#canned tuna fresh tuna hell yeah tuna

[firefox-official]

interesting inbox today

#🪝🦈frrrrr #favorite shark is the tiger shark #i do like tuna #canned tuna fresh tuna hell yeah tuna #spicy tuna mmm

[goldenraeofsun]

“Jesus Christ, would you mind not dying while I’m eating my lunch?”

Dick wakes up with a pounding head and aching ribs. “What?”

“Oh, you’re actually awake.”

Dick forces his eyes open. Jason’s less than charming face swims into view, one cheek bulging with food. Above Jason is an unfamiliar popcorn ceiling lightly streaked with yellow – no doubt a product of Jason’s stress habit of chain smoking.

Huh, Jason is actually eating lunch right now, Dick did hear that right. 

“And don’t move.” Jason swallows. “I just stitched you up, and if you bleed on my couch, I’m gonna kill you for real.”

Dick moves to sit up, ignoring Jason’s squawk of offense. “I’d be surprised if any piece of furniture in your place doesn’t already have some blood on it,” he points out, breathing heavily as his ribs ache in protest.

“Yeah, but it’s my blood.” Jason sits back, eyeing him critically. 

Dick levels him a flat glare. “I don’t have cooties, Jay.”

Jason reaches behind him and snags a plate with what looks like a half-eaten peanut butter and jelly sandwich. “Says you.” He takes another bite. “I was going to have fresh tuna with dill and red onion slathered with black garlic aioli on house-baked sourdough at that new cafe that charges you for bailing on your reservation, but somebody had to get shot up around the corner with no fucking backup at noon on a Saturday.”

Dick winces. “I thought backup was coming.”

He had pinged Tim on the comms that he should suit up in case things got rough. And Tim had responded… by pinging Jason.

Not Dick’s finest hour. 

Especially because he’d done a double take at the sight of Jason’s shiny red helmet instead of Tim’s tired grin and gotten himself stabbed in that half second of distraction.

“In case the World’s Second Best Detective didn’t put it together,” Jason continues waspishly, “Tim was not joking when he told you he sprained his wrist doing a hula hoop trick.”

Yes, Dick eventually caught on. Jason didn’t make it easy, though. Instead of spewing his usual growled quips during the fight, he went on a Mad Libs style rant about tuna, hula hoops, and the merits of fratricide. Dick finally got what he was saying just as he was passing out. 

On a related note, Dick also might be dealing with a mild concussion.

Dick flails. “I mean, would you have believed that hula hoop story?”

“Totally,” Jason says at once. “That bullshit sounds exactly like TimTam.”

Dick sighs heavily and resists the urge to brood on his failure to foster a better relationship between Jason and Tim. “You don’t even know him. Not really.”

Because Jason, like Tim, like every Robin who put on the cape and colors, was notoriously stubborn. And once Jason decided he didn’t want to get to know Tim even after the pit rage had settled, Dick has been having a hell of a time changing his mind.

“Sure I know him,” Jason argues. “Yay high,” he gestures somewhere around his knees, “stole my name and outfit twice, has a shrine dedicated to you in the back of his closet.”

Dick blinks in surprise. “A what?” 

“You didn’t know about that?” Jason says innocently. “He has like a dozen pictures of you and the old man in your glory days.”

Dick grimaces. “I stopped being Robin at eighteen.”

“Yeah,” Jason polishes off the first half of his sandwich, “sucks to peak early, doesn’t it?”

Dick almost laughs but remembers his ribs just in time. Instead, he schools his face into something resembling a frown. “You’re such an ass.”

“An ass who saved your life,” Jason says. “Careful. I can yank those stitches right back out, you know.”

Dick settles back on the couch, craning his neck to inspect Jason’s patch job. A neat pad of gauze hides the deep knife wound on Dick’s bicep, and a soothing cream covers the large bruise taking up valuable real estate on the right side of his torso. He scans the window behind him, trying to gauge how long he was out of it, but the downtown Gotham smog covers most of the view in a grayish sepia tone. “What time is it?”

“A little after three,” Jason says as he takes another bite.

Dick’s stomach rumbles. 

Jason stiffens. “Oh no,” he says, his eyes narrowing, “I’m not playing nursemaid and chef. Find your own lunch.”

“But I’m injured,” Dick says piteously as he makes his eyes as round as possible.

Jason remains unfazed and finally proves he left half his heart in the Lazarus pit along with his scrawny teenage muscles. “You should’ve thought of that before you interrupted my real lunch.”

Dick’s gaze slides from Jason’s face to the last half of his peanut butter and jelly, considering. He has definitely had worse in the med bay post-patrol. Bruce’s preferred brand of protein bars still makes him gag a little bit. 

As Jason tracks his gaze, his frown deepens. “No, Dick,” he says sternly, like he’s speaking to a misbehaving golden retriever.

“But Jay –”

Jason crams the whole thing into his mouth. “’u wan’ it? Come ’n get it,” he says, spewing half chewed crumbs all over Dick’s starving, coalescing body. 

Dick recoils. His little brother is such a jackass. Tim would never treat him this way. 

“I hate you,” Dick calls as Jason gets up.

“That’s an odd way of saying you owe me, Dickface,” Jason says over his shoulder as he heads into the kitchen. “Specifically, twenty four dollars for that sandwich.”

“Seriously?” Dick’s mouth falls open. “That’s outrageous!”

“Funny, that’s what I was thinking the entire time I was saving your ass.”

“For one sandwich?”

“I have a little thing called taste,” Jason calls over the sound of running water. “You could get some, someday.”

“I have a little thing called common sense,” Dick grumbles, “and I’m pretty sure I just saved you from being conned by a sandwich.”

If it’s three in the afternoon, then by the time he gets back to the Manor, it will be nearly four. Alfred will make him stay for dinner, which is fine; there’s nothing better than a homemade dinner after the day he’s had. But Alfred also has a strict no-snacks-before-dinner rule, so Dick won’t get to eat for another four hours at the earliest. He really shouldn’t have skipped breakfast this morning –

A brand new, unchewed PB&J gets shoved in front of his face. Dick beams up at his favorite little brother. 

“I’m adding it to your tab,” Jason says sourly.

#batfam #batfam fanfic #jason todd #dick grayson #dick grayson fanfic #jason todd fanfic #rae writes fic

[saltygilmores]

Thoughts While Watching Gilmore Girls-3x8: Let The Games Begin aka Let The ShitCircus Begin Aka Clowntown (Part 2)

@ernestonlysayslovelythings: "Luke saying "Rory will rub off on Jess" seems like a missed opportunity for a joke" Indeed, my friend. He lobbed me a softball and I missed the catch. In all fairness, I was ducking it in hopes that said softball would miss me and bean Lorelai in the forehead. *cracks knuckles* *deep inhale*

Rory and Jess have just signed an 8 month No Rubbing Off contract. Rory is saving all Rubbing Off until marriage. Not her marriage, just a marriage (okay, fine,I plagarized this one) There will be no Rubbing Off until funding for the Handjobs For the Hollow initiative is secured

Shane : (emitting a series of swan honks) Translation: “I was rubbing off on him every day! Until he fucking cut off my hands!" At least I think that's what she said. There are different swan dialects. I’m still learning how to translate, doing SwanOLingo…

After Kirk comes into the diner grief stricken about his missing Dance Marathon trophy, Rory arrives after, where she appears nervous and has a very stilted and awkward interaction with Luke, and my brain was so half asleep that I couldn't figure out why. Then I'm like...oh yeah. That whole Jess thing. Right. Someone just woke the hell up.

I love that this scene is supposed to take place after school (confirmed by Kirk asking Rory where she was at 10am today and she says school) and Jess is rubbing his eyes like he just woke up.

It's nice to see Rory looking at Jess like a deer caught in the headlights because she in quiet awe of him, as opposed to Rory looking at Dean like a dear in the headlights because she fears him.

Tomatos sign! Another reminder that this feral kitten is a grown woman's arch nemesis and in a few moments she's going to say she wishes he would die in a house fire. Don't listen to him, Luke. Look at this kitten. He's clearly emaciated. He got seperated from his feral cat colony and he's hungry. *checks for microchip* *puts out a tin of tuna* *pspspsps*

You would, miss Eats Parmesan Cheese Straight from the Can and Sandwiches With No Innards and French Toast Without Utensils. Soon to be Miss E Coli. We interupt this nonsense for some breaking news. As I was writing this, I was interrupted by an earthquake.

This must have been God breaking free of the heavens and blessing the union between Rory and Jess. Or more like Satan breaking free from the earth and cursing this bitch.

Smoother than a fresh jar of Skippy, this SexCriminal.

This was a grade a Filet Mignon Okuh right here. I will continue to delight in the fact that Rory and SexCriminalJess dated for 6-7 months and despite all the fretting from adults with nothing else to do but nose into the sex lives of adult teenagers, they never have sex, and after all that fuss and furious cockblocking she just ends up screwing Dean instead. The fact that the adults in Stars Hollow are so in awe of Jess' sexual prowess to believe that if Rory were to be in his presence unsupervised for mere moments, her clothes would just fly off and they'd be found humping on the floor is hilarious and infuriating but also, not completely untrue.

"There goes my nephew the Gigolo" He's in awe the speed in which his nephew works, as it would take Luke over 4 years to get Lorelai upstairs alone to makeout.

#SexCriminals Look at all this furious naked humping going on. By god, I bet she's already pregnant. This is the sexiest complete avoidance of eye contact I've ever seen. You better hurry and put a stop to this, Adults!

That kiss was so chaste Mama Kim wouldn't even blink. She could bring them to church and use them as explemary role models for abstinence. They're even Leaving Room for Jesus. Luke:

That was A MINUTE. I know we're going to hear from Lorelai at a future time about how Crusty impregnated her with the speed of a jackrabbit on Adderall, so Jess could theoretically knock Rory up in a few seconds using telepathy or something, but give the boy some damn credit. Can't you people let this kid have ANY fucking joy (or privacy) in his life? I am so mad. It takes a lot for me to get mad at Luke Danes. This is what Luke and Lorelai are imagining will happen in less than a minute:

#gilmore girls #denise rewatches gilmore girls #Let The Shit CIrcus Begin #I mean #Let The Games Begin #LTGB #jess mariano #literati #rory gilmore #luke danes #gilmore girls season 3 #ive reached my limit for today with this one #Luke sucks

[tadpal]

if you were a mermaid... what kind of tail would you have?? (species, colour, vibe, etc)

this is such a contentious question for girls who grew up on a beach so i do have several answers prepared bc obviously it was needed at the time ESPECIALLY since 2000s mermaid trend was ON TREND anyway

all that to say when i was a kid i would pretend to be a dolphin girl. yeah fr. i had several glass figures and when i was learning to surf i got a board with a dolphin on but this was all a ruse to impress the girls in my surf class. although i have seen dolphins often in the cove and off the rocky beach and i did and do think they're incredible honestly i preferred to watch for blue whales and thought dolphin mermaids weren't very cool. dolphins are cool companions for mermaids but i was kind of a mermaid purist: mermaids should be fish with obvious scales. but for the dolphin girls all the boys in their games would be sharks and i hated sharks as i was deadly afraid of tiger sharks which in fairness, did swim up the river to breed every year and attacks did happen but. yeah i thought the shark boys were also lame. so when trying to fit in with this lot i made the decision to be an orca mermaid who had lost its pod and was trying to live with the dolphins. the dolphin girls hated this until they realised that they could do a storyline in which i never move past my evil orca hunger and end up killing and eating several girls in a bloodlust that would then fade and i weep over their bodies. in real life this looked like a game of tag with biting and theatrics.

so that was probably my first mermaidsona and it was definitely a poser moment for however it was not the only poser sona i had. outside of my swim+surf classes i had friends who were also mermaid girls but who weren't sporty or into The Ocean like the dolphin girls tended to be. they thought the dolphin girls were weird and wanted to be Mermaids like you would see in Barbie mermaidtopia, but with them, the personas tended to be less in depth. my tail was aquamarine or blue, with white fins, and i can swim really fast and crest the waves without being easily seen. i was not usually a royal but sometimes i was a middle sister if we were all princesses. often i was was the boy or prince merman. my best friends were a school of flying fish and a sperm whale. i was really good at hiding (bc of the wave thing) and my romance plot was often the princess noticing the weird hiding prince when no one else would and i show them all the magic of the seas etc. if we were playing mermaids who were are landpeople, my land job would be guy who cleans/owns an oceanfront hotel/bnb and sneaks out to water at night when hes not working. while this was More Me than the dolphin girl persona, it didnt really feel like me either, i disliked the vagueness and how none of them cared about the ocean only using it as a setting with no curiosity for it. (alas ive always been a bit of a snob)

my TRUE MERMAID SELF was this: yellowfin tuna

idk why i just felt a lot of kinship with them. at the time i was so scared of sharks and seals and everything really. just a very fearful child and i remember really longing for that school (of fish) mentality of just moving as one and that keeping them safe. i also knew that i had to be a migratory species bc we moved so constantly and i needed a fish that never really had a home. the yellowfins would come yearly to the coast i lived on and that was important to me. mostly i felt like they had a desperation to the way they move I remember seeing one in the bottom of a boat and it just fighting for its life choking to death and thinking oh hell yeah me too brother. i loved their reputation for tourists coming to fish them and then snapping their shitty lines. I loved their sleek cool bodies and their sick long fins (cooler and longer than all the other tuna). i liked that they were fast as hell and Big. i liked how they tasted fresh! i was so convinced that i was Destined to be a tuna mermaid but god. that was so lame to both my groups of mermaid friends. i drew it once i think and petitioned my Barbie Mermaid friends to be a flying fish mermaid, which was the better design i think but had less soul... ack well. being a kid a weird

#ask tad #anon #tad talks

[theres-whump-in-that-nebula]

I typed in “highest protein foods ever” and — aside from whey protein and other things like fresh haddock and pollock which are extremely expensive — it turns out tuna has the highest protein content per calorie, followed somewhat closely by chicken breast. It looks like oats and brown rice have a decent amount of protein as well so I’ll have to get some in bulk.

So I went to Aldi (I’m from America and we have Aldi Sud, which is different than Aldi Nord; Aldi Nord is on the boycott list) and purchased six cans of albacore tuna, one can of chicken breast, two cans of French-style green beans, two cans of potatoes, and one can of carrots. I also purchased two dozen eggs (in cardboard; not styrofoam, of course) and a giant container of vinegar for use as a multipurpose cleaner and laundry detergent which will probably last me at least half a year.

$18.85 hell yeah AND I didn’t break the eggs on the way home despite getting irritated with the stupid “press to cross” button because it DOESN’T FUCKING WORK and basically rushing in front of a car because I wasn’t about to wait for it to turn when it didn’t turn last time after two full cycles. I knew I could make it if I swerved left a little and I did. I didn’t get hit. I’m not dead. This is not my ghost speaking. It didn’t faze me at all; I know the driver is probably shaken though. Sorry, man.

Once I get the brown rice I can make tuna and vegetable stir fry with an egg scrambled in. I’m sure my neighbors will appreciate the smell SJDBJDJDNDNDJDJNDNSNSN that’s what they get for making the heat vents smell like weed. Tuna attack. Suck it. I’ll need to ride my bike for 45 minutes straight over “gentle hills” (gentle my ASS) soon so I’ll cook that meal the night prior and have it for breakfast. I have a small can of orange soda I saved from the staff break room when we had treats, which I will take with me in case I need sugar on the road.

Other things I’m noticing from riding a bike around all the time:

The webbing between my thumbs and forefingers feels raw from rubbing on the handlebars all the time

Riding into a strong gust of wind IS THE LITERAL DEVIL

”Push to cross” buttons don’t work half the time. They do the BEEP beep but they don’t change the picture to the little white walking man. Yay for pedestrian safety! /s

I am not as in shape as I thought

Ride as hard as you can on dips then stop pedaling when going back up to conserve energy and not kill yourself

#exjw #pomo #ex cult #It seems I’ve developed nerves of steel. I feel invincible on my bike which is a bad thing because I really don’t need to take risks. #With this and the foodstuff my parents gave me I think it will last me from now ‘til August if I control my portion sizes carefully #I put it on the credit card just so my score doesn’t go down when I need to get a car. It’s food so it shouldn’t be detrimental to it #I don’t like using the credit card. I hate the concept of a credit card. I’m the kind of person who’d rather pay everything up front #Until age seventeen I didn’t even like the idea of a debit card because I felt safer just paying in cash #Now it’s obviously more convenient because that’s how I get my paychecks and it’s a hassle to put your change away

[borathae]

I apologize for any distress or discomfort of the third question 🙇 My condolences to you Sibi.

Here's light-hearted ones.

1. Imagine you are on a dream date with Yoongi. You both decide to go for a picnic in a beautiful park. What kind of food would you bring to impress him, and what activities would you plan for your perfect outing?

2. It's a sunny day, and you find yourself stuck in an elevator with Jungkook. While waiting for help, you both decide to pass the time by playing a game. What game would you suggest playing and how would you make the most out of this unexpected bonding opportunity?

Thank you for your wishes, I miss him everyday. His death was really sudden, despite his illness so yeah. But to nicer notes, I'll answer your questions now hehe also, excuse if my answers make no sense, my stupid ass reckless colleague had Covid and I have it now as well :)) I really love reckless people :)) they really lighten up my life :)) I didn't catch covid during the hardcore phase and now get it because of this asshole :)))

ofmgm I love picnics :( I know a hell of a spicy tuna rice roll, so I'll definitely make that. Also, egg rolls because yes. Then some sort of salad, probably potato salad because I love potato. A Charcuterie (?) board with fresh fruit and baguette. I would also cut at least one fruit like hearts because I want to <3 and some sort of cake or cookies for dessert. Also coffee for him and tea for me and some sort of homemade lemonade. As for activities I would love to do this thing with him where we paint but we exchange canvases every five minutes. Also taking cute pics together and playing a card game. And tbfh? I'd already be happy to only lounge around and listen to music (and make out).

mhhm are there any games you can only play with your body 🤔 I mean, knowing me I'd be stuck with my notebook and pens so I'd whip those out and play "Stadt Land Fluss" with him. It's a game where you say a random letter of the alphabet and then you have to find words starting with the letter in diffferent categories (like cities, country etc.). Or I would also do the thing where we exchange canvases every five minutes 🤔 also karaoke heloo???

#anon #asks #come talk to me

[siberat]

Round 7

Oh man, how much more can Ratc/het’s belly hold?  It overflowed and went right to his thighs!  Don’t they look to soft and squishy?  I think Rat/chet is a bit shocked at how big his body has become. He probably didn’t realize how much he ate!

Anyways- onto what he ate:

1.     Coal Burger: Nothing beats the good ol’ classic comfort foods, right?  Here we have a burger consisting of coal- and a very greasy/oily grade- which makes it the tastiest!  Mixed into the coal is an assortment of ores, such as copper, magnesium, and uranium. Fresh toppings blanket the patty, such as crisp barite, tart olivine slices, and let’s not forget the nice added zing of wolframite!  All this is balanced on top of a freshly baked bun, make from a combination of hydrogen and lithium.  The coal burger can be dressed up with other condiments, such as mercury sauce, biodiesel paste, and even salt if desired!  Did Rat/chet like it? You bet he did!

2.      Stuffed Crepes: here we have a very sweet, very cinnamony and very tasty stuffed crepe dish.  It is stuffed with freshly picked crystal banana fruit slices, and a rich, creamy petroleum base.  And what flavor is this base?  Peanut butter of course- goes great with bananas!  Encompassing this sweet filling is a pancake, made from ground feldspar, ener-milk, and thickened glycerol, then fried in a pan with rich oil, resulting in a fluffy yet thin cake.  A drizzle of chocolate flavored boron sauce.  Did Rat/chet like it?  He simply devoured it!

3.      Cyber/tronian Sushi Platter: up next is a sushi platter, and what a selection of available foods! The main theme with this sushi is silicon rice flavored with vinegar. And of course, the raw energon from cyber-squid, cyber-fish, cyber-shrimp and cyber-eel.  Of course, there is a side of sushi rolls, consisting of silicon rice wrapped in seaweed with a center of cyber-tuna, soft-shell cyber-crab and cyber-salmon. Up next is a trio of more sushi rolls, made with imitation cyber-crab and tuna, wrapped in a petroleum-based crust. Did Rat/chet like it?  Eh…. He ate it but wasn’t a fan of raw foods.

4.      Cheesy bread: Up next is a simple bust scrumptious dish!  Freshly baked lithium bread loaded with several types of melted cheese, based with muscovite, sphalerite, and corundum, leaving a rich and flavorful taste. The bread is seasoned with freshly ground feldspar, chips of garnet, and flakes of mica.   Everything is served warm, and what is not to like about cheesy bread?  Did Ratc/het like it? Hell Yeah!

5.      Cereal. Who suggested this?  Of all the delicacies and fine, fancy foods, someone suggests this overly processed, sugary snack?  Here we have artificially dyed rings of coquina limestone and flavored to an exceptionally over-sweetened flavor.  What flavors you say? You can’t tell because it’s too many different flavors at once.  These rings are very hard and crunchy- almost have to let the energon soak into them to be able to eat them without breaking teeth! BUT don’t worry, you still have a shot at chipping a tooth, because this Cybert/ronian cereal now comes with an awesome ingredient: rocks!  Did Rat/chet like it? No.  It was too many flavors at once and it made his teeth hurt.

 Just how much more can that belly hold?  Hopefully we’ll find out!  Send in some food suggestions to keep our Medic happy and chill!  Let’s see how squishy we can get those thighs!  Let’s get him begging for a belly rub!

*If you suggested a dish and haven’t seen it- there’s still more coming. I am getting some very interesting foods- some can be more challenging to draw- so I try to pair up some harder dishes with some easier ones.  There’s several more rounds to go- and keep the selections coming!

­­­­

#siberatart #chubformers

[cravingbro]

Totebag

siblings drabbles au : 750 words — physical attacks, bunch of clingy interaction, love-hate relationship.

My hands were shaking but I had to do this for the sake of my organization. So, I approached my brother and sneaked around his arms while he was playing mobile game.

"What?" he asked, still focusing his entire soul on the game.

"I need your help to—"

"I'm busy."

"When will you ... not busy?"

"I don't know."

I sighed, not knowing what else I could do beside waiting. The only thing I can do at that time was just staring on his screen while he groaned and yelled the whole time. Strangely, he never kicked me out even though I might covered half of his screen. Instead, he placed his jaw on the top of my head.

"What task?" he asked another question. He is so used with helping me finish my task. That is why a templated-question came out. But I did not have any task to do at the moment, so I did not reply except with a slow head-shake. "Nothing, it's just that our event ... need a model for totebag promotion on social med—"

"I'll take your picture later. Two more games, okay?" He cut my words with his offering, which I responded immediately. "No no no. It's not me. We need a man to wear it, so that it's not just women who'll buy our stuff," I uttered. My brother paused his game in instant then glared at me sharp. "You're not going to use me for that, right?"

"Please?" I practically begged in tiny voice, while he yelled his disagreement out loud.

"They knew you look good on camera, so they ask me if I could—"

"Why the fuck did you— Geez ... I can't do it," he yelled while raising both hands up as a surrender signal. I embraced his abdomen tight then whispered, "Should we eat sushi for dinner?"

"It's not about food negotiation. It's a matter of my face—"

"Actually you can look down! Or cover your face with hands! Make it something like ... shy, naturally-handsome prince wearing a minimalist totebag ...," I shouted in excitement. He frozed all of sudden, realizing what a monkey-like his sister had become when she is desperate.

"Please, they will yell at me if I fail." I put on a gloomy face, but he just blew my face jokingly.

"Louder than your teacher?" he teased with a question. "Even louder than you," I replied, mimicking his face when he is mad. He pinched both of my cheeks and shook my head like a toy. Then he said, "Salmon sushi for dinner and it's a deal."

"Salmon?! Hell yeah, my money's limited!" I yelled back, yet he just laughed out loud as he hugged me tight.

"Tuna tuna tuna," he bargained. "Fresh tuna. Raw and uncooked," he added as he smiled.

"Alright," I whispered. He then lifted me up, threw me back to the sofa, and stood up. Right before he walked, I kicked his butt yet he catched my feet and pulled it until I fell from the sofa.

"What shirt do I need to wear?" he asked as he covered his face from my potential-smashes. I stood up while catching my breath. I almost went all-out but he was giving me a gloomy face.

"Can you just ... go shirtless? It might sell more," I joked. He hissed and rolled his eyes before he pointed a middle finger on me. Later, he grabbed my shoulders, swung me, then pushed me while shouted, "Get out from the house!"

We continued throwing jokes and teasing each other until the sudden-amateur photoshoot was done and the sun set three hours later. As I promised, we ordered tuna sushi and ate afterward. However while we eat, I could saw his phone screen clearly and I saw him literally changed his social media's profile picture using the photo we just took.

"The fuck, man," I murmured. He burst out laughed although his mouth were full of rice. "Since I looked as good as you said," he replied and gave me wink out of nowhere. I choked immediately as I threw a punch to his shoulder.

"Stop doing that! I'm not your marketplace for that silly wink," I yelled. He chuckled and could not stop for a while.

For fuck's sake, that evening, I actually felt great that the totebag photoshoot went well. But the fact that I needed my brother to get it done definitely boiled my blood to the max. What a narcissistic ass he had became. He could not stop zooming in every photos and adore himself. Ew.

#brother #buddie fic #fanfic #fic #jaehyun #jaehyun au #nct au #nct jaehyun #siblings au #short ficlet #siblings fic #au nct #au jaehyun

[jonasrev]

Something that remains strong that was that people still breed all kinds of children and they have all these idiots with all these problems instead of getting clean genetics material kind of happening and then some of us are kind of in the fucking drugs and Beijing shit fucking hell and assholes on fire and depressions galore and I’m sorry it’s like speak of China no …not to Laura but it could be to Laura

I trust that I can talk to her and kori to some degree.

Sometimes some of the girls are wearing fresh and it’s very hard to hide if you have a person with out boundaries know if you are a person without boundaries you sometimes can wear heavy costumes and sometimes it’s hard to know because people could pick on you know my old friend Kori and my feelings would be hurt because I think she’s a really cool chick and that was surprising for some people because they wanted us to hate each other for some reason but Corey with a K is a Virgo and that’s besides the point though she’s just I don’t know I mean she used to give me a ride home from work and she was really sweet to me so I I just generally thought she was pretty awesome and people hate that American men want so much to see us fight with each other and then say you know what Corey with a K you can have the Ani DiFranco money if you just hear Rebecca apart oh if you just hear her apart OK well you know I think Regina Spektor and all those other people have tried to do that right and now you guys just have all these kids doing this dumb shit meanwhile on the dark side of the moon right right and it’s not impressive what are you guys doing every kid knows that the music right now is garbage why is that because you know what guys do a lot less and then they say can’t we make the Asian people do more no you fuck holes go fuck yourselves oh Cory was with them yeah he was just a fish albacore tuna I didn’t mean to eat him for breakfast but I did I feel a little embarrassed about it yeah

The dark side of the Moon Cory I just have no fucking time for anybody I’m sorry I did not mean to do that I don’t know what took hold. it must’ve been Eva Rigney

[brendaaaa]

Tire Swings and Tuna Sandwiches (Max Mayfield x fem!Reader)

“I think...I think I’ll do it tomorrow,” she decided, making a note with her pencil.

“Tomorrow?” You ran your hands through your hair, exasperated. “But I was hoping to sleep in all day…” She snorted, “Geez, hon, I never said you had to come. Don’t be such a whiny-ass baby,” she said in ñ her typical overdoing-it fashion. “Woah woah woah, I’m not a baby!” You protested. “We’re starting high school this year, and if anything Steve says is true, we won’t get to sleep in at all. I want to get the z’s while I still can,” you explained. “Okay,” she shrugged. “Fine by me.”

“But!” You continued, “I’d rather spend the summer with my girlfriend.” Max’s lips puckered in a smile, “How sweet. Be at my house at six sharp tomorrow morning.” You grinned. You were a total sucker for your girlfriend and her drill-sergeant ways. She gave you a kiss on the cheek before grabbing her skateboard and heading for your bedroom window. “Don’t forget. 6 o’clock,” she reminded you as she clambered outside. “Bye love,” she blew you a kiss. “See ya,” you waved, and as soon as she was gone, you collapsed onto your bed, smiling. Such a sucker for Max. The next morning, your alarm clock called you up way too early, but you groaned and stumbled around anyways, getting ready for a day of work, keeping in mind you had Max to look forward to. You were running a bit late, and you biked as fast as you could to her place on Cherry street. She was waiting for you outside, sitting on her porch and eating a pop tart. You shivered slightly as you dismounted from your seat, it was a little bit cold outside, as it was still early morning. But the sun was just visible on the horizon line, and being mid-July, you knew it was going to get hot pretty quickly. “Hi,” you said, walking towards the house. Max nodded in greeting, finishing up the last few bites of her breakfast. “Billy’s gonna drive us to the junkyard. We’ll see if we can find a tire there.” “Oh,” you were slightly taken aback. “That’s...nice of him?” you weren’t really sure. Her stepbrother was the king asshole, and you weren’t quite sure of how to process the fact that he was giving his little stepsister and her girlfriend a ride somewhere. “Yep,” she nodded, popping the p in yep. “He offered, surprisingly. I think he’s trying to get some brownie points with my mom. I guess he thinks that she might spread the word to his dad that he’s being a good brother. I really have no idea,” she laughed.

“Hey!” You both turned to see Billy standing by his car. “You shits ready to go or what?”

“Yeah,” you both said in unison, walking across the lawn and squeezing into the passenger seat together. The car ride seemed to last a lot longer than you knew the drive actually was, what with Billy’s occasional awkward glances over at you two, and the fuzzy sound of the Dead Kennedys coming through the radio. Max kept shifting uncomfortably and the tension just got weirder when the car hit a pothole and you all flew up. Billy swore under his breath and swerved back into the correct lane.

You were relieved when he finally pulled into the junkyard, letting you and Max out. “You gonna walk home?” he asked, and Max affirmed that, saying thanks and shutting the car door. After he drove away, Max rubbed her hands together, looking around at all the options, and said “Let’s look for a tire!” You walked around together for a while, and once you thought that you found a keeper, but after flipping it over you realized that it was all crumbly on the bottom side. A couple hours passed, and seeing as you wanted to get home before lunchtime, you split up. Eventually it was Max that found the winner, hidden under an old refrigerator that had to be from the 1950’s. It was perfect, big enough for the both of you to fit in it together, and not too dirty or damaged. The real issue now was figuring out a way to get it back to Max’s house, because neither of you had quite thought that through before telling Billy not to come pick you guys up. Then you remembered that it was a tire, and tires were wheels, and you two flipped it up so that you could roll it home. It was hard work, and for the twenty five minute walk, you and Max took turns pushing it. You got some strange looks, two teen girls pushing a giant tire around, but you didn't really care. You weren’t goddamn Ms. Stacy Popular Albright, anyways. It was brutal especially as the sun rose higher in the sky, and the temperature rose. Hawkins got really hot in July, sitting at round 95 degrees as early as ten o’clock in the morning. It was no wonder really that Max wanted to get up so early. But, eventually, you both made it home, with the tire still in good shape. You guys on the other hand? Both soaked through with sweat and your hands were blackened by the ever so slightly melting rubber of the tire, but you were in good spirits. When you got to the house, you left the tire outside and went indoors, collapsing on her couch. Mrs. Mayfield made you some tuna sandwiches while you sat watching MTV and drinking coke, wishing her house had air conditioning. The various plug in fans around the room helped a little bit, but not as much as you would’ve liked. “Hey,” Max said suddenly, through a bite of sandwich, looking over at you, her face sunburned. “Hey,” you grinned at her, regretting your decision to sit criss-cross applesauce, as your legs were sticking together with sweat and it was gross. “Do you want to actually build the swing tomorrow?” she asked, grinning slightly. “You mean not have to go back out into that heat?” You raised an eyebrow, liking the sound of this. “Hell yeah!” “Sweet,” Max licked her lips and took a drink out of her can, gesturing to her face, “I don’t think this beautiful face deserves to get more skin cancer from the sun.” “Yeah,” you agreed, “you’re probably already guaranteed a fatal case of it because of all that sun you got in California.”

Max scoffed, “No I haven’t.” You smiled, “just teasing Max. Love you.” You went back to your sandwich, which was amazing. Mrs. Mayfield bought the best tuna, from this little deli that your family refused to buy from. They got fresh shipments from the coast and with Max’s mom's recipe, it was more or less gourmet. You didn’t even notice you had said it. In your head you were told Max that you loved her all the time. You ran through scenarios. You thought to yourself, god, how I love that girl. You were so consumed eating your lunch, you didn’t notice Max’s shocked expression. She was frozen, cheeks pinker than they already were. She thought it was slightly concerning that you had so little external reaction to the huge thing you just said aloud, but she also found that sorta cute.

So she leaned over, gently touching your chin, and tilted your head to face her, where she pressed a kiss to your lips. “I love you too,” she smiled.

Wait what? I love you too? You thought. Did I? Oh shit...

Word Count: 1268

#max mayfield #max mayfield x reader #max mayfield imagine #stranger things #mad max #maxine mayfield #wlw concepts #gay gals #summer loving #imagine

[yandere-wishes]

A Story Told In Maybes  {Part #1}

🗡️Yandere! Enma Yuuken x reader

🗡️Summary: Enma Yuuken lives on the fine line between "Hero" and "Villain" but his story will never end in a "happily ever after" or a "tragically ever after" it will only end in Maybe...

🗡 Edited by the amazing @tealyjade-libran

🗡️ Alternative title: How many times can Genie use "Damn" in a story...

Maybe in some other world, they could have been lovers

Imagine that...

picture it as vividly as a fresh stab wound to your heart. Sketch the vision of a red waterfall carrying away your life. 

Now picture two people. A young man and woman, sitting on a park bench, holding hands and laughing, inching closer and closer. 

Imagine love, happiness, tranquility...

But those things only exist in fairy tales. And his life was most certainly not a fairy tale. 

They were foreigners, outsiders, aliens. Banished into a strange land were twisted fairy tales, roamed the earth. Where magic and mischief came as naturally to the inhabitants as breathing. Where nothing mattered, because nothing was. Everything is and thus it isn't. Nothing made sense, and sometimes, in some rare moments of stolen repose, Enma Yuuken was scared that nothing would ever make sense again. 

All of it, every microscopic thing about this 'new world' was wrong, abnormal, twisted. 

Everything except his traveling companion. Another lost soul as disjointed and out of place as he was. Another ghost trying to survive in this matrix of a so-called reality. 

There was no shock initially, no surprise in not being the only normal creature to be transported to this bizarre world. Enma knew full well that he wasn't special in any way. Another foreigner being here was one of the few things that actually made sense. 

But as the old expression goes, everything comes at a price. 

Someone else just like him being here, being stuck in this nightmare, made sense. Yet the price of logic was a thread of hysteria that had woven itself deep within his battered heart. A maddening sense that gripped his lungs, robbing them of breath. That picked off pieces from his tattered mind, replacing them with clear cutout thoughts of her. It was always only her.

His companion in this broken world just had to be you. A frail, naïve little girl with no sense about her. Some pretty-girl protagonist straight out of the pages of Shojo Beats. The kind of girl who finds her happily ever after no matter where the hell she is. 

Yet he did not have that luxury, his life was dictated by a series of maybes and could bes. He was a secondary character at best, a background shadow at worst. With no purpose other than smiling and waving. And listening to the protagonist weep about their love-driven woes.

Some days, when the dreary bell chimed for the last time, when the students marched back to the solitude of their dorms, Enma would wander around the halls, squirming in his own misery. Pondering why, oh why of all the people, in all the towns, in all the worlds, did you have to be the one to wind up in this grim land along with him. 

Why fate always had to be so cruel, so domineering, thinking it knew better than the people whose miserable lives it toyed with. He wanted to be your lover, your prince, yours. But what would a guy, who doesn’t even belong in this backward world, have to offer some heroine-type sweetheart? 

🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️

The Ramshackle’s flickering porch light glows in the distance. Like a dying star beckoning him to a destroyed paradise. He knows what's waiting for him behind the worn door. He knows you'll be there standing by the cracked dinner table, laying out days-old sandwiches for dinner, while Grimm rangles with an expired can of tuna. He knows you'll smile with tears in your doe-like eyes as you retell the fables of your endeavors. Telling him in great detail how the so-called king of beasts overpowered you in the school garden. How the King of poisons stole yet another kiss. The tales go on and on. Never-ending, never stopping, never giving him the chance to scavenge the fragments of his shattered heart.

You play your role so damn well. You know how to be the damsel in distress, the poor thing in need of saving. It's repulsive, disgusting...but only because he doesn't know how to be the hero that you need. 

If he was being honest -something he rarely did nowadays- Those "prefects" were the root of all his problems. They were the evil that made this dark world an endless horror. They'd been the ones to drive him into the "caring older brother" role. They had twisted his hand, leading him to the role of the "side-hero" like a lamb to the slaughter. Made him into a prince charming in a world that ate princes alive and spat them out once more. 

They had sealed his fate with a few insults and loaded threats. With just a few longing stares overflowing with lust and envy. They were villains, in a world that celebrated sinners. A world that cheered when the dragon steals the princess and rejoices when the evil king sits upon his skeleton throne. They were villains in every dreadful sense of the damn word. 

It's hard to be in love when all odds are against you. 

When your fate binds you into one role with no way out.

Like a rabbit hole made of quicksand. It dragged him deeper and deeper into intimate madness.

Maybe in some fair world, those leeching villains could keep their greedy blood-drenched hands off of you.

Maybe in a world where the sun never dies, you could bring yourself to love him.

Maybe he could have been the love interest, maybe, maybe, maybe.

It's always only MAYBE!

🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️

"Welcome home Nii-san," 

It's a sweet greeting that ties his guts into ribbons. His hands grow damp as his heavy eyes stare into yours. His lips curl into a painted smile, shielding you from the pain that's clawing in his stomach.

"Hi..(Y/n)"

His voice cracks and croaks like a dying frog. His lips feel abnormally dry and his eyes sting as if they've been pierced by diamond daggers. His steps are heavy as he plops down in his seat. The weight of his worries pulled him down harder than gravity ever could. He watches you through tried, restless orbs. Watches as you waltz over to your seat and sit down with the half grace of some future queen to be. It's bitter, dreadful, leaving a sickly toxin-like taste in his mouth. The mere thought that someday one of those, sinners, will take your hand and drag you to some kingdom far far away makes Enma want to claw his brain out with his bare nails. 

Enma's focus shifts over from his traveling companion to the silver-coated fireball licking his paws. Grimm's teal eyes scan him nervously before he offers a nervous smile, a rarity for the narcissistic cat. He's usually so talkative, so boasting, there was never a moment of tranquility with that cat around...

It takes a moment. A steel coated moment before the gears in Enma's head begin to turn. Before he can place his finger on the heavy abnormality weighing down the atmosphere. His nerves jolt to life, leaving a freezing sweat behind their trail. The room is spinning like a ballroom floor. Something's off, something big and obvious and hidden and...

Maybe...

"So..."

It's your sweet voice that breaks the tension creeping into the air. Melodic and luscious just like the sensation of a blissful dream. The room freezes in its tracks. The heavy atmosphere melts away like a cube of ice. Normality has one foot through the door. Behind it, hope and tranquility peek their heads through the tiny gap.

 Maybe just maybe everything is alright. Maybe it's just him, his stress and anxiety are starting to play cruel jokes on his wonder mind. Maybe he's just going mad. Yeah, that's the sanest conclusion to draw from all this. 

Enma cranes his neck to the side to get a better view of your face. Distress is scribbled all over your skin, like pristine razor cuts. You shift around in your seat, clawing at your uniform skirt as if the midnight black fabric is cutting off your circulation. Your fingers nudge the entrance to your pocket fiddling with something he can't quite make out. 

His voice is low, shaky, as he replies. The unusualness of the situation has him on edge. Nervous to the bitter bone. Maybe he was wrong, maybe his nerves were right to be wary of whatever this was. This uncertainty permeated the air-tight room. 

"What is it?" 

Slowly you drag out a white envelope flooded seven times over from your pocket. You stretch out your hand placing it in between his fingers. Enma throws a passive look at the note, his nose wrinkled up at the familiar scent that pervaded from the paper. 

"What's this?" 

It was rhetorical, asked out of dull, morbid courtesy. This time he didn't bother looking at you, in fear of seeing you look -lord forbids- gleeful. 

"A love letter, Grimm found it in our locker after class." 

There was a pause, lengthy, nerve-wracking, heart wrenching. Yuuken could hear the way your breath hitched in your throat, he could almost feel the excitement radiate off your body. 

"Can you believe it Nii-san? Someone actually left me a love letter!"

It hurt it really did, this time his heart didn't shatter. It simply broke, in two or three or maybe four. Who knows, who cares.  They had escalated from simple harassment and unsightly displays of public affection to leaving you love letters. How ungodly, how absurd, how brave...

He laments, eyes tracing over the fog of his breath as it wafts through the musty room. He wants to rip that damned piece of paper, shred it into millions so the words become ineligible, so you'll never read those horrible words again. So you'll forget that some damn fool other than him can actually love you. But he doesn't, he has too much self restraint and too much respect for his dear "little sister" to actually do it. 

His arm stretches over the table, skin illuminated by the dying candle on the center. He places the letter back safely in between your fingers. His eyes meet yours for only the second time that night. He takes in your face, Committing every piece of it to his miserable memory. The heartily glow in your crystal eyes, the faint schoolgirl smile dancing across your lips, the rose blush kissing your cheeks, the way the candle illuminates your skin, wrapping in a sparkling glow like the princess from those tales of old. You're mesmerizing in every way, it would be reasonable for other men to notice your elegance. No wonder those "prefects" were drawn to you so naturally like moths to a golden flame. 

"Who sent it?" 

His voice comes out like a block of ice, shielding away any and all his stray emotions. He doesn't want to know how doleful he is, he just can't have you taking pity on him. 

Your smile fades ever so slightly, your brows draw closer. Confusion is etched on your face. You haven't got a clue. 

"Well...I'm not sure, but they did say to meet them at the school gates when the clock chimes twelve."

Oh, joy, another fairy tale reference. It's comedic how fairy tales have begun to dictate his life. Everywhere he turns there's a grim tale awaiting him. Yuuken spares a quick glance at the crooked clock hanging by a loose thread. It’s a minute to midnight. 

"I should come with you" 

It's not a request but you take it as so. 

"No need to bother, I'll take Grimm, he could use the walk. He's starting to bulk up a bit"

"HEY! The great Grimm-Sama doesn't "Bulk up" He only gets more powerful!" 

Before the older male can protest, you're already halfway out the door. Grimm scurrying to follow you on all fours like a pesky rat. The door slams on your way out, leaving Yuuken alone with his morbid screeching thoughts. 

There goes the only good thing in his life. Into the arms of another. 

For a second he contemplates leaving you to fate, after all, who's he to disobey fate, go against whoever orchestrates this universe. But it's only a second, short lived and quickly died. 

Maybe he's a hero.

Maybe he's a Prince Charming.

Maybe he's a villain.

Maybe he's just some honorary older brother looking out for his kid sister.

Maybe, just maybe, he's your future lover;

and he'll be damned if he lets you slip out of hands. 

Enma's quick to grab his old practice blade from the overstuffed closet. It's not much, but it's all he has from the normal world, from his world. 

The door grates for the last time that night as he steps out into the cold midnight air. The stars blink in some sort of secret tongue, either warning him or encouraging him, he doesn't know. Nor does he truly care, for Enma Yuuken is done letting life and fate and villains decree his meaningless life. Here and now that's where he'll make his stand, he'll save you. Kiss you. Love you. Marry you. You, You, YOU

But there's still one nagging thought that screams inside his head as he dashes for the school gates. This world worships villains, prays at their feet, and hands them death and destruction on golden plates. And he's no villains, he's some sort of upside-down, in-between. Rotting alone in the border between Hero and Villain. By law of society, he's a reject, a useless foreigner, an alien, an outsider. 

and MAYBE he's already too late...

Who wrote the love letter? Was it the head of the savanaclaw dorm or maybe the head of the heartslabyul dorm ? Maybe it’s the ever mysterious  Tsunotarou... 

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #enma yuuken #enma yuuken x reader #yandere enma yuuken #yandere x reader #yandere x you #twisted wonderland x you #twisted wonderland enma yuuken x reader #twisted wonderland enma yuuken #twisted wonderland enma yuuken x you #enma yuuken x you #yandere enma yuuken x you #yandere #yancore #yanderecore #yandere imagines #Yandere aesthetic #yandere scenerios #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twst #twst x reader #yandere twst x reader #twst yuu #yandere twst x you #twst

[barrysjumpsuit]

our little family - rafe cameron x barry

summary: while cleaning up after a storm, rafe and barry find a kitten, which barry insists they keep 

wc: 1.3k

warnings: drug use, profanity, soft barry, usual rarry stuff

a/n: pure unedited fluff

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

The most recent storm had been a big one.

The screened-in porch attached to Barry’s trailer was no match for it, nor were the tarps they had pinned up. Water had seeped into the ratty old carpet, and all the chairs left outside had been blown over. Thunder shook the building, Rafe unable to sleep despite Barry’s arm slung over him during the night. His boyfriend stirred early to find Rafe reading a book that laid on the nightstand in the dim light from the battery-powered push light above the bed.

“You better’ve not lost my spot, Cameron,” Barry murmured, tightening his grip on Rafe.

“I would never,” Rafe scoffed, flipping the book to show Barry’s bookmark – an old Dollar General receipt – sticking out from the middle of the book.

“Couldn’t sleep? Barry asked, his voice still tired. Rafe looked down at him; his hair was messy, his face still squished against the pillow, gazing up at Rafe with a small smile.

Rafe just shrugged, putting the book down. “It’s a lot louder here than at Tannyhill.”

He almost said home, but realized that Tannyhill never really felt like home. Home was here, in a torn-apart trailer that in all honesty should be condemned.

Damn, who would have seen that coming.

After laying in bed together for another half hour, Barry pushed himself up, rolling over to push aside the curtains to peek outside. Rafe had gotten up at the first light, looking outside to survey the damage before returning to bed. “It’s a mess outside,” he told Barry quietly.

“You got any plans today?” Barry grunted, flopping back down beside Rafe, who just shook his head. “Good, cuz I think we got some work to do today, cleaning up n shit.”

Rafe nodded, leaning down to kiss Barry’s forehead before they both got up.

“Fuckin’ hate this shit, man,” Barry grumbled as his bare feet hit the wet carpet. He pulled down the tarps to reveal the carnage that awaited them in the yard. Luckily, the sandy soil had meant that there weren’t any puddles or standing water (outside of inside the trailer, of course), but the wind had done most of the damage.

Their bikes had been spared in the makeshift “garage” they made, somehow still upright. Rafe followed Barry into the yard and he began cleaning up the trash and mess of outdoor furniture while Barry checked on his boat.

Once Barry was satisfied, he came to help Rafe move the old couch that sat outside beside the trailer to where it would get some sun and hopefully dry off before it was beyond saving. Barry pulled the cushions off, tossing them into the yard, before they each took a side.

With a slight grunt, they lifted the couch, shuffling to move it. Once they started moving it, a small orange shape darted out from underneath the couch and disappeared through a hole below the trailer.

“The fuck was that?” Rafe asked, as Barry dropped his side of the couch.

“You ain’t ever seen a cat before, homie?” Barry asked, dropping to his knees and then stomach to look underneath the trailer. “You got a flashlight?”

Rafe pulled out his phone, but it was dead. He went into the trailer and grabbed a flashlight that lived on the kitchen counter; he went back outside, handing it to Barry, who used it to look under the trailer. “Hey, lil guy.”

“You’re worried about a cat?” Rafe asked, squatting down beside Barry.

“Hell yeah I’m worried about a cat, you see them mice inside?” Barry grunted, crawling to stick as much of his body inside the hole as possible. Rafe could hear him talking to the cat, his words muffled before he called out louder. “Rafe, can you pull away this siding?”

Rolling his eyes, Rafe did as he was told, pulling back the flimsy siding. Barry immediately wriggled inside, just his bare feet sticking out.

“C’mere, little bastard,” Barry called in a sing-songy voice, and Rafe couldn’t help but laugh. “Shut your trap, country club,” his boyfriend shot back. “This guy’ll be more useful than you when it comes to the mice.”

“What do you mean?” Rafe whined, peering inside. He could see the kitten hunched defensively a few feet from Barry’s outstretched hand.

“Because you never check the traps!” Barry’s flashlight was in his mouth now, pinched between his teeth. “Come here, buddy.”

The cat – it was small, so it must be a kitten – took a hesitant step towards Barry’s outstretched hand. It looked scrappy and was soaking wet. It took another step, and then another, until Barry’s hand darted out to catch the kitten by the scruff of its neck.

Barry hauled it out, the kitten wailing pitifully, sitting upright after he wriggled back outside. The kitten scrabbled at the air with its little paws. “Go get a towel.”

“What am I, your bitch?” Rafe asked sarcastically.

“Uh, yeah. I thought we’ve been over that.” Rafe rolled his eyes while Barry held the kitten out towards him. “You wanna hold this thing instead?”

Obliging with a sigh, Rafe went back into the trailer and pulled out an old towel, returning to Barry who was talking to the kitten in a soothing voice.

“Why don’t you talk to me like that?” Rafe muttered, holding the towel out to Barry. The kitten squealed as Barry wrapped it up in the towel, vigorously drying it orange fur.

Barry spent the rest of the morning infatuated with the kitten. He took it inside, opening a can of tuna and putting it on a slightly damp paper plate. After some hesitation, the kitten took ravenous bites, before jumping up onto the couch, curling up, and falling asleep.

“Ridiculous,” Rafe muttered, sitting cross-legged at the coffee table, a fresh line in front of him while Barry gently ran his fingers over the kitten’s fur.

“What should we name it?” Barry asked, ignoring Rafe’s attitude.

“Well, is it a boy or a girl?” Rafe asked, and Barry just shrugged. “We keepin’ this thing?”

Barry scoffed, rolling his eyes. “You really are dumb, aren’t you?” he retorted, looking at Rafe. “He’s part of our little family now, whether you like it or not.”

Rafe was taken aback by Barry’s words. Our little family, he said. When he put it like that, Rafe knew he had to be on board with the kitten.

“Uh… Coors? Miller? Budweiser?”

“You’re shittin me, country club.”

“I don’t know!” Rafe protested. “I’ve never had a pet.”

“Nah? No purse dogs in the Cameron house?” Barry asked. Rafe stood with a grunt and went to sit beside Barry; the cat was taking up a whole cushion, so he crammed in next to his boyfriend, his body pressed against his. Barry snaked an arm around his waist. “What about… Socks?”

“You’re shitting me,” Rafe said, using Barry’s own words against him. “Socks?”

“Look, he’s got little white socks!” Barry exclaimed, pointing at the kitten’s four white feet.

It did fit, and when Rafe looked at Barry looking at the damn kitten with that much affection in his eyes, he couldn’t help but not smile.

Leaning to rest his chin on Barry’s shoulders, Rafe reached out to gently pet the kitten. It let out a small chirp and moved under his touch, stretching before curling into an even tighter ball.

Rafe murmured, close to Barry’s ear, his lips tickled by his hair. “Socks it is.”

---

tagging barry’s baddies @starkey-babie @hartigays @pxisonoak @maybanksslut @seap1geon @bigdrewenergy

#please lmk if you wanna be on any taglists!!!! #rarry #rafebarry #rafebarry fanfic #rarry fanfic #barry obx #rafe cameron #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron fanfiction #obx #outer banks #obx fanfic #obx fanfiction #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks fanfic

[chaeiimimi]

06 𝓑𝓪𝓫𝔂 𝓟𝓪𝓷𝓲𝓬!

Synopsis: Sakusa Kiyoomi, a young ravishing man, an athlete for the Japanese volleyball team and comes from a very prominent family around Japan. He was perfect, looks, wealth and fame. But you can’t have everything in life, can you? Sakusa, the germophobic athlete, suddenly wakes up one day and sees a baby boy in a basket in front of his door step, in the basket was a letter, a letter from his past lover, saying that the child was his. The panic look on the spiker’s face was almost comical, knowing that his life would turn into a complete 360, that day was his first time ever to miss a volleyball practice and to call Komori to ask for a babysitter. You.

Notice: the only thing I own is the plot, the art and the characters aren't mine and they all belong to their respective owners.

Safe to say you didn’t get as much sleep as you hoped that night

“eh?” you were shocked, you didn’t expect him to do it so soon

“yeah, they work from home tomorrow, we should pay them a visit”

“we?” you were flabbergasted, you? You’re meeting the elite and respected Sakusa Family?

“yeah, do you have any problems with that?” yes, a lot

“n-no sir”

So now you left a note on the kitchen counter saying you are going to the market to get some ingredients for the dish you were going to cook for Sakusa’s parents

Since you were young, your parents always taught you that you cannot visit a home empty handed, it was proper courtesy and showed respect and appreciation for having you in their home.

You strolled along the market looking at fresh produce, you opted for seafood, since it’s healthier for older people

A huge salmon caught your eyes and miso-zuke salmon immediately popped in your head, you looked at your watch, it was only five in the morning, you can let it marinate for how many hours and grill it for 30 minutes, which will be enough time to bring it for lunch

You bought it from the vendor who was very kind and even gave you a discount, after that you went to a bakery supplies to get some carrot décor and some ingredients to make icing, you were planning to make a cake less sweet so Sakusa’s parents can eat as well

With that, you head home

You saw Sakusa seating by the coffee table, sipping coffee and reviewing the forms you filled out

“good morning sir” you say as you take the things you bought to the kitchen

“we really don’t need to bring them anything you know” he says as, eyes still not leaving the papers

“I know, but my parents always tell me to not visit anyone’s house empty-handed, it’s a sign of courtesy”

He just nodded and said “suit yourself”

You begin making the marinade, thankfully the fish vendor was kind enough to slice the salmon up for you

About half way through you heard Kaito’s cry and you were about to wipe your hands to get to him when Sakusa stood up

“I got him, continue your work”

You nodded and did exactly that, it took fifteen minutes to make the marinade, you soaked the salmon in it , coverd it, and put in inside the freezer

Sakusa went out with a calm Kaito, he sat in the coffee table , his son carefully cradled in his one arm as his other hand held the forms he hasn’t reviewed yet

Looks like he got the hang of carrying Kaito you said inside your head as you smiled to yourself

You slowly mixed the ingredients together not noticing that Sakusa was now behind you

“what are you doing?” you flinched , surprised by your boss sudden speaking

“I’m making a cake sir” you said holding your chest

It wasn’t clear, heck if you didn’t spend your three months with him you wouldn’t have noticed the small smile grazing his lips

And you regret noticing because you were now flustered

You cleared your throat

“where’s Kaito?” you asked, focusing your attention back to your task

“he’s sleeping” he answered

Your mouth formed into an ‘o’

“is it normal for babies to sleep so much” he asked, his voice genuinely concern

You chuckled  “apparently, it is sir, sleep is actually healthy for baby, aside from them having small stomach and get full easily, their tiredness can also be the cause of a growth spurt or developmental leap” you say in as-a-matter-of-fact tone

He nods as he watches you pour the mixture to a cake mold, which he didn’t even know he had

“does your parents like cake sir?” you asked as you put the dough into the oven

“my mom eats it occasionally, my dad is a sucker for it, we try to make him cut it out for a bit, it’s bad for his health”

You nod, Sakusa has been a bit talkative since your talk last night

“in that case, I’ll make the buttercream frosting less sweet” you say as you washed your hands to prepare to make the frosting

Sakusa watched you as you make the frosting, a lot of thoughts inside his head

“is she doing this to impress my parents?”

“why would she want to impress my parents?”

“does she likes-“

Sakusa shook his head profusely muttering small no’s you were just nice and polite, yea, that’s it

He cleared his throat and went to the coffee table, he finished reviewing the forms you filled out and all of them were perfect, he opened his desktop and began with his work at the company again

The timer went off and it was time to take the cake out of the oven

Kaito was awake and mindlessly babbling in his crib while Sakusa watched replays of some volleyball games

You set the cake on a cooling rack to let it cool down for a while

You decided to clean the house while waiting for the cake to cool down

you wiped some shelves, throw out the trash and vacuumed, by the time you were finished cleaning , the cake was already cool, you begin frosting it, putting crushed nuts at the side of the cake and decorating the top of the cake with candy carrots and some edible decorative leaves, you slowly put it in the fridge

you sighed

“you need to rest” Sakusa says as he gets himself some water

You looked at the time and it was already 10

You shook your head “I just need to grill the salmon sir” and so you did grill the tuna for thirty minutes, gave Kaito a bath for twenty minutes, showered and changed yourself into a simple sundress

By the time you were done packing everything it was already 11:30

You and Sakusa made your way to his car, Kaito was in his baby seat and his father placed him on the back seat, you were about to seat beside Kaito when he cleared his throat

“won’t I look like a personal driver if the both of you sat there?”

You immediately got up and sat at the shotgun seat

The ride was quiet, it was a comfortable silence though, Kaito’s occasional babbles while you were still amazed by the rich neighborhood and Sakusa’s eyes are focused on the road

You arrived at his paren’ts place in fifteen minutes and you could hear the voices of people from afar

You entered the house-no, this was a freaking castle, it was huge, there was a guard, some gardeners and maids

Sakusa parked his car, you got out, he carried Kaito’s baby seat which had a handle while you carried the cake and the salmon-sizu

You walked to the backyard where you saw some children, you recognize some of them as Sakusa’s older siblings’ children, they looked like they were having an outdoor barbecue by their pool-side

Sakusa cleared his throat

They all stopped dead in their tracks eyes wide open

Sakusa glared at them “geez you guys don’t need to act like you saw a ghost”

“well what do you expect you barely visit us here?!” you assumed that it was his brother you spoke

His mother and father looked at you, and you felt very small

“woah and you- you- holy crap your married?!”

And with just one sentence there was a fiasco

“Uncle Kiyoomi is married? We have a new aunt?” a kid who was about nine said and rushed towards new but his sisters were already all up on you

“woah when did you guys get married?”

“when did you meet?”

“what company does your family own?”

“your dress looks so good?”

“do you like chanel?”

You were overwhelmed and couldn’t talk

Your boss sighed “she’s not my wife, she’s my son’s nanny and househelper”

They stopped on their tracks, as you stood there and smiled awkwardly

“but you’re too pretty to be a nanny!”

One of his nieces explained

“you have a son?!” Sakusa’s brother exclaimed

“I know right” Sakusa says nonchalantly

Sakusa was a calm compared to his very lively family

“you impregnated your househelper?” Sakusa’s father asked confused

Your eyes widened and you shook your head profusely

“it’s Nami’s” Sakusa sighed and handed his parents a letter, his brother and two sisters stood beside their parents to read the letter as well

They were dumbfounded when they finished reading, you can’t blame them, you had the same reaction when you first read that letter as well

“what a cruel woman…” Sakusa’s mother says, it seems like she was the first one to recover

Sakusa looked at his son who was looking up at him while sucking on his pacifier

“I don’t need her to raise my son” Sakusa says sternly, his family members looked at him

Sakusa took Kaito in his arms “everyone, this is Sakusa Kaito, my son” he says while Kaito babbles and cracked a toothless smile

There was a moment of silence

When...

 “Oh my lord! what a handsome baby!” Sakusa’s mother gushed and approached Sakusa and took Kaito from him

“holy hell bro he looks just like you!” his brother also says, as he pinch Kaito’s cheeks

“I want him to model for my baby line AAAHHHHH” his sister, which you assumed to be Aiko Sakusa a famous fashion designer

Sakusa Kairo the eldest among the siblings, a pilot and owns an airlines company

Akemi, the third child, a famous architect, she owns an architectural firm

And Sakusa Kiyoomi the youngest, Athlete-Entrepreneur manages a chain of hotels and restaurants

And of course Sakusa Arisa and Sakusa Katashi, the founder of Sakusa Empire

These people are one of the most influential family in japan, yet when you looked at them they look quite normal

Sakusa looked kind of distant, but you could see the softness in his features as he stares at his son being cradled and passed around by his family members

You did notice that his father was emotionlessly staring at the scene

“Kiyoomi you haven’t introduce your “helper” to us yet” Akemi says teasingly

Sakusa shook his head

“this is Y/N she’s Komori’s friend , she helps around my house and takes care of Kaito” he says as stood beside you

The whole family except for Komori’s dad looked at you with almost teary eyes

“thank you for dealing with our ill-mannered kiyoomi” his mother says

“You’re too pretty to be a nanny though, if you ever consider modeling come to me” Aiko says as she held both of your hands

You bowed to them politely “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Sir Kiyoomi is a good boss to me” you said, feeling all stiff and awkward

“chill out Y/N-san we don’t bite” Kairo chuckled

You nodded awkwardly, Sakusa nudged you and pointed at the items you were holding

“oh, we bought you some salmon-sizu and carrot cake, I hope you like it” you said as you showed them the things you bought

“Y/N-chan I love you already” Akemi says as she took the carrot cake from you and led you to the table

 In no time the family were all eating and having fun, you had Kaito in your arms and was feeding him

“Y/n dear, this salmon and cake are so delicious, where did you buy them?”

You quickly realized that your boss’ mother was a sweet lady

“oh, I made them ma’am, my mother is a baker, it’s her recipe, I tweaked it a bit for it to make it less quick, my father is a fish broker, he told me that salmon is a healthy fish to serve” you smiled at her

“Y/N-chan you’re too kind, I hope my brother isn’t being a jerk to you” Aiko says as she eats cake

You chuckled at them

“Y/N-chan, how is our Kiyoomi?” Akemi asked

“Sir Sakusa is doing fine I think, he’s just a bit tired from volleyball and the company, he also makes time for Kaito whenever he can, he’s still a little bit confuse and clumsy”

Kairo, Akemi, Aiko and Mrs. Sakusa nodded together

“Y/N-chan do you like Kiyoomi?” Aiko asked which made you flustered

“I-I- yes-yes b-but- as a boss- I like him as a person-like a boss-“

“geez no need to get flustered now, we were only asking” Kairo said as he chuckled

“we don’t mind if you like him though, we’ll be delighted to have you here” Akemi says and smiled at you

You were now as red as a tomato

After the conversation, you were left with Kaito, he was now wide awake and you were playing with him

Only then did you noticed Sakusa’s father staring at you two

You cleared your throat, you got up, carrying Kaito, you cleaned up the plates near Sakusa’s father

Kaito pointed at his grandfather

You quietly approached the man

“sir, do you want to hold him?”  you asked

He looks up at you, you smiled at him and slowly sat Kaito on his lap

He looks at Kaito emotionlessly, when Kaito smiled at him and babbles “babababa!”

For the first time today, you saw a soft smile made its way to Sakusa’s father’s face

“he looks just like him” the elderly man mumbles

“I can see that sir” you smiled softly at them, slowly taking out your phone and quietly took a picture of the scene, not knowing that some of the eyes of the family were on you

 “she’s a good woman” Sakusa’s mother says to his son

“she is” Kiyoomi says as he stares at you, having a small conversation with his father, it’s very rare for him to communicate or interact with people other than business matters, but he doesn’t seem to have any trouble conversing with you

“do you like her Kiyo?” his mother asks teasingly

“mom, no” Kiyoomi sighs and takes a sip of his lemonade

Although his parents were mostly absent during his childhood, him and his siblings maintained a close relationship with them, and both his mother and father always made time for them on the weekends

A lot of people assumed that they were like the rich family from dramas, the tension and stuff but it was far from that, they were pretty normal, and chaotic at times

 “Your salmon-sizu was very good” your boss’ dad says as you took Kaito from him, the baby has already fallen asleep

“thank you sir, it was my dad’s recipe, he says it’s good for your health” you smiled as you cradled Kaito

He smiled and got up from his seat to join the rest of his family, you laid Kaito on his baby seat and wiped the sweat off his forehead

 The rest of the day were spent with you helping the maids with grilling, but Aiko quickly swooped in and wanted you to join the party, so there you were surrounded by your boss’ nieces and nephews

“you’re not uncle Kiyo’s girlfriend?” Arata, who was around seven years old asked you, he was Kairo’s son

You chuckled and shook your head

“but I want you to be my aunt, aunt y/n” Chizu who was Aiko’s daughter, said with pleading eyes

You just chuckled at them and diverted their attention to something else, you told them stories your parents and sister used to tell you when you were young, their eyes sparkled with fascination, even Mika and Eichi who were both teenagers were interested in your stories as well that they tore their eyes off of their phone screens

Later in the night you guys played uno, you taught them the basics, these kids didn’t know anything about games outside their phones

You couldn’t really relate to the adult’s conversation since they were talking about businesses so you hang out with the kids, and you were loving every moment of it, despite being born from rich families, they were really nice and humble, Eichi was very similar to his grandfather and his Uncle KIyoomi but he was polite nonetheless

It was finally time to leave, the kids were tired and the same to the adults

“come visit us soon aunt y/n” Mira says sleepily she was Akemi’s only child

You smiled at them and waved

“you better come back Y/N-chan we want another one of your carrot cake” Aiko says as you bowed to them

“dear, if ever Kiyo fires you, you are free to apply at our house” says Kiyoomi’s mother says as you leave

Your boss sighs as you finally entered his car

“they really like you” he mumbles

“I guess they do?” you chuckled

“hey y/n, thank you”

You tilt your head in confusion “for what sir?”

“just, thank you”

Taglist: @meri-soni-meri-tamanna @seashellmichellee @tetsuhoes @akaashislovelywife  @strawberryzos  @kuroohoeee @underratedmage @popping-cherries @uwu-iwanttodie @wonhyuksstuff @  @knmsapplepi    @stormcastello @si-m-p

#haikyuu x reader #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #haikyuu x y/n #sakusa x reader #sakusa kiyoomi

[noladyme]

La Cuervo - Chapter 22

She is used to the biker-life, having grown into a woman in the familiar embrace of SAMCRO. A bad decision and a gun-shot later, she gets whisked off to Santo Padre, and put under the protection of another club. What is supposed to be a short stint in the Mayan headquarters just north of the border to Mexico, turns into something more; when la quervo begins to develop feelings for el angel - and he seems to return them in kind...

TW: violence, blood, drug use, alcohol, smut, fluff, angst

In the spirit of "The Crown Princess of Charming", this is a story about O.C. Nina and Angel Reyes. It is obviously non-canon, as characters who have passed on, on Mayans M.C., are present in it, and others have been excluded completely. Nina is written as a cis-female, but I have tried to keep her race and looks as ambiguous as possible. Should you find any of this story offensive, please let me know.

22.

They didn’t speak much in the morning. For once, Angel had decided to set an alarm, and more or less jumped out of bed, the moment his phone began buzzing. His mind seemed as focused as professional soldier’s; and he made even the actual veteran – Coco – seem relaxed in comparison. It had rained during the night, and the air smelled fresh; but didn’t lighten Nina’s mood, as she sat smoking a cigarette on the porch, while the two men packed up Coco’s extra guns. EZ showed up in the van, with Letty and Gaby in the passenger seats. Angel helped Nina in to the seat Letty had previously occupied. The teenager got on her dad’s bike with him, before they all began driving down the street.

Gaby looked worriedly at Nina, as she sat between EZ and her. “Are you alright?”, she asked quietly. “Ezekiel told me what happened…”. “I’m… I don’t know”, Nina muttered. She cleared her throat, wanting to think about anything else than the pain currently surging in her leg. “Are youok? Have you gone on lockdown before?”. “No”, Gabriella said. “This is all very new to me”. “How do they do it up north?”, EZ asked Nina. “I don’t think it’s different than here”, Nina said. EZ frowned, making her question his experience with situations like this as well. “You’ve never done this before either, have you…?”. “No…”, EZ admitted. “It’s never been necessary”. “It’ll be fine”, Nina said, trying to convince herself as well as the two lockdown debutants. “We just have to keep our heads low, and the gates locked… Is your pap’ coming?”. “He says he can protect himself…”, EZ muttered. “But he’ll be by later with the meat he was bringing for the party anyway”. “I’ll try to get him to stay”, Nina said. EZ gave her a thankful smile.

When they arrived at Angel’s place – her place, as Nina reminded herself – the others waited by the vehicles, while she and Angel went inside to gather what they needed. Nina hobbled through the living room, as Angel began closing the windows, after the exterminator visit. Once in the bedroom, Nina began packing some clothes and essentials. She went to get her gun, but remembered that Camille had used it; and that the police probably had taken it for evidence. “Fuck!”, she exclaimed. “What?”, Angel asked, coming running into the bedroom. “My gun… It was the one Camille… It has my prints all over it!”. “EZ told the cops you fought her for it, so the prints shouldn’t be an issue”, Angel said, his voice relieved that he hadn’t found her in trouble. “Is it registered?”. “No, and the serial is filed off… I did grow up with SAMCRO”, Nina grunted. She sighed heavily, and sat down on the bed, to get some weight off her leg. “Is there enough first-aid stuff at the clubhouse?”. “Why?”, Angel asked. Nina shot him a hard look. “You know why”, she replied. “We’re also gonna need a couple of pre-paids in case of emergencies… We’ve got food and drinks, because we were getting ready for the party… I wish there was a proper kitchen, though… And extra guns. Anyone who can shoot should be carrying…”.

Angel crouched in front of her, and took her hands in his own. “Breathe, mami… We got this, ok? You don’t have to worry”. “Well, I am fucking worried!”, Nina growled. “If Bishop had an old lady, it would be her responsibility to keep the people in the clubhouse comfortable. Now I have to…”. “You know what you’re doing… I hear you had a good teacher”, Angel smiled. “Teller’s mom, right? She was good queen…”. “Yeah… most of the time”, Nina muttered. She still felt ambivalent about how Gemma had fulfilled her duties; mainly due to how she’d ended her reign by breaking Jax’s heart, and killing his wife. She’d also been a good friend and surrogate aunt, though; at least in the beginning. “Just do what you always do. We’ll take care of the rest”. “Yeah… You’re gonna go get fucking murdered, while I serve potato-salad to scared hangarounds…”. Angel leaned forward, and caught her lips in a warm kiss. “I’m coming back to you”, he said. “Promise me…”, Nina said. He placed her hand on his chest, just above his heart. “I swear, cuervo…”. He kissed her again, and got to his feet. “I’m gonna go get my extra hardware. Do you remember where I put the Beretta?”. “You can’t remember where you put your guns?”. “Some of them are kinda small… They get lost”, he muttered. Nina rolled her eyes. “Behind the toilet-rolls in the cabinet under the bathroom sink”, she sighed.

Angel left the room, and Nina got to her feet again; leaning against her crutches. “What the fuck?”, Angel yelled. Nina hobbled after him as quickly as she could. “What’s wrong?”, she asked, and tried to look out from behind him, as he stood in the doorway. “What the hell is that?”, Angel said, and pointed at something skinny and furry; cowering in the corner of the shower. Nina gasped, and pushed past him. “Don’t…! It’s just a poor kitty”, she said. Limping slowly forwards, she got to her knees in front of the shaking tabby. “Hey bug…”, she cooed, and stretched out her hand. The cat hissed, before leaning its head forwards to sniff her. “Get the fuck out!”, Angel growled, and took a threatening step forward. “Stop it! You’re scaring it…”, Nina said.

The cat hissed again, but Nina kept her hand out; and after a few moments, it stepped forward, and blinked slowly at her, before pushing its forehead against her hand. It was missing part of its left ear, and from the looks of its pronounced hipbones, it was clear it hadn’t had a proper meal in quite a while. The skin was sagging off it, and bellow its belly. “It’s a stray… Probably has all sorts of diseases”, Angel grunted. “It probably jumped through the window to get out of the rain”, Nina said, ignoring Angel’s displeased tone. “Do we have anything for it to eat?”. “No”, Angel said coldly, and walked over to grab the cat. “I’ll throw it outside. Close the window, so it doesn’t come back in”. Nina looked hard at him. “No!”, she said. “It needs food and care…”. “Nina…”. “You said we could get a cat!”. “Not this one!”, Angel declared. “We can go to a shelter or something. Get a kitten. I’m not taking in some old, ratched…”. His words drowned in Nina’s exclamations of aww, as the tabby once again pressed its head against her hand, and let her scratch it behind its ears. “Angel… Look at him…!”. “How do you know it’s a he?”, Angel grunted. “I’d think you’d recognize a pair of balls when you saw them”, Nina chuckled. The cat stroked its entire body against her thigh. “Such a good bug… That’s your name, isn’t it…? Bug…”.

Angel groaned loudly, and shook his head. “We gotta go”. Nina was lost in cuddling her new friend. “Mami… Nina! We gotta hit the road… Look, we’ll keep the window open. If it’s still here when we come back, we’ll talk about it”. “Please, just put out some food for him…”, Nina pleaded. “But then he’ll stay for sure!”. “Yeah…”. She shot out her lower lip in a pout, and looked pleadingly at Angel. The biker groaned again, and left the bathroom for a few moments, before returning with an open tin of tuna. He dropped it on the floor. “Here… eat, cat”, he grunted. “His name is Bug”, Nina said with a chiding tone. Angel put his arms under hers, and raised her to her feet. “Fine. Bug. Let’s go”, he muttered, and led her out of the bathroom.

At the last second, Nina grabbed Jax’s helmet. She wasn’t planning on riding on the back of any bikes any time soon, due to her leg; but she felt naked without it near her.

EZ met them by the front door, as they were on their way out. “Bro, what took so long?”. “We were adopting a cat”, Angel said. “A cat?”, EZ asked. “His name is Bug…”, Angel replied. “Don’t ask”. Nina smirked, and tugged at his cut, to get him to lean down for a kiss; before they went back to the van.

---

The yard was crowded with bikes when they finally arrived. Bishop and Hank met them on the porch; and Nina was reminded of Taza’s decision to tell the club his secret, the day before. Not seeing him next to the president, made a knot form in her stomach. “What the fuck took you so long?”, Bishop growled. “Cats… bugs…”, Angel muttered. “Don’t ask”, EZ chuckled.

Angel helped Nina up the stairs to the clubhouse. Once inside, they were greeted by the rest of the Mayans, and a few bikers from the Oakland charter. Nina recognized them from SAMCRO parties, but didn’t know any of their names, save Alvarez’s. El Padrino himself gave her a polite nod from his seat by the bar. She scanned the room for Taza, and frowned when she realized he wasn’t inside either. Angel put a hand on her hip. “Go sit down”, he muttered, and went over to talk to Gilly. Chucky pulled out a chair for her, and Nina sat down; soon joined by Letty and Gaby – the latter looking quite uncomfortable with the situation. EZ squeezed her shoulder comfortingly, before going to stand by the wall, behind Bishop. Chucky went outside, to keep an eye on the gate.

Most of the hangarounds Nina knew from around the clubhouse was spread throughout the room. There was a group of women Nina had not met before, stood around a striking middle-aged woman, who looked like Riz. Nina decided she was probably Vicky, and that the women were employees at the brothel. Vicky gave her a curious look, as if challenging her to have a bad opinion of them. Nina simply smiled friendlily; and Vicky’s expression softened, before she nodded in greeting.

Gilly came over to Nina, and handed her a small plastic bag, with white pills. “Oxys”, he muttered. “For your leg”. “Thanks…”, Nina said. Gilly winked at her, and slipped away.

“You know why we’re here”, Bishop said; lifting his voice to catch the attention of the people in the room. “We have a rival club moving in on our territory. Vatos Malditos have been coming for our business, by trying to convince a long-time partner to end our relationship with them; in return for what they claim is a better deal. They even put a rat in our midst; a rat that ended up seriously hurting a member of our family, while trying to kill her”. There was a murmur of curses. Bishop raised his hand to quiet everyone down. “We have to answer this disrespect with force… You’re all here because you’re a part of the family, and because we don’t want anyone else to get hurt. We don’t know that VM won’t send a few guys this way; but as long as you stay within the fences, you’ll be safe”. Hank stepped forward, apparently the de facto VP. “We have the Sons of Anarchy coming down from San Bernadino and Charming. Creeper will stay behind here with a few Sons, for your protection”, he said. Creeper didn’t seem happy about the fact that he wasn’t going with his brothers. He’d probably lost a draw for the post. “If you have any security questions, take it up with him”. “Anything to do with provisions or comfort, you go to our den-mother”, Bishop said, and gestured towards Nina. “Nina isn’t very mobile at the moment, but she can point you in the direction of what you need. She knows this place like her back hand”. Angel shot her a warm smile, and she felt her cheeks burn in embarrassment.

Chucky came running in to the clubhouse. “They’re here”, he grinned. A roar of bikes came from the yard, and soon after, Filip stepped inside, followed by Les Packer. Happy, Rat and Tig came in behind them, and Nina saw a group of SAMDINO Sons waiting outside by the bikes. The room was getting crowded. Foregoing custom, Filip strode over to Nina, and pulled her up into his arms. “We didn’t send you back to get shot, luv’”, he said. “I’m ok”, Nina muttered; then winced, when she accidentally put weight on her bad leg. “Fuck’s sake…”, Filip growled. Angel sprang over to support Nina as she got back to her seat. Happy and Tig stepped over to kiss her forehead and squeeze her shoulder, and Rat gave her a shy smile, before they all went to greet Bishop and Alvarez.

After the obligatory back and forth between the patches, Filip, Alvarez and Bishop went into templo, to speak in private for a few moments. Angel headed over to the bar to grab a drink for himself and Nina. While he was gone, Packer came over to greet Nina. He bent down, and gave her a gentle hug. “How are you doing, Neens?”, he asked, and sat down next to her. “I’m alive”, she shrugged with a half-smile. “This is a new setup for you, sweetcheeks”, Packer said. “You comfortable here?”. “Yeah… why?”. “I dunno… You could have been happy in Berdoo as well”, Packer teased. Angel came back with a mug of coffee for Nina, and a beer for himself. “I like the accommodations here”, she smiled, and looked at Angel. “Yeah, I heard…”, Packer said, and raised a brow at the Mayan. “You’d probably have to deal with less gun-shots though. We’re more careful with who we let in our midst”. “It was a mistake that won’t happen again”, Angel grunted, and gave Packer a hard look. “It better not. This isn’t some random croweater you’ve borrowed from Charming”, Packer said. “No. She’s not”, Angel said. “She’s a Mayan old lady”.

Nina rolled her eyes, and pulled out a cigarette. Both men whipped out a lighter, and raced to light them; before holding them in front of her face. “If you two could stop measuring dicks for a moment, you might notice you’re burning off my eyebrows”, Nina sneered. “Sorry, cuervo”, Angel muttered. Nina gave him a slight smile, and a soft kiss, before letting Packer light her smoke. “You still a crow then?”, the SAMDINO president asked, having noticed Angel’s nickname for her. “I’m still me…”, Nina said. “I’ve just got a bigger family now”. “Good for you”, Packer said, and took her hand; giving it a gentle squeeze. “Jax would be happy for you… after he kicked this guy’s ass for diddling his baby-sis”. Angel chuckled at this. “Like he threatened to do you, if you tried anything?”, Nina said. “I didn’t know you were only seventeen at the time!”, Packer laughed. “Bullshit. You arrived the day before my eighteenth birthday-party; and sat at the clubhouse the whole night, looking at your watch to wait for midnight, so I’d be legal”, Nina smirked. “Guilty”, Packer shrugged. “Didn’t do me much good, though; did it…? Teller was a hardass when it came to you. I didn’t stand a chance with him watching over you like a hawk”. They shared a knowing laugh, before Packer looked at Angel. “You don’t have anything to worry about, Reyes. I know when to back off”, he said. “And she’d probably cut my balls off, before you got a chance to, if I tried anything… You’ve got a special lady here”. Angel smiled, relaxing a bit in his seat. “I know…”, he said, and kissed Nina’s temple.

Bishop came out of templo, and nodded to the other bikers. Mayans and Sons alike got to their feet, and began moving towards the ornate door. Angel put a hand on the back of Nina’s head, and caught her lips in a warm kiss; before joining the others. Packer gave her a sly wink, and followed Angel. “Prospect. You too”, Bishop called after EZ. Gabriella gave him a worried look, and he slipped over to give her a quick peck on the cheek, before walking in to templo, and closing the door, once everyone was inside.

Nina got on her feet, and hobbled over to sit down next to the girl. Gaby was visibly shaking, and Nina took her hand. “I know this is all really scary; but we’ll be ok”, she said. Having SAMCRO, SAMDINO and the Mayans all in the same house made her believe her own words more than she had thought she would. “But, what if he gets hurt?”, Gaby asked. “I didn’t even tell him…”. “Tell him what?”, Nina said. Gabriella met her eyes, and they gave away the words she’d had trouble saying. “Oh… Well, I think he knows already; but it wouldn’t hurt his courage and desire to come back whole, if you said it…”. Gaby smiled softly. “I suppose you’re right”, she said.

Letty came over to join them, carrying a couple of cokes for her and Gaby. “Are you talking about your boyfriends?”, she smirked. “You guys could become sisters-in-law!”. “Whoa! Angel and I just got a cat. We’re not talking diamond rings yet”, Nina said. “Good. I don’t think he can afford one”, Leticia teased.

---

After about an hour, the bikers emerged from templo with somber expressions. Angel strode over to Nina, and took her hand. “We’re meeting Palo by the east tunnel”, he muttered. “What’s gonna happen?”, Nina asked nervously. Angel sighed. “We’re not giving him what he wants, so we’re prepared for a fight”. Nina shuddered. Knowing it was a lost cause, she hadn’t been able to keep from at least hoping that Filip and the others would be able to talk the Mayans out of full-on war. Their own experience with rival groups, made them well aware of the devastation something like that could bring a club. Stories of Abel’s kidnapping and Half-Sack’s death – both by the hands of a disgruntled IRA-member – and Gemma’s rape and beating by right-wing psychos, should have been enough fodder for the Mayans to decide to back down, and try to find another way out of the situation. “Shit…”, she hissed. “But what about what Taza told you? Can’t you just use that…?”. “The prez’ didn’t even mention it”, Angel muttered. “I don’t know… its like he’s pretending the conversation never took place”. “Where is Taza?”, Nina asked. “I don’t know… He went home last night. At least he said he was going home…”. Nina frowned. “It’ll be ok", Angel tried. “I gotta go clear some details with Bish…”. He squeezed her hand, and slipped away to go speak with his president.

Filip, Tig and Happy came over to take turns hugging her tightly. “We’ve been here before, muffin”, Tig said. “Walk in the park”, Happy muttered. “Rat’s staying behind with one of the SAMDINO-guys. You’ll be safe”. Filip made her sit down, and crouched in front of her. “You know the drill”, he said meaningfully. “We’re coming back. But if we don’t…”. “I know who to call, and in what order…”, Nina muttered. “Be careful“. “You just keep this clubhouse in shape, and have the beers ready for our return", Filip smiled. He pulled out a black handgun, with a dark wooden handle. The distinct SOA A was carved in to the wood, just over the initials, JT. “That .38 only seems to bring you trouble…”, Filip said, and put it in her hand. “I thought you were saving this for Abel…”, Nina croaked. “Jackie didn’t want guns in his boys’ hands… He didn’t want them in yours either, but seeing as things have turned out…”. Nina stuck the gun down the back of her waistband. “Thank you…”. Filip pressed a kiss to her forehead, and the three SAMCRO bikers headed towards the door with Packer.

Angel came back over to say goodbye. “I hate this, Angel”, Nina croaked. “I know, querida… But this is the way it’s gotta be”, Angel said. He gathered her into his arms, making her lean against him. Their lips instantly met in a frenzied kiss; hungrily devouring each other. Nina breathed Angel in, as if it was the last kiss, they’d ever share; and in all honestly, she was afraid that it might be. Brushing her tongue against Angel’s lower lip, he let it meet his own; tasting her, and letting her taste him. “I love you”, Nina whispered. “Te amo”, Angel replied. “I’m coming back”. He pressed a last kiss against her lips.

Nina saw Gaby whisper something in EZ's ear, and he smiled happily at her. After EZ had kissed his love, Angel gave the girl a warm hug. “I’ll make sure he comes back too”, he said, trying for a smile. Gaby nodded, and Nina took her hand, holding it tightly. Coco kissed Letty’s forehead, and muttered something in her ear, before handing her over to Nina; who wrapped her free arm around the teenager. The Mayan gave Nina a half hug, and followed Angel out the door. “They’ll be ok”, Nina said. “But we need to get ready”.

Once the door was closed behind the men heading out, she gave Creeper a look, and the Mayan raised his voice. “Listen up, people. Nina’s got work for you!”. Gaby handed Nina her crutches, and she hobbled into the middle of the room. “We need people to take care of food. The back room is full of provisions; do what you can with it. Felipe will be here later with meat for the grills. I wanna see him when he does…”. Creeper nodded, and a few of the women moved towards the back room. Gabriella joined them, much to Nina’s joy. “You’re free to the bar, but remember why we’re here. Getting wasted isn’t a good idea… Does anyone have medical experience?”. One of the women from Vicky’s place raised her hand. “I’m in nursing school”, she said. “Great”, Nina smiled. “I’m not saying we’ll need it, but I’d like you to set up a first-aid station, in case we do; and the guys are unable to cross the border for the doc”. “Ok… yeah!”, the woman smiled; seemingly proud that she could contribute with something important. Vicky gave Nina a warm smile. “The rest of you, chip in wherever you can. We all have a responsibility to make our stay here as comfortable and safe as possible… That means, don’t flirt with the guys on watch”. Creeper chuckled at this, and patted Rat’s shoulder. They had the first shift, and headed for the door.

Nina blew out a deep breath, and sat back down. Vicky came over with a refill for her mug. “Welcome to the family”, she smiled, and winked at her.

---

The hours dragged by. They had no word from the men in the field, and every time the door opened, Nina’s heart jumped; hoping that her loved ones would walk in.

While Nina sat on her chair, her leg throbbing in pain, making her unable to walk around, Letty paced the floor for the both of them. “If he dies, I’m gonna fucking kill him!”, she growled. “Then I’ll bury him next to Celia, in her dick-shaped hole in the desert!”. “Letty, sit down”, Nina said. “Why?”. “Because your pacing is giving me a headache”. Leticia sat down, and Nina noticed tears forming in her eyes. “We just started being a family… And now he might…”. She couldn’t finish the sentence. Nina took her hands. “Coco is a survivor, and he’s gonna do whatever he can to get back to you”, she said. “You think so?”, Letty muttered. “I know so”, Nina smiled. “Your dad loves you, Letty. He’s not gonna leave you”.

Letty wiped her eyes, just in time for Gaby to come over with two plates filled with deliciousness. “I did what I could with what’s here”, she said. “It looks amazing”, Nina said. “But I’m not really hungry”. “You have to eat, if you’re taking pain-medication”, Gaby enthused. “I’m not… I’m trying to keep a level head”. “Just take a fucking pill, Nina”, Letty sighed. “You’re in so much pain, your face is contorted”. “I’m…”, Nina began, before catching the expression on both girls’ faces. “Fine…”, she said, and dug out a pill from the plastic bag in her pocket; downing it with a sip of coffee.

Gaby gave her as bright a smile as she could manage, and pushed the plate of food towards her. Nina took a few bites, when suddenly the door opened, and Felipe stepped inside. He looked around, making it clear it was the first time he’d actually been inside the clubhouse. He frowned slightly, and walked over to Nina. “That guy you call Freak said you wanted to talk to me”, he said. “Creeper”, Nina smiled. “Sure", Felipe said. “Letty, will you help me get the meat?”, Gaby said, and the two girls went out the door. “Please sit. I can’t really stand right now", Nina said. Felipe took the chair just around the corner of the table from her. “I need to get back to the shop…”, he muttered. “You can’t take the day off?”, Nina asked. “The weekend is coming up”, Felipe grunted. “People have family coming for dinner…”. “You’re family”, Nina said. “To these people?”, Felipe asked, and looked at the people in the room. His tone wasn’t disapproving, but he did seem uncomfortable at the view of the scantily clad hangarounds setting up drinks and food; and the nursing student, who was currently preparing bandages, while wearing a barely-there tube top, and a short denim skirt. “To me…”, Nina said, and took Felipe’s hand. “To Gaby…”. They both looked towards Gabriella, who sent them a warm smile, as she came through the door with a container of what looked like steaks.

Felipe sighed deeply. “I told EZ and Angel, I can protect myself”, he said. “Then… stay here and protect us as well”, Nina said. “We don’t know what’s happening out there. It’s dangerous for all of us to be out in the open. Angel and EZ might…”. She chewed her lips and swallowed thickly, trying to suppress tears. “Please stay here with us, suegro”. A smile ghosted Felipe’s lips. “That’s where we’re at, then?”, he said. “You and Angel, I mean”. “I’m… I love him. I really do”. Felipe chuckled. “He’s lucky to have you”, he said. He shot a look at the food prepping station, and rolled his eyes. “Gabriella, lo estás tallando de la manera incorrecta! I told you; follow the bone… Never mind, I’ll show you”. The old butcher got to his feet, and went to take over the carving of the meat. Nina let out a relieved sigh. Felipe was staying.

Needing to get some air, she got to her feet, and used her crutches to move towards the door. A smiling hangaround sprang over to open it for her, and Nina thanked her quietly; before stepping outside. The sky was grey. Apparently, the rain the night before was coming back; she could smell it on the air. She sat down on one of the chairs on the porch, and dug out her cigarettes. Opening the packet, she saw that Coco must have done a reverse pickpocketing when he hugged her; as he’d left her a perfectly rolled joint. She smiled to herself, and considered lighting up; before deciding against it. The oxy was already doing its work, and her leg felt better by the minute. Lighting a cigarette instead, she took a deep huff. The yard was too quiet. The windchimes hung next to the door of the clubhouse, which were usually deafened by the usual sounds of metal screeching and bikes roaring, was all she could hear.

Pulling out Jackson’s gun, she took a deep breath, and closed her eyes. She ran her thumb over the letters he’d carved in to the handle. “I remember when you did this”, she said quietly. “Back when you were still stupid enough to think you were immortal…”.

… “What if you lose it? The police will track you down, dumbass!”, Nina said. “I’ll be fine, darlin’”, Jax said, grinning brightly. “Besides, I gotta leave my mark on this world somehow!”. Nina rolled her eyes at him, and picked her book up. “You’re gonna shoot someone, and they’ll track the gun to you”, she growled. Jax chuckled, and stuck the gun down the front of his waistband. “If you don’t shoot your dick off, first”, she muttered. He frowned, and put the gun in the back of his jeans instead. “What are you reading? Teenage-vampire shit?”, he asked. “Screw you… It’s Hamlet. For school”. “O, what a rogue and peasant slave am I!”, Jax exclaimed. Nina couldn’t help but smile. “Careful with that gun, or you’ll have me saying: Goodnight, sweet prince, and flights of angels sing thee to thy rest…”. Jax got to his feet, and headed towards the ladder going down from the roof. “We’re meeting up with some Mexican guys… They need our help with something”, he said. “Finish your homework, little sister. We gotta keep your ass out of CaraCara”. He stopped dead in his tracks, and walked back to her, leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead. “Doubt thou the stars are fire; Doubt that the sun doth move; Doubt truth to be a liar; But never doubt I love”. “I love you too… But you’re still a dumbass”, Nina smiled…

“I wish you were here…”, she whispered. “But where ever you are – if there’s anything you can do to keep him safe… all of them… Please”.

She jolted in her seat, when Creeper appeared next to her, a phone in hand. “It’s for you”, he muttered. Nina took the phone, and put it to her ear. Creeper gave her frowning and confused look, before walking into the clubhouse, leaving her alone. “Hello?”. “Nina?”. “Taza?”. “Yeah, it’s me; sweetheart… Do you wanna help me end this war before it starts?”.

---

If you’ve followed this story this far, thank you! Also; It’s my birthday! Make it an even better one, by leaving a comment.

- no lady

tags: @cole-winchester @doloreschanal

#angel reyes #angel reyes fic #angel reyes x oc #mayans mc #mayans mc fic #clayton cardenas #ez reyes

[stevesharrlngtons]

picking out the stitches.

roman godfrey x reader 

summary: after letha’s death; peter’s departure; shelley’s disappearance; and a brutal fight with subsequent break up with roman; you escape to the empire state for college and a fresh start. though, after thinking you have been given the space to move on with your life, your father’s unexpected death sends you back to hemlock grove. there, you are forced to confront the reason for your pained departure.

word count: 14.1k (oopies)

warning: mentions of an abusive father

a/n: this is a long bitch, with a possible part two (?) if this is enjoyed by you all! (: i hope the length of this makes up for it taking so long lol. also prob ooc roman bc i love him just being soft 

please if you read this and like it, know that feedback is greatly appreciated and i’d love to hear any thoughts you have!! also im bad at editing 

Tuna, turkey and swiss, BLT. 

No option offered sounded particularly tasty. You had come in search of egg salad sandwich, a surprising delicacy from the Hemlock Grove Grocery Deli that you had been craving since your departure months ago. It felt like comfort food, a way to make being back in town bearable. 

But the stockboys seemed to be sending you a message: there was no good reason to be back in town, and no sandwich was going to remedy your pain. 

“(Y/N)?” 

You flinched at the sound of your name as sweat prickled the back of your neck. The last fucking thing you wanted was to be recognized the second you got back into town. Being forced to interact with any of the waspy bitches or rednecks that attended your high school, especially now, seemed like a personal affront punishable with only your meanest of glares and most backhanded of compliments. 

But, who you found had called your name was not only a surprise, but a pleasant one. Not a bitch or mouth breather in sight. 

“Peter?” Your eyebrows perked up as you said his name, no doubt unable to hide your complete shock at his sudden appearance. 

“In the flesh.” He smiled. That same boyish smile that he always gave especially when you needed to see it. 

Your body worked on it’s own violation as you shot yourself at him, wrapping him in a tight hug. He thankfully returned the gesture, gripping the fabric of your dress in his fingers to keep you close. Peter pressed his nose to your temple and you buried yourself deep into the crook of his neck. It wasn’t until a voice cleared behind you that the two of you pulled apart. 

“Excuse me,” A man holding a wire basket interpreted, seeming less than pleased to have been forced to witness your reunion. 

“Sure, after you, sir.” Peter said, theatrically waving the man past. 

“Stupid fucker, couldn’t even go through another aisle.” He watched the man leave with a scowl.

“Shut up about inconiquestional people and tell me what the hell you’re doing back in town!” You said with a wide smile while slapping his chest playfully. 

“I think that’s a better question suited for me to you, don’t you think? Last I heard you fucked off to N-Y-C.” Peter said, leaning against the display of sandwiches. 

“Yeah? And who told you that?” 

“Destiny.” 

You smirked and rested your shoulder against the display, “She’s got a big mouth.” 

“Big mouth? Who cares if she does! New York is a big deal. NYU, even bigger.” 

You roll your eyes at the compliment. 

“Hey, no, I’m serious! You always were the scholar out of us. Fucking valedictorian while Roman and I barely managed C’s.” He continued. 

At the mention of Roman, you sucked in a sharp breath through your nose, eyes breaking from Peter’s only long enough for him to see your pain at his name. 

“You still haven't answered my question, you know?” You said, trying to seamlessly change the subject, fiddling with the ends of your hair to keep your hands busy. 

“Yeah, well, it isn’t a happy answer.” 

“Enlighten me anyway.” 

Peter gives a heaving sigh, a signature of his, “Lynda got pinched for some shit and was transferred out here... I followed.” 

Your heart sank. Lynda had always been exponentially kind and understanding. To you, Shelley and even Roman. 

“Shit, Peter. I’m so sorry. How’re you holding up?” You placed a comforting hand on his forearm. 

“As well as I can given the circumstances. I’m staying with D, so at least that’s good.” He gives a forced smile. 

“I’m glad you’re with family at a time like this.” You drop your hand and slouch against the display, matching his relaxed posture. 

There was a brief pause between the two of you, before Peter spoke again. 

“Usually, when one party enlightens the other, they are obligated to do the same.” He leans in ever so slightly to emphasize his point. 

“That is usually the deal, yes.” 

“So?”

“My dad croaked a few days ago. Heart attack.” 

“Holy shit, (Y/N/N),” Peter interrupted, face falling into a concerned frown. 

“No, no. It’s fine. He was a piece of shit,” You shrug. 

“Still, he was your dad.” 

“Yeah, he was my dad who hit me and my mom and loved booze more than either of us.” 

“He still was your dad, (Y/N).” He reiterated. 

You purse your lips and sigh.

“I know, but that doesn’t mean I have to be all fucking weepy about the whole thing.” You say, grabbing a turkey and swiss from the display and pushing off to walk toward the register. 

“No one said you had to be,” Peter appealed as he followed behind you, “But don’t let everything get all clogged up in there.” 

He motioned to his chest and you roll your eyes, setting your sandwich on the conveyor belt for the cashier. 

“I promise you, the moment he is six feet under I will let all my emotions out. Mainly rejoice and relief.” You sent Peter a smile as your sandwich rang up. 

“Four forty, even.”

You reach into your purse, but Peter beats you to it. He hands the cashier a crumpled up five dollar bill. 

You give him a glare, “You didn’t have to do that.” 

“Of course I did. It’s gonna be my lunch too.” He snatched the sandwich from the bagging area and saunters to the exit, leaving you to gather the nickels and dimes. 

Parked in a gravel parking lot looking over the lake, you and Peter sat in the cab of his tow truck. Both eating a half of the mediocre turkey and swiss while sharing a warm cherry Coke from the center console in silence. After a brief session of catch up on your lives over the past few months, you were both happy enough to just sit quietly in each other's company. Simply enjoying the comfort of being in the presence of someone you love. 

“You ever hear from him?” Peter spoke up, mouth full of bread and slimy meat. 

“Who?” You at least have the decency to cover your mouth as you spoke. 

“You know who. Don’t make me say his name, you got all squirly last time.” 

You sighed as you finish chewing the food in your mouth, savoring what you could of the cheap flavors as you avoided Peter’s gaze. Once you swallowed, you took a long gulp from the Coke can before answering. 

“No. He’s been out of my life since that night. Really prefer to keep it that way, too.” You replied clippedly, not wanting to talk about him any more than necessary. 

Peter belows a raspberry in response. 

You looked over to glare at him, “What?” 

“I just find that hard to believe.”

“That I don’t want to see the man who broke my heart?” You snap. 

“No, that Roman has been able to keep his distance from you.” 

“I thought we weren’t saying his name.” You abruptly look away and out the windshield once more. 

“Apologies.”

“You don’t have to sound so sincere about it.” You scoff. 

“What happened between you two, anyway? Before I left I could practically hear wedding bells.” 

“Destiny didn’t tell you?” You press your lips together firmly, hoping Destiny had just made up a lie on your behalf to tell her cousin. 

“All she said was that you and Roman supposedly got into this huge fight and you left a few days after. Nothing more, nothing less.” He explained. 

“Yeah, well huge fight is an understatement.” 

“Then what happened?” 

You sigh deeply, reclining against the headrest and wrapping your arms around your middle for some misplaced search for security. 

“It happened a few days after you skipped town. It was his birthday…” 

Music echoed around you as you placed gentle kisses along the expanse of Roman’s neck. You ran your fingers through his hair gently, collecting grease and pomade on your fingertips and under your nails as you did. He had an arm securing you tightly to his side, the other had been holding you too, but he had retrieved it to light a cigarette. 

After the traumatic week you two had undergone, you didn’t fight Roman much when he insisted all he wanted to do for his eighteenth birthday was drink, watch a movie and have you sleep over. You were happy he at least let you buy him a cupcake to commemorate the day, but wouldn’t see to any more festivities. He told you that now more than ever wasn’t a time to be merry. You didn’t blame him, no matter how much you wanted to celebrate him today. 

So, you let him share his birthday cupcake with you in the bottom of an empty swimming pool and hold you in an uncomfortable lounge chair for as long as he wanted. Fortunately, this was as calm as you’d seen him in days and you hoped that continued; at least until midnight. 

Roman lulled his head on top of yours and placed his hand on your hip, making sure every part of you that could be touching was. 

The sound of a door opening resounded in the distance and the distinct tap of heels on tile followed. You felt Roman deflate next to you as you both recognized who the sound belonged to. 

In sauntered Olivia, in a beautiful floor length gown with a sparkler in hand, painting patterns in the dark with the fire illuminating her wicked smile. 

“Happy Birthday, my darling.” She chimed, looking down at the both of you. 

You and Roman both shifted under her unwelcome gaze, neither responding. You turned further into Roman’s neck and you felt his fingers press harder into the flesh of your hip. 

“It can’t be a party with just the two of you, can it?” Olivia said, dropping the sparkler to lay by her side. 

“Well, three’s a crowd. So if you’ll excuse us.” Roman waved his hand that held his cigarette dismissively.

“One is the loneliest number, but two can be just as bad.” Olivia replied in a musical lit. 

Again, neither of you respond. You busy yourself fiddling with the collar of Roman’s tank top.

“(Y/N), darling, you do look beautiful tonight.” She turns her attention to you after the silence she received. Something Olivia knew Roman disapproved of her doing. 

“Thank you, Mrs. Godfrey.” You reply politely, glancing at her briefly before going back to Roman’s shirt. 

“Is that the dress Roman bought you some time back? I remember hearing you tell Shelley about it over dinner.” Olivia continued. 

“What is it that you want, again?” Roman snapped, making you flinch at his volume increase. 

“I have a surprise for you. In the attic.” She gestured using what’s left of the dying sparkler at the ceiling. 

“Can’t it wait?” Roman said, wholly disinterested. 

“No, it cannot, Roman. It is your birthday surprise and I would like to give it to you now.” Her voice became more stern by the word. 

Roman moves to look at you and you do the same. His eyes are inviting you to a conversation Olivia isn’t privy too. An almost psychic communication you’ve had together since the day you first met. 

Do we go with her? Or wait her out until she leaves? 

Just see what she wants. Once she’s shown you we can get back to doing whatever you want. 

Roman pursed his lips before letting out a dramatic sigh, “Fine.” 

He got up from the chair before offering you his hand to help you up. 

Olivia watched as you both climb the ladder out of the empty pool and onto the landing. 

“Let’s get this over with.” Roman gave his mother a firm glare. 

He placed a hand on the small of your back and started for the door when Olivia stopped him. 

“I’m afraid, this gift is for Godfrey eyes only.” She looked at you with weakly masked distaste. 

You felt Roman’s fingers once again probe into your skin, “She is a Godfrey.” 

“Not in name or blood.”

“But she will be so it doesn’t matter.” Roman retorted, harshly. 

This wasn’t the first time he had alluded to your future together, and at the time, you didn’t think it would be the last. 

“Well, she isn’t yet, is she? When she is, then she will be welcome to engage in all Godfrey birthday present exchanges.” Olivia sneered.

“There is nothing you could show me that she can’t-” You placed a gentle hand on Roman’s chest before he could continue. 

This fight certainly wasn’t worth it. Especially not over a fucking birthday present. 

“It’s fine. I’ll wait in your room.” You offered. 

“Off the premise.” Olivia chimed in curtly. 

“Excuse me?” Roman spat. 

“(Y/N) can go home and see you tomorrow. This gift needs much explanation and discussion.” 

“This is beyond fucking ridiculous!” 

“Ro, it’s OK. I’ll see you tomorrow.” You smile up at him. 

You didn’t want to leave him. Not now, not ever, but never with Olivia. 

“I’ll see you later tonight.” Roman stressed.

“Tomorrow would be-” 

“Let’s just call it a see-you-soon, then?” You cut off Olivia, never taking your eyes off Roman. 

He just tightens his jaw, so tight you’re afraid he might crack a filling. But he nods. 

“Fine. I’ll call you.” He says. And he says it with such sincerity that you know without a doubt he will, “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

He kisses your forehead and you kiss his cheek, not overly keen on giving him the proper goodbye kiss you wanted to infront of Olivia. As you walk away, you spare Olivia a last glance and the look on her smug face is one so self satisfied it made your stomach churn. 

Roman never called you that night, or even the next morning. The calls you gave him were left unanswered; texts and voicemails the same. 

You would have called Peter, Shelley or Letha to see if they’d heard from Roman at a time like this, but all were depressingly dead ends. 

Under the circumstances that you left under the night before, you took it upon yourself to drive to the Godfrey residence and find out what the hell was going on yourself. You didn’t trust Olivia as far as you could throw her, and you didn’t put any heinous act past her. 

Your worry beat out any common sense you had to stay away and wait for Roman to come to you. 

When you arrived and knocked on the door, several times to be exact, it seemed no one was home. Though, both cars were in the driveway and you knew neither Roman or Olivia would take a cab anywhere. With balled fists you slammed against the wood of the door, kicking your foot against it as well for good measure. You had been in your knocking rhythm so long, when the door finally opened you stumbled forward. 

You caught yourself on the knob and looked up to see who answered. 

Roman stood above you with expressionless features and down turned lips. 

“What?” He asked. 

“Don’t ‘what’ me! ‘What’ you! You never called and you haven’t been answering.” You said, straightening yourself out. 

“You’re not my fucking keeper,” Roman scoffed and turned his back to walk down the hallway. 

Your face screwed up in confusion as you stepped over the threshold into the mansion and slammed the door, then followed him through the house. 

“Excuse me? What is up with you?” You exclaimed. 

Roman had stopped in the kitchen, rummaging through the refrigerator while trying his best to seem unbothered with tense shoulders. 

“Nothing is up. I just didn’t want to call you.” He spoke into the crisper drawer. 

“Since when?” 

“Since now.” 

“What the fuck did Olivia show you? Must have been really messed up for you to be acting like this.” You let a humorless laugh through your nose. 

“Or maybe I was just happy to be rid of you and now that you’re back, I am pissed.” He slammed the door to the fridge, its contents rattling inside. 

Your surprised expression hadn’t wavered as Roman glared at you, his eyes dull and unfamiliar. 

“Ok, so, yesterday you’re talking about marrying me, and today I am some parasite you’re happy to be rid of? Is that right?” You took a step toward him. 

“I was never going to marry you, you delusional whore.” His first real hit, chipping away at your weak armour. The armour he had weakened himself with his love and care for years. 

“If I’m whore, I’d hate to know what that makes you.” You spat. 

“It makes me the fucking billionaire who mistakenly kept around some boring girl with a mediocre cunt.” His second hit. 

“Wow. You’re right, Roman. I am a whore, but I must be an idiot too! To stay with such a man who calls my pussy mediocre when he can’t even fuck me right.” You provoked. 

“Fuck you.” 

“Yeah? Why don’t you? Because for as long as I can remember I’ve been faking my orgasms just to get your pathetic little prick out of me. Is that why you cry after Roman? Because you know about that weak excuse of a dick between your legs?” 

You were being cruel and frankly, spinning lies. But he was hurting you and you wanted to hurt him back. 

“No, I cry thinking about all the other guys you let between your legs. Maybe that’s why daddy hits you, huh? Hoping that one day he hits you hard enough to rattle that whore brain so hard it kills you? So he won’t have to live with the shame? Or maybe he hopes if he hits you enough you’ll finally drop to your knees and show him that head everyone in town talks about.” The last hit, and the one that broke you. 

You close the last few steps between you and strike him as hard as you can muster across the face, cranking Roman’s head to the side with the impact. The slap rings loudly through the room, so do your sniffles. 

“How can you be so cruel? How could you ever say that to me?” You scream through tears. 

“Just speaking the truth.” Roman said smoothly, his head still rotated. 

“What is going on with you? What happened last night?” 

“I came to my senses, that’s what happened. I realized that I was sick of wasting all my time on a miserable little bitch when I could be out fucking real women.” He says through gritted teeth, “Real women who don’t need so much tedious validation from me.” 

“Are you done?” You snapped, your throat thick with tears. 

“With you. Yes.” 

You couldn’t think of anything else to say. Malicious words spun in your head, ready to fire off your tongue and tear him apart, but you knew you would never be able to get them out in one piece. You would stutter and sob and shake and it would give Roman even more satisfaction at seeing you crumble. So, you turned on your heel as fast as you could, holding your hand over your mouth to silence your cries and fled the Godfrey home. 

“Shee-it.” Peter said, looking sick. 

“Shee-it, indeed.” You nod. 

“So, that was it?” 

“That was it. I was there barely five minutes when it was all said and done… then I went home, cried my stupid eyes out and packed my shit. It was always the plan for me to do online courses and stay here with him, but, y’know, things changed... So, I left.” 

“I know that feeling.” Peter says, giving the river a thousand mile stare. 

“I know you do. Let’s not forget you abandoned me, too.” You said, far more harshly than intended. The topic of the break up having brought old wounds to the surface. 

A pained expression crossed his face, “(Y/N)... Fuck, I’m sorry. I am. I just… after Letha,” 

“You don’t have to explain. I’m sorry I snapped. I forgave you the minute you left, for the most part, anyway.” You shrugged. 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” You sigh and look over at him, “If I had been in your shoes I would have hightailed it the second I could have.” 

He offers you a sad smile, “But you needed me, and I left.” 

“It’s really OK. Because you’re here now. And it all worked out.” 

“New York that good, then?” 

“Better than good. I’m alone and broke-.” 

“And that’s better than good?” He chuckles.

“Surprisingly, yeah. I’m learning and figuring things out on my own. I’m finding things that make me happy without having to worry about anything else. It’s just nice.” You smile as you speak. 

“That makes me happy. Man, it really does. All I ever wanted for you was happiness. I thought I had left you with the silver you had left of it.” Peter says, resting his temple to the head rest. 

“You did what you had too and so did I. I’m sure Roman did too, in his own twisted way,” You reply, “I don’t want to focus on the past anymore. I am purley looking forward to the future from now on.” 

Peter dropped you off at home after hours of milling around the streets of Hemlock Grove in his truck. You kept asking if he had to go back to work, but he would dismiss your concern each time. Telling you that he was spending time with you and he’d worry about towing later. As much as you knew you should pressure him to take you home, you were happy for the company, especially when that company was Peter. 

His reappearance in your life was unexpected, but wholly accepted and appreciated. You didn’t know the next time you’d be able to see him again, so you were going to enjoy his companionship while you had it. 

Hopping out of the truck and brushing residual crumbs from the turkey sandwich from your dress, you shut the door. The window rolled down and Peter leaned over the console to look at you.   

“Don’t be a stranger.” He smiles at you and you can’t help but return it. 

“Never again.” 

“If you have time, come by Destiny’s before you head back up north. I know she’d love to have dinner.” He proposes and your smile widens. 

“I’d love that, I’ll keep you posted.” You start to back up toward your front door. 

“And let me know if you need anything, anything at all. I know losing someone is tough.” His smile falls slightly as the funeral is mentioned again. 

You knew Peter was worried about you and he had good intentions, but he didn’t know your father like you did. You were going to this thing for appearances and to make your grandmother happy, if you had had a choice you would have rather stayed at school. 

“Got it. Thank you, Peter.” 

You wave him off and you watch as he double takes to look at you until he is out of sight, only then did you enter your house. 

The house isn’t much and it wasn’t the home you grew up in. When your mother finally left your father, she promptly moved you both into a smaller place on the west side of Hemlock Grove that was better suited for your new family dynamic. 

It was a dated burgundy one story, with bland beige carpets and no overhead lighting in the bedrooms, but with two bathrooms. That was helpful down the line when your mother began dating again and her multiple suitors would stay for weeks at a time. You never wanted to be alone with any of them, so that meant crossing the boundary into her room to use the en suite was always out of the question. 

Your bedroom was somewhere you always found solace and comfort, even now it felt more like home than anywhere in the world. It had a small excuse of a bay window that looked out over a small and shallow creek. One of your mother’s more involved boyfriends had built you a window bench years before underneath it, upholstered in red velvet. You had run your fingers over the soft fabric so many times, certain places were now rubbed raw and threadbear. 

Roman used to sit on your bed while you sat on the bench, reading to him from a litany of novels, some for pleasure and some for assignments. He’d look at you and tell you the light from the window haloed you like an angel. You’d tell him he was just talking out of his ass to get you to stop reading and fool around. Then Roman would smirk and shrug, like he wasn’t sure who was more right. His memory seemed to be etched into every detail of your bedroom, unfortunately. 

There was the small heart he had carved into your headboard with an unclicked pen, your initials carved around it. There was your small Ikea vanity, that was stained with nail polish from the time Roman insisted he could do your nails better than you could. There was your closet, just big enough to hold you both inside; where you would steal kisses when you first started to sneak him into your room at night. There was the faded paint on the wall in the shape of a rectangle, where a picture frame of you and Roman at your first homecoming together had once been. There was your fucking duvet cover, that you and Roman would hide underneath on bright mornings. Where he’d hold you and kiss you softly, whispering sweet affections until the muggy air between you became thick and he’d push your noses up over the edge of the blanket to take in giggling gulps of breath. 

Roman Godfrey had left painful reminders of himself everywhere. There were too many for you to erase fully. His memory was like a Hydra, repress a recollection of his and two more would pop into your mind in its place.

Now, all the bench held your small suitcase that you had packed early this morning for your short trip down to Pennsylvania. Just some toiletries, a few changes of clothes, a black cocktail dress and a few textbooks. Just because your father died didn’t mean your school work would lighten because of it. 

While it wasn’t very late, you had been up early to catch your train and hadn’t expected to be out all day with Peter. You excused your premature exhaustion and decided it was best to take a shower, have a snack and then go to bed. Tomorrow was to no doubt try your nerves, so a full night's rest was likely your best option. 

After your shower, you slipped into a pair of pajamas and went down the hall to see if your mother had left you any suitable food. She was still on vacation with her current boyfriend and wouldn’t be able to make it back until Monday, a full day after you were set to leave. So, all you could hope was that there was something edible left in the pantry. 

Tussling your damp hair in your hands, you padded through the kitchen to try and make something with the odds and ends your mother had in stock. 

As you settled on a half eaten bag of tortilla chips and a jar of salsa, there was a knock at the door. Your mother’s car was missing from the driveway and anyone who would drop by unannounced knew she was out of town. Assuming it was a solicitor or a package delivery, you ignored it and continued on with your pre-bed snack. But the knocking didn’t let up. 

Begrudgingly, you made your way to the door in the hopes of shooing off whoever was bothering you. Though, when you opened it, you debated simply closing the door like it nothing had happened. To just shut the door tight and pretend that you hadn’t seen who was standing on your doorstep. All six feet four inches of him. 

With his back to you and a large bouquet of roses in hand, Roman glanced over his shoulder when he heard the door open. He looked about as startled as you felt when he laid eyes on you. 

“(Y/N).” He blurted out, his body swiveling like an owl to face the same direction as his head. 

“Roman.” You gave him a forced smile, cursing that you had lost your opportunity to run and hide.

“I, uh, well, wow. I, these are for your mother,” Roman whipped out the bouquet from behind him, “I heard about your dad. I just wanted to see how she was holding up. I know they aren’t close or anything, but y’know, it’s still the father of her child.” 

You took the flowers from him carefully, making sure to avoid where his fingers lay on the stems. 

“She’s not here, but thanks. I’ll make sure to let her know you stopped by.” You continued your kind facade before moving to shut the door. 

But Roman was quicker as he placed a large hand on the wood to keep it ajar. 

“I’m sorry for you too, you know? I know how it feels to lose a father. So, I’m sorry.” He said, like he was trying to keep you in his company as long as possible. 

“Wish my dad would have eaten a bullet when I was a kid. You got lucky.” You joke, once more trying to shut the door. 

And Roman continued to keep it open. 

“Well, I know things ended… bad- But! I’m still here if you need me. For anything. Have all the preparations been taken care of?” He asked. 

“Yeah, my grandma and grandpa took care of it. Nothing to worry about. But thanks, Roman.”

Roman’s eyes widened and his mouth puckered, the way he always did when he had a million things to say and no idea how to say them. 

You began to notice his attire as he loomed over you, with no seeming intention of leaving you or your front stoop alone. 

He wore a thick winter coat over a black three piece suit, tailored to perfection. His hair was parted on the right and smoothed down with gel. It certainly wasn’t your favorite look on him, but your input hardly mattered anymore. He wore Oxford dress shoes that were spotless and without a crease. You realized just then that he must have come right from The White Tower to bring the flowers to your mother, and these were his work clothes. These were the clothes and fifty dollar haircut of a fresh faced CEO.

You had known that he was set to secede the throne of Godfrey Industries once he turned eighteen, but you never gave it much thought after you moved to New York. The Roman who haunted your dreams and took residence in your thoughts was always your Roman. The boy who wanted to smoke and dance and kiss and laugh. Not a business tycoon out for blood. 

“I didn’t know you would be in town. I would have stopped by.” He said, finally finding words to give him a reason to stay. 

“You already have.” 

“I know, but I would have made it more deliberate. More to see you and not to just give my condolences to you mother.” Roman explained, his hand still on the door. 

You snort, “Yeah, well I don’t know why you’re giving her flowers anyway. She doesn’t like you. Not after I told her everything.” 

“Yeah, uh, I didn’t know that.” He laughs uncomfortably, finally taking a step away and relieving your door of his hostage. 

“Well, it was nice of you to come by. I’ll see you around, Roman.” It was clear from your tone that this incommodious conversation was over. 

Though, Roman still was outwardly ignoring your brusque attitude, “Could I come in? I would love to catch up for a moment? For old times sake?” 

“I don’t know if that is such a good idea.” 

“I won’t be long, I promise.” He bargained

You watched him for a long moment, debating on what to do. On one hand, you craved his presence. You craved him after just one sighting and wanted him to come in, to talk, to listen, to heal. Because like you said to Peter in the car earlier, you did believe that Roman had done what he had for a reason, it was just no doubt a fucked up and selfish one. You couldn’t hate him forever, you didn’t want to. It would destroy you before it did any good. 

On the other, all you could do was hear his voice echoing in your mind, explaining his disgust for you. 

But, you wanted to look to the future. You wanted to free yourself of the burden of grudges and hatred. You wanted to forgive Roman, the best you could, and leave him and his faults to fester in the past while you moved on with your life. 

So, you pushed the door open wider with the tips of your fingers and walked back to the kitchen, while Roman eagerly followed. 

“I’ll have to find every vase in the house for these,” You quietly joked.

“I could buy a big vase to hold them tomorrow and send it over if you’d like?” He was following closer than you would have liked as you searched the cabinets for vases and empty jars. 

“No, it’s alright. I think I’ll like how eclectic they’ll look in mismatched glasses.” You said, “And then I could put them all around the house. It’ll be a nice surprise for my mom when she gets home.” 

You undid the thick satin ribbon holding the bouquet together and found a pair of scissors to cut off the ends.

“Want me to fill these with water?” Roman asked, nodding to the empty vases.

“If you don’t mind.” 

Roman nodded, shedding his wool jacket and blazer, depositing it on a chair. Then, rounding the island to stand next to you to begin filling each receptacle from the sink. 

He was closer to you now than he had been in months. You could smell his woody cologne that clung to his skin, mixed with cigarette smoke and the night air. He must have been driving with the top down. You hated that only his scent could send your heart into somersaults and make your hands quiver with need. All you could think about with him in such a proximity was looking up into his green eyes and him looking down into your (Y/E/C) ones. Looking down at you with that stupid fucking smirk. Then with that smirk, Roman would place a hand on your cheek and gently press it to your lips and you would be in heaven. 

Anything Roman did to you was heaven. 

Expect when he was hurting you. Which you had to remind yourself, he very much did. 

“So, where’s your mom?” Roman asked, placing a mason jar next to faux crystal vase.

“In Florida with her new boyfriend.” You commented. 

“Yeah, I heard she was seeing someone.” 

“You know if he’s any good?” 

“Nah, just that she was seeing someone. I keep an ear to the ground to make sure she’s doing alright.” Another glass filled. 

“You don’t have to do that, Roman.” You paused cutting stems for a moment to glance up at him. 

He was already looking at you. 

“I know. I want to. It’s the least I can do.”     

You hold eye contact for a few beats, Roman’s eyes boring into yours in that hyponic way that always left you weak in the knees. 

“Well, thank you. I appreciate it.” And you both went back to your tasks at hand. 

It was obvious that you were more than willing to work in silence, and it was clear that Roman wasn’t. 

“So… how’s NYU?” He prompts. 

“Good. I really like it.” 

“Enjoying your studies?” 

“Very much.” 

“And the city? Is it treating you alright?” 

“Yes, I think after I graduate I’ll stay for a while.” 

Roman only hums in reply. Like that wasn’t what he wanted to hear.

“Well, I’m happy to hear that you’re doing well.” 

“Thank you.”

The conversation lulls as the sound of water and sheers fill the room. 

Roman is chewing his cheek and bobbing his head, and you know he won’t let up his chatter anytime soon. 

“I’ve been working at The Tower. I took over a few months ago.” He says, eyes darting to you like he was looking for praise. 

“Oh,” You reply like you hadn’t already figured it out, “How’s that going?” 

“Fine. I mean, it’s a lot of work. A lot of stress, but I’m glad I’m doing it.” He sounds unconvincing as he rambles on about Godfrey Industries and Pryce’s lab while you focus on the flowers. 

“Do you ever wonder what you would be doing if you hadn’t been told your entire life that you would take over Godfrey?” You ask, somewhat out of the blue.

Roman stops talking abruptly, his hands pausing under the tap. 

“Not really.” 

“Isn’t there anything else you would have wanted to do? Like in a dream scenario in a perfect world?” You elaborate. 

Roman seems unsettled by your questioning, like these were things no one had ever asked him. Things he had never even asked himself. 

“I think in a dream scenario, I would be rich beyond my wildest dreams. And I already am, so why waste time dreaming?” You can tell he isn’t even satisfied with his answer.

You don’t reply, leaving the subject where it lay in the air to go back to working in silence. 

“So...” Roman begins again, refusing to let the conversation die down.

“You seeing anyone?” Roman tries to sound blase, but you know this question lays heavy on him. 

You barely withhold a scoff as you set your scissors down to look at him once more.

He double takes in your direction, not wanting to look at you for fear of your answer, “What?” 

“I’m just surprised you held off this long without asking the question we both know you wanted to ask the second you saw me.” 

“Not really an answer…” he murmurs. 

“Not really your business.” You counter. 

“So there is someone?” You could hear a twinge of anger in his voice. 

“Not that it is any of your business, because I want to stress that it really isn’t, but no. I am not seeing anyone.” 

“Oh.” Roman’s lip twitches into a smile that he tries to conceal from you. 

“Yeah, oh.” You roll your eyes and finish with your clippings and begin to arrange the rose into glasses. 

“Aren’t you going to ask me?” Roman, with his work now over, turns to look down at you, a smirk on his lips. 

“Ask you what?” 

“If I’m seeing anyone.” 

“I don’t care, Roman.” 

“Really?” He leans closer to you.

“Well, what constitutes seeing someone, to you? A one night stand? A hooker? An actual multiple date relationship? What is your definition?” You jeer. 

“How would you define it?” 

“Different from you.” 

“Oh come on,” He pokes, “Tell me.”

He was becoming far too chummy with you for your taste.

“I guess I would define it as multiple dates.” 

“By that definition, then no. I’m not seeing anyone.” 

“But if I defined it by hookers and one night stands?” You inquired. 

Roman doesn’t answer. 

You can’t help but laugh, “And you said I was a whore.” 

The air between you changes, then. It was calm, if not slightly awkward before then, but now it felt tense and uncomfortable.

“(Y/N), I…” 

“Don’t.” You reply before he can say anything else. 

“But I want to say this, I need to.” Roman persists, reaching out to grab your shoulder. 

You shrug off his advance quickly and take a few steps back from him. Roses and vases completely forgotten. 

“I need to apologize to you.”

“You need to apologize to me for what, Roman?”

“For that night, what I said-!” Roman starts. 

“No. What I mean is, are you apologizing because you’re actually sorry? Because you think that’s what you’re supposed to say to me? Or because you want what you did off your conscious?” You raise a single eyebrow. 

“Are you kidding? I’m saying this because I am fucking sorry! I hate what I said to you, it fucking eats me up!” Roman throws his hand in the air as he yells. 

“So it is option C.” You replied. 

“Jesus fucking- no! It’s not! It’s A! It’s fucking A. You think I wanted to do what I did? Huh? You think I wanted you to leave?” 

“Yes, I did. I do.”

“Then fuck you if you think that. Fuck you if you think that I wanted to say all those things. Maybe you don’t really know me at all.” Roman sneers. 

“I already concluded that.” 

He scoffs.

“Is this why you wanted to come in? Force me into conversation? Ask me if I’m dating anyone, give me a half assed apology and insult me?” You crossed your arms. 

“No! No, that’s not why I asked to come in.” Roman shot back. 

“Then why?” 

“Because I fucking missed you, alright? I fucking missed you and I needed to be near you, even if only for a moment.” 

Roman’s voice echoed in the kitchen, his words hanging in the air and ringing in your ears. You could hear them dance in your mind and slide down your back with a chill, taunting you and making your emotions tear in a million different directions.

“Roman, I think it’s time for you to leave.” You say, running your tongue over your teeth. 

“No! I’m not fucking leaving. Tell me you don’t miss me too.” Roman took a step toward you as he ran a hand through his slicked down hair, ruining it’s perfection. 

“I have to get up early, so I just really think you should go.” 

“(Y/N), tell me you don’t miss me and I’ll leave right now. You’ll never see me again, I swear.” 

You don’t respond, just cross your arms over your chest. You rub your hands over the skin of your arms, peaking your fingers beneath your shirtsleeves and gripping the fabric tightly. 

“Just tell me.”

You meet his gaze as Roman closes the gap between the two of you. He was close enough for you to feel his breath on your skin and the warmth he radiated. An unwarranted chill set through you. 

All hope of forgetting the past and moving on was gone, you didn’t care anymore. All you wanted was for Roman to leave. You wanted him to leave so you could wrap yourself in blankets and cry until you couldn’t see anymore.

“Roman, just go.” You whispered, your vocal chords straining to even do that. 

“It’s because you can’t say that you don’t.” Roman raised a hand a single finger tracing the features of your face and causing your eyes to drift shut. 

He traced your orbital bone and the angle of your nose and your eyebrow and ear. He traced your jaw and your chin and the shape of your ear and stopped to caress your lips. 

With each swoop of his finger tip, he was erasing hurt and anguish and pain. He was soothing you and giving you an old form of intimacy that you had craved. He was regaining his sense of self in your mind, reminding you that he could act like he had before that night. He was twining his roots back into your mind.

When his finger finally stopped, you opened your eyes and saw tears had gathered in Roman’s. They were threatening to breech from his lash line as he stared at you with a drumming heart. 

“Tell me why you hurt me first.” 

And Roman dropped his hand and said nothing for a long moment. 

“It’s a long story.” He replies, sniffling loudly through his nose. 

“I’ve got time.” 

“It’s not pretty.” 

“I don’t care.”

You had moved to the dining room for Roman’s story. You both sat on opposite ends of your mother’s old mosaic table that you had both eaten many meals at. It was covered in vintage tiles and you picked at the surrounding grout as you listened to him. You ground your fingernails between the titles, filing them into powder as Roman told you about his birthday and everything that had happened since the night you left him. 

Of Letha. Of the child. Of the razor blades embedded into his arms. Of his mother’s tongue. Of the bloodlust. 

Of the loss.

“This is some fucking Twilight bullshit.” You said once Roman had gone quiet.

“This isn’t fucking funny, (Y/N).” Roman replied, bouncing his knee and pinching his chin. 

“No, it’s not fucking funny at all, Roman. Not even a bit, but it is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard in my life.” You snort a laugh from your nose. 

“You don’t believe me?” 

“Oh, I believe you. After all that shit with Peter, of course I believe you. Doesn’t make it any less ridiculous.” 

Roman raises his eyebrows in understanding with a slight nod. 

“So, what? You saying all that shit to me was because you thought you were going to suck me dry, or something?” 

“Stop making jokes.” He growled. 

“I’m being fucking serious, Roman! What was it?” You stood from your chair to impose over him. 

“You deserved better. It would have been too much for you.” 

“Oh, don’t be such a martyr, Roman!” You fumed, “Since when have you ever got to decide what was good and what was bad for me?” 

“You don’t understand!” Roman pushed up from his chair with such force it tumbled to the floor, “I could barley fucking handle this, OK? I had been living a lie, I had become a monster overnight! I was fucking scared for you- scared for me. What I could do-” 

His voice began to quiver and his palms shook as he wiped his clammy palms on his slacks. 

“You would either have left me or I would have killed you. I don’t doubt that for a second, and I couldn’t lose anyone else. Not after Letha, not after Peter and Shelley. I just couldn’t.” 

“So, pushing me away was the answer?” You asked. 

“At the time, yes.”

You just shook your head, and collapsed back into your chair.

“I did it because I loved you.” Roman said, tears streaking his flushed cheeks. 

“Stop, Roman...” 

“I fucking loved you so much so I made you leave. I fucking love you more than anything.”

He spoke like he was taking his last breath and collapsed to his knees like a dying man, his bones smacking loudly against the linoleum as he crawled to you, tears still leaking from his eyes. 

“You have to believe that I’m sorry. I am, I am, I am.” 

Roman rested his head on your lap as he wept, his hands clutching your calves. 

You felt like you couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think or speak. All your mind could comprehend was Roman’s deep and encompassing sadness and his wayward soul. 

You could barely grasp the story he told, so it was unimaginable to you how it must have felt to live it. Your heart ached for him so profoundly. 

Of course you didn’t agree with what he had done to you, not for a moment. He had resorted to cruelty out of fear and you hated it. It was inexcusable. 

But, you folded yourself in half and covered his body with yours anyway, and let Roman cry in your lap. You let him cry out the fear and sadness and the exhaustion he had felt these past months. 

You had let Roman cry himself dry before escorting him to the door. He held your hand on the way and you didn’t stop him. When you reached the door, Roman was the one to open it and step out into the cold Pennsylvania night. Though, his hand stayed intertwined with your own as he walked out onto your porch.  

“What time is the funeral?” He asked. 

“10 AM.” You replied. 

His skin seemed to glow against the night sky, his milky complexion contrasting beautifully to the dark nature behind him. 

“I’ll be there.” 

You shook your head, but squeezed his hand, “You don’t have to, really. It’s going to be long and boring.” 

“(Y/N),” He looked at you with a crisp sincerity, “I’ll be there.” 

You didn’t know what to say, because you weren’t entirely sure what you should say. You wanted to beg him not to come and make a spectacle at his attendance. You wanted to beg him to come and hold your hand and ward off the demons your father had sewn into your psyche. 

“Please, Roman, it’s not a big deal. I swear. I’m sure you have better things to do.” 

He pursed his lips back at you, like he was deciding if arguing with you on the matter was really worth it. Or if he would win or not. In the end, he said nothing. Just nodded and glanced over to his bright red Jaguar in the driveway. 

When Roman looked back to you, you both knew a goodbye wasn’t needed. Your love-telepathy coming back just for a moment to bid each other adidu for the night. An intimacy you didn’t even know you missed until now. 

Roman was the first to step away, pulling your hands apart as he did. You felt each finger detangle from his own, until your pinkies were the only things tethering you to each other. When they detached, your hand fell listlessly to your side and Roman watched you intently as he walked to his car, got in, and pulled from your drive away. Only looking away when he finally drove into the night. 

You smoothed the dress over your hips as you smiled politely at guests entering the church. They offered you watery smiles and condolences as they spread out into the pews.

You wanted to spit in their faces and scream. Scream and sink your nails into your skin and tell them that he had painted bruises on your skin and installed his hatred for you into your heart before you were old enough to know it was wrong. 

He wasn’t a good man. He was far from it. 

But no one who was crying tears for him and shaking your hand knew this, and if they did they didn’t care. He was good at hiding what he did, what he had become. 

You felt like your head was in a fish bowl with the more people who entered. Their faces blurring and distorting before you, their words muffled and useless. You began just nodding at everyone’s words, refusing to listen to anything else they had to say about Heaven and God’s good will. You wished you had a good excuse to leave and never come back. 

It wasn’t until someone wheeled in the casket that you found your escape from the line of mourners and made your way outside. Because the second you laid eyes on the box of shiny mahogany, your stomach dropped to your feet and bile threatened to spill from your lips. 

The man you had hated your entire life, the one who had hurt you, the one who struck you, the one who had belittled you, the man who hurt your mother. That man was dead. He was in that fucking box, seperated from you and the living by a few inches of wood.

That man was your father and he was supposed to love you and now he was filled with stuffing and had waxy skin covered in blush and a heart that would never beat again. A mouth that was sewn shut and would never speak again. To never yell, to laugh, to tell you he loved you. 

It was over. 

Then why were you so sad? 

Maybe Peter was right... maybe you’d even tell him. 

As you made your way outside, you sucked in as much fresh air as your lungs could take. You let the cold air chill your exposed skin and the grey skies calm your overstimulated senses. While gulping in the breeze and pressing your fingernails to your palms to ground yourself, you gazed out over the parking lot. It was then, that you shed your first tears of the day.

Because there, all in black leaning against his car was Roman Godfrey, looking right back at you.

He’d come. 

Because he cared. 

Because he loved you. 

You didn’t think twice as he ran down the church steps as fast as your heels could take you to him, needing to feel him. Roman did the same, rushing across the asfalte to you, wrapping you in his arms immediately as you collided with his chest. 

“You came,” You sobbed into his button down, “You came, you came, you came.” 

“Of course I did.” He cooed, nuzzling close to you. 

“I needed you and you knew and you came.” 

“I’ll always come, even when you don’t call.” 

As you both went back to the church, Roman stood with you to greet people coming in. His hand on your lower back and his grandiose stature and expression keeping people from dawdling too long to speak with you. 

The service was bleak and full of lies, but you mustered through it without a scoff or outburst for your grandparents sake. Roman sat next to you the entire time, his arm over your shoulder and his temple resting against your head. He’d occasionally place a gentle kiss to your hairline or stroke his fingers over your arm as a reminder that he was with you. 

And you loved him for it.

When it was all over and your father’s casket was being rolled away, everyone dispersed. Some to follow the hearse to the graveyard, some to just go home. You and Roman stayed in your seats. You had decided you didn’t want to see your father put in the ground. Not because he didn’t deserve it, but because you couldn’t handle it. You weren’t sure exactly all the reasons why, maybe Peter would know the answer to that, too.

You both waited until no one was left in the church, just watching the sun gleam through the stained glass windows at the ceiling and enjoying each other's company. 

“You alright?” Roman asked once he was sure everyone was gone. 

“I don’t know. I’m still figuring that out, I guess.” You said with a half hearted shrug. 

“It’s OK. You have time.” 

You gave a nod before leaning closer to him, resting your head underneath his own, letting Roman sit his chin on your crown. 

“I thought I would be overjoyed when this day finally came… but I’m not. I’m not really happy and I’m not really sad. I’m just here.”

“I think that’s just fine.” Roman replied, rubbing gentle up and down your arm. 

“Thank you for being here.” You remove yourself from under his chin to look at him, “It would have been so much worse without you.” 

Roman offered you a soft smile and placed his unoccupied hand on your cheek. 

You placed your own hand over his and shut your eyes, reveling in his soft touch. 

It was so quiet and all you could hear was the sound of your heart in your ears and Roman’s rhythmic breathing.

“What now?” 

“I’m not sure,” You open your eyes to see he’s already looking at you, “Where are you going?” 

“Wherever you are.” 

You smile, “Then take me there.” 

As you walked through Roman’s front door, you tried to hide a frown. The old Godfrey mansion had been so intricate and full of character. With crown molding and warm golds and rich browns, and history in every nook and cranny. Roman’s new home… it was sterile and bland and grey. It felt cold even with the hum of the radiator. It felt large and imposing, much like it’s owner. It was the type of home that echoed with loneliness.   

“So, what do you think?” Roman asked from where he stood close behind you. 

“I like it,” You said, “It’s very…” 

“You hate it.” 

You turned to face him and he was looking at you fondly. 

“I wouldn’t say hate. Just, not my style.” 

He nods and takes a step forward, “Yeah, I sort of knew you wouldn’t like it.” 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. You always loved the old house. Said it felt like you were in a  victorian novel.” 

Your heart fluttered in your chest at his memory, “And you always hated it.” 

“I wouldn’t say hate. Just, not my style.” He grins at you and you can’t help but smile back at him. 

“So, you decided when you moved out you’d make your new place the antithesis of it?” 

“Something like that. Anything to erase the memory of my mother.” Roman says this with the cadence of a joke, but his eyes darken at the mention of Olivia. 

“I can’t say I blame you.” You reply before he quickly changes the subject. 

“Have a seat and I’ll make us both a drink,” He says, gesturing toward his large loveseat in the living room. 

You do so, and as you sit down, you admire him standing over the wet bar. He had shed his blazer from his suit on the kitchen table, and through the fabric of his button down (an expensive silk blend from the looks of it) you could so the movement of his broad shoulders and the expanse of the muscles in his back. 

The memory of running your hands across the peaks and valleys of his back stuck you. The memory of his smooth skin under your palms made your fingers burn with yearning and twitch with need to reacquaint yourself with the velvet that was Roman Godfrey’s skin.  

Roman had finished making your drinks. Both crimson in crystal tumblers. He walked to you and handed you the beverage, which you accepted with a thank you. As you took your first sip of your drink, you couldn't help but smile as Roman sat down next to you on his couch. 

“Vodka cranberry?” 

“Like I’d forget your favorite drink,” He says, smiling against the rim of his tumbler, “Well, second favorite. I don’t really have the ingredients for a Long Island iced tea.” 

“I think this works better under the circumstances, anyway. Drinking a Long Island iced tea after a funeral feels a little morbid.” 

“Yeah, but your dad would’ve hated that you were drinking one.” Roman pointed out. 

You chuckled, because he was right. Your father hated drinks where the alcohol was masked by chasers and sugar. He deemed them feminine and embarrassing for anyone to drink, ridiculing anyone (no matter their gender) if they ordered one. 

“That is true,” You take a pull from your glass, “He would have hated that you went to his funeral, too. Because, well he hated you.” 

Roman gives a wide smirk, “I can’t say that doesn't bring me some joy.” 

You could count on one hand the number of times your father met Roman during the years you dated. Though, everytime he had, he made his distinct dislike for your boyfriend overwhelmingly obvious. He thought of Roman like most other people in town did. A spoiled, rich, entitled, sauve asshole. But, for your father, he felt like he had a personal stake in hating Roman. He masqueraded like he didn’t like Roman simply for dating his daughter, but he didn’t give a shit about you or your well being. Your father, the pathetic drunk that he was, was threatened by Roman more than any man you had ever met. He was the one person who he couldn’t intimidate and feel superior too, because Roman didn’t feel intimidated or lesser to anyone in the world. 

“Me too.” 

You both drink in silence for a moment, and you pretend not to notice Roman as he inched closer to you on the cushions. 

“Do you remember,” Roman says, swallowing a gulp of his drink, “that time we snuck into that club in Philadelphia? And you and Letha, just got, like absolutely abliderated on Long Island iced teas?” 

You smiled at the memory, your lips parting with glee the more you remembered about the night. 

“Yes! Oh my God, I had totally forgot about that.”

Roman had paid off some bouncer to let the three of you into some club downtown and it had been a spectacular night. You and Letha were guzzling drinks like it was the end of the world. Roman was only encouraging your recklessness with jokes and bankrolling the bottomless teas. Letha had danced on the bar top while singing you an off key Elton John song while you drunkenly squealed with glee in a hysterical Roman’s arms. You had never seen Roman laugh so much until that night. 

You all danced and drank and laughed and smiled. You had all hid in a corner as you had fished out cocaine from a baggy with your pinky nail, and held it to each Godfrey’s nose like you were giving them communion, before blessing yourself. 

You distinctly remember hanging off Roman like a kola most of the night. Giving him sloppy kisses and groping him in the crowd with whispered promises of more when you were alone. You remember him smiling down at you and always having a hand on your ass. You remember Letha’s happy screams and giggles and how she was twirling so much on the dance floor she tumbled. 

“That was a really good night.” You said. 

Roman nodded, “It was. It was one of those rare times I could get Letha out of her shell.” 

The mood dipped from happy memories to grief as his cousin's untimely death was remembered. It was written clear as day on Roman’s face that he was far from healed from her passing.

“I miss her, too.” You placed a hand on his. 

“Yeah. Life isn’t far, huh?” You saw he was trying to ward off a wash of emotion, not wanting to wallow in her death, because it wasn’t an easy pit to push himself out of. 

“No, it really isn’t.” 

If life was fair, Olivia would have been long deceased. Roman wouldn’t have ever been coerced to do any heinous acts. Letha would be alive. Shelley would have never vanished. 

You didn’t dare bring up his missing sister to Roman, because that pain was almost worse than the wound Letha’s death had inflicted. For the both of you. 

You had learned from Peter the previous day that Shelley was still missing with no leads in finding her. You had nodded but said nothing else and he had let you. 

You had always been close with Shelley. She was so kind and sweet, and incredibly understanding and thoughtful. You were the only two women Roman truly loved and that bonded you in a way, to be the only ones to have his unfettered devotion. The thought of Shelley, out in the world alone, scared and labeled a fugitive made you sick. You couldn’t think about it for long without your nausea sparking and tears forming in your eyes. 

“What I said to you… that night? That wasn’t fair either. It wasn’t fair of me to hurt you like that.” Roman says, his eyes cast down. 

“Roman, we don’t have to do this again. It’s fine, no worries.” You said as casually as possible. 

“No, but it really wasn’t,” Roman shakes his head and rotates his body toward you. 

“I said those things because I was scared, not because they were true. You have to know that.” 

You swallow thickly and nod. Rationally, you knew that was true. After Roman had explained to you yesterday the reason for his vicious one-eighty toward you, you knew that he was only being cruel to push you away. But the words still hurt, they were still brutal enough to feel like there was an ounce of truth to them. 

“I was wrong, I can see that now, yknow? I was really wrong for all of that,” Roman lamented, “I fucked up.

“I’m sorry, (Y/N). That’s what I really want to say, what I really want you to know. And you know me, probably better than anyone in the world, maybe even more than I know myself,” He huffed a laugh, “And you know that I don’t apologize. Because I’m not wrong. I’m just not. I don’t say I’m sorry, not to anyone… but this, I gotta own up to. Because I was wrong for hurting you, pushing you away.”

You listened to Roman with baited breath. 

“You were the only person who ever really saw me. Looked into my eyes and saw past the bullshit and accepted me, loved me… and the idea of you hating me forever killed me, fucking killed me so much. But it was better than you sticking around and seeing that all that bullshit was true, and maybe I was even worse.” 

“Roman,” You rasped, gripping his hand tighter, your fingernails biting into his skin. 

“I promised to never hurt you, to protect you, keep you safe. And I failed.” 

Roman had always been protective of his loved ones. He hoarded them like a dragon with gold, prowling in front of them with bared teeth and spitting fury. You still remember the first time he pledged his devotion to you, his undying protection and loyalty. 

It was after the first time he had met your father. A dinner at the Godfrey mansion with your parents, Olivia, Shelley, yourself and Roman. It was an evening requested by Olivia to meet the parents of the girl who had bewitched her son. 

She had been her typical elitist self, turning her nose up at your middle class parents with joy. You were sure she was vibrating in her seat with happiness that she could feel so superior to your average parents. Likely hoping Roman would see this too, and kick you to the curb. 

You mother had been aimable, mostly quiet. You always thought of your mother as a very charming woman, who could talk to anyone no matter the circumstance. But, Olivia would barely let her get a word in, so she took the hint. Though, you could tell Shelley liked her, and that warmed your heart. 

The night’s conversation was dominated by Olivia for the most part, regaling the Godfrey wealth and stories of her privileged life. When she wasn’t boasting about herself, your father would be the one to chime in. Either with an offensive comment or with his poor table manners. It was like having a wild boar in the Shangri La and you felt your face heat with consistent humiliation. You could see your mother twitch uncomfortably across from you whenever he would act, and you knew she was in the same boat. 

You were already planning your apology to Roman when your father spoke up. You had been too busy stewing in your mortification to follow the conversation being had at the time. 

“Well, I tell you something, Roman. This one over here,” Your father stuck his fork over to you, “Isn’t gonna be a good little wife, not like your mother is.” 

Your father threw a smarmy grin to Olivia.

“You’re gonna have to wipe her into shape. Always wants to back talk and cross her damn arms and stomp her damn feet at you.”

Your father laughs and nuges your mother with his elbow, like he had made a joke. Like he thought this joke about you as Roman’s meek little wife would please Olivia and your boyfriend. 

Olivia laughed along and made a comment about her predisposition to wifehood because of her upbring, while Roman seethed. You could see his jaw flexing and hear the sound of his ragged breaths through his nose. You discreetly placed your hand on his lap, doing your best to calm him, but it did nothing as your father continued to make comments about your disrespectful personality, all with the cadence of a joke. 

“Why don’t you go out for a smoke?” Roman said to your father through gritted teeth. 

“Excuse me?” You father said, stopping mid sentence and glaring at Roman. 

“I said, why don’t you go out for a smoke and cool off? And when you come back, be a little fucking nicer?” 

Roman’s eyes bore into your father’s as he spoke. Your father looked furious at this teenage boy’s demand, and you were sure there was going to be a fight. Both men were incredibly hot headed, that this evening might even end in a physical altercation. But, your father just pushed up from the table and left the five of you in awkward silence. Roman relaxed once your father was gone, taking your hand from his lap and intertwining your fingers together on the tabletop. Your mother soon struck up a conversation with Olivia about the antique chaise lounge in the living room. 

Roman held your hand for the rest of the night. When your father returned, he stayed silent. 

When it was time for your parents to leave, Roman offered to drive you home. Though, the minute both you were out of sight of his home and your parents, he pulled over.

“Roman, I am so sorry about-” You began, but Roman stopped you by placing his hands firmly on your cheeks. 

“Don’t apologize. Not for that fucking man.” He said, his tone turning venomous when he mentioned your father. 

“The fucking nerve of him,” Roman spat, his hands tightening on your face, “The fucking nerve of him to speak like that about you. And to me! To me in my fucking home. I’m going to kill him, I’ll fucking kill him.” 

Roman spoke sincerely and you wondered for a moment if you asked him to kill your father, would he? 

“He’s not worth it, he’s not even worth your anger.” You sighed, placing your hand on his wrist and stroking his skin with your thumb. 

“He isn’t worth shit. That fucking cunt.” 

You couldn’t help but giggle as you watched your boyfriend speak obscenities. 

“What?” 

“You look very sexy when you’re this mad.” 

You could see Roman’s face visibly relax. You knew he was still angry, but your comment had placated him.     

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” You grinned at him and began to lean in for a kiss when Roman stopped you. 

You looked into his eyes again and you saw this serious demoaner was back. 

“I will never let him say anything like what he said tonight to you again, OK? Never. I’ll never let him fucking touch you again,” Roman came to rest his forehead to yours, “I won’t let anyone hurt you ever again. I will keep you safe forever.” 

And you believed him. You believed him more than you had ever believed a single person in your life. There wasn’t an ounce of you in that moment that could argue with him. You trusted him fully. 

“Ok.” Was all you could say with the emotion that was brewing from his confession, before he finally pulled you to his lips. 

It was the first time you realized you loved him. 

“All I have ever wanted is to keep you safe.” He said it with the same vigor and sincerity that he had in his original vow to you in his car on the side of the road. 

And again, you couldn’t help but believe him. 

“I forgive you.” You really did. 

He was swathing you with the salve of love and honesty, healing the wounds he carved into your skin with his earnest. 

“You were scared, you had just had your life turned upside down… I get it. It’s OK. I’m not blameless either. I said some nasty things.” 

Roman looks up from where your hands are connected and gives you a signature fierce stare.

The weight of his gaze on you feels heavy as he leans forward to set his glass on the coffee table. His eyes never leave yours as he does. As he moves back to the couch, he uses his movement to his advantage to seamlessly reach out to cup your jaw, as he settled back next to you, much closer than before. 

Goosebumps bit across your flesh as the feeling of his broad palm engulfed your face and his breath began to fan across your lips. Roman was smooth, he was graceful and agile in everything he did. Everything including the set up to a kiss, especially a long awaited and important one. 

Roman glides his middle and forefinger up to cradle your ear, to anchor himself to you before using his thumb on the underside of your jaw to tilt your chin. You blood was rushing loudly through your ears and all you could think of was him as Roman’s other arm came to rest across the back of the sofa and ecase you in his arms. He ran his tongue across his bottom lip before he descended for yours. 

And you felt euphoric. A warmth in the pit of your stomach that only Roman would kindle.

Roman nuzzled his lips against your mouth, the tip of his nose brushing your own. Your hands migrated to lay purchase on his shoulders as you let Roman pull you impossibly close to his body. You could feel his heated cheeks against your face and you could feel his racing pulse beneath your fingers as he tipped your face up and opened his mouth into the kiss. His tongue dipped past your lips and you accepted him with a soft whimper. 

Your sound of pleasure surged Roman on as he began to kiss you harder. Sweeter. Messier. Hotter. Just like he always had. 

Soon, you were flat against the couch cushions, Roman above you as his hands explored your body. Your legs bracketed his hips, pushing the heels of your feet against the tops of his thighs to keep him snug against you. Your hands clutched his back tightly, the very same back you had been craving to get your hands on since you walked through the door. 

Roman’s lips detached from your own to drift to your cheeks, your jaw and your neck. To bite, to suck and lick with his sinful tongue. You keened and moaned at his attentions, your back arching into him. The spit he left in his wake met the air in a chilling exchange that cooled your fiery skin. 

“My baby,” He said to your skin. 

“My girl,” He groaned. 

“Mine,” He bit the junction of your neck and shoulder. 

“Mine, mine, mine,” 

You didn’t want to be present while listening to his possessions. You wanted to let them grip you and own you and continue to make your stomach flutter. You didn’t want to have to tell Roman right now that you didn’t know if you could be his again…

“You’re mine, always, always, always,” Roman moaned against you, his voice pornographically seductive. 

“Yes, please,” You didn’t know what you were begging for, but you just knew you didn’t want the feeling of Roman to stop. 

“It’s me and you, we’re together again, it’ll all be OK now,” He says before giving you another sloppy kiss. 

“Be with me, be here. We can make it work.” 

Roman goes back to attacking your neck with his petal soft lips, but you were finally snapped from your the haze of pleasure he had accosted you with. 

“Roman, hold on,” You pushed your hands on his shoulder, “Stop.” 

“What?” He pulled away from you quickly, chest heaving as he looked down at you. 

He looked so boyishly innocent. His lips flush from kissing and his once perfect hair askew from your ministrations. Eyes wide and questioning. He was the most beautiful man you had ever seen. 

“I,” You took a pause, “I can’t stay here, Roman. I just can’t.” 

He looked like you’ve shocked him, stuck his finger in an electrical socket and watched. Roman pushed himself further up, but still hovered over you. 

“What do you mean you can’t stay?” He says your words back to you like they were a personal affront. 

“I live in New York now, that���s where my life is. I can’t just leave.” 

Roman’s jaw flexes and you watch him swallow. 

“What? So, this means nothing?” He gestures between your bodies. 

“No, of course not. Of course it means something.” You replied hastily. 

But, Roman was already getting up off of you and started to pace the length of his kitchen. You pushed up to watch him with concern. 

“I don’t know what you want me to do, I said I was sorry and I am. I really, truly am! So, why can’t you just stay with me? Be with me?” He argued. 

“I know you are! I do, but just because I know you’re sorry doesn’t change the fact that I have a life somewhere else now, Ro. I can’t just abandon it.” 

“Why can’t you? Just come home!” Roman threw his arms up in anger. 

“I don’t want to abandon it, Roman. I don’t want to leave. I like it there.” You move yourself onto your knees as you speak. 

“Jesus fucking-” Roman looked away from you and tugs at his hair, “I can’t believe you right now!” 

“Roman,” You sigh. 

“No! You know what? I have been declaring my fucking love for you for the past two days and that just means nothing to you? Because it doesn’t mean nothing to me.” 

“It means something-!” You begin, but Roman talks over you. 

“And that, that on the couch, that fucking meant something to me! Because you mean something to me, (Y/N). You always have and you always will.” He’s shouting now, if he had any neighbors you’re sure they would be able to hear. 

Your eyes filmed with tears as you watch him. 

“And fuck, while I’ve been going on like a bitch about how I love you, how I’m devoted to you, and you haven’t said shit! Not a word.” Roman’s eyes are beginning to wet as well. 

“Is that what this is? You don’t fucking love me?” His anger cracks as his voice quivers. 

“Roman, no!” You spring from where you knelt on the couch and rush to him, “I do, you know I do. I love you! I love you so much I ache.” 

You cry freely now as you try to clutch his face, but Roman brushes you off. 

“I love you, I have always loved you Roman. I always will. But,” 

“But what? How is that not enough!”

“I need you to love me enough to know there is nothing for me here.”

“Not even me?” His lip quivers. 

“You know that’s not what I meant,” Your hands shake and so does your breath, “I mean there is not real life for me here. You have The Tower and that’s you life, but what about me? What could I possibly do here that would make me happy?”

Roman says nothing, just swallows a hiccup that threatened to burst from his throat.

“I need you to love me enough to let me leave.”

Roman’s face crumbles into a drastic frown as he fights tears, “I can’t. I can’t do that, not again, I can’t. I can’t let you leave again.” 

“Baby,” You choke out. 

“No! I can’t, I love you. So, please, just love me enough to stay. I’ll give you everything you could ever want, anything you could ever dream of to make it better here.”

“Roman, I love you. I do, I always will. But, maybe this will be good for us. Have time apart to be our own people. I think it might even be healthy?” You say your last words with a watery smile that Roman doesn’t return. 

“I don’t want to have time apart. I had time apart from you and I was fucking miserable.” He states. 

The thought of Roman all alone in this house, heartbroken and stewing in pity and anger makes your heart convulse with pain. You thought of all the nights you slept in your dorm room, silent tears streaking your cheeks as you held your hand over your mouth in hopes to not wake your roommate. You wondered if on the nights you cried for him, if Roman had cried for you? Had he cried at all? Or while you were pouring yourself into your studies to forget him, he was fucking whores to forget you?

“Roman, please just… I love you, just please,” Again, you had no idea what you were begging for. For him to let you leave? For him to convince you to stay? All you knew was that this day had been so catosphroticlly emotionally draining and all you wanted was to fall into his arms for comfort.

“Do you want to be apart from me?” He asked bluntly. 

“Roman, just-” 

“Answer me. Do you want to be apart from me anymore?” 

Your mouth was thick with discarded tears and phlegm. All you could do was look at him and hope he understood you. To tell him you didn’t. 

His eyes softened and you knew your mental tether was still intact. 

Roman takes a step toward you and moves his head to be level with your own, “Then we’ll make this work. I’ll convince NYU to let you take online classes from here, OK? I’ll build them some new buildings - hell! A new campus. I’ll be their new biggest donor, their new favorite fucking person. I’ll give them whatever they want as long as they give me you in return.” 

“I can’t ask you to do that, Roman.” You look down at your feet. 

“You’re not asking. I’m offering.” 

You pierce your teeth into your bottom lip and look back up at him. Back at Roman with his pink, glossy eyes and hopeful gaze. 

“I love the city…” 

“Then we’ll fly up every weekend, no exceptions. I’ll buy us a loft in the heart of Manhattan.You can design it to your heart’s content. Make it will feel warm and old and us. The opposite of this place.” Roman says quickly like he knew that would be your next rebuttal. 

You gasp a sob and close your eyes tight. You feel Roman close the distance between you both and cup your face in his large hands. 

“And we will figure the rest out, whatever else is holding you back. We’ll find you your dream job or your passion or whatever you want.” 

You crack your pulsing eyes, to see Roman’s face now streaked with tears. 

“Just tell me you’ll stay.”

You knew this was a risk. You knew he was a risk. You knew leaving New York and NYU sounded naive and utterly foolish to someone on the outside of your and Roman’s relationship. You knew that you would fight with him, that you would get angry with him, that he’d work too much and that he would have to reschedule trips to the city. You knew you would get irritated with each other and you’d say something snarky and Roman would say something mean. You knew there would be nights you went to bed angry and days where you gave each other the silent treatment. You knew it would be hard. Most things involving Roman were. Expect loving him.

You knew that even with all the bad that came with a relationship with Roman, it was eons better than being without him for a moment longer now that you had him again. 

You had wanted to look to the future, to forget the past and forge a new way for yourself. Truthfully, you still did. But maybe you could start over with Roman by your side? Wash away the pain of his indiscretions and learn and grow and heal together? You hoped you could. You hope you weren’t letting your overwhelming love for the man in front of you cloud your judgements. 

So, you placed your hands on his neck and watched his face turn hopeful and said: 

“Ok.”

i really wish i could say i loved this, but i am really on the fence about if this story is even good at all? it was better in my head. but! i hope you enjoyed it anyway and pllsss if you did, gimme some feedback <3 it makes me happy :-)

#i still have other one shots in the works so hopefully those are better than this! #also prompts will be opening soon (: #roman godfrey #roman godfrey x reader #roman godfrey imagine #roman godfrey imagines #roman godfrey fanfic #roman godfrey fanfiction #roman godfrey x you #hemlock grove fanfic #hemlock grove fanfiction #hemlock grove imagine #hemlock grove imagines #bill skarsgård x reader #bill skarsgård fanfiction #bill skarsgård imagine #bill skarsgard imagine #bill skarsgard x reader #stevesharrlngtonswrites

[ratisnotcrying]

Juno Steel and how to pretend you’re fine

Summary: Juno hasn’t had a bad day in a long time. Okay, maybe he has, but not a bad-bad day, not a self-sacrifice-and-gun-fights bad day, not a what-if-I-crash-my-car bad day. He especially hadn’t had an I-need-to-hurt-myself-and-I-don’t-care-who-I-take-with-me kind of bad day.Except today. Today felt like all of those wrapped into one and multiplied by a thousand.

Prompt: “What if I just crash this car and make it all stop?” from prompt-dealer (i think)

Pairings: Peter Nureyev/Juno Steel 

Warnings: canon typical suicidal thoughts/ suicidal tendancies, mentions of car crashes, intrusive thoughts, previous minor character death

Word count: 1.6K

A/N: this is cross posted on ao3 - please lmk if i need to add any tags 

~~~

Juno hasn’t had a bad day in a long time. Okay, maybe he has, but not a bad-bad day, not a self-sacrifice-and-gun-fights bad day, not a what-if-I-crash-my-car bad day. He especially hadn’t had an I-need-to-hurt-myself-and-I-don’t-care-who-I-take-with-me kind of bad day. 

Except today. Today felt like all of those wrapped into one and multiplied by a thousand. 

The old Juno would have given in. He would have entertained the idea for all of no time at all and then dived in head first with his eyes wide open. Juno-now (he wasn’t a new Juno, he was just… now, here) still entertained the idea, hell, he might even wonder why he wanted to do whatever it was. But he wouldn’t do it. Probably. 

He definitely wouldn't hurt someone else, no matter what he did. 

~~~

It had started after the last job, which had gone quite spectacularly wrong. 

Juno and Peter hadn’t gone in expecting an easy job - stealing a painting off the wall of a crowded ballroom was obviously going to be difficult - but that had gone off without a hitch, had gone off easier than the last time they did such a heist. No, the real issue came when a different thief had tried to steal a vase and gotten caught. It wasn’t even a nice vase, definitely not nice enough to die over. 

It had turned into a messy hostage situation, Juno’s HCPD training and his own career as professional hostage kicking in as he tried desperately to find a way to get everyone out. 

You can’t save everyone, Juno.

Three civilians and the thief had wound up dead, and more injured than Juno’s guilt ridden brain could count, and by the time he and Peter were back on the Carte Blanche, Juno could barely speak for the shock of what had happened. Neither Buddy nor Peter said anything when Peter debriefed with no input from Juno. 

Buddy did, however, decide to put off selling the painting for a little while, giving everyone some time to relax. This is where Juno’s bad day had started. 

~~~

In the timeless limbo between jobs, it was easy to lose yourself: Rita in her streams with Jet; Buddy and Vespa in their wedding plans, and Peter and Juno in each other. Juno couldn’t help the feeling he was losing himself alone. 

He knows he should have said something to Peter, or Rita, or even Vespa if he was desperate, but he was too busy trying to convince himself had it under control. 

His mind had been racing in loose circles, chasing empty thoughts and half-memories of every time Juno had fucked up, every time he had let someone die, every time he had almost let someone die. 

Benten. Yasmin. Alessandra. 

His head felt heavy with it, weighing him down into a feeling he thought he had long forgotten, numbing him so he couldn’t feel his way out. All he could find in the mess was the handy how-to he had written himself. 

How to pretend your fine when you absolutely, totally are - by Juno Steel

~~~

He had been doing a good job, if he did say so himself. Even if he and the rest of the ship knew that was a lie. 

Rita had been hovering more, not smothering him, just letting him know she was there; Jet never mentioned when Juno came and sat silently with him for a few hours, handing him tools when he asked. Buddy had outright told him that if he wanted to talk then she would always have time, ‘always, darling, just say the word’. Even Vespa had been a little nicer - their typically aggressive banter becoming more like a strangely aggressive therapy. 

And Peter. Peter was Juno’s anchor. He always was. 

But he could only pretend for so long.

~~~

Tonight, Juno wanted to drive - being inside was not helping, and so, from one moment to the next, Juno found himself behind the wheel, Peter in the passenger seat. It was late and Juno couldn't remember what planet they were on anymore. 

The car’s single head light shone dimly on the road in front of them and Juno stared blankly through the windshield, muscle memory alone stopping him from crashing. 

He used to do this, he used to drive for hours, let his numbness fill the car till he forgot he was driving and drifted mentally, drifted physically… 

He wanted to drift today. He wanted to feel weightless. 

The repetitive splashing rounds of the wheels sent Juno spiralling again, an endless list of people he had failed circling through his mind over and over and over again and goddammit he couldn't think, couldn't breathe, he needed it to stop, even if just for a second.

“What if I just crash this car and make it all stop?”

~~~

Peter had noticed the shift in Juno immediately after the job. He had seen his smiles become more strained, his eyes were hazy and unfocussed, movements slowed - as if he was drifting away, moving through a time Peter wasn’t quite in. 

He stayed close to Juno, and when Juno suggested a drive, Peter thought maybe this could be a good time to talk to him. But Juno had said nothing. They had been driving for hours. The suns had set and Juno didn’t seem to be heading home anytime soon, so Peter was about to speak, about to ask Juno what he could do. 

“What if I just crash this car and make it all stop?”

Peter was silent for a second, not quite sure he had heard Juno properly. Juno didn’t even seem aware that he had spoken aloud, nor did he seem to remember Peter was even there. He’s almost certain that the car was speeding up. 

“Juno, can you pull over please, love?”

The car swerved slightly, Juno startled at Peter’s voice, and Peter reached out and grabbed the wheel, pulling them back onto the road, “Juno, you need to pull over.”

The car slowed and, after what felt like a lifetime, came to a stop, a small cloud of dust flying up from under the wheels. 

“I- I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I should be fine.” Juno’s hands were gripped tightly on the wheel in a way that could have only been painful.

“Why don’t we get some fresh air, and then we can talk?”

Slowly, even slower than in the past week, Juno climbed out of the car and sat with Peter on the bonnet, staring up at the sky. 

“I should be fine,” he said again, “I’ve been fine and now… and now I'm not fine!” Juno choked on a sob. God, he hated being vulnerable. 

Peter considered this for a moment, “I know this is going to sound cliche, dear, but you don’t have to be okay. You’re allowed to be sad and angry, and-”

“But I am always angry, Nureyev. Always. I am angry at myself because I keep letting people get hurt and get dead. I’m angry at my mom and I’m angry at every goddamn person I meet and I don’t even know why half the time. There’s just- there’s just rage, and I can control it, better than I could before, but I dont- I dont know if I want to anymore. I just want to let go.”

“Why can’t you let it out, Juno?”

“I’ve done that before. Blind rage is how you get got,” Juno very carefully didn’t look at Peter when he said, “Letting go is how… letting go is how I nearly got myself. I’ve come so close to leaving this place, finally getting some damned rest. I don’t know what kept me here.”

Peter tried not to be too shocked at the almost wistful tone Juno used - they could talk about that another day, for now Peter just prompted, “You’re still here?”

Juno laughed humourlessly, “Yeah, that’s because I always got stupid lucky, and one day that’s gonna bite me in the ass. It was always other people getting got, never me,” He laid back against the windscreen, legs kicking softly at the bumper, “God, I’ve killed so many people.”

“Did you, though? Did you kill them all or did you blame yourself for not being able to do the impossible? Did you blame yourself for not being able to save every single person you met - a task which, I might add, is quite impossible, love.”

He shook his head and kept staring at the stars, looking for answers in the constellations. Peter laid next to him. 

It was a few minutes before Juno broke the silence, “Can we stay here a little while, before we go back?”

Peter would’ve stayed there all night if that’s what Juno needed. 

“Would you tell me a story, Juno? Maybe about someone you saved?” 

Reluctantly, Juno began to tell Peter about an eccentric real estate lawyer and her exploding, tuna-brick-loving cat, absently tracing patterns on the back of Peter’s hand. 

They laid there for almost an hour, but the cool night was interrupted by Peter’s comms beeping twice, signifying a message. 

Is everything okay darling? You’ve been gone a while.

As good as it can be right now. We’ll be back soon. 

“Who’s that?” Juno mumbled sleepily, his gaze shifting to Peter. 

“It was Buddy. Perhaps we should head back to the Carte Blanche.”

Juno nodded, sliding off the car but stopping short halfway to the driverside. 

“Would you like me to drive, dear?.”

Juno looked like he wanted to protest, like he wanted to tell Peter that he wouldn’t actually crash, but instead he just nodded and tossed the keys over the car. 

~~~

Peter knew that they would have to talk properly, they had to talk about Juno trusting him and the rest of their family; they would definitely have to talk about Juno’s allusions to his… more self destructive tendencies. For now, though, Juno dozing on his shoulder, the night road leading them home, would be enough to put both of their minds at rest for the night.

#the penumbra podcast #the penumbra spoilers #a bit #canon typical suicidal thoughts #intrusive thoughts #car crash #mention #car accident #junoverse #juno steel #peter nureyev #lmk if i need to tag anything else