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perlelune · 2 months

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Sippy Cup | Coriolanus Snow

The war never left you, so you find a way to cope. One where you never lost your childhood. One where the world is still pure and safe. And Coriolanus can't resist that innocence.

Warnings: NON-CON, Dd/lg, Little!Reader, Innocence Kink, Mentions of war, PTSD, Manipulation, Age Regression, Capitol!Reader

This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.

The first time Coriolanus catches you and Tigris playing Tea Party, you expect to find disdain in his eyes, mockery perhaps. Instead, another emotion blooms in the blond’s cerulean gaze. Curiosity.

It happens on a sweltering Tuesday afternoon, the sizzling summer rays spilling through the half-drawn lace curtains of your bedroom. As usual, you and Tigris are sitting across from each other with Teddy occupying the third seat between the two of you. He is being his sassy self, of course, complaining about the sitting arrangement and wanting more tea cakes on his plate. You scold him, reminding him what happened the last time he went on a sugar high. Teddy’s eyes are much bigger than his stomach.

Nervousness slithered through you when you confessed your secret to Tigris. You didn’t want to, initially. You missed several days of class at the Capitol University in a row and your best friend grew concerned enough to show up at your house unannounced. She found you right here, playing with your dolls and chatting with your bear.

You explained to her that the pressure to be big is too much sometimes, that instead of shaking and crying on the floor of the girls’ bathroom, you come here. Once you enter your bedroom, every single woe vanishes. Your head is empty and your heart is full. You’re a carefree, happy little girl once more.

To your surprise, there isn’t a shred of judgment in Tigris’ eyes when you tell her. She never utters a single bad word about the neat rows of dolls and plushies adorning your shelves, your soft pink walls, your frilly dresses or the ribbons in your hair. When you reveal your little secret to her, what you did to ward off the nightmares, she simply listens, hands on her chest as her blue eyes fill with tears. You tell her the pink helps erase the red. The same red that splattered across the pavement when your parents and brother’s bodies hit the ground during the First Rebellion. You were still holding your brother’s hand when he fell. You held it even as his palm grew cold and stiff against yours. If it weren’t for the Snow cousins prying your weeping form off his that day, you might have stayed there and met the same fate.

Tigris gave you the warmest hug. Then she asked if she could play with you, if that’d cheer you up. You were ecstatic. Since that day, Tigris would play dolls with you, attend your tea parties and even fill out your coloring books with you sometimes. You never have to pretend with Tigris. Don’t have to pretend to be a big girl. Or speak long, complicated words. Or care about big, important things. You can just be a princess in her pink castle.

It’s why ice scatters in your veins when Coriolanus watches you and Tigris from the ajar door.

“You weren’t coming home, so I came to check on you,” he mumbles as he takes in the scene before him. Your face heats beneath Coriolanus’ wide-eyed stare.

Alarm flickers over Tigris’ face.

“You need to learn to knock, Coryo,” she chides. She whispers a gentle apology to you before getting to her feet. She nudges Coriolanus outside of your bedroom and they head to the bottom of the stairs.

Eavesdropping is bad; you know it. Good little girls don’t peep or listen through the door. But you can’t help it. Heart in your throat, you try to hear the whispered conversation between Tigris and her cousin. You only catch snippets. Your best friend’s voice is a little harsher than you’re used to, like she’s a bit upset.

Don’t you dare make fun of her.

She needs this, Coryo.

Stark blue eyes lock with yours from afar. Your heart slams against your ribcage. You hastily shove the door closed, rushing back to your pink wooden chair.

You pick up Teddy and cradle him against your chest. “Coryo is our friend,” you remind him. “He wouldn’t make fun of us.” Teddy is uncharacteristically quiet. You feel tears rush to your eyes, your bear’s doubts starting to creep into you.

“Do you mind if I join you?”

The deep voice rolling over you yanks you from your thoughts. Your head whips up. Coriolanus’ hunkering at your side, his head tilted in inquiry. You glance past his shoulder. Tigris is standing behind her cousin with her arms folded, her wary gaze glued to his form.

“Join us?” you repeat, dazed by his question.

The corners of the blond’s lips lift.

“Yes, it’s a tea party, isn’t it?”

Your gaze bulges. You never expected to hear such words spilling from Coryo’s mouth. He’s always so serious, so very serious, having no time for games. He’s been like that for as long as you can remember.

You wipe your tears and sniffle.

A little defensive, you clutch fistfuls of your pink dress.

“Tea parties aren’t for boys. They’re for princesses,” you state curtly.

Coriolanus’ expression softens as he considers you.

“Then I could be a knight, from a visiting kingdom.” You purse your lips, brows knitting. The blond’s warm breath caresses your ear as he bends over you, “Knights protect princesses.”

You mull it over. It’d be nice to have someone watch over you and Teddy, make sure no rebels storm your castle walls, paint your heart-covered walls red. You pluck your teddy bear from his stool and question him.

“What do you think, Teddy?” A very serious conversation silently occurs between you and your plushie. After a few minutes, you hum and nod, agreeing with him. Your eyes rise to meet Coryo’s. “Teddy says he’s okay with it.”

A bright smile unfurls on Coriolanus’ handsome face.

“That’s wonderful, princess.”

Over time, Coriolanus’ visits grow more frequent. He even gets into the habit of bringing you gifts, like new plushies and sugary treats. Despite your reluctance to include him because he’s a boy and boys can be mean and smelly, the time you spend with him is always a highlight in your day. Coryo is never smelly; he smells like the flowers in the Grandma’am’s garden and fresh pine. And he’s not mean. He never fails to be sweet to you, bowing to you and kissing your hand like a knight would, and always embracing every one of your games.

He becomes a fixture in your weekly tea parties, often accompanying Tigris or showing up when she’s too busy at the workshop to make it.

Somehow he always finds time for you, even if you know he’s so busy with important, grown-up things. You’re delighted. While playing alone is fun, your imagination knowing no bounds, it’s always better with a friend.

Today is one of these days. It’s just you and Coryo hanging out in your bedroom. He spends most of the evening handing you crayons while you color in the new picture book he got you, a comfortable silence swaddling the both of you. Coryo appears content just observing you, a peaceful smile hovering on his lips. The book is full of beautiful drawings of birds and landscapes. You never had one this nice so you were beyond thrilled to start coloring it.

When the sky gets darker outside your window, you sit up. You turn to Coryo.

“It’s getting late. I guess it’s time for the tea party to end. It was lovely of you to visit us, Sir Coriolanus and we hope-”

“Tigris said you were having nightmares,” he interrupts.

You go still, the crayons between your fingers clattering to the floor.

“That was a secret,” you mutter, your chest clenching. Why would Tigris tell him that? She’s your best friend. She should keep all your secrets forever. As you simmer in disappointment, Coryo places his fingers under your chin and lifts it. Your tearful gaze meets his.

“You can trust me too, princess,” he assures softly.

As you drown in his gaze, you get lost in a memory. Suddenly all the pink in your room is gone. Unmoving bodies. Gaping mouths. Hollow eyes.

Bright red ribbons flowing from their mouths. Crimson confetti popping from their bellies.

Everything in your vision becomes red.

You curl against the edge of the bed and close your eyes.

Hands on the side of your head, you take a deep breath. You slowly open your eyes again. You focus on the plushies sitting on your shelves until the somber clouds over your thoughts turn into cotton candy again.

You coax a shaky smile onto your lips.

“I don’t want to talk about it. Can we just play?”

He chuckles.

“It’s too late for games, princess. Isn’t it your bedtime by now?”

“Then I guess you should go, Coryo,” you say, resting your chin against your knees.

Coriolanus pauses, studying you for a while.

His next words are barely above a whisper.

“Or I could stay.” His large hand drapes over yours, covering your knees. “I could sleep in your bed with you.”

Shocked that he’d even suggest such a thing, you gasp.

“Boys and girls don’t sleep in the same bed,” you mumble.

He cocks his head, amusement swimming in his blue eyes.

“But I’m not a boy. I’m your knight, remember?”

Happiness flows through you with this reminder.

“Yes, you are,” you chime.

His fingers slowly drag over your joined knees.

“Actually…I could be more than your knight, princess.” His gaze locks with yours. “I could be your daddy.”

Your forehead creases, confusion mounting inside you.

“My daddy?”

His lips twist in an uneven smile.

“Yes…daddies protect their little girls. Just like knights.” His fingers drift down to your ankle, the warmth of his touch seeping through your thigh high socks. “They don’t let anyone hurt their pretty princesses. And they keep the nightmares and monsters away at night.”

Amazement colors your tone with this knowledge.

“Really?”

“Of course.” He cups your cheek. “I could sleep in the bed with you and keep my little girl safe that way.”

“I could even tell you a bedtime story.”

Your eyes light up. “A bedtime story?”

He fondles your cheek, his expression softening.

“Of course, anything for my sweet little girl.”

You climb into bed, your entire body shaking in anticipation. Coryo removes his shoes. He picks a book from your shelf and joins you on the bed. He gets under the covers with you and tucks your head against his chest. He opens the book to the first page, his tone patient and clear as he begins to read the tale to you. Your lids sag as you relax against Coryo, his fingers absently stroking the top of your head. You get engrossed in the story of a princess who gets lost on her way home. Lulled by his deep voice, you sink into sleep before the story’s even done.

For the first time in a while, a dreamless slumber welcomes you that night.

When Coryo’s tall frame slips through your door that day, hope twitches inside your chest.

Tigris promised she’ll come today. She’s canceled on you so much lately and expressed how awful she feels about it, so you have been looking forward to seeing her again.

For some reason, work has been exceptionally busy these last few weeks. And while you understand how important work is to your best friend, you’ve missed her so much.

However as he clicks the door shut and you realize no one’s trailing behind Coriolanus, your shoulders slump.

The faint hope you harbored withers away.

“I thought Tigris was coming today.”

Coriolanus sighs as he inches towards you.

“I know princess…” He plucks your hands from your lap. “But there was an emergency at the dress shop. It’s gonna keep her the whole night.” His lips graze the back of your hand. “I’m sorry, she said it was more important than being here.”

Your mouth flies open.

More important than being here? Coryo’s words drive a dagger through your chest, his sympathetic expression twisting it even more.

You lower your head. Tigris has had a lot of emergencies lately. You hardly spend any time together anymore. Part of you even wonders if maybe she’s sick of playing with you. After all, Tigris is a big girl with many things to do. You know she dreams of becoming a stylist and that’s likely more important than silly little girl games. You swallow the tears threatening to fall from your eyes.

Coryo cradles your face.

“But daddy’s here to play with you.”

Your voice trembles as you quell a sob. You look at him, warmth flowing through your chest. Your daddy’s right. You have no reason to be sad. After all, he’s with you. Just like he’s held you against him so many times in the last few weeks, reading you stories to help you fall asleep, and cheering you up whenever you felt sad, you can always count on your daddy.

“That’s amazing, daddy.”

His eyes seem to flare with an idea.

“Actually I thought we could play a new game today.”

Curiosity widens your gaze. “A new game?”

Coryo pulls you closer, his thumb tracing your bottom lip.

“Yes.” He pauses before revealing slowly, “It’s called ‘Mommy and Daddy’, princess.”

“Mommy and daddy?” Your brows squeeze together in confusion. “Tigris and I have never played that before.”

Coryo licks his lips, his gaze running over you.

“It’s a special game between daddies and their little girls,” he explains, his tone lower than before.

“I don’t know it.”

A deep chuckle parts from his lips. You frown, not understanding what’s so funny.

“I know you don’t, sweet girl,” he says. fondling your cheek. A tilted smile blooms on his lips. “It’s okay because Daddy can teach you all about it.”

You feel nothing but complete trust as Coriolanus nudges you backwards until your knees hit the edge of the bed. You look up at him, a mix of confusion and curiosity written on your features. He smiles at you, sinking to his knees to remove your shoes.

You watch him do it, wondering why they need to be off for the game. Your daddy’s palm lingers on the sole of your socked feet, his finger traveling upward, dragging over your ankle.

His eyes look a little weird now, though you can’t explain in what way. You frown, the air around you growing colder.

Did you forget to close the window?

He crawls over you, pushing you down on the mattress. Coriolanus’ smell surrounds you and your nose twitches. You’re not used to being so close to him. You can make out every detail of his handsome face, trace every one of his long lashes, and distinguish every line on his face.

He scrutinizes your form beneath him, one hand beside our head while the other sweeps under your thigh.

“What’s going on, daddy?” you ask, your voice trembling.

“It’s a game that’s easier played on a bed, princess.”

You give a nod of understanding. He strokes the side of your face, pride lacing his tone.

“Such a good girl.”

He bends his head against your shoulder. You hold your breath, a little uncomfortable for a reason you can’t place. Daddy drops a kiss at the base of your neck. Goosebumps spark on your skin. His kisses go lower and lower, his large hands following the same path.

When his fingers land between your legs, your eyes go wide with confusion.

“D-Daddy, what are you doing?”

A soft gasp leaves you as he begins to rub your cotton panties.

“There’s a special place where daddies touch mommies,” he whispers. He clutches at your center and the breath dies your throat. Your body gets hotter, your belly tightening as he pinches you in a particular spot. Coriolanus’ fingers go up and down. It both hurts and doesn’t hurt. Twisting and pulsing in a foreign way the more he touches you. Overwhelmed by the feeling spreading all the way to your toes, you cling to his arms for support.

His blue eyes are glued to your squirming frame as he traces circles around that little spot that leaves you feeling strange.

The hand besides your head moves, drifting to unbutton his pants. Your heart skips a beat as a part of your daddy you never saw is revealed to you. It’s big and red at the tip. You tense, heat rushing through you as you look away.

“Look at me, princess,” he instructs, drawing your quivering chin back to him. He presses himself against your little girl parts. Whimpers spill from your mouth as he humps you through your clothes, pinning you underneath his frame.

His hot breath rolls over your face.

“How does it feel?”

“A little weird.” You shake your head, a surge of tears threatening to break free beneath your lashes. “I don’t know if I like this game…”

He frames your chin, squeezing more tightly than usual. “Do you want to make daddy happy, princess?”

“Y-Yes,” you stammer.

His thumb skims over your shuddering mouth.

“This is daddy’s favorite game to play with his princess.”

“Okay…”

Your mood sinks. You’re liking the game less and less the longer it goes on, but you don’t want to disappoint your daddy who held you almost every night to chase away the bad dreams. His daddy thing gets heavier and bigger against your belly while he moves. He grunts, his throat rippling. The sensation is almost too much to bear, your vision swaying as he stimulates your little girl parts.

Daddy’s game is a little strange, you’re starting to think, and it’s making you feel weird things. Weird, tingly things. And it makes the room spin like a carousel.

You try to close your legs, stop the wave of strange, uncomfortable feelings…But Coriolanus wedges himself between your thighs, forcing your knees apart.

“Daddy…”

His brow twitches. “Shh, let daddy take care of you, princess.” His lips cover yours, smothering all your doubts. You feel bruises form on your mouth and cheek as he kisses you harshly. Lips trailing down to your neck, he pulls your panties down your legs.

There’s barely time for you to register the cool air hitting your bare center before he’s starting to push himself in. The pain strikes you mute at first. Just the tip of him is so much. Too much. It feels like you will break any second. Coriolanus pants above you, straining to fit as you squeeze around him, fear and pain throbbing through you.

“It’s okay, princess. Daddy’s got you,” he mutters.

When he sinks even further, a broken sob leaves you. A fire burns you from inside, amplifying every time your daddy moves ever-so-slightly.

Tears fill your eyes to the brim.

“I don’t like this game, daddy. Can we stop playing, please?”

He wipes your tears with soft kisses. The words pouring into your ear, while uttered sweetly, are firm. “The game’s not over until daddy says it is, princess.”

Your breath falters as he goes all the way inside. He hums deep in his throat, draping himself over your shaking frame. Your head lolls to the side, your eyes wandering to your dolls and stuffed animals. The abrupt urge to poke their eyes out so they don’t have to see any of this blooms inside you. Tears stream down your cheeks as Coriolanus thrusts inside you. His throaty moans mingle with the slapping of skin against skin. The noises your daddy makes get louder every time he slams into you. He spreads your thighs more, pushing deeper. When you tighten around him, your daddy moans, his eyes rolling back.

“You’re squeezing daddy’s cock so well, princess,” he lauds, knuckles dragging over your temple.

He goes faster, hitting sensitive parts that draw sharp noises of agony from you. Every part of your body is wide awake with pain and discomfort. Numb with a plethora of confusing, terrifying emotions, you don’t move as his hips snap into yours relentlessly.

The game lasts for hours, it seems. You’re thankful when daddy appears done, his movements getting sloppier as his pace slows.

As his hips stutter, his hand wraps around your jaw.

“Daddy’s going to come inside you, so you have to say ‘thank you’”

A hoarse sigh leaves him, his lashes fluttering as he empties himself inside you. You shudder.

“Thank you for coming inside me, daddy,” you mechanically repeat. Bile rises in your throat as the excess gathers around your folds, pooling over your once pristine white sheets.

His sweaty form folds over yours. Another tear slides down your cheek.

“Such a good girl for me.” He buries his head in the crook of your neck and coos, “We’re going to play so many fun games together, princess.”

Your stomach curls with dread at that promise.

#dark!coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #hunger games #tbosas fanfiction #dark!coriolanus snow x reader

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hanrinz · 5 months

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rin, your nonchalant boyfriend.

who is probably that guy who gets on reddit and then posts about you, asking for advice.

like he literally doesn’t know how to show his feelings like how you do and it bothers him!! probably has some ppl cheering him on the replies (& waits on updates)

“took my partner to ice cream today, we got to hold hands. my hands were sweating, is this normal?”

or whenever you’re having a fight and he gets on that app and he’s like “my partner and i had a fight, i can’t sleep.”

“it’s their birthday today, i finally managed to get that one thing they’ve been wanting for months.” he posts there like it’s a diary of sorts like omg.

and then his last post would be about a championship he won, but all he could think about was you and how he searched through the crowd for your face. and he thought that was the last time he’d shared any of those moments, because finally he grew the courage to ask you to be your forever.

people on reddit would often wonder about him and your relationship, it was so endearing in their eyes. and then suddenly a faithful day after a year on his last post he wrote once more.

“we’re married now :)”

it couldn't be helped, what was he supposed to do? feelings were surely overwhelming, that he needed to somehow let it all out, it felt so good that he grabbed his phone and typed out those simple words, a faint smile adorning his face. he’s like a schoolgirl who has a crush, it’s unreal.

and that was his very last post, he almost forgot about it.

it’s also been over two years when you stumbled upon it.

the username ‘rnshi’ it’s a little weird, but you were intrigued for a bit, that it was enough for you to go through it and read every single thing. and you were not one to assume anything, but you can remember these specific memories all too well. and before you know it a smile makes its way to your face, and your heart blooms even more.

and you didn’t care if it was silly, but it made your heart ache so much of love. and maybe you were overreacting, with your eyes tearing up by your lash line, trying to blink it away. a chuckle escapes you, that has caught rin’s attention peeping his head through the side of the wall of the kitchen.

“what are you laughing at?”

and if you didn’t know rin it would’ve come off as questioning and not in a good way, but he’s curious even if he tries not to show it.

turning off your phone as you dip up from the couch of your living room. you’re smiling and rin doesn’t know what to do as you near him. he notices the skip on each of your steps and a glee of happiness revolving around you.

your hands wrapping around his waist as you mush your face onto his back. he can still feel your smile.

a big question mark was planted on his face and you couldn’t help, but to giggle just a little at his confusion.

“you know that i love you right?”

of course, he knows that.

“i know.”

but it was more of a breath of relief than an assurance, because rin loves you more than anything and years of learning everything that could possibly better himself for you was proof of that, and you didn’t need any testimony to tell you that.

all you know is that, your lover is a dork and just sweetly in love just as you are.

◞♡ i’ve been missing rin a lot lately :( likes & reblogs are highly appreciated!

#roses ‘r rosie #he's a loser in my eyes #(i miss him sm im gonna sob)#rin itoshi x reader #blue lock x reader #itoshi rin x reader #bllk x reader

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dominantslasherking · 6 months

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Billy and Stu with dominant Male S/o

My Stories are meant for the much more mature audience, 18+. Backstory: You always manage to catch Billy and Stu's eyes on you, whether it be in the college classroom, or when you're purchase horror stuff, they always seem to follow you. Even in your house you still feel their gazes

The dimly lit college classroom was buzzing with chatter, but not loud enough for the professor to call on anyone. Minding your own business as you were taking notes and sketching little side characters on your notebook out of boredom. Eyes were lingering on you, It wasn't the typical glance or side glance.

The lingering eyes were strong and made you feel a cool sensation run down your spine. With a simple turn of the head, you spotted the two. Billy and Stu, how could not know them? Not only did they garner attention all over the college campus. You would always, always catch them staring, although they may be fast to react and look away.

It can't be a coincidence they just always stare at you, not to mention being in the areas you were, your favorite locations, dining areas.

But the really not-so-funny part is, every time you do end up making a friend at this college, they end up disappearing. It had gotten so bad that even your fellow students grew weary of you, believing you were the infamous 'scream' killer.

However after a night in jail and the kills were happening when you were locked up, you were cleared of suspicion but of course not from the college students.

Once the class ended. You made your way out slinging your bag over the shoulder and sighing.

Almost meticulously, with severe calculation Billy had bumped straight into you. He gave a pretty smile as Billy watched you pick up his books. "Thanks, hah," Billy said his eye gleaming with an intense undertone of desire and pure want.

"It's my fault, I should watch where I was going...lost in thought." Your husky voice mutters, stacking Billy's books neatly in your hand before returning them, noticing the subtle hand movement of Billy where his hand brushed against yours.

Turning your gaze to Billy's friend Stu. Stu was silent, his eyes roaming you. The typically loud and humorous friend was silent strange enough, he licked his lips and gave a big smile. "Wow! I love that shirt!" Billy's face fell at Stu's words, elbowing him in the stomach, not enough to cause him severe pain but make him go 'ow'

"What was that for?!" Stu muttered with a pout. "You idiot, his shirt is just plain gray! what do you mean you like it?" Billy scolded, hinting that he knew Stu was checking [Name] out, and now you probably knew that Stu was eyeballing you.

"Ohhh." Stu muttered, as they continued to whisper and bicker among themselves.

Your chuckle made them pause. "sorry, sorry, you guys are just--funny that's all." You spoke softly, you thought they were cute. Bidding them goodbye, you walk out of the classroom.

Billy stared at stu.

"Whattt? Not my fault he's so sexy!" Stu grumbled out.

<<>>><<>>><><><><><<<>>>>

Later that day. You were at the DVD shop, looking through the thriller/horror second, making sure to get your hands on some classics.

With a loud and abrupt clank, your gaze faltered on the row across from you.

"Oops, did I ruin your guy's peeping session?" Randy had asked Billy and Stu. Stu gritted his teeth, Billy gave a urked glare. But the two of them knowing, your gaze was on them resisted doing something they were dying to do. They would just have to get back at him later.

"Wow! [Name], Thriller & horror movies? Nice dude!" Stu cheered pretending as if he didn't already know that about you...

Stu had started to chitter-chatter with you, while Billy was shooing and waving Randy off. Soon after Randy complied (after rolling his eyes and snarky comments) leaving the three of you alone.

"Ehm,--Well Billy and I, we love those types of genres!" Stu happily said as Billy's attention was now drawn to you, his feverish gaze landing on your lips every time you spoke. Taking a pause you spoke, "Really? why don't you two, come over sometime, we can watch them together?" You ask, as the two slashers freeze, slowly turning to look at each other and then back at you.

"What's the matter?...you don't want to---" Before you could finish what you wanted to say, Billy cut you off. "No-! No, we would love to."

Nodding you smiled, "Sure next time in class, we should set up a time and date." After bidding farewell, and purchasing the movies you got, you left, leaving Billy and Stu to celebrate together.

<<>>><<>>><><><><><<<>>>>

Pausing the movie, you itched the back of your neck, a feeling of a sense of dread washed over you. You had it again. Like someone, was watching, analyzing, observing you.

"Fuck." a whisper, under your breath, as you got up to check your popcorn. Walking to the kitchen, you take out the bowl of popcorn, setting it down as the phone rings.

"Hello?" "What's your favorite scary movie, [Name]?"

#poly ghostface #billy and stu #billy and stu x reader #Billy loomis x male reader #Billy x male reader #Stu macher x male reader #billy loomis x male reader x stu macher #billy loomis x reader x stu marcher #billy x reader x stu #billy x male reader x stu #slasher x male reader #slashers x reader #slashers x male reader

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ro-is-struggling · 10 months

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In Sickness And In Health || Clark Kent x Reader

Summary: You're terrified that your boyfriend Clark —the local superhero and most perfect man on the planet— will see you sick, so you forbid him to visit you while you have a cold. However, when he shows up at your door saying he misses you, he proves that your insecurities were unwarranted.

Warnings: fluff, established relationship, reader being a little insecure, hurt/comfort kinda, my shitty titles (I tried my best :c )

English is not my first language

Word count: 2200

Notes: I wrote this for me while I was recovering from a cold that had me in bed feeling miserable for days. I was a mess and I felt ugly so I wrote this silly little thing to cheer me up as I continued to descend into the Henry Cavill filmography rabbit hole lol I decided to share it bc why not? Hope you guys like it c:

You hated being sick. You hated feeling weak and tired all day, spending hours in bed surrounded by used tissues. You hated that your throat felt scratchy and that your stuffy nose made you have to choose between eating and breathing. You hated having your daily routine interrupted by a stupid cold, but most of all you hated not feeling like yourself.

You were a mess when you got sick, tangled hair tied up in a messy bun and wearing pajamas all day. You usually didn't move from your bed, which resulted in mountains of used tissues piling up on every surface near you. Multiple cups with leftover tea and a packet of crackers decorated the bedside table, being your main source of food for the day. It was an unpleasant sight so you preferred to spend your sick days alone in the quiet of your home where no one could see your red, irritated nose or the filth you were living in.

You had specifically asked Clark not to come by your house for that very reason. You loved him to death, but you weren't prepared to let him see you in that state. You felt ugly when you were sick, almost unworthy to be in the presence of someone as perfect and magnificent as him. Clark was literally the perfect man, he never got sick or had to deal with colds in the winter or allergies in the spring. It was almost impossible to see him disheveled since he was able to stop a building from collapsing with his bare hands without a single hair on his head moving out of place. You knew he loved you and didn't care what you looked like, but you couldn't help but feel self-conscious about it since he was literally perfect. So, to save yourself trouble and to concentrate your energy on recovering, you asked him not to come see you for a few days.

Clark respected your wishes at first, but after two days without seeing you he couldn't wait. He missed you and didn't understand your insistence on being alone, it wasn't as if he could catch a cold from you. So when he finished his shift at the Daily Planet he headed to your apartment —stopping on the way just to buy some groceries and a bouquet of flowers for you. He didn't text you that he was going to see you, knowing that if he did you would find some excuse or some way to convince him to go home instead. That's why you were surprised to see him there when you peeked through the peephole in the door before opening it.

"Clark, what are you doing here?" You exclaimed with a mixture of surprise and annoyance. He wasn't supposed to be there. "I thought I told you not to come here!"

"I know, but I missed you." He pouted and you had to look away from the peep hole before he managed to convince you to let him in with those hurt puppy dog eyes of his. You missed him too, but you were in no condition to be around anyone, let alone him.

"I brought food, I thought maybe I could cook for you while you rest." Clark insisted when you didn't respond. You couldn't help but smile at his thoughtfulness, he sounded so genuinely interested in helping you and taking care of you that it almost broke your heart to have to say no to him.

"I'm not hungry," you lied. "You should go home, Clark."

"Why won't you let me take care of you?" he sighed in frustration. You leaned your forehead against the wood door, debating whether you should tell him the truth. You suddenly felt stupid for having such a specific and probably irrelevant insecurity, but it wasn't like you could control it.

Despite the fact that you and Clark had been dating for quite a while, you still had a fair amount of 'first times'. You hadn't yet gone on vacation together for example, and he still hadn't met your family —though not by his own choice, he really wanted to. And, among other things, he had never seen you being sick. It was such a silly thing, but you felt ugly and disgusting and all you wanted to do was disappear under the covers and not come out until the cold was cured so no human being would ever have to see you in that state.

"It's not that I don't want to," you muttered more to yourself than for him to hear, though you knew he could do it because of his powers. You fiddled nervously with the seam of your t-shirt, feeling a little silly for having to talk about this out loud. "It's just that I'm not in the mood to have guests."

"I'm not a guest, I'm your boyfriend."

“Claaark!” You pouted, begging the universe not to make you say out loud what your real problem was. You heard him let out a chuckle from the other side of the door and rolled your eyes, frustrated that he found the situation funny.

"What?" His voice was a perfect mix of confusion and amusement.

"It's just that... I'm not presentable, the house is a mess and I feel ugly. I'd rather you didn't see me like this."

There was a long silence. Your fingers began to tug at the threads of the seam of the hem of your t-shirt while your teeth nervously nibbled at the skin of your lips, waiting for a response from your boyfriend. The tension grew with every second, time seemed to drag on as the uncertainty of silence ate you up inside. And then you heard a laugh.

Clark was laughing.

It wasn't a mocking or evil laugh, more an expression of his own surprise at your revelation. But it still bothered you. "I'm sorry, is this funny to you?"

"Yeah, a little." He replied with a chuckle and you let out a sigh of genuine disbelief. "I mean, you know I can see you through the door, right?" your eyes grew wide at the realization that due to his powers he had been watching you all this time. You turned quickly, facing away from the door as you hid your face in your hands.

"Clark, stop it right now!" You ordered him and he let out another chuckle. "I mean it!"

"I'm sorry, it's just that I find it a little ridiculous. I mean, you have to know I couldn't care less about how you look. All I want to do is be with you and take care of you, baby." It melted your heart to hear the sincerity in her voice. It wasn't like you didn't know that, but it was nice to hear him say it, to reassure you that his love for you was genuine and pure.

A part of you was dying to be pampered by him, to lose yourself in the warmth of Clark's strong arms as he held you against his chest, soothing all your aches and pains with his presence alone. It was tempting to think of him pacing around the apartment, making tea and cooking dinner while you rested between the sheets. But the other part of you —-the part that was usually in control of your decisions— hesitated, afraid of shattering some sort of illusion or image Clark had of you. It was silly and it only got sillier every time you thought about it, but you still couldn't bring yourself to open the door for him.

"I know, but still... I'm not ready for you to see me like this. I look hideous."

"You could never look hideous, baby." Clark sighed. His voice sounded closer and clearer, an indicator that he had moved closer to the door.

"You're just saying that because you love me and love has made you stupid and blind."

"Well, yeah, of course I love you. But also, you truly are the most beautiful woman in the world." You smiled to yourself, feeling your insides filling with that comforting warm feeling that you could only describe as the flame of love. Clark always knew just what to say to make all your problems go away. It was one of his best abilities, even if it was under-appreciated when compared to the rest of his powers.

"Flattery will get you nowhere." You lied, knowing full well that his sweet words were slowly softening the hard protective shield you had raised around your heart.

"C'mon, sweetheart! I'm gonna have to see you while you're sick eventually. Or what, once we live together you plan to lock yourself in the bedroom for a week and make me sleep on the couch so I don't see you with a cold? Or maybe I'll have to rent a room in a hotel until you get better? Is that what you want?"

You were silent for a moment as your brain tried to process what he had said, not his ridiculous options for staying apart when you were sick, but the part where he mentioned a future together. You'd be lying if you said you hadn't already imagined what your life together would be like for the next forty years. You wanted to wake up next to Clark every morning, share your free time with him and grow old by his side. He was the love of your life, you were sure of that. But what you didn't know was that he was also thinking about your future together.

"Once we live together?" you repeated in an excited whisper, the smile on your face widening. "You think about that stuff?"

"Of course I do!" he assured you, sounding slightly offended that you thought otherwise. It hadn't been his intention to make it obvious that every night before bed he imagined his life with you, but he wasn't hiding it either. He was shamelessly in love with you so why bother disguising it. "I want everything with you, sweetheart. I love you."

All worries faded from your mind, banished by the echo of Clark's sweet words. Your hands worked quickly over the locks on the door, removing the latch before turning the key to unlock it. He had won, there was no way you could tell him to leave after such a confession of love. All you wanted to do was hug him and lose yourself in the warmth of his body until you melted into one, show him how much you loved him and how important his words were to you. It was more than the expression of a wish or a projection of the future. It was a promise. The promise of love and commitment. He wanted to be with you in sickness and in health, in good times and in hard times. Clark loved you as much as you loved him and that was all you needed to know to feel better.

"You cheated." You joked as you opened the door, stepping aside to let your boyfriend in. He smiled in amusement at your childish pout, letting out a slight chuckle as he set the shopping bag aside to close the door behind him

"I was just being honest." Clark looked at you with such adoration in his eyes —his blue orbs glowing with the spark of love— that you couldn't help but feel self-conscious. Blood rushed to your cheeks, making you feel warm for the first time since you'd caught a cold.

"Stop it!" you whined, hiding your face in his chest as a defense mechanism to cope with how vulnerable you felt.

You'd never been good at receiving compliments and always felt awkward when someone said something nice about you, unsure how to respond other than with a shy smile. And even though Clark seemed to make it his favorite pastime to give you compliments, it hadn't gotten any better. You still felt silly every time he complimented your outfit before going out to dinner or when he told you how beautiful you looked the next morning when you woke up in his arms. But just because you didn't know how to respond to his beautiful words other than with smiles and incoherent sounds of happiness didn't mean you didn't appreciate them. On the contrary, you loved the comforting warmth that flooded your insides every time he smiled at you, looking at you with pure love in his eyes. It made you feel special in a way that no one ever had before. It reassured you that you were on the correct path to happiness.

"I love you." You mumbled against Clark's chest and felt him tighten his grip on you, trapping you in his strong arms. You let the warmth of his body envelop you, slowly dissipating all your troubles. His simple presence was more powerful than any drug or medicine you could take, effectively making you forget all your problems in a matter of seconds. His hug alone was able to lift your spirits, restoring color and joy to your tired expression. That was the effect he had on you.

"I love you too, sweetheart." Clark whispered against your hair, placing a delicate kiss on the top of your head. "Now, will you let me take care of you?"

#clark kent x reader #clark kent x female reader #clark kent fluff #clark kent x reader fluff #clark kent imagine #superman x reader #superman x female reader #superman imagine #henry cavill #henry cavill x reader

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munsonsprincess11111 · 3 months

Text

Sleepover.

Eddie munson x reader:

Summary: Eddie's friends decide to all have a sleepover at the trailer. Eddie completely forgets and invites you over.

Eddie's on top of you head on your chest arms around your waist. You've got your legs spread for him to lay in between one hand stroking his back. The other stroking his head. "This is nice." HE mumbles closing his eyes relaxing into your touch.

Your eyes slowly begin to shut when there's loud banging on the door. Eddie jumps out of his skin sitting up. Eddie and you both look at eachother with wide eyes. "If that's the cops m jumping out the window." Eddie says standing up pulling his shirt down getting his shoes on.

"I'll get the door." You mumble walking over to the door. Peeking through the peep hole. "Babe it's only the boys." You shout laughing.

"Ah fuck." Eddie shouts in the distance running down the hallway. "Fuck I forgot they wanted to stay here tonight." HE says biting his lip looking at you. You step out the way and let Eddie open thr door. He let's the group of boys in and says hello to them all. Then Gareth sees you. "OH hey y/n why are you here..." HE askes confused.

Eddie groans "OK I'm sorry I forgot. I completely forgot you guys wanted to stay and invited y/n over for the night. And then you was knocking on the door so I don't know what you want me to do." HE says looking like a child crossing his arms over his chest.

The group of boys groan. Sudden wash of anxiety running over you. "I can just go." You say trying to fix Eddie's mess up.

All the boys says yes and nod. Except Eddie he looks at you annoyed. "NO. Nope. Your not going OK." HE says ignoring the boys.

"Eddie its fine OK." You says smiling walking to Eddie's room to get your bag. He followed after you. "I'll see ya on Monday." You say kissing his cheek. Before he can protest you've walked out the door.

The boys all whooping and cheering Gareth putting beer on the table n the boys taking one. "Common man don't be a downer." Gareth says handing Eddie a beer.

-2 hours later-

" we should all call our girlfriends." Jeff suggests. Eddie's eyes shoot up at him frowning. The boys agree. Going to the phone. First Gareth calls his girlfriend saying he loves her ans stuff. Then Jeff telling his girlfriend he can't wait for there date on Sunday. And then they get Eddie to call you.

You answer within 2 rings. "Hello" you answer.

"Hey babe it's me." HE says glancing at the boys. "What's up Eddie?" You ask sounding slightly disappointed.

"Nothing much just making sure your OK." HE answers biting his lip. "Yeah I'm OK are you?"

Eddie looks at the guys who are silently laughing. "Yeah I'm fine. Glad your OK I'm gonna come over tomorrow at 11 am to spend time with ya OK?" HE askes twisting his ring.

"Yeah that's fine see ya then babe." You answer. "Kay great I love you." HE says looking at his feet.

"I love you too." You say hanging up. The boys start laughing when he puts thr phone down at how awkward Eddie was. He rolls his eyes and sits on the couch.

1:34 AM. the clock starred at him. The others where asleep. And Eddie couldn't sleep. He needed you. He crept up from his spot on the floor over to the door. Silently grabbing his keys slipping his shoes on walking out the door closing it silently.

He got in the van and drove out the trailer park. He parked a block away from your house and walked around to your window which was left open a crack. Lucky for him. He slid the window up and slipped through. He took his shoes off placing them next to the window. He took off his jacket dropping it with his shoes. Then putting his keys on your desk.

He crept to your bed climbing in next to you. "Babe?" HE whispered. Nothing.

"Princess." HE says a little louder. You stir wnd then go back to sleep. "Y/n." HE says louder making you jump awake. Calming when you see who it is.

"The fuck you doing here." You ask half asleep running a hand through his curls. "Can't sleep wanna come back to the trailer with me n go sleep. I'd crash here but I don't want to leave them dicks alone." HE says kissing your cheek.

You nod. Eddie helps you up putting his jacket on you. You slip on your slippers as Eddie slips on his boots. He goes out the window first. You follow him out grabbing his hand as you stand. He wraps and arm around your shoulder walking to the van like that.

Once in the van you turn on the heater nuzzling into Eddie's jacket holing the hand that's not on the steering wheel.

"I felt really bad about you going earlier. N then you sounded pussed on the phone. N I couldn't sleep. So I come to get ya. Sorry if that's annoying." HE says starting at the empty roads

You shake your head. "I was kinda annoyed at the others reaction when I said I'd go. But I'm glad you come to get me. I don't mind you woke me up. Rather be with you then on my own." You say running a finger over his knuckles. You look over at him and see how he looks in the streetlight. Making you smile.

"I love you." You whisper to him. He stops at a stop light. There were no over cars about but he did for the first time in his life. "I love you too." HE whispers back kissing you sweetly.

You arrive at the trailer and Eddie helps you out. Opening your door for you. Then the trailer door. You enter the trailer feeling comfort at the feeling of Eddie. You slip your shoes off so does Eddie. But you keep his jacket on until your in his bed. His arms go around your waist. Yours around his neck so you can stroke his head. He's out like a light within seconds. One more kiss on his head and your out.

The boys notice Eddie's gone so doug walks down to his room. Only to see you both tangled in eachother fast asleep.

"Y/ns here Eddie's asleep." HE tells the others. The others nod. Gareth rights a note for Eddie when he awakens.

Can't believe you ditched us to go get your girl ya softy. Great night call us when your alive.

They pack up and leave.

Eddie wakes up and goes into thr living room seeing the boys have left and the note. He called Gareth asking him to call thr others for him. Then he heads back to his room. Climbing into his bed behind you kissing your neck.

You stir awake smiling feeling Eddie kiss your neck. You turn your head catching his lips on yours. "Morning." You smile.

"Morning gorgeous." HE smiles kissing you again.

"The guys already left so you can walking around naked if ya wanna." HE smirks running his fingers up your side. You giggle at Eddie.

"That make you happy?" You ask smirking. He nods like a child hair going everywhere. "Come shower with me then if your lucky. Maybe." HE needs no more convincing. He stand up pulling you up. Dropping his pj pants and boxers. Taking off your shirt dropping your shorts and panties.

He pick you up bridal style. Your laughing as he kissing you as you enter the bathroom.

"I love you."

"I love you too ya douchbag." You say kissing him

#eddie m #eddie munson thoughts #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x yn #eddie smut #eddie x reader #eddie x you #rockstar eddie munson #eddie my beloved #eddie stranger things

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writingforatwistedworld · 4 months

Note

A request...

Dunno if this has been done already but A self aware Azul, Trey, and Lilia reacting to the player saying they "had a bad day but seeing them made it much better".

Let me know if this is confusing and you're free to not answer of course

Self-aware au

I do not take any responsibility for you reading this no matter which age group you are from!

WARNINGS: Yandere themes, obsessive behavior, unhealthy behavior, mentions of blood, mentions of war, death, bad cringe humor bc I haven't written for a while

Trey Clover/ Azul Ashengrotto/Lilia Vanrouge-"Seeing you made my day better!"

Oh, are you alright?

The second you returned to them, Trey could tell that something was wrong with you

A bad day perhaps?

If he could talk to you he would sit you down to talk about what (or who) ruined your day (whilst secretly planning their demise but pshh)

But then you suddenly stare at the screen and drop something like that at him? Whew... I-I think he is swooning

He almost forgets that you are having a horrible time before all of this until he finally sees you having a strained expression once more before going off

Oh ok. This is fine. This is totally fine. Haha... TOTALLY FINE

Like, imagine my mans expression

He feels honored that you feel and think that way about him but at the same time...

Bro over here can't really help

He tries to be as present as possible after that

(Toatally not like a cat throwing itself on your lap for attention)

In his mind, the more present he is the better you feel

(Not like peeps play games to escape reality but sure, if Trey wants to see himself as your emotional aspirin then sure)

But perhaps his attention really helped, perhaps something good just happened that got you in a good mood

So when you finally said that seeing him made your day so much better it felt like the sun was peeking out from behind the clouds after a long storm

Well, luckily he didn't need to conspire with Draconia to get you here anymore

But then again, if what you said was true then him being with you would keep you happy all the time, right?

Oh what he does for his go-I mean his uncrowned ruler

This brings back a lot of dark memories for him

And I mean that literally

His memories of these days are filled with him sitting in a dark corner of his little pot

Only with the difference that for him his ray of light was food, for you it… is whatever this is

It does surprise him though

You, the high scholar, wisest of the wise, were more human than he imagined you to be

Well, to be fair, it was easy to imagine you as that unfeeling being that hovered over all of them

Day after day did the octopus see you do whatever you came to do and then go again

Although… you always made sure to check on him whilst having that faint smile on your face

How sweet. Doesn’t make him worry any less though

Until one day you finally tell him that seeing him made your day better

Wow… how is he supposed to react to that?

His inspiration for everything he does sees him in that light

This totally won’t get to his now. Naw. I have no idea what you are talking about

Continue to tell him that. Tell him how much his presence makes you happy

And if you should look in the direction of some unfortunate NPC that unknowingly made you laugh he will see red

Interesting, his cane looks a bit red as well. The handle area should be cleaned again… why is it so sticky?

Lilia is not amused

Sleep deprived, yes, but not amused

Oh why that? Well, this father decided to pray even more to you in order to cheer you up

Now, if you know anything about Lilia in this au then you also know how religious he is, so him praying even more? Uh… perhaps he gets two hours of sleep at best

You are his god so surely you hear his words, asking you why your expression is always so sad, so exhausted

STOP SHARPENING YOUR SWORD YOU OLD BAT THERE IS NO NEED TO START A HOLY WAR IN THE OVERSEERS NAME WTF MADE YOU EVEN THINK OF THAT SOLUTION??!

Anyways, if Lilia is not in a good mood, so is entire Diasomnia. He is more or less the dorms old and wise fairy grandmother who hands out advice like lollipops so when he is not in a good mood, so is nobody else

No matter what the local group of non-violent military trained guys do, they just can’t cheer up their usually oh so happy teacher and guide

Lilia reminds the NPCs of the dorm of a certain general they read about in the history books (but there is no way that could be Lilia)

Until one day he walks in like he is in a romance anime, looking up with sparkling eyes to the altar and thanking your statue for your favor

If this was any other dorm, he would have been send to the school therapist (oh yeah, they have a shrimp instead of that)

When asked by his son what happened Lilia just looks up, still with that weird look in his eyes, tells him that “I have finally been noticed by our grace”

Malleus is telling Sebek in the meantime to call for a doctor because it seems like their general just lost his last few marbles

What really happened was Lilia heads down dangling from who knows where, perhaps the cafeteria chandelier, and asking himself what could have made you so sullen the last few days

Until suddenly you zipped in, looked at him (probably once up to his knees and then down to his head whilst saying “Mhm. Looks good.”) and were like “Seeing you made my day better.”

That was the moment when Lilia lost his grip on the metal and fell face-first, thankfully it was already late so no one was present but if I got a coin every time he fell like that I would have one, which tells us how rarely that happens

How about you go to whatever NPCs that govern the other countries and warn them that there is a high low-key mad general who would start would annihilation if you so much as feel slightly sluggish

You know those people who need to hear compliments constantly so they don't go bananas? Yeah

Whoops. Seems like you complimented the uniform of Octavinelles uniforms after seeing one of their NPCs. Wonder what happened to that guy. He isn't attending his classes anymore, that's for sure

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nolita-fairytale · 10 months

Text

burn your life down | chef luca x fem!reader | chapter one

summary: leaving your old life behind, you move to copenhagen to follow your dream of opening a restaurant. almost a year after opening, luca's quest for inspiration brings him right to your doorstep.

warnings: fluff, eventual smut, eventual angst not use of y/n, second person pov, swearing, danish inaccuracies, very little connection to the world of the bear.

word count: 2500

a/n: remember when i said we'd get pastry chef luca fanfic whether we liked it or not? well, it seems i can't be normal about anything bc i have an outline of (potentially) 10 chapters right now based on this headcanon. while i try to keep reader characters pretty neutral so that you can picture yourself, i have this reader creating food from her own life experiences/cultures so do what you will with that. also, i tagged some peeps from my headcanon post, but please let me know if you'd like to be removed.

masterlist | part two

He’s in search of inspiration when he finds the restaurant – your restaurant.

It’s an American stagiaire and a single conversation that makes him realize that he’s missing something – that he’s been in need of something fresh, a new perspective– setting him on his quest.

The best things are inspired.

Luca stares at a blank piece of paper for what feels like hours, writing a few things down, sketching up an idea, before viciously crossing them out, hopelessly stuck on new ideas for the new menu. After a few half-baked ideas that go nowhere, It occurs to him that he may be in need of a little inspiration himself. He can’t think of the last time he’s taken his own advice, mulling over the carefully-chosen words of wisdom imparted to Marcus a couple of weeks ago, and he’s determined to change that.

A review in the paper, an old colleague’s recent trip there, and a glowing recommendation from a close friend are what bring him to the restaurant.

He’s not sure what to expect – having forgone any interest in cuisine described with the words trendy or fusion a long time ago – but Luca reminds himself that it’s the writer’s word choice, not the chef’s, when writing the article.

When Luca steps into the small home-turned-restaurant, he’s immediately inundated with a warmth, a homeyness, that takes him by surprise. From the open kitchen, to the golden lighting, it feels vastly different from the classic Danish-style, fine dining establishments that have swept the country.

But Luca reminds himself that the announcement of noma’s 2024 closure, has shifted the conversation around dining culture in Denmark, and already, he can feel that this is the breath of fresh air that he’s been looking for.

Luca’s seated quickly with care and hospitality by a highly-attentive host, which he only assumes is a symptom of the fact that he read somewhere that you’re an American. While Danish, the host is boisterous, as if he’s known Luca since childhood. Luca smiles politely in response, graciously thanking the man and his chocolate brown curls.

The menu is small, indicating that each dish receives enough care to be excellent and he likes that, despite being described as trendy and fusion-focused, your menu is creative. It’s different. It’s inspired.

He chooses the special of the day: the mapo tofu bolognese – a traditionally Italian concept done from an Asian perspective – and the suggested wine pairing.

It doesn’t take long for him to receive his glass of wine, or his food, and he’s pleasantly surprised by how efficient service seems. Stealing glances through the open kitchen, he watches as you and your sous lead dinner service with a kind of compassionate leadership and playfulness that warms him from the inside out.

“We recommend mixing the whipped tofu into the dish for a creamier sauce. Skal,” his waitress greets, with a warm smile on her face as she sets down the bowl of noodles.

“Cheers,” Luca replies, his eyes savoring every single detail of the dish.

It’s somehow elevated, thoughtful, and elegant, yet comforting all at once.

Luca picks up his fork, using it to collect a little bit of everything – a perfect noodle twirl with just enough sauce, and ground pork before running his fork the whipped topping – raising the fork to his lips for his first bite.

As the flavors hit his tongue, he closes his eyes, and it’s as if time has stopped, just for a moment.

The wheat noodles are perfectly al dente while the whipped tofu is almost ricotta-like, transforming into a silky smooth addition to the dish, cutting the tingle and heat of the Sichuan chili peppercorn-based sauce.

The corners of his lips turn up as he takes a breath, opening his eyes as he savors the delicate layers of flavors. With a crooked smile on his face, he decides that he’ll most certainly be back next week.

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

You make peace with the fact that tonight is one of those nights – a slow night – as you finish washing your hands. It being a slow night, you’d encouraged your staff to up the hospitality at the pre-shift meeting. Treating guests with the utmost personal touches in an effort to build genuine connections would be the focus of tonight’s slow service. In fact, you and Mathilde, your sous chef, had been running dishes out this evening – something you rarely had the luxury to do.

“You should go say hello,” your sous encourages, nodding towards the dining room through the expansive window of the open kitchen.

“Thought it was your turn,” you reply in a casual tone, paying no attention to who she’s referencing.

“No, I think you should take this one,” Mathilde nudges you, causing you to look up. You shoot her a funny look, your eyes flickering over the mischievous expression she has on her face, to where she’s gestured towards.

“To-?” you begin to ask, before seeing exactly who she’s talking about.

“Ehm. Tall, blonde, and tatted!” she emphasizes in a whisper yell.

You don’t really need the description as you glance over at the dining room, easily spotting the man seated at a two-seater near the front window.

“You’re right. He’s become a bit of a regular,” you agree with a curt nod that means all business, no pleasure, as you move a few things as you walk and talk around the kitchen, tidying up.

“That’s not what I meant,” she scoffs with a playful eye roll.

“You know, Jesper thought he was Swedish because… look at him… but he’s apparently a Brit,” she gossips with you, her eyes stealing a glance his way. “We’re slow tonight. He’s here every week. Sure he’d appreciate a direct thank you from the chef!”

“I-,” you hesitate, wondering why she’s so damn insistent on this. “... yeah, alright. I’ll go.”

“That’s my girl!” Mathilde cheers, in a sing-song voice, she hands you the beautifully plated bowl of pasta to take out to the dining room.

As you walk over towards his table, you make a note that it seems as if the mystery man has made this a bit of a routine. He shows every Saturday at exactly 7 pm, week after week, for the past month or so, as if it’s a standing date he has with himself. After his first visit, you half-expected him to bring a date when he returned, or bring a group of friends, or for something different to happen.

But it hadn’t and you’ve watched him come in, week after week, with a different book each time. He always orders the special of the day and whatever suggested wine pairing Jesper’s recommended that week.

Most Saturday nights you're busy leading a kitchen or cooking on the line – having little to no time to fixate or wonder curiously over your weekly diner – but tonight’s pace affords you the luxury to spend more time at the front of house. Truthfully, you know it’s the thing that sets you apart. Sure, the hospitality here in Copenhagen is excellent, but you bring an American hospitality-style to this restaurant – and above and beyond mentality – that feels welcoming, personal, even, as if your restaurant itself is just an extension of your home.

You’ve heard your staff – front of house and back of house – whispering about him, all seemingly enamored and enchanted by the charming Brit. All any of you knew about him was that his name was Luca and that he’s always more than kind to your front of house staff.

He doesn’t say much when he comes in, you’ve noticed, but every Saturday at 7 pm, he’s pushing his way through the front door with punctuality and a gentle ease.

The whisperings from your staff had all revolved around who your mysterious regular must be: whether he was Danish or Swedish, that someone that good looking must already have a partner, that he doesn’t wear a ring.

You hadn’t paid much attention to the gossip (or at least that’s what you’ve told yourself) more focused on running dinner service then trying to piece together the story of your handsome, mysterious regular.

“Hello,” you greet him warmly. “I just wanted to come introduce myself and say thank you for becoming one of our regulars. Your support means a lot to all of us.”

“Hi, I’m Luca.”

You share your name with a smile as he shakes your hand.

Luca turns his attention down to the bowl you’ve put in front of him, his eyes taking in the beautiful presentation hungrily.

“Wow, this looks… incredible,” he marvels, returning his gaze back to you.

“Thank you. I’m sure my front of house already walked you through this but if you’d like for me to-,” you begin.

“Yes, that’d be great, thanks,” he interjects, a crooked smile on his face that makes your heart skip a beat.

You have to pull your attention away from him, hoping he doesn’t notice that you’re quite possibly gawking at him.

He’s kind, charming, and he’s easy on the eyes (easy on the eyes, really being an understatement here).

“Today’s special was inspired by a childhood favorite of mine,” you begin, walking him through each component of the dish.

Crispy Rice. Caramelized marinated trumpet mushrooms and charred broccolini. Your mom’s sauce approached with classic French techniques, courtesy of your sous, Mathilde, a classically French-trained chef.

It’s a marriage of your story. Of the people around you. It’s your heart and theirs, put into a dish.

“You’re the chef?” he asks, unable to hide the surprise in his voice.

“Yes,” you answer, trying your best to get a read on him.

He balks, and you’re unsure of how you’re supposed to respond. Was he surprised that you’re a woman? That he’s been eating your food the whole time and expected a male chef? Before you can overthink it, Luca clarifies with:

“I’m sorry. It’s just-, I can't think of the last time I saw a head chef work front of house, let alone with this much care.”

Oh.

You let down your guard, wondering why you’d assumed the worst when the man’s been nothing but kind to you and your staff so far.

"We're a little short staffed tonight. And I love getting to talk to diners… especially on nights like this,” you explain, trying your best to sound like you hadn’t just assumed that he was a sexist asshole.

He shakes his head in disbelief, looking down at the picturesque bowl, then back to you.

Luca is impressed, and he has no intention of hiding it.

He picks up his wine glass by the stem, raising it to you.

"Cheers,” he says. “And thank you. This is a really beautiful dish.”

“Of course. Enjoy,” you reply, giving him a polite smile, before heading back into the kitchen.

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

“Good service tonight, everybody!” Jesper, your front of house manager, announces while clapping a few times to signal to staff that it’s time for a post shift meeting.

As you all gather in the pristine front of house space. Some of your cooks have taken their aprons off, others haven’t had a moment to unwind from the shift yet – business picking up in the last hour or so of service.

Jesper goes through his nightly wrap-up notes, celebrating the wins of tonight, and making sure to celebrate how everyone rallied to pick up pace when business spiked. He’s gregarious, larger-than-life, the kind of person who can talk to anyone about anything, making him an excellent front of house manager, and even better sommelier. You really lucked out with the twins, you think to yourself – with Jesper and Mathilde – when they were more than eager to work with you on opening this restaurant.

“Oh, and before we go, a client left a gift… table number four,” Jesper says, in reference to Luca’s table. He pulls a tan-colored pastry box from another table, setting it down on a table where everyone can take a look.

“As a thank you. He requested for me to share. So have it and let’s make a note next time he’s in to really treat him like a VIP.”

One of your most-talented servers opens the box, eliciting a chorus of gasps, giggles, and excited whispers as soon as the assortment of croissants and pastries are revealed.

You and Mathilde exchange a look as everyone else busy themselves with unpacking the pastry box. Mathilde raises an eyebrow and you’re not sure what to say. Witnessing your silent exchange, Jesper makes his way over to the both of you, before extending his arm to reveal the card he’s holding.

“And this, my dear…” he begins, exchanging a look with his sister. “...is for you.”

“What do you-, just me?” you ask as you take it, hesitantly.

“I think so, yeah,” he nods, confidently.

To the Chef, the front of the card reads.

“Jesper, let’s check out some of these pastries, yeah?” Mathilde suggests, not so subtly hinting towards her brother.

He nods, giving you a little space so that you can read the card Luca’s left for you.

As your staff divvy up the box of laminated pastries, sighing with joy as they taste the decadent, hand-crafted sweets, you take a few steps away to open the note. His handwriting is pristine – perfectly neat in every way, like he’s written over carefully measured invisible lines.

Chef,

Thank you for all of the great meals. I'd like to return the favor, that is, if you're open to it.

Tomorrow. 5 pm. Dronningens Tværgade 2, 1302

While Luca’s gift has been more-than-generous, you find yourself overwhelmed by questions. Was he a chef too? And why had he not said anything? And what was this gesture all about anyways?

You read the card a few more times, turning the words over in your head as you try to make sense of it.

Mathilde can see your overwhelm, your eyebrows knitted into one confused expression as she saunters back over to you.

“What does it say?” she asks, curiously. “A love confession perhaps?”

“Mathilde, you really have to stop reading all of those French romance novels!” you tease her. “It’s giving you too many ideas.”

“It’s the only way I keep up with my French!” she defends herself with a lackadaisical shrug, earning a laugh from you.

“Uh no… it’s actually a thank you card… only I think he… wants to feed me,” you share with her, holding the card out so that she can take a look.

“He’s a chef too?” she asks, taking the card from your hands.

“I think so, yeah,” you reply, letting out an exasperated laugh.

“Oh shit!” Mathilde exclaims, as soon as she sees the address that Luca’s written down.

“What?” you ask her, wondering if there’s something you missed.

“The address… that’s AOC. I think he’s a chef at AOC, babe,” she gasps, shaking her head as she hands the card back to you, sending a ‘you lucky, bitch’ look your way.

Oh shit, is right.

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