#i have to yell about it SOMEWHERE but if i tell my mom ANY of this she'll just be like

[grimm-writings]

Hiiii, I would like some Dungeon Meshi headcanons please! Reader is the oldest human in the main group and they're really motherly towards them. Like they're always fretting over their well beings and acting like a doting parent. And if you want, could you also add that Chilchuck's kinda into that so he falls for them?

That's all thank you!

…ft! chilchuck x gn! reader, platonic touden party & reader

…tags! fluff, some crack, headcanon format, mild manga spoilers, reader is referred to as ‘mom’ once

…wc! 847

…notes! the way i nearly screeched in delight when i got this ask. chilfuckers i’m one of you let me in. you used they/them for the reader so i’m gonna assume this is a maternal gn reader! i hope it is for your liking ty for being my first request 🥺

Having a more wise, of age individual in the party is always a plus when you need some advice.

And when most people in the party are absolute lunatics.

You have your hands full trying to stop Laios acting recklessly in action, or doting on Marcille when her emotions get the best of her.  Goodness, even Senshi has your hair going grey from how he gets sometimes!

Laios just sort of… lets your doting happen.

He can get slightly grumbly if you get too mad at him.  Still, it’s not the worst thing a parental figure could do.  Go easy on him!

Marcille takes psychic damage upon learning your age.  She’s staring at you, at the age in your face, and taking the years into account.

It’s simply not computing.  You… You should be, like, a pre-teen or something!  Human ageing baffles her once again.

Still… she is incredibly receptive to you doting on her.  She’s more of a carer on instinct but she finds herself falling into you whenever her spoons are low.

Senshi just sort of hits you with the “why tho” when you try fretting.  It’s actually slightly frustrating.  Still, you can recognise his wisdom and take a step back.  He can take care of himself… most of the time.

Izutsumi… oh the dear girl.

You must have recognised the signs immediately.  Her lack of table manners, her reclusive nature… she’s so young.

The girlcat was a bit prickly to any doting at first.  You would probably remind her a bit too much of Maizuru for her liking.

With time, perhaps sometime after he run-in with her succubus, Izutsumi would be a bit more welcoming of how you treat her.  It’s… It makes her feel nice, or whatever.

She accidentally calls you Mom once.  She was mortified as Marcille squeals in delight and Laios laughs to himself.  You couldn’t even ask if she thinks of you as a mother figure before she’s already stomping away to hide in a corner somewhere.

Then there’s Chilchuck.  Oh, what to say about him.

You probably thought he was a young human at first too.  He’s taller than other half-foots after all.  Still, as soon as you even try to act maternal around him, he yells at you and tells you he isn’t a kid.

Keep your distance for a bit, and he’ll warm up to you again.

Watching you do your thing with the other party members will have him commenting that he has no idea how you can just keep up with everyone like this, and he’s the one with three kids here.

You just smile gently and reply that it helps you keep stability knowing everyone in the party is doing alright.  At that, Chilchuck will give you a glance, and internalise your words.

Upon Izutsumi’s arrival into the party, Chilchuck’s perspective on you begins to alter slightly.

Initially, he respected you a fair bit.  You were more like the two older co-workers constantly giving each other looks at the younger ones’ antics.

But he sees you with this child he also has to admit he’s grown attached to.  You really were a natural maternal figure to Izutsumi.  He watches you tend to her sometimes, a smile slowly curling on his lips.

Then he catches himself, and his blood runs cold.

…Ohhh, shit. 

Chilchuck is level headed most of the time, but when he’s panicking he can’t keep his cool to save his life.

Around you, he becomes more… frantic, in a way.  Lecturing others to give you a break, even if he can just have a small talk with you.  If asked what’s up he’d raise his voice defensively and say it doesn’t matter.

One time, Izutsumi decided she can’t choose between her two favourite human heaters, and practically forced you and Chilchuck to sleep on either side of her.  Even with the girl slotted in between you two, Chilchuck was internally losing his mind at the closeness.

He even lets you dote on him a bit more again.  Not too much, though.  He’ll accept the occasional checking in and headpat but that’s it!

You can very easily pick up on his feelings for you.  It’s not hard to notice the shift in his attitude.

Well… It’s not like you can complain.  You may offer to help him out with his future shop once you’re out of here, giving him a slight wink.

Cherish how red his face gets.  He won’t let anyone else embarrass him so easily.  Maybe pinch his cheeks if you’re feeling brave, but he may swat you away depending on his mood.

At the end of the day, he’ll give you a small smile, and wonder aloud where the Hell all the party would be if it weren’t for you.

(Bonus!  I think Falin would also super appreciate your presence.  She’s the kind to simply take her own parents’ treatment of her and shrug it off in a ‘it is what it is’ sort of way.  Your doting attitude would leave her slightly discombobulated, but she’s very welcome to it.)

#✮ grimm's fics! #chilchuck #chilchuck tims #chilchuck x reader #chilchuck tims x reader #chilchuck tims imagines #chilchuck imagines #dungeon meshi #dungeon meshi imagines #dungeon meshi x reader #delicious in dungeon #delicious in dungeon imagines #delicious in dungeon x reader #laios touden #marcille donato #senshi of izganda #izutsumi #falin touden

[solar-wing]

⚣ Domestic Living With Jason 🩳

⚣🩳 A/N → I'm physically incapable of writing anything under 500 words. But, this was inspired by my love of compression shirts (especially the Under Armor ones and how I would do exactly this if my boyfriend tried to walk out wearing one). May start a series off this, we'll see. Warnings: Domestic Vibes. Married Energy. Suggestive Langauge. Swearing. Petty Jason.

⚣🩳 Summary → Domestic life is something. Domestic life with Jason Todd is another thing. One moment, you're ready to fight this man. Next moment, you're ready to fight this man. *wink wink* Wait, hold up. Jason, what the hell are you wearing?!

⚣🩳 Words → 1.5K

REBLOGS & replies are greatly appreciated, please! 💛

⚣ ENJOY 🩳

“Jason, hurry up! I need to get back so I can finish this essay.” Y/N yelled from the living room of his and his boyfriend’s shared apartment.

If you asked him a year ago what he figured living with his boyfriend would be like, he’d more than likely answer with a lot of freaking sex. Of course, other things came with it, but that was the first thing that always came to mind.

It also came with a lot of stay-at-home dates. Jason was unsurprisingly a natural homebody and loved to spend his evenings when he could with his lovely boyfriend cuddled against his body while watching a movie or playing a game and munching down on some takeout.

Truthfully, it was nice seeing how Jason was in a domestic situation. It served as a reminder to Y/N that under all those scars, grumpiness, and tough exterior was just a boy who wanted to be loved.

On the other end, living with Jason made Y/N take a long, hard look in the mirror and reflect on all the bad habits he had when living at home with his parents and starting college. For example, time management…

Before he started dating Jason, Y/N was the kind of person who waited till twenty minutes before he had to leave to start getting dressed. Whenever someone would text him and ask for his location, he’d respond telling them he was leaving the house now.

Then, when he was actually leaving the house and they’d text him again, he’d respond saying he was on the freeway. Truly, the best example of what not to do when he wanted to be on time somewhere.

After he started dating Jason though, and especially when they moved in together, Y/N sent a long apology to his parents who had tried for years to teach him better time management. The crazy thing about that was when they asked him why he was apologizing and he explained that Jason’s time management made him look like an angel, they didn’t believe him!

In their eyes, Jason was a saint who could do no wrong. Which was ironic considering Y/N’s dad promised to castrate any man who dared even look his son’s way. And his mom, well, not sure that’s really appropriate to mention.

Yet, when it came to Mr. Jason Peter Todd, he might as well have been hand-delivered from God himself. Maybe it was because his boyfriend could and would be late to anything else in the world (Lord knows Bruce went through hell and back just to get him to be on time for family dinner), but if it was anything involving Mr. and Mrs. Y/L/N, he was twenty minutes early with a gift he picked up from the local Target.

It also could be that Jason was the world’s biggest kiss-ass (when he needed to be) and used that to wrap Y/N’s parents around his finger. Either or…

But now, since they were only going to the gym, Jason was of course taking his sweet time to get ready, which, every passing second was another snap of one of Y/N’s nerves. Truthfully, he would’ve just grabbed his keys and left without him, but the last time he did that, Jason went and bought a steering-wheel clutch to put on his car and hid the keys from him for two weeks.

Another thing Y/N’s parents would never believe about their son’s beloved boyfriend; the fucker was petty as hell.

“I’m coming, babe! Be out in a sec,” Jason yelled from behind their bedroom door.

“You said that five minutes ago!”

“Sorry, I don’t recall. Maybe you imagined it.”

This gaslighting motherfu–

Y/N had to take a deep breath to calm his growing impulsive need to bust down that door and slap the fuck out of his boyfriend’s neck. It didn’t help…

“You can’t hit your boyfriend. You can’t hit your boyfriend. You can’t hit your boyfriend,” Y/N mumbled to himself while tapping his foot against the floor repeatedly to distract himself from the ticking seconds passing by in his mind.

Two minutes later, the door opened and revealed his tall and bulky man looking ever so fresh and handsome. Though Y/N was still irritated beyond belief, the sight of his boyfriend’s handsome face who grew a smile and twinkle in his eyes when he looked at him always managed to dissipate his temper.

Not by much though. Jason’s neck still looked like a very bright and large target just waiting for a good sting from the palm of his hands.

Maybe Tim was right, they were a match made in heaven just off violent tendencies alone.

“That was not a sec,” Y/N reprimanded in a grumble.

Jason’s smile turned into a self-satisfied grin while he walked past his boyfriend to their coat closet, grabbing his abnormally large gym shoes. Seriously, what size is this man’s foot?

“Hey, it’s not my fault you waited till the last day to finish your homework.” He replied while tying his shoe.

“Um, actually it is. Every time I tried to sit down and work on it, you’d either start complaining about how I wasn’t paying any attention to you or you’d get randomly horny and start touching me in ways that shall not be named and I’d end up with your dick inside me.”

Y/N immediately regretted his words when he saw how Jason looked up from finishing his last shoe, a lustful blown look on his face as he eyed his body up and down. Thankfully, he didn’t seem like he was about to act on his impulses as he kept tying his shoe without looking before standing back up.

Why was that hot?

“Sounds like you need to practice self-control, sir.”

Oh, no he didn’t.

“Sir, I was already tempted to smack the back of your neck before. I beg you to not increase that urge.”

“Do it. I dare you,” Jason challenged, standing right in front of him with his towering frame. The tone in his voice and the look on his face were signaling something that Y/N was very tempted to answer, but he had to keep rationality in the forefront of his mind.

“You not worth it,” He responded, side-stepping him while going to grab his jacket.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

“Sir, don’t get fu–”

It was at that moment Y/N took a full look at his boyfriend, specifically what he was wearing. And while the sight was something he wouldn’t mind staring at, he definitely didn’t want other people staring at him.

“Excuse me, but what in the hell are you wearing?” Y/N asked, still looking him up and down.

Jason looked confused for a moment, also looking at his outfit, not seeing what the problem was.

“Um, a shirt and sweats? Is this a trick question or,”

“Why is it so tight? Who are you trying to show off for?”

This man was wearing a black compression shirt and gray joggers like it was just a regular Sunday. The Lord is watching, how dare he?!

Jason’s smirk immediately came back when he realized what he was really about, “Oh, what? I can’t wear tight clothes now to the gym?”

“Not unless you want me to fight bitches. Because, just in case you forgot, I do fight bitches.”

“Language, or I’m telling mom. And I like it when you fight over me,” He said while grabbing at Y/N’s waist.

He immediately popped the vigilante’s hands off him, “Don’t involve my mother in and hands off mister.”

“Our mother, thank you,” Jason corrected.

“It’s giving incestuous, and last time I checked, there is no ring on this finger and my last name is not Todd.”

“Don’t tempt me.”

Y/N was sat.

“I-, that was really hot and we’re gonna move on from that,” Y/N responded, and Jason once again had a cocky smirk on his face. Lord knows this man was more than likely dead serious. He’d drop everything and drive to a ring shop right now.

“Anyway, you need to go change sir. I don’t need them dirty, mud-bathing rats staring at what is for my eyes only.” Y/N responded, pointing back to their bedroom waiting for Jason to move.

“Oh, so I need to go change, but when you were wearing those tiny shorts, showing off what’s supposed to be for my eyes only, I got told to mind the business that pays me,” Jason asked with a laugh.

“Are you on my payroll?” Y/N questioned.

“No.”

“My point still stands.”

“You think you’re funny,”

“I think I’m hilarious, actually. In fact, I’m so funny, I’m going to get the extra small shorts I just got in the mail since you want to play with me.” Y/N turned around and sprinted for their bedroom.

“Oh, I’ll play all day,” Jason mumbled under his breath before throwing their gym bags down to the ground and kicking off his shoes before following his boyfriend into the room.

They did not make it to the gym, but they definitely got their workout in.

☀️ | Jason Todd/Red Hood | ☀️

☀️ | Masterlists | ☀️

#solar-wing ☀️ #☀️🪽.fanfic #☀️🪽.dcposts #☀️🪽.txt #gay #dc #dcu #dcau #dc comics #dc universe #dc imagine #dc x reader #dc x male reader #x reader #x male reader #jason todd #jason todd imagine #jason todd x reader #jason todd x male reader #jason todd x m!reader #red hood #red hood imagine #red hood x reader #red hood x male reader #red hood x m!reader

[wolfjackle-creates]

broski I beg of u to tell me about your Danny is Clark’s nephew wip im so intrigued

@hailsatanacab also asked about this one! I shared two snippets for them so check out Part 1 and Part 2. (about 900 words total between the two asks.)

This was inspired by the discussion on a prompt you made ages ago, actually! Here's the post. The main prompt isn't the inspiration, however. It was the comment about Danny joining the JL and [insert spiderman meme here].

Let's see if I have anything I can add. (I changed things enough when posting the first bits that everything else I have doesn't fit anymore.)

Eh, fine. Just went through and wrote another 600 words.

-----

Danny winced. “Yes, Uncle Cl— Kal. Uncle Kal.” Danny glanced next to him and realized Constantine had moved several feet away and was deliberately trying to not attract attention. He bit back a smile and pulled on the Prince Phantom persona Queen Dora had forced him to learn. “Thank you for your assistance, Laughing Magician. I now declare our deal complete and will make no further claims on you.” He waved his hand producing a piece of parchment which he handed over. “As promised, your payment.”

Constantine grabbed the paper and backed away quickly. “Great. Glad to do business with you, your highness. Hope your family reunion goes well. I’ll just—” he jerked a thumb over his shoulder, then changed something and disappeared through a portal even as several of the League members present tried to yell at him to stop.

Danny rolled his eyes as he fell back into his more relaxed demeanor. “Oh, please. What more did you want from him? I’ll talk to Uncle Kal and he can decide what is important to pass on. Magician Constantine already told you most of what he knows.”

“Just… come on, Danny,” said Uncle Clark. “We need to talk.”

---

Finding a place to talk to Danny wasn’t the problem, Clark quickly realized. Shaking off his coworkers, however… Bruce in particular did not want to be left out. And Wally was too curious to be put off.

“Danny?” called Clark when he realized the kid wasn’t with him.

“By the viewing window,” said Bruce. “He seems to enjoy the view.”

“Right. Should’ve guessed.” Clark cursed himself silently for forgetting how much the kid loved space. “Batman, please. I know you like to know everything. But can I just talk to my nephew alone? I’ll explain everything I can after, but I need to know how this situation could’ve happened in my own family without my knowledge first without you being there inserting Opinions.”

“Very well. I’ll collect Flash and we’ll leave the two of you alone. But I expect a full report after.”

“I’ll make a peach cobbler, Ma’s recipe, and head to the Manor tomorrow to tell you everything.”

“I’ll let Nightwing know.”

Clark sighed. “I’ll make two cobblers.”

Bruce’s lips twitched upward, but he turned without saying anything more. “Flash! Since this matter is going to be delayed, I believe you still have to file your report on the incident last week.”

Clark chuckled as Flash protested. But he didn’t listen to their discussion, instead joining Danny by the viewing window. He settled an arm around his nephew’s shoulders. “Beautiful, aren’t they?”

“I can’t believe you get to come up here and look out at the stars any time you want.”

“I don’t get up here as much as I’d like, I’m afraid. And when I am up here, it’s because something somewhere is going wrong so I don’t get to appreciate it as much as I’d like to.”

“So, if you’re an alien, does that mean Dad’s an alien, too? Is that why he is the way he is? Am I part alien?”

Clark laughed and ruffled Danny’s hair. Like this, it felt almost insubstantial, like passing his hand through mist. “Fraid not, kid. No one knows why your dad is the way he is. I can’t remember how often he was tested for the meta gene.”

“Once a year every year from the time he was six until he was twenty-two and graduated undergrad and started living on his own. Then he stopped for a few years. Until he started dating Mom. He accidentally broke her apartment door once and she insisted he get tested again.”

Clark wanted to laugh, but all he could remember was Danny’s earlier statement. “Danny… Are you…safe with your parents?”

-----

Again, anyone is free to continue this! If anyone wants, I can combine everything into one post to make it easier to do so.

#dpxdc #danny fenton #clark kent #danny is clark's nephew #clark is danny's uncle #first time writing clark pov #hope there's no glaring errors

[writerslittlelibrary]

Ok so blackhill x daughter reader

So Natasha and Maria have been stressed lately and on a mission we keep calling them lil mama and mom (I don’t know which nicknames you want) and some agents (avengers don’t because they are used to) snicker about that. (Don’t get me wrong they love when we call them that no matter the situation and will beat up anybody who laughs at that but now due to the stress they can’t) so they kind of snap at us telling us that we have to adress them with respect.

Now the angst 😈 then some days after that mission we get kidnapped and HYDRA got a device that made us see that our mothers were torturing us. So we got tortured irl but saw that Natasha and Maria did it.

Then when they finally get to where we are (some time has to pass) we start to back up frightened and start saying things like “please miss romanoff please don’t hurt me more miss romanoff” (yk like begging but calling them that) and Natasha is startled and says “what did you call me?” So we get even more frightened and kind of scream “I’m sorry black widow I’m sorry please no more please” also when we are in the compound every time we see them we get duper frightened. And they have to make a lot of effort and rehabilitation to get us back to our past shelf.

I don’t know if this makes sense at all. I’m sorry if it doesn’t

-🦈

We are your mothers

masterlist requests masterlist

part 2

pairing: Blackhill x daughter reader

warnings: yelling, Natasha and Maria being stupid for a second, torture

genre: angst

words: 1370

a/n: I finally finished a fic, yay😎 hope you like it :)

You do not have my permission to repost, copy or translate my work 

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

Going on a mission with your moms seemed exciting at first. You and Natasha had spoken about it a lot, and while she was unsure of you joining them, she was proud of you.

Two days in and excitement had died down, now walking on eggshells every time you talked with your moms. They were stressed. Very stressed. The past couple of days hadn’t been easy on them and they carried a lot of responsibility and had a lot on their plate. You tried to help them, but Maria had just ended up telling you to go somewhere else.

You knew it had nothing to do with you, but it still hurt.

To make the whole situation worse, people had been laughing behind your back, and sometimes right in your face due to the fact you called your moms by their names, mom and mama. The other agents made fun of it and you found it annoying but mainly ignored it. You knew they were just some stupid agents, you just wished they’d shut up. 

Today wasn’t any different. All of you were working on finding information, hacking into computers and trying to find out where Hydra was going to hit next. 

“Hey mama, I think I found something,” you said, typing something in the laptop while you tried to secure a location. You heard an agent snicker, and you knew Natasha had heard it too, but she seemed to ignore it. She walked over to you, leaning down to look at the laptop. 

“This proves nothing, y/n. Please take this seriously,” she said, walking back to your mom. You sighed in annoyance, and leaned back into your chair. 

“I am taking this seriously mama. Why wouldn’t I? I know it’s serious, but I really thought I had something-” “Well you didn’t, and you need to start being more respectful. We are not at home. Address us properly,” Natasha interrupted, typing something into her own computer. 

You looked at your mom pleadingly, but Maria just shook her head and went on with her own work. “You could’ve just told me that. No need to yell!” you replied back to Natasha, who looked at you really pissed. “Go take yourself for a walk, and don’t even dare coming back until you’ve remembered your manners!” Natasha replied angrily, and you could hear some agents snickering. 

You stood up aggressively, pushing your chair back and storming out of the room, ignoring your moms scolding you heard. 

You walked outside for a while, the cool autumn air helping to calm your nerves. You felt odd, though, but you couldn’t really explain it. You kept looking behind you, feeling as though someone was following you. When the feeling got worse, you reached for your phone, dialing your mom who, stupidly, ignored your call. You cursed yourself quietly, calling your mama, who, surprisingly, picked up. 

“What?” you heard your mama say, hearing the annoyance in her voice. “I think I’m being followed…” you replied softly, checking behind you again. 

“Where are you?” you heard Natasha ask, her voice suddenly sounding concerned and panicked. “I’m at-” “Hello? y/n?! Answer me!” Natasha yelled through the phone, but you were knocked out cold. 

Natasha immediately grabbed Maria’s attention, explaining what happened. The entire mission was thrown around, now solely focussed on finding you.

Meanwhile, you were being dragged into a van, which drove you to a Hydra base. You were still knocked out when they placed you into a dark room, strapping you down to a chair and quickly injecting you with a serum.

Once you woke up, the room was dark, and your mind felt foggy. You couldn’t remember what happened, but when you went to reach for your head you found out your arms and legs were tied. You panicked, frantically trying to get yourself loose but to no avail. Once you stopped struggling, the door opened, and two figures walked in.

You blinked a few times, not trusting your mind, before you realized it was your moms standing in front of you. “Mama! Mom! Please help me!” you pleaded with them, tugging on the restraints.

They didn’t move from their spot, instead who you thought was Maria lifted her arm, a strike hitting you in the face. “Address us properly,” she demanded, waiting for your answer. Your head swept to the side and tears stung in your eyes. “What?...” you questioned quietly, barely above a whisper. Another strike hit your cheek, this time Maria grabbed your hair, yanking your head back.

“Address us properly,” she demanded again, Natasha now stepping closer too.

You shook your head to the best of your abilities, tears running down your cheeks. “Mom please, don’t get it…” you cried, another slap landing on your cheek. 

It had been days, and you were beaten and bruised and barely alive. Every few hours, a guy would come to inject you with a blue serum. It didn’t hurt, but it made your brain feel foggy and made you see things that weren’t really there. 

Your moms had been coming into the room constantly, torturing you and laughing at you, making fun of you. 

You were terrified, but completely obedient to whatever they told you. You had been moved into another room a few days ago, this one with a bed, or rather a mattress, a very thin mattress, on the floor. Your ankle was attached to a chain, which was attached to the wall.

You were shaking and starving, your wounds hurting more than anything you’d ever experienced. 

Little did you know your real moms had been doing anything in their power to try and find you. They had gone over every possible Hydra base, skipping sleep and going through every possible file and document to try and locate you, and tonight, they did.

It was late when your cell door opened, and your moms once again walked in. “y/n,” you heard a relieved sigh, but you didn’t dare look at them. 

You kept your eyes on the ground, sitting up straight and keeping quiet, just like you’d been taught. Natasha ran up to you, laying her hand on your shoulder to try and assess the damage, but you flinched away from her touch, trying to make yourself as small as possible.

“Please…” you cried out. “No more… please miss Romanoff no more…” 

Natasha hesitated in her movement, making eye contact with Maria, who was slowly approaching. “What did you just call me?” Natasha asked surprised, and she, nor Maria didn’t miss the way that sentence made you flinch and made yourself even smaller. 

“I’m sorry Black Widow. I’m sorry, please don’t hurt me. I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” you cried out, tears violently streaming down your face. 

Maria tried to approach you as well, but you flinched away from her as well.

Natasha had tears running down her cheeks, seeing you so afraid of her, too terrified to even look at her. Meanwhile, Maria called for back-up. Soon after, Yelena entered the room, followed by Clint. Natasha was sitting against a wall, her head leaning on it as she cried soundlessly, Maria sitting next to her, tears in her eyes as well.

You were sitting across for them, still covering your face with your arms and you tried to shield yourself.

Yelena slowly approached you, her hands raised as she crouched down next to you. “Baby spider…?” she asked carefully, taking note of your form relaxing slightly as you heard her voice. “Baby spider it’s me. It’s auntie Yelena. Can I help you with your wounds please?”

Seeing as though you made no move to get away from her, she came closer, hugging you tight as she checked your wounds. You finally broke down, feeling safe in the familiar arms of the russian.

Clint helped Natasha and Maria, getting them up and then breaking the chain you were attached to. Yelena lifted you up, taking you to the Quinjet, while your moms were left in that room. They saw your terrible state as Yelena carried you away, and silently cried, knowing this happened only because they got mad over you calling them mom, knowing you’d probably ever call them that again. 

a/n: I might rewrite this ending or make a part two cause, yikes.

part 2

#black widow #marvel #natasha x reader #blackhill #mcu #avengers #natasha romanoff #natasha x daughter #natasha x reader platonic #blackhill x daughter #maria hill #maria hill x reader #maria hill x daughter #marvel reader insert #reader insert #avengers x reader #teen avenger reader #yelena belova #yelena belova x reader #yelena x reader platonic #aunt yelena

[ichorai]

hell, yeah ; roman roy ; part one (m).

track ten of BROKEN MACHINE.

pairing ; roman roy x f!reader

synopsis ; pain was an old friend for the both of you.

words ; 16.2k

themes ; fluff, angst, drama, slowburn, suggestive, childhood friends to lovers

warnings / includes ; drugs, alcohol, depictions of abuse, mentions of death, hospitals, a lot of sexual jokes and general foul language, reader accidentally walks in on roman jacking off, reader is logan's goddaughter, a lot of business talk, roman being an asshole

series masterlist. main masterlist.

Pain was an old friend of Roman’s. A friend of shadows and light, a simultaneous whisper and scream, a slap and a smile. It followed him throughout his childhood, where his father had beaten him with his leather belt for spilling a cup of orange juice all over an expensive carpet. It followed him throughout his teenage years, when his mother admitted to him that she never quite loved him. It followed him into adulthood, seeping into every porous crack of his being as he so desperately tried to wrangle it away. The pain was a friend, but it still stung no matter how much of a familiar presence it was.

There were very few constants in Roman’s life—there were his siblings, who were far too erratic to be considered constants. There were his parents, both of which were neglectful and abusive in their own ways. There was the pain, sure…

And there was you.

You were his father’s godchild, having been a close family friend of the Roys for as long as Roman could remember. In every one of his blotted, hazy memories of his past, he could faintly recall you always being there, a beacon of light within the desolate seas of his adolescence. Roman didn’t like admitting it, but you were the closest thing he had to an actual friend. How you’d witnessed dozens upon dozens of his beatings, and in turn, never laid a cruel hand on him. How you’d offer him sweet smiles and comforting words—words that he pretended not to listen to, but he did. He always listened. 

One of Roman’s earliest memories with you was when he was seven and you were six. He had pulled his mouth open excitedly, leaning forward to show you the gap between the bottom row of his teeth. 

“You lost a tooth?” you had asked, voice lilting with jealousy. He’d lost far more teeth than you. 

“Yup.” He didn’t want to tell you that he’d lost this one because his father had backhanded him over his jaw.

“Can I see it?” you asked, childish curiosity dancing over your irises. He held out the small tooth in the palm of his hand, watching the way your expression melded into one of excitement. 

“If I put it under my pillow, I’ll get a quarter,” bragged Roman. He knew he wouldn’t—there was never any money under his pillow when he’d lost teeth in the past. Maybe the tooth fairy didn’t care about him enough, just like his mom and dad. 

Your eyes widened. “I want a quarter.”

“Lose your own tooth, then.”

You smiled, roguish and wide. “Or I could just take yours.”

The two of you spent the rest of the afternoon gleefully chasing each other in the large, manicured yard, until you were both damp with sweat and your chests rose and fell in haggard, breathless motions. The tooth was long lost, abandoned somewhere in the grass, but the two of you had somehow completely forgotten about it, anyway. When the pair of you came slinking back inside, tracking mud and dirt onto the pristine floors, Logan yelled at his youngest son until he burst into a fit of hiccuping tears—but Roman tried not to think about that part as much. 

Another one of Roman’s prominent memories was during a New Years party. He was fifteen, picking at his nails in a bored fashion, sipping on a drink that most definitely had alcohol in it, but nobody cared enough to stop him. Dozens of faceless people strode by, laughing and dancing the night away. It was only minutes before midnight when you approached him, a flustered wave of heat sewn over your cheeks. The two of you were practically attached to the hip, so it wasn’t at all a surprise to Roman that you’d come seeking him out.

“Hey, Romeo,” you said, offering him a gentle smile. The affectionate nickname was one that only you called him—one that Roman often pretended to gag at but really, he couldn’t get enough of hearing you call him that. 

“Hey, fuck-face,” he responded, earning him an amused wrinkle of your nose. You were so pretty then, beneath all those dewy chandelier lights. “So, are you, uh, planning on kissing any of these corporate cocksuckers tonight?”

You exaggerated giving his question a long, hard think, sweeping your gaze over the mingling crowd. “Well, my options are between an old white man… and oh, look at that—another old white man. I’ll give it a pass.”

A snort fell from his lips. “Yeah, well, there’s me. I may be a pasty white, but I’m not old. I don’t look a day over forty.”

It was your turn to laugh, though it was more of a scoff than anything. He took another sip of his drink, before grimacing and setting it down by the edge of the table.

When the clock struck midnight, you leaned over to press a chaste kiss to his cheek, but for reasons unbeknownst to him, he turned his head at the very last second so that your lips fell against his. You pulled away quickly, eyes wide. Roman could feel his heart sinking down to his stomach—oh, he fucked up. He fucked up bad. He wanted nothing more than the ground to open and swallow him whole. 

Though Roman had expected you to crack a joke about how gross he was, you did nearly the exact opposite. You smiled, tilting your head to the side. 

“Happy New Year, Ro,” you whispered. 

The two of you never spoke of the kiss again.

As the years flickered by, you and Roman were near inseparable, especially once you landed a top manager position at Waystar thanks to your godfather, Logan.

It was his eightieth birthday, and you along with the rest of the Roy family gathered at his lavish house to surprise him. He seemed none too pleased at the sight of a dozen people crowding the entrance to the elevator, but he went on to hug his kids nonetheless. 

Then his gaze swung to you, and you suddenly felt like an eight year old again, cowering beneath his scornful gaze with bated breath. Unlike Roman, Logan never laid a hand on you—though you weren’t exempted from his sharp insults and ridicule.

“Hi, Uncle Logan,” you said, trying your best to smile in a way that didn’t seem unnaturally forced.

Eyes brightening, Logan wound an arm around you, catching you off guard. “Y/N, my dear, it’s been so long! You look beautiful.”

“Ah, thanks—thank you. You look great, as well.”

You glanced at Roman, who gave you a thumbs up and mouthed, cocksucker.

Once Logan pulled away to go greet Connor, you jabbed your elbow into Rome’s side, who snickered under his breath. 

Soon after, Logan herded all his children off to another room, leaving you to greet Rava and her two kids with a kind beam. When Roman came slinking out of the room a few minutes later, he made a bee-line for you, a wiry smile on his face.

“What happened?” you asked, placing a hand on your longtime friend’s forearm. “What’s going on?”

“Dad fucked Kendall. He’s staying on as CEO.” Roman burst into a fit of giggles.

You narrowed your eyes. “That’s—that’s not funny, Ro. Why would he stay on?”

“I don’t know, because Kendall is a limpdick with bad ideas?”

Before you could respond, Logan burst into the room, shouting, “LUNCH!”

It didn’t go past your notice when Roman tensed beneath your touch. You squeezed his arm reassuringly, before gently nudging him into the dining room to be seated by a motherhenning Marcia. 

The hospital was a cold and foreboding place. Logan had collapsed in the helicopter on the way back from the softball field, and never before had you seen Roman look so terrified. 

In the waiting room, Rome paced back and forth along the seats, his large coat suddenly looking twice its size and his knuckles digging into his squeezed-shut eyes as if he were a kid all over again. 

You took his hand, gentle and slow, lacing your fingers with his. There was a pause when Roman gave you a sidelong glance, the air stilling between you. 

“It’ll be fine,” you whispered, voice warbling. It was clear to the both of you that you didn’t quite believe in your own words. But he leaned into your lies nonetheless, like a fly driven to honey. “Ro, it’ll be okay. It’s Logan—he’s… he’ll fight through.”

The man sucked in a breath. Instead of replying, he pulled his hand away from yours and continued his pacing. 

Hours later, you were curled up on a seat, eyes drooping with exhaustion. Rome sat on the floor in front of you, the back of his head resting against your knee. You knew he was stressed, wanting to sign off the papers as per Logan's wishes, whilst Shiv and Kendall were starkly against the idea.

“He’s not gonna die,” Roman mumbled when Shiv began yelling at Kendall for discussing who would take over the business while Logan was unconscious in the other room. Then, he turned to look up at you, desperate to hear you backing him. “Right? He’s not gonna die.”

“He won’t,” you told him, brushing away a stray strand of his hair from his face. “It’ll be okay.”

Shiv’s tired eyes darted back and forth between the two of you as she huffed out a sigh. A large part of her had always felt jealous of your relationship with Roman—how you weren’t even dating her brother and yet you seemed closer to him than she would ever be with Tom.

When the doctors told the family that Logan had a hemorrhagic stroke and it wouldn’t be wise to operate, they moved him to a much larger and fancier room to keep a close eye on him. It wasn’t long before Kendall, Shiv, and Rome broke out into another large fight over who would take the company. To your surprise, Roman had even offered up himself, which was quickly shot down by Kendall.

“He was fucking playing you to get you to sign the change of trust! Do you even know what it fucking involves?” 

Roman reared back, both of his hands resting on his hips. “Are you calling me a dipshit?”

“No. I love you, man, but you’re not a serious person.”

Clearly upset, Roman strode away from Kendall, making his way to you and curling up by your side, his arm thrown over your shoulders. “Fuck you, Kendall. He’s alive, and you’re not the fuckin’ boss.”

A headache began to pound at the forefront of your head. “Guys, can we please not do this right now? Please? Can’t this wait until morning, at the very least?”

A frown graced Kendall’s weary countenance. “You’re not even a part of this, Y/N—”

Roman’s grip on your shoulders tightened. “Hey, don’t you talk to—”

“Stop!” Shiv barked out. “Let’s not throw shit around. We’re right in the middle here—we just sit tight for now. No sudden moves.”

“Well, we need to move! The markets are going to want to know who’s behind the wheel. We need to control the narrative.”

Rolling his eyes, Roman scoffed, “‘Control the narrative.’ You probably yell that when you cum.” Obnoxiously, he stood up and rounded the couch just behind you, pretending to thrust into it while moaning out control the narrative! 

“Ro, stop,” you gently reprimanded, which made him straighten up with a sharp clear of his throat. 

“Fuck you,” Kendall hissed. “We’re in a goddamn hospital. People know. We have to say something!”

“No, actually, we don’t!” retaliated Shiv. “Nobody knows how serious it is, so we don’t have to say anything.”

The siblings burst into another round of arguments, and you finally got up onto your feet, effectively silencing them. 

“I’m just gonna—I’m gonna go home,” you said, voice quiet. It filled you with hot shame when tears pricked the corners of your eyes. You were overwhelmed, tired, sick of all the fighting, and worried for your godfather. “Can one of you please just… let me know if he’s okay?”

“Oh, yeah, uhm… alright, uh, sorry if we…” Roman made an incoherent gesture before roping you into a one-armed hug. You kissed his cheek, before turning to do the same to Shiv and Kendall. As much as they all frustrated you, they were practically your family—the people you grew up side by side with.

The three siblings watched as you gingerly shuffled up to Logan on the hospital bed. He was breathing funny—tubes up his nose, chest rising and falling shallowly. Your bottom lip trembled as you fought to keep the tears at bay. Sniffling, you leaned down to kiss your godfather’s forehead, before straightening yourself and walking back.

As you made your way out of the hospital room, you could hear footsteps shuffling after you. You turned, eyes softening upon seeing Rome leaning against the wall, acting as if he hadn’t been following you.

“You okay, Rome?”

“Yeah, I’m just—seeing you off. I don’t know. Can’t trust hospital hallways these days.” There was a melancholic look to his face. A plea for you to stay was on the tip of his tongue—how was he supposed to go about pretending like everything was fine without you there to back him?

With a gentle sigh, you leaned forward to press your nose against Roman’s cheek, forehead resting against the side of his head. “I’ll see you soon, Ro. I just need to be alone for a bit. Is that okay?”

He swallowed uneasily. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s—fuck. That’s okay.”

You gave him a smile, one that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “That’s a good boy,” you teasingly said in an effort to make him laugh.

Rome stepped away from you, scratching the back of his head and chuckling nervously. “Hah, yeah, fuck off. Bye, dickhead.”

“Bye, Romeo,” you replied with a certain kind of tragic fondness, and he turned to stiffly walk back into the hospital room.

After several nights of limited, restless sleep, you found yourself back in your office, leaning back in your chair tiredly. Hundreds of emails flooded your computer screen—a large portion of them asking about the wellbeing of your godfather. It made you angry—almost irrationally so. You didn’t know. You didn’t fucking know a single thing. The constant reminders that you didn’t know anything about Logan’s fate weren’t helping one bit. 

The glass door to your office was pushed open by none other than Roman, the new COO, sporting a tired grin. 

“God, my back is fucked from this new trainer I have,” he announced, groaning as he sank into one of the pristine seats in your office. 

“You have a new trainer?” you asked, grateful to take your attention away from all those damn emails.

He scratched at the back of his head. “Yeah—I don’t know. Just trying it out. Whatever.”

“Shame, we could’ve worked out together,” you absent-mindedly responded, getting up from your desk chair to sit next to him, burying your face in your palms. “I could use the distraction.”

Because you weren’t looking at him, you missed the way Roman’s features softened for you, his hand patting your back. 

“I saw dad a while back,” he said, voice suddenly small. “He got like… tubes and shit up his nose and—” The words caught in his throat. 

You leaned your head against his shoulder, shutting your eyes for just a second. 

“I think I’m…”

“Scared?” you tried to finish for him when he trailed off.

There was a long pause before Roman cleared his throat. “Yeah.”

“It’s okay to be scared, Ro,” you said, lifting your head to meet his gaze and offering him a kind smile. “I’m here for you.”

Abruptly, Roman pulled away from you, standing up despite his stiff back. “Ugh, fuck. Don’t—don’t make those eyes at me.”

Brows kinking, you crossed your arms. “What eyes?”

“Those fuckin’... seductive eyes—I don’t know!” he glared at you before waving the matter away entirely. “Whatever, I just—”

“Ro,” you interrupted, voice still kind despite him lashing out. “I understand you're stressed out, but don’t make things weird between us because you’re so out of touch with your emotions.”

His voice raised an entire octave as he protested, “I’m not stressed. I’m fuckin’ peachy. Peachiest fuckin’ peach that’s ever peached. Look at me!”

“I’m looking,” you said, unimpressed.

With a frown, he made his way to the door. “You know what, fuck off. I came here to take a nap but I guess I’ll go find a breakroom or something.”

You narrowed your eyes, knowing damn well that he had his own lavish office to lounge in and he was just trying to make you feel bad for him. 

“I’ll come by later, Ro,” you told him. “We could get lunch?”

“Yeah, sure, whatever, fuck-face.” His words were harsh as ever but you could see right through his facade—he just needed someone to be there for him. 

He disappeared out the door, and you blew out a long sigh. Two hours flew by, and you managed to answer all your emails and organize some files, constantly interrupted by people coming in asking for you to sign contracts you barely cared enough about to read.

When your lunch break finally rolled around, you were quick to dash out of your office, eager to get away from work for a bit. The atmosphere around the building was so different now—what with Logan temporarily gone and Kendall as acting CEO, Roman as COO. 

You made your way to Roman’s office, eyebrows raising upon seeing that all the blinds were shut. Well, he had mentioned taking a nap. With pursed lips, you quietly pushed the glass door open, ducking past the beige-hued blinds.

Immediately, a breathy whine hit your ears accompanied by the unmistakable sound of—

Your eyes widened upon seeing Roman facing the window, both hands down his pants. 

“Oh, my god—oh, fuck—” you began, hurriedly backing up against the wall and throwing a hand over your eyes. Startled at the sudden noise, Roman turned his head over to see you blindly grappling for the door, trying your best to duck past the blinds. Before he could say anything, you were blurting out an apology, rotating on your heel to quickly throw yourself out of his office.

Fuck, Roman thought. His dick was even harder than it was before. Aroused shame curled within his stomach when he resumed touching himself, this time your shocked features imprinted into his thoughts. His forehead fell against the window when he came, a string of obscenities falling from his lips, and your name tumbling out with them.

Lunch with Roman didn’t happen—you were far too embarrassed to answer any of his texts (he had spammed you nearly twenty separate messages by now). By the time dinner came around, you were just getting ready to go home when you heard a voice say, “Knockity knock knock.”

Roman came into your office without knocking. 

“You’ve been ignoring me,” he plainly stated.

“I’m just busy,” you said, refusing to meet his gaze, cheeks burning. 

The man across from you tilted his head. “Look, about what you saw, back there—”

“I didn’t see anything,” you quickly said. 

“Okay, well, you want me to explain it to you? I had my hand down my—”

Hurriedly, you shook your head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I didn’t even go to your office today.”

Roman narrowed his eyes, before smiling in a mischievous manner, patting your flushed cheek twice. “Look at you, you little liar! Come on—let’s go get dinner. My treat.”

Begrudgingly, you followed after Roman, allowing him to pull you into a car, and then into a fancy restaurant you couldn’t even pronounce the name of, and hoard you into your seat. It was nice spending time with him—even though you’d walked in on him jacking off in his office earlier, he was still your best friend nonetheless. Besides, it wasn’t often the two of you hung out together outside of work.

“So—charity gala next week. You got a date yet?” he asked, forking pasta into his mouth.

“No—”

“Easy. You go with me,” said Rome. 

A frown crossed your face. “You could at least ask.”

“Why should I, when I know you’re going to say yes?”

“You’re so annoying.”

“Yeah, love you, too, schnookums,” he teased. “Eat your fuckin’ pasta before it gets cold. One noodle strand here costs, like, a hundred bucks.”

“You need to tell dad to back the fuck off,” Roman announced as he stomped into Kendall’s office, startling his older brother. “You know he rehired Frank to babysit me? I don’t need a babysitter, okay? Especially one I don’t get to fuck. I already have Y/N for that.”

Flabbergasted at the sudden barrage of information, Kendall pushed back from his desk. “Really? Frank is back?”

“Yeah, I mean, you’re CEO. Can dad even do that?” 

“I don’t… it’s, uh, it’s a question.”

Roman rolled his eyes. “Okay, well, have a talk with him and tell him to butt out because we are running the show now. Go back to bed and, I don’t know, fuckin’ eat some soup. Get some rest. Old man shit.”

The older of the two stood up, holding his hands out in a placating manner. “Hey, relax, alright? The, uh, you know… the dinosaur is having one last roar at the meteor before it wipes him out. But look—you’re doing a great job.”

Roman dipped forward and pressed a chaste kiss to his brother’s forehead. “Thank you. Thanks, man, really. Urgh—it’s actually so fuckin’ good to hear. It’s a big job.”

“I know.”

“Well, do you want some help? We can tag-team it on Dad’s speech at Sad Sack Wasp Trap.”

There was a pause. “Uhm, yeah, I guess. I mean, it is a CEO thing, so, like, I have a whole thing prepared… with jokes and stuff—”

“You’re doing jokes?” Roman snickered.

“Why does everyone keep saying that? I’m funny.”

Giggling, Roman sarcastically bit out, “Yup! Of course you are, big bro. I’m sure you’re gonna kill it out there. Who you taking?”

Kendall’s face twisted with discomfort. “Uh, no one… Rava’s busy.”

“Doesn’t wanna go with you. Got it.”

Kendall didn’t have the heart to glare at Roman. “I don’t know. Maybe I’ll roll solo.”

“How’s that gonna look? CEO can’t even get an ugly sister to go to the ball? You’ll be laughed at.”

There was a pause before Kendall offered, “You know who I’d like to take? Anna Newman—blonde chick from ATN.”

Roman took a second to think about who that was before saying, “Oh, shit, yeah. No, yeah, I’d fuck that in a minute. Take her!”

“It’s not cool. I’m her boss.”

“Oh, come on. What a pathetic beta-cuck!”

“Jesus, Roman, you’re a walking fucking lawsuit.”

“No—I’m just honest. I’m like, ‘Hey, you have a nice face, I wanna fuck your face, can I cum on your face?’ Which is exactly why my face is drowning in pussy and you don’t even fuck your wife.” After a second, Roman realized he probably stepped a bit too far. “Eesh, yikes. Too far. Sorry. Them’s the facts, though.”

Huffing out a sigh, Kendall asked, “Okay, then, who are you taking if you’re always drowning in pussy?”

“Well, I’m taking Y/N, even though I’m technically her boss.”

Shaking his head, Kendall sighed. “You’re taking Y/N? Are you guys finally dating or something, then?”

“Dating? Fuck, no.” Roman blew out a breath. “Hold on—what do you mean finally?”

Kendall’s lips slanted to the side. “I don’t know. We always just thought you two… you know…”

The memory of you accidentally walking in on him jerking off flashed across his mind. Roman clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “Nope. Nuh-uh. Nothing there. Y/N and I are… pals who want to fuck each other but never have, never will. Because we love each other too much.”

Because he was scared of you becoming something he could truly lose.

“You wanna fuck Y/N?” Kendall’s brows inched closer to his hairline with the question.

Roman pursed his lips. “I didn’t say that. What? Fuck you.” 

“You just—”

Already, Roman was on his feet, swinging out of Kendall’s office with an elongated bye!

Camera lights, flashing everywhere. Bright and blinding, leaving faint memories of colors in their wake dancing over your irises. Roman’s hand was curled over your waist as the two of you smiled wide for the paparazzi. You had coordinated your outfits—him in a regular black tux that you went out of your way to call boring, and you in a silken black dress with a plunging neckline that he went out of his way to call slutty. The two of you laughed about it regardless.

You were well aware of the headlines you’d make. Childhood Friends Reunited! Logan Roy’s Goddaughter With Youngest Roy Son: Star-Crossed Lovers.

It happened nearly every time you were seen out in public with Roman. And now that this was a large charity event, you only expected the headlines to double in number and grow more ludicrous in nature. Especially when Roman was not one to hold back, always cracking crude jokes.

Once the two of you made your way into the event hall, away from the snapping cameras, Rome leaned close to your ear to whisper, “Can I just say, you look fan-fucking-tabulous right now. Whew, I could just bend you over and—”

“God, Ro, have some decorum,” you replied lightly. “And don’t promise me things you won’t hold up to.”

He smiled, his lips faintly brushing the golden earrings you were wearing, before pulling away. 

“I gotta go talk to Dad,” he whispered, patting your hip as he slid away from you. You gave him a nod and a smile before making your way to your designated table, brushing past a frantic Connor who was murmuring under his breath about how the butter was fucked.

And as you took your seat, a handsome waiter with pretty eyes and dark curls came to your table, pouring you a drink with a smile. 

“Thanks,” you murmured.

“No problem,” he replied. With a charming twinkle in his eye, the waiter asked, “So, did your date leave you here all alone or did you come here by yourself?”

“He’s off doing… business. As he often does. He’s a friend.”

“A friend, huh?” the waiter echoed. It didn’t go past your notice when his brown irises darted down to glance at your form, the slopes of your curves accentuated just perfectly by the dark dress.

It was only then that Roman came skipping back, head cocked and brows raised at the unfamiliar face. 

“Hi,” he greeted, placing a firm hand on your back. 

When the waiter, looking awfully embarrassed, began to scuttle away, Roman only held his hand out to stop him, tutting as if he were scolding a petulant child. “Mmh. Fill my glass for me.”

It was a power play—an obvious one. You glared at Roman, but watched silently as the waiter you didn’t even know the name of poured your date some rich wine.

“Thaaank you,” he quipped, drawing out the first word obnoxiously long.

Just as the waiter turned to walk away, Roman stopped him once again. “Ah, ah, ah. You stick around, bud.” At your dismayed countenance, he quirked a brow. “What? Was I interrupting something? If you like my date so much, why don’t you just ask for her fuckin’ number?”

You blew out a sigh. “Rome—”

“No, I mean, you clearly want to, right?” Roman placed a hand on your shoulder. “Y/N, you wanna give this guy your number?” 

Almost out of spite, you nodded your head. “Yeah, I’d love to give him my number.”

You locked eyes with Roman, watching the way his expression seemed to shift and harden. He was enjoying every bit of this.

Finally, he tore his gaze away from you, looking back at the waiter. “Why don’t you ask for her number then?”

There was a long pause. Hesitant, the waiter asked, “Can I get your number?”

A wheeze of a laugh escaped Roman’s lungs when you asked for a pen, quick to jot down your number on a tissue.

“That’s actually her number. Wowie. Y/N’s getting lucky tonight, huh?” You couldn’t quite tell if the lilting tone in Roman’s voice was mirth or jealousy. Maybe both.

“Just don’t blow your nose with this, alright?” you told the waiter with a sweet smile, handing it over to him. 

When the waiter turned to leave, Roman called out after him, “Fetch another bottle for us, will you?”

Once he was finally gone, Roman sat down in the velvet seat next to you, grinning like a maniac.

“I’d slap you if we weren’t at a charity event, Ro.”

“Oh, don’t talk to me like that. You’ll get my dick hard.”

“You were being rude.”

“I’m sorry, and who was the one flirting with other people when you already have a date for the night?” 

You sent him a sharp, heated look. “You’re my friend, Roman. What does it matter to you if I flirt with someone else?”

The man beside you pretended to give it a long, hard think. “You know when a dog gets really attached to a chew toy? And another dog comes and tries to take it?”

“Oh, you did not just compare me to a chew toy, Ro, I’ll fucking—”

Before you could finish your sentence, you were abruptly cut off when music started playing on stage, and performers in bright orange fabrics began carrying out an intricate dance. You wrapped your hand around Roman’s tie, yanking him close and snarling into his ear, “We’re continuing this conversation later.”

You let him go just as quickly as you grabbed him, leaving Roman disoriented, giddy, and mildly aroused.

Not long after the performance, Logan came hobbling up for his speech. He congratulated Shiv and Tom for their engagements, and drawled on about his pride for his children. Roman seemed to fidget uncomfortably at his words. And for the last announcement, Logan proclaimed that he was officially back in Waystar.

You and Rome glanced at each other rather incredulously.

By the time the party was coming to a close, Kendall was being blown off by his blonde date—Anna something—and Roman had come to console his brother on his loss.

“This is our charity. How much is a plate? You gotta get a blowjob at the very least,” he scoffed. “Right, Y/N?”

With a scowl, you rolled your eyes. “She doesn’t owe you jackshit. And I’m not giving you a blowjob, you asshole. Not after that stunt you pulled back there.”

“Oh, so you would’ve given me a blowjob if I didn’t nudge that waiter’s cock right into your vagina?”

Pulling a sour face, you crossed your arms over your chest. “God, Roman, you’re disgusting.”

It seemed both of you were too caught up in your argument that neither of you noticed when Kendall slipped away, too glum to try to break you two apart. 

On the ride back home, Roman had suggestively broached the idea of coming up into your penthouse with you, but you were quick to shut him down. He’d come over to your place a million times before but… tonight felt different. You didn’t think it was right to let him in tonight.

“Good night, Romeo,” you told him, kissing his cheek lightly. “I’m still mad at you, by the way.”

“Good. I like you mad.” The brown of his eyes sparkled with his admission. You had half a mind to carve them out with a hot spoon. The other half yearned to kiss them. 

You did neither.

You shook your head before slipping out of the car, watching as the driver pulled away from the curb and disappeared behind a row of tall buildings. 

Logan always had you over for Thanksgiving. Your parents often traveled abroad for the holidays and you were far too busy to join them on their expeditions that usually lasted no fewer than two weeks. And thus, you always spent Thanksgiving and Christmas with the Roys ever since childhood. 

The holidays in your past were filled with fond memories from when you and Roman were small children playing out in the snow until your limbs began to freeze, stuffing dark charcoal down Kendall’s stockings, and exchanging silly, obnoxious gifts that had no real practical use to either of you. Of course, the laughter and the snow waned away after the years, turning more into promiscuous jokes and warming up by the fireplace together as the time drew on by. Nevertheless, the two of you were always together for the holidays.

Dinner was a large and lavish feast, consisting platters of fresh bread and butter, creamy mashed potatoes, juicy turkey meat, and so much more. Roman was stealing just about everything from your plate despite all the food laid out right in front of him. 

Once the meals were polished off, Logan had taken to showing off the war medals he had bought (not earned), but it was quick to dissolve into a fight with his estranged brother, Ewan, that brought back memories you’d really rather not think about anymore. It quickly ended with Ewan cursing the family out and storming out of the room and into the elevator to take his leave.

“This whole family is a nest of vipers,” he had said to his grandson, Greg. “They’ll wrap themselves around you and suffocate you.”

Though you doubted Ewan even knew who you were, his words resounded with you more than you were comfortable to admit. This family was poison—you knew it well by now. 

To ease the tension, Marcia herded everyone back into the dining room for dessert. It was a creamy pumpkin pie, with deliciously buttery crust and airy whipped cream sitting right on top of the thick filling. Roman had swiped off most of the whipped cream from your pie with his finger, licking it away before you even had a chance to protest. 

“Fuck you,” you gruffed under your breath, lightly kicking at his foot beside you.

“On Thanksgiving? For shame,” he teased, forking at his own pie with an impish grin.

“Can we do what my family does on Thanksgiving?” Tom asked everybody, smiling nervously.

After shoveling a piece of dessert into his mouth, Roman guffawed, “What? Fuck the turkey?”

Shiv laughed over her glass of wine.

“Go to other people’s dinners,” Logan dryly remarked. 

More prickly laughter.

“No, no,” said Tom, fidgeting with the collar of his dark turtleneck. “We go around the table and we each say what we’re thankful for.”

From beside you, Roman let out a loud retching noise. “Blegh.” This time, you couldn’t hold in your laughter, hiding your embarrassed smile behind a hand.

“I’ll go first!” chimed Marcia. “I’m thankful to have the family all together.”

“Nice!” Tom excitedly agreed, happy that his proposal wasn’t being completely disregarded. 

Surprising you, Roman was the next to go. “I’m thankful that, uh, Y/N used to sneak quarters under my pillows whenever I lost a tooth as a kid. I am… four dollars richer because of that. Oh, and that I wasn’t born a Siamese twin.”

You shot him a soft smile just as Shiv said, “Yeah, I’m also thankful for that—because being attached to you would be an absolute nightmare. But, mmh, I’m also thankful for the food.”

“Yeah, yes. Good food,” Kendall agreed.

There was a soft frown to Shiv’s features. “You can’t just piggy-back off of my thanks. Have your own.”

Before Kendall could even formulate a response, Greg cut in to say, “I’m thankful that Logan’s feeling better.”

Roman lolled his head to meet your eyes as he mouthed, suck up!

“I think we’re all thankful for that. It—it goes without saying,” Tom said in a haughty manner. “I’m thankful that I’m going to be marrying into one of the most vital and interesting and… kind and loving families in the world.”

 “Are you not going to marrying Shiv anymore?” asked Roman, feigning innocence. Laughter scattered around the table as Shiv flipped off her twin brother. 

Clearing his throat, Connor began speaking, “I have a little announcement. Uhm… Willa and I are pleased to announce that I’ve asked her and she’s agreed that we are to… take the next steps.”

Brows raising, Logan asked, “What? You—you’re not getting, uh…?” Married was what was left hanging in the air. 

“No, we’re, uh… going steady.”

Roman began giggling under his breath. “Jesus Christ. You guys are going steady? What are you, nine?” At his eldest brother’s slightly crestfallen expression, Roman shook his head. “Happy for you, man.”

Everybody else chimed in their thanks, before you were finally the last one left. With the entire family’s eyes set on you, you folded your hands over your lap and offered Logan a timid smile. “I’m just grateful to always be welcome here. My parents were never around so… it was nice to still have people I could call family. And I’m also grateful that I have the honor of being Roman’s only friend.”

“Hey—!”

Marcia abruptly clapped her hands, sensing that the two of you would’ve spiraled down into a childish argument. “Alright, everyone! Shall we play a game? Let’s gather the kids.”

As if you were cattle, she rounded up everybody into the living room, looping her arm with her husband’s, which Logan barely even was. 

The game was one of memory. A cold can of condensed milk was passed around the group as they chimed in what they’d bought from the market, along with what everyone else before them had bought. 

Once the can got to you, you smiled as you repeated, “I went to the market and bought… a shark tooth, a pony, a big fat hen, and this.”

You passed the can off to Rome, his hand brushing yours. “Uh, I went to the market and bought a crack pipe—”

A litany of protests burst out in the room. Rava covered her daughter’s ears and Kendall sighed out, “Roman!” 

“Alright, I went to the market and bought a gimp suit—”

“Roman.”

“Oh, my God. Fine—I bought a, uh, potato, a shark tooth, a pony, a big fat hen, and this.”

Finally, Roman passed the spotlight onto his father, who seemed like he hadn’t really been paying attention to the game. 

“What’s it gonna be, Dad? A hot dog? China? Immortality? Souls of the innocent?” Roman asked, draping an arm over your shoulders. 

There was a long pause. Longer than what was deemed normal. Logan glanced around blankly. 

Marcia gently reminded him, “I went to the market…”

“Yeah, okay. I went to the market, and I bought… local TV.”

Tilting her head, little Sophie asked incredulously, “Can he buy that?”

“Yeah,” snorted Rome. “Dad can buy whatever he wants. So? Local TV and…?”

“Huh?”

“Clock’s tickin’. Time’s running out. Local TV, and what did I say?” Rome drummed his fingers along your arm—a nervous habit. When Logan took far too long to answer, you pursed your lips, displeased. Of course he hadn’t been listening to Roman. Of fucking course.

Finally, Shiv cupped a hand over her mouth to whisper, “A potato.”

“Hey! That’s cheating!” Roman bit out, suddenly taking the game far more seriously than he should’ve. “No hints. Come on, Dad. You got this.”

Did he?

You watched curiously as Logan glanced down at the can, as if only just realizing what he was holding.

“We can skip a turn,” you said, apprehensive. “It’s okay, it’s no big deal.”

Nodding, Tom said, “Marcia, you can go.”

The wife vehemently shook her head in a defensive manner. “No, he—”

Suddenly, Iverson stood up from his seat on the couch, trying to take the can away from Logan. “You lost, Grandpa,” he said. “You lose.”

The words seemed to anger Logan, and his grip tightened around the can, refusing to let the young boy grab it. 

“You lose,” repeated Iverson.

Infuriated, the can came crashing across Iverson’s face with a sickening thud, and the young boy’s head went snapping sideways with the impact. You were on your feet immediately, too stunned to say anything as shocked yells and curses flooded into the room. Repressed memories of an equally young Roman on the ground, being kicked around bloody by Logan’s expensive foot flashed across your mind. On instinct, you pressed yourself closer to Roman, fingers curling around his arm. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” Kendall yelled, getting in between his father and his son. 

“I hardly touched him, it was just shock!” barked the older man. “Relax, son! Relax!”

“Take your hands off him! Get the fuck away!”

Both Rava and Kendall led a crying Iverson away into another room to inspect how badly he was hurt.

Silent, you slipped out as well, letting go of Roman to turn down the hall. You were breathing rather erratically, and had to press a palm to your chest to try and get your racing heart to quell its frantic pace. 

When Roman called out your name, quiet and concerned, you could feel tears prick the corners of your eyes. You hadn’t realized that he followed you.

“Sorry, I just—I’m sorry. I got overwhelmed,” you said, wrapping your arms around your stomach. You suddenly felt like a child all over again.

There was a lump in Roman’s throat as he watched you slump against the wall. He twisted his face in what he hoped was a reassuring expression. “No, yeah, it’s uh… a fuckin’ mess in there right now. I don’t blame you.”

“It just… reminded me of some bad memories. Of you. And your dad.”

The two of you locked gazes for a long while, both unsure of what else to say. Roman shifted his weight from foot to foot, scuffing the heel of his shoe against the pricey beige carpet.

“Fuck,” was what he finally came up with. “Sorry. C’mere.”

He held one arm open, and you leaned forward to just sink into him, loosely lacing your hands together around him, your forehead resting upon his shoulder. Neither of you really needed to say anything else—there was a silent understanding stretched thinly between you. You were there to witness the worst parts of him, and he was there to pick up the pieces of you that broke while watching.

“Hey, fuck-face,” greeted Roman as he swung into your office, looking a bit more weary than usual. “I have an offer to make you.”

“That can’t mean anything good, knowing you,” you responded, raising an eyebrow. The click-clacking of your keyboard halted to listen to him, encouraging him to continue.

Fiddling with his tie’s knot at the base of his neck, he pulled a grimace. “It’s good, actually. Great. I don’t know. Dad wants us to do family therapy together—publicize the whole thing to make it look like our family business is still… a family business.”

“Oh,” you said, still miffed. “That’s… manipulative. Family therapy? Have you, uhm, met your family?”

Roman leaned his weight onto your desk, staring at you expectedly. “Come with me. It’ll be fun. Sand, scorpions, and drama. Imagine it like a weekend getaway.”

The thought of sticking yourself right between a family feud didn’t sound at all appealing. “I don’t know, Ro…” You paused to pinch between your furrowed brows. “With everything that’s happened—what with Logan firing Kendall and what happened with Iverson last time…”

“You don’t have to go to the fuckin’ therapy itself. Just come down to New Mexico.” Roman reassured. With a sigh, he tacked on, “Dad wants you there. It’s good for the image. You’re his goddaughter, remember?”

“How could I forget?” you dryly replied. “Fine. But I’m only going for you, not him.”

A smile etched over his features. “Aw, you love me. You fuckin’ sap.”

“Yeah, fuck off, Romeo.”

You’d fallen asleep in the car. And, as per typical Roman fashion, he startled you awake by repeatedly flicking at your cheek until you swatted his fingers away. 

“We’re here,” he said in a sing-song voice. “New Mexico, baby.”

“Ugh, stop being so loud,” you replied, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

The two of you made your way onto Connor’s ranch. It was large and spacious, undoubtedly lavish while still keeping its old history intact—Connor was especially proud to point out the church on his property dating back all the way to the 1800s. Once inside, you greeted Shiv and Willa with a hug, Marcia with cheek kisses, and Tom with a steady handshake. Logan was last, who you awkwardly embraced, patting him on the back twice before pulling away.

“It’s good to see you here, Y/N. Thank you for coming,” he said. 

You knew he only wanted you here for the image. Did he even really care about you? 

“It’s good to be here,” you replied with a faux warm smile.

“You’ll be here for the photos tomorrow, yes?”

Roman watched as your smile faltered ever so slightly. “Yeah—yes, of course. I’ll be here.”

“That’s a good girl,” said Logan, taking another sip of his champagne. It seemed like every time you were around Logan, you were reduced back to a little child, nothing but an accessory to be dragged along and made the family look nice. 

There was a frown marring Roman’s features as he led you away from his father, to the other end of the room where his sister sat. “This is like a—like the first stages of an orgy. Kind of exciting but also super awkward.”

“And how many orgies have you been to?” you asked with a laugh, bumping your hip against his, knowing full and well that the answer was none.

“I’ll invite you next time.”

The atmosphere between Roman and Shiv was statically tense. They bickered for a few minutes about how Roman had left Shiv in the dark about the vote of no confidence. Your eyes darted back and forth between their argument until it finally ended with Shiv punching him in the arm.

“Ow,” Roman moaned, clutching his bicep. “Fuck you.”

Finally, the two of them begrudgingly smiled at each other. 

“I bet Dad’s gonna try winning at therapy,” said Shiv. 

“Well, he hasn’t done therapy with me yet. I’m an expert,” Roman quipped.

Both you and Shiv glanced incredulously at each other. “Really?”

“Mhm. This—” Roman pointed at himself, “—is what it looks like when you resolve all your issues.”

“Uh-huh,” Shiv skeptically said.

With a smile, you teased, “I don’t think someone who’s resolved all their issues would use humor as a deflecting mechanism.”

“Ugh. Shut up. You’re just jealous I’m funny,” Roman fired back. “Don’t even deny it. I see you giggling and hoo-ha-ing at my jokes all the fuckin’ time.”

Crossing her arms over her chest, Shiv said, “You know, my guy says that if Dad had had therapy, I wouldn’t need so much.”

You scoffed. “My guy says I have two father figures who didn’t really father me and left lasting impressions—which is just a nice way of saying they’ve fucked me up bad.”

“My guy’s surprised I got through it at all,” Roman chimed in. 

“I don’t think you got through it all,” snorted Shiv.

The two of them burst into another round of mocking imitations. 

Finally, Roman said, “I will have you both know that I’m very well-adjusted. You guys are just good at hiding it.” Then, as if to prove his own point wrong, he turned to tap Connor on the shoulder. “I just wanted to let you know that I think I’m going to reveal to him that you sexually abused me when I was a child.”

“Excuse me?” said Connor, baffled.

“Yeah, you just would not stop.”

You scowled. “God, Ro, that’s not funny.”

“You are one sick puppy,” Connor agreed. 

“You’re the one who kept trying to fuck me!” said Roman through a fit of giggles.

“Why would you say that? Stop saying that! You don’t really think that, do you?”

“Mmh, no. I’m fuckin’ with you. Like the way you fucked me as a baby.”

Connor frowned. “What is wrong with you? You’re exasperating.”

Both you and Shiv shook your heads. 

“Good luck with family therapy,” you told her. “Looks like it’ll be interesting.”

“Thanks,” she grumbled. “Really gonna need it. Ten bucks on someone running out before it’s finished.”

With a humored hum, you nodded. Though none of the siblings really wanted this to happen (well, Connor was up for debate), you doubted any of them would actually flake. “You’re on.”

When the therapist finally arrived, he went around the room, shaking everybody’s hand. Logan went up to the center of the room to acknowledge everybody present. “Right. Family. Mmh—we’re all gathered here in this beautiful home because there are things to address… and I believe we should address them. I think I explained all around that we’ll also have a small celebration of our coming together with photographs, tomorrow. Nothing fancy. Just a few simple, candid shots. Anyway, without further ado, Alon Parfit.”

The therapist stepped up next and gave his little speech about the courage it takes to go to therapy. Rome rolled his eyes to the side. It’s not like any of you were really given the choice.

“Thanks. This family is broken, and that has consequences,” said Connor. “A missed phone call today, and a couple dozen kids lose their jobs in China. Butterfly wings, but bigger. Huge wings—like a pterodactyl. Or the Smithsonian. So… let’s fix our wings.”

Both you and Roman glanced at each other, trying your best to smother down your amusement. 

“Barely comprehensible,” retorted Roman, and you couldn’t help but laugh.

You strode out of your bathroom in your pajamas, having just brushed your teeth and done your nightly routine before bed. It didn’t at all surprise you that Roman hadn’t moved from his spot, eagle-spread over the mattress, playing a little game on his phone.

“Move over,” you said, shoving at his legs to climb on beside him. “You have your own room, you know. Why are you here?”

Ignoring you, Roman asked, “Why the fuck is it so cold in here? We’re in the goddamn desert. My nipples are so fucking hard—feels like they’re going to fall off. Touch them!”

“Ew, Ro, I don’t want to touch your nipples—”

Roman took your hand anyway, pressing it against his chest.

“Wow. Hard nipples,” you dryly remarked, fixing him with an unimpressed stare. “Thanks for showing me. Good night.”

As you began clambering beneath the comforter, Roman kicked off his shoes and unbuttoned a few top buttons of his shirt. Despite your half-hearted protests, he slid into the space beside you.

“Just like when we were kids,” you whispered, staring up at the ceiling with a faint smile. “I swear we slept in each other’s rooms more often than in our own.”

“You talked in your sleep,” Roman snickered.

“Yeah? You snored way too loud.” You began mimicking the way he snored in between giddy laughter. “Honk shoo. Hoooonk shoo—”

Prodding a finger into your side, Roman retaliated, “You moved around too much.”

“You liked to be the small spoon.”

“You would kiss your stuffed animals before going to bed.”

This time, you let out a loud laugh. “God, I forgot about that. I miss them. I missed this.” Your hand found his beneath the blanket, lacing your fingers together. 

“Don’t draw anything on my face while I’m asleep,” he warned, turning on his side to face you. 

“Shut up and go to sleep,” you replied, eyes already closing. “G’night, Ro.”

“Nighty-night, bitch.”

He was nervous. You could see it in his eyes. The therapist had already called for the siblings and Logan to gather in the church for their session, but Roman lingered behind, scuffing his shoe against the sand. 

“Behave yourself, okay?” you told him, trying your best to give him a reassuring smile whilst buttoning up the top button of his dark blue shirt that was still hanging open. “Do it for Con and Shiv. I know this must be tough on all of you.”

Grateful for your tender comfort, Roman seemed a bit less nervous to head inside with the rest of his family. “Yes, mommy,” he teasingly bit out.

With a roll of your eyes, you shoved him away with a snort of indignant laughter, and watched as he slunk off to follow after his sister. Though Marcia and Willa and Tom offered for you to sit with them while waiting, you politely declined, needing some time alone in your room with your thoughts and a good book.

Not even half an hour later, Roman slipped through the doors of your bedroom, appearing slightly trodden on, scratching the back off his head in an anxious fashion.

“Ro?” you asked, sliding a crumpled receipt between the pages as a temporary bookmark, turning your full attention on him. “How’d it go?”

He gave you a smile—a weary one, full of secrets and doubt. “It was bullshit,” he whispered. For a moment, you wondered if tears were pricking his eyes, but that could’ve just been a trick of the broiling New Mexican sunlight. 

“You wanna talk about it?” You shifted on the bed to pat the spot beside you. With a small sigh, Roman crawled beside you, tugging his knees up to his chest, as if he was a child all over again.

“No. Fuck. Maybe later.”

“Okay, Rome. Are you okay?”

The man beside you rested his cheek against his leg. “Yeah, just… I don’t know. I fuckin’... I just clammed up.”

Without another word, you pulled him into a side hug, your nose pressing against the side of his head affectionately. 

“That’s okay,” you whispered, shutting your eyes as you leaned into him. “It’s okay to clam up sometimes.”

A hum, followed by a sigh. “Shiv is leaving. She has a meeting.”

“Lucky her. Will she be back?”

“I don’t know.” His voice was so quiet. Your heart ached for him. “Therapist wants us to reconvene this afternoon. If it’s just Connor and I with Dad… I don’t know. Doesn’t sound all that fun anymore.”

“Was it even fun in the first place?”

He gave you a half-hearted shrug.

You rubbed a comforting hand along his back. “We can always just bail.”

Pulling a grimace, Roman replied, “Dad would kill me.”

“Shiv bailed?”

Snorting, Roman shook his head. “Shiv doesn’t give a shit. Dad loves her anyway. Whatever fucked up version of love that is.”

A hesitant pause. “Well… if you’re staying, I’m staying.”

Your friend smiled loosely. “Don’t you ever… get sick of me?”

“Yeah, all the time, Ro,” you replied with no hesitation. “But I love you anyway. You know that, right?”

“Yeah. Whatever.”

The two of you laughed quietly, before you slipped your hands away from him, heading over to your bag to fish out a swimming suit. 

“C’mon—I saw a pool out in the back. How do you feel about going for a swim?”

The two of you were sitting side by side by the pool’s edge, legs dangling in the lukewarm water. He would flick water at your face every once in a while, taking great pleasure in the way your nose would wrinkle and how you’d lazily tell him to knock it off. 

Just as you were about to sink into the pool, the therapist came up to the water, shedding his fluffy white robe onto a chair. 

“You coming in for a swim?” you asked with a sweet smile. “The water’s nice.”

“Mmh, yeah, don’t be afraid of what’s down there. Pretend it’s our subconscious and just go for it,” Roman chimed in.

Parfit hummed, stepping closer to the edge. “Yeah, I know how to dive.”

“You gonna jump?” you said with a laugh, not really being serious. 

“You want me to jump?” asked Alon.

Both you and Rome grinned at each other. “Jump, jump, jump!” the two of you chanted.

“Jump, you fuckin’ pussy!” exclaimed Roman, though he was quick to shut his mouth when his therapist flung himself into the pool face-first.

“Oh, my God,” you said, flinching back as a wave of water drenched the both of you. It was all a blur, really. One moment you saw the pool water darkening with blood, and the next you were jumping in to help Parfit out. Roman was yelling for help as you dragged him up over the edge, eyes widening.

He was conscious, which was a good thing, but when he parted his lips to croak out a question, you noticed with horror how the entire front row of his teeth had been knocked out. Unsure of what else to do, you wrapped a towel around him and told him to put pressure on the wounds.

When Connor and a few cleaners came asking what had happened, Roman told them, “He just dived in and hit the bottom!”

“Did you hit your head?” asked Willa in concern. 

The therapist said something, but it was muffled behind the towel.

“He hit his teeth?” said Connor.

“Well, his teeth are in his head—kind of a central feature there,” said Rome, wincing as he saw all the blood pouring out of Parfit’s mouth. “I didn’t think he’d jump in head-first!”

“Yeah, well, just don’t let him go to sleep,” you said.

Parfit’s eyebrows pulled together. “I don’t wanna go to fuckin’ sleep!”

As they checked out his mouth, Willa told him that he should go to the hospital, despite Roman’s half-hearted protests that he looked okay. Eventually, it was agreed upon that Connor and Willa would take him.

“Fuckin’ great!” you heard Logan grumble. “And I was about to take advice from a clown who dives head-first into the shallow end of a pool! And now everybody’s fucking off!”

Marcia rubbed a consoling hand on her husband’s shoulder. “No, no, Roman and Y/N are still here. They’re here for the photos. Right?”

Subconsciously, you stepped closer to Roman just as Logan swung his gaze onto the both of you. The last ones standing.

“Sure,” Rome reluctantly said with a shrug. “I give good cheekbone. You?” He turned to look at you with pleading eyes.

You pursed your lips. “Yeah, uhm, yes. I just gotta go wash the therapist’s blood off of me.” With a half-hearted grin, you shook your head. “That’s a sentence I never expected to say.”

With that, you scuttled off upstairs, Roman following after you, the both of you leaving a trail of pool water in your wake.

The photoshoot went as well as it could’ve gone, considering both you and Roman were treading on thin ice around his father. You stood idly by the cameraman as Roman and Logan slowly treaded through the yellowed grass, discussing business matters beneath their breath. It wasn’t long before you were called forward, dressed in a smart white blouse and black slacks, to stand beside Logan while it was Roman’s turn to be benched. 

The fucked up godfather-goddaughter duo.

“So, uh, how has New Mexico been treating you, Uncle Logan?” you asked as politely as you could, walking alongside him. 

The older man shot you a sidelong glance. “Hot. Dry. Sandy. What else?”

“Ah, I, uhm—”

“Listen here, Y/N.” He stopped striding, and so did you. “You’re a good, dependable woman, with some wits about you. My son seems to be just the opposite.”

You frowned at his words, not overly fond of the way he always belittled your closest friend, his own son.

“I need you to guide him. Keep his head on his shoulders. I’ve just told him to call Japan, as COO, and handle a rocket launch. He’s in a big role now—we can’t afford him to be… easily swayed.”

We? you thought. 

“What are you asking me, Uncle?”

Logan resumed walking, taking your arm to gently tug you along for the photographer to snap more shots. There was a tight feeling in your chest.

“I’m asking you to keep him by my side. Deter him from any of my enemies, which have already corrupted his brother and sister. You’ve always been a loyal member of our company, and I see you as a daughter, more than anything. With you, Romulus will be a much more formidable force.”

You swallowed hard. Why did his words feel so hollow? “I…”

“Smile for the camera,” he said.

You nodded, smiling stiffly.

Finally, the photographer asked for Logan to step away so he could get a couple shots of you and Rome.

“So…?” your friend asked, immediately winding an arm around your waist. “Spill. What did pops say to you? You looked like you were about to shit yourself.”

“Shut up,” you told him. “I’ll tell you later.”

The cameraman waved his arm to catch both of your attentions. “Can you guys move closer?”

Obnoxiously, Roman tugged you towards him so any remaining space between the two of you was effectively gone. He smushed his cheek to yours with a wide beam, your heads bumping against one another. “This close enough for you?” At the photographer’s thumbs up, Roman retorted under his breath, “This guy probably has a kink for nonconsensual filming during sex. Bet he has an entire USB filled with this shit in his mom’s basement or something.”

You couldn’t help it—you bursted out laughing, clutching onto Roman’s forearms as you grinned so large it was a wonder your face didn’t split into two. Whether you were laughing at Roman’s crude predictions, or the ludicrous nature of the way your faces were pressed up against one another, you didn’t quite know.

The photographer snapped a couple dozen photos of you genuinely laughing with Roman grinning like a fool before finally saying he had gotten plenty of pictures. More than enough to appease the press, that was for sure.

Kendall was in New Mexico, much to both your and Rome’s surprise. And, to worsen it all, he was high.

“Uh, can you drop me a pin so I know you’re okay?” Roman asked over the phone to his giggling brother, most likely coked up and inhaling several lungfuls of secondhand smoke. From your seat beside him, you could hear Kendall’s faint voice murmur something unintelligible. Growing frustrated, Roman spoke again, “Just drop me the fucking pin. I’m not going to come get you.”

He gave you a glance. You knew what he was asking almost instantly. The two of you were going to go get him.

“Just do it, Kendall. Do it now. Are you doing it?”

Another pause. Then a notification popped up on Roman’s phone. 

“Alright, Y/N and I are coming to get you, man. Just, uh… sit tight, okay?” With that, Roman hung up. 

His father, who had overheard the entire conversation, furrowed his wispy white brows. “Are you doing the call with Japan?”

Of course, he had just overheard that his son was out there, possibly on the brink of an overdose, and he was worried about a fucking business call. You squared your jaw and turned away from the both of them, shrugging on a coat to get ready to leave in search of Kendall. Though the two of you had a strained relationship at best, he was still more of a brother to you than anything. 

“Uh, yeah… yes, I will,” Roman finally said. “But, um, I’m gonna go get Kendall. He’s here and he’s not great.”

A tense silence. For a moment, you wondered if Logan would tell his youngest son to stay and leave his older brother to fend for himself. His eyes darted to you for a brief moment as you grabbed a set of car keys out of the dozens laid out. 

Kendall dying of an overdose would do Logan’s company no good. With a nod, he beckoned for the both of you to leave. Limbs suddenly unfreezing, Rome jolted towards you, ushering you out of the house to one of the cars. 

The drive was tense and quiet, occasionally interrupted by Roman nervously drumming his fingers against the steering wheel and asking you an absentminded question. You’d reply with a two-worded sentence, before the two of you lapsed into more worried silence. 

The house Roman pulled up to was dingy and dark, looking as if it were somehow sunken into itself. The flimsy metal fences were wilting and rusted. Roman knocked on the door with faded yellow paint thrice.

“Kendall?” he asked. “Kendall! Hey, open up!”

Abruptly, the door rocked open on its squeaky hinges, startling both you and Roman. The stench of piss and weed hit you like a shockwave. You lingered by the doorway, studying the room with narrowed eyes. Kendall was near the door, with a few other men smoking nearby.

“Oh, wow,” said Roman, shifting his weight from his toes to his heels. “Hi. You guys gonna offer me a cup of tea?”

High out of his mind, Kendall took another hit from a bong before slurring out, “Yo, Chang, show them your wolf tattoo, c’mon.”

With a greasy smirk, the man leaned forward and pulled his shirt down to show you a shoddy tattoo that only barely resembled a snarling wolf, howling obnoxiously. “You like my wolf, pretty lady?” He was getting far too close for your taste, so you stepped closer to Roman. 

“Very nice,” you dryly said. “Hey, Kenny D, can we go now? It’s, uh, it’s getting late—”

Ignoring you, Kendall began introducing the rest of the men in the ragtag group, “Yo, this is, uh, Chang, Tanner, and Mac.”

“So great to meet you guys,” Roman quickly replied, scratching the back of his head in a fidgety fashion. “Let’s get out of here. C’mon.”

Another hit. More smoke filled the room and you wrinkled your nose with distaste. Kendall drawled out, “You know, I was thinking I probably shouldn’t talk to you, given the, uh, ongoing situation apropos of my legal action against you as a board member, for your failure to fulfill your fiduciary duty and breaching my employment contract. Then I thought about it some more and was like—who the fuck cares?”

Snapping his fingers, Roman pointed at the white powder Kendall was lining up to snort. “What—what is this? What is that? Fuckin’... crank?”

Snorting, Kendall retorted, “We’ve been having a lot of fun, Mom. Seriously, you should try this.”

Heaving out a dry laugh, you spat out, “No, thanks. Roman and I aren’t looking to kill ourselves tonight.”

“I hear that shit makes you crash like an airbus full of eggs,” said Rome, eyeing his brother surreptitiously. 

“Not if you stay high,” chimed one of the other druggies.

Kendall snorted. “Tanner makes good points.”

“Tanner is too fucked up on thirty different kinds of drugs to make good points,” you haughtily said. “Kendall, please, let’s just get the fuck out of here.”

The older brother tried to click open his lighter, but it seemed to be out of gas.

“Oh, hey, I can fix that,” said Roman, plucking the little prism out of Kendall’s hands and chucking it across the room with a clang. “Great. Problem solved. Let’s go.”

“Fine, fine,” Kendall begrudgingly said. “Alright, I’m coming. Family therapy n’ all that.”

One of the other men blew out a stream of smoke before saying, “Hey, man, your friends fucking suck.”

“Not my friend,” slurred Kendall. “Brother. And his girlfriend.”

Neither you nor Roman had the heart to correct him.

Kendall clapped the both of you on your shoulders as you swung the creaky door open. “You know what, guys? They’re actually pretty okay. Pretty chill.”

The high group yelled a bunch of farewells as you rushed out of the house, the two brothers in tow. The returning drive was much louder than the journey on the way to get Kendall, because he kept turning on the radio to play music obnoxiously loud, and giggled and laughed and made crude noises as Roman took a work call about the launch in Japan. He so desperately didn’t want to disappoint his father, you felt sorry for him.

By the time the three of you made your way back onto Connor’s ranch, you were dead tired and in dire need of some sleep. 

Kendall was still excited and giddy, banging his fists against the windows and flinging the door open to yell, “What up, motherfuckers!” to everybody gathered in the kitchen. “Sorry I’m late. What are we arguing about?”

Shifty eyes darting to both you and Roman leaning against each other by the edge of the room, he barked out, “What the fuck’s wrong with him?”

“I’m off my nuts, folks. Off my fuckin’ nuts!” exclaimed Kendall, making for the fridge to touch everything inside, eventually grabbing an unopened bottle of beer. 

Roman cleared his throat. “Uh, Dad, just so you know—everything’s good with the launch. I talked to the guy, and—”

“He doesn’t fucking care, Rome!” interrupted Kendall. “He doesn’t even notice. Dad—give him a high five, or something. C’mon. He’s waiting… with those fuckin’ puppy dog eyes of his. Fuck.”

“Stop it, Kendall,” you said with a frown. 

Kendall only parroted your words with a mocking tone, which made Roman bristle beside you.

It seemed that Logan had no interest in putting up with any of his sons’ bullshit, instead placing all his attention on a sour Shiv behind the kitchen island. They argued more, Logan angry at his daughter for leaving their family therapy to go meet with one of his enemies. It was until Kendall made a distasteful joke about Logan being a high-class hooker that Willa abruptly stood up, bidding everyone a goodnight and storming upstairs. You felt bad for her, having half the mind to follow her up. But you stayed by Roman’s side, trying your best to swallow around the lump in your throat as Logan argued with Connor now.

Arguments after arguments. That’s all it was with this family.

Shiv was quick to turn tail and leave when Logan called her a coward, Tom hot on her heels. You buried your weary face within your palms. Just as you pulled your hands away, Logan was storming towards Kendall for cracking another distasteful joke—this time about his father’s abusive uncle.

Your stomach lurched with the possibility of witnessing Logan hit another one of his sons, and Roman let his hands slip away from you as he struggled with whether or not he should help Kendall. But before he could decide, Logan called Ken a fucking nobody and staggered off with Marcia in tow. 

Kendall pulled a grimace before taking another swig of his beer. He didn’t seem all too affected by his father’s harsh words.

“Good night, Con,” you quietly said as you slipped past him, going out of your way to ignore Kendall. 

“Night, guys,” Roman whispered to his brothers, crestfallen. 

The two of you wordlessly made your way upstairs and into Roman’s room, which was closer than yours. You didn’t bother changing—simply crawling beneath the cold bed’s blanket, making space for him to climb in after you. Roman dug his knuckles into his tired eyes. 

“I clammed up,” Roman whispered, pressing his nose into the base of your throat as you wound your arms around him. “Again.”

“That’s okay, Roman,” you said, repeating the very same words you had said to him only hours before. “I like clams, you know.”

“Yeah? I’m more of an oyster guy, myself.”

“Mmh. Those are good, too.”

“Mhm.”

Faintly, you felt his lips brush against your neck just before you fell into the gentle clutches of sleep.

You’d honestly expected Roman to ask you to be his plus one for Shiv’s wedding. But, to your surprise, he’d found himself a girlfriend at Tom’s bachelor party—a beautiful blonde woman that had sucked the groom off and made him swallow his own load.

When Roman told you, you really thought he’d been joking at first. Nevertheless, you were happy for him, even if he was just with Tabitha to spite Tom in his own twisted way. 

By the time Shiv’s wedding rolled around, you decided to go without a date, more than happy to enjoy the night on your own. You stepped out of the car, thanking the driver with a smile, before heading into the venue, your eyes bright and wide as you took in the intricately decorated space.

You caught sight of Roman with his date by the entrance, his mother on his other side.

“Hello!” she greeted you with her lilting British accent. “Y/N, darling, how’ve you been? I don’t think I’ve seen you since you were a little doll—I remember your pigtails like it was yesterday. How you and Roman tracked mud into the house, covered in twigs and bristles.”

Leaning forward, she pressed kisses to both your cheeks and gave you a loose hug. “Hi, no, yeah—I’m, uh, I’m doing great.”

“Where’s your date, darling? Is he running late?”

For a moment, you let your eyes slide over to Roman, who gave you an apologetic shrug. 

“No date today,” you told her, smiling tightly. “Just me.”

“Splendid, splendid,” she said, and began to prattle on about how marriages were a miserable affair anyway. 

As politely as you could, you moved away from Caroline to hug her youngest son, your oldest friend.

“You look nice, Ro,” you told him, patting his freshly-shaven cheek twice.

“Me? Look at you!” he replied, whistling obnoxiously. Then, in a ridiculous British accent (in an obvious mockery of his mother), he crooned, “Give us a spin, love.”

You didn’t spin, but you rolled your eyes fondly. The dress you wore today was a deep shade of violet, with a tight bodice that criss-crossed over your chest and flowed loosely down past your hips. Your hair was up and away from your face, which effectively took the option for you to nervously fidget with it off the table.

Finally, you turned your gaze to Roman’s date. “Hi, I’m Y/N. It’s nice to finally meet you,” you kindly told her, holding your hand out to shake hers. 

To your surprise, she pulled you into a hug instead, smiling widely. “Yes, likewise! God, Roman’s told me all about you.”

“He has?” You arched a brow to him just as he glanced away, scratching the back of his head. “All good things, I hope.”

“Mostly, yeah.”

With a laugh, you shook your head. “Well, I do look forward to talking to you some more—enjoy the party and the company. Bye, Rome—Caroline.”

The first few hours flew by in a breeze. There was a whole commotion with Shiv being upset that Logan was planning on coming, despite her wishes for him to stay well away. Rome had quietly asked you if you thought he was coming because he was worried about the launch. You didn’t have the heart to tell him that Logan could really care less about it, which is why he handed the job over to Roman in the first place.

Then the party came next, filled with mingling socialites and expensive wines and drinks, food that tasted like it cost a hundred dollars a bite. You floated through, speaking to dozens of people who knew your name, but you didn’t know a single one of theirs. It felt lonely, in a way.

Finally, you were able to find Shiv amongst the packed throng, congratulating her on the marriage.

“You’re tethered to Tom now,” you joked, wrinkling your nose at the thought. “You’ll certainly have your hands full with him.”

The both of you grimaced at your wording. 

“Listen, Shiv, just know that I’m here for you if you ever need anything, okay?”

With a hum, the redhead took a drawn-out sip of her drink. “You took the photos with dad in New Mexico.”

“Yeah?”

“You with him, then?”

You blinked. “No… I mean, he’s my godfather, sure—”

“Yeah, well he’s my dad, but that seems to mean very little to him.” She regarded you over the rim of the champagne flute. “I can’t get a read on you, Y/N. You’re so obviously not happy with my dad. Why do you keep taking his side?”

Before you could respond, Roman came sidling up to both of you.

“Hey, dipshits! What’re we talking about?” he asked in a sing-song voice. 

“Nothing,” you quickly responded. “Where’s Tabitha?”

Waving away your question, Roman responded, “Eh. Off mingling. You know her.”

“Not really, actually—”

It was then that Caroline came up, having just asked two strangers how long they thought Shiv and Tom would last. She’d been asking just about everyone at the wedding that question, making them deeply uncomfortable as they were forced to stammer out a hasty protest that it’d last forever. Or, at the very least—a long time.

“I like your girlfriend, Ro,” she told her son. 

“Oh, thank you. I met her at a sex party where she was giving the groom a blowjob.”

You did a double take, not expecting him to be so abrash with his words to his mother, right in front of the bride. To your relief, neither Shiv nor Caroline seemed to take him seriously.

“Funny, Ro. So funny,” you said, trying your best to play off your reaction. 

With a nod and a hum, Caroline chimed, “You should marry her.”

This time, it was Roman’s turn to be shocked. “Excuse me?”

For some reason, you felt a sick feeling curl within your stomach. Caroline’s eyes burned into you, but you refused to meet her gaze.

Finally, she turned to her daughter. “Shiv, stop taking everything so seriously. I’m trying to sparkle. When people ask me how long I give it, I say forever. Or—at least, it’ll feel like forever.”

With that, Caroline hurried off, calling after a waiter carrying a tray of hors d'oeuvres. 

“She says she’s being impish,” Roman said.

“Well, we know where you get that trait from, then,” you dryly remarked, earning you a flick to the ear, which made you smile and swat Roman’s hands away.

With a tired sigh, Shiv pinched the space between her brows. “She’s being a stone-cold bitch.”

Roman snickered. “Freud is having a field day right now.”

“Fuck off,” Shiv spat, before taking her leave to find her husband.

“How’s socializing been? I saw you nearly fall asleep on a business associate a while ago,” leered Rome, mischief dancing amongst his molten irises.

“Trust me, you’d fall asleep, too. He just kept talking and talking about the future of cybertechnology—I already put up with enough of that from Connor.”

Clearing his throat, Roman patted your shoulder firmly. “Hey, listen—you heard what my mom said, right? That I should propose to Tabs?”

It felt like static started playing in your ears. “What?” you asked, baffled. 

“She said I should marry her.”

“Rome… you’ve known her for less than a month.”

“And?” 

“She’s—” You stared at him for a moment, incredulous. “Ro, she’s not going to say yes. You guys barely know each other.”

The way Roman’s features contorted into genuine disbelief made you pull your brows together. He scoffed, “Well, just because you said no, doesn’t mean she will.”

Again, you parroted, “What? What are you talking about? When have you ever proposed to me?”

“Oh, don’t pretend like you don’t remember.”

You crossed your arms over your chest. “No, Romeo, I genuinely don’t know what you’re talking about.”

With a sigh, Roman scratched at his head. “We were like, fuckin’ sixteen or something—I asked you if you wanted to get married, and you said no.”

Suddenly, the faint memory of Roman joking about marriage and the white-picket fence life came to the forefront of your mind. The two of you had found an abandoned playground and sat side by side on the creaking, rusted swings. They were clearly meant for children a decade younger than you, but neither of you cared. The night was cold, and Roman’s nose was red, his breath misting with each sigh he took. A wave of nostalgia overtook you.

“Ro, we were kids. And you didn’t actually ask me. You kind of just… told me that we should. You can’t—ugh. I didn’t know you were being serious.”

It ached within your chest when Roman drew himself away from you. 

“I wasn’t being serious.”

“Then why are we having this conversation?” you asked, hating the way your voice broke under the weight of your words. “You’re a grown adult, Roman. If you want to propose to Tabitha, you do that.”

With an unnecessary amount of hostility, Roman spat out, “Fine. I will.” But you saw right through him. He was putting up a front because of how hurt he was, just like he always did.

“Okay.”

“Fuck you. When she says yes, you’re not invited to the wedding.”

There was so much you wanted to throw back at him. The sentences lodged in your throat—too many, all at once. With a sharp inhale and the familiar sting of tears in the corner of your eyes and the bridge of your nose, you turned away and stormed back into the party, your dress fluttering in your wake.

She was brushing her teeth, and Roman was lounging on the bed. It was a tender moment of domesticity that was rare for the both of them. But her mind was on what she was going to do when she returned home, and his mind was on you. How you’d looked like he’d slapped you when he told you that you wouldn’t be invited to his wedding. If it was even happening. Which it would.

“You know, you’re fucking great,” Roman called out to Tabitha, face smushed against the mattress. 

“Thank you!” she said, smiling around the foamy toothbrush.

“You’re not a head fuck. Or a bitch or a leech.”

The blonde rinsed her mouth. “You say such pretty things.”

“Hm. You never once asked to stay over, or how it works with my dad, or the trust…”

Clearing her throat, Tabitha made her way from the bedroom to sit in front of the vanity table beside the bed. “I’m just pathologically incurious.”

A beat of silence. Roman scrutinized her reflection in the mirror, as she busied herself with rubbing moisturizer into her cheeks. “What if I was prepared to marry you?”

Her hands halted in their ministrations and she locked eyes with him through the mirror. “Hello?” she asked, holding the same incredulous tone you had a few hours ago.

“Hi.”

She laughed as if it was a joke, and Roman shrugged. 

“What? Shiv’s getting married. Kendall got married, too—”

The woman nodded emphatically as she pushed away from the table and moved to sit beside him on the bed, “I see. So how about you come down from Mount Olympus and propose to a mere mortal?”

“Yeah, what if?”

The two of them stared at each other for a moment longer.

“No,” she said.

“No?”

Giggling, she shook her head. “You’re crazy.”

“Why is this crazy?”

It took another prolonged second for Tabitha to realize that Roman was being genuine. “Because this isn’t a normal relationship, Roman.”

“What? Why?”

Tabitha chewed on the inside of her cheek. “Well… for one thing, we never fuck?”

A flicker of insecurity flashed across his face. “Yeah, we do,” he protested.

“Mmh, no, we don’t.”

“C’mon, Tabs. We do—we’ve just been busy, is all.” Roman slid off the bed, suddenly feeling uncomfortable in his own skin.

Shaking her head, Tabitha replied, “No, you, like, kind of jerked off near me once. We didn’t even make eye contact!”

“Yeah, alright, there’s no need to be disgusting.” Shame coiled hot and heavy within his chest.

“To be honest, Roman, I’ve had way more sexual contact with the groom than I have with you.”

Groaning, Roman pulled at his face. “Ugh, c’mon, I asked you not to talk about that!”

“Look, I’ve slept with a lot of guys, Roman Roy, and if that’s gonna be a problem then you’ve gotta say—!”

“No, it’s not a problem. It’s Tom’s issue, not mine. I just—I don’t… look, do you wanna get married or not?” He finally locked eyes with her.

Tabitha smiled again, though this time it was distant and sympathetic. Tilting her head, she asked, “Babe… do you think this is how to get someone to stay?” Another long silence. Roman swallowed hard, and looked away from her. “Are you sure you’re not projecting on me? That you’re not overcompensating in this relationship for another one?”

You. It was clear she was alluding to you. She wasn’t mad about it, either. She could tell that Roman’s heart was given to another since the moment she met him, even if he didn’t know it just yet.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Roman stiffly said. With that, he stood up. “I’m gonna go. Satellite launch shit. Bye.”

Tabitha watched him practically scramble out of the room, uncharacteristically somber. 

Three knocks on your door. They were soft and hesitant, only barely there. You’d only just gotten out of the shower, toweling off your hair, clad only in a loose white tee and your underpants. When you hastily slid on a pair of sweats, you made for the door, pulling it open just a sliver to see who it was.

Roman was on the other side. His hair was disheveled to no return, as if he’d been endlessly carding his fingers through the strands.

“Are you sucking someone off in here, or can I come in?” he asked.

With pursed lips, you stepped aside to give him space to amble through the doorway, and you gently shut it behind you. Roman was a mess, you could see it clear as day.

“You okay?”

“Yeah. Why would I be? My sister’s officially getting married tomorrow. Woohoo.” He pumped a limp fist into the air.

“I see right through you, Roman Roy,” you said. The faux confidence in his composure seemed to slip right through the cracks of his fingers with each second.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you tentatively spread your arms. Relief flooded his features and he surged forward, embracing you tightly. His nose found your neck as he inhaled your familiar scent in, and his fingers curled within the fabric of your shirt.

“I asked Tabitha. She said no.”

“I know, Ro. Or else you wouldn’t be here.” You held him all the closer. “I’m sorry.”

“Shut up. Just… just hold me.”

And so you held him for what felt like hours, until you drifted off into unconsciousness. Roman stayed awake beside you, watching you, observing all your relaxed features he had already memorized for years by now. By the time the clock on the wall read three in the morning, he gently slipped away from your grasp, and made his way back into his room. 

Tabitha was deep asleep, and his side of the bed was left untouched. Roman bit into his lip so hard it began to bleed, before heading into the bathroom. He laid down in the cold bathtub and fell asleep there, as if he were a dog shunned out by his owners. 

Shiv was beautiful in her wedding dress. Granted, she was beautiful in her salmon-hued outfit the previous night, but she seemed to glow on this particular day. When you had told her of such sentiments, Shiv merely rolled her eyes and scoffed, before tugging you into a hug.

“I wish I had sisters,” she whispered when she pulled away. “My brothers are so… eugh.”

“I know. Eugh.”

The two of you laughed, and linked arms when the photographer asked for the both of you to smile and look at the camera. Several snaps later, you were ushered off to the side so the families could take pictures with the bride and groom. Finally, when it was time for siblings and their respective partners, it left a dull ache in your chest to see Roman and Tabitha leaning all over each other, as if what Rome had told you yesterday hadn’t actually happened.

“Y/N, get in here,” said Shiv, beckoning for you. “C’mon!”

Hesitant, you scooched into the other end of the group, where Connor and Willa were leaning against one another. You smiled for the camera, and took great relief when you asked to see the picture later on, noting how your smile looked passably genuine. You’d always been good at masking your emotions. It was just a trait you had to adopt, growing up around the Roys.

Once the ceremony took place, the party took off in full-swing. You flitted from group to group, enjoying the amicable atmosphere and all the free food. 

It was when you were in an engaging conversation with Stewy about money laundering schemes did Roman finally rush up to you, a phone held up to his ear. Without even letting you say goodbye to Stewy, he was grabbing onto your arm and rudely dragged you away, despite your surprised protests.

“Shh—I’m on the phone, here!” He glared at you for a moment before speaking into the device again, “Sorry, yeah. Lemme get to some place more quiet. Yup, yeah, I got it—it’s streaming. Connecting.”

“Ro, is this about your little satellite launch thing?” you asked, allowing him to shove you into a ridiculously lavish gilded bathroom, squeezing in after you. 

With a frown, he replied, “It’s not little. I reorganized this shit and pushed the launch for today as, like, a fuckin’ wedding gift to Shiv, or whatever, but she’s being a stuck-up carbon-neutral bitch and doesn’t even wanna bother watching it. So you’re gonna watch it with me.”

You jumped onto the sink, and he leaned back so that your knee was grazing his side. You peered over his shoulder to look at the screen, which was still frozen on the livestream’s loading page.

“If nothing comes up in the next two minutes, I’m leaving.”

“Just shut up and give it a second—oh, there. Rocket.”

The two of you intently watched the shuttle prepare for takeoff. Plumes of smoke filled almost half the screen. That was normal for a launch right?

Then, before either of you could say a word about it, a large explosion tore through the entire spacecraft, angry shades of orange and ochre filling the screen. That definitely wasn’t normal for a launch. The blast looked so severe that it’d be a miracle if any of the billion-dollar equipment survived at all.

Dead silence stretched thin between the two of you. It was broken when Roman sharply inhaled, turning the power off and shoving the phone into his suit. He turned, brows furrowed, meeting your worried eyes. You were still far too shocked to say anything.

He cleared his throat and began to wash his hands beside you, arm grazing your thigh in his haste. Neither of you said a word. Once he toweled them dry, he patted your knee, checked his reflection, and strode out of the bathroom as if nothing had happened.

It took you a few seconds to get over your frozen shock and follow after him, meandering through the crowd. You murmured a hasty apology when you accidentally trod on a man��s shoe, calling after Roman, who was intent on disappearing behind everyone.

When you finally found him again, he was downing strong drinks that he had asked Tabitha to go fetch, having just listened to Gerri tell him that he was looking at potential corporate manslaughter.

“Roman…?” you asked, which startled him into sitting up straight on the couch. You fumbled for your words. “I, uh… are you okay?”

“Good. Great. Yup, yup, yup—I’m doing fantastic. C’mon, it’s time for dinner! Let’s go, mom’s probably going to make some shitty toast about how much of a slut Shiv was in high school. Don’t wanna miss that, do we?”

Pursing your lips, you put a hand on his shoulder. “Romeo, I just think we should, I don’t know, talk about this—?”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” he stressed, stepping away so that your hand fell back to your side. “Gerri’s gonna take care of it. It’ll be fine.” Judging by his petrified countenance, he seemed not to have faith in his own words.

You watched as he walked off, taking Tabitha’s hand and leading her to the dinner tables. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you found your own seat at the end of the family longtable, downing the water in the glass in front of you in one go.

One by one, the Roy family gave their speeches for Shiv. Their words mostly flew over your head—you couldn’t really concentrate on the repeated sentiments when you’d just witnessed an explosion that Roman caused—which he refused to talk about with you. After dinner, it was time for more dancing, which you were really not in the mood for. But when Logan asked for your hand halfway through a song, you couldn’t find it in yourself to say no to your godfather.

You wondered if he knew about the launch. If he cared, even. Probably not.

“What’s wrong, dear?” he asked. “You look down. Did Romulus do something?”

“No,” you hastily said, a beat too soon. “I’m just a bit tired, is all.”

“Well, you know who to come to if something’s gone… awry.”

“Of course, Uncle Logan.”

The rest of the dance was spent in comfortable silence. Or, as comfortable as you could be around your tempestuous godfather. You thanked him for the dance once the song ended, before rushing off to go find a bathroom to lock yourself in for a quiet moment to yourself.

Half an hour later, when you psyched yourself up to slip out, you immediately bumped into Tom.

“Hey, Y/N, enjoying the party?”

“Yeah, uhm—yes, it’s been great. Congratulations, by the way.”

“Thanks, thanks.” He rocked back on his heels awkwardly. “So, uh, you heard about Kendall, right?”

“What? What about him?”

Surprise etched over his features. “You don’t know? He planned a takeover. Yeah, Shiv is furious about it. He’s disappeared for a while now, I don’t know where he is.”

Your mouth dropped open as you struggled for words. “Sorry, excuse me, I have to go.” You brushed past the groom, off to find Roman to ask him what the hell was going on.

When you finally found him, he was just beginning to call Gerri over.

“Did you hear anything yet?” he asked her. He gave you a glance once you came up to his side, and he slung an arm over your hips—which was his way of nonverbally apologizing for being an asshole earlier today. He needed your comfort now more than anything.

“About?” 

“Japan. Like, how many died—how many bodies they found?”

Gerri blinked. “Yeah, you didn’t hear?”

Dread filled your stomach. 

“No?”

“None,” said the woman.

“None? Like—none none? None at all?”

Shrugging, Gerri said, “Two guys lost their thumbs, and there might be an arm that they can’t save but… they might.”

Instant relief lifted the weight off your shoulders. “So no casualties?”

“No, but it’s still tragic how—”

“Oh, my God,” Roman interrupted. “So—you’re—you fucking kidding me? This is amazing! Just an arm and a couple fucking thumbs? Jesus, this is great!” He burst into a fit of laughter, which made Gerri roll her eyes and walk away, clearly busy with the entire Kendall situation on her plate, as well. 

Roman grabbed at your shoulders, shaking you with his excitement. “Did you hear that? I’m not a murderer!”

You took his hands, squeezing them with a warm smile. “Congrats. The bar is in hell, but congrats.”

With a strange noise emitting from his throat, Roman surged forward to hug you, squeezing you so tightly that you had to tap his shoulder repeatedly to remind him to loosen up. 

“Do you wanna go dance? Let’s go dance!” he exclaimed over the surging music, pushing you to the dance floor. “C’mon, we’ll dance with Tabitha, let’s go, move your ass!”

For a moment, you let yourself forget about business and the takeover, smiling and laughing as you shuffled along to the beat with your best friend and his girlfriend. You let yourself believe that things were going to be okay.

Kendall joined the dance floor with his children an hour later. There was a haunted look to his eyes, but you chalked it up to his guilt for the company takeover without telling his siblings. 

The next day, when you learned of the caterer who got high off his mind and crashed into the lake not too far from the venue, you never put the pieces together that Kendall was in the car with him.

It wasn’t Roman who became a murderer at his sister’s wedding. It was Kendall.

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[mellifiedprincess]

hii :) this is my first time writing on here, so please be kind to me. i do appreciate constructive criticism though!

a/n: while there isn’t any smut in this, there are some suggestive themes. there is also mention of anxiety

ANXIOUS MY LOVE?

jack champion x reader

He was spiraling. You could see it in his eyes, as soon as you looked over at him. He was freaking and you weren’t quite sure how to help. You couldn’t quite tell how deep in his thoughts he was at the moment.

You knew you needed to get him somewhere quiet though. Somewhere away from the prying eyes of reporters surrounding the red carpet.

“Hey, Jack? Hey-“ You pause as he meets your eyes. The whites of his tinged with pink from holding back tears. A soft worried smile makes its way to your face, and you place a comforting hand on his arm. “I’m gonna get you somewhere a little more quiet, okay?” All he can manage to do for now is nod.

You’re not sure if it’s the bright lights, the shouting from every direction, maybe even the nerves of everyone he loves watching the premiere of his new movie. Maybe it’s all of that and then some, but there’s one thing you know for a fact and that is he’s on the verge of an anxiety attack. You make quick steps to find the entrance of the building the premiere is being held in, avoiding the yells from cameramen trying to get pictures of your boyfriend.

You finally make it inside and find a quiet room, pushing him inside quickly, before locking the door making sure no one can disturb you two. “I’m just gonna let your mom know what’s going on. I don’t want her to panic when she can’t find us.”

After sending her a quick text, you stand in front of Jack, taking his hands into your own. “You wanna tell me what’s going on in that pretty brain of yours?” You tilt your head a bit to look up at him, making eye contact so he knows he has your full undivided attention.

He’s leaning against a counter, big brown eyes staring straight into yours.

“It’s just a lot at once. This is my first big movie role, you know. I’m worried about disappointing you and disappointing my mom.

What if I’m a shit actor and this is all I’m ever gonna get because I suck so bad at doing the one thing I love.” Jack pauses, pulling you closer to his body, wrapping his arms completely around you and lays his head on top of yours before continuing.

“I just- We all have spent so much of our time on this movie. And not just the cast and crew, I’m talking about my mom too. She’s done so much for me. She’s given so much of her time for me.” He takes a breath in, his words getting caught in his throat.

“And you-“ He pauses again, moving his hands to cup your face. He smiles, his dimples peeking through, and then places a soft kiss to your lips. “You have been nothing but supportive, patient, and shown me nothing but love.”

You can hear the emotion in his voice. You can see the tears he’s trying his best to hold back. You can feel the slight shake in his hands.

“I’m terrified right now, baby. I just don’t want to disappoint you.”

You place your hands on top of his, still resting on your cheeks. “Jack, I love you, okay? Your mom loves you too. And I’m willing to bet, she’d agree with me when i say, you could never disappoint us. We know how much you put into this. We know how hard you’ve worked.

You remember that little music video you made for school? About the pythagorean theorem.” A blush coats the apples of his cheeks, you know he hates that video. You love it though.

“Do you know how proud I was of you when you made that? You stepped outside of your comfort zone, and made something hilarious.” Jack shakes his head and he gives you a small laugh. “My point is, you can’t disappoint us. Cause no matter what you do, we’re gonna keep loving you and cheering you on.”

You move your hand down to his bicep, squeezing it before rubbing it up and down. “I seriously don’t deserve you.” Jack mumbles as he leans down to place another kiss to your lips. This time he deepens it, it lasting a lot longer than the other one. “Yeah, well you can prove your worth later when we’re alone.” You mumble back.

“We’re alone now.”

You push at his chest as his lips move down to your jaw. “I mean later in the privacy of our hotel room. Besides, my very attractive boyfriend is in this movie we’re about to watch. Can’t miss that, now can we?” You take your thumb and wipe away the pink lipgloss from his lips, a little more swollen from the heated kiss you two shared just moments ago. He grabs your hand before you pull it away and places a kiss to the palm of it, before grasping it in his.

“I guess you’re right.” Jack says as he rolls his eyes affectionately. You let out a small laugh, shaking your head at him. “But seriously, are you feeling better?” Physically you can tell he is, but you being you needed him to verbally confirm he was okay, before going back out there.

He smiles down at you once again and grabs your chin, kissing you one more time before answering.

“Yes baby, i’m feeling much better because of you.”

“Good! Now let’s go watch little Jack run around with that big ass forehead on display.”

“Oh you’re paying for that one later.” Jack says as he pinches your sides, making you squeal with laughter.

His little threat meant nothing to you, you were just happy he was feeling better.

#jack champion x reader #ethan landry x reader #jack champion #big forehead

[steddieas-shegoes]

For the requests: Steve has a good relationship with his parents & when they come back from wherever & someone (Nancy/Robin) tells them about the UD & his parents react by calling out every single adult involved. Maybe he got badly hurt, & they were called in & upon finding out they call out Joyce, Hop, Owens & Murray for the way no adult inthese kids lives had any clue about what their kids were going through. Nor were their parents given notice esp bc having underaged kids sign NDAs is not legal nor legally binfing (Maybe all the parents of the party kids are there and get all the info just like the Harrington's)

MY DARLING! LIGHT OF MY LIFE! HONESTLY this one hit different. You know how much I love making Steve suffer and when he has good parents, a lot of his suffering disappears. But it was nice to branch out a bit. Also finally some common sense! KIDS SHOULD NEVER BE SIGNING AN NDA THEMS THE FACTS! Steve's parents are here to fight for everyone so WELCOME TO THE CHAOS OF STEVE'S OVERPROTECTIVE LAWYER PARENTS! - Mickala ❤️

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

Steve Harrington had managed to avoid the hospital for years. Not because he shouldn’t have gone, but because he refused to go.

But this time, he was unconscious, which means he didn’t have a choice.

And now, staring at his parents’ shocked and appalled faces next to his bed, he realized he wished he’d just died, actually.

“This happens…often?” Anne Harrington asked Dr. Owens, who looked like he wished he was also dead.

“It does happen more often than we like. But it appears to be fixed now! Steven has been a wonderful asset to us, which is why we want to make sure he is comfortable and all his medical expenses are paid.”

He handled that well, Steve thought.

“And this is the first time anyone has bothered to call us?” Richard Harrington asked much too quietly.

That was his ‘I’m about to lose my shit’ voice and Steve didn’t have the energy to deal with it.

“I do apologize, we had to deal with enough NDAs as it is,” Dr. Owens replied, not realizing that he was speaking to two lawyers who were about to ruin his life.

Steve let his head rest against the pillow of the hospital bed, sighing.

“At what age did Steve sign his first NDA?”

“I believe he was 16.”

“And did he have a lawyer present?” Anne didn’t wait for a response before continuing. “I can tell you he didn’t. We’re his lawyers and we were not even called. Are you the one in charge of this shitshow?”

It wasn’t often Anne Harrington said a curse word. Steve only ever heard it a handful of times, usually after hanging up with a client who would lose their case.

“I am one of the people who is tasked with this, yes. But if you don’t mind, I need to check in with a few people before I can truly devote time to this conversation.”

“Oh, please. Continue on with your day. Don’t mind us sitting next to our son in the hospital.”

Dr. Owens sighed, knowing this fight was barely even starting, and left the room.

Steve’s parents turned to him.

“How many concussions have you had?”

“Why didn’t you call us?”

“Who else knows about this?”

“Will this happen again?”

The questions were too much, and Steve’s head was pounding. He couldn’t do this right now.

“Hopper.”

“Jim Hopper? I thought he died.”

Admittedly, his parents had been out of town for a while. They didn’t know Hopper was back as of a few months ago, and probably didn’t realize he’d taken over as chief again.

“He didn’t. He’s around here somewhere.”

“He knew about all this?”

“Mom, I love you, but my head is splitting down the middle. I need to stop talking.”

Anne slowly brushed her hand through his hair, planting a kiss on his forehead.

“Of course, honey. We’ll be back soon. Do not sign anything without us here, okay?”

“Okay.”

His dad briefly touched his shoulder before they both left the room.

Finally, some peace and quiet.

Until he was woken up by yelling.

Not just any yelling. Richard Harrington yelling.

If he wasn’t chained to the bed by an IV and blood transfusion bag, he would be up and in the hallway.

Apparently, he didn’t need to worry, though.

His mom came into the room, leaving the door open to the hallway so he could hear everything.

“I’m glad you’re awake, honey. We have a lot to talk about.”

“Who is he yelling at?”

“Every adult who didn’t bother to take care of you the way they should. Not just you, but all of these kids,” she said, tone more annoyed by the second.

“I don’t understand.”

“Honey, you’ve been protecting these kids in ways you never should have had to. All these adults who were involved never told any of us what was going on. They let you keep standing in the line of fire, getting hurt, seeing things you shouldn’t have to and never even bothered to call us. You signed NDAs with the government without parents or lawyers present. That alone is illegal, do you understand that?”

“So I’m in trouble?”

“Oh, honey, no. You’re not in trouble. Your dad’s having a few words with the chief and Dr. Owens.”

Steve tuned in to what was being said in the hall.

“I cannot fathom what you’ve done. Expecting these children to save this town, the world, and not even have their own parents know? Who are they supposed to turn to? You? And what have you done to help them? As far as I’m concerned, you should be arrested and imprisoned. If I have anything to say about it, you will!”

“Mom, can you please get him to stop? I know he’s upset, but Hop really protected us a lot, okay? And Dr. Owens was just doing his job.”

“A lot of people have just been doing their jobs instead of considering that maybe children shouldn’t be responsible for defeating actual monsters.”

Well. Yeah, she did have a point there.

“Where is everyone?”

Anne sat on the edge of his bed, holding his hand, running her thumb along the back of it.

“The Munson boy is in the room next door, he’ll be okay. Robin is home with her parents. Most of the kids are now with their parents, but that Sinclair boy is still being watched for concussion symptoms.”

Steve sighed with relief.

No one was lost. Everyone had pretty minor injuries. Maybe he was able to protect everyone.

“That Dustin boy is relentless,” Anne said with a smile. “He really looks up to you.”

“Yeah, he’s like a brother to me.”

“His mom didn’t know about any of this either, did she?”

Steve thought about it.

Honestly, she probably had some idea. Maybe not of the real details, but she had to know Dustin was involved in something he couldn’t talk about. Same with most of the parents.

But Steve’s parents were gone a lot. Their main office was in Boston, and they would often have to travel around the country for their clients. He was used to not seeing them, only getting to talk to them on the phone once or twice a week.

It’s easy to hide shit over the phone, and when they did manage to make it home, the Upside Down monsters were safely tucked away underground.

They had no way of knowing anything was wrong. He did it on purpose, just like all of the kids did.

Even without signing the NDAs, he’s pretty sure they wouldn’t have told their parents.

“I think we just thought we were protecting you guys.”

“Honey, it’s not your job to protect us. It’s our job to protect you.”

She looked so sad.

Steve didn’t want her to be sad.

“Mom, you couldn’t have done anything. And we’re all safe.”

His dad walked in the room, face red. He closed the door behind him and ran his hand over his face.

“Doctor said Steve can go when the nurse comes to disconnect him from everything soon,” he said, coming to sit in the chair by his bed.

“That’s good news. We’ll get you home and settled. We canceled our flight out so we can stick around for a while and make sure you’re okay,” Anne said with a smile.

“You guys don’t have to cancel your trip. Your clients need you.”

“Not as much as you need us, son,” Richard said, giving him a soft smile.

“I’ve handled it before, though.”

“And you shouldn’t have. Trust me, this town, the government, they’ve got a shit storm coming and I’m leading it,” his dad huffed.

A knock interrupted Steve’s response, the door opening slightly before they answered.

Eddie.

“Steve? You okay?”

Steve’s parents looked at the door, then back at Steve, who was doing his best to hide the fond smile on his face.

It wasn’t working though, not when he saw the way Eddie was trying to take inventory of his injuries from across the room.

“You can come in, Eds.”

“Who’s this, honey?” Anne asked.

“This is Eddie.”

“Oh! You poor thing. I heard all about what you’ve been through. Let me just say, if we had caught wind of it earlier and knew you were Steve’s friend, we would’ve been representing you in court,” Anne rushed to say, her hands fluttering over Eddie’s when he got next to the bed.

Eddie’s wide eyes would have been amusing if Steve didn’t worry that he might run for the hills at the care his parents showed.

“Uh. Thank you?”

“Do you need anything right now? Do your parents need anything?” Richard asked, sitting forward in his chair, business face on.

“Um, just me and my uncle, but no. I’m heading home, but wanted to check on Steve before I go.”

“Of course! You guys are close friends?”

It was an innocent question. His parents just liked to know who was in his life, that’s all. But Eddie looked at him with panic written all over his face.

Steve gave him a small smile, then turned to his parents.

“Actually, he’s my boyfriend.”

They were quiet for a moment, which Steve expected. No matter how well he thought they’d take it, he knew it would be a shock.

But his parents didn’t let him down.

“How long have you been together, Steve?”

“Since March. Four months?” He watched as Eddie started to back away, probably expecting the worst.

Anne smacked Steve’s arm, forgetting for a moment that he was in the hospital for a reason.

“Sorry,” she said before crossing her arms. “You’ve had a boyfriend for four months and didn’t tell us? We could have come back and arranged dinner to meet him. I’m so sorry our son is rude, Eddie. He wasn’t raised that way, I assure you.”

Eddie’s jaw dropped.

“Um. What’s happening right now?”

“We’ll be home for a while to make sure Steve is alright. We’d love to have you over for dinner soon. With your uncle if you’d like,” Richard added as Eddie just stared between them.

“What do you like? I just got a new cookbook that has so many European dishes I want to try. Are you a fan of Polish food? You know what, no, what about Greek? We haven’t had good Greek food in so long.”

Steve was laughing, he couldn’t help it.

“Steve, what the hell is going on here?”

“Eddie, that’s my mom, Anne, and my dad, Richard. They’re kind of the best, and apparently they want you and Wayne to come for dinner. Think you can find time in your schedule?”

“Uh.”

“Oh dear. Do you have a concussion? They should monitor you kids better,” Anne worried, moving her hands up to cup his cheeks and look in his eyes. “Should I get a nurse?”

“No, mom, he’s okay. He just expected you two to freak out.”

“About what?”

“The fact he’s a man.”

“Oh! I do suppose that’s a reasonable concern.”

“Eddie, let me ask you this: do you make Steve happy?” Richard asked.

“I think so.”

“And he makes you happy?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Then it sounds like we have no reason to be upset. Now, dinner? Maybe tomorrow night?”

“Okay.”

Steve laughed loudly.

“Eds, come here,” Steve gestured for him to come closer.

Eddie moved next to the bed, his arm bandaged, and a new cut with stitches in it on his forehead.

“Closer.”

Eddie leaned in.

Steve leaned up and kissed his lips. Just a quick peck, just enough to get the point across that this was really okay and really happening.

“Tomorrow at 6?” Steve asked before he pulled away completely.

Eddie nodded.

“And please bring your uncle, we need to discuss our plan for a lawsuit on behalf of all of you,” Richard spoke up from his chair.

“Oh. Yes, sir.” Eddie pulled away from the bed, nervously playing with his rings.

“Richard is fine, son.”

Eddie was blushing, which Steve was absolutely going to make fun of him for later.

“See you tomorrow, then?” Eddie asked awkwardly.

“Love you, Eds.”

“Oh. Uh. Yep. Love you too, Stevie.”

He raced out of the room, leaving Steve and Anne laughing quietly.

“Poor boy. Didn’t know what to do, did he?”

“No, I think he isn’t used to a positive reaction when people find out about him.”

“His uncle knows about you two, though, right?”

“Yeah, Wayne’s been great.”

“Good. Well, I’m going to find a nurse so we can go home. You should be comfortable in your own bed.”

“And I am going to make a quick call to my buddy in Chicago to see if he can pull some information on this Owens guy. We have a lot of work to do.”

Steve was used to this. For some kids, maybe this wasn’t good parenting. Maybe his parents being gone for a lot of his life had a negative impact.

But Steve never doubted how much they loved him. They still came home for every birthday, every Christmas. They still managed to take a family vacation every year. They gave him everything he needed and most of what he wanted. They supported him through everything, the proof right here in front of him now.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #the party #steve harrington has good parents for once!!! #and they're about to fuck shit up!!! #ficlet #request

[byeoltoyuki]

[21:35]

↳ Pairing: Jisung x reader

❧ Genre : roommates to lovers / fluff / smut

❧ Words : +2k

❧ Warnings: oral (f), riding, (jisung being a menace)

❧ Summary : You loved your roommate. You really did. But sometimes, the urge to strangle him was strong.

Prompt: “On a scale from 1 to 10, how bad do you want to kill me right now?” “I’m hovering somewhere in the high thirties.”

A/N: This one was hiding in my notes for a while, I'm glad I'm finally done!

Likes, reblogs and comments are always appreciated :)

➺➺➺➺➺

You stared. And stared, for what seemed like eternity to Jisung, at the broken mug. You would think it was just a mug, nothing exceptional, not a big deal. Except it was, to you. The mug happened to be a present from one of your closest friends, a mug she had made especially for you. A mug she had made from scratch and painted all your favorite ghibli’s characters on it. A pretty, meaningful present. A mug that Jisung, your stupidly adorable roommate, also happened to love and borrow without asking. It wouldn’t have been a big deal if not for the fact that he was a clumsy mess, you knew one day an accident would happen.

And it did. 

“On a scale from one to ten, how bad do you want to kill me right now?” Jisung asked, voice slightly shaking while laughing nervously. The two of you had been living together for the past two years and of course with time Jisung had discovered your marvelous temper. He knew it was about to get bad and the wish to run away was getting stronger with every passing, silent seconds. Except, he also couldn’t resist the urge to push at your buttons. 

You took a deep breath and closed your eyes, trying desperately to keep your temper in check. You tried to tell yourself it was just a mug and that your friend would probably make another one if you asked, but you weren’t being particularly rational tonight. 

Jisung took a few steps back, for safety reason, ready to sprint to his room. Just in case.

“I’m hovering somewhere in the high thirties.” 

“Oh come on!” Jisung whined, “I’m sorry!” 

With one look at Jisung and you knew he was genuine but it didn’t make you feel any better. In fact, your irritation only flared. 

“I warned you, didn’t I?” You took a dangerous step towards him, your hands on your hips - your whole demeanor screaming danger which made Jisung gulp nervously and nod his head. “I told you something like this would happen, didn’t I?” And then another step and another nod from Jisung. 

“Tell my mom I love her!” Jisung hurried to say before starting to run for his life. 

“Come back here you little shit!” You yelled after him and ran. 

Jisung, despite being half scared for his life, was actually laughing and squealing as you tried to catch him, cursing him in the process. He grabbed the closest cushion and threw it at you in an attempt at slowing you. You dodged it easily. 

“Come on, Y/N!” Jisung laughed, “You can do better than that.” 

Someone had definitely a death wish. “You’re dead.”

“Only if you catch me.” He answered proudly and stuck his tongue which only riled you up some more. For someone who was scared of your outburst not longer than a minute, he was acting all brave and daring but maybe because seeing you in this state also amused him. He couldn’t help him. 

You lunged for him and sadly missed. He dodged your arms with ease, moved behind you and playfully, someone was being bold tonight, slapped your ass. 

“Han Jisung!” 

“That’s me.” 

“Don’t move and I promise you a nice and painless death.” You proposed, just in case. 

Jisung in response chuckled and shook his head. “Catch me if you can then, darling.” And he winked.

The little shit. You tried to reach him, once more, confident and yet he dodged you again – you groaned, growing frustrated with your failures. Jisung was getting closer to his room and you knew, it was now or never. You gave it all and jumped right onto his back, making him fall on the floor, you with him.

“Fuck.” He groaned, “I think I’m going to die.”

“Such a drama queen.” You teased and leaned over to poke his adorable cheek. 

“Please, have mercy.” He begged dramatically, trying to wriggle from under you to free himself but you pressed yourself only harder on his back. 

As your hands were getting dangerously closer to his waist, he guessed right away what you were about to do: tickle him to death. There was no way he would let you do it. Not without a fight at least. 

Jisung flipped you over with too much ease. You knew the boy had been spending some time at the gym with his friends, but you didn’t expect him to get so strong in such a short amount of time. You blinked, confused as he had your wrists pinned above your head, looking proud and smug as hell. Suddenly, you weren’t so angry anymore; quite the opposite. His proximity, the heat radiating from his body made you realize just how dangerous the situation you got yourself in was. 

“Now, I guess, you should be the one begging for your life.” His smirk only grew as he leaned closer. Just a little more and his lips would be on yours and deep inside you couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like. 

It wasn’t a first for the two of you to play with fire, it happened too many times for the past few months. You didn’t know when things changed between you but it was slowly getting out of hand. 

“You know I never beg.” You huffed in response, pretending not to be affected by his closeness. 

If you thought your indifference would deter him, you were wrong. Jisung chuckled, unbothered. “Sure about that?”

Despite his words, Jisung let go of your wrists and pulled back to stare at you. You couldn’t help but wonder what was going through the pretty head of his. Was he just playing around? Or was he hesitating to do something else? Something that could potentially change your relationship. It made you pause; did you want it to change? As you looked at his pretty face, you found your answer.

“Ji?” Gently, you touched his face which made his body jolt in surprise. “If you don’t kiss me right now, we’re going to have a problem.”

It was a wild guess. Maybe you misunderstood his intentions but you couldn’t resist the temptation any longer. 

Jisung blinked slowly, once, twice, slowly proceeding your words and then, the next thing you knew he had his lips on yours. 

“Fucking finally.” He growled against your lips, going absolutely feral with the taste of your lips. He had been dying to have a taste, to finally have you in his arms. “Do you know how long I have been waiting for this to happen?”

“And whose fault is that?” You bit playfully his lower lip and smiled.

Jisung pulled back and feigned offense. “Excuse me but you never showed any interest in me!”

No matter how much you wanted to defend yourself, Jisung was perfectly right. You could have showed more but you were scared. Jisung was a playful and touchy spirit by nature, whether it was with you or with others. You had seen him being close to many women before which only made you unsecure – you didn’t want to ruin your friendship. Until recently.

“Should we talk about it or are you going to fuck me?” You asked instead. Not that you didn’t want to talk about your feelings, but right now you wanted to feel all of him.

“We should talk.” Jisung, to your biggest surprise, said looking perfectly serious.

You gasped, scandalized and incredibly frustrated. He pulled back from you and got back on his feet. He outstretched his hand to help you to stand. Annoyed, you slapped his hand, refusing his help, because yes, you were that petty. There was no way you could have a normal talk while being so horny.

You ignored him and started walking towards your room, needing a moment to calm down. Jisung, however, had other plans for you. You barely stepped inside your room, he had you pinned against your door, looking smug.

“Damn baby, I didn’t know you could be so snappy when horny.” He teased.

The urge to kick him was strong but you stopped yourself on time. Instead, you glared angrily at him. Sadly, Jisung wasn’t fazed. He pecked the tip of your nose and laughed.

“I was joking. Of course I’m going to fuck you.” If it wasn’t for his hand slowly sliding along your body, you wouldn’t have believed him, not when he was messing with you.

Jisung didn’t hesitate. He slid on the floor, on his knees, his eyes still on you – you held your breath, unable to avert your eyes. He looked so good, on his knees just for you. How did you get so lucky, you still wondered.

He gently slid your short along with your panties, helping you to step out of it. The sight of your exposed pussy took his breath away. He licked his lips, thinking about all the ways he could have fun with you.

“Are you just going to stare or?” You mocked him and playfully nudge him with your knee.

In return, Jisung bit your knee, making you squeal in surprise. “Let the man enjoy the view!” That being said, he stopped holding back. The first lick of his tongue was hesitant, slow, just to have a taste – enough to make you close your eyes and throw your head back.

“Shit,” Jisung growled and grabbed your thighs tightly as he pushed his face even closer. “Just so you know, I’m going to spend hours head buried between your thighs.” And you wouldn’t complain.

Jisung was feasting on you, moaning in satisfaction. Your pretty moans were only pushing him to lick more, to suck harder – it wasn’t enough. He was already addicted and it was only the beginning.

“Fuck Ji.” You moaned and grabbed his hair, pushing his face as close as you could, wanting so badly to feel more of his tongue.

With every stroke of his sinful tongue, you felt the heat inside you getting more and more intense; you were burning with both need for a release and need for him to wreck you. The moment Jisung pressed his fingers inside you, you were a goner. No thoughts, only pleasure and Jisung.

“I can’t wait to be inside you, babe.” Jisung watched you from between your legs, absolutely loving how lost in pleasure you looked. Loving, memorizing how you moaned his name, how you pushed your hips, how you arched your back. You were just so beautiful and his. “Come for me, love. Pretty please.”

His begging was all it took for you to come apart, a silent scream leaving your lips.

Jisung pulled out his fingers and got back on his feet. Without breaking the eye contact, he licked his fingers, moaning at your taste. The sight was so sinful, so sexy, you could come again. You grabbed him by his t-shirt and pulled him into a bruising and needy kiss.

You broke the kiss only to push him gently towards your bed. Without a word you got rid of your last piece of clothes and for a moment Jisung stopped moving, his eyes on you. You would have felt shy if not for the way he was looking at you, biting on his lips – Jisung loved the view.

“All yours.” You told him.

Jisung took off his clothes and completely disregarded them somewhere on the floor before getting on the bed. You smiled proudly at him and admired his perfect body. Jisung was beautiful, whether it was his mind, his heart or his body.

“I really like you.” You confessed

Jisung only smiled at you, fondly. “All yours.” He repeated your own words.

Without hesitation, you joined him on the bed, straddling him.

“Gladly.” Your hands splayed across his chest, you slowly eased yourself down onto him, letting him stretch you, feeling every inch of him deep inside you. You both sighed in relief. It took you a moment to adjust before finally starting to move, slowly, enjoying the slow drag of his cock against your walls, enjoying Jisung’s soft groan as you moved.

“Fuck.” His curse a whisper. Jisung placed his hands on your hips; his grip strong and firm as he helped you to move.

“You feel so good.” You moaned

If at first Jisung accepted your slow and gentle rhythm, his needs got the best of him. He flipped you over with ease making you gasp in surprise and plunged back inside you. He set his own rhythm; fast and frantic. His thrusts were strong, reaching all the right spots that made you toes curl in delight.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He cursed, “You’re just so perfect, so good to me.”

“Ji,” You mewled, “Don’t stop.”

As if he could. He kissed you and you held him tightly against you, fingers digging into his back with so much strength you were sure it would leave marks and this thought alone made you convulse uncontrollably around him.

Jisung kept pounding into you, seeking his own release. He was close and yet he tried to resist, wanting to savor more of the moment, wanting to feel your walls around him. He just couldn’t have enough.

“Come for me, Ji.” You begged

Jisung exploded inside you will a groan, body shaking.

He pulled out slowly and you whined, still sensitive from your orgasm. He rolled to the side and instantly wrapped his arms around you, pulling you flush against him. You stayed like this for a while, enjoying each other’s presence, your warmth.

“Do you think your friend can make us two mugs?” Jisung finally asked, smiling sheepishly at you.

You chuckled in response before planting a kiss on his chest. “If you beg her.” And smiled mischievously at him. “But first she’s going to beat the shit out of you.”

“Lovely.”

#stray kids #han #han jisung #stray kids smut #han smut #stray kids x reader #han x reader

[sunflowergirl522]

Fangirl

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: In which you’re Corroded coffins biggest fan and then Dustin introduces you to Eddie

Word Count: 2293

“Of course I can come watch Dustin Claudia. I can be over in like fifteen minutes.”

“Thank you so much sweetie! Ever since that earthquake I hate the idea of him being by himself. I’ll leave some money on the counter in case you guys need to get a pizza or anything.” You let out a relieved sigh once Dustin’s mom hangs up. You just have to call your friend Steph to cancel plans tonight before heading next door to the Henderson's. You didn’t really want to go to them anyway. She wanted to go out to a bar, which was fine. That's what you normally did with her but that was just to go see your favorite band. Under normal circumstances you hated going to bars, they were dark and dirty and you’d prefer to do something that didn’t involve older men hitting on you. But if Corroded Coffin was playing you could bet your ass you’d be there.

You’ve basically been their biggest fan since the first time you saw them perform. You had been at The Hideout with Steph getting a quick catch-up drink when they stepped onto the makeshift stage. You didn’t know there was going to be live music and admittedly that had gotten you to stay longer than you planned to, you were ready to leave as soon as your drink was gone but then you fell in love with the music. Since then you’ve gone with Steph to every show they’ve had making the plans yourself when you found out about a new one. You had even bought a shirt the one time they tried selling merch.

You hum to yourself as you make your way next door. Your mom has always been close friends with Dustins so you’ve known them your whole life. Dustin’s like a little brother to you since you’ve sort of always been around him and because of that his friends have become like siblings to you too. Even Max who only showed up two years ago but y'know saving the world together is a pretty big bonding experience.

“Dusty guess who’s here?” You sing while entering the Henderson residence.

“You know you don’t have to watch me right? I’m not a baby.” He comes into your line of sight and you pull him into a hug.

“What, you don’t wanna hang out with your coolest adult friend?”

“Please you wish you were as cool as Eddie.” He eyes your Corroded Coffin shirt as he says it expecting you to agree but you just scrunch your face up in confusion.

“Eddie? Who’s he? I only know Steve and Robin.”

“You don’t know Eddie?” He follows you into the kitchen confused. He really thought you would’ve known him from school or even just from his band or hell from when the whole town thought he killed Chrissy.

“No should I?” There’s a pause in the conversation as you open up the fridge to see what’s inside. “Wait, is he that guy your mom was telling me she’s weary of? Is he good to you Dusty, he doesn’t peer pressure you or anything right?”

“No God.” He groans. “You sound just like my mom. Eddie’s great, you wanna meet him? I could call him up and see if he’s able to stop by.”

“I’d be down for that. Gotta make sure he’s Steve’s replacement and not my own.”

“Oh my God you two are incorrigible, I'm not replacing Steve!”

“Sure you aren’t. Hey, what do you want to eat? I think I could manage making something tonight.”

“Don’t make anything! After I call Eddie we’ll order a pizza.” You weren’t any good in the kitchen, you were basically a walking disaster the moment you started trying to make anything. 

Eddie’s phone rings while he practices a new song on his guitar. He groans as he breaks away from it ready to yell at whoever was bothering him while he was finally getting somewhere.

“Hello?” He rips the phone from its spot on the wall.

“Eddie you gotta come over man.”

“Henderson? What do you want, I’m busy. This isn’t another life or death scenario is it?”

“No, you gotta come over and meet someone. I don’t know how you don’t already know each other.” Eddie lets out a sigh of relief at it not being anything serious before taking a deep breath in.

“Dustin I’m not coming over at the last minute when I’m in the middle of something just to meet someone. Arrange a meeting date or something.” He’s getting ready to hang up on him when his next words stop him.

“If she likes you my mom will probably let you back in the house. That means you can come over for dinners again.”

“I’ll be over in fifteen.” Eddie slams the phone down and throws his leather jacket on before flying out the door to his trailer at the thought of getting to eat Mrs. Hendersons meals again. He pulls up as the fire alarm starts blaring from inside the house. “Jesus christ.” He rushes out of his van and up the walkway just in time for the door to get thrown open.

“Fuck, shit, shit! Move!” You come flying out of the house tossing the pan with a small fire in it into the yard. You pay no attention to the man you just yelled at, too preoccupied with your own mistake besides it was probably just the pizza guy anyway.

“This is why I told you not to make anything!”

“Dustin just shut up and get me a shoe or something to put out the flame!” You catch the shoe he throws at you before falling to your knees and pounding at the grass. “See Dusty, it's fine now. We’ll just leave the pan out here to cool off and grab it before your mom gets home. She never needs to know this happened.” You stand up straightening out your clothes and wiping the sweat from your forehead before heading back to the door.

“What did I just walk into here?”

“That’s just what happens when Y/n tries to cook. Eddie meet Y/n, I’ve known her my whole life and she’s basically my sister. Y/n meet my cool new adult friend Eddie, who I’m not replacing Steve with.” You look up at the man in question and freeze, dropping the shoe in your hand. You immediately recognize him as Corroded Coffins lead guitarist and singer.

“I, um, hi I’m Eddie. No sorry you’re Eddie, I’m Y/n.” He chuckles at your mess up and takes you in while you feel your face heat up. Your hair is thrown up and you’re standing barefoot before him in a short pink skirt and one of his band's shirts?

“Is that a Corroded Coffin shirt?”

“Oh, uh, yeah I’m sort of a really big fan. I saw a show sometime in February and I’ve been to almost every show since. This thing is basically my prized possession since you guys never sold anything after the show I got this at.” You hold the bottom of said shirt holding it out to inspect it.

“Yeah, that’s because only two people bought something. We figured it wasn’t worth it to make more stuff. You know, I think I’ve seen you at a few shows actually.” 

“Really?” Your eyes go wide as your head whips up to look at him. 

“Yeah, you’re the one who always claps after songs.” Eddie’s playing it cool. Of course he’s noticed you in the audience full of mainly drunks. It was hard not to after the first time his attention was drawn to you when you whooped for them after a set. You were basically a constant after that and before every show he would scan the bar for you. He’d joke with the rest of the band that you were his good luck charm because he always played better when you were there once they caught onto what he did. 

“Yeah, that’s me. I hollered once but my friend who I always go with told me she’d stop taking me if I kept it up. You guys are like super amazing though! Your cover of Master of Puppets is, I think, my favorite version.” Eddie’s cheeks tinge pink at the praise. 

“You two gonna come inside or stand out here till the pizza comes?” Dustin asks coming back to the doorway to find the two of you just smiling at eachother. 

“Coming Dusty! I gotta clean the kitchen up anyway.”

“Yeah Dusty, we’re coming.” Eddie extends his arm for you to go first and slightly bows while smirking at Dustin with the knowledge of this new nickname.

“I’m regretting introducing the two of you already.” He groans out, backing out of the way. 

“You were right, he’s much cooler than Steve.” You murmur to Dustin as you pass him and Eddie overhears it. Butterflies swarm in his stomach at that. He’s cooler than Steve ‘the hair’ Harrington? No one other than his friends had ever thought he was even a little bit cool and now here you are an angel who not only loves his band but also thinks he’s cooler than Steve. It’s almost too good to be real. 

Once he overcomes the initial shock the goofiest grin grows on his face and he follows the two of you into the kitchen where Dustins putting stuff away and you’re wiping down counters.

“So how do you know Dustin?”

“Eddie’s the DM in my DnD club.” Dustin answers just as Eddie opens his mouth to speak.

“Oh, Hellfire right? I remember hearing about it when I was in high school.”

“I can’t believe the two of you didn’t meet then. I mean Eddie was supposed to graduate a year after you Y/n/n.”

“Oh? How come you didn’t?”

“Never went to class.” Eddie shrugs while crossing his arms over his chest. “Spent too much time getting high and planning stuff for campaigns.”

“Well I’m glad you were still there to watch over my whittle Dusty poo.” You use a baby voice as you pinch Dustin's cheeks.

“Y/n.” He draws your name out while shoving you away. “I’m not a kid anymore, you can’t do that.” Regardless of how annoying and embarrassing he finds it when you do that he can’t help but smile at the affection and Eddie catches it before Dustin can mask it. The doorbell rings then and Dustin quickly excuses himself stating it’s probably the pizza.

“Thank you.” You say to Eddie in a low voice once he’s out of the room.

“For what Sweetheart?” Your heart speeds up at the nickname.

“For taking Dustin and the others under your wing this year. They didn’t have the easiest time in middle school with bullies and whatnot, and I was really nervous for them to start high school. But then Dustin told me all about this cool senior who invited them to Hellfire club and how you all look after each other and I was really excited for them to branch out and make new friends.”

“Oh that was no big deal, they’re great kids.” You smile at him before turning to get the plates once the front door closes. But of course Claudia still keeps them on the top shelf so you have to stand slightly on your tiptoes to reach them.

“Let me help.” Eddie comes up behind you reaching up and easily grabbing three plates, his other hand resting on your hip.

“Thanks.” You look down hoping to hide the heat rushing up your neck.

“Am I interrupting something?”

“Eddie was just helping with the plates.” You jump away from the man who’s still so close to you, taking the plates from his hand and holding them up to show Dustin before rushing into the dining room.

“So are you graduating this year?” You ask Eddie later while the three of you eat.

“On track for it.”

“That’s cool, there’s what, just two months left?”

“About that long and then it’s goodbye Hawkins High and all the judgemental assholes in it!”

“What are you doing after?”

“I dunno, focus on the band probably.” He watches as your eyes light up at the mention of his band. You had honestly forgotten who exactly was sitting across from you.

“Speaking of your band, have you ever thought about doing shows not at bars or at least at ones that allow underage kids in? Because I know Dustin and the crew would probably go and I’m sure there would be other kids interested. Or you could put posters up in college areas because I only ever see them around Hawkins and everyone here already has their opinions about Corroded Coffin it feels like. I know people in my school would definitely be interested in seeing you guys perform.” Eddie's hands slam down onto the table causing you and Dustin to jump in your seats. He points at you and leans over the table.

“You might just be a genius! I have to tell the guys about this!” He gets up and rushes to the door leaving you and Dustin to look at each other in confusion before he’s leaning around the corner. “Hey uh by the way we have another gig tomorrow night if you wanna come. I could pick you up beforehand and take you home after.”

“I’d like that. I live just next door.” You nod and a shy smile crosses your face.

“Cool then it’s a date. Bye!” He waves and rushes out before you can notice how pink his cheeks are becoming and leaving you to smile into your hand while Dustin fake gags.

“You guys are gross.”

Eddie Taglist: @starbxcks​​​ @phluffybunny​​ @sadbitchfangirl​​ @notbeforelong​​ @kenzi-woycehoski​ @celestialsxturn​ @daisyellsong​ 

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson stranger things

[yikesharringrove]

This is based off something that happens nearly every day in my place of work.

-

“Steve!” Heather hissed from her corner desk. “H.D. is out there!”

Steve stood up from his stool quickly, nearly sending it toppling to the ground. He raced around the tables in the room, settling near Heather’s desk and looking out the window. Robin had followed his steps, looking out from behind him.

“What in hell are you two on about?” She asked.

“Hot Dad.” Steve pointed out the window, at the man he and Heather has christened Hot Dad last year.

The preschool parents always grouped up outside the secondary entrance near the end of the day, waiting from their little ones to come out from the lower level preschool classrooms. And there, every single day, was Hot Dad, picking up his littlest girl, waiting for the older two from the main elementary.

Robin sighed, slinking back to her desk. The Special Ed classroom had an excellent view of the parking lot, and meant Heather and Steve had ample opportunity to stare at Hot Dad.

Today, was an especially good day. He was wearing shorts.

As in, short short

The gray athletic material was riding up on his thick thighs, a pink sparkly backpack slung over one shoulder, his hand in his daughter’s.

His three girls were nearly the spitting image of him, long, curly blond hair. Giant blue eyes that always crinkled up with chubby-cheeked smiles.

Steve had only interacted with him a handful of times, when he had opened up the car door to let the kids out of the back during the morning drop-off rush. He always said hello to Hot Dad, wishing him a good day as Hot Dad called to his girls, telling them he loves them.

“Why is it kinda extra hot that he’s a girl dad?” Steve said to a Heather, staring intently at H.D.

“I don’t know, but I get what you mean. And I mean, three girls is a lot for one man.” She sighed. “Do you think he reads them bedtime stories?”

“Oh, definitely. And I bet he does voices for all the little characters.”

“And he probably plays whatever they want.”

“Yeah, and I bet he’s all about making sure they’re tough. I’ll bet he wrestles around with them and wants to teach them how to fix cars and shit.”

Steve and Heather sighed, embarrassingly, at the same moment.

“Jesus, you two,” Robin chimed in. “Can you two go somewhere else to be this gross about a father at our school?”

“Nope! Not when it’s Hot Dad. Listen, you know I don’t want kids of my own, but a for Hot Dad, I’ll be a step mom. For sure.” Heather grinned at Robins wrenching sound. “I mean, they won’t have to call me Mom, but the youngest is only four, so it may be natural to her!”

Steve cackled, gently pushing Heather.

Steve returned to his desk, trying to ge Hot Dad out of his mind. He really needed to focus, and finish these accommodation letters to send out to the teachers, and he needed to-

“Hargrove.”

“What?” Steve turned to Robin. She turned her laptop around, one of Hot Dad’s precious daughters on the screen.

“His name is Hargrove. Billy, I’m assuming.” She turned the screen back towards herself. “And, he’s the only person listed as a parent for all three girls. They’re emergency contacts are listed as Father, Aunt, and Grandmother. Nothing maternal to speak of.”

Steve’s eyes lit up.

“What do you think are the chances he’s in to men? Because like, I’m not a classroom teacher. I don’t even have any of his kids in the program, so it wouldn’t be weird.”

Robin rolled her eyes at him, returning to whatever she was typing on her computer before the HD distraction.

“Yeah, because that would be weird. Yelling about how hot he is in front of an open window, that’s normal. But teaching his kids? Too far.”

Steve stuck his tongue out at her.

And then her words settled in.

“The window’s open?”

#yeah there’s a big ol slab of beef that we call hd (hot dad) and he’s so hot and he had these little hoochie shorts on today #and we talked about him for nearly twenty minutes #he’s soooooo hot #anyway #steve harrington #billy hargrove #harringrove #yikes writes

[cho-aaacho]

When the Sun is Shining Again

Masterlist

Tags : Fluff, Romantic Fluff, Waltzing, Dancing Together, Living Together, Multiple Kisses, Rainy Day, Soft Gojo, Sweet Talker reader.

Summary: An old melody, a blurred silhouette. A weak way of life really isn't cool, you know?

"Darling, do you have any memories attached to you? Some feelings in your heart leave a sensation. I want to go back to that time."

"Memories?" He turns around, his azure eyes gracing you. His memory was floating somewhere, like a white feather in the clear morning sky. 

You smiled at him, caressing his jawline while sealing a tender kiss on his nose. Then you wrapped your arm around his neck and savored the last drop of his sweet perfume. You playfully ran your fingers through his hair. Feeling his beautiful silver on your fingers.

"I have one," you started, caressing the contour of his nose and whispering. "I was the only child. Every time I finished reading a book, my mom would give me a Pokemon card. It's an ultra-rare card, and I'm so happy about it! And you? What about you, Satoru-kun?"

You lifted your head from his shoulder and settled yourself on his lap, trying to find his best answer. When you lifted your head, you could sense a glimpse of disappointment, sadness, sorrow, and longing on his face.

"Oh, my dear, you don't have to tell me if you're uncomfortable, Satoru-kun. I'm sorry,"

You mused and touched his nose tip. "You deserve to be happy, even when the world around you treats you badly; remember that there's someone who truly cares about you."

"Thank you," he nodded. He noticed that you almost cried after seeing his expression.

He wasn't sure why he was reacting that way. It's extremely rare for him to express his sadness to his partner. He is so warm and always surrounded by vibrant yellow.

After all, no one can change fate, and shedding tears over the past is completely unnecessary.

You get up from his lap and leave a kiss on his cheek, gliding gently to the kitchen to bring two cups of hot chocolate. 

Satoru gazes at you for a while as he is distracted by the backdrop of rain-smeared windows. Your radiant smile enveloped him as you drew closer and handed him the hot chocolate with marshmallows on top.

"I sense a wave of nostalgia," he began, gently patting your head.

Then he continued, "The weather, hot chocolate, and your earlier questions—it's not that I didn't want to discuss them. I've come to accept that I can't erase my past or bring back someone from death. But as long as you're here with me, that's all I need."

"Ah, Satoru-kun, don't mention that. You make me cry, you know that?"

You respond with a gentle smile, and following his gaze to the window, the rain persists heavily. It's so cold; to be honest, you always hate rain in the evening. Even the delicious warmth of hot chocolate doesn't seem to help enough.

He draws nearer, his shoulder brushing against yours, touching each other like a magnet. The melody of raindrops is followed by his soft humming, creating a romantic attraction between you and him.

"Anyway," he added with a giggle, "do you still remember the first waltz we did in high school?"

"Eh? Why bring that up? Of course, I do. You're a good dancer," you tease, pinching his cheek. Because you know very well that Satoru is so bad at dancing.

"Your moves are a bit weird. I still remember that Kusakabe-kun is laughing at you."

He yelling. "Hey, don't mention Kusakabe! I'm a good dancer, you know. I've mastered a simple waltz from Ijichi."

"Ijichi-kun good at waltz? Wow, I didn't know that. So, as proof of Ijichi-kun's talent, maybe you can show me your skills? I know you'd love that, handsome."

He smiled gently. "Alright, I'll show you."

He glided with a cute gesture. You still sense awkwardness in his movement, but you are trying to hold your laughter because he appears so enthusiastic. 

He gently extends his hand, reaching yours, and guides you to follow his steps. Satoru squeezes your waist gently, feeling his warmth against your skin.

His azure eyes pierced toward yours as you swayed from side to side, following his gaze. You nestled your head on his neck, longing to be closer to him, to sniff his aroma, and to feel his breath against yours.

"See, I'm an expert," he whispered, placing a delicate kiss on your cheek and brushing his nose on your skin.

He is sealing a brief kiss. Repeating the gesture, he pulled your body close. Fold his arm around your waist. A soft moan escaped from his lips, adding a touch of passion to the moment.

The kiss was a blend of sweetness, passion, desire, longing, and intimacy.

"Uh—sorry if I got carried away."

"Satoru-kun, darling, is a fast learner, heh? I should have baked a cake for Ijichi-kun as a thank you."

#gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #jjk gojo x reader #gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen #jjk gojo

[misaldragon]

The mercs (and others) red flags.

Saw someone else do a post like this, hated it, decided to give it a try at it. Please keep in mind this is my personal list so if you don’t agree with something that’s a-okay. I welcome constructive criticism and questions.

Scout: Talks to people who aren’t there (See the comic where Zhanna tried to bed scout), major ego (to be fair he is god's favorite but still), will pick a fight with someone for you (If you have social anxiety like i do you’ll want to shrivel up and disappear), kills people (this is just going to be a given with all the mercs), and dates might be cheap due to him spending all his money on Tom Jones merch (Scout may set aside money for dates with you if you say you want to go somewhere else though but man cannot buy a house for the two of you).

Soldier: Man is as dumb as a bag of rocks (he drank led water cut him some slack… Also dumb enough to fall for just about any scam), like scout he will also fight someone for you but be much louder and bombastic about it (please i just was to not exist, no, don’t fight the dad in front of his kids), VERY proud american (as an american, this country sucks), and will yell at you, other people, anyone, that baby in the stroller? Getting yelled at! (Generally very loud person and doesn’t care who you are… Also kills people).

Pyro: Do you collect bones? You do now (Due to Pyro vision bones are probably candy or flowers or something to Pyro… They have good intentions but my god is it scary/creepy if you don’t know about Pyro vision), bones might be animal or human bones and also general body parts (Pyro vision again), will not shower around you.. Do they shower (they don’t want to be seen without their suit on but will let you clean the suit with them in it), and will probably steal your lighters (this is going off a hunch but also stealing is not something i like… Also kills people).

Heavy: Works very closely to Medic a lot of the time (and Medic is… A lot), VERY happy to do his job (and since his job is killing people this can be concerning), maybe a bit too attentive to his guns (can certainly be off putting to see a minigun in a small bed next to a larger one), and he was out of touch with his family (as shown in the comics when he's worried about his family only to find out they have been defending themselves just fine).

Engineer: Probably a workaholic so he may forget dates (note, he’ll also do his best to make it up to you if he does and start setting up reminders for himself he’s just not used to being in a relationship because of his job), makes southern sweet tea (as someone who lives in the south i know how sweet our tea is, if you don’t want cavities from looking at a drink don’t let him make sweet tea for you), probably shot at you before (mans paranoid because of spies, don’t sneak up on him), and would pressure you to ride a bull (mechanical or not but he’d prefer it to be mechanical and one he made to make sure it’s not to much, still won't take no for an answer when it comes to this only… Also kills people).

Demoman: Substance abuse (alcohol, congrats to the original you got one right), probably mommy/daddy issues (his mom seems to be an angry elderly woman, dad is dead so it seems there's something there but that could just be me), believes in monsters/ghosts (i don’t but given how the world of TF2 works this is more a IRL issue), has probably blown himself up at least once (possible that he might blow you up if he's REALLY drunk… Also kills people).

Medic: This man is a walking red flag, made a deal with the devil more than once, stole his pet doves, stole a wedding van, puts animal organs in people, manipulative (mostly seen with the tfc team when he had to manipulate them to put animal organs in them), stole a man's skeleton, medical malpractice, probably not mentally well, will take your organs, and kills people… Probably not all of it either.

Sniper: Can skin any animal or even person flawlessly and tell you how too (creepy, and i don’t want to know), very good stalker and hunter (he does this with you because he wants to surprise you with something you like but conversation is his weak point so this is the next best thing in his mind), Pyro isn’t the only one that’ll bring you animal bones (at least he’s a bit more tactful about it, making it into actual stuff like alligator teeth necklaces, deer antler coat hanger, and snake bone coasters for a few examples), probably doesn’t shower as much as he needs to (at least he brushes his teeth… Also kills people)

Spy: Will eventually leave you like he did all his other partners (which we can see with Scout's mother since he didn’t help raise Scout), is french (must i explain?), secret past (will keep as much of his past a secret as he can but also find out everything about you he can), and he never fully trusts you (he’s a spy, it’s understandable but sad.. Also kills people).

Miss pauling: Does not have time for you (unless you join her on missions but that is a large order), doesn’t fully trust you (this is from vibes), cannot fully devote herself to you or the relationship (her loyalty is to the administrator), can kill you without anyone noticing (its just scary to think about).

Saxton hale!: Can and will fight people for you even if the person just looked at you funny ( the police have been called several times), will fight a hippy just because they are a hippy (He really likes fighting), willingly and knowingly sells weapons to mercs (man can kill and condones it), will jump out of a plane with you… you have no choice.

#tf2 #team fortress 2 #tf2 scout #tf2 medic #tf2 demoman #tf2 spy #tf2 soilder #tf2 sniper #tf2 engineer #tf2 pyro #tf2 heavy #tf2 miss pauling #tf2 saxton hale

[oleander-nin]

If your request are open, could I request a few headcanons with the Rise Turtles?

The reader found a turtle mutant child alone in NYC and took them in because the parents abandoned them after they mutated. How would the Turtles react to their s/o or crush suddenly being the new mom to a turtle mutant?

A/N, not important: Thank you for the ask, and if you're ever curious about requesting, you can check my pinned post which has my requesting rules linked. This one was tough for me because I personally love kids, and used to volunteer at a daycare camp type deal, and it kinda shows through. This kinda ended up being more about the child than them w/ you. Sorry. Any criticism is welcome, constructive or not. This is supposed to be a gender neutral reader, so if I screwed up somewhere, please tell me.

-Ollie

Tw: My writing, kids, Mikey's part mentions future marriage, Donnie suggests adoption

Words: 400

Summary: ROTTMNT turtle's s/o becomes the new parent of a mutant turtle. Yay, responsibility...

Mikey:

Surprised, but willing to help.

Thinks it’s literally the sweetest thing you took in the small mutant.

Wants to make sure you’re okay with everything and don’t put too much pressure on yourself.

He’s really worried for the kid as well, and wants to make sure you’re both doing okay.

Supports you with the kid to the best of his ability.

Offers to bring you food more often so you can focus more on your job and taking care of the kid.

Tries his best to build a proper relationship with the kid.

Mikey loves you, and wants to possibly marry you in the future.

If this kid is now part of that future, he’s on board.

Donnie:

Is mostly indifferent to the new child in your life.

He thinks it was a noble act, but a vastly unnecessary one.

In Donnie’s mind, you don’t need a kid. You’re only a young adult and haven’t figured your life out yet.

Why adopt some random kid when there’s a yokai family out there waiting with possibly open arms?

Anyways, Donnie got yelled at for his hypocrisy because SHELLDON.

Shelldon is more excited than Donnie.

Donnie helps if you ask, but leaves you to it for the most part.

It’s your life, he doesn’t care too much what you do with it.

Plus, seeing you act sweet to the kid is nice.

Raph:

Gets happy when he meets the kid.

Thinks you’re an angel for taking care of the kid when you technically didn’t have to.

Brings it up to Splinter on accident.

Now you have a rat-man giving you childcare advice.

Helps with anything you ask.

He wants to spend time with you, and now you are constantly with the kid, so he spends time with the kid too.

Bonds with the kid pretty quickly.

Leo:

Is concerned, but helps where he can.

Like Donnie, he’s concerned because you’re still a young adult yourself, and he doesn't want you to get overwhelmed.

To help, he ends up becoming the kid’s dad more or less.

Gets really excited when the toddler laughs at one of his jokes.

Instant acceptance, will steal the child from you if possible.

Almost co-parents?

He likes the kid, and he likes you, so he has no problem helping out whenever he can.

Bribes Mikey to babysit so he can still go out with you alone though.

#rise of the tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt #rottmnt #rise leo #rottmnt leo #rottmnt donnie #tmnt x reader #tmnt donatello #tmnt raphael #tmnt michelangelo #rottmnt headcanons #tmnt headcanons #mikey hamato #mikey #mikey fanfic #michelangelo #mikey x reader #mikey imagines #tmnt mikey #tmnt donnie #tmnt fanfic #donnie #donnie x reader #leo x reader #tmnt leo x reader #tmnt donnie x reader #tmnt raph x reader #tmnt mikey x reader

[anangelwhodidntfall]

lo'ak and best friend reader who have been in love with each other for years, but reader gets taken on out on a date where she gets stood up and comes to lo'ak tears, and he comfort her and then maybe she hears him talking about how he feels and whatnot...and they confess? 

You deserve better: Lo'ak Sully

You and Lo'ak had been attached at the hip for as long as you could remember, it was always two against the world. But as you two got older, certain feelings started to develop between the two of you, but you never told each other how you felt, opting to suffer in silence due to fear of scaring off the other. 

You had been walking with him and Neteyam when Evìsno the local heartthrob of the clan came up to you guys, sure he was a fairly attractive guy but he didn't compare to Lo'ak beauty.

"Evìsno what brings you by?" Neteyam asked him. 

"I was hoping I could talk to you y/n, privately if you don't mind." He said as you all looked at him confused. 

"Uh-sure, I'll be right back guys." You said following Evìsno to somewhere more privately. 

Neteyam waited until you were outsight and out of hearing distance before he hit his brother not believing he let the girl he's been in love with go off with Evìsno of all people. 

"Ow, what was that for?" Lo'ak asked rubbing his arm.

"What was that? You letting her go off with him?? Why didn't you stop him?" Neteyam asked confused. 

"It's alright. He asked me yesterday if it would be okay if he asked her out. It's not that big of a deal, and plus it's not like she likes me the way I do."  Lo'ak said as Neteyam sighed. 

"You've got to be the biggest skxwang I've ever met." Neteyam said with a sigh as you and Evìsno returned. 

"I'll see you tonight y/n." Evìsno said with a smile as he left you three standing there. 

After spending some more time with them, you went home and started to get ready for your date with Kiri even helping do your hair. By the time you finished getting ready, you realized it was almost time for you to meet Evìsno. So you made your way towards the spot where you had agreed to meet at, so you waited and wait. You waited for almost two hours before it hit you that he wasn't coming so with tears in your eyes, you made your way back to the home tree. 

"Y/n, what is it? What happened my child?" Neytiri asked seeing your state.

"Evìsno...stood me up." You said breaking down in more tears as she wrapped her arms around you and lead you inside the tent catching the attention of her family. 

"Kiri, can you come help me?" She asked taking you to a separate part of the tent. 

"Y/n! Y/n!" Lo'ak asked running into the tent worried about you after one of his friends said they saw you in tears. 

He walked over to where you were and his heart broke, seeing you in tears because of Evìsno. He should've never given Evìsno permission to ask you out. He held your hand while his mom and kiri cleaned you up, before letting you know you could stay the night if you would like. 

"Are you okay flower?" He asked you as you two walked over to the other tent where they usually slept. 

"I will be. Just disappointed is all, I actually thought that someone might like me, but I was wrong." You said. 

"Oh but someone does." Lo'ak thought looking at you. 

You guys sat down well you laid down feeling exhausted from the day you had, while Lo'ak talked to you, telling you one of his dad's earth's stories until you both fell asleep. Jake and Neytiri had come to check on everyone more specifically you, when they saw you and Lo'ak sound asleep cuddled up together which made them smile. 

"You think they will ever tell each other how they feel?" Jake asked Neytiri. 

The next morning you woke up alone as you tried to figure out where everyone was until you heard yelling coming from the other side of the tent. It was Lo'ak and his father which made you more alert until you heard something that you never thought you hear.

"No Dad! You don't get it! Y/n is so amazing and any guy would be lucky to be with her and how every day I wish it was me! Do you know how hard it is to be near her every day and not tell her I'm in love with her?! He said. 

"You're in love with me?" You asked him shocked. 

"I'll leave you guys to it." Jake said stepping out of the tent as you walked in. 

"Fuck y/n, you weren't supposed to hear that, I didn't want to ruin our friendship but yes I have been in love with you for a few years now. Look I get if you don't feel the same way about me, so we can just..." He said as you pressed a kiss against his lips.

"I see you Lo'ak." You said with a smile. 

"Are you serious?" He asked shocked as you smiled at hiim. 

"I've been in love with you for a few years as well." You said making him smile as he pressed another kiss to your lips. 

"I see you y/n." He said leaning his forehead against yours. 

"I have a feeling it will be soon." She said looking at you two with a smile. 

#lo'ak sully #lo'ak fanfiction #lo'ak x reader #lo'ak fluff #lo'ak x you #loak x reader

[despazito]

like i have such conflicting feelings about the pathologizing of mental illness nowadays and the culture it creates. i think the need to have ones dx, at least in my case, was driven by a fundamental urge for validation that what i’m feeling isn't just a phase or something that will sort itself out. i think women especially have had our pain and struggles so minimized, i had lows wishing i just had a broken leg so others could at least see my pain. i clung to my dx and feet like waving it to the world shouting its not just in my head!! i’m not just lazy!!

in some ways getting the dx is like getting a pedigree for your fucked up brain. like this isnt some backyard bred tiktok adhd, this is PUREBRED adhd with the papers to prove it!!! all these women like myself who were looking for a voice and affirmation through dx to prove they “aren’t just one of those girls who’s too sensitive and googled their symptoms”, but now that’s also created its own trope of “overdiagnosed girl in her 20s” and there’s a whole new stereotype to mock and invalidate. there’s just no winning, it really feels like our pain will never get taken seriously by society to matter which route we take to get heard we are dismissed.

but of course these slips of paper become vital if you need any assistance or accommodations, so they are incredibly beneficial to have.

my issue is the more i reflect, the more i do feel like many emotional disturbances or brain funkiness ESPECIALLY depression and anxiety are the result of, or at least become more aggravated, by unluckiness in your childhood relationships and the narrative we created about it. turns out you don’t need to be textbook abused to have adverse experiences, and a failure to have a healthy secure relationship to your primary caregiver fucks with you for life but nobody wants to talk about that. i do think we live in a society here in canada where parental rights to parent how their want is overstepping on the child’s right to have the healthiest possible environment to be raised in. i had spent years reading about the lifelong effects of parental deprivation or bad socialization in dogs and parrots before reading about it in humans, and i think we forget how much humans are also animals.

but the thing is you can work on relationships, you can begin to process trauma. when i tell myself “i’m a person with anxiety” it feels really loaded with a sense of finality that i will always live this way.. the more i use that language the more futile it feels about ever improving, when so often depression and anxiety are the result of deeper unresolved issues. I see so many people with phobias or fears resign to living painful lives than trying to work on any exposure or processing their fears. i’d still be miserable if i never worked through my intense fears of intimacy, i was perfectly resigned to a life of being alone and thought i was content with that.

turns out growing up with trauma can cause the same unfocused and disorganized presentation as clinical adhd.i’ll admit i didn’t like learning that one, as adhd already has so many deniers my kneejerk response was anger at my adhd being invalidated. but i think a lot of adhd people fall somewhere in between that venn diagram, and rejecting a traumagenic theory for some people’s symptoms means they will be prescribed the wrong treatment plan. and this is why all treatment plans put emphasis on talk therapy just as much as pharmacological intervention.

obviously some things aren’t the result of your childhood! your mom yelling at you doesn’t cause autism, but chances are if you’re autistic and had cruddy support you’ll face more adversities and mental health struggles than a good supportive environment. similarly, you could’ve grown up with all the love and support to thrive but one day your thyroid decides it’s time to make you feel like roadkill.

idk, what i’m trying to say is don’t corner yourself or resign from living life because of your mental health dx or think that you’ll never get better because you “have” this, chances are there’s always room to feel better. the most hurtful thing is our inner voice if it’s internalized negative language, and there’s exercises you can practice to drill more positive or at least neutral nonjudgemental language into your inner critic. because even if you have something that will never be cured, the way we talk to ourselves about it is a variable we have some power over.

the narrative part experiencing trauma is uniquely human. some people will experience horrible things and internalize the negativity or self blame, but resilient people have better prognosis because they have ability to frame things in a narrative that don’t assign self blame, and critiques the behaviour instead of the self. because so many complications and struggles arise out of kicking ourselves when we’re down. but the thing is this usually can’t happen on its own, we need to see this modeled by the people around us. but thankfully if we missed the boat, we CAN retrain that voice

anyway that’s my musings from my perspective. for anyone curious here’s a lecture that really resonated with me, its got some hard hitting truths i didn’t want to hear but sometimes you gotta hear things that make you uncomfortable

#mental health #maybe you feel like none of this applies to you and thats ok! #im speaking for my own experiences

[gaslysainz]

Lost (PG10) pt4

Summary: The world is utterly unfair. He was her most prized possession, her life, her first ever commitment of love. But to him, she was just a mere person lost in his big world.

warnings: ; unrequited feelings; Pierre is a douche , arrange marriage, angst, explicit scenes and languages.

Author's Note~ Heya guys! I present to you the 4th part of my fanfic. I'm overwhelmed by the response ❤️ Really Thanks a lot to everyone who had liked the story so far. Something's have started to cook. Hope you look forward to it. Love You All 😘 Here's my first ever story for you guys. As soon as I finish this one, I'll start taking requests maybe! Till then please show your love and support for "LOST".

This one's a filler chapter, so please bear with me.

Something completely different happened today. A knock at my door woke me up from my 1 hour nap which has unfortunately turned into a 3 hour nap. I stood up from the bed and opened the door only to find my husband standing there and running a hand through his curls. Oh! What a sight! He looks like a Greek God.

"Hey! Did you need something? I'm sorry I fell asleep, also you can come inside"

He thanked me and entered my room, this is completely new. But nonetheless, I had to take a chance. He was looking around the room and the pictures hanging on the walls. His eyes stuck to one picture in particular. A picture captured by Pierre's mom of Isaac, Pierre and myself. It was Halloween and Isaac wanted to be a Vampire and on the other hand Pierre and Me were Romeo and Juliet. He was 6 and I was 4! We did not even know who Romeo and Juliet were! It was because of the elders who had insisted on these costumes! Oh! What I'd give to have those days back.

"You need something?"

"Ah! No, um actually yes, I have to attend an event with the rest of grid tomorrow. And you have to come with me. So be ready by 7pm tomorrow, will you? Wear something nice. I'll send someone with dresses for you to choose today in the evening. Just pick something from there."

There it is! Like I've mentioned before, he only remembers me when he needs something or needs to go somewhere to show off the world our so called amazing married life. *Scoff* But I'm not mad, at least I'll be able to meet HIM after so many days. The only person who happens to care even a little bit for me. Who always greets me with a beautiful smile on his face. A friend? Nope, he's like an angel for me.

I really hope everyone gets a friend like him!

" *Cough* *cough* You there?"

" Oh yea! I'm sorry, I was a bit distracted. Umm, Why don't you take Julia with you? I'm sure she would love to accompany you and also I'm sure she has several dresses in her wardrobe already. Won't even have to buy a dress last minute"

The look Pierre gave me after I mentioned Julia simply yelled 'ARE YOU CRAZY'. I mean I knew why he wouldn't take Julia, but I just find a different kind of satisfaction by reminding it to him.

"Um, I'll be ready tomorrow. Don't worry. By the way, where's Julia?"

"I sent her home, no need for her to stay here for these two days, either way we'd be busy. It'll only distract us."

Oh well! That was odd! Distract us from what exactly? Sometimes this man leaves no tables unturned to confuse me to no end. Anyways. I know better now than to crack my brain over these things. It's actually useless cause I won't get anymore clear answers from him than this.

"Any specific colour that I need to keep in mind while choosing the dress?"

"Not that I'm aware of, just keep it a bit formal. I'll get going. If Julia calls or comes asking for me, just tell her I've been out for a meeting since morning."

And then he rushed out the door, not before checking our childhood photo once again. Okay! That was highly confusing! I mean why was he avoiding Julia? Or am I reading too much between the lines? No one knows. I better go eat something until then.

But still, I'm a bit lost here.

LOST in confusion.

PS - Please lemme know what do you think about LOST and also let me know if you wanna be added to the tag list ❤️

@peachiicherries @crimeshowjunkie @oblomovissad @torossosebs @janeholt3

#pierre gasly x reader #pierre gasly #f1 x reader #carlos sainz #charles leclerc #f1 #formula1 #alex albon #daniel ricciardo #angst #arranged marriage #unrequited love #yuki tsunoda #lewis hamilton #lando norris #max verstappen #sergio perez #george russell #mick schumacher #oscar piastri #lance stroll #esteban ocon #fernando alonso #nico hulkenberg #kevin magnussen #logan sargeant #zhou guanyu #valtteri bottas #marriage