping to stare some sense into him; "I even wore this crazy top to make your mood better, look!"

Roman's eyes darted down to the hot pink crop top I was wearing, and he bit down on his growing smile to stay neutral. Nonetheless, I could see it on his face that he remembered exactly where I had gotten it, and possibly the feeling he had back in that closet when he came into the soft fabric of it. "I'd rather you wore my sweater, like usual,"

"It's in the washer. And this top is fucking iconic," I pointed to the words which were stretched out across my chest. "See? 'Rock on', in big, black letters. You need to rock on more, Roman."

His smile immediately cracked, and he propped himself up on his elbows as he leaned down on the bed. "I've done enough rocking for today, that's for sure,"

I finally saw a way I could turn his mood upside down. With a smug smile, I walked over to the pink speaker I got for my seventeenth birthday and connected it to my phone. "Rome, baby, who's big in rock these days?"

Roman chuckled, rolling over on his side to follow me with his eyes. "Depends what type of rock you're looking for,"

"Anything,"

"I don't know, then. Anything from Nirvana to Blur, I suppose,"

Bingo. I guessed that Roman was going for bands he thought I had heard of, and he had hit jackpot. With a click of a button, the intro to Song 2 by Blur started playing through the speakers, which earned me another laugh from my boyfriend. It was a typical rock song-- it started out rather quiet until it broke out into complete chaos.

I crawled back into bed, kissing my way up Roman's stomach, which only made his breath hitch. The giggles brewing in his chest resonated through my body that was pressed up against his, and I joined the laughter as I kissed his rosy cheeks. It was intimate, it was sweet. I loved that I could do this with him now, that he was comfortable enough to be put in a position like this, and that he allowed me to pull stunts like these.

And after all, I decided I would show my love through action, as I couldn't tell him about the extent of my feelings. I knew he'd get up and bolt right out the window like something straight out of a cartoon.

Roman caught his breath, placing his hands on both sides of my face-- all the emotions he couldn't tell me either were on display in his big, green eyes, roaming around the galaxies in his dark pupils. "I trust you,"

"... What?--"

"I keep thinking about what you said earlier," he tried, stroking his thumbs across the soft skin of my cheeks. "I promise I trust you. And I'm sorry that I get in my head about it, because you don't deserve that. You deserve so much better than what I can give you, yet... I want you to stay with me. I really, really want you to stay with me."

This was a rather deep conversation to be having with loud rock music in the background. I should've definitely picked something more mellow. With a sigh, I leaned down to kiss the tip of Roman's nose-- "I told you I'm not going anywhere," I breathed. "I'm yours forever, if you'll have me."

Finally, Roman's eyes lit up. Lit up like fireworks painting the sky. "Forever sounds nice,"

"It does, doesn't it?" It was impossible not to smile.

"It so does,"

It was a relief when he pulled me tightly to his chest and kissed me. It was the type of kiss I had dreamed of having in my bed on a lazy afternoon, the type of kiss which made my heart swell as it beat against his. The type of kiss which I had only ever seen in movies, the type of kiss I could never imagine would feel this good.

No one ever told me that making out with your boyfriend was such a thrill. To be tangled up as one, to be a heap of bodies coming together, to be a mess, and that it would make my whole being vibrate with joy. Roman's lips were so gentle to the touch, yet his kisses were so hot, all-taking, that I wanted nothing more than to melt into him and become one.

It didn't take long before he rolled us over-- I knew he wouldn't be the type to like anyone on top except for him. My hands were in his hair, tugging at the tips of his dark locks to make my fingers busy, as Roman's tongue licked a stripe up my lips; it was so soft, a feathery touch, and it drew out a shaky moan.

I didn't know any of this was possible before I met him. I really had no idea, silly me.

My mind didn't register the meek whine that escaped me, possibly to protect my psyche, as Roman pulled away. A thin string of saliva connected our lips as we simply breathed down at each other, gazing into the other's eyes-- I was sure mine widened a little when I felt something hard pressing against my lower abdomen.

Fuck, that was still damn hot.

It certainly gave the words rock on a new meaning, no?

"I need to ask you something," Roman breathed, followed by a sigh of relief when he heard the song was over. "But don't freak out on me, okay?"

I nodded, eager to have his lips back on mine again; "Sure,"

"And before you judge me, I'm not the biggest fan of this idea myself, cause I think it's kinda lame. Keep that in mind,"

"Okay?"

"So... Heh," Roman let out a soft, nervous laugh, nudging my nose with his. "You might actually want to find a dress for this to work, though."

My fingers traced circles into his hair; "Rome,"

"Yeah?"

"Stop rambling, please,"

"Oh,"

"You were saying?"

"Oh," Roman cleared his throat, placing a short kiss to my lips. "Do you want to go to prom?"

Had I not been trapped beneath him, I would've shot right out of the bed. My eyes widened as I pulled him in for another kiss, hoping to suppress the squeal that threatened to escape me.

"Wait, wait--" Roman's words were muffled against my lips before he raised himself up, still not done. What else was there to say, though? "So, you're going?"

"... What?"

"With friends, or...?"

"Roman, what friends?"

"Ah, right," Once again, he cleared his throat and got all serious again; "So... would you want to go with me?"

It took a second for it to dawn on me that Roman had been genuinely confused. That he thought I would be going with anyone else but him. That he thought, even for just a second, that there was a possibility that I would tell him no. "Are you crazy? Of course!"

Oh, how I loved him.

I loved him to bits.

And here I was, squealing about going to prom. Roman had made me a puddle of girly with his heartthrob-ways. It would've made me sick, had we not immediately gone back to making out, but this time, with bright smiles on our faces. Kissing someone while smiling was definitely in my top three of all things possible on earth.

Second place was being picked up like I weighed nothing, oddly enough. That was one of the perks of having a tall boyfriend, after all.

And the first place was a no-brainer. It was definitely sex.

Oh, and who would've guessed-- we'd end up having sex a few minutes later, believe it or not. When your boyfriend is this hot, it's impossible to resist. It was the type of sex that made up for his behavior at school today, the type of sex that made me melt into the mattress with joy and pleasure.

The cursed hot pink crop top was quickly discarded, and so was my sanity. Roman's kisses grew firm against me, muffling the sounds of my moans as his fingers dug into the soft flesh of my thighs, pinning them down and folding me into submission. It was official-- there seemed to be no etiquette to sex, and my parents being in the house was an obstacle that was easy to deal with.

Just... shut up. Keep your mouth shut. Right?

But it was so damn hard. Especially as Roman angled his cock right up against my sweet spot with the help of the pillow beneath me, making me whine in pleasure against the kiss he had locked me in to ensure my silence. It was impossible. It made my toes curl, made my vision blurry, and made my mind go into complete lockdown. I entered a phase where I almost didn't care, where I couldn't care less at all, and where the only important thing was for Roman to do whatever he wanted to me.

"Fuck-- me," I rambled, my hands skimming the muscular range of his broad back as I felt my need grow insatiable.

Roman let out a huff against me, the smile on his face a visible contradiction; "What am I doing, then, gorgeous?" He was so secure, so confident, that it was impossible not to let him do whatever his heart desired to me. I trusted him with my whole being, even as his grip around my thighs started to make them ache. My lower lip quivered; "Lo--"

No, no!

"Love this," My rambling needed to end, stat.

Roman smirked into the kiss that followed; "Me too," He seemed to be catching onto my overstimulated state, and the second I let out a sigh of relief when he let go of my thighs and the pounding against my sweet spot relented, he came right back with a move I didn't expect. Roman wrapped his arms around me, pulling me up into his lap with his cock still throbbing inside me.

I suppressed a surprised yelp. "Rome!--"

"Shh," He guided my legs around him as he watched me adjust to the new feeling-- he was deeper than ever, now, and it freaked me out a bit. "Stay quiet for me, okay?"

I was on the brink of tears. It felt like my thoughts had short-circuited and left me for dead. My breath tensed in my chest as I draped my arms around Roman's neck, grabbing a fistful of his hair to ground myself, just as I knew he liked it. "Let's try something new," he purred, hands traveling up my thighs to grab my hips, lifting me up along his shaft as I gasped into his open mouth.

Even when I was on top, Roman needed to have control. Perfect. That worked out well for me, actually.

The way he was looking at me made me feel like I was on fire. The green of his eyes etched into mine, watching me with unmatched amusement-- his lips were upturned into the usual smug smirk which made my heart dance in my chest, and in vulnerable moments such as these, it also resulted in my cheeks flaring up with an embarrassing shade of pink.

It didn't take long before we found a rhythm, and before I got used to practically riding him. It was different like this, especially when Roman's hands were simply a weight on my hips, and I could fuck myself on his cock. It felt like a permission of sorts, like he was telling me he was all mine, that I could do whatever he wanted to him-- like an exchange of submission. Although, of course, Roman would never fully submit to anything in the world.

It was easy to keep quiet when the soft pillows of his lips muffled the sounds of my inevitable moans, but when they left me, it became a fight against my conscience. A small gasp would escape me here and there, along with a loud hitch of my breath, and it eventually balled on into a breathy string of ah ah ah's-- staying quiet was an impossible task. I prayed to all the Gods above that my parents wouldn't hear the mess their dearest Roman was making out of their daughter.

They had no idea he could be like this. None. He was such a sweetheart at dinner, he'd always make sure to help my mom set the table, and he'd talk sports with my dad-- they had no idea. I could see it in Roman's eyes that he found the sight of me beyond amusing. That he got off me unraveling more than anything. He only made it harder for me to stay quiet as he pressed the heel of his palm to my clit, keeping me steady with a hand on my back as his kisses trailed down my body.

"A-Ah, Rome--" I was done for. I was done for.

"Shh, just a little more," Roman's lips had stayed at my clavicle for long enough to leave a mark. It dawned on me that he was leaving a trail of hickeys, and my fist in his hair tightened as my legs quivered. This was too many sensations at once. "A little more... You can take it, right?"

I couldn't utter a cohesive sentence. The pressure on my clit, his wet, eager kisses, and the way I could set the perfect pace as I slid up and down his cock made my brain buzz with static noise. I was sure my eyes had morphed into the shape of hearts as I let out a shaky, quiet moan, filling myself up with Roman's cock over and over. The best feeling in the world.

"That's my girl..." he cooed, grabbing my waist with his free hand. "Fuck yourself on my cock, it's all yours..." His pink lips parted with pleasure as he watched me sink down on his length, enchanted by the sight. It was a delight to watch the way his perfect up-do came undone, and the way his hair fell over his forehead in messy strokes. He looked unreal, godly.

Roman's words were enough to make my hips buck into his abdomen, but my state only got worse, deteriorated, as his mouth trailed down to my breast. The moan I had to suppress when I felt his tongue against my stiffening bud was unmatched-- I was sure I started panting as he took it into his mouth, suckling it swollen as I whimpered.

I wanted to let it spill past my lips; I love you, I love you, I love you. In that sense, sex was dangerous territory for me. However, how was I supposed to resist when it felt this good?

My lips ghosted over the parts of him I could reach, his ear, his cheek, and I let my breath hitch against his skin as a familiar feeling pooled in my tummy. Aware, Roman only drove the heel of his palm harder into my clit, making it so that I was grinding up against him with every lift of my hips against his length. I gave into a tremble, unsure how to stabilize myself in this position-- "Rome," I cried, pleading for him to kiss me. I wasn't sure I'd be able to suppress the sounds that were threatening to spill past my quivering lips when my high washed over me.

Roman's free hand remained at my breast, pinching my bud between his pointer and his thumb in a firm hold which had me wincing in pleasure. He kissed up my body, my shoulders, my neck, my jaw, my cheek-- yet he hovered inches away from my lips, the smirk still prevalent. "You lost," he whispered.

Lost what?

It was as though he read my mind; "You can't stay quiet, can you?"

I really wished I could. I was trying with all my might. But I was so, so damn close, and I shook my head, hoping he'd take pity on me.

"It's okay," he cooed, his breath falling hot against my cheek as he tilted his head as though to kiss me. "You were never meant to win."

And so I crumbled. Completely. Utterly. Euphoria tore through me as I fell apart in Roman's arms, and it didn't take long before he simply wrapped his arms around me, laid me back down, and fucked me through my high as I suppressed my sobs of pleasure into his shoulder.

Honestly? I didn't remember what happened next. Completely zen, relaxed, and thoroughly fucked, I considered myself logged off for the next ten minutes or so. However, I had to run over to my mental keyboard as Roman's hand, which was previously toying with my hair, pointed to my nightstand-- "What's that?"

With a small grunt, I raised my head from his bare shoulder. Fuck. My eyes sprung wide open as I spotted The Avoidable Vampirism on display, uncovered and everything. "Uh..." How could I have left that abomination out in the open? I gulped, turning to Roman with a doe-eyed expression that I knew worked well on him. I was sure my next words would put him off his incoming queries in an instant; "It's the sequel to Twilight. Vampire erotica, the usual. Edward is gay in this book, Bella is dead, and there are tons of scenes where, uh... men kiss men. And suck each other off. Super interesting."

Unsurprisingly, Roman was immediately disinterested. "Girls," he mumbled, rolling his eyes before he pressed a short kiss to my lips. "Stop thinking about gay sex, go to sleep."

"I'm not thinking about!--"

"Sleep!"

a/n: thank you for reading this monster of a chapter!!!! as you see, Roman's going absolutely nuts... I wonder whyyy (oh we know why, don't we? don't dangle a carrot in front of a donkey or whatever they say). there are a few chapters left of this book which will be packed w shit I hope will melt your brains, but before that, I wish you all a lovely christmas and a happy new year!!! MWAH, THANK YOU!!)

here are all the chapters!!<3: PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5, PART 6, PART 7, PART 8, PART 9, PART 10, PART 11, PART 12

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@shehangsbrightly @burningmiraclekingdom @dollforaswan @austinswhitewolf

@nico-velvet @shiiiii-okayyyy @theantagonistalwaysdies @blackbluerose666

@obexes @rosecoloureddudez @amoure020 @itsaeasykill

@succubustacy @carmillavalentine

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yuri-is-online · 2 years ago

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Without Saying (Floyd and Ruggie x Yuu)

"Oh can I help you? You seem to be lost." You attempt to cheerfully ask the vaguely familiar looking person in front of you. As if he is deliberately trying to rub salt in your wounds, Crowley ignored your request to leave campus for NRC parents day and is instead making you and Grim run errands. The person in front of you, blissfully ignorant to your inner turmoil perks up at your attention.

"Forgive me for asking, but are you the magicless prefect?" You and Grim exchange a confused glance. "You've got to be right?" They're practically glowing with how happy they are to see you. " Oh I'm sorry, I've just heard so much about you!" Wait, what?

notes: they/them pronouns used for Yuu, feral ariel (Floyd) vs light angst again (Ruggie). If you liked this please check out the previous parts on my masterlist.

Floyd

Under normal circumstances, a quiet Floyd was a suspicious Floyd but today- well today it was just odd. He doesn't look bored per se, just idle standing next to a very tall woman with similarly colored hair who is slowly, carefully, with extreme focus examining every inch of what you think is a novelty piggy bank shaped like the school's wishing well.

"Are you done yet Mamma?" Floyd sounds like he is being careful not to yawn.

"Hush now Floydie," she doesn't even blink, that's how tight her focus is, "Mamma is concentrating." Mrs. Leech's lips are tightly pursed while Floyd mutters something about going to get some candy and slinks off while you question if getting involved in this conversation is part of your job description or even smart. Unfortunately for you by the time you look back up from your clipboard Mrs. Leech has moved directly in front of your face in complete silence. "Human-" you go to scream but she silences you with a look you can't tell is from magic or practice raising the twins "Human can you help me with something?" She doesn't even wait for you to agree before holding up the piggy bank. "What exactly is the purpose of this object?"

"That?" You are surprised your voice doesn't give out entirely as she vigorously nods. "The piggy bank?"

"I see, I see." She nods sagely, immediately whipping around to where she evidently thought her son still was, shrugging undeterred as she decides to simply yell. "FLOYD! IT'S CALLED A PIGGY BANK."

"That's nice Mamma." Calls Floyd, oddly coming off as polite and rational from somewhere deep within the Mystery Shop. " But like what does it do?"

"EXCELLENT QUESTION! Say human what does it do?" You are deeply tempted to say that this woman cannot be serious but you don't really want to find out. You draw yourself up to your full height and nod.

"You put coins in it." Mrs. Leech blinks, a bit taken aback.

"Wait really?" Bravely, with a reasonable fear of being bitten, you reach over and gently lift up the top of the wishing well to show her the coin slot.

"I'm pretty sure this one plays a song when you put a coin in too." You explain.

"But it's so tiny?" She marvels, repeatedly opening and shutting the top of the bank. "How're you supposed to keep your money safe if it's so fragile? But then again I do keep most of mine with my husband..."

"Uhm it's supposed to be a fun gift for little kids." It occurs to you that she might find that offensive since it did look like she was buying it for herself. "To teach them about saving money, at least where I'm from anyway."

"Oh how cute. That settles it, I am definitely getting this." As if sensing that it is check out time Floyd shuffles over and immediately perks up.

"Little Shrimpy! Were you the one helping my mom?" He seems really happy, causing you to breathe a light sigh of relief. Mrs. Leech looks confused, zeroing in on you with the same concentration from earlier.

"Yeah. Trying to anyway." You nervously say; Mrs. Leech's attention turns to her son.

"Aww, how cute. You fishin' for a favor shrimpy?" Normally you would play along with his teasing, but your eyes dart awkwardly to Mrs. Leech whose attention is back on you, then the piggy bank, then you then her son, then you agai-

"Not really, I'm just trying to do my job." You awkwardly laugh and Floyd pouts.

"Spring or Summer?" Mrs. Leech asks cheerfully. To your surprise she has somehow managed to snatch up a second piggy bank within the .2 seconds since you took her attention off her.

"I'm sorry?"

"Oh just wondering that's all." She has a very serene smile on her face. Almost too serene. Like you just somehow signed away your soul because you didn't read some fine print. "I'm more partial to Spring myself." You try to look to Floyd for some context but for some reason, he's refusing to make eye contact. Weird.

Ruggie

"Thank you dear." The elderly beastwoman breathes a sigh of relief as you help her settle onto a bench next to the Coliseum. "Goodness, Ruggie warned me this place was big but I didn't realize just how serious he was." You nod, unscrewing the cap on one of the water bottles you brought with you for the old lady. She takes it thankfully and you breathe a gentle sigh of relief, not that Granny Bucchi had been anything more than a bit winded when you found her, but it was still worrying to see an old woman bent over like that. "I really should have just waited for him."

"Didn't he promise to meet you at the mirror chamber?" You ask, trying not to sound too judgmental. You find it hard to believe someone who spoke as fondly of his grandmother at Ruggie wouldn't want to escort her around, Granny Bucchi looks at you sheepishly sort of confirming that.

"He doesn't actually know that I'm here just yet, I wanted to surprise him." She tries to pass you back the water back but you shake your head. The two of you lapse into a comfortable silence, the sort you only ever get while relaxing with a cup of tea, or in this case a nice old lady who is genuinely enjoying the campus scenery. It's so nice Grim curls himself up into your lap for a little nap. Granny Bucchi scratches just the right place behind his ears to convince the "not a cat" to let out a very cat like purr.

"Did you send him a message to let him know your here?" You whisper, trying not to wake your baby. "If not I can send him one." She lets out a small laugh, similar in sound to her grandson's but still very much her somehow.

"Oh I am sure he'd be half way here already if he knew I had you to myself. Who knows what sort of ideas I could be putting in that head of yours." She winks and takes out her phone, squinting at the keys trying to piece together a message. "You should still send him one though, you'll probably be faster than me."

"Do you mind if I take a picture?" You ask sheepishly. "You know so Ruggie knows you're ok." Lies you just want a picture of you with Granny Bucchi. Sure, to Twisted Wonderland she is just some lady, but she is easily celebrity tier to you with how much glowing praise Ruggie heaps on her.

"Oh please do!" To your surprise she seems genuinely excited and strikes a little pose. What a natural, Vil has nothing on this woman. Not that you are going to say that out loud because you don't have a death wish. You happily text Ruggie as Granny Bucchi looks on fondly. "Do you like taking pictures?" Her voice is much softer than it has been in the admittedly little conversation you have had. "Ruggie sends me a lot of the ones you've given him from your ghost camera, I keep trying to ask him if you're planning on being a photographer in the future but he always dodges the question." She's clearly curious and you can't blame her, you just aren't sure how to answer.

"The future is a bit complicated for me." Is what you settle on, really hoping it doesn't loose you points.

"Oh you don't need to feel bad about that." Her eyes are filled with warmth and affection that you haven't felt in a long time, it's enough to make you want to cry. "Technically the future is complicated for everyone, some of us just muscle through it better than others. Case in point." Granny hauls her self up and nudges you to turn around. Ruggie is staring at both of you with a strange look in his eyes, but when he makes eye contact with you he shakes himself out of whatever mood that was and jogs up to meet you both.

It would be nice, you think, if you could do this again.

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #floyd leech x reader #ruggie bucchi x reader #first piggy banks are a big deal in my family #like everyone pitches in some loose change for a new baby and puts it in a baby bottle or something idk i think it is kinda cute #sorry for only doing 2 guys i ran out of ideas

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anpanman95 · 6 days ago

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Is anyone else feeling like a clown for expecting a whole entire episode of mushy love and happiness? No? Just me? Okay.

Let's dissect every incredible part of this trailer to forget the fact there is no IQIYI logo nor an online link in it for international fans to watch it because I will probably cry myself to sleep.

We have a proposal WITH THE FAMILY. And my man Jack brought Joke FLOWERS and all I just know it's gonna be like an unexpected surprise and I CAN'T WAIT FOR IT. Also the color scheme???? BRILLIANT.

Is Jack asking for Sr. Suthi's blessing? If that's the case I will be ONLY TEARS during this. I'm a sucker for "take care of my lovely son please don't hurt him" trope I don't even know how am I going to survive this. ALSO TOI TING IS THERE DID THEY ACTUALLY ADOPT HER???

I love Jack's bedroom but I do hope they improve their love nest they deserve the sturdiest bed you know? Or maybe not...A mattress does make a lot less noise, you know? sorry I'll stop

Here's where my questions being. I know they probably get married at the end of the episode, but this part is giving "we're on our honeymoon and they rudely interrupted us now we have to put this on hold and go save the world again" Also LOOK AT THEM THEY LOOK GORGEOUS. Joke that is the most Mark-coded T-shirt you have ever worn he'd be proud.

GOD THE SUITS. BONZ??? HELLO??? JOKE WEARING THAT ICONIC WHITE SUIT AND RED BOW FROM THE PILOT??? IM NOT GOING TO SURVIVE THIS.

I KNEW IT. I KNEW THEY SHOULD HAVE KILLED THIS BITCH

It's giving don't touch my fiance and I'm delighted to witness it.

BONZ is looking FINEEEEEEEEEEEE

I don't even need to comment on this one cause no one is fucking surprised but I'm devouring this shit. They don't give a fuck they truly don't and I love them for it. Also they look DIVINE.

It seems we'll get good mushy love content and I'm just hoping it's not so short lived. We'll get to see them in action again after being a couple for a while, probably, and I'm DYING to see how their relationship improved.

They are the type to do PDA, that much is clear, and I'm loving this switching in dynamics. Their love language is killing me: Jack is cute and somewhat 'cheesy', and Joke is a bit more aggressive in his love showing. Ugh, the bear hugs? The head kisses? The hand holding? I feel like I'm starved for them to be affectionate with each other PLEASE I CAN'T TAKE THIS.

I don't even know what's even going on cause I don't know any Thai and us international fans will probably have to wait before watching this.

I hope that's not the case cause I've been DYING on this wait for this episode and I don't want to prolong it any longer.

BUT either way I'm very happy with this

IM SEATED.

BRING IT ON GAYS.

#jack and joker #jack and joker the series #jack and joker u steal my heart #yin anan #jackjoke #yinwar #war wanarat #yin anan wong #jackjoker #thai bl #thailand #thai drama #bl series #bl drama #thai bl drama

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s1llydr3amscape · 8 months ago

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LET ME OUT

Looks like someone failed the captcha test to many times!

Anyways I always wanted to doodle this specific pose from Toyless' animation why because I can :]

Extras under the cut :

This was the specific screenshot I based the pose off I love hands grabbing head!!! :

youtube

The original video ^ (I'll be real with yall I was shocked the original song was poppy playtime because my only experience with it was that all my baby cousins loved that franchise. And they would show me vids off it at family gatherings because I was the babysitter. One of em even debated me abt fnaf like chill out bro you weren't even born when it came out!!!!!)

Glitchtrap rambling time woohoo let's go!!!!

-I redrew em again because I think I'm almost 100% happy with its design!!!! Like I don't wanna change their face so much because the way his face is shaped is my fave!!! Like they have the same style of muzzle as sonic characters!!!!!! I just made it rounder cuz its their early days before this au lore

-I just wanna achieve the unnaturalness with their design. Like they don't belong here. They want to get out. LET HIM OUT. type vibe basically like that's why it has like those kind off teeth instead off the rabbit ones. They get those later in the au.

-I fucking love Glitchtrap so much you don't understand they're so peak!!!!!! I jokingly hate him because I despise what it did to Vanny.

-I was a fan since day 1 bro is just so unique like woah a non animatronic for a change?!?!? STRAIGHT UP A FURSUIT!??!?! Color me impressed!!! I love zooming on it its model and seeing everyy little detail!!! Like omg bro is crying and drooling on the suit!!!!! There's also a patch of uneven stitching pattern on the top of their head compared to their mostly symmetrical design!!!

-I was so fixated on em like my level of obsession for him was bad bad!!!! Like yeah it was still there when Vanny came around during the curse of Dreadbear DLC but you don't understand it surpassed all my Foxy art!!! The first fnaf character I fixated on!?!?? Like what and yall can ask my IRLS bro had lots n lots of art!!!!! I have so much trad art of glitchy it's embarassing!!! Atleast I improved tbh!!

-I just really really loved the fan animations were bro got to time travel to the older fnaf animations and fuck em up!!!! Causing them all to glitch out like hello PEAK!?!?!?! No im not biased to rabbit characters with whiskers shhhhh... SHHH...

-Because I know all those animations already and it's like omg omg OMG Glitchtrap kinda expanded my music taste imma be fr... Fnaf autism is so bad I omfg I only listened to fnaf songs and the only time I listened to other franchises songs is because someone animated fnaf over it... like yeah I was an animation meme kid but even then I only remember the lyrics and titles to songs if I saw fnaf on them (cringe!!!!) So yeah thank u Glitchtrap <33333

-I think Malhare is the cooler name but the Glitchtrap name is cool too because when the names end in trap like this it makes me think they're like warrior cats adjacent. So in this one they just fluctuate between either Malhare or Glitchtrap

-Also another reason he's my super fave is because my brain predicted it's gloop form!!!!

-Like no joke literally the same character I dreamt about during the early days before Princess Quest.

-Except mine was a shadow like the shadow animatronics. More wispy than gloopy. I think the reason I dreamt it was because Shadow Toy Chica and fan made shadow animatronics were getting popular!! But legit same character and colors!!!!!!!

-Just a big dark mass with purple eyes surrounding it like literally the same character my brain came up with and I'm just wow <3333 minus the fact my design had really big giant swirly white eyebrows

-However my Shadow Glitchtrap was kinda more wack to say the least. Like heheheh cuz Glitchtraps a fursuit there's no denying that I changed the dream design a bit. In my old Glitchtrap designs they'd have a zipper and so what would happen was they'd unzip and flip their insides into outsides to reveal the Shadow Glitchtrap thing which was hiding inside them.

-Like those plushies that you can unzip to reveal a different plushie design basically!!!!

-TBH I prefer Glooptrap because yeah!!!!! Amalgamation of hate let's go!!!!!! I think with how gloopy he is its just fun to draw I love the fact that the weird Glitchtrap blockers look like that it fits too much with my own preestablished AU lore.

-I feel like Glitchtrap turns into Glooptrap from like the seams of their suit. Like you see that each part the suit got stitched just turn black as black liquid pours out like ohhh that shit haunted!!!! Bursting outta the seams like oh this guy has no one inside they're all just black sludge!!!!

-In this AU specifically (The one with my millions of Vanny designs) is actually a spoof fnaf AU where everyone lives!!! Like I have 3 AUs technically one of them being the fnaf cast in my oc world where they become my ocs basically called Rabbit City. My other one which is my more serious canon adjacent fnaf AU where no silly stuff or shipping happens, and it's just more overall following my own formed understanding of the canonicity and the series of events with me trying to keep the animatronics more game accurate (I dont think ive posted any of that here due to me feeling like my style limits the nit and grit I wanna go with it). And this one I mainly post on here where everything is just silly and bends to my command and everyone lives because I love everyone <333333 Literally playing with my toys type AU where I do what I want which is why a million vanny designs are in this AU specifically. I usually tag it as this 🦭🩷🐇🐰🐇🐰🐇🐰🐯 because the original name of this au is self indulgent and I'm embarrassed but it's too iconic to change it.

-Glitchtrap in this AU is just much more goofy and silly infecting people like a zombie virus and possessing them for his own gain. Weird eldritch horror that came out of a fnaf fangame. Anything goes in this AU so if I wanna make Glitchtrap a mind controlling zombie warlock wizard so be it!!!! Sorry I love zombies soo much you will have to take this trope out of my cold dead hands!!!!! I love rot!!!

-That's why it's wrinkly because they too me are like a rotten banana (Even though his associated smell to me is lemongrass). Imagine squeezing a banana still with it's skin on. That's how I imagine bro turns into glooptrap if they didn't open the zipper in time. Also because I love the design trope of rotting and withering sue me. I love when the flesh sags across the body. Wrinkles are great bro theyre so real!!!!! Also because back then people kept drawing him as skinny as a twig??? Even though they have fat??? So I made them fatter mostly because like I love the gloop part of it hiding inside <3333

-They're more green pink and purple because imma be real my fave color combo ever <33333

-I wanna do an xray piece with them soon to show their insides but I'm still uncertain if I have the art prowess to concoct it exactly like how I envision it yet. Like I need to squash and scretch them more. They need to look more decrepit and horrible!!!!! something like the unknown from dbd!!!!

-They can't actually emote properly stuck in a permanent smile

-Glithctrap and Vanny’s dynamic is like Lord Hater and Commander Peepers in this one. There's more character adjacent to the dynamic between them concocted in my head but I wanna draw a comic abt it :]

-Like yeah one second they're besties and the next they're at each other's throats ready to strangle eachother. Vanny reluctantly trying to help him at first like how she was first called.

-Oh also in this specific AU Glitchtrap isn't connected to William in the slightest more just it's own thing!!!!

-He's like an AI that wants to be human. It believes it is human. They've mimicked people too much that they don't know what they are anymore. Or what it wants anymore. What do they want.

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exorciqsm-0 · 7 months ago

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FOR THE HEART ! >ᵥ_ᵥ< Jjk character bf headcanons

Characters: Gojo, Toji, Choso, x black fem reader

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁.𖥔

Satoru Gojo >ᵥ_ᵥ<

𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒ bae, sweetheart(condescending =_=), pookie

𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒ He hates cooking dates because you never let him do anything in fear of him buring your place down

𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒ gives you random gifts

𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒ he gets really petty when he’s jealous

"What round are you guys on?" he asked, his tone tinged with obvious sulking. "I told you, 'Toru," you replied, leaning casually against the kitchen door. "He was just a friend of mine." He hummed softly, rolling his eyes. " and He was just so funny, wasn't he?" he mumbled, turning away from you.You sighed softly, stepping closer until you were right behind him. Bending down, you whispered into his ear, "You know, 'Toru," and gently kissed his cheek, "you're the one and only man for me.” He hummed again, this time with a soft smile spreading across his face, a noticeable blush coloring his cheeks.

𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒ hyper bf + low energy gf

𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒ steals your bonnet all. the. TIME.

𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒ would start crying if you don’t say ‘I love you’ back

𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒ def would be one of those “don’t tell your mother 🤫” kinda dads

𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒ he LOVES physical touch but his love language is def gift giving and quality time.

Toji Fushiguro >ᵥ_ᵥ<

𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒ hun, crazy, doll

𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒ thinks your absolutely crazy for loving him

𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒ loves when you sit on his lap and shave his face for him

"Ya know you don’t gotta do this," Toji mumbled as he patted his wet hair with a white towel. "It’s fun," you replied with a smile, settling yourself comfortably on his lap. He shrugged, setting the towel aside and leaning back against the lid of the toilet. "You outta take better care of your skin," you remarked teasingly as you applied a generous amount of shaving cream to his face. "Are you not doing it for me, hun?" he teased back, his eyes glinting mischievously. You rolled your eyes playfully, grabbed the razor, and began to carefully shave him, the rhythmic motions of "down, down, wipe, down, down, wipe" filling the quiet bathroom. A strange yet comforting silence enveloped you both, broken only by the occasional sound of the razor gliding smoothly over his skin. It was a moment that put Toji's restless heart at ease, his gaze softening as he watched you work with gentle concentration. "Hmm? Why are you so happy?" you asked, pausing to put the razor down for a moment. His smile widened, a warmth spreading through his features. "Oh, it's just... I realized that you have me completely wrapped around your pretty fingers, doll," he admitted softly, turning his face slightly away to hide the faint blush that colored his cheeks.

𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒ Has a sneeze that could cause an earthquake

𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒ He loves dates that involve food

𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒ Is always touching you

Choso Kamo >ᵥ_ᵥ<

𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒ my heart, lovebug, darling etc(has a billion nicknames for you)

𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒ always knows how to make you feel better

A deep sigh escaped your lips as you gazed down at the slightly burnt cake sitting on the countertop. "I'm so sorry, Cho. I messed it up..." you murmured, unable to meet his gaze. "No, no you didn't," Choso quickly responded, grabbing a fork and taking a big bite of the cake. "In fact," he continued with a mouthful, "it's delicious! And I like how it's kinda burnt, you are taking creative liberties." He reassured you, gently patting your head."Do you really like it?" you asked hopefully, your eyes lighting up with anticipation. "Yes, it's amazing darling. Good job!" Choso smiled softly, his words filling you with relief and a warm sense of accomplishment.

𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒ watches braiding tutorials because he wants to help you with your hair

𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒ I feel like Choso while also being a sweetheart, would be so cocky when he’s jealous. Like he’d walk up to the guy that was previously flirting and be all like, “you’re not her type. You don’t have abs😐”

𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒ is addicted to kissing

𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒ love language is definitely acts of service

𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒ is always holding your stuff.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁.𖥔

>ᵥ_ᵥ< a/n- should I make a pt.2 with more characters???

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valeisaslut · 1 year ago

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the morning is the muse-mdni (+18)

clic to read pt.1!

⚢ pairing: Shane McCutcheon (The L Word, 2004) x Reader 𖥔 ݁ ˖

ෆ synopsis: after the heated events of the night before, Shane and y/n try to make it pass as a one night thing, but feelings get in the way. It's your turn to realize that Shane is someone quite difficult to avoid 𖥔 ݁ ˖

⭑ word count: 2.12k 𖥔 ݁ ˖

♱ content: smut (nsfw), dom! Shane, sub! reader, oral sex (r!receiving), fingering, cum eating, jealousy, cursing, Shane and y/n are smokers, pet names, etc. MDNI!! 𖥔 ݁ ˖

꒱࿐♡ ˚.*ೃ Hii! first of all, thank you all so so so much for all the support in my first fic! I honestly wrote it more for myself than for it to be popular and i didn't expect all those kind beautiful messages and so many people asking me to write a pt.2! So here it is, I really hope you like it as much as i did. Sorry in advance if there are some misspelling or writing mistakes, english isn't my first language and I will be happy to receive constructive criticism! 𖥔 ݁ ˖

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

The dim and warm morning light seeped through the curtains of Shane's department, reaching your eyes and waking you from your slumber in a slow manner.

As you languidly opened your eyes, you started scanning your surroundings, not immediately comprehending your present location. However, in a matter of seconds, the flashbacks of the previous night hit you like a bus and a slight blush painted your cheeks.

The first thought of your sleepy head was to make sure of Shane's presence in the bed, so you rolled up to the other side, only to discover her absence.

You looked around the room, slightly confused but not really surprised. It was something that you could expect from a one night stand.

"Shane...?" you mumbled softly, still giving it a chance to dismiss your internal thoughts.

"maybe she just went and expects me to leave before she comes back" your inner voice echoed.

You were only in your panties, so you sat up and stretched your arms, letting out a soft sigh. You were ready to get dressed and start your walk of shame as soon as possible, but a sound coming from the kitchen stopped you in your tracks.

You felt footsteps coming towards the room, so you covered yourself with the sheets again. The door creaked open, revealing Shane's long and slim figure. She had two different colored mugs, one on each of her hands and a cigarette dangled from her lips.

She was wearing only a white tank shirt and black panties, her jet black hair all messy and her eyes were slightly black from the remnants of smudged makeup (that she didn't correctly remove after your shared shower).

Without a doubt, she was the hottest girl you had ever hooked up with.

"hey, you already up" Shane said, with an even deeper than usual morning voice, she came closer to you and offered you the cup "I was making myself coffee and I made some for you too, if you want it"

"oh, thanks" you said as you took the coffee and leaned back on the bed, sipping it and letting out a soft sigh of pleasure "I really needed that, thank you again, you really didn't have to"

Shane looked at you while taking a long drag on her cigarette, the morning light perfectly illuminating your face and your locks with a serene aura. Then her gaze went a little lower, discovering your bare body covered only by the almost sheer sheets.

"my pleasure" she responded to your gratitude with an alluring manner, giving you her very renowned Shane smirk.

You looked down at your cup, chuckling when you realized what was written in it.

"Best. lesbian. ever."

"nice mug you have here" you said, turning it around to show her the quote, making her laugh too "i'm gonna need the address of the place where you got this. immediately"

"I have no idea 'cause I actually didn't bought it" she responds to your request "it was a joke from my friend, she gave me that as a birthday gift last year"

"the quote is true tho" you remarked, still chuckling as Shane drew nearer, giving you a cute peck on the lips. "hell yeah it is" she purred, planting another kiss upon you, her passion and eagerness growing with each passing moment.

You reciprocated with the same initiative, as Shane put out her almost finished cigarette on the ashtray that laid on the nightstand. Both of you left your mugs too, quickly forgetting the coffee.

You sat up on your forearms and Shane crawled up over you, placing one of her hands on the mattress while the other one moved to your nape, deepening the kiss.

You placed your hand on Shane's waist, caressing the soft flesh as her kisses went lower, nibbling upon the sensitive skin of your neck and licking the already dark marks from last night.

Her hands traced lower, softly gripping your breasts and she separated from the kiss to attach her mouth to your nipple, sucking on it and squeezing the other.

She slowly moved towards your legs, her body getting closer until she was on her knees in front of you. As she did that, she gave you a look full of lust, her lips kissing and her hands gripping the supple flesh of your inner thighs.

With each second passing, the dampness in your panties grew more, yearning to be pleased. As a reflex, you attempted to close your legs, but her strong grip kept them firmly in place.

"be a good girl and spread your legs" she deeply whispered, and you complied without complaint. Her voice slightly muffled by her lips grazing your thighs, getting closer and closer to your sensitive spot.

You audibly moaned as her tongue touched the drenched fabric of your undergarments, licking a long stripe and sucking your wetness. Her teeth grasped the waistband of your panties, slowly drawing them down your legs with her mouth.

The sight was absolutely alluring, and turned you into a whimpering mess. Her hands squeezed your flesh once more and her mouth met your bare pussy, eliciting a resounding gasp from your lips.

She began to suck loudly on your clit as your head fell back in ecstasy, your eyes darted shut as you firmly grip her hair.

"Fuck! don't stop" you moan and as if that weren't enough, her deft fingers found their way to your sensitive nipple, teasing and twisting it.

“you like that, baby?” she whispered, her deep voice muffled by your pussy. The room was filled with the sultry wet sounds, causing you to writhe beneath her touch.

“oh god Shane” your moans only seem to heighten her desire, making her more eager, almost pussy drunk. She eats you out like she is a woman starved, and you are her last meal.

A broken "fuck" escaped from your lips the moment when her hot tongue started intercalating between fucking you and flattening against your clit, knowing that it was over for you.

Somehow, she delves her fingers into the mess and the overwhelming stimulation quickly drove you to the edge, making you cum all over her mouth with loud and broken whimpers, one of your hands gripping the sheets and the other roughly pulling Shane's hair.

A shiver courses through your spine when she used her tongue to clean up every last drop of your release, her fingers still inside of you, moving slowly to extend your high as much as possible.

After you calm down from your high, Shane hovered over you and pressed sweet kisses on your open, breathless mouth. She removed her fingers and sucked them clean before helping you pull up your panties again.

"i love the way you taste" Shane whispers in your ear, and you swore you could hear her smirk. You were just about to reply, but you both stopped your movements at the loud sound of knocking on the door.

"cominggg" Shane lazily said, putting on the first pair of pants and socks she found laying on the floor. She walked out of the room and the next thing you heard was the door creaking open.

"hey Shane, sorry to wake you up" a womanly voice says "I just dropped by to ask you if you could give me back my bra from yesterday, it's my favorite"

"oh, hey Laura.. uhh yeah, jus gimme me one second and I'll look for it" you hear Shane say as you felt her footsteps coming near the room.

You can't help being embarrassed, it makes you feel kinda ridiculous laying naked in a bed that yesterday was filled for another girl, so you start putting your clothes on and grabbing one of Shane's cigarettes, lighting it and taking a drag.

"It shouldn't bother me so much. it was just a one time thing. with a stranger. It doesn't mean anything, so why do I feel like this? god im so fucking stupid" your mind echoed while you got dressed as fast as you could.

Shane walked into the room, not even looking at you and just focusing on finding that piece. She opened a drawer and took out a pink, lacy, probably D-cup bra and just walked out. Your mind couldn't find a moment where you had felt more uncomfortable than this.

"found it, there you go" you heard her say "thanks babe, call me later" the girl replied.

"sure.... see you around" Shane responded, and you can quickly feel her closing the door and her steps coming closer again. You took a drag of your cigarette and grabbed your purse.

"hey hey, you are going already?" Shane confusedly leaned on the door frame while you were putting your clothes on, her eyes still lingering at your body.

"um, yeah" you responded while your mind struggled to make an excuse and tried to sound the most unbothered it could. "I forgot I have... a deadline today, so yeah.... i'm out, sorry"

"oh, ok" she said, kinda weirded out by your sudden attitude, but still understanding. You took another long drag, trying to figure out your next words.

"hope I see you around, some of these days" you say as you turn around to put out your cigarette in the ashtray. Your words were genuine, but at the same time you didn't know if you wanted to see her again. Your head was a complete mess.

"yeah, me too" she got closer to caress your check and give you a peck on the lips, smiling at you. You swore you saw her eyes slightly glint, but didn't give it too much importance.

You both said your goodbyes with a bittersweet taste on your mouths and as soon as you were on the elevator, you took out your phone and called your best friend Alice.

"Hey Al, wanna go to the Planet for coffee in like, 10 minutes?"

"so yeah, all that happened" you and Alice were sitting at a small table outside, both with coffees in your hands.

"well, that explains the hickeys all over your neck" she said, pointing out the dark fresh marks decorating your neck and collarbones.

"oh my god, are they THAT obvious?!" you responded covering your neck with your hands, completely embarrassed.

"I noticed them as soon as you walked in, you are gonna have to invest on some good concealer or a scarf" you laughed at her remark, but your laughter stopped the moment you saw Shane walking in.

"fuck, that is the girl I hooked up with last night!" you whispered to Alice, pointing at her under the table and trying to hide your face. Al turned to look at Shane's direction, and then turned again to look at you with wide eyes and a shocked expression.

"Shane?! You arrived from New York one fucking week ago and Shane already fucked you?? this is so fucking ridiculous, its like she has a radar for every girl she hasn't fucked yet!"

"shut up, Al! shit, she's coming, act normal" you said, freaking out.

"hey guys, didn't expect to see you here" Shane said, greeting you with a confused look on her face. Then, her eyes fell to your neck, noticing the dark hickeys and smirking.

"um, yeah... I just decided to grab a quick coffee with my friend on the way, Shane, this is Alice- " you nervously said.

"yeah, I know, we are very close" Shane says "unfortunately" Alice replies.

"well, see you both around, wish you luck with your deadline y/n" she says with a kind of sarcastic tone and turned around to go with Marina, Shane's shot of espresso already in her hand.

"what a tiny and crazy little world" you say, trying to process everything that happened in just an hour.

"crazy, yes.. but not tiny" Alice responds with a smirk on her face, already thinking of linking you to Shane and expanding her board.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

clic to read pt.1!

guysss please let me know if you want a part 3 and I will happily write it! I already have a lot of ideas. Hope you enjoyed and I'm very grateful for every repost, like or share you want to give.

(sorry again if there's any spelling or writing mistakes)

#lesbian #lesbian pride #lgbtq #shane mccutcheon #the l word #shane mccutheon smut #shane the l word #l word generation q #shane l word #sapphic smut #saphic #wlw love #shane x reader #shane mccutcheon x reader #lesbian shot

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meinkatzchen · 7 days ago

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I saw these lovely scarfs on pinterest and thought it'd be cool to see ren and mist in them. Also if it's not to much of a odd question, dose mist have a favourite plush too??

(also hope your okay and doing well too mein!!)

THIS IS SOOOO CUTE!!-`♡´-`♡´- I wanted to draw something wintery and here it is :3

Mist would definitely take a red scarf, it's her favorite color, Ren will then get the yellow scarf ₊˚⊹ᰔ

Ohhh, actually, while I was drawing this scene, so many ideas for "normal life" AU came to my mind. For example, Mist has never seen snow before, she was born in a place where there is no winter, so walking through snowy Canada with Ren would be amazing for her. But cat-girl also doesn't handle the cold as well as the heat, so fox-boy could carry something like a thermos of warm tea or take-away coffee for her, as a caring gesture to warm her up -`♡´-

As for her favorite plush, I think she really likes different plush bunnies and kittens, they are just so cute and fluffy!

Since we're talking about "normal life", I'll answer this question right away too.

This is a difficult question and I would like to believe that everything could be fine for them, that they, for example, would somehow escape or Strade would simply die, and they would be found, sent to therapy with specialists, but…I don't know- I can imagine their normal life within the AU, yes. But…the human psyche is a very delicate mechanism and some breakdowns in it can be suppressed, driven deep into the subconscious, but if some trigger happens, everything will burst out again and cause even more damage. I'm not trying to say that it is impossible to cure victims after kidnapping and violence, but it could be lifelong treatment, including going to a psychologist, taking medication, a lot of support from relatives and friends. But I still want to believe that they would have their own chance for a happy ending, even if their therapy lasted the rest of their lives.

#ask

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wchswift · 28 days ago

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hiii, it's me again 😭 oh God i'm sorry, i feel a bit pathetic here 😭 but i have another request :3

can you do modern day leopold (HE'S SO BAE I LOVE HIM SM) picking out flowers for his s/o cause he noticed his s/o is a bit down lately? (i took this idea from your prompt!) hope you don't minddd hehe

Petals for a Heavy Heart

Pairing: Leopold Mountbatten x Reader Summary: When Leopold notices that you haven't been looking well lately, he decides to pick out a bouquet of flowers to make you feel better and loved. Content: established relationship, feeling down, comfort, fluff, English isn’t my first language :) Word count: 932 notes: hello!! whatt no need to apologize I'm glad you sent me another request! And omg I'm so so happy it's for Leopold, I've been wanting to write something for him so much :3 I loved that you choosed the idea of the prompts, I ended up following your request more than the prompt itself, I hope I wrote it as you expected <3

The delicate chime of the flower shop bell rang as Leopold Mountbatten pushed open the glass door. A faint blush of winter lingered in the air outside, but the shop was warm, bathed in sunlight streaming through the large windows, illuminating rows upon rows of vibrant blooms. The soft fragrance of roses, daisies, and lavender mingled together, wrapping around Leopold like a comforting embrace.

His brows furrowed slightly as he scanned the room. He hadn’t stepped into a flower shop since his days of royal ceremonies—occasions when arrangements were chosen for him, not by him. But this time was different. This time, it was for you.

You’d been quieter than usual the past few days. The sparkle in your eyes had dimmed, and your usual wit had softened into something wistful. Leopold had noticed—how could he not? And while he wasn’t the type to smother with concern, he couldn’t just stand by and do nothing.

Flowers, he thought. Flowers could bring a little light back into your day.

“Good morning,” a cheery voice broke through his thoughts. A petite florist with a warm smile stood behind the counter, hands dusted with pollen. “Looking for something special?”

Leopold adjusted the collar of his cashmere coat. “Yes, actually. For… someone important to me.” He paused, feeling oddly self-conscious. “They’ve been feeling a bit down lately.”

The florist’s smile softened knowingly. “Ah, I see. Let’s find something that speaks to them. Do they have a favorite flower?”

Leopold’s lips curved into a small smile. “Orchids, I think. They’ve always had a fondness for them. Which symbolize purity, prosperity, and good health… So I guess might be appropriate.”

Her eyes lit up. “You know your flowers.”

Leopold’s lips curved into a faint smile. “I do. They’ve always been a subject of interest." Stepping closer to the flowers, he added smoothly, "We could also add some peonies. Symbolic of healing and happiness., an apt choice for the occasion.”

“Good choice,” the florist said, leading him toward a vibrant display of blush-pink blooms. “How about colors? Warm tones are uplifting, while softer hues can be calming.”

He considered this, his gaze lingering on the rich reds and delicate whites. He thought of how your laughter once filled their apartment, how it now felt like something fragile and fleeting. “Something warm but soft,” he decided, pointing toward the pink and coral-colored peonies. “They’re understated but still… hopeful.”

As the florist began assembling the bouquet, Leopold found himself wandering through the aisles, his fingers grazing petals and leaves. Each bloom seemed to hold its own personality—vibrant sunflowers, gentle baby’s breath, elegant lilies. He plucked a sprig of lavender from a nearby basket, its scent reminding him of the evenings you spent curled up on the couch, a lavender-scented candle flickering nearby. Lavender is also for tranquility. He hummed and added it to the mix.

Back at the counter, the florist held up the arrangement. “What do you think?”

It was perfect—beautiful orchids with peonies in soft shades of coral and blush, accented with sprigs of lavender and tiny white asters. The bouquet was cheerful yet gentle, a reflection of everything he wanted to say without words.

Leopold nodded. “It’s lovely. Thank you.”

As he handed over his card to pay, the florist wrapped the bouquet in delicate paper and tied it with a ribbon. “I hope they feel better soon,” she said warmly.

Leopold smiled faintly. “I think this will help.”

When he arrived home, you were curled up on the couch, a blanket draped over your shoulders. The soft glow of the afternoon sun painted your features, but your eyes were distant, lost in thought.

“Darling,” he said, his voice breaking the quiet. You glanced up, a flicker of surprise crossing your face as you noticed the bouquet in his hands.

“What’s this?” you asked, sitting up as he approached.

“For you,” he said simply, handing you the flowers. “I noticed you’ve been feeling… off. I thought these might help.”

Your eyes widened as you took the bouquet, fingers brushing over the soft petals. The fragrance enveloped you, a gentle blend of peony and lavender. A smile, small but genuine, tugged at your lips. “Leopold, this is… really thoughtful.”

He sat down beside you, his posture casual, but his eyes intent on your face. “I'm not the best at expressing what I want through words,” he admitted. “But I wanted you to know I’m here. Whatever’s on your mind, you don't have to go through it alone.”

Your gaze softened, and for the first time in days, the weight on your chest felt just a little lighter. “Thank you,” you murmured, leaning your head against his shoulder. “You’re amazing, you know that?”

He smirked, Leopold’s hand rested lightly on yours, his thumb tracing small circles over your skin. “It’s hardly a grand gesture,” he said, his tone lightly self-deprecating. “But if it brings even a fraction of your smile back, then it has served its purpose.”

But as he felt you relax beside him, your breath evening out, he knew it wasn’t about being amazing. It was about being there for you—in every small, quiet way that mattered.

And at that moment, surrounded by the soft glow of the afternoon and the delicate fragrance of flowers, he was content with the room feeling a little warmer, a little brighter—a reflection of the unspoken love between you.

𖤐 reblogs and feedback are appreciated! requests are also welcome, ty!

#꣖ ີ ꣓ writes.#hugh jackman #hugh jackman x f! reader #hugh jackman x reader #leopold mountbatten x reader #kate and leopold #leopold mountbatten #kate and leopold fanfic #leopold mountbatten fanfic #leopold mountbatten x f! reader #request

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slasherx · 9 months ago

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Gurl you write so fast like a Machine 😂, I wish I could write like that, and also good luck with your finals!

Can I do a request for A Micheal Myers with a childhood crush (female) like as a kid Michael had a crush on the reader but like after he killed they were separated for years but them micheal broke out and came across the reader all grown up if you can!

Also can you do Rz Michael, he's my favorite

Lol thats cause I have the motivation to write about slashers rn. And thank you! I got a 94% on one of them, but I won't get my final grade on the other one for a bit. I hope I pass.

Content: Michael Myers x fem!Reader

Warnings: Canon-typical violence, obsessive love

Notes: Even though the gif is peepaw Myers, this takes place in the RZ universe

• ───────────────── •

Michael was put away in the asylum when he was ten. Before he made a vow to never speak again, he kept asking his mother and Dr. Loomis where you were, and if you could come visit him. His mother promised to talk to your parents about it, but that she couldn't guarantee you could come see him.

And so she did. She tried talking to your parents, but your parents wanted you nowhere near that monster of a child. They outright refused her on numerous occasions, even when Michael's mother pleaded with them on her knees at their front door.

When she broke the news to Michael that you wouldn't be seeing him, Michael lost it. He could feel something in his head snap, the same way it snapped when bullies would hurt you or him. Or the same way he felt himself snap that Halloween night.

He managed to keep it cool until Dr. Loomis and his mother left, but when they sent in that nurse to watch him until they could escort him to his room, he couldn't hold it in any longer. He took his plastic fork and jammed it into her throat, cutting her scream short. He was angry. Why wouldn't you come see him? Why? Why, why, why? He didn't understand...he thought you were best friends.

• ───────────────── •

Eight years after that day, he had a visitor that wasn't Dr. Loomis. He had known his mother killed herself, his sister was dead, and Boo was probably far away in the foster care system, so he had hoped it was you.

When they sat him in the room, he had felt anxious for the first time in years. Had you changed like he had? Did you grow out your hair like him? Grown taller like him? He kept a mask on, one he made in rememberance of you. It was just your favorite color all over it.

Finally, you walked in and sat down across from Michael. A couple guards stood at the door, in case Michael tried to leap at you regardless of his cuffs chaining him to the table. He was breathing heavily - you had changed.

You had grown taller, but you remained shorter than him. Now at eighteen, you seemed very mature for your age, and Michael wanted to leap across the table at you, but not to kill you.

"Hi Michael. My parents don't know I'm here. I just...came to provide an explanation, since I feel you deserve one." You spoke, hands in your lap. "Your mother begged my parents to let me see you on many occasions, and each time they told her no. I remember one time she cried and got on her knees to beg my mother, but she just shut the door in her face."

Michael listened, quiet as ever. He was just happy to see you in front of him again. He was also surprised that Dr. Loomis wasn't here to supervise this meeting.

"And I want you to know that Dr. Loomis has contacted me since I turned eighteen, and we've spoken about you a couple of times. He told me you don't speak anymore, and that you killed a nurse while being in here." You decided it was now or never to try and break his vow of silence. "Is...is that true, Michael?"

Michael wanted to break his silence, but he knew Loomis would be on his ass if he did. So all he did was nod his head yes.

You seemed to shift uncomfortably. Your breathing increased, and he could tell you were scared. This saddened him - he didn't want you to be scared of him, he wanted you to love him. You two were attached to each other as children, why would a few murders make this any different?

"I...think I better go before my parents realize I'm not at my friends house." You started to get up, when Michael launched at you and grabbed your wrist, straining the cuffs on him.

He held you hard, and you could see the desperation in his eyes. He was all alone here. But he still killed those people, and if you weren't careful, you'd be next. The guards moved forward and forced Michael back, and a few more people rushed into the room. One rushed to you and put his hands on your shoulders.

"Ma'am, ma'am, are you alright?" The man asked.

You nodded. "Yeah, thank you." It was too fast for you to process it, but Michael was staring at you. "Please, take me out of here."

• ───────────────── •

Now outside, you saw Dr. Loomis by your car. He was pacing, clearly nervous about your meeting with Michael. Then when he saw you approach, he waved to you.

"How did it go?"

"Please don't talk to me. I shouldn't have come here." You responded shakily.

"What happened in there? Did he break his silence?"

"No, but he fucking grabbed me! Who knows what else he would have done if the guards hadn't been there?! I was crazy to even come here." You opened your car door and got inside.

"Please, wait, (Y/n). You don't know how much you mean to Michael, I-"

"Save it, Dr. Loomis. I'm going home. Stop calling me." You started up your car and peeled out of the parking lot. Memories of you and Michael as kids began to race through your head and you began to cry. How did it come to this...?

• ───────────────── •

Seven more years went by. Seven more years where Michael didn't see you. Seven more angry years. But now, it was different. Michael was standing in front of your house.

He was different now. He was more built, even taller, and his hair was even longer. You used to comment on his long hair as a kid, it was one of the reasons he kept it so long in the first place.

He could see you through the window. You lived alone now, just down the street from your childhood home. He was content watching you through the window. You were preparing dinner, when you suddenly got a call. He decided now was the time to enter your home.

Moving around to the back door, he began to pick the lock.

"Hello?" You picked up your phone.

With a click, he was in.

"(Y/n)! You need to listen to me-" Dr. Loomis practically shouted on the other line.

Michael slowly opened the door.

"Save it, Dr. Loomis. I told you to stop calling me." You were about to hang up.

Michael made his way to your living room, right next to your kitchen.

"He's escaped! Michael has escaped!"

"What?" You spoke, shock and fear tearing through your system. You put a hand over your mouth, and looked up through your window, but you saw a figure behind you.

"You're not safe! Flee Haddonfield!" Dr. Loomis begged.

You spun around to see a large man with a knife glistening in his hand. He had a white mask on, blonde hair poking out underneath it. You didn't need him to take off the mask to see who it was. Your fear skyrocketed as you thought he was going to kill you.

"Michael...?" You spoke, slowly lowering the phone and ignoring Dr. Loomis' pleas.

Michael moved towards you. He finally had you now, and he would never let you go again. He was yours, and you will be his.

• ───────────────── •

Here's my masterlist, in case you like what you see and want to request more!

#michael myers x reader #rob zombie halloween #michael myers #slashers x reader #slashers

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punksyeet · 1 month ago

Text

- Kiss At Midnight ❥

Plot: While reminiscing on a rough 2024, fate brings Gianna (OC) exactly what - well more like who - she needs.

Warnings: Fluff, fluff, and more fluff! <3

A/N: happy new year, friends! i wish you all the happiest and healthiest of blessings for this year. hope you enjoy this one! 🥂💗

—————————————————————————————————

The neighborhood is buzzing with excitement, as 2025 is just under twenty minutes away.

The faint sound of clinking glasses, laughter, and people singing along to performances being made on television pour from inside the house.

While I'd normally be celebrating at a New Year's Eve party, I'm currently sitting out in my friend Trinity's backyard, reminiscing on how hard this past year was for me.

Between family drama, going through a horrific breakup, upon so many other things, it's just been a really hard year.

So hard that, evidently, I can't seem to get away from it.

I just want 2025 to be different. So badly.

I'm snapped out of my thoughts when the sliding door opens, causing me to look back.

In the doorway stands a gorgeous guy, almost identical looking to Trin's husband Jonathan.

Covered in similar looking cultural tattoos, the perfect shade of caramel skin, fluffy curls and beard perfectly groomed, and big gorgeous brown eyes.

My breath hitches in my throat at the sight of him.

"You alright?" the guy asks, stepping outside and closing the door behind him.

I nod, looking back towards the rest of the yard in front of me. "Fine, thanks."

"No worries," he responds, walking over. "Sorry to interrupt, I didn't think anyone would be out here. Mind if I sit?"

I shrug, shaking my head. "Not at all."

He brings over a chair and sits, setting his red Solo cup down in front of him.

After a moment of comfortable silence, he clears his throat.

"I don't think we've met," he begins, holding out his hand. "I'm Josh."

I give him a soft smile and take it. "Gianna."

From the moment our hands touch, butterflies immediately take over my body.

"Beautiful name," he compliments. "Fitting for a beautiful lady."

"Thank you," I reply, smiling and looking down, blushing like a maniac.

He chuckles in response.

After a minute or two of more silence, he breaks it again.

"If you don't mind me asking," he starts. "Why are you out here? The party is inside, you know."

I awkwardly swirl my drink in my cup. "Just...thinking. I guess."

He nods in response, taking a sip from his. "I feel that."

"But," he continues, nudging me gently. "If you wanna think out loud, I'm a good listener."

I chuckle, looking back at him. "Thanks for the offer. But I think it would bore you."

"Hey," he replies, leaning back in his seat. "Boring or not, I'm a man that likes good conversation. Lay it on me."

I shake my head, smiling. "2024 wasn't the kindest to me, that's all."

His smile fades and a tone of empathy appears in his voice. "Wanna talk about it?"

"It was just," I respond quietly, tears forming in my eyes. "A lot."

"Hey hey," he wraps me in his arms, stroking my hair once I accept his offer. "Shh. It's alright."

My head laid against his chest, I take deep breaths and wipe my eyes.

"Sorry," I mutter, pulling away after about a minute. "I didn't mean to get all sappy this early into our encounter."

He chuckles, wrapping a friendly arm around me. "Sometimes tears are the best medicine."

I give him a soft smile as he wipes a stray tear away and strokes my face with his thumb.

After about five minutes of me yapping his ears off and good conversation, the faint sound of everyone counting down inside takes over.

Ten!

Nine!

Eight!

Seven!

Six!

"Thanks for listening Josh," I exclaim, looking deep into his gorgeous brown eyes and placing my hand in his.

He smiles and kisses it. "You're welcome, beautiful."

I smile, blushing once again, as he takes a strand of hair out of my face.

Five!

Four!

Three!

Two!

One!

Cheers erupt and, as if on cue, colorful fireworks light up the night sky.

Josh and I watch them for a moment in silence, until I speak up.

"They're beautiful," I coo, watching bright red and pink colors explode.

"They are," he agrees, before looking down at me. "But they've got nothing on you."

I look back down at him and smile, as he reaches out to cup my face.

"Happy New Year love," he says, flashing me a gorgeous smile.

"Happy New Year Josh," I reply, my voice just above a whisper.

We lean in and our lips meet in a passionate kiss.

My arms find the back of his neck, while his find my waist.

While caressing my lower back and sides, he pulls away and our foreheads touch gently.

"You're a good kisser," he compliments, a hint of goofiness in his voice.

We share a laugh as he wraps me in his arms and I lay my head on his chest.

"What do you say we get outta here?" he asks, rubbing my back.

I nod. "My place is just five minutes away. You can crash there."

He agrees and we go back inside, say our goodbyes, and head out.

—————————————————————————————————

"You can wear these," I exclaim, handing Josh a pair of plaid pajama pants. "They're huge on me."

He chuckles and holds them out in front of him. "They should be good. Thank you, mama."

I smile and we share a quick kiss before I go in the bathroom and hop in the shower.

Afterwards, while I'm in the mirror doing my nightly routine, there's a knock at the door.

"Come in," I call out, brushing through my curls.

A shirtless Joshua Fatu appears in my doorway and I nearly fall to my knees.

"Good," I begin, scanning his lower half. "They fit nicely."

He nods, sliding his hands in the pockets.

"I might have to steal them," he teases, wrapping his arms around me and watching us through the mirror.

I chuckle, applying moisturizer to my face. "Go right ahead. I can't walk two feet without them falling."

He laughs and nuzzles his face in my neck, giving me light kisses. "You smell good."

"Yep a shower will do that," I tease, rinsing excess product off my hands.

"Okay smarty pants," he replies, playfully smacking my butt.

I giggle and turn to face him. "You're cute when you're sassy."

He glares at me and I kiss his lower lip before taking his hand. "Come on. Let's get in bed."

Once we're in bed, he pulls the overs over us and wraps me into his arms.

"Your tattoos are so pretty," I compliment, tracing his lion with my index finger.

He smiles proudly and kisses my forehead. "Thank you, baby. This one used to be a cross."

My mouth drops open in shock. "No way!"

He nods, chuckling. "Got it when I was in high school. My artist fixed it up for me a few years ago."

"I bet you were a chick magnet back then," I tease, nudging him playfully.

He shakes his head. "Nah, that was all Jon. Lots of girlfriends, prom king, you name it."

My eyes widen. "Really?"

"Mhm," he hums in response. "I was with my ex wife all four years. We never split until about a year and a half ago. Never really got into another relationship after that."

"Well," he corrects himself. "Until tonight that is."

I give him a soft smile and we share a peck on the lips.

"I'm so happy we met tonight," I coo, running a hand through his hair. "It's like fate. I was having such a hard time before talking to you."

He smiles and strokes my side under the blanket. "Same here, baby. I'm confident that 2025 is gonna be the best year now that I'm with you."

I stick out my bottom lip and he kisses my cheek softly.

We hold each other once more and I slowly drift off to sleep against his chest.

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siolixz · 3 months ago

Text

~Veils of Crimson~

Chapter 3

Pairings: oz cobb x reader (Carmine Falcone's daughter)

Chapter three is here!! We got Al's ya-know-what in this one and maybe a more intimate moment with our fav big scary man, too :)All jokes aside, from here on, the chapters overall are gonna get much darker, that's what I initially wanted with this story-I don't know yet if reader is gonna be happy in the end, I mean, I paired her up with the guy that killed her brother, tried to light her dad up in front of the whole police department and we still have yet to see what he's gonna do with Sofia. Also, there will be no “cat fight” or big interaction between reader and Eve, I hate that shit, lets say Oz stopped sleeping with her some time before reader comes back home,mkay?Remember we are seeing this through the eyes of the reader, shes infatuated with him and naive in a way. Please take everything I wrote and I'm gonna write with a grain of salt, this is fiction and Oz "The Penguin" Cobb ain't a nice guy and that's okay, I don't wanna change him-I wanna make him worse!

Again, I took my inspo from Driving Miss Falcone by (https://www.tumblr.com/genevievedarcygranger here on tumblr), check out the story if you can.

Enjoy, give feeback if u want xoxo.

Warnings: mature language, smut (not in this chapter sorry AGAIN next chapter i pinky swear), general horniness.

“You’re just as gorgeous as I remember.”

It felt nice hearing him say that. You hoped that the nerves you felt inside didn’t show up on your face as well.

“Nice car, Oz.” You simply couldn’t help yourself from mentioning that. “Purple’s a nice color.”

He raised an eyebrow and, while still smiling, said, “Well technically it's plum- but I know, right?”

“We three of us have a lot of catching up to do. Why don’t we go for dinner?” your sister interjected.

Oz tore his eyes off of you when hearing her. “Sure, we cou—”

“How about right now?”

Once seated at the restaurant and after ordering some food, Sofia was the first to break the awkward silence.

“Are you nervous, Oz? I would hate for you to be nervous with me. ‘Cause despite what you might think, I don’t blame you.” Okay, here she goes. “I mean if you haven’t gone to my father.”

Oz started fiddling around, smoothing out the tablecloth. “He left you no choice.”

When the food arrived, Sofia had no qualms digging in like a neanderthal, so Oz and you chatted about the last few years, like nothing changed. Except, things did change. Oz ran the Iceberg Lounge; he served as your father’s lieutenant of sorts, and from what you understood, he also ran the drops operation. He asked you about life in Europe and if you missed it. You told him that nothing compares to Gotham.

“Yeah, you’re right about that one, kid.” You don’t know why, but Oz seemed really lost in thought after that comment. He seemingly stopped saying anything and just looked at you.

“I’m so sorry to interrupt this little love affair you guys got going on, but I would also like to ask Oz a few things.” Sofia was done eating and now was on her second martini. Great, she's going to dig into him now.

“Alberto told me he was going to your club last night to get to our father’s loft. I—well, we—” she gestured toward you, “wanted to join, but he has been so protective over us lately that he didn’t want us leaving the house. It was all part of this plan; it was our shared secret. But today I hear you talk about revolutionizing the drug business.” Sofia was right to mention that. How on earth did he know?

“How do you know about his plan?” she continued. “And why on earth would you pitch it as your own? You know, it’s so brazen that you either have to be blindingly stupid or wildly confident that he isn't coming back to reclaim it. So I ask you again: do you know where our brother is?” she asked.

“Listen, Sofia—” Oz glanced at you. “You two are the surprise here.”

“Excuse me?”

“Al never told me you guys were back or that you were in on this thing with us.” All right, so that explains things. “You know me and my stupid mouth. Ya know, I screwed up. Maybe you could put in a good word. I—I don’t wanna put that on you, but he was so passionate about his plan, I thought there was no reason not to move forward, just because he is on another bender, you know the shipment arrives in a few days, right?”

Bender? What was Oz talking about?

“Bender? What do you mean, a bender?” you interrupted.

Oz moved his eyes toward you and said, “Al’s an addict, sweetheart.” You could see him trying to break this news as softly as he could. “He’s got a penchant for drops.” He looked at your sister again. “And booze and gambling, and I’m pretty sure he’s got a sex thing too-so yeah- but look, this isn’t the first time he has gone AWOL. He always comes back.” Oz continued, “And if he was at my club last night—I wouldn’t know. I was actually drowning my sorrows with my lady friend last night, Eve.”

So Oz has a girlfriend. That’s interesting.

“But if it makes you feel better, we can go there right now, scour the joint—I doubt anything is gonna turn up, but it’s worth a shot, whatever will put minds at ease.”

“You know what? You’re right. I think we are both just being crazy. He’s probably gonna turn up. Let's stay in and enjoy our meal.” your sister said.

As you were all ready to leave, you couldn’t help but feel jealous. Eve—what a lucky lady. You wondered what she probably does for a living—you could certainly find out. It’s been five years, you know, expecting anyone to stay celibate in order to wait for you, if you even arrived at all, was unnatural.

After your sister put on her coat, she got on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. She whispered something in his ear you had no idea what, but he looked once again frustrated, lost in thought. Maybe Oz was lying. Maybe not. She immediately disappeared outside, leaving you all alone with him. If she kissed his cheek, now you gotta do that too. Thanks, Sofia.

He winked at you and said, “Next dinner’s on me, all right, doll? You still owe me one after you left me hanging.” He smiled, flashing those gold teeth of his.

Raising your eyebrows, you asked him, “You remember?”

“Of course I do.”

“All right, Oz, you got a deal.” You smiled and raised yourself up to hug him properly. He was one big man. He wrapped his big arms around you and you felt so warm. Being this close to him, smelling him and holding him like this felt almost euphoric. “I missed you,” you said, your voice low enough so that only he could hear. You didn’t want any prying ears to run to the press, even if you did know they would after seeing you and Sofia back in Gotham at a very expensive restaurant.

He lowered his voice and told you, “Missed you too, doll.”

The road home was very quiet. Sofia was too busy looking things up on her phone. Every once in a while, you would mention something, like the floods or the spike in crime ever since your dad passed. You say “passed” so you don’t have to say, “he was shot dead by a crazy maniac while being arrested with the literal entire police department next to him.” Life feels so weird lately, like a dream. With your dad being gone, Al has to step up.

Now, the thing about being a mob boss was that once you die, there is always gonna be a power vacuum. Like sharks, all your enemies and friends are gonna push themselves so they can get to the top; best man will win.

Once in a while, she would acknowledge you with a nod or a tiny smile, but nothing compared to the hour-long conversations you guys used to have. You knew she was angry at Oz, at your family for writing all those letters that solidified her reason to stay there—anyone would be. Arkham was a jungle; it was eat or be eaten—but this quest for vengeance, this anger inside of her, was going to eat her alive. You knew that. Alberto told you all about her fears and how she felt.

Alberto, God, you hoped he was okay. You loved your brother; he was rash and careless, quick to anger and naive in his arrogance—but he was still your brother. He should be running the show; he deserved it.

As you looked outside, you saw some of the destruction that those floods brought. Maybe you and your sister could help make things right for some of these people; maybe you could redirect a percentage of the money toward helping them rebuild Gotham, rebuild the Falcone’s reputation.

She declined your request. Of course she did; why would we help them? “We have so many problems on our back right now,” she said, and while true, you also heard what Oz said. He wouldn’t lie to you or your sister like that, right?

As the hours passed, Sofia became more and more restless. She HAD to find him. You too were worried sick. You wanted to go with her to search the Iceberg Lounge, but she said it’s more important for you to stay, so nothing bad happens to you too. All right, you stayed.

In the meantime, you talked to Viti and Milos. Maybe you could help the family’s reputation. They looked at you like you told them you were gonna start stripping. So you did what you could and sold some of your old clothes, jewels, and shoes that day. You knew just the guy that would buy your stuff; he was surprised to see you but happy. Unlike the people that saw your sister again, you were happy—so very happy. All that money went to a good cause, you could finally appear on the news for a good thing and you weren’t gonna wear some of those old things anyway. As you texted your aunt, when you arrived back home; a car sped past you and crashed into the fountain.

What the hell?

Sofia exited the greenhouse, dressed in all black, like she was going to a funeral. You yelled out her name, scared that a bomb would go off when she got close to the car. Everyone else exited the house- armed guards ready for whatever the fuck that noise was.

The door to the driver's seat was open, and a brick was placed on the gas pedal. You weren’t close enough to see what she was looking at when she opened the trunk; you only read the writing on top: ‘PAYBACK.’

What the fuck was this?

The scream your sister let out was unlike anything you ever heard, and then you knew.

Your brother was dead.

Not long after the discovery of his body you learned who could be responsible for it. Your brother was murdered by the only people crazy or powerful enough to go after the Falcone family—the Maronis.

If Sal Maroni had the sort of power to do something like that while in jail, what else was he capable of? What was his next step? Was he going to go after your sister and then you?

You had to push those thoughts aside. The news of your brother's murder was blasted on every news outlet in the city, and you were constantly reminded of how dangerous this life, that you didn’t even choose—neither you nor your siblings—truly was. You needed to be protected.

A man like Carmine Falcone struck fear in the hearts of his enemies and, well, he struck fear in the hearts of everybody—no one dared to touch you or even look at you weird or disrespectfully.

You knew that Sofia was never going to be allowed to be in charge—she was a woman AND a certified crazy woman at that—so Viti called your uncle Luca to come over and step up as the boss. Another slap directed toward your sister.

As she explained to you, the family’s operation of Drops was being moved. You were losing a lot of profit with those terrible floods and all.

Viti and Milos didn’t even care about the “family” or your guys’ reputation; they couldn’t care less about your sister or you. The more quiet you were, the better.

Well, Sofia wasn’t like that—in times like these, most especially in times like these, you needed all hands on deck.

Every day you checked the news. First thing in the morning, a small part of you hoped you would see your brother there, with the news that he was alive after all—that everything was just a dream. His funeral was tomorrow, and you didn’t even know if you had the strength to get up, get dressed, do your makeup, and then be surrounded by like a hundred people.

As you lay in bed, texting your aunt, filling her in with all the information you could remember about your current situation, you heard cars screech in front of the mansion. A shiver ran up your spine; you stopped dead from texting and tried to listen to what was happening downstairs. You were terrified—were these the Maronis? Coming to kill all of you?

When you heard all the familiar voices of your armed guards in the house, you were relieved but still worried. You ran out of your room as quickly as your slippers allowed.

You saw Oz come inside, brows furrowed, hot and heavy and all bloodied, you ran to him.

“Oz! Are you okay? What—what happened?” you asked.

“Yeah—yeah I’m okay, those sons of bitches caught—” he started, but Viti interrupted him.

“OZ! Come inside, tell us what happened, now.”

He looked at you apologetically, but you told him to go.

While Oz was yelling inside, you were listening to Castillo’s retelling of what happened: the Maronis attacked the shipment, so the situation was clear—this was an all-out gang war.

Not long after, your sister came home as well. You exchanged quick hellos, but she bolted into the meeting room, conveniently leaving the door slightly ajar—an invitation. Get your ass inside; Dad’s dead, everything has gone to shit, and you’re not 19 anymore.

You followed her in, touching her side affectionately as you passed to let her know you were there for her. Oz was still yelling about how he saved the men there, and Viti was very fucking pissed. You leaned back against the table overlooking the men sitting there. It felt like an episode of a reality show.

“Is that all you care about? The product? The money we lost?” Sofia said, smoking.

Oz glanced at you and gave you a quick smile.

“We can get more money, gentlemen. I think you’re missing the point here—the Maronis humiliated our family. They took my brother and shoved his body in the trunk of a car—like he was a piece of trash.” Ugh, maybe you should’ve just gone to your room. “He deserves justice.”

“Look, Sofia, we all cared for Alberto—” Milos started.

“Well, I doubt that, Milos. I really do. Justice is what matters, and that is what my brother, your nephew, deserves,” she said, pointing at your uncle, Luca.

“WHY AREN’T HIS KILLERS STRUNG UP ACROSS THE CITY?!” she shouted. Okay, maybe that was a bit much, you thought. Killing them would be enough, geez.

“When the time is right, the Maronis will pay,” Johnny said.

“Well, if they knew our route, they weren’t working alone. There must be someone on the inside” Everyone turned towards you and the tension in the room was palpable. " helping them—someone in our own family.”

“How dare you two come in here, like you mean something,” Viti sneered, God you hated this asshole. “You don’t call the shots around here—”

“Johnny!” your uncle stopped him from insulting you. “Neither do you. And those are my nieces you’re talking to. Show them some fucking respect! " Luca said. Viti called both your names and apologized, but you could see the insincerity behind his eyes, almost like he was mocking you with the way he apologized.

Luca instructed everyone on what they had to do, and the meeting broke up-he called it a night.

“Do you need anything from me, boss?” Oz asked.

“You’ve done enough,” Luca replied, his voice firm.

As everyone started to leave, you told Oz the hour of the funeral tomorrow. He urged you to get some rest and promised he would see you then.

On your way upstairs, you heard him stop Sofia. You didn’t catch much of their conversation, just something about being desperate.

The next day, at the funeral, the press, the photographs, the protests—it was all too much. You couldn’t find Oz either and you wanted to get home so bad. You quickly went to the bathroom to gather yourself, and when you came back, you spotted him.

“Hey. I didn't see you in there. I thought you didn’t come,” you said, relief washing over you.

“You looked for me?” he asked, surprise in his voice.

“Yes, of course. You promised,” you replied, stepping closer. The suit he wore reminded you of a simpler time; when he was just your driver.

“How are you holding up, kid?” he asked, his empathy evident.

“I’m okay, for the most part. He shouldn’t have gone the way he did. The Maronis will pay, I’m sure.”

“Yeah, they will. I promise.” Standing with him, overlooking the crowd below, you felt a mix of despair and hope. “You know, I’m very well aware that the mob needs a strong hand—an iron fist—to lead it. But an iron fist can be gentle too. It all depends on who has it.”

There was a pause as he took in your words. He nodded, took a deep breath, and continued, “You know, we didn’t have a service for my brothers.” You felt a pang of sorrow for him, knowing how deeply the loss affected him. He went on about his mother, how grief consumed her, how one day-all of a sudden- she got out of bed, told him to get ready and they went dancing to lift her spirits. You knew his brothers were dead and his mom too, but he nevet told you this story.

He looked into your eyes, then at your lips, then back into your eyes. Did he want to kiss you? Oh no, was your lipstick smeared?

“Do you want to go with me to listen to some music and eat some good food one of these days? You promised.” he asked, and excitement bubbled inside you.

“What about Eve, or whatever her name was.” You asked.

He was surprised by your question but he nevertheless told you “Theres all sorts of friends out there, no?” Ok, whatever that means.

"Yeah-sure I'll go. You kept your promise, I'll keep mine, plus I owe you." you said, trying to hide your enthusiasm.

"I'll have my driver-" he started

“You have a driver?” you didn't mean it to sound so stuck up, shit.

“Yeah, I do. What? You think a club owner doesn’t have one?” Oz joked, you were so glad he wasn't bothered by that comment, maybe he knew you didn't mean it like that.

For the first time in a week, you felt genuinely excited about something.

As the funeral dragged on, your mind wandered to what you would wear. You settled on a stunning Yves Saint Laurent dress from the '90s—black velvet, understated yet elegant. You added Oz’s gift from long ago as your necklace and a pair of Tiffany earrings to complete the look. To avoid drawing attention, you had your driver take you to the restaurant instead of arriving together.

When you arrived, Oz was already seated. As soon as he noticed you, he gave a low whistle and flashed that dazzling smile of his. You walked over, and with your heels clicking on the floor, you greeted him with a kiss on the cheek. God, he smelled amazing.

You couldn’t help but notice the stares from the other patrons. A beautiful woman smiling ear to ear with the scariest man they’d ever seen—it was a spectacle.

As Oz took your jacket and helped you get seated, you soaked in the atmosphere of the restaurant. It was bustling but cozy, with soft lighting and a stage at the center where musicians were preparing to play.

“You look gorgeous, I mean, wow,” Oz said, his gaze lingering on you, especially your breasts "Nice necklace you got."

“Well thank you! You don’t look too bad yourself. Nice seat you picked out; we can see everything from here,” you replied, smiling at him

“Yeah, I know the owner- he made us a reservation yesterday. This place is a big deal, ya know?”

“I figured-there's a lot of people-all looking at us.” You wondered if they recognized you.

He chuckled to himself “Ha, trust me doll they are sure as shit all looking at you.”

Your waiter came by and by the time the performance started you already drank half the wine they poured for you.

The songs were amazing, the food great, the performance was amazing-it was loud, but not too loud so you couldn’t hear each other speak- and the company, whew, the company, was out of this world.

You shared with Oz memories from France and you guys reminisced about the sort of bullshit you used to be up to, from sneaking out to maxing out one of your dad’s credit cards. You don’t remember the last time you laughed this hard.

“Oh this is one of my favorite songs.” Oz said and you quieted down to listen to the music, as he looked at the performance, you had some time to look at him in this light.

You thought he was one of the most handsome men you ever saw in your life, the scar that ran up from his top lip to his cheekbones, gave him this look about him -mysterious and dangerous- he could kill someone in cold blood and then be the sweetest man in the whole world-I mean, what's there not to like?

His brown eyes had such a gorgeous shine. Sure, his hair was thinning at the top and no one in a million years would expect a girl your age and status to be with someone like him. But there was something more about Oz, this charisma he had, he could talk his way out of anything, you wondered what else he could do with that tongue.

The wine is starting to speak now, maybe regular you as well.

He noticed your wine glass being empty and he grabbed the bottle from the table and filled it up again.

“Thank you.” you giggled. God you wanted him to kiss you.

He smiled at you.

“You wanna dance?” he said, gesturing with his head towards the dance floor in the middle of the room, 5 couples were already dancing together and even if you had two left feet, slow dancing was another thing, he leads, you follow-you were way more comfortable with that.

You didn’t answer him, you just got up and followed him to the dance floor.

Now everyone has a reason to stare at you.

“How do you feel? Better?” he asked. You were so close to him, you could stretch your neck and kiss him

“Yeah, I do feel better. Thank you.. for this.” you answered, this wine man, you don’t know what they put in it but it's good.

The pause that followed wasn’t awkward or uncomfortable, you were both staring at each other and Oz broke the silence

“You know” he started chuckling to himself more like “I think you might be the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen.”

“Yeah right”

You didn’t even notice when you got so close to his face or when his lips pressed against yours, all you knew your stomach was doing jumping jacks and that you wanted to break out in a smile-which you did.

It was a very sweet kiss, but rudely interrupted by Oz whispering in your face

“I shouldn’t have done that.”

This time you kissed him, the scar on his lip felt so peculiar, but nice too.

After your little make out sesh on the dance floor the music stopped and you were forced to do the walk of shame back to your seats. Some of the older people there gave you some dirty looks, like-couldn't you two get a room- maybe it was that, maybe they thought it was wrong to be kissing a much older man-who was clearly- a gangster.

After you two got to your seats, you checked your phone and your smile and good disposition disappeared immediately when you finally saw that you had around 15 missed calls and about 10 messages from Sofia-the last one reading:

“WHERE ARE YOU?”

Author's note: These past few days I've been writing like crazy. It feels nice to be passionate about things. Thank you for reading. Next chapter is gonna be up tmrw, probs.

#the penguin #oz cobb #the penguin tv #oswald cobb x reader #oswald cobblepot #oz cobb x reader #the penguin hbo #the penguin x reader

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chilahh16 · 8 months ago

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" This is where I leave you."

People say that the hardest thing in love is seeing the love of your life happy with another. They're not so wrong. However, they also failed to tell others that leaving the very person that has became your world, the very air you breath, and the reason for sunshine in the morning is painstakingly arduous and painful.

If only she was given a heads-up, she would have held on tightly as the foundation of their love crumble as every season pass.

Y/n L/n did not know when everything started to change. When the colors so vivid started to dim and the love as red as his dream car faded. She can still remember the very first time she held his hand, the first hugs, kiss, and the first of everything. She and Charles loved each other as if the love they have is the only right thing there is. Maybe it is at one point. Because looking back, she came to realize that she had become a liability to him.

As Charles Leclerc continue to soar in the world of racing, Y/n felt that she has been holding him down - stopping him from reaching his true potential. They are two worlds completely differing each other. As he stands and bask in the spotlight, she found peace in the shadows. They walk in fame and peace, separately, and that's when the support she had been giving was not enough, no more. That even when their love clings on to the hope that this can be overcome just like the other times it did, it seemed that their love has its limit. From the whispers of people to the unending hungry stares of women wanting a piece of him, as though he is a prize in a game, caused cracks in their hardened relationship that stood proudly with time.

Y/n loved him too much that she stood by him. Through the ups and downs, the laughter and tears, and to the most painful of times. She was beside him when Jules passed; she became his rock and comfort. Even that was not enough for the world is cruel. It did not give their love time to blossom beautifully, it withered and died unwittingly.

Now, 6 years later, everything has changed so as everyone. But it seemed he did not. Looking as the blazing red car seamlessly turn and sped off to the finish line, proved her theory. His dream still stand firm and she was grateful she was there to witness as he stands victorious in his home race. Maybe everything did not change, because if it is, then it wouldn't hurt this much. The memories of the past still fresh in her mind - his tear stained face, the broken sobs and the tight arms that envelop her, haunted her for years and it was at this moment that she felt its full force. A wave of nausea hit her as she stands looking up at her past love. She could no longer stop the tears as she sobbed and held her chest as he proudly give honor to Jules and Herve above.

'He did it Jules, Herve. He conquered Monaco and they love him back.'

Hence, she turned her back one last time. Just like she did all those years ago. How she broke his heart and left him to pick up the pieces. But leaving him today hurts so much more as she made peace with the truth. This will be the end of their story. Every step away from him tore her further as finally she lets go of the past, of him.

"How can you be so selfish?"

Y/n stood stuck as the ever familiar voice laced with a thick accent reverberated in her ears. It couldn't be right?

"How dare you come here and leave again." It was no question as his voice is laced with venom.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." was the only thing that came to y/n's lips as her hands found comfort in them. She cannot face him. Could not. Would not.

"Did you really think it was that easy. Do you take me as a fool to just forgive you?" Charles growled as he view the figure of the woman he had loved in the past.

"Look at me and tell me why you did it." he yelled as he felt his heart constrict.

Charles Leclerc thought that he was over the past. That he had buried everything to the deepest parts of his memories. That he had already forgotten the shape of her face, her infectious smile, and everything good about her. How selfish can she be coming today and showing her face to him like nothing happened? How dare she cry as he triumph? How dare his heart skip a beat upon seeing her.

The man that he became is someone he does not even recognize. The podiums, the wins, the praises, everything felt like a buzz in his ears. He could not feel himself again. Upon picking up the pieces of him that was left after her ruthless goodbye, he has learned to close his heart. Every relationship after her was for a naught when every peaceful nights, her face is the one he sees as was every waking dawn. He tried to move on, to forget everything about her but it was hard. So hard that no matter the pain she gave, his heart still beats for her only.

And seeing her today, just proved it. He did not care about the win at all, he knows that he made his father and godfather proud. It was because of them that he was able to race but, it was she that became his driving force to continue. And when she left, the world stopped.

"Look at me." he pressed as he held his anger. Afraid that he would lash out in front of millions.

But he did not care. He wanted to know what happened. Why she left as if he was no more than a stranger. He give no mind to the eyes that follow his and her every move. To all the rumors and backlash be damned. He needed this after all this years.

Slowly but surely, he found his forest colored orbs trained to the eyes that held warmth from before. He was now met with the face of the person he had laid his heart to.

" Charlie, I'm so sorry..."

" Don't!... don't call me that. You have no right."

" Brother, not here. Please." Arthur begged as he held his older brother. Reminding him that all of Monaco has their eyes trained on them, that the camera has panned to their stature when Charles ran down the podium after the anthem was over. The festive circuit has quieten, nervously awaiting the scene to unfold. People of the world are waiting as the race was aired live.

" No. I need to know, 'Tur." Charles, ever stubborn, state as he stepped closer to Y/n, causing the woman to panic further.

" Arthur's right. Not here, please." Y/n stuttered as she felt every eyes on her frame. Mocking and judging her.

" What do you know about what's right. You left remember. You left me to die. You're. selfish."

" Stop. Please..."

" No! Not until you tell me why you did it."

"Just stop. Please stop."

" Then tell me!"

" I was scared!" Y/n yelled as the tears streamed unending. She has finally done it. If this is the last time, then let it be done with.

" After Jules' death, I came to realize that it could happen to you anytime. No matter how careful you are, there is no guarantee that you would come out unscathed. Every time you drive that car, I pray to God, to every force that is listening to protect you because I cant!"

" When Jules was on his deathbed, no one but me and your family saw how you seem to die with him. Yes, I vowed to be with you always. But if being with you meant that every second of every season you race meant death is upon you, how can I have the strength to be strong and be able to stay."

Charles was left dumbfounded. He did not know. Why didn't you tell him. He would have understood. He was ready to give up everything for her, even the sport he loves.

"I can't have you give up racing because of me. I don't want you to resent me in the long run. If breaking both our hearts mean you'll be able to race and win, then it was worth it." Y/n finished as she hung her head low.

She has finally said it. All those years of torment, of heartache, of everyday wanting to go back and apologize was not for nothing. Both of them can finally move on as the truth was laid bare for everyone to see.

" How..." Charles started, not knowing what to say. The anger that made home to his heart was easily melted by knowing the truth. If only he had known, he would have never stopped looking for her, never stopped trying to win her again.

What was the point of this 'what if's' now that she has clearly moved on. But he is not Charles Marc Herve Perceval Leclerc for nothing. No matter what, he'll try and try up until he triumph. Hence, he steeled himself, ready for what was to come next.

"Why are you worrying of the things that has yet to happen?" he started moving much closer to the woman he has always love.

" Please, don't do that. Just because of what happened before does not mean that it will happen now."

" You can never guarantee that. I cannot have y-"

" Y/n, look at me." Charles softly cradled her face, wiping the unending tears and soothing the chaos that is her mind.

" The things that has yet to happen does not dictate for us to lose hope. To be broken and sad. Why can't we worry about it when it happens? We'll worry about it when it comes. We'll cry when we're there. "

" No, Charles. Listen to me. You will never understand this even when you know everything. It will never change anything. And I have no right to love you." All broken and judged, she laid it for him.

However, Charles pursued. He will never let her go again. Never. Even if she tried every way possible for her to hurt him, he'll stay. Now more than ever.

" Why do you need the right to love me? I will say this once and for all, it's okay. So love me like you did before...or so much more." he reiterated as his forehead kissed hers. He closed his eyes, savoring the warmth that emanated from her.

" You do not have to worry about what happened before happening again. I will stay by your side until you beg me not to. I have loved you before, right now and always. So please stay." he pleaded for the world to see.

But he did not care. He only cared for her, for Y/n. Because after all this time, he never forgot. His heart has always yearned for her just like how it beats for her alone. And it burst with love for the woman before him as he gaze onto her eyes. He saw everything there. Everything that she cannot put into words. And who was he to not seal it, again. Hence, he kissed the life out of her. The years of longing, hatred and guilt poured into that one kiss as the world cheered for them.

The flashes of cameras and the deafening cheer echoed in the street of his home as his love is back. He made thanks to the God he had never believed and the string that has yet to snap. Indeed it was true, ' the string may bend and tangle, but it will never break.' That the years apart was no punishment but, a way for them to grow - to see things clearly, to look back and learn that what happened was worth it. Yes, it did break them but, it also taught them that a relationship is partnership, that it really does take two to tango.

But then again, they were but humans, the two of them. Faulty but faithful. Hence, they'll hold tightly this time - never letting go, and remembering the start. Because Pascale was right, we only regret the chances we didn't take.

#charles leclerc x reader #ferrari #charles leclerc #f1 #arthur leclerc #monaco gp 2024 #angst #frienship #Charles Leclerc angst #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc imagine

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nolita-fairytale · 1 year ago

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don't you worry, there's still time | chef luca x fem!reader, feat. marcus brooks

summary: after losing his mother, marcus searches for joy and stillness in copenhagen. you and luca, who are more than happy to host, decide to take a big next step in your relationship. a oneshot from the world of 'burn your life down.'

warnings: fluff, light angst, grief, death, light smut, second person pov, swearing, danish inaccuracies, off-canon connection to the storyline of the bear.

word count: 5.8k

listen to: the playlist

a/n: wow, i missed this world! who is ready for the reveal of chef's restaurant name?! while i don't think i have the bandwidth to write another full series (nor a linear story to tell) i'm thinking of creating a second part to 'burn your life down' where we just get to drop in and see what they're up to. thoughts??

chef luca masterlist | full masterlist

After a tumultuous holiday season, it doesn’t take long for Sydney to realize that her friend is in need of a little help. A reprieve, she so kindly explained to both Marcus and Carmy when she’d proposed the idea.

It was Sydney this time, who called Luca, knowing that she and Carmy would have to find something to do with Marcus. It wasn’t fair – that he’d lost his mom just before Thanksgiving – and they both agreed that Marcus needed to get out of dodge. Quick to act, Carmy set up a few stages in NYC for a week or so, which, while seemed to inspire Marcus, seemed to only plunge him further into a slump come Christmas. “I don’t know. I think we gotta send him on some kinda… eat, pray, love trip. The guy can only sulk on my couch for so long before I consider jumping out of the window,” Sydney says, her attempt to lighten the mood with humor still genuine. “It’s getting sad, Carm. Like… real fuckin’ sad.”

“You’re right. Uh… what about Copenhagen?” Carmy pitches with a shrug, because he knows what all consuming grief feels like.

“Again?” she asks, uncertain of whether it’s the best choice that they could make.

“Yeah,” Carmy shrugs in response. “Think he got a lot of it last time. Could be good for him to go back to somewhere familiar… work with Luca again. You don’t think it’s a-?”

“No I do! I just-,” Sydney hesitates, though she knows her business partner makes a good point. “Familiarity will be good for him. To be around people he can trust.”

“You want me to uh-,” Carmy begins to offer, figuring he’ll make the call.

“Probably best if I explain the situation. Just ‘cause, you know, I know more of what’s going on… just send me his info and I’ll call later,” Sydney interjects.

Carmy agrees with a curt nod before adding in:

“Uh… okay yeah. Yeah.”

You get plenty of time to prepare for Marcus’ visit, performing all kinds of fancy footwork to arrange a proper visit – a week’s worth of time spent staging and living in Copenhagen. When Luca finds out that the prolific houseboat, a chef retreat of sorts that’s always been an option for lodging, is booked for the week and a half that Marcus plans on visiting, you offer up your place without hesitation.

The arrangement goes as follows: while Marcus stays at yours at no cost, you’ll stay with Luca for the duration of the time.

This is how you find yourself at the massive Ikea on Dybbølsbro on a Saturday morning with Luca, in search of a set of fresh bed linens intended for guests.

“I really should host more. And Astrid said she and Lina were planning a trip out here so… why not kill two birds with one stone?” you’d reasoned to your boyfriend, making a strong case for why you and Luca should make this little shopping trip.

“What do you think of the blue?” Luca asks you, as you run your hand over a set of the display sheets, checking for softness.

“Don’t know if the blue is what I’m going for. I was thinking of something warmer. Maybe a yellow or… I don’t know. I’ve kind of been into that trendy rust color as of late,” you reply with a shrug, moving onto the warmer colors.

Luca chuckles and with a small shake of his head, he clarifies his previous questions with:

“No, I meant for me.”

“What do you mean?” you ask him curiously, his comment pulling all of your focus as you search his face for answers. “You just got new bedding.”

And expensive ones too.

But as your eyes follow his gaze, you realize that he’s not talking about sheets, focused on the XL Twin-sized duvets just above where the sheets messily fall along the shelf.

“I was thinking…” Luca trails off, checking in with you before he continues, with “... maybe it’s time I get two duvets… you know… for us.” He takes a beat, and a step towards you, and you know you’ll never stand a chance against his boyish charm as one side of his mouth turns up into a smile.

You’re no stranger to the Scandinavian duvet method – two twin duvets for one king sized bed – but it sounds like Luca’s suggestion is about way more than buying an extra duvet on this trip.

“I want you to feel at home… at my place."

“I do,” you reply, almost instantly, a warmth spreading through your belly as you take a step towards him.

“But I mean really… feel like it’s your home. Because it is. It could be. You know… if you want it to be,” Luca continues, this time with more insistence, a look of hopefulness in his deep blue eyes.

“Are you… are you asking me to move in with you?” you manage to get out, your heart skipping a beat.

“Why not? We could use this week to try it out,” he suggests so casually that you practically have to do a double take. “See how it goes while Marcus stays at your place?”

“Yeah I-... that sounds like a good plan, yeah,” you stammer out, the grin on your face undeniable as you nod enthusiastically in the middle of a goddamn furniture store.

“Besides,” Luca says, clearing his throat as his tone changes to one that’s much more playful. “You’re an absolute blanket hog and a repeat offender at that.” Luca winks your way as you roll your eyes with a laugh in response. “This could prevent some of our silly little quarrels, don’t you think, love?”

“Uh huh,” you sound, your face skeptical as you look his way again. “Preventative measures. Sure, babe.”

Luca chuckles before leaning down to press a chaste kiss to your lips, right then and there, in the Ikea bed linen section, the place you’ll now forever think of as the place your boyfriend asked you to move in with him.

Connection

When Marcus arrives in Copenhagen, you’ve arranged your home with the most comfort in mind, having already packed a week’s worth of things and left for Luca’s. You can only imagine what he must be going through, deciding that something like that – losing your mother – though inevitable, is your goddamn worst nightmare.

“Marcus,

Enjoy your stay and please reach out if you need anything. I can’t wait to meet you!”

…is the note that you leave him, along with a few morning pastries you picked up from your favorite baggeri across the street, and your number scribbled down at the bottom of the notepad.

As Marcus arrives, his eyes drawn immediately to your note and gift, Marcus smiles to himself, noticing that you left a very nice looking bottle of wine on the counter as well. He’s moved by your generosity, considering you’ve never met, and the fact that you’re willing to take so much care, extend this much kindness to a stranger, causes a wave of softness to wash over him.

Maybe, just maybe, he can find softness again – the last few months riddled with pain, grief, and numbness to get through the days.

While he came here to work, encouraged by his friends that a change of scenery may do his broken heart some good, it’s the first time Marcus has had a chance to be still. His feelings of grief sit heavier here and it catches him off guard, uncertain that he’s quite ready to sit with them yet. He pushes aside the thought, focusing on exploring your home and unpacking his bags. Marcus knows how to stay busy – he’s become an expert at it by now – reminding himself that he’s got work at 5 am sharp tomorrow.

“A little too much, chef. Take it down by about 15 grams,” Luca directs, his voice even and sure as he inspects the balls of dough that Marcus currently shapes.

“Yes, chef,” Marcus nods in understanding, plopping the ball of dough back on the scale to adjust the measurement.

The two of them work like this for the rest of the morning, Luca treading carefully while keeping things professional, while Marcus buries himself in the work – something that feels good, safe, right.

He’s missed this. While Marcus has one chef he works with directly at the restaurant, he’s the expert – the head patissier. He misses being surrounded by excellence, getting to be a student of someone who is just as driven, if not more, and inspired. It’s good, quiet, calm, yet there’s a focus and intensity in Luca’s kitchen that feels like a breath of fresh air.

His stage trip to New York has been more of a mess than beneficial. Maybe it had been the chaos of the city, or the chaos of the chefs he was working with. Maybe it was the fact that Marcus, though hungry for a distraction, hadn’t quite been ready to walk directly into the line of fire yet.

As Marcus’ practiced hands move with the dough, there’s a newfound confidence in the way that he works that's not lost on Luca. Luca watches his friend carefully, pride swelling in his chest as his mentee makes the adjustment with ease and diligence.

“Can I join you?” Luca asks, gesturing towards Marcus' workstation.

“‘Course, chef,” Marcus replies, his response short yet reverent.

As Luca joins him, finding a space to the right of Marcus, he busies his hands with rolling each perfectly measured ball of dough into mini boules, ready to proof. The two of them work quietly, side by side, the air between them heavy with words unsaid. He can feel it – the weight that lays so heavily on Marcus' heart – but Luca doesn’t want to bring it up, uninterested in forcing the conversation. Especially about something so painful, something he knows that Marcus has barely begun working through.

“Thanks, again. For uh… you know… letting me come work,” Marcus begins, momentarily checking in with Luca to gauge a reaction.

“‘Course,” Luca replies, his answer instantaneous. “You’re welcome here any time, mate.”

“Yeah?” Marcus asks, stealing a glance in Luca’s direction.

“Yeah,” Luca responds with a certain nod.

“And uh… shit. I can’t thank your girlfriend enough for letting me crash at her place,” Marcus adds, as he works through his discomfort and overwhelm from the wave of feelings that begin to bubble up in his chest.

“You can thank her yourself on Saturday,” Luca brings up, excited over the fact that Marcus will not only be meeting his girlfriend, but staging at her restaurant too. “She’s really looking forward to meeting you.”

Marcus nods slowly, his hands the only steady thing about him as he continues to focus on his work.

“I just mean-, well, she didn’t have to-. ‘S not like either of you owed it to me or anything and I-. You guys just really came through…” Marcus trails off, wanting to make his gratitude clear. It means more to him that he can articulate so instead he settles for, “So thank you. Again.”

Luca shrugs with an aplomb about him as he returns with, “We got you, mate.” He pauses before continuing, fully aware that Marcus isn’t quite comfortable with the feelings that have presented themself in this moment. “And the way I see it, I wouldn’t have met her if it weren’t for you – for our conversation the last time you were here – so we really do owe you for it.”

This time Luca makes an effort to check in with Marcus, gauging his emotional capacity as he concludes with:

“But that’s not what any of this is about: debts, who owes who what. We were both more than happy to host you. That’s what mates are for.”

It’s not till the end of the next shift that it hits him, and Marcus finds himself sitting outside of the restaurant on a bench across the street. He’s not sure whether it’s the jet lag or the exhaustion of the 5 am start time in another time zone, but it hits him all at once, like a ton of bricks. Suddenly consumed with the feelings that he’s been trying his best to avoid, all he can do is pause, completely caught off guard by the strength of them.

Quietly, Luca joins him, having spotted him on his way home, rerouting himself in Marcus’ direction instead.

All he can think of are the words you’ve asked him, and he you, time and time again – the ones that cut right to the core of you each and every time – that show you how much he cares.

“How’s your heart?” Luca asks Marcus, after a few minutes of sitting on the bench together in silence.

And how is his heart?

He’s not sure how to answer, considering it’s been a while since he’s really had a chance to check in, the crippling reality of this great loss is too much to bear alone.

His heart is broken, shattered into an infinite amount of pieces.

He, and his heart will never be the same again and he doesn’t know where or how he’ll ever put it back together.

His heart is… lost, in desperate need of finding a soft place to land.

Marcus takes a while to answer, racking his brain for any semblance of a cohesive answer.

He waits. And then he waits.

Until finally, he can answer.

“I uh… don’t know. But I’m hoping this trip will help me figure that out.”

Creativity

“do you remember the 21st night of september? love was changin' the minds of pretenders while chasin' the clouds away.” (earth, wind, and fire.)

Everything about the way you run your kitchen feels different than what he’s used to.

It’s sure as hell different from his last stage trip to New York, Marcus thinks to himself.

With Carmy and Syd, working with them, there’s a buzz of chaos that runs underneath even the most organized and efficient service. It’s something integral to what they have, gives an edge to The Bear that seems to make it hum in all the right ways. Even with Luca, who comes from fine dining and Michelin-starred restaurants, there’s a quiet and determined focus – an intensity to his work – even without the undercurrent of chaos.

But this. But you.

Your kitchen somehow teeters the line of organized chaos and reckless play so well that Marcus understands why this works – why it’s efficient.

Still, he watches as you and your staff dance – no, literally dance – around each other to the highly recognizable Earth, Wind, and Fire tune. Mathilde sings along while chopping chives for the brothy mushroom grain bowl, while, mid-phrase, manages to yell out a short command to a line cook in Danish. Out of the corner of his eye, Marcus catches Jesper working the dining room, while you finish plating two more dishes, ready to be walked out.

It’s as if you find focus in the center of all the noise, somewhere between the electric energy between you, Mathilde, and your staff, and the feel-good vibes and homeyness of the restaurant that you’ve created.

You had been more than welcoming when Marcus had walked through the doors of your restaurant, Kokuore, mere hours ago. You’d given him the tour, shown him which station he’d be working this evening, then warmly introduced him to your entire team before family meal started. Marcus can’t stop moving, too afraid to be still in fear of falling apart in the presence of how comforting you’ve been.

And this? Your kitchen. It’s all joy, connection, and artistry.

It’s not hard for him to see why Luca fell in love with you.

“Marcus, feel free to take a break,” he hears you say, as you nod towards the dining room through the open kitchen.

As Marcus follows your gesture, he notices that Luca’s arrived, remembering something about a standing Saturday date.

“You sure, chef?” Marcus asks, looking to you for approval.

“Positive,” you nod, reassuringly.

Marcus nods in return to confirm, before taking his apron off and making his way over to the dining room where Luca is exchanging a few words with Jesper.

“Wassup, chef,” he greets his mentor.

“You know, you can call me Luca,” Luca reminds him with a crooked smile. “At least when we’re off the clock.”

Marcus chuckles, “Uh… yeah alright. That’s gonna take some getting used to.”

Luca chuckles in return, before Jesper shows them to his table, mentioning something about Americans being so afraid of fluidity.

“She’s brilliant isn’t she?” Luca asks, in reference to you as his eyes catch yours from across the room.

“Nah for real. Like… mad scientist vibes,” Marcus concurs with a smile. “She can throw down for sure.” He pauses as they sit down at Luca’s table. “So you come every Saturday night, huh?”

“When I can, yeah, which is… most Saturdays,” Luca replies honestly, before beginning to list why he’s kept up this routine. “But it’s nice. Keeps me inspired. I get to see my girl, walk her home at night which makes me feel better.” Luca leans back in his chair this time, crossing his arms over his chest. “And I never mind helping close down at the end of the night.”

Marcus hums in response before one of the waitstaff comes to their table, with a glass of wine in hand, on the house. They chat for a little longer before Marcus returns to the kitchen, his excitement for what you’re doing here filling him to the brim.

As dinner service comes to an end, Marcus can’t help but notice the chemistry and how unique it is as you all work together in perfect harmony. There’s a warmth to it, something different, and he begins to understand why the name of the restaurant comes from the word, heart.

Luca is quick to get up from his table, quickly finishing his glass of wine as he offers to help close down. The music volume goes from underscoring the buzz of a busy night of service, to the main attraction, as a motown throwbacks playlist begins to blare from the speakers. You all work quickly and efficiently, eager to close down, get home, and begin your weekends, but it’s when an old Otis Redding track that Luca decides to put a pause on the progress.

“Dance with me, my love,” he says, offering his hand out to you as a huge gesture that earns a few looks and giggles from some of your staff.

“Luca,” you begin to protest, looking around.

“You can take three minutes,” he offers, exchanging a look with you this time.

You nod, taking his hand as you agree with, “Okay.”

And as Luca wraps you up in his arms, engaging you in a slow dance to Otis Redding’s “That’s How Strong my Love is,” you chuckle, relaxing into him.

“Oh, get a room, you two!” Jesper calls out after you, teasingly.

“She pretends – always puts up a fight – as if they don’t do this every single week,” Mathilde adds, as an explanation to Marcus.

“Every week?” Marcus asks, a little surprised by both you and Luca’s willingness to pause and revel in a moment with each other, instead of just pushing through.

“Yeah. Romantics, they are,” Jesper chimes in.

Marcus smiles to himself. It’s a reminder of slowness – something he hasn’t let himself experience in a long time – and for just a moment, he lets himself settle into the feeling.

You don’t even mind that you woke up an hour before your alarm the moment you feel Luca’s arms wrapped around you, and his lips against your soft skin. The low rumble of his voice resonates across your shoulders, sending chills down your spine as you arch into his hands, his arms wrapped around you.

“I know we’re only a few days in… of our little trial,” Luca begins, the bass of his voice reverberating through your shoulder blade.

“Our living together trial?” you clarify with your ask, letting out a gasp as he nibbles on your shoulder gently.

“Yeah. Just wonderin’ where your mind’s at,” Luca murmurs, his eager hands beginning to explore underneath the oversized shirt you put on before bed last night.

“Well… I really like this,” you reply, the sound that comes out of your mouth somewhere between a giggle and a moan.

“Hmmmm?” Luca sounds, innocently.

“This… Waking up to you thing.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Mhm.”

Luca’s name escapes your lips as his fingers gently begin to play with your nipples, his erection hard against your back as you begin to grind your hips back against.

“And the access to round the clock sex is really a bonus,” you sigh, blissfully.

“Oh yeah?” he asks you again, a large tatted hand slipping between your legs.

“Yeah… I’d even be… interested in leaning into that part… right now,” you hiss in reply to his touch. “Considering you’re distracting me with sex.”

“Hmmmmm. ‘S not just it, love. Have I told you how grateful I am for what you’ve done for Marcus?” Luca asks, his mouth back on your neck. He presses your body against him, your back to his chest as he rocks his hips against yours.

“Luca!” you protest, unable to focus on the conversation.

“It’s your kindness. Your heart… I’m in awe of it,” he continues to praise you as the two of you begin to set a rhythm between your bodies.

It’s all heat, and soft sighs of pleasure, and foreplay.

“Well, I know a little something about what he’s going through,” you answer breathlessly. You begin to impatiently push the hem of your shirt higher so that you can give Luca more access to your body.

“That’s why I love you,” Luca murmurs into your skin, his hands all over you, his focus unbroken and your mind beginning to go blank. His hands are tearing your shirt over your head as he continues to praise you. “Your heart, the way you share it.”

“You helped me get there, baby,” you gasp, turning your head so that you can kiss your boyfriend.

Instead of answering, Luca nods knowingly, before crashing his lips into yours. His mouth on yours feels like heaven, and you can’t believe that you ever fought your feelings for him.

“Ah fuck it. Let’s do it. Let’s move in together,” you surrender to him, lost in the moment.

“Yeah?” Luca pauses, pulling away, as if almost can’t believe what he’s hearing.

“Yeah. I mean it, baby,” you nod, catching his gaze, certain in the way you answer. “I wanna wake up to you every morning.”

“Me too, my love,” Luca grins, before pressing his lips to yours again. “Now will you please let me fuck you, darling?”

“Fuck yes.”

Luca spends the next hour showing you just how grateful he is for you, while you in return, spend the next hour showing him just how sure you are about this decision.

And you are sure. If mornings like this are a constant for the rest of your life, you think you’ll die a happy woman.

You’ve found a home in him, and he, you. He’s the person you want to come home to at the end of the day. He’s the man that puts a smile on your face every single time he gets on his soapbox about how Beyonce is the performer of your lifetimes, and he is unequivocally the best, most unexpected thing in your life.

Luca Davies, in almost a year of knowing him, and eight months of getting to love him, has somehow become your favorite person.

By the time you and Luca are both showered and decent-for-company, you’ve begun your mise en place for brunch, completely content with the fact that you’re running a little behind schedule (and in all fairness, the sex was worth it – it’s always worth it). The smell of bacon sizzling away on your carbon steel fry pan fills the entire apartment, and you’re glad that Luca opened a window earlier. It’s not exactly window weather yet, but the air ventilation is a must when it comes to smoked meats.

While you play catch up with your brunch plan, Luca’s busy welcoming Marcus in, pouring him a cup of coffee using the extensive ten-step pour over he’s been fixated on ever since he purchased it, while they chat here and there about what else he’s explored in Denmark.

“Been too busy working, to be honest but… I don’t know. I might wander around today… see what kind of stuff I can get into,” Marcus answers frankly with a shrug.

“Ah, mate. We just had a walk at the Frederiksberg Gardens. Definitely something I’d recommend checking out,” Luca suggests, his eyes lighting up with excitement as he mentions it.

Luca continues moving through his list of recommendations, Marcus chiming in with places and things he did the last time he was here, excited to spend a few days exploring the city instead of just working.

“Wanderin’ around. I dunno. There’s something about it. ‘S good for the spirit, you know?” Luca concludes.

“Yeah,” Marcus nods in agreement, before turning his attention over to the French toast you’re working on. “Okay, I see you. What is that? Mascarpone?”

“Yeah, good eye. It’s just something new I’m working on: a mascarpone stuffed french toast. We’re actually talking about extending our hours… maybe doing weekend brunch,” you answer thoroughly, as you dip the stuffed pieces of bread into their egg batter, pre-cook.

“For real? That’s sick,” Marcus compliments, watching you carefully. “I mean… shit. You could have a whole brunch spot.”

“What do you mean?” you ask, looking up from your cutting board.

“A Brunch spot,” Marcus repeats, simply, the excitement in his eyes at the new idea, evident. “Yeah, you know. Luca could do the morning pastries. You work your magic on the rest of the menu.”

“That’s a novel idea! What do you think, my love?” Luca asks, intrigue in his voice as he searches your face for a reaction.

“I-,” you begin, looking from Luca to Marcus, then back to Luca again. “I… never thought about it like that.” You take a beat, eyeing Luca carefully. “We’ve never talked about going into business together.”

Marcus shrugs, before picking up his coffee mug, “Yo, it’s just a thought. I think you two would be unstoppable together.”

“Unstoppable, eh?” Luca asks, his eyes locked with yours.

You only hum in response, raising a quirked eyebrow in Luca’s direction before adding:

“It’s certainly one hell of an idea, Marcus.”

Kokuore

Monday afternoon, you find yourself at your restaurant with Marcus Brooks, on a day off.

“I might need a little extra help with something tomorrow. We’re closed tomorrow, but I want to get ahead on this special I’m working on. Could use the help of a pastry chef. What do you say?” you’d proposed to him, over one more espresso before he left.

To Luca’s dismay, (“ you silly Americans just can’t enjoy a day of doing nothing,” he’d teased the two of you) Marcus had given you an unwavering yes, reassuring you that he was down to learn everything he possibly could from you, especially while he was here.

And it’s true. You do need the help. But should he want someone to talk to – someone who gets it, even just a little bit – you want to offer him the space and the opportunity to do so.

“As a patissier, do you get tasked with pasta? At The Bear?” you ask Marcus, as you pleat a dumpling in hand with a speed that only comes with practice.

“Nah,” Marcus sounds, his focus on the dumpling he’s pleating too. His concentration on getting the pleats right is reverent and unbroken, even as he answers your question. “Our head chef, Carmy, he uh… he comes from an Italian American family so when we’ve done a stuffed pasta… he usually takes the lead on that.”

You nod in understanding, placing the dumpling you’ve just finished down on the full-sized sheet pan. The two of you sit across from each other, having pushed a few dining tables together as a makeshift workstation.

“Think Luca’ll take over this kinda stuff when you guys open a restaurant together?” Marcus asks, lightheartedly pushing his agenda from yesterday.

You laugh in response, your hands working quickly on yet another dumpling.

“For someone with no skin in the game, you’re really insistent on this idea,” you tease him in return.

“Don’t tell me you’ve never thought about it,” Marcus pushes right back, his tone still light.

“I…” you sigh, trailing off as you pause your work for a moment. “You know, we just said we’d move in together. That and a restaurant? Feels fast.”

“Oh shit.”

“Yeah.”

“Like… a few hours before you came over for brunch,” you elaborate, earning a whistle from Marcus. The two of you exchange a look, and a laugh, as you pick up another dumpling wrapper that you and Marcus rolled out together earlier.

“It’s a good idea though,” you add, stealing a glance his way so that he knows that you’re serious.

“Well, when you two inevitably do open a restaurant… I want ten percent,” Marcus jokes, earning another laugh from you.

“Deal,” you agree with him.

You and Marcus work like this, exchanging a few words, the conversation light, underscored by a softer acoustic soundtrack from one of your Spotify radio stations.

“So how’d you learn to cook like this?” Marcus asks you curiously.

“Uh…” you hesitate, treading carefully as you realize this conversation could open a can of worms.

“I don’t know how much Luca’s told you about me… but I was married… before him,” you begin, cautiously. “And… well, I learned a lot of this… a lot of traditional Japanese cooking from my mother-in-law.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. These are her dumplings actually – her recipe. She passed away last Fall and… well, it was important to me to celebrate her – to celebrate her life – by creating a few dishes for her,” you continue, and it’s as if all of the air has been sucked out of the room. “We’re bringing this one back as a special this month but um… yeah. I’m… still very much grieving and… it helps me remember her. Cooking her food helps me feel close to her, you know?”

“Yeah,” Marcus sighs, his heart heavy as he exhales.

He waits a beat.

And then another, having paused his work as he watches you pleat, head down, with expert hands.

The silence between you and Marcus is full, heavy, connected by shared experience. You wait for Marcus to say something, and when he doesn’t, you decide to continue.

“This restaurant… has so much of my heart in it: it’s got my love for Italian food from growing up in my best friend’s family’s restaurant, and it’s got my love for her – for Aiko – and everything she taught me,” you begin to explain. “And lately… it’s got a fresh perspective… inspired by the love I have with Luca, I think. Well, I know. Inspired by him… how this place brought us together.”

“The name itself is… totally made up, but means a lot to me. The Japanese word for heart is, kokoro, and the Italian word for heart is, cuore. Somehow an homage to my past… and was… Prophetic in so many ways too.”

As Marcus listens, Luca’s previous question lingers in his head:

How’s your heart?

At the time he didn’t know how to answer, and after five days in Copenhagen – after five days of doing what he loves in a place that he loves – his heart is somehow so full, yet so broken all at once. He’s filled with deep sorrow and with the spark of creativity all at the same time, and he’s just not sure how to hold all of this feeling inside of him.

Marcus waits a beat, opens his mouth, then lets the words fall out.

“It’s evident. In your food,” is all he manages to say. “It’s got soul. It’s got heart. I-, it’s inspiring. That’s for sure.”

“I made a dish. For Michael,” Marcus adds, his eyes on the dumpling he works on, but the guard on his heart beginning to fall away. “He was uh… well, he was the old owner of the restaurant, called The Beef back then. Carmy took over after he died. Felt right to honor him and his life, you know? When we reopened as The Bear.”

“Food is… it’s our art, you know?” you agree. “Sometimes it’s the only way I know how to express myself and… sometimes it’s just the thing that makes sense.”

“Yeah.”

A beat.

“Maybe one day I can make one for my mom,” Marcus says, his voice stuck in his throat as he admits, “I don’t know if I’m ready yet. But I think… I think I’d like to eventually.”

“Of course,” you reassure him gently. “You don’t have to be ready now. You don’t have to be ready ever. But when you are, your art will always be there.”

“Thanks,” Marcus nods solemnly.

You get up this time, realizing the sheet pan is full, and ready to be placed on the baker’s rack. As you return to the table with a new empty sheet pan, lined with parchment paper, Marcus finally asks you, his eyes soft, the heartbreak in them present.

“How’d you get through? You know. Losing her? Your mother-in-law?”

You return to your chair with a heavy sigh.

“I’ll let you know when I do,” you answer, letting up a soft chuckle. “It helps to have good people and… from what Luca’s told me, you do. But… I had to let ‘em in, let ‘em help me. Let ‘em love me. And in all honesty, most days I’m still just… taking it day by day.”

“Yeah, I-. I do. I got some really good people. Back home,” Marcus drags out slowly.

“Then that’s all that matters. Your people and your heart. The rest… you just-,” you start.

“Take day by day?” Marcus interjects, pausing to catch your eyes.

You and Marcus exchange a knowing look, the recognition of each others’ pain is met with empathy.

“Yeah. I think that's all we can do.”

By the end of your work session with Marcus, you’re ready to head home so that you can spend the rest of the day with Luca.

“What’re you gonna do with the rest of your day?” you ask Marcus, curiously.

With a sigh, and then a shrug, and a heart that feels just a little lighter, he answers with:

“Think I might wander around a bit. Someone once told me it’s good for the spirit.”

#chef luca #will poulter #luca the bear #the bear season 2 #the bear headcanon #luca x reader #the bear hulu #the bear fx #the bear fanfiction #chef luca x reader #pastry chef luca #burn your life down

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