#yes this all of them. and also none of them listen to me I promise this is worthwhile

[lxkeee]

MY LOVE, IS MINE ALL MINE

PART TWO

pairing: Lucifer x fem! reader

fandom: hazbin hotel

genre: fanfiction

notes: lmaoo sorry it took awhileee I'm actually a very busy college student while simultaneously having so much brainrot for this man so... Be patient omfg, I just posted part one a two days ago 😭 also, don't mind the warnings too much as it doesn't specifically for this specific chapter but it can be future parts of the story. So yes, hand holding before marriage will happen between Lucifer and [y/n]

warnings: none except hand holding before marriage lmao.

PART ONE | PART THREE

The princess of hell along with her girlfriend was just settling in the guest room heaven provided for them temporarily as they had an important meeting with them.

Charlie and Vaggie stopped talking as their was a knock on their door, “Who do you think is it?” Charlie asked and Vaggie shrugged and Charlie decided to open the door.

There stood a rather tall female angel with three pairs of wings and a golden halo on her head, the short white dress accompanied by gold compliments the woman's figure beautifully.

Safe to say both Charlie and Vaggie were mesmerized, the woman before them was drop dead gorgeous. Though, Vaggie was still cautious, despite a former angel, she doesn't know who this woman is as some seraphim angels tend to not show themselves to the lower ranking aside from Sera.

“Are you Princess Charlotte? The daughter of Lucifer?” the woman asked with her [e/c] eyes sparkling in excitement, the woman quickly placed her hands over her mouth in embarrassment, “Oh! Sorry for the intrusion, I forgot to introduce myself,” she says with a small smile before giving the two girls a curt bow, “My name is [y/n], a seraphim. It's a pleasure to meet you two.”

Charlie gave her a big grin, giving the woman a curt bow. The princess of hell decided to trust her as she couldn't sense any bad intentions from the older woman and to her, the name [y/n] sounded awfully familiar, she just forgot where she had heard it before. “It is so nice to meet you, I am Charlotte but you can call me Charlie.” Charlie said and [y/n] just grinned as Vaggie decided to just watch the two, still cautious. The older woman's eyes landed on Vaggie and she gave her a grin, “And who might you be?” she asked her and Vaggie just glared at her before avoiding her gaze, “Vaggie.”

[Y/n] just grins, her eyes analyzing the gray haired woman before letting out a small hum before shifting her gaze to the princess. [Y/n]'s heart ached a little to see how much the girl looked exactly like her father. [Y/n] misses him, she wished she did something that could have prevented his fall. Regrets always comes last. She took a deep breath then once more wore a bright smile on her face. Charlie noticed the shift of her mood but decided not to question it.

“So Charlie, I came here as I was curious what your plan for hell is about.” [y/n] says softly, she wasn't there during the meeting Lucifer requested for hell and this time, she promised to be there for his daughter instead. Charlie's eyes sparkled excitedly, excited that an angel aside from that bitch ass Adam would finally listen to her. “Really?!” The princess asked excitedly and [y/n] can only let out a soft chuckle, “Of course, why don't we take a walk while you tell me about it? Your friend can join us too.”

Charlie calmed down and gave the older woman a smile, “Vaggie here is actually my girlfriend.” she says, expecting the older woman to judge her but she was surprised when [Y/n] just ruffled her hair. “My apologies, I didn't know.”

The younger girls were surprised, that an angel didn't show any disgust to their relationship and she even looked like she approved.

“Now then, how about that walk?”

“And that's what I'm planning, I wished for my people to find redemption and join heaven.” Charlie explained softly, taking a bite of her strawberry cheesecake. Both [y/n] and Charlie sat in a rather peaceful cafe in heaven, angelic sigils circling around them as [y/n] casted them for their privacy. [Y/n] can only smile as she listens to the younger girl who rambles about her plans for her people, [y/n] can't help but remember how similar Charlie is to her father, oh heavens... She missed him so much.

Vaggie didn't join them unfortunately, she said that she wanted to rest a little bit in the guest room.

[y/n] gracefully placed down the cup of coffee she was sipping and gently wiping her lips with a napkin, “That is truly admirable Charlie, to see you have so much hope for your people really reminds me of your father. I really hope it will come to life.” the compliment was almost enough for Charlie to burst into tears, to hear someone praise her plans and believe in it, it felt like a mother praising her.

Though, she was able to stop her tears as she realizes something. Reminds me of your father. [Y/n] and her dad knew each other.

Then Charlie remembers, the stories her dad told her about heaven and the stories he told her about his closest angel friend—the only one who believed in him. She remembers thinking that she felt her dad loved that angel in one way or another, with how fondly he spoke of her—with so much adoration.

“I remember now, you were my father's best friend!” Charlie gasped, a hand over her mouth and [y/n] can only chuckle, a hint of sadness in her eyes. “Were? I still think of him as my best friend.” She chuckles softly, “Though, I don't blame him if he doesn't think the same way as I wasn't able to help him back then.” she continues sadly and Charlie had to wave her arms around to stop her, “Nonono, my father doesn't think like that. You're still his best friend.” Charlie reassured the older woman.

“Really now? How is he these days? I haven't heard from him after so many eons.” [y/n] asked softly with a slight chuckle and Charlie can only sigh with a small smile on her face, “Well... He's still how he usually is. Kind, trying his best for me, and lately he had an obsession with making rubber ducks.” she says with a small giggle making the older woman chuckle, “Thay sounds like him, though surprised that he still loved ducks. He used to ramble to me about random duck facts when he was still here. He was such a dork, I truly missed him.” [y/n] says with a chuckle, a longing look in her eyes.

Charlie was able to put two and two together, her father and this woman loved each other and she can only assume they didn't confess in the fear of ruining their friendship. Charlie loves her parents but a part of her is hoping in a different universe, her father and [y/n] are happy together.

Charlie decided not to mention it to the woman and just continued hanging out with the older woman. “I am sure he misses you too.”

“The meeting will start in a few hours and Charlie?” [y/n] says softly before summoning a wax sealed white envelope out of thin air, gold sparkling from where the envelope is as it slowly falls into her hands. Charlie looked at her in curiosity, “Can I ask you a favor?” [y/n] asked her hesitantly and Charlie just nodded, “Of course!”

“Can I ask you a favor of delivering this letter to Lucifer?” She asked and gently extended her hand towards the younger girl in which the girl accepted the letter and placed it in her chest pocket. “Of course! My father would be delighted to hear from you.”

“Thank you, Charlie. I appreciate it dearly.” [y/n] smiled softly as she stood up from her seat, extending her hand to help the hell princess up from her seat. “Now, let me walk you back to your room so you can get ready for your meeting.”

Now the princess of hell wishes the other angels were just as understanding as [y/n]. Even though the meeting didn't go as planned, she felt reassured as both Emily and [y/n] were there in the court room.

“What are we even talkin' about? Some crack-whore who fucked up already? He blew his shot, like the cocks in his mouth. This discussion is senseless and petty.” Lute sneers with an annoyed glare, putting on her mask. Though, Charlie can feel her patience thinning, her eyes glaring at the angels.

The other angels looking down on the scene happening below, [y/n] looking worried for her while glaring at Adam and Lute. “There's no question to be posed, he's unholy, case closed. Did you forget that 'Hell is forever'?” Adam and Lute sang mockingly and [y/n] could feel her anger starting to boil. She always hated Adam, that egoistical prick, she looked up at Sera as if asking her to stop this nonsense.

“A man only lives once, we'll see you in one month. Gotta say, I can't wait to—” Adam sang and [y/n] noticed Sera getting worried, “Adam.” Sera says sternly but it seems the man was too busy to hear her, “Come down and exterminate you!”

At that moment, loud ringing was only what [y/n] heard as she was shocked to hear him say that. Exterminate...? Don't tell me...? [Y/n] asked herself before glaring at Sera, the other angels were also shocked by the reveal.

“Wait!” Emily exclaimed, shocked by the reveal and Adam just noticed his slip up, “Shit.”

“What are you saying? Let me get this straight, you go down there and kill those poor souls?” Emily asked, horrified as she slowly flies down towards Charlie, holding her hand, “You didn't know?” Charlie asked and Emily shook her head. “Whoops!” Adam says, not a care in the world, “Guess the cat's out of the bag.” Lute says with a smirk, “What's the big deal?” Adam asked with a condescending smirk and [y/n] wished she could go down there and punch him.

“Sera, tell me that you didn't know...” both Emily and [y/n] asked simultaneously, though, Sera was just looking at Emily. [Y/n] was pissed at this whole revelation, human souls are killed in heaven by the hands that are supposed to be pure holiness. To think about blood staining those hands, fills her with disgust.

The whole courtroom was a mess, [y/n] doesn't remember what exactly happened. The reveal that Vaggie was an angel didn't surprise her, she can sense the girl's angelic blood but the reveal that Sera was the one who ordered for the extermination to happen, filled her with rage.

“Charlie! Don't lose hope! We will find a way to help you!” Emily says as we watched Vaggie and Charlie be sucked by a portal back to hell, “Don't give up! We'll find a way!” [y/n] added, making sure the two girls heard. Sera glared at her and [y/n] glared back.

That's what Charlie last saw, Emily looking worried and disappointed but what worried her was Sera and [y/n] started arguing, angelic powers starting to spark between them and that was the last thing she saw as she returned back in hell. Thankfully, the letter was safe in her pocket.

#lxkeee hazbin hotel masterlist #lucifer morningstar x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer magne #lucifer #“MLIMOM” — LUCIFER X READER

[xxblairexxss]

Belief

Pairing : dad!Charles Leclerc x mom!reader

Theme : Angst, fluff

Still felt like something’s missing with this one 😩

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“Y/N, listen–“

“No, Charles, I’m done.” You brushed past him with your duffel bag that you had prepared days before because you knew he would still keep on denying everything.

“What do you mean you’re done? Y/N, please listen to me.”

“Let’s go, baby.” Taking your baby girl’s hand, you pulled her up to her feet as she threw her toys on the floor.

“Where are you going? Y/N, you can’t do this to me.

“I’m going home. I’m not coming back until you set your priority straight.” You took little steps while your daughter trailed after you, constantly checking back, wondering why her daddy is not coming along.

“I told you she’s a new physiotherapist ! Please, don’t do this.”

“Physiotherapist won’t be in your room all cuddled up like that! You think I’m a fool?” You wiped your tears with the back of your hand, eyes still looking at your husband in disbelief as you felt every trust you had for him far gone.

“I don’t know what the news said but those didn’t happen, baby–“

“Don’t call me that.”

He breathed in, hand on his forehead as he squeezed his eyes shut and took a step back. “Y/N, none of the things happened. Yes, she was in my room but nothing happened. You need to trust me!”

“Dada not come?” Your daughter asked as she stood up after you put on her shoes. Her little hand goes back into yours.

“Dada’s not coming, sweetheart. Dada has work.” You tugged on her little hands and turned around to leave but she refused to follow, pulling you back the the little force she had.

“But I want dada.” She yanked her hand from your grip and ran back to hug Charles’s legs. “Dada follow?”

Charles then crouched down and gave his little girl a kiss on her forehead. “Dada can’t come, princess. Take care of mommy for dada, alright?” His arm went around her little frame when the circled her arms around his neck, hugging him.

“See you later, dada!”

“Y/N.” The soft tone of his voice nearly knocked down the wall that you were trying to build in your heart. When you turned around, you saw he took few steps closer to plant a kiss on your forehead, mumbling the words “I love you” as he pulled away. Both you and Charles had made a promise on the early stage of your dating life that both of you would never go a day without an I love you because tomorrow wasn’t confirmed, regardless of how bad the arguments would be. “And I’m sorry…”

You didn’t look at him when you pulled away to make your way to your car. You didn’t want to ignore the words, but you also didn’t want to say it back so you just mumbled the words back under your breath. Your little girl had her half body turned sideways jusy so she could kept on waving to her dad, unconcerned with the problems going on.

If it wasn’t for the constant tagging, you would have been left in the dark. Checking your social media had always been apart of your wind down activity but you weren’t expecting to have over 100+ notifications one night, people tagging you on a screenshot of news article about your husband exposed to be having a short “intimate break” with a new woman. The articles were supported heavily with a blurry picture of your husband and the woman walking out of the driver’s room after which was what they assumed as a quickie before the race in Hungary. People started making fun of your marriage, saying that you tricked Charles into one by getting pregnant on purpose or you got pregnant as soon after the wedding because you wanted to secure the bag and some of them even assume Charles was forced to stay in the marriage not because of love but because of the child and his image.

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Though you had been living separately for nearly a month, Charles would always came by. Sometimes it would a short 5 minutes where he just dropped by to give his little daughter a new toy or just a short cuddling session. You felt guilty of course, because your daughter had always been daddy’s girl but you couldn’t be in the same house with him without thinking about the pictures so you had to continuously tell her that Charles was busy with his fast car.

“Don’t go!” Your daughter cried out and tugged on her dad’s hand, dragging him back into the living room. “Dada can’t go!”

“I need to go, princess.” He drew his lips back, squatting down to level his face with hers. “We spent half a day together, didn’t we?” His arm was stretched out again as she kept on trying to pull him back.

“Can dada stay?”

He looked up and caught your eyes on him with your arms folded. “I’m not sure mommy wants that. Why don’t you go and ask mommy?”

“Can dada stay tonight, mommy? Please please!” She ran to hug your legs and pulled on your shirt to get your attention.

“Sleep on the couch. I’ll get a blanket for you.” You left those two together shrieking with laughters and came back with blanket to find both of them cuddling on the couch. “Are you gonna sleep with dada on the couch tonight?”

“Yes! Mommy too?” She scooted aside and pat on the empty space. “Mommy too!”

“Mommy will sleep in the room, okay?” You bended down to peck on her forehead and looked at Charles who has been staring at you. “Make sure she sleeps by 9.”

“Thank you.” He took your hand and you snatched it back before matching to your room.

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“Baby, what are you doing with my phone?”

You had just done putting on your skincare and walked out of the bathroom to see your little girl looking sullen as she was holding your phone. “No answer?” She raised the phone up as it shook a little from the unbalanced weight between the phone and her little grip.

“Answer? Who are you calling?”

“Y/N, is there–“

“Hi dada!”

“oh, hi, princess!”

You froze when you heard Charles’s voice. When did she even learn how to call someone or more specifically, her own dad.

“Dada! Hello!”

“Hi, I miss you so much.”

Your daughter squealed and clapped her hands, bringing the phone that was larger than her hand closer to her mouth. “Miss you too!”

“Where’s mommy? Is mommy okay?”

Your lips were pressed into a thin line. Sure, you can still acted all fine in front of your daughter but that doesn’t mean you could play pretend with your feelings. I miss you, Charles.

“Mommy is okay. Mommy was putting cream on face.”

“Oh, yeah? Mommy always takes a long time in front of the mirror, right princess?”

“Yeah, very long time! Mommy always goes dab dab.”

You heard him chuckle and continued the conversations until he had to end the call. “Princess, dada has to go. Listen to mommy and be a good girl. I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“Bye, dada! I love you.”

“Bye, princess. Tell mommy I said I love you.”

She stood up and ran to you, handing you back the phone with the brightest smile, which had everything to do with the little time with her dad.

“Dada said I love you mommy!”

“I love you too.” She giggled in your arms as you poked on her waist. “Who taught you how to call dada, hm?”

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You were sitting at the living room, leaving Charles and your daughter having their own time. Faint giggles and maffles could be heard filling the silence.

“Girl secured the bag but still got cheated on.”

“Proof that a child is not enough to make a man loyal. Good try, girl.”

Though it had been more than a month since what happened, your social media was still full of unpleasant comments. Your life had been in a downward spiral, even more when Ferrari’s official account had posted a few photos from the weekend and you saw the woman who was in the picture with Charles months ago in the background of the photos. The comments were quick to jump into their own assumptions and speculations, making you felt more oppressed within every minute you spent on your phone.

“Where’s she?” You asked when you saw Charles in the living room, no longer hearing her squeals and laughters. Your phone was no longer in your hand as you turned it off. Charles had took a seat on the couch, afar from you since you kept on shutting him out so he just knew you wouldn’t want him close to you this time as well.

“She’s asleep.” He grabbed your hand as you were walking trying to walk pass him to get yourself a drink. “Bab– Y/N, can we talk?”

“There’s nothing to talk about, Charles.”

“You can’t keep on doing this.” He was now standing only a step away. “I miss you. I don’t want to come home to an empty house. Please, tell me what you want me to do.” His fingers softly traced your cheek, making your heart beat faster, yearning for more of his touch. “I’ll fix the mess. I’ll speak up about this, let the news clear out my name, your name. I need you, Y/N, please.”

You wanted to give in. You were so close to give into his wishes, his plead but you couldn’t. Never once in your life would you imagine yourself to be in a situation where your husband got tangled up with another woman that people started making fun of your innocent child.

“You need to leave.” You paced back, feeling his touch leaving an imprint on your skin.

“Y/N,”

“Leave, please. I’m not doing this tonight.”

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The scream of your daughter took up the house as she saw Charles walked through the door. You had told Charles you wanted to do a small birthday for her and he had set everything up that you didn’t have to lift a finger. A day before a group of people came by to start putting on balloons and ribbons in your house. The food and drinks started ti arrive a few hours ago so you were only left with a few task when you had to dress her up and prepare a few starter and dessert. The guests were not a lot. You had invited your friends, their kids, family members and of course, Charles.

“Hey, princess! Happy birthday!”

Charles immediately picked her up and attacked her chubby cheeks with kisses, causing her to squirm while giggling. “You are so pretty, princess. Did you wear mommy’s lipstick?” He laughed and wiped the smudge at the ends of her lips.

“I stole mommy’s lipstick!”

“Knew it! You should have asked mommy to help put it on you. Where’s mommy?” She had ran to join her friends back to the small backyard garden, leaving Charles’s question left unanswered as he ambled to the kitchen to see you were preparing a cheese board for the guests.

“Do you need help?

“Oh, yeah. Can you help me open the pack of crackers and just plate it nicely on this serving board? You handed him the board to which he took it and started opening crackers that you had placed on the kitchen counter while you went back to cutting the cheese.

Both of you were doing things in silence so you didn’t bother to check up on him as you only asked his help for the simplest task ever. One that even your daughter could do.

You had realised it wasn’t as simple as you thought it was when you looked at the board which was supposed to be filled with crackers, were only filled with a few ones while the rest went into his mouth.

“Charles!” Charles’s hand stop moving as he looked at you. “I asked you to put them on the board, not eat them!”

“It’s addictive. Give it a try.” He offered you one and you took it, chuckling as you chew. “Right? I told you! It’s tasteless but it’s good. Do you want more?”

He moved closer to put the cracker to your mouth when you declined, making you laugh as you tried to move your face away. “It’s not that good. I don’t want it!”

He cackled along, arm finding its way on your waist as he pulled you close. “God, I missed you so much.”

“Hello?”

“Yeah–” The smile on your face ceased as your eyes landed on the owner of the voice, the same woman who was caught in a gossip with the guy standing in front of you. “Oh, hi.”

“Y/N, this is Leah. She’s–“ Charles tried to grab your arm as you tried to walk out of the kitchen. “Baby, wait–“

“I need to check on my daughter.”

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“Isn’t that the girl that was in the picture? Did you invite her?”

The drink in your hand tasted somewhat bitter. “No, she came with Charles.” You replied, eyes locked on your daughter as she played with her dad and Leah in the backyard.

“Is he trying to introduce you to his new girlfriend?”

“I don’t know.” You stretched out your arms as your little girl came running to you. “Did you have fun with dada?”

“Yes! Can mommy play too?” She jumped and tugged on your finger to get you off the couch. “Please please!”

“Alright, alright. I’m coming.” You patted her head, giving your friends a glance as you trailed after her to the backyard where Charles was on the grass, joining by your daughter after.

“Dada, let mommy be the tagged!”

“You asked me to join you only for you to gang up with dada? Come here!” You gasped dramatically and chased after her while she waddled to the end of the backyard. “Oh, tag.” Charles had just stood on his feet and stopped by your side as he saw you focusing on the little girl when you tapped on his arm.

“Oh, come on! Really? I thought you were chasing after her.” Charles groaned. He barely had a 5 minutes break and thought you were chasing after the little one instead of him, which was why he wasn’t running away.

“I can’t catch her!”

“Okay, then I’ll just tag you back.” He poked on your cheek, laughing when you clicked on your tongue, thing that you always do when you get annoyed.

“Charles, can I borrow you for a second?”

“Yeah, I’ll be right back.” He left your side when Leah called out for him, both of them seemed to be engrossed in a discussion. Leaving you alone while your daughter had found her way back into her group of friends. You saw your friends’ sympathetic eyes on you as they called you out to join them back.

You felt pathetic.

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For the rest of the birthday party, you tried to ignore Charles and his partner though you could feel his eyes on you the whole time. Every time you caught a glance of both of them, exchanging conversations and smiles while she kept on showing something on her phone, tears would welled up in your eyes and you couldn’t cry, not today. Today isn’t about you.

“Baby, can you please stop ignoring me?”

You bumped into Charles as you tried to head to to kitchen and he had gripped on your arm, forcing you to stay as you were trying to get away from Charles again when the front door opened as you saw a man with 2 kids around your daughter’s age walked in with a birthday present nicely wrapped in his hand.

“Happy birthday!” The kids shrieked and handed the birthday present to your daughter as they ran to join the kids outside.

“There you are! What took you so long?” Leah exclaimed as she pulled the man into a hug. “Y/N, this is my husband and my kids. I hope you don’t mind three extra guests?”

“No, not at all.” A soft smiled creeped in as a mask to hide your true feelings before you made your way into your room with Charles chasing after you.

You felt so dumb. First you had to see your husband’s new “girlfriend” then having to constantly see your husband played with your kid while his new girl a step away as she laughed and smiled along, one when your husband left your side in a blink the second Leah called out for him, only to find out that all of that was just an act and that she actually had a husband and kids. You felt your throat tighten up as you breathed in a short intake. “Did you try to make me look like a fool because you aced it.”

“No, that’s– no, not at all. Y/N–“

“I feel so woeful and pathetic. If this– if this is your payback because I took your daughter away, I’m sorry.” You sobbed into the palm of your hands.

“Baby, no. No, that– that’s not it. You got the wrong idea. I brought her along because I had a scheduled medical checkup and she had to tag along. I thought she could be the one to explain to you what actually happened since you refused to listen to my explanation.” Your trembling hand in now in his while he cupped his free hand on your left cheek, thumb wiped off the fresh tears that rolled down you cheeks. It had been a week since the last time he touched you, month since he hugged you and there was a hole in his heart from your absence. You didn’t reject him, not this time so he continued. “Yes, she was in the room with me but I was asleep and she was looking for my stuff. Something that she wanted to borrow. We didn’t cuddle or do anything at all. Not like how the news portrayed. She came in with Joris because he had the access to my room but they didn’t catch that moment so it just seemed like there was only both of us.”

Your tongue was tied, your head was in a shamble. You didn’t know know what to do, what to react, what to respond. If what he was saying was true, then why did he seemed so close with her. Why would he go to his daughter’s birthday party with her. Why would he left you just because she called out for him.

“You know how much I love you, Y/N. I would never do anything that would break your trust on me. I was asleep. I would have asked Joris to not allow her inside my room if I was awake. I didn’t know there were pictures taken.”

“I don’t know, Charles. I’m just– “ You tilted you head away as you felt your throat closing up. “Everything I saw earlier didn’t make it seemed as if nothing happened between you guys.”

“What did you see?” He leaned in, tugging on your hand in his just so you would look back at him. “Tell me, baby, what did you see?”

“You came to the birthday party with her looking like a happy couple as if you tried to shove that in my face.”

“We didn’t. We didn’t come together, Y/N. She drove her own car but we came from the same place, remember? Her husband wanted to buy a last minute birthday gift, just before they came here so she had to ask for my opinion since they didn’t know what they should give.” You felt his thumb kept on stroking the back of your hand, he wanted to pull you in his embrace but he couldn’t afford getting rejected again. He didn’t know if you wanted him to touch you but grateful enough that you didn’t retract your hand away so he wouldn’t ask for more if your weren’t comfortable just yet.

“I am such a fool…” Your voice trailed off with tears streaming down your face.

“No, you are not a fool. You needed reassurance which I failed to give.” Charles then surrendered to his own wish and eventually engulfed you in his arms. “Is this okay? Can I hug you?” He didn’t get your response but he felt your arms on his back, returning the hug.

“I’m sorry…” You tilted your head to look at him with swollen eyes.

“We are both at fault here.” He drew in his arms tighter around your frame. “Will you come back to me? Come back home?”

“Do you still want me back?”

“I will always want you back, baby. Always.” He pulled away and pecked on your cheek, chuckling when you started having hiccups from crying too much.

“Dada?”

He pulled away and turned to look at his little girl walked in with a lollipop in her hand. You stayed behind Charles so you could pat your eyes dry before she noticed.

“Is mommy okay?” She slanted her body to peek on you as Charles continued to cover you with his back.

“Mommy’s fine, princess. Mommy’s eyes just hurt a little.”

“Give mommy this!” She offered Charles her lollipop, making both of you laughed.

“Charles took the lollipop and extended it to you. “Would you like a lollipop, baby?”

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#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #f1 imagines #charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagines #f1 imagine #f1 x reader

[justauthoring]

the bait.

zoro only wishes he'd gotten there earlier.

a/n: okay, so... listen, three things; i meant to write something for opla when it came out but of course, as usual, i'm late to everything :) (fashionably late???) second, i can't help it. i love protective!zoro :) and third, yes i will post the third part to naturally soon!

ALSO! i've never seen one piece (probably won't ever tbh) so this is strictly based off of the live action. if things aren't canon accurate to the anime, it's because it's not meant to be!

word count: 3,757

warnings: attempted sexual assault, creepy guy, also rushed ending

want to support your local writer? send me a coffee!

“Absolutely not.”

At least, that’s what he said.

No one had really bothered to listen to him regardless of the fact.

“Zoro,” you sigh, frowning at the nasty glare set on his face, harsh eyes set specifically on Nami as he faces her fully, arms crossed over his chest, seconds away from practically lunging at her (at least, it sure seemed that way – you knew, or hoped, he wouldn’t actually).

He doesn’t acknowledge you. Not at first. It takes you grabbing him by the crook of his elbow and tugging him to face you for his eyes to finally fall on you. Almost instantly, his gaze softens as you shake your head up at him.

“There’s no way I’m letting her use you as bait like that–”

“It wasn’t Nami’s idea, Zoro,” you huff, “it was mine.”

His lips part, hands falling to his side in disbelief. “What.”

“We need that treasure, yeah?” You ask, trying to appeal to his logical side. The rest of the crew is watching as well, and you know he’d rather not make a scene in front of all of them if he can help it. He’s not thinking all that rationally, though and you know that as well. The second the plan had left Nami’s lips, he’d cut her off with a harsh no that everyone had chosen to ignore at first. The second time he’d said the words, he’d been firmer, harsher, a cruel tone bleeding into his tone as he cut Nami off.

You needed him to understand that this wasn’t her idea and this certainly wasn’t her fault.

“Yeah,” he nods, shrugging, “but we can easily steal it another way–”

“Not unless you want all of the Marines after us in seconds–”

“We can handle them,” Zoro cuts Nami off, turning to her once again with a glare. “I can.”

Nami rolls her eyes; “the whole of the Marine’s?”

And his answer is blunt; “yeah.”

She scoffs.

Stepping in before the two of them actually fight, you opt for physically stepping in front of Zoro this time. “Listen, this was my plan, okay?” You try to placate, setting your hand on Zoro’s chest to hold him back. “Mine alone. I’m volunteering. When we scoped things out, he wouldn’t take his eyes off of me, right?” Zoro frowns at the recollection, and you’re quick to continue. “I'll distract him just while Nami quickly slips in. In and out, she grabs the treasure and the second she gives me the okay, I leave, right?”

You turn to Nami, smiling at her.

“Yup,” she nods, leaning against the table where her map lays of the restaurant the heist would be taking place in. “In, out. I’m quick. I wouldn’t do this if I thought Y/N was in any danger.” 

Turning back to Zoro, you nod; “see?”

“Besides,” Sanji speaks up, shrugging his shoulders. “The rest of us will be keeping an eye just in case.”

“Yeah!” Luffy calls out, grinning widely at Zoro who stares back at him unimpressed. “We won’t let anything happen to Y/N! I promise.”

Zoro doesn’t say anything at first. His eyes drift from Luffy, across the crew, Nami and then finally you. He can tell that no matter how much he argues, none of them are going to budge–and Nami had a point. He knew that the crew would never intentionally ever put you in any danger. 

Not to mention you… he could tell this was important to you. Helping the crew like this.

“Fine,” he huffs, ignoring the tightness in his chest as he meets your gaze. “But the second something goes wrong, mission or not, I’m–”

“Stepping in,” Nami finishes for him, sending a smirk Zoro’s way as she rolls her eyes. “I’d expect nothing less.”

And that settles that. A moment later and Nami is finishing the plan, you lean in to listen intently to her words as Zoro watches from behind you, eyes drifting across you. It wasn’t that he didn’t have faith in your abilities, but it was the premise of the entire idea. Zoro didn’t need to know the man they were trying to steal from to know he was a sleazebag–the guy practically oozed it and a single glance at him at Zoro feeling disgusted.

To know that you’d have to be batting your eyes at a man like that?

It made him feel sick.

-

It didn’t help that you were exceptionally skilled at it, though.

Sanji’s kept a very close eye on him since the entire operation began, never drifting too far in fear that Zoro might lunge forward at any given second. If the cook was being honest, he wasn’t all that comfortable with what was happening either (a gentleman like himself, of course) but he also knew how crucial this mission was and he didn’t want to put Nami in any unnecessary danger either.

So, he stuck to the plan and tried to make sure Zoro did too.

God, why’d he always have to get stuck with the mosshead?

- 

“I must say, you look rather… fetching tonight, my dear.”

Forcing a smile on your lips, you turn your head towards the man, batting your eyelashes prettily as you brush a strand of ruly hair behind your ear. You play the part of bashful well, even though you feel sick to the stomach at the man’s rather… gross flirts.

“Why, thank you Mr. Becker,” you smile back at him, letting your weight fall against the side of the counter of the bar. When the mission had started, you’d come here first, remembering that Nami had told you that your target often spent his free time at the bar, drinking himself to a stupor and preying on whatever poor girl had caught his eye that night. Of course, tonight you were his prey and you had every intention of making sure that by the end of the night, this man would prey.

It was the main reason why you’d been so okay with offering yourself up as bait. Never in a million years would you allow your body to be used like this, but this man was notorious for trapping young rich women, lying to them with pretty words and hopeful promises, until he forced himself on them and stole every pretty penny off of them. The Strawhat’s goal was to get the treasure for yourselves, but your main goal was to teach this man a lesson.

You could see why so many women fell for his tricks. Despite being older, he was handsome–though the admission felt sour on your tongue–and he was exceptionally charming. Or, rather, he would be if you didn’t know the truth. An hour of his charms and flirts and you’re already feeling exhausted from his games, knowing that this is just what he does… makes a woman feel special and beautiful, only to use them for sex and steal every bit of their money right off of them. He had a big enough name that no one believed these women, but you? You did.

“Please,” he admonishes, “call me Rinano.”

You beam, “thank you, Rinano,” you correct, making sure to say his sultry tone, shifting your body so that you’re facing him. The dress Nami had found for you certainly was beautiful, you only wished you’d gotten to wear it on better terms. A floor length, black, silk dress that hugged you in all the right places, with a rather tempting slit that ran quite high on your leg and a neckline that dipped low enough to have anyone’s eyes glancing at it. 

You know the second the words leave your lips, the words go straight to the man’s penis. His eyes bulge faintly, and this dazed look washes over his eyes as his eyes dip lower, just briefly, taking in the view of your chest.

You ignore the shiver that threatens to run up your spine.

“Please, Y/N, I think it’s time we moved this somewhere else, no?” He offers, eyes finally falling back on your own as he extends a hand out towards you. “Somewhere… a little more private?”

You mull on the decision briefly. It wasn’t part of your plan to go anywhere private with the man, knowing that this is how he lures women into his trap… but Nami still wasn’t done. Or, at least, she hadn’t given the signal. And you didn’t want to risk her or the mission…

Letting a smile curl on your lips, you set your hand in his.

“I’d love to.”

He grins, shifting to lead you through the crowd. You chance a glance back towards where you know Zoro is, but it’d gotten a lot busier since you’d come in and you can’t make him out in the crowd. Your chest tightens with worry, but you try to shake it off. You know Zoro would never let his eyes off of you, and you know the rest of your crewmates wouldn’t ever let you be in any danger either. You’re sure, even if you can't see him, that Zoro knows where you are.

-

“Hey man, you got a light?”

A frown curls onto Zoro’s lips when suddenly there’s a group of men standing around him, effectively blocking off his view of you. His body tenses as he glances at the three men, noticing for the first time just how busy it's gotten in the restaurant–Zoro and the rest of them had already had to make sure there was enough distance between you and them so as not to blow your cover. Zoro, though he argued against it, was forced to stand near the entrance of the restaurant, a good distance away from the bar and where you were, but it had been fine because Zoro had still been able to see you.

Now though? Especially with these idiots standing in front of him? He couldn’t see you at all.

A quick glance to the left and Zoro realizes he’s been separated from Sanji somehow as well.

Shit.

“Excuse me,” one of the men cuts in, taking a step towards Zoro. “We asked you a question.”

“No,” Zoro answers bluntly, glaring at the men as he tries to shove his way through.

“Are you sure?” Another one asks, the one holding a cigarette in his hands, a frown on his lips but as Zoro’s eyes flicker to him, he notices a glint in the man's eyes. “I forgot one at home and I’ve just been dying for a smoke–”

“I don’t have one,” Zoro grounds out, “get out of my way.”

The third one steps in front of him, hands held by his sides as he laughs; “hey, man… we’re just talking here. No reason to get mad.”

Zoro glares at him.

“I mean…” the one holding the cigar speaks up, “it’s not like you’re looking for someone, is it?”

Panic sets in then. By the smirks on their faces, Zoro comes to the startling realization that these men aren’t just annoying but that they must be Rinano’s men and they’re fully aware of who Zoro is and what he’s here for. And if they knew, then…

Zoro doesn’t hesitate, his right hand falls on his swords before striking his leg out towards the man to his left, knocking him up the chin and effectively knocking him on his ass. Instantly, a chaos of panic ensues as Zoro fights the other two, screams from other people in the restaurant but Zoro pays no mind to them. Rinano’s men are exceptionally weak that it barely takes Zoro anything to knock them down, and his eyes instantly shoot towards the bar the second he can, only for his heart to fall the pit of his stomach when he realizes you’re no longer there.

“Zoro!”

It’s Sanji who’s calling out for him, racing towards him through the panicked crowd and he’s slightly out of breath when he reaches him. Sanji’s eyes fall on the three men on their backs around Zoro and sighs; “so, they know.”

“Y/N’s not at the bar.”

Sanji’s eyes widen, head snapping towards the bar before he curses. “They knew who I was, tried to corner me like you. We should find Luffy and Usopp–”

“There’s no time.” Zoro cuts in, shaking his head. “You go. I’m finding Y/N.”

Zoro is pushing his way through the crowd before Sanji can say otherwise, leaving the cook to let out a huff.

-

The door slams behind you the second you step through, causing you to jolt slightly in reaction. When you turn your head over to glance, Rinano is simply smiling in your direction, stepping past you and further into what you assume is his ensuite above the restaurant. You hadn’t really known where you expected Rinano to lead you, but you figured it made sense he’d have a room above the restaurant he owned–it was, after all, easily accessible for the women he’d lead from the bar.

You’re quiet, scoping the room as Rinano pulls out two wine glasses at the bar located on the far end of the room. His back is turned to you as he prepares the glasses, and you shrug, using the time to see if you can find anything; Nami had snuck into the vault you knew was in the basement but you figured there might be something worth taking in here.

“For you.”

Blinking, you turn back to Rinano, smiling faintly as you accept the glass from him and take a seat right by the bar. Rinano takes a seat across from you, swirling the wine around in his cup, eyes on you as you take a slow sip of the wine. You weren’t a big drinker and you’d been careful to monitor your intake throughout the night, not wanting to be tipsy while with a man like Rinano–but one drink wouldn’t hurt. Plus, you needed the courage to steal your nerves.

It was a whole new ballgame being alone with him like this.

Honestly, you still weren’t really sure what you were doing. You just hadn’t wanted to put Nami in any danger and tip him off at all…

“You know,” Rinano says, and your eyes fall on him, head tilting in curiosity. “I didn’t think I’d see you again.”

Letting out a light laugh, you shrug; “well, the food here was delicious.”

“Ah, yes, I know.” You resist the urge to roll your eyes–smug asshole. “But, if I remember correctly, you hadn’t come alone last time, right?”

Body tensing, you take another sip of your wine. “Ah, no,” you nod, setting the wine glass down as you fix the strap of your dress. “No, I came with two friends before.”

“Yes, a boy with an odd straw hat and a man with green-hair and three swords.” Rinano recalls, and your eyes squint–what was he getting at? “If I remember correctly, the green-haired man made quite a fuss about being allowed to keep his… weapons on him.”

You blink. You… hadn’t known Rinano had been watching all of that.

“Yes, well, he’s very protective of them,” you explain, leaning against the back of the seat when you feel your vision blur for a moment, head spinning momentarily. 

“It’s also odd, you see,” Rinano continues, leaning forward, arms resting on his knees as he stares back at you, gaze intensely on your own. He’s waiting, you realize–watching you, more like it. Why, you’re not sure. “I could’ve sworn I saw a similar looking man watching us from the entrance all night. He seemed particularly keen on keeping his eyes on you.”

You feel your breath quicken, and somehow, you can’t explain it, your hands are shaking. Your whole body feels like it’s shaking, actually.

“The two of you seemed close that first night you came in,” Rinano continued. “I’d tried to catch your attention that entire night, but you hadn’t seemed to care when he was next to you. And him on the other hand… he’d glared at me the entire night for even looking at you. I wonder why, then… you were at my bar tonight, batting your eyelashes at me with your tits out on display?”

You stare back at him, noticing the anger and glint in his eyes as he stares back at you. Something uncomfortable twists in your chest and you’re moving to stand before you even realize. “I… I think it’s time I–” but your words get cut off as you feel your world spin. You’d stood up, you know that, but you find yourself on your back, staring up at the ceiling and your body won’t respond to you despite how hard you try to make it.

Then, Rinano is in front of you, leering over you.

“I’m afraid that won’t be possible,” he smiles down at you, “you enjoyed the wine more than I expected.”

Your eyes widen, blinking as you feel your body slipping.

“You–you asshole!” you cry, forcing the words out but they’re more slurred than anything. Rinano just laughs, and then his hands are on you, grabbing you by the waist as he moves to pick you up. You use every last bit of strength in your body to push him off, forcing your legs to work as you move to stand but you make it one step before you’re crashing to the ground, hitting it with a hard thud that has your breath leaving you for a moment.

In a flash, you’re flipped around, Rinano over top of you.

“I imagine you thought you’d come in here, get your money’s worth and rob me blind, yes?” Rinano grins down at you, and your body refuses to move even as his hand moves to the strap of your dress, pulling it down. “But you see, Y/N, that’s not how this works. Women are simple creatures and all it takes is a pretty smile and they’ll bend over backwards for men like me. Usually, I like to pick women who have something more than just their bodies to offer me, but… well, you really did catch my eye that night.”

The strap of your dress is yanked off, while his free hand hikes the skirt of your dress up, revealing your panties and bra. Your mind screams at you to do something, but your body refuses to listen. You can feel your heart pounding madly against your chest, but nothing happens.

“St–stop!” you cry, tears welling in your eyes as you feel his hands lift you, moving to the zipper of your dress. “Get off me! Stop!” but your words are slurred as your lips begin to fail you as well. The sob that wretches past your lips is piercing as you hear the familiar sound of a zipper, feeling a cold brush against your back before the carpet of the floor scratches against your bare skin.

Rinano leers above you, eyes dazed as he moves to pull your dress off.

“You really are magnificent,” he whispers, “maybe I’ll just keep you around… you’ll be my own personal treasure.”

Your head lolls to the left, feeling his hands drift across your bare stomach as tears stream down your cheeks.

Where… where was Zoro?

You wanted Zoro.

But in the back of your mind, you knew that if Rinano had known about you, he’d known about the rest of them as well.

You feel Rinano’s fingers slip under the band of your panties when the door slams open. You can’t turn to see who it is, but the sight of it is enough to have Rinano’s eyes widening, panic flooding his vision before suddenly his weight is knocked off of you and you see a familiar flash of green blur past you before a cry echoes across the room. There’s the distinct sound of someone choking, gasping for breath, but you can’t turn and see and you’re left there, exposed and vulnerable, sobs wracking your body, until a shadow falls over you.

Zoro is suddenly there. His wide eyes are on you, panic flooding his gaze as he pulls you into his arms, pulling your dress up and back on as he zips the back of it for you. You’re limp in his grasp and you want to say something, force your mouth to move, but you can’t. All you can do is stare back at him as he pulls you into his arms.

“It’s okay,” he whispers and it’s the softest you’ve ever heard him sound. “I’ve got you. You’re okay.”

-

Nami had profusely apologized but you’d only brushed her off.

It seemed Rinano’s one mistake was he hadn’t known about Nami so everything on her end had been successful. For that, you were grateful. It wasn’t all for nothing.

The rest of the boys had come to check up on you as well the next day, clearly each worried but you’d brushed all their concerns off. It wasn’t any of their faults. It was yours… and you wouldn’t let them take the blame.

It takes a whole day before Zoro finally checks up on you.

He’s eerily quiet as he steps into the room. It’s late at night but Nami wasn’t here yet… by the look on Zoro’s face, you figure he’d asked her to hang back a minute, give you two some privacy.

You watch him, a frown on his lips as he takes a seat next to your small cot. 

Then, after a minute, you speak up; “I'm sorry.”

And his eyes widen, head snapping to you in disbelief.

You just shake your head, a sob breaking past your lips as you curl into yourself. “I'm so sorry. This is all my fault. It was my idea and you could’ve gotten hurt because of me–”

Zoro cuts you off by setting his hand on your own, squeezing. Your eyes fall on him, lips left parted, sniffling. “This isn’t your fault,” he mumbles. “I came in here with every intention of telling you to never do that again… to never use you as bait but… but that wouldn’t be fair of me. And I’m not here to make you feel worse.”

Your lip trembles. “I… I didn’t think that’d happen,” you whisper, staring down at your entwined hands. “I… I was so scared.”

Shaking his head, Zoro leans forward, “I wouldn’t ever let anything like that happen to you. I’m just… sorry it got that far.”

You squeeze his hand back, “it’s okay. You came. That’s all that matters to me.”

#one piece #one piece x reader #one piece live action #opla #opla x reader #zoro roronoa #zoro roronoa x reader #opla!zoro x reader #opla!zoro #opla!zoro roronoa

[ichorai]

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

pairing ; roman roy x f!reader

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

words ; 32.0k

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

warnings / includes ; depictions of mental and physical abuse, talks of sexual misconduct (cruises incidents), mentions of death, a lot of sexual/suicidal jokes and general foul language, a lot of business talk, phone sex & a handjob, degradation, roman’s implied demisexuality, reader's got a tooth motif bcs all the other roy sibs have their own motifs, a lot of morally grey shit

series masterlist. main masterlist.

The Roy’s summer home in the Hamptons was nothing short of grand. That was always the bare minimum for the family, after all. Though you had been preoccupied with work, having a lot piled up because of your time off for Shiv’s wedding—you had dropped quite a few important meetings to come at Logan’s behest. He called for you, and for all his children, to come to the Hamptons and discuss his plans to sell the company.

You stepped into the home, hands buried within your pockets. Immediately, you were hit by an overwhelmingly foul stench. It smelled an awful lot like rotten meat and, strangely, the piss-sodden alleyways in New York. Your face twisted into a grimace as you strode in, finding Kendall wandering aimlessly downstairs.

“Hey, uh, hi,” he said, awkwardly reaching for a hug when you stuck your arm out for a handshake. The both of you gingerly stepped away from each other.

“What’s that smell?” you asked, knowing full and well that Roman and Shiv were still quite angry with him for basically stabbing them in the back.

“Oh, uh, I don’t know. I think they’re trying to figure that out,” he replied, waving his hands around to gesture to the milling workers. “You, uhm, you’ll get used to it. Listen, Y/N, I know you and Rome are close, so I just wanted to ask if you could… talk to him. For me.”

Arching a brow, you tilted your head. “You can’t talk to him yourself?”

“He’s not… he’s being difficult right now.”

“Understandably so.”

There was a melancholic look to his eyes. “I know. Can you just tell him I’m sorry? I want… I want us to be okay.”

Pursing your lips, you gave him a firm nod. “Okay, yeah, sure. No promises that it’d change anything, though. You know where he is?”

“By the beach. With Shiv.”

With a hum of farewell, you started backing off, making your way to the sandy shores not too far from the house. You spotted their figures in the distance, bundled in dark coats and long scarves. When they spotted you approaching, the both of them waved.

“Hey, guys,” you greeted, smiling brightly.

“Hey, fuck-face,” said Roman, giving you a quick hug, before stepping back to allow Shiv to do the same. “We were all waiting for you.”

“Sorry I’m late—work has been kicking my ass lately.” 

Snorting, Roman quipped, “You know you can take a couple days to relax, right? I’m literally your boss.”

“I’m a general manager, Rome. If I stop, that’s a large chunk of Waystar down. I’m trying to keep the company from sinking further into the depths of hell,” you said lightly, crossing your arms. “But it seems like Logan wants to sell it away. What’s our viewpoint?”

The both of them struggled for words.

“If the selling isn’t actually real… like some kind of fucked-up loyalty test, we were just talking about how dad’s going to kill Kendall,” said Shiv, looking none too upset about the prospect. “How that would mean it could be Rome who takes up the mantle.”

That made sense. Connor was not an option, not in Logan’s eyes. He was barely a son to the man, much less the heir to his legacy.

“It could,” you said, careful. “It could also mean you, though.”

 Both you and Roman stared Shiv down. 

Finally, she caved and shook her head with a humorless laugh. “Yeah. Yes, it could be me.”

Sensing that the two of them were on the verge of another catfight, you quickly intercepted, “I bumped into Kendall in the house just now. He wanted me to, uhm, tell you that he’s sorry.”

Roman’s features twisted. “Well, tell him he can stick his apologies up his ass.”

“I’m not a fucking messenger! Tell him that yourself.”

Rolling her eyes, Shiv jerked her head back to the house. “We should probably get back inside. Dad’s gonna be here any minute by now.”

It was on your trek back that the three of you bumped into Kendall, who was wearing sunglasses even though the sky wasn’t all that visible through the gloomy clouds. Both Shiv and Roman didn’t hesitate to duke out their frustrations on him, asking why he changed his mind on the takeover so quickly. 

“You do realize how fucked you’re going to be once you’re no longer of any use to him, right?” asked Roman to his older brother. “He’s got you eating fuckin’ humiliation gumbo on TV, and then what? Nothing.”

Snickering, Shiv added in, “Dad’s gonna play a merry tune on you and then throw you out the fucking window. You know that, right?”

“He’s like a sex robot for dad to fuck,” said Rome.

“He’s like a beaten dog.”

“He’s both of those things—and also a piece of shit.”

To your surprise, Kendall stood by and took all the insults his siblings lobbied at him, expression permanently fixed into one of unadulterated misery. A part of you felt bad for him, but another part of you knew he’d brought this upon himself.

Shiv stepped closer to him, each one of her words saturated in venom. “He’s a fucking narcissist who repeatedly puts his self-interest above everything else, and then tries to justify it with half-assed appeals of the rigors of the fucking market.”

“You’re a fucking prick,” Roman finally tacked on after Shiv’s mini-monologue. He glanced over at you. “Y/N, you wanna throw a punch?”

“What were you thinking, Kendall?” you quietly asked. “In what world did you see yourself winning against your father? And even if you did win, it’d be at the cost of your siblings. Would you kill them for your own personal gain? And not to mention that you relapsed and you’re not getting the help you need. You didn’t even thank Roman and I for picking you up from that addict’s shithole. We got you out of there because we were worried for you. We care about you. And you threw that right back in his face.”

Your words lingered heavily between the four of you. 

When Kendall remained as silent as a statue, Roman let out a loud groan, rolling his eyes to the side. “Come on! Fight back, you fuck-bag.”

“Guys, I just… I…” Kendall paused to look off into the waters. “I can’t get into it.”

“Oh, you can’t get into it? Shucks,” Roman mocked. “Fuck you. Come on, man. Treat us! Why did you actually back out?”

Shame flooded his features. He completely disregarded Roman’s question by telling his little sister, “I’m sorry, Shiv. About the wedding.”

There were tears in her eyes. Her father had made her cry after ruining family therapy, and now her older brother was making her cry after ruining her wedding. 

“How dare you apologize to me?” she asked, a sharp edge to her tone. With that, she rotated on her heel and strode off. 

You and Roman followed after her, your arm linked with his.

“You look like shit, by the way,” Roman murmured to his brother as he brushed past him.

By the time you got back to the house, you caught sight of the cooks dumping the expensive food they’d been preparing and laboring over for hours straight into the trash. When you wondered aloud what was going on, one of them quietly answered that they’d found the source of the smell—a dead raccoon covered in maggots, rotting in the chimney. Logan demanded all the food be removed because it’d been sitting around in the stench, calling for pizza to be ordered instead. 

When lunch rolled around, you sat between Roman and Kendall, feeling incredibly tense. The atmosphere between the siblings had yet to clear, and you weren’t quite sure if it ever would. The chatter died away when Logan cleared his throat sharply to quell the commotion and greet the family.

He began with a blunt address of the bear hug situation, which you noticed made Kendall’s foot tap against the floor in agitation.

“I guess the question is… do we really want this fight?” he asked. “Or is now the moment to cash in and fuck off out of the casino?”

Silence. He was met with dead silence.

“If we do fight, I need to tell the board who I want to take over,” said Logan. “So, please—I want you to speak freely.”

His words made Shiv tip her head back and scoff-laugh. “Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law?”

“Come on! We’re pals here. Let’s fuckin’ have it out!” gruffed Logan as he surveyed the table.

As if to purposefully push her father’s buttons, Shiv crossed her arms and pointedly kept her mouth shut. 

Tentative, Kendall spoke, “I think you should fight, but, uh… you’re the one who built it all. The man, the myth, the legend.”

In a condescending tone, Roman crooned, “Aw. That’s adorable. You’re always lookin’ out for Pops, aren’t you?”

“But is he saying Dad should stay on because that’s what Sandy and Stewy would want?” asked Connor with a frown, ever the conspiracist. “How do we know he’s not a double agent?”

“Nice to see you, too, Con,” mumbled Kendall.

Shaking his head, the older brother said, “Hey, Ken, I’m just saying what others are thinking.”

“It’s possible,” Shiv added, narrowing her eyes.

“Should we frisk him for a wire? Burn him? See if he’s a witch?” joked Roman, scratching at the back of his head.

Interrupting the banter, Logan said, “He’s taken his medicine.”

“Taken his medicine?” Shiv parroted in an affronted manner. “Is that it? Dad—you beat Roman with a fucking slipper in Gustav until he cried for ordering lobster, remember? And Kendall tries to kill you and he’s only five minutes out in the cold?”

You remembered that day. When you’d casually told Roman that you preferred lobster over crab. How he tried to order it for you instead of what was already on the table, and how an already ticked-off Logan was tipped over the edge and lost his shit, taking his frustrations out on Roman. The memory of the actual beating itself was hazy—all you could recall were thuds and muffled whimpers, fearful tears on your cheeks. The purple bruises on his face didn’t fade away for a long while. He would try to joke about it, but you never found it funny. You had apologized over and over again, until Roman told you to shut up and forget about it, nonchalantly adding that he wanted the lobster, too. That it wasn’t just for you.

But it was. It was all yours, had Roman been successful in acquiring the crustacean for you. You didn’t need to know that, though.

Trying his best to shrug off Shiv’s words, Roman tilted his head to the side and quipped, “Well, it’s not polite to order the most expensive item on the menu when you’re not paying, Siobhan.”

Logan could dump a billion dollars into an incinerator and that would barely even make a dent on how much wealth he was hoarding, you wanted to say. You kept your mouth firmly shut, biting down on your tongue.

As per typical Logan fashion, he brushed off the call-out of his abuse to his son. “We’re not doing memory lane here. Come on, spit it out. What do you all think? Stick or sell?”

“Well, I think you’re in the prime of your life,” chimed Tom. “I think another decade is just what the doctor ordered.”

From beside you, Roman’s knee nudged into yours as he began miming choking on a dick. You smiled, almost laughing out loud, but caught yourself before you did. 

“I, uhm, I think selling seems cool…” began Willa.

“Hey, Dad, Willa thinks selling seems cool!” snorted Roman, which made Willa fall uncomfortably silent.

With a disapproving stare, Connor bit out, “Asshole.”

“You,” said Logan. It took you a moment to realize that he was staring directly at you. Heat prickled at the back of your neck. “What do you think?”

You sat up straighter in your chair. “You’ll be rich enough to live a thousand lives if you sell. You’ll still be rich enough to do so if you stay in the game. The only difference is, you lose your legacy if you go with the former.”

Scrutinizing you, Logan dipped his head and took a sip of champagne. “Mmh, wise words, sure. Not your opinion, though. Not what I asked for. Those are just facts we all fuckin’ know. Bah—don’t waste my time. Fucking useless. Leeching off of me while your parents are parading in a nameless exotic country, drinking their brains into toxic liquid that leaks out of their ears.”

Shame curled within your stomach, and a blistering flush spidered through your skin. You could feel all eyes on you, including Roman’s. You were no stranger to Logan’s verbal abuse, but it’d been a long time since he brought up your parents' and their neglectful nature. The wounds were reopened, and stung much worse than you remembered.

Drumming her fingers against the table, Shiv said, “Dad, I think it’s possible that you’ve somewhat chilled the atmosphere of free-flowing debate here.”

“You know, Kodak was trading at about a hundred dollars a share back in ‘97. Yesterday, you could pick it up for about three bucks. That could be us. If we cash out, we could walk away with ten billion.” Logan glanced at his youngest son, noticing how he’d shuffled his chair closer to you. “Roman. What do you think?”

Swallowing, Roman shrugged. “I dunno, Dad. I fuckin’ love money, but I’m really scared of you, so…” He made a high-pitched noise, barely passable as a laugh. “Yeah, uhm, honestly—I’m not sure I’m willing to give my strategic advice in a public forum when I could just be a, uh, a player in any future moves.”

There was obvious exasperation in Logan’s eyes. Disappointments, the lot of you were in his eyes. Without another word, Logan stood up and began to hobble out of the dining room, pizza left untouched. 

“Uhm, Dad?” Roman called out after him, confused. 

He didn’t respond.

Roman patted your back twice before getting up as well, following after his father. Shiv was hot on his heels.

One by one, Logan had told them through the door he had closed behind him. He wanted his kids to come in one by one, alone, so that he could have their unfiltered opinion.

Roman went in first, but not before squeezing your hand, and slipping through. When he emerged only ten minutes later, his face was despondent. But his lips were twitching upwards, and you could immediately tell that he was just faking it.

“He’s dying,” he joked with faux anguish. “Riddled with cancer.”

The way Shiv’s brows kinked told him that she didn’t find it all that funny. “Rome.”

“What? It’s a joke. It’s funny. Dad’s got cancer. What’s not funny about that?” You patted his back and nudged him over to the couches, where Connor and Willa were sitting.

The eldest son rolled his eyes. “Sick puppy,” he called Roman.

“No, but seriously, he asked me to run the company.” Dead silence. “I’m kidding. Or am I?”

It was then that Logan called for Shiv to go in. You took Roman’s arm, leading him off into another room, where it was quieter.

“Hope you’re not planning on molesting me back here,” Roman languidly commented, but didn’t fight off your grip. “Nobody would believe me after what I said about Dad—I’d be like the boy who cried wolf.”

“Rome,” you said, partially exasperated, partially somber. “What did he say back there?”

The man across from you scratched at the back of his head. “Honestly? Nothing.”

“Hm?”

“I mean—I explained to him that it’d be smart to sell some shit, keep some shit. Financialize the company. I don’t know. Couldn’t really gauge his reaction—then he just said okay and told me I could go.” Your friend rested his hands on his hips. “Do you think that was smart? Do you, uhm, think he thinks that was stupid?”

It took you another moment to shake your head tentatively. “I think you did the best you could, given the ultimatum. Besides—you wouldn’t really want to run this shitshow, would you?”

He stepped back in an affronted manner. “What do you mean? You don’t think I can do it?”

“It’s not a matter of whether or not you can do it, Ro. It’s about if you want to or not. And I know you wouldn’t. It’s not… it’s not you. You’ve always said the company was like a cage for you.”

The way Roman squared his shoulders told you that he was growing defensive. “Yeah, well, it’s like a fuckin’—a good fuckin’ golden cage. An amazing cage. A cage where I can roll around and throw shit at people. I’d like to stay here for the rest of my life.”

“Do you? Really?”

“What, is this some kind of reverse psychology bullshit Dad put you up to? Just—” He stepped back when you reached out for him. “Fuck off.”

With a huff, you shook your head. “Roman, you need to pull your head out of your fucking ass and realize that I’m the only friend you have. If you can’t trust me, you’re fucked.”

There was a tense beat of silence between you.

Then, he narrowed his eyes on you. “If you stab my back, I’m going to kill you, then throw myself off the highest building I can find. It’ll be like a Shakespearean tragedy.”

“Okay, Rome.”

“I’ll put your head on a spike. Keep it as decoration.”

Slowly, he let you wrap your arms around him. “Okay, Romeo.”

“I’ll pluck your teeth out and wear them around my neck like a string of pearls.”

“Love you, too, Ro,” you said, hugging him tight.

“Yeah, whatever, fuck-face.” He buried his nose into your neck, inhaling sharply. “I knew you were going to molest me.”

The family reconvened later that night, where Logan announced that he decided he was going to keep the company, claiming his ambitions to be the last man standing. Then, he pronounced Roman and Kendall as co-chief operating officers, much to everyone’s dismay.

“We need to stick tight—tighter than ever now,” Logan defended when Roman began to protest. 

“But he—no. No, I’m sorry. Excuse me? He… he tried to help your oldest enemy to take over and now he’s getting a fucking promotion? Is that what’s happening?” Rome asked from beside you, arms crossed over his chest. 

The old man nodded. “That’s my decision.”

“Well, it’s bullshit,” Roman declared.

Quiet settled over the group. 

Like a dog being kicked, Roman withered away beneath his father’s contemptuous stare. You put a hand on his shoulder. 

“And you’re going to name a successor?” Connor asked.

“After some consideration, I think we just need a name to flag privately to big investors for now. I mean, it could be anyone. I’m not going anywhere. Could be a stuffed fuckin’ shirt. Could be Y/N, for all I know.”

Did he just compare you to a stuffed shirt—?

“Gerri,” said Logan. “It could be Gerri. We might as well say it’s Gerri.”

With a quirked brow, Shiv said, “Congratulations.”

Her godmother tilted her head and shifted in her seat. “Wow. Okay. Thank you.”

“It won’t be Gerri,” Logan rudely clarified. “But Gerri’s fine. Just so we’re clear.”

She was an expert at hiding her disdain, clearing her throat slightly. “No, yeah, I think we’re very clear.”

With that, Logan dismissed himself, calling for Kendall to follow after him. His number one boy.

It was clear that Roman was still upset. He pulled away from you to go sulk about to his sister.

That night, when the moon shone brighter in the Roy’s summer home than it ever did in the city, and you were buried under a thick blanket, you felt the mattress dip beneath another person’s weight. You didn’t need to open your eyes to know it was Roman.

“Shut up,” he gruffed when you smiled ever so slightly, even though you hadn’t said anything.

You hummed pleasantly when he curled his arms around your form like a koala would a tree. The two of you fell asleep that way, breathing each other in and dreaming of necklaces made of teeth.

The acquisition to take on PGM was a bad fucking idea. One of the worst you’ve heard, in fact. When Logan brought it up to you and a few other managers during a meeting, you didn’t hesitate to go bee-lining for Roman’s office, demanding him to tell you every single detail.

“So, you think this is, like, not good?” he asked, voice high-pitched and unstable. Just earlier today, he’d been telling his dad and Shiv what a great idea this was.

“No, Roman. It’s not fucking good. I’m sorry, I don’t know about you, but I don’t want the most trustworthy news source in America right now to be adopted into a fuckin’... fascist, right-wing, conservative dick jerking fest!” You drummed your fingers against his table. “Ro, this can’t happen. It could very well tank Waystar, and news media outlets in general. Reliability goes down, money goes down, our rivals go up. The political climate couldn’t handle such a change like this—”

Pulling at his face, Roman shook his head. “Fuckin’ political climate. Everything’s about the political climate these days. Fuck!”

“Roman, I’m being serious,” you said, brows furrowing. 

He sucked in a deep breath. “Fuck. Ugh—fuck! You are… you’re so…” He made an unintelligible noise while shaking his fists at you, nose wrinkling. “You’re right. God. I hate saying that. Feels like I just took a bite out of a rock. But even if you are, I can’t just stab dad in the back like that.”

Shoulders loosening, you nodded in understanding. “What’re you gonna do?”

“Tabitha is friends with Naomi Pierce. I’ll ask her to get me in touch,” Roman said, lips pursed to the side. It didn’t go past your notice that his stance on the Pierce situation was still left ambiguous. 

Your eyebrows raised a fraction. “Tabitha? You guys still going steady?”

“Uh-huh. Yup. Never better,” he replied, a tad too quickly.

“Really?” you asked. To none of his surprise, you read him like an open book. “You must really like her.”

“Mhm.”

“But not like-like her?”

Roman clicked his tongue to the roof of his mouth in distaste. “What are you, nine?”

“You didn’t say yes,” you said in a sing-song voice. Then, you sobered up to seriously tell him, “Oh, Ro, she’s a great catch, sure, but if you don’t have romantic feelings for her, then don’t string her along like that.”

Rolling his eyes to the side, Roman tried his best to sidestep the topic. “It’s none of your beeswax, you prick. Anyways—you’re coming to Hungary, right? Corporate retreat and all that jazz.”

You didn’t feel like the conversation about Tabitha was quite over, but you let it slide for now. “Yes, Roman. Not really looking forward to it, now that I have to deal with an entire acquisition worth billions hovering over me.”

“Just relax for now—it’s not concrete, even if dad says it is.” Roman stood up from his desk to go pour himself a drink. “I’ll save you a spot on the plane. Next to me, if I’m feeling nice. Next to Greg if I want to be entertained by watching you kill yourself in front of him.”

“Thanks, Romeo,” you dryly said.

“You’re welcome. Okay, you can go away now. I wanna jerk off in front of the window without you watching this time. If you stay, I’ll fuck you against it, and that’d be my one-way ticket to a stern finger-wagging by HR.”

With a snort, you got up from your chair, heading for the door. You couldn’t help the way your cheeks burst aflame at his words, even though you knew it was just light-hearted banter. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, you fuckin’ slut.”

“Bitch,” he shot back, just as you stepped foot out of his office. 

“Whore!” you yelled over your shoulder, loud enough to have a few employees turn their head curiously. 

Roman watched you go through the glass windows, shaking his head with fond amusement.

The estate in Hungary was surrounded by forests and clean air—a stark contrast to New York. You were walking alongside Roman down to the hunting grounds, hands shoved into the pockets of your jacket. The rifle slung across his shoulder kept bumping into you, and you would push him away with a mild grin each time it did. He wasn’t very good at walking straight, eventually colliding into you mere minutes later.

The amicable atmosphere was effectively killed when Kendall approached the two of you, solemn-faced as ever. 

“Hey, guys,” he greeted in a monotone voice. “Listen, I have a question.”

Both of you stared at him, waiting for him to go on.

After an awfully lengthy pause he continued, “So, uh, did you guys get a call from that biographer?”

Right. You’d been in the middle of discussing with Tom how he’d landed a top position at ATN when your phone began to ring. You politely excused yourself to take the call, surprised to hear a woman claiming to write an unauthorized biography on your godfather—and she wanted you as a source. Though you had many opinions on a man, you knew that voicing them would be nothing but trouble for you.

Roman rolled his eyes. “I mean, yeah, obviously. I’m the interesting one, after all.”

When you laughed, Roman grinned along with you. 

“I got a call, too,” you admitted. “Did you?”

Tilting his head into a nod, Kendall mumbled, “Yeah. I did.”

“Well? Are you thinking of talking to her?” asked Roman.

“I don’t know,” Kendall said. “Maybe. You guys?”

“No… but if you’re going to talk to her, then I guess I have to talk to her, too. Just to correct your bullshit,” Roman responded.

Two seconds of silence before you huffed out a sigh. “It's a messy business that I don’t want to involve myself in. If Logan finds out, which I’m sure he will, I’m not going to let myself be killed because of it.”

The two started talking about Pierce. Both of them sounded so awfully fake about the entire ordeal that you wanted to bash their heads together and force them not to speak through a brown nosing filter. Their conversation came to a halt when Roman’s phone began to ring, and he stepped away to answer privately, much to Kendall’s chagrin.

“Hey, Kendall,” you broached, rocking your weight back and forth on your heels. “If you talk to that writer, Logan won’t be as forgiving to you this time. He’ll slit your throat in front of everyone to see.”

The man who you onced looked up to as an older brother stared at you with a dead expression. “I know,” was all he said. 

Once Roman came ambling back, Kendall began to interrogate him about the call. Defensive, Roman lied—you knew he was. He had an obvious tell: the way his nose would twitch and his left eye went all squinty. The older brother told him he was full of shit.

Before they could break out in another argument, a Hungarian hunter came up to the three of you, claiming that the truck was ready to take them out into the wilderness. 

“Let’s go murder a terrified mammal,” quipped Roman, taking your hand and leading you away from Kendall.

The hunting party returned to the estate with four boars. You took no part in the killings, having stayed in the truck to speak to Gerri on the phone. Apparently, she had very strong doubts about adopting PGM, and wanted to know if you felt the same. You were Logan’s family, she had said, and he listened to family more than his own general counsel. 

You told her you would if you could, but Logan was adamant on taking on PGM. No amount of needless peddling would sway his mind. 

Hours later, when the sky was dark and the table was laid out with all sorts of fruits and glasses of spiced wines, everybody was seated for dinner. You sat between Roman and Gerri, speaking to both of them in hushed whispers about nothing quite important.

The amicable atmosphere was shattered when Logan stood up to address everybody. 

“Someone has spoken to Michelle Pantsil.” The biographer. 

Both you and Roman glanced at each other, knowing that it was neither of you. Was it possibly Kendall? Had he been lying to the both of you again? Or had it been someone else? Tom? Greg? Gerri? Frank?

“We’ve got rats on this ship,” continued your godfather, rounding behind people’s chairs in a menacing, domineering manner. “And Pierce—who’s got my back, hm? Who’s really behind me? Anyone wanna own up? Hm? Anyone want to rat out a rat?”

Ah. So it seemed Pierce knew of Logan’s moves now. You didn’t dare chance a glance at Roman, knowing it was him who had told Naomi.

Logan began to sharply question a few people at the table, demanding to know if they had anything they wanted to say to him. It shocked you even further when he barked out an order for everyone to put their phones on the table—both company and private.

“Is that really necessary?” asked Gerri. “I’m not even sure if that’s legal to demand people to—”

“Yeah, well, we’re getting down to brass fucking tacks,” spat Logan, eyeing everybody darkly. You did as he said, placing both of your devices onto the table—you had nothing to hide. From the corner of your eye, you spotted Roman slipping his phone beneath his leg.

When he caught your gaze, his head dipped forward a bit and his eyebrows pulled together. Shut up, his eyes seemed to tell you. Even without verbalizing it, he still somehow managed to be rude to you.

You narrowed them back at him, wordlessly telling him not to worry.

“Karl, do you like the Pierce deal?” Logan queried.

“I do. Yes, I do. Yes, yeah.”

With a dry chuckle, Logan shook his head. “Bullshit. Boar on the floor.”

The two men began their back and forth—Logan commanding Karl to stand in the corner whilst the former sputtered out indignant protests. It was embarrassing and humiliating, and he was going to do it all anyway.

“Tom.”

“Me? Uh, Pierce?”

“Yes,” said an exasperated Logan.

Clearing his throat, Tom hesitantly said, “Well, there’s a lot of factors, but uhm, yes. Personally, I like it. I do.”

“Boar on the fucking floor, over there,” gruffed your godfather, pointing over to where Karl stood. 

With no protest, Tom pushed away from the table and slunk off. 

“Gerri! Stand up! Tell me about Pierce.” 

Her gaze stayed on her untouched plate as she got onto her feet. “Well, to be perfectly honest with you… I’ve, uhm, I’ve had a few doubts.”

“Honesty,” Logan finally said. “You see, everybody? Do you see? Honesty. Greg, stand up! Did you get any orders from my brother? The fucking Conscience of the Prairies?”

Everybody watched as Greg stammered out a near incoherent response. He was sent off to stand next to Tom and Karl, as well. This seemed to be Roman’s breaking point, because he burst into a fit of giggles.

“Roman!” barked his father. 

This brought him back to sobriety. “I like it, Dad, for real—”

“Stand the fuck up!”

With a bitter murmur beneath his breath, Roman got up to his feet. With discreet motions, you silently swiped the phone from his chair and placed it beneath your leg so it wouldn’t be seen by his father. 

Desperate to divert the attention away from him, Roman said, “Kendall took a call from the biographer.”

Logan rested his hands upon Kendall’s shoulders, which made Roman bristle even harder. His older brother droned out, “We all got a call, Rome. Y/N, too.”

“Okay, yes, but you—you seemed like you actually wanted to talk to her.”

“To smoke you out for Dad.”

Roman’s nose wrinkled. “What? Fuck you! Why’d you get to smoke me out? I was smokin’ you out!”

As you watched Logan’s fingers curl into Kendall’s shirt, you couldn’t help but think of him as a meat puppet of sorts. So damaged and broken and directionless, ready to heed every single one of his father’s words. 

“Why don’t you tell us about your mystery call?” 

“Oh, the phone call?” Roman propped a hand on his hip, risking a glance at you. Then, he violently began to scratch at the back of his head. “Yeah, sure, it was Frank. He meant to call you, he wants to know if the plan to overthrow Dad is still happening. ”

Finally pulling away from Kendall, Logan’s voice rang out across the room like a slap to the face. “Someone spiked Pierce. Which one of you boars did it?”

He yelled for the three men in the corner to get down on their knees, claiming it was a game. Your godfather, now more of a monster than a man, called for everyone to get up and cheer, “Boar on the floor!” as Tom, Greg, and Karl scrambled about to eat a sausage that was tossed to them in order to prove their loyalty. He demanded they oink and squeal like real piggies would.

It was cruel and animalistic. And Roman was filming with his personal phone, a sadistic smile on his face. 

You would’ve berated him for it, if not for Kendall cornering you against the wall when everybody else was distracted by the Boar on the Floor spectacle. 

“I know you took Roman’s phone. I saw you,” he said, eyes flickering down to your pockets, where you had hidden away the mobile.

“Fuck off, Kendall,” you responded with a daggered edge. “You touch me, and I’ll bite your fucking head off.”

“I thought you were smarter than this,” he told you. “Defending my brother—do you know how many times he’s fucked you over? How many times he’ll keep fucking you over?”

Curling your upper lip in contempt, you spat out, “Get the fuck away from me, Kendall. What’s wrong with you?”

Suddenly, his hand shot out to grab Roman’s company phone from your pocket, prompting you to shove at him, trying to grab the phone back. The commotion caught the attention of everyone else, Roman included. 

He was quick to step forward, pulling you away from his brother so he could try to yank the device away himself. 

“What the fuck? Give me my fucking phone back, asshole!”

“What are you hiding? What’s the code?”

“Are you fucking serious? My code is, uhm, fuck you—”

The two of them began to tussle, arguing indistinctly as they pulled at each other’s hair and limbs. You stepped back, burying your face in your hands in utter exhaustion. 

When Kendall locked Roman in a chokehold, Roman finally keyed in his PIN, shoving his older brother away with a labored breath. 

“Okay, you got it! You fuckin’ happy? There’s nothing in there. Now give it back—give me my fucking phone!” When he began advancing on his brother again, Colin stepped in to keep him at bay. “What, are you going to touch me, too? Grab my fucking balls—I will drop you, you cocksucker!”

Finally, Kendall opened up Roman’s call history, not at all to see Naomi Pierce at the very top. He didn’t hesitate to tell his father.

“Dad, it was Roman. Roman talked to Pierce.”

Panic weaving through his tone, Roman shook his head. “Dad—I didn’t… I didn’t betray you.”

“Then what’s this call from today?” asked Kendall, holding up the phone. “Why are you talking to her?”

For a moment, Roman’s eyes flickered over to you. “Come on, man. I wasn’t trying to fuck the deal. I was trying to land the deal. I was trying to help—I thought it would be a… a nice surprise.”

His words struck you across the face like a slap. Roman had told you that you were right—that acquiring PGM was a terrible idea. You’d thought he was on your side. And now—it seemed like he was doing it all for his father’s favor. The best of both worlds, blew right up in his face.

“Roman,” began Logan, “you’re a moron.”

Crackling silence.

Kendall cleared his throat. “Boar on the floor?”

Having enough of him, you snapped, “Shut the fuck up, Kendall.”

“Y/N was helping him,” said Kendall. “Tried hiding his phone from the table.”

Logan swung his heated, intense gaze onto you. It took all you had within you not to flinch away. 

“I didn’t know what Roman was doing. I just didn’t want to get him in trouble.”

Your godfather shut his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose with two fingers. “How sweet,” he spat. “The two of you are perfect for each other. Fucking morons!”

“Dad,” said Roman, voice warbling. “I am not a moron. She isn’t, either. Y/N, tell him—tell him why you thought PGM was a bad idea.”

Everybody’s eyes were on you. Suddenly, your throat went dry, and all words flew out of your vocabulary. You shook your head, a defeated sigh falling from your lips. Roman’s shoulders drooped with the weight of shame and loss.

“How much is a gallon of milk?” Logan suddenly asked his youngest son, advancing on him until he withered beneath his father’s glare. 

“What?”

“How much is a gallon of fucking milk?”

Confused beyond his mind, Roman said, “I don’t know. I mean, who the fuck knows, Dad? Literally nobody knows! Who gives a shit?”

“Greg! How much is a gallon of milk?”

The lanky man stammered out, “Uh, I mean, like, regular milk, or—?”

Burying his face into his hands, not unlike you had done earlier, Logan sighed out, “I am surrounded by snakes and fucking morons! You’re a bunch of silk-stocking fucks! Who backs me on Pierce, huh? Who?”

When he was met by silence, Kendall answered in everyone’s stead.

“None of them do, Dad. They’re all against it. Karl’s lying, Tom’s lying, Gerri’s playing both sides, Y/N is very clearly against what you’re doing.”

Hot shame curled within your gut. Though you were steadfast in your beliefs against taking PGM, disappointing your father figure was never a pleasant sensation, no matter how terrible he was.

“Uncle Logan, I’m sorry—” you began, but he was quick to shut you down.

“Don’t go sucking my dick now, girl. It’s too fucking late. You’re lucky your brainless parents are major shareholders, or I would’ve fired you a dozen times by now. Do you know that? How fucking worthless you are?”

Tears pricked the corner of your eyes. You wrapped your arms around your stomach, training your gaze onto the ground. 

“Here’s the news,” Logan said, addressing the entire group now. “We are going after it. And what’s more… I will win.”

With that, he stormed off, disappearing somewhere in the vast house. 

“Hey,” Roman tried to speak to you, but you maneuvered away, disappearing up some stairs, where your room was waiting for you.

It took a lot of indecisive thought, but you left the door unlocked.

To none of your surprise, Roman came crawling into your room when everybody was asleep. He slipped into the empty spot beside you, slurring out a litany of nonsensical apologies mixed in with how much of an asshole Kendall was.

“You’re drunk,” you whispered, pushing his face away. You hadn’t the heart to be angry at him. Not this late at night. Not when he was just as upset as you were about what had transpired during dinner. “Go to sleep, Rome.”

“Give me a kiss g’night. And tell me you forgive me.”

“Ro—”

“Just—just fucking do it! Don’t ask me stupid questions.”

Shifting in the bed, you leaned forward to press light kisses to both his fluttering eyelids. “We’re good, Romeo. I don’t know. I’m mad at you, but not as much as I’m mad at Kendall and your dad. I’m your only friend, remember? I love you, asshole.”

“Yeah. Shut up.” His hands curled over your waist and pulled you close. “Say that again.”

There was a laugh in your voice. “What? That I’m your only friend?”

He prodded your side with a stiff finger. “The fuckin’... the love thing.”

A part of you contemplated telling him to fuck off. But the wide, warbling brown of his irises told you that he was desperate to hear it. Desperate for any crumb of affection he was offered. “Mhm. I love you, Ro. I do. Now go to sleep.”

He lazily blinked at you, as if he was a cat. “Don’t be mad if I puke all over you.”

“I won’t be mad.”

“I’d be mad if you puked all over me. Why wouldn’t you be mad at me?”

“Go to sleep, Rome.”

“Night. You smell good, you know? Like if a unicorn had sex with a bouquet of flowers.” Without warning, he sank his teeth into your neck, and you had to physically pry his teeth from your skin to keep him from using you like a chew toy.

Muffling a yawn, you murmured, “Go to sleep before I euthanize you.”

It took him another hour to finally drift off, but when he did, the two of you slept better than you had in months.

Roman was terribly hungover the next morning. Headaches and droopy lids, barely registering your voice telling him to get up. When he finally rubbed the sleep from his eyes, he noticed that you were already dressed for the day, having gotten ready while he was passed out. 

“Everyone’s waiting for you, Ro,” you gently told him, brushing his hair out of his face and then taking his hands to tug him off the bed. “Go wash up. Come on, stinker.”

He let you push him around, handing him the toothbrush and a cup of water to drink once he was done washing up. You turned to give him some privacy to change, but his fingers just couldn’t seem to button his buttons right.

“These fuckin’ things—like they’re made of soap or something—”

With a light sigh, you rotated back around. “Come here, you big baby.” You straightened out his collar before slipping the buttons through their respective holes with ease. 

“Dad’s killing me. He’s cutting my fucking balls off.”

You watched him with a sympathetic gaze. “He won’t do that. He doesn’t see you as a threat.”

“That’s not the compliment you think it is.”

“I wasn’t trying to compliment you.”

Roman watched as you fastened together the last button for him, but you didn’t step away, staying close by him.

“If I was capable of any sudden movement, I would totally pounce on you right now. I like your shirt—is that a new shirt?”

“I’ve had it for four years,” you deadpanned.

“Hm. Old shirt. You should throw it out.” To his relief, you smiled at him.

Patting his cheek once, you asked, “Are you okay? How are you holding up?”

“I don’t know. I’m fucking terrible. But I should be asking you the same. Dad took a beating on the both of us.”

Memories of last night made your nose wrinkle in distaste. 

“I think everyone was just… caught up in the heat of the moment. I don’t think your dad meant everything he said.” He did, you knew he did.

Shaking his head, Roman slunk away to go put on his shoes. “He thinks I’m a moron. The worst of his seed, or whatever the fuck. How am I supposed to get him to take me seriously? Grow a mustache and read the Journal? I’ll fucking do it.”

“Don’t grow a mustache. You’ll look like you came straight out of a shitty European porno.”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

Ignoring him, you sat down beside the disorderly man, pulling on your own dress shoes and knotting together the laces, before helping him tie his, because his fingers suddenly decided not to work this morning. “Gerri told me I should convince you to go to management training. Because, you know—tada. Your only friend is one of the company’s head managers. Lucky you.”

“What, she and Dad want you to be my teacher? Sounds like a sexual fantasy to me.”

“It probably won’t be me. Might be a lower-level manager. But I’d come to visit! Get you in the spirit of things.”

Roman snorted. “Ugh. I don’t want to go back to classes. I’ll kill myself.”

“Don’t be dramatic. Let’s at least have some breakfast first.”

A week later, Roman was enrolled into the management training program, much to Gerri’s relief. She’d thanked you for convincing him, and you told her that it barely took any effort at all. Really, he just wanted to become better in his Dad’s eyes.

You were swamped with work as usual, occasionally checking your phone to see a long strings of texts from Roman, complaining and whining about the torture they were putting him through (they made him watch a video about ethical conduct in a workplace). 

When Roman called you the first time, you declined because you were in a meeting. You declined the second time as well, because you really had to concentrate on filling out important documents. By the time your phone rang again, you were in between tasks, and picked up with a grouchy, “What, Roman?”

“Yowza, who put that stick up your ass?” his voice came through. His high pitched laughter followed. “It’s fucking hell here. I just wanted to hear your voice.”

“Sorry,” you replied, pinching your brows. “It’s been terrible up here, too. I’ve got a lot of shit on my plate. This acquisition really isn’t helping.”

“Are you coming?” he asked.

Blinking, you shifted the phone in your palm. “Coming where? To your training?”

“Well… yeah.”

“Mmh, I’m sorry, Ro. I really would, but I’m just up to my head with work. But I’m proud of you! Really, I am.”

“Oh, you are? Fuck you,” he snapped.

You took no offense to his bitterness. “Fuck you back. This is good, what you’re doing, Romeo.”

“Yeah, I know—I’m gonna grow up to be a real little boy and learn the price of an egg, and do… phone sex with my girlfriend like a normo.”

Laughing, you knocked your head back with a grin. “Y’know, phone sex is more kinky than anything. If you wanna be normal, you look her in the eyes during missionary sex and tell her you love her.”

“Pfft. Yeah, right. Do people actually do that? That sounds disgusting.”

“Yes, people actually do that. Have you ever considered that you’re the disgusting one?”

“Don’t be mean, this is my first day of training, you bitch.”

From his tone, you could tell he was smiling, too.

“Seems like you’ve been complaining to me more than actually paying attention.”

“I can’t help it. The videos are too fucking long. It’s like trying to teach Beethoven how to play hot cross buns on the piano.”

You laughed, and Roman felt a certain warmth pool in his chest.

“You can do it, Ro. I believe in you.”

“Thanks, mommy,” he teasingly replied. 

Your phone began to buzz with another call. “Ah—sorry, Rome, I gotta go. See you later, okay?”

Before he could say his grumpy goodbyes, you’d already hung up. To your surprise, your screen displayed the called ID of your godfather. Your palms suddenly grew clammy.

When you answered, his voice was soft and amicable—a stark contrast to what it was like in Hungary.

“Hello, dear. Hope you’re well.”

The rest of the call went surprisingly fine. Logan wanted you to go over to his office to run through some analytics and, apparently, he wanted to apologize to you in person. Mend the broken bridges, he had said. You weren’t entirely sure if there was another game he was playing at, but you couldn’t say no to him. He was your top boss, after all.

Just as you slipped through the glass doors with a hesitant smile, a loud bang sounded from somewhere on the floor. You flinched, eyes widening. 

A gunshot.

Terror wrapped its dark hands around you when security guards quickly took you by the arm, guiding you around bends and corners, before finally leading you into a panic room. Logan came in behind you, looking mildly distraught.

“Are you okay?” you asked, helping him sit down and giving him a loose hug. 

“Fine, fine. Where’s Siobhan? Kendall?”

“I don’t… I don’t know.”

When you felt down your pants for your phone, you let out a frustrated sigh when you couldn’t find it anywhere on you. You must’ve dropped it during all the commotion to get to the safe room. You settled into a seat across from Logan, watching the news on the television, your leg bouncing up and down with agitation. 

A few minutes later, Shiv showed up, embracing her dad with a chaste kiss. She gave you a hug as well, cheek pressing against yours. 

“Do you know what’s going on?”

“No, I don’t. Where’s Tom?”

She pulled away to call her husband, and you slumped back into your chair. 

Down on ground level, Roman was still in his training class, watching his partner begin to present his idea for a new ride, when a man burst through the doors, calling out Mr. Roy!

Well, there goes his chance to pretend to be a normo.

“Just in case you get a news alert on your phone, there’s been an incident at ATN.”

Roman’s brows quirked downwards. “Is my dad okay?”

“It’s been suggested that it could be a concerted attack against the family. Do you want us to take you to a more secure location?”

“Yeah, of course I want that—get me the fuck out of here!” The guard began ushering him out of the class, down the hall to a more ‘secure’ space, which was clearly just an inventory room. “So, uh, does an attack against the family include, like, godchildren, too? Or just, uh, direct blood-related shit?”

“I don’t know yet, sir. All we know so far is that there was a gunshot in the building.”

Panic began to settle in Roman’s chest. He fished out his phone from his pants and called you. No answer.

He texted you, over and over again.

Hey Fuckface You heard about this shooting bullshit? I thought they only went for schools nowadays. Answer me Bitch Right fucking now Can you pick up? Hello  Helloooooooooo 🖕 Hahaha funny joke! Now fucking pick up

It didn’t quite occur to Roman that he should probably call his siblings just yet. He was far too caught up with the idea of you lying on the ground somewhere, bleeding out to death. Certainly not a pleasant thought.

He called you again, and nearly threw his phone across the inventory—safe room when you didn’t pick up.

What the fuck Please answer me it’s not funny anymore If you’re dead I’ll kill you I’m being serious Hello? Please answer You can’t be dead it’s literally not possible

He called a third time, and there was no response. Growing increasingly worried, Roman finally called his twin sister, who responded after the second ring.

“Hey, Rome. You okay?”

“Yeah, whatever. Is Y/N okay?” he hurriedly asked, itching at the back of his neck.

“She’s fine. Here with me in the safe room. I’m fine too, by the way. Thanks for asking.”

“Fuck off, just put me on the phone with her!” 

A second later, your voice came through, and Roman nearly melted onto the floor in relief.

“Hello? Rome? Are you okay?”

“You fucking bitch! What the fuck is wrong with you? I thought you were fucking dead! Why didn’t you answer any of my texts?”

If not for the situation at hand, you would’ve laughed at how worked up he sounded. “I lost my phone when the gunshot sounded out. Sorry, Ro. It happened so quickly. They’re saying it was a suicide. But I’m not really sure—Gerri’s filling me in.”

“So you’re, like, okay? Actually okay?”

“I’m okay.”

“Ugh, fuck you. Go to hell!” he barked into the phone, right before hanging up. 

You stood, still stunned, handing Shiv’s phone back to her with a quiet word of thanks. 

Curled up in the corner of the inventory room, Roman found out that he and Brian had won for best pitch for a ride in the class. He smiled a little, then followed out after his partner to make sure that he wasn’t fibbing.

“I slaughtered them, you know? Everyone in that fucking training class grovels at my feet now,” Roman told Tabitha on the phone. “They’re jealous! And that’s all there is to it. Anyways, um, how are you?”

“Good!” she told him. “I’m about to get in the bath.”

“Oh, yeah?” Roman took a long pause. “Uh, y’know, Y/N told me that phone sex is kinda… kinky. You wanna…?”

On the other side of the line, Tabitha smiled, putting her phone on speaker. “Mmh, alright. I’m making the bath real sudsy.”

“Is that because you’re dirty?”

“I am. I’m a dirty, dirty girl.”

“Yeah, you are. And I would love to fuck you.”

She laughed, light and airy. “I’m so wet for you right now.”

A long pause. Roman winced. “Uh, that’s not… well, you don’t have to be so specific.”

“I’m… being sexy?”

“Yeah, it’s just—could you not do that thing? With your voice? It’s, like, breathy and unnatural.”

Sucking in a frustrated lungful of air, Tabitha shook her head. “That’s what I sound like when I’m turned on, Roman.”

“I know, I just… I don’t like it, so—” He made his way to the bed and laid down. “Let’s just be normal. Let’s be normal. Casual.”

“Normal? Okay, I was just trying to get into it but…”

“No, I’m sorry, yeah, you’re right.” He cleared his throat, trying to lower his voice. “Um, I’m fucking you in the pussy. I’m fucking you hard.”

Tabitha pursed her lips. “Amazing. What are you gonna do next, change your water filter cartridge?”

Rolling his eyes, Roman sighed out, exasperated, “Jesus fucking Christ—oh, look at that, I’m coming! I’m coming! Ah, wow, I came! Thank you! Hooray! Bye.”

Abruptly, he hung up, not unsimilar to what he did to you earlier to you in the day. Guilt suddenly flushed through him—he probably should give you a call. Say he’s sorry.

It only took one ring for you to pick up, and he could tell that you were smiling on the other end. “Hey, Romeo. Didn’t think you had the emotional capacity to talk to me after thinking I was dead.”

Roman rubbed his left eye. “Fuck you. So are you, uh, okay?”

“You already asked me that, Rome.”

“No, like—mentally or whatever. Must’ve been scary. Ooh.” He made a ghost-esque noise, but cringed upon realizing that that probably wasn’t appropriate.

Nonetheless, you scoffed through the phone. “It was jarring, but I’ll be okay. How’d training go?”

“I mean, it’s fuckin’ bullshit but I won the stupid ride pitch thing. They should have it built.”

There was some rustling of sheets. Roman wondered if you were clambering into bed. He wondered what you were wearing. 

“You really think they’ll build you the ride after your first day in management training? Don’t be stupid.”

“I’ve got money. They’ll build whatever I want them to fuckin’ build.”

“You know who you sound like? Like Joffrey Baratheon, from that show I made you watch. The one you never paid attention to unless there was a pair of tits on screen. Spoiled little shits, the both of you.” 

With an affronted gasp, he said, “You can’t talk to me like that. I’m technically your boss.”

You giggled. “Don’t pull the boss card on me, Roman. You’ve slept in my bed more times than in your own. That’s fucking… that’s like power play, right there.”

“Yeah?” Roman could feel a rush of blood go straight to his dick, which began to strain against his pants. “D’you think we’d get in trouble if we ever…”

There was a long moment of silence. Static filled in Roman’s ears.

“If we what, Roman?” you asked, voice quiet. 

Clicking his tongue to the roof of his mouth, Roman blurted out, “I tried the fuckin’ normie phone sex with Tabitha.”

“And?”

“She got turned on.”

“Uh, congratulations?”

“I didn’t like it.”

“Oh. Why not? You like your sex dirtier? Wrong?” You began to chuckle, but it tapered away when Roman went silent on the other end of the phone. More rustling blankets. “Oh, fuck, Roman. You’re an idiot, you know that?”

You could hear the sound of his belt unbuckling. 

“What else am I?” His voice was breathy. Whiny, almost.

“This is wrong, Romeo. I can’t… you’re dating Tabitha, remember?”

“Just keep—keep talking.” When his hand wrapped around his hard dick, weeping with pearly precum, Roman wondered if he’d bust his nut right then and there.

After a few seconds of silence, you tentatively continued, “You’re disgusting, Rome. What’s wrong with you? Touching yourself to my voice when your girlfriend was left high and dry for you.”

He began to stroke himself, eyes fluttering shut. A strained moan fell from his lips. Neither of you had ever ventured this into this territory in your relationship before. Sure, sexual jokes were always passed back and forth between the two of you but this was—this was real. Wasn’t it?

“Mmh, I don’t want you to cum yet, Ro.” You clutched the phone close to your ear. 

A choked noise emitted from his throat. “I can’t—I can’t hold it—”

“Hold it.”

“Why?”

“Because I want to cum with you.” More rustling on the other end as you kicked your pants and underwear down, dragging your finger around your clit. 

This seemed to send Roman into another fit of whines—the thought of you fucking yourself on your own fingers to him made his mind go all hazy. 

“Romey, tell me,” you whispered. “Out of all those times we slept in the same bed together—did you ever imagine fucking me while I was asleep? Like a sick little pervert?”

A groan climbed up the back of Roman’s throat. His pace slowed down, trying his best not to cum prematurely. “Yes, all the fucking time. Yes—” His words died on his tongue as he moaned again, and again, and again—

“God, Ro.” You stifled a gasp when you plunged two fingers into your throbbing cunt. It’d been a long while since you’d had the time to touch yourself—it was no surprise that you were already on the brink of an orgasm. “Have you touched yourself to me before? I’m sure you have. You sick fuck.”

The vein in Roman’s forehead popped as he bucked his hips into his fist. “Fuck, yes! Yes, please, Y/N, please—”

“Please, what?” You moaned yourself, grinding into your palm. “You wanna cum, baby? I wanna hear you make a mess of yourself. Like the dirty fucking pervert you are.”

With those words, Roman toppled off the edge, spurts of warm cum dribbling from his throbbing cock, soaking his fist with its sticky mess. He fucked himself through his high, whining with overstimulation at the sound of your own choked sighs.

Breathily, he whimpered, “What else? Please, what else? What would you do if you were here with me?”

“Mmh, if I was there, I’d make you lick your cum off of me. I’d ride your face until you pass out—oh!”

A creak of the bed as you arched your back, crying out his name, cresting over the peak yourself. 

More silence. Labored breaths.

You swallowed heavily, skin glowing with a faint sheen of sweat. The haze of your orgasm was beginning to dissipate, and you were coming back to your own senses. “Fuck—I’m sorry, Ro. I don’t... I don’t think we should’ve done that.”

He blew out a shuddering breath. “Yeah, we shouldn’t have.” His chest rose and fell unevenly. “But it was fucking amazing.”

“It was.” You ran your tongue along your teeth in thought. “I’m gonna go, uhm, clean myself up, Ro. G’night.”

“Mmh. Night.”

“This doesn’t change anything, right? We’re still best friends?”

Roman screwed his lips up to the side. “Yeah. Fuck, yeah. Totally. BFFs for liferz, or whatever cheesy fucking bullshit you need to hear.”

You scoffed. Things would be okay with the two of you. They always worked out in the end. “See you soon, slut.”

“Hey, Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Romeo.”

“Mmkay, bye, fuck-face.” 

With that, the call ended.

Weeks later, the Roy family was to spend the weekend with the Pierces at their family estate. You figured the reason why Logan had called you to his office right before the suicide was because he wanted you to come along and play mediator—the Pierces were a rather articulate and fanciful family. According to your godfather, they aligned much more with your and Shiv’s politics than his. It reminded you how you were nothing but a pawn on the chessboard for him to maneuver. 

Regardless, you knew you couldn’t say no. Even though he knew you didn’t support the Pierce acquisition, you were a valuable asset and that could potentially be beneficial for both parties. Besides, the Pierces were a powerful family. Having them as allies would be good for you.

You were lounging on the couch beside Shiv and Tabitha when Roman strode into his father’s house, bowing down dramatically.

“How was summer camp?” she teased her twin. 

“Hm? What’s that? Didn’t catch what you said. I’ve been down in the salt mines for so long with my fellow Johnny Lunchpails, I no longer speak One-Percent,” he said when he bent down to kiss Tab’s cheek.

Snorting, Shiv retorted, “You were slinging candy apples, Rome, not digging the Panama Canal.”

“I’ve seen the world for how it really is, Siobhan, and it has changed me! I’m a kettle corn shoveler, here to show you frilly clit-flickers the truth. Hullo, Y/N. You look lovely.” He patted your cheek thrice, and you swatted his hand away before the fourth. A part of you had been worrying for the past few days about your relationship with Roman. Would things change after what had happened over the phone? Or was it all just… no big deal?

To your relief, the two of you seemed to be just the same as before. 

“Hey, Rome. Nice to see you’ve been so… humbled. Tell me, if I were to ask you to do my laundry, would you know how?”

Tabitha cracked up at your words and she nudged at your knee humorously. 

Roman rolled his eyes, muttering something about how he wouldn’t want to touch your tighty whities anyway, and scuttled off to greet Marcia and Connor. Only then did Logan come in, Kendall in tow. His little meat puppet.

“Alright. Cars are waiting—but first, some announcements. Frank, if you wouldn’t mind?”

Logan’s right-hand man stepped forward to address the group. “As you all know, the good news is that the Pierces are entertaining our offer, but bad news—they’re inquiring about your moral character, hence this weekend.”

“They want to look us in the teeth,” gruffed Logan.

Frank nodded. “Right. They want our 24 billion, but they also want to be able to ensure the integrity of their news outlets into the future.”

“Mmh, to ensure everything goes smoothly, we’ve prepared a few do’s and don’ts for the weekend,” said Gerri, pointedly staring at Roman. “Topics to stay clear of: Ravenhead, ATN, Israel, Brightstar, and the Cruise’s rumor mill. Steer onto: gossip, investments, art, movies, literature… tittle-tattle. Wider cultural interests.”

“Oh, and two drinks maximum,” Frank added. “They’re not big drinkers.”

Tilting his head, Roman drawled, “That’s okay. Nobody here has any glaring substance abuse issues that almost brought down the company, right?” He lolled his head over to Kendall, shooting him a wink.

Logan went through a few more details about Tom and ATN and Rhea, which certainly raised a few apprehensions. 

“Thanks for all your help,” said Logan. For a moment, his eyes landed on you. You wondered if he had considered that you’d purposefully sabotage this weekend to stop the deal from going through. Or maybe he knew you were his loyal lapdog, no matter how far he kicked you. Or maybe he simply wanted you there for diversity points. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time. “We need this. Bagging Pierce is the key to our proxy defense. And the defense is life itself. See you at Plymouth Rock.”

Once the helicopters landed onto Pierce's land and everyone was filed out into the vast green fields, Logan turned to his group and gestured for them to smile. He’d even gone out of his way to brush a stray piece of lint off of your coat for you whilst passing by. 

“I am smiling!” Roman haughtily protested when his father gave him a pointed glare.

“Yeah, not like a pervert,” said Shiv.

You grinned, laughing out, “That’s just how he looks, Shiv.”

“Hardee-har-har,” Roman spat out. Then, he watched as Logan linked arms with both Marcia and Shiv. “Wow, Jesus. Look at Papa Smurf. Should I be doing that with you guys?”

Both you and Tabitha glanced at each other, before walking onwards, flat out ignoring Roman. 

The Pierce family was waiting not too far from the helicopters, greeting everyone with apprehensive yet kind smiles. 

The woman who spoke had soft eyes and a round face. Not at all intimidating in stature, but you knew better than to judge a book by its cover. “Welcome to Ternhaven! Our city on the hill. I’m Nan Pierce—it’s nice to meet all of you. I think we’re going to have fun getting a look at all of you, won’t we?”

Both families drew nearer as everybody exchanged polite greetings. You shook hands with about half a dozen people, trying your best to keep up with names and faces. Once at the estate, someone had taken off your coat and offered you a glass of water before you’d even taken three steps inside. 

It was certainly a beautiful home. It felt more lived-in than Logan’s houses, with its abundance of paintings and framed pictures on the walls. The furniture was warmer and cozier—a stark contrast to Logan’s preference for sharp edges and monochrome colors.

Roman came up to your side and pointed at a Latin phrase inscribed into the archway. 

“In veritate triumpho,” he read aloud. “This wine is triumphant? No—your vagina trumpets!”

Passing by, Gerri sharply hushed him just as your shoulders began to shake with mirth.

“I triumph in the truth,” you told him. 

“Honesty is the best policy around here,” said a dark-haired man, appearing from seemingly nowhere. You heard Roman mutter Jesus H. Christ, beneath his breath, but you discreetly pinched his side before he could say anything else. You faintly recognized the man as Peter Pierce—a cousin of Nan. He’d been overly enthusiastic with his handshake, watching you with gleaming curiosity, complimenting you on your outfit. 

You weren’t blind. You knew attraction when you saw it—and Peter wasn’t doing a very good job of hiding it.

“So… where’d you learn Latin?”

“Self taught,” you told him, smiling politely. “I’m not fluent. I just know a few bits and bobs here and there. Tried to learn during my college years.”

Before Peter could respond, Roman motioned gagging. “Barf. I’m gonna go see who Tabs is flirting with. See you nerds later.”

He slipped away, leaving you alone with Peter, much to your chagrin. 

The man was nice enough, sure, but he was being very obvious with the way his gaze lingered a tad too long on your chest. And when it wasn’t there, he was ogling your lips. It was a bit unnerving. 

“I’ve heard a lot about you, you know,” said Peter, arms crossed. 

“And I know next to nothing about you,” you airily responded, trying your best to keep your smile natural, though it proved increasingly difficult with each passing second.

“Well, that can be remedied, no?” he asked. 

You internally cursed at his forwardness. “Sure, yeah. Sounds great.”

And off he chattered, prattling on about his time with his company and what he studied during university, occasionally asking for your experiences as well. You only paid him half a mind, keeping the other occupied with observations of everybody else in the room. How Shiv had somehow managed to insult someone already, how Connor was talking about his presidential campaign with someone who so clearly didn’t agree with his views, and how Roman was guffawing at something Naomi and Tabitha were discussing.

“And what about the tabloids on you?”

“I’m sorry?” you asked, snapping your attention back onto Peter. 

“The tabloids about you and Roman. A lot of them discuss the two of you as a pair.”

Shrugging one of your shoulders, you shook your head. “Those are just baseless rumors.” You thought back to how you and Roman jerked off to each other through the phone. Not baseless at all, it seemed. “Roman and I are friends.”

“That’s good to hear.”

“Oh, yeah? Why’s that?”

Peter smiled. A part of you felt bad for stringing him along in such a way. He seemed like a nice enough guy, if you didn’t count all the uncomfortable ogling. “I just feel like we have a connection, you know? Do you feel it, too?”

“Mmh. Yeah, I’m feeling it.” You chanced a glance to Roman, who was staring straight at you with an impish grin. He saw right through your little facade—he knew you were miserable, and he was enjoying the shit out of it.

“That’s so good to hear. I knew you were different the moment I set eyes on you.”

“Wow. You really do have a way with words. Edgar Allen Poe up in here,” you joked loosely, trying your best not to sound deadpan. 

“You like Edgar Allen Poe, too? God, you’re like—fricking perfect for me. Excuse my French.” To your horror, Peter reached out to clasp your shoulder, steering you to a more quiet part of the room. “Tell me more about yourself. Things I don’t already know from the tabloids. What was it like growing up around the Roys?”

They were more of your family than your actual parents. They were the bane of your existence. They were everything to you. 

Before you could vocalize any of your thoughts (or, some poor, watered-down rendition of them), Logan shepherded the Waystar side of the group into another room for a short, private talk. You let out a long sigh as soon as you were far away enough from Peter, feeling your muscles loosen up. God, that man really did make you stiff in all the worst ways. 

“I think it’s going pretty well,” Roman said once everyone began filing through the door. “I mean, nobody’s fucked Nan or killed her cat by accident, so I think we’re doing pretty good.”

It seemed Logan didn’t quite agree, because he stormed up to his daughter, angrily demanding, “What the fuck did you say to Mark? Making cracks about his PhD?”

“It was a joke! He laughed.”

Frowning, Logan continued on, “He’s a yes, Shiv. He’s solid. Why are you even bothering him?”

The group began to then argue about Maxim, who Connor was supposed to persuade into the yes territory of the acquisition—which he was clearly failing.

“Cut the horseshit, know your roles!” barked your godfather. “Shiv, I want you on Nan.”

“Okay, Dad, we don’t have to be so schematic,” she protested, but her words went largely ignored.

Logan rounded on Roman, standing beside you. “Romulus. When you laugh, please do it at the same volume as everyone else. We didn’t get you from a hyena farm.”

“Thanks, Pop,” said Roman. You frowned, rubbing his shoulder comfortingly.

“The good news is that Nan seems to be spending money in her head—but she could still be swayed by her family, so every cousin counts,” Gerri added.

“Everybody, stay in your lanes. Who’s on Peter?” asked Logan.

“I got it, Dad,” said Kendall.

Quirking a brow, Frank said, “Actually, Peter seems to be rather taken by Y/N. I think it’s a good idea for her to keep him entertained. He’s worried the rest of us are barbarians.”

You crossed your arms uncomfortably, but nodded with a tight-lipped smile. “Yeah, uh, sure.”

“Pimp her out, why don’t you,” scoffed Roman. 

“Good. Everyone got their person? Let’s go, people. Stay focused, stay sharp!” barked Logan, and everyone began to pour out of the room at his dismissal. 

Roman clapped a hand on your forearm. “Hey, uh, if Prickly Pete there does anything—” He made an unintelligible noise while pulling a sour face. “You know the drill. Stop, drop, and roll.”

“That’s for a fire, Ro.”

“Yeah, but it’ll freak him out enough to leave you alone.”

You spared him a sarcastic smile, shaking your head. “Great advice. Thanks.”

“No, but seriously—just say you have to go to the bathroom or something. I’ll be keeping an eye on you.”

“Okay, Sauron,” you chuckled, shoving him away. “Go. Go and use your wily charms to seduce Naomi into making a terrible decision.”

It was his turn to offer you a lopsided grin. “That’s what I’m best at. Influencing women into years of regret.” With a click of his tongue and a wink, he was off.

 When you turned around, Peter was already waiting for you with an expectant expression. Ugh.

This was going to be a long weekend.

The Pierces were a strange family. Who the fuck recited poetry as grace before dinner? Nonetheless, you clapped with a polite smile once Naomi was done with her little poem. Roman rolled his eyes none too discreetly and you kicked at his leg beneath the table. 

On your other side, Peter didn’t hesitate to dive into yet another lengthy conversation once everybody began eating. 

“I like to have three novels and a memoir going at once,” said the man with a flirtatious smile. “It’s like natural selection.”

You forced a laugh—one that sounded genuine to everyone but the Roys, who knew you well enough by now to know that you weren’t amused at all. 

“Hm. I think it’s rather redundant to pit literature against each other in such a competitive fashion. Art is art is art, no?” you responded, quirking a brow as you forked a portion of salad onto your plate. 

You’d hoped that your comment would deter Peter from talking more, but your challenge seemed to only invigorate him. 

“A bit of healthy competition in a given field never hurt anyone. Pushes people to create better things,” he said, leaning closer to you.

“Mm, well, respectfully, I disagree. I think art—literature, especially—can blossom organically, just for the sake of it. The idea that creativity flourishes under competition is, frankly, just capitalist propaganda,” you said. 

To your dismay, Peter tilted his head and quipped, “Isn’t that a bit ironic, coming from you? Goddaughter of one of the richest men in the world?”

Your eye twitched. Beneath the table, Roman nudged your foot. 

“It doesn’t matter who I am. My point still stands, no?”

“I suppose we can just agree to disagree. I still enjoy reading several pieces at once… maximum efficiency, right?”

Another fake laugh.

To your surprise, Roman swooped into the conversation, “Yeah, I hear you, brother!” he chirped, trying his best to sound like an intellectual normie—he wasn’t doing a very good job, so far.

Peter spared him a glance, which made him lean even closer to you. “Are you a big reader?”

“Me? Oh. Yeah, big time.” No, he wasn’t. Roman couldn’t even remember the last time he picked up a book and read past the first page. 

“Can you recommend anything Oprah isn’t pushing? Any new fiction?”

For a moment, Roman’s panicked eyes met your goading ones. He began to laugh, but cleared his throat when he realized that Peter was genuinely asking. 

“Oh, right, yeah, sure I can… I, uh, rather enjoyed The Electric Circus.” 

“The Electric Circus?” echoed Peter in a rather pretentious manner. “Who’s the author?”

“Oh, uh, shit! Who was it… it was uh, Timothy Lipton. Yup. That’s him.” Roman was a terrible liar. You were getting second-hand embarrassment just listening to him. 

Catching wind of her brother fumbling, Shiv asked, “Yeah? What’s it about, Rome?”

“Uh, it is… about a young man making his way through the world. Except in two different time periods, so it kinda switches back and forth between—uh, yup! And—and the circus part is like, you know, a metaphor.”

Shiv narrowed her eyes. “For what?”

“Ugh. For the anxiety of modern life, Siobhan.” Roman only ever called his sister that when he tried to provoke her, or when he was exasperated with her antics. “Ask Y/N. She read the book. Ask her.”

Incredulous, you swung your gaze from your food to him, brows pulling together.

“You’ve read The Electric Circus?” asked Peter. His phone was in his palms. “I’m not seeing it on Google… Are you sure that’s what it was called?”

You began to fumble with your words, internally cursing Roman for throwing you under the bus, as well. God, he was going to owe you a million favors from now on. 

“See, uhm, it was a private little thing, uh—it hasn’t been published yet, exactly. Roman and I were just, you know, we were given the pages because we, uh, we were thinking of funding the novel ourselves! So, yeah… I don’t know why Roman would go and recommend that to you when it isn’t even available to the public yet.” You spared Peter a sweet smile whilst simultaneously stomping on Roman’s toes beneath the table. He retaliated by pinching your thigh.

“Oh. I see. Maybe when it comes out we can talk about it over a cup of coffee, then.”

Roman snorted. You sent him a half-hearted glare.

“Sure. That’d be great,” you told him before the man-child on your other side could come up with a rude retort.

Thankfully, Peter was quick to move on to another topic. Something about how mediocre the movies have been getting as of late. What an asshole. 

The conversation was cut off not too soon later by the white nationalist elephant in the room, as Rhea had so eloquently put it—ATN. Logan had vehemently denied sharing their fascistic beliefs, though the Pierces were clearly still skeptical of your godfather. Hell, even you were. 

There was more tense silence when Logan was questioned on whether or not Tom would stay on as head of ATN. The matter was never resolved, as he excused himself with a lame excuse of his sick dog having arthritis, pulling Shiv out of the room with him. 

You and Roman exchanged confused looks. 

By the time they came back, Tabitha was telling one of the Pierces about her willingness to help out her friend. “I’m thinking, like, if they can’t have a baby in six months, I’m just going to offer them my womb. Why not, you know? I’m young, I’m hardy.”

“Wow, Tabs, that’s really nice of you,” you told her genuinely, sipping on some water.

“Good for you,” agreed Marnie Pierce. “I had a friend who did that, it was so great—”

And then there Peter went, butting his fat head into the conversation where it was clearly not needed. “Uh, but if it isn’t too rude of me to ask, what about you two?” He gestured to Roman and Tabitha.

The blonde woman chuckled. “Oh, you mean us planning to have a baby? No, we’re not planning for a baby, because that would require us having sex!”

“Woah!” exclaimed Roman. “Hey, now.”

Peter grimaced. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.”

“Yes, you did,” said Marnie, and Peter only shrugged sheepishly.

“No, no, no, it’s totally fine, it’s just not our thing,” Tabitha replied. “We’re kinda like eunuch besties. It works for us.”

Scratching the back of his head, Roman cleared his throat. “She’s joking. Obviously. She’s kidding. We’re actually quite relentless in that regard. Just… fuck city out here.” 

You almost choked on the water you’d been sipping, the memories of a certain call you had with Roman resurfacing to the forefront of your mind. 

“You okay, Y/N?” Peter asked, lightly patting your back. 

“Fine. Just down the wrong pipe,” you winced. “And, you know, the idea of Roman and Tabs going to pound town doesn’t exactly whet my appetite.”

“Oh, don’t be jealous,” said Roman. “It’s unbecoming.”

Before you could snip back, the table fell quiet when Nan Pierce asked who would be taking on the company after Logan. Your godfather purposefully skirted around the topic, evading a solid name entirely.

Then, Shiv made the terrible mistake of announcing herself as the next CEO.

“Wait, uh, what’s happening?” Peter queried.

“Mmh. I think my life just ended,” Roman responded, looking every bit as shocked as you.

More flubbering from both Logan and Shiv. They were fucking themselves over, you could just feel it.

“You know what, maybe this dinner was a little bit premature. Seems like you guys are still working some things out,” said Peter. 

“No, uh, this is just some family hijinks,” Kendall tried to protest.

Marcia leaned in closer to Logan to ask, “Is this true?”

That seemed to be the last straw for him, because he yelled out, “Will you stop?”

More tense silence. Your foot rested over Roman’s, which was bouncing up and down rapidly beneath your heel. His hand rested on your knee, gripping a tad too tight.

“Well. I was just thinking that it’s such a beautiful, clear night out. Mark—would you like to guide us on a little after-dinner stargaze?” Nan asked.

And with that, came the end of the dinner.

“Did you guys know?” Tabitha asked both you and Roman as the three of you pushed away from the table to head outside. 

“No. No, I didn’t,” said Roman, still in shock.

You had a feeling, sure—there was no way it’d be Connor. Not Kendall, because of his recent endeavors with trying to take over the company, along with his substance abuse. It was between Roman and Shiv, and it didn’t take a genius to see that Logan didn’t think his youngest son was all that competent. That left only Shiv, after all.

“I didn’t know,” you simply said. 

The three of you strode out, leaving only Shiv and Logan left in the dining room.

“Those stars were really nice,” Tabitha said, lounging on the bed as Roman aggressively rummaged through the luggage in search of his toothbrush.

He was growing increasingly agitated about the idea of Shiv taking over the company, channeling his frustrations out on the poor suitcase for not presenting him his toothbrush on a golden pedestal. With a groan and a hand carding through his hair, Roman kicked at its side, sending the bag skidding against the wall.

“Ro,” Tabitha called. “I have a meeting on Monday, and I’d really love to deal with your neuroses and talk about it and everything but, uh, if you’re gonna lose your mind in here, I might just see if Naomi would let me crash in her bed.”

The man pulled on his face. He hummed once, then twice, as if he was deliberating over something.

“Alright,” he said. “Let’s fuck.”

A disbelieving smile danced across her face. She thought he was full of shit. “Yeah, totally. We do the sex so well, so that’s a brilliant idea.”

Clenching his jaw, Roman clambered onto the bed. “Alright. Come on. Come here, you hot fucking piece of shit.”

He tried kissing her, but his nose knocked into hers the wrong way, his hand gripped at her shoulder at an awkward angle, and his lips fell onto only the upper corner of her mouth, barely even counting as a kiss. 

“Woah, easy there, wolfman!” She burst into a fit of laughter, and Roman pulled away with a string of insecure apologies, rubbing at the bridge of his nose, which throbbed from the impact. 

“That was awesome,” he bit out, lying face-down on the bed next to her. “I’m so fucking good at this. Sorry.”

“Yeah, you were, like, squeezing my shoulder really fucking hard—”

“Wasn’t that sexy? How I just took you? Bet you orgasmed like five times in a row.” Roman rubbed at his eyes. “Do you want to, though? Like actually?”

She smiled. “Mmkay. Do I want to…? Make love?”

He frowned. “Nope. Wow. I just—” A groan and a sigh.

Features softening, Tabitha reached out to rub at Roman’s back. “Hey. I’m not… uninterested in solving you.”

Roman turned to face her. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you think we can make it, like… I don’t know… wrong?”

Tabitha was supposed to be dead. Which—and Roman thought this was quite obvious—meant that she wasn’t supposed to be wet. Now, there were a million and one ways for them to have sex and have it be wrong (like how it felt with you, maybe), but he’d suggested for her to play dead because… well, because he didn’t want it to feel like he was having sex with her. 

The very thought of fucking Tabitha didn’t sit quite right with him. He liked her a lot, and she was fucking hot as shit, but Roman just… couldn’t. He just couldn’t! Maybe she was right. Maybe they were better off as eunuch besties.

And so it came as no shock to both parties when the dead woman sex didn’t end up working out. Tabitha murmured that the morgue was closing for the night—and that she’d go wank off in the bathroom with her electric toothbrush as a makeshift vibrator. Roman apologized to her again, and curled up in the middle of the bed.

What was wrong with him? Why couldn’t he have sex with his girlfriend, like any other fucking person would?

After five minutes of wallowing in his own shame, Roman dragged himself off the bed and did what he knew how to do best: he ran straight to you.

When there was a knock at your door, you were ninety percent sure it was Roman. The other, more terrified, ten percent anxiously wondered if it was Sleazy Pete coming to talk your ear off some more about the latest developments in artificial intelligence. 

To your relief, it was Roman, clad in a loose white shirt and soft, dark pants. 

“Hey, Romeo,” you greeted, pulling him in and glancing out the hallway, making sure nobody was around to see. “Man, am I glad to see you. I was really scared you were somebody else.”

He made a high-pitched, humorous noise, crossing his arms as you softly shut the door closed. “Peter? Oh, no. He’s too high and mighty to come chasing after you so early. He’s the kind to date the same person for ten years, accidentally cum inside one time and knock them up, which then keeps them chained to his side for the rest of his life. You’re good for now.”

“For now?” You were ready to make another quippy retort, when you noticed the way Roman scuffed his bare feet into the carpet, hand scratching at the back of his head. Something was bugging him. “What’s going on? What happened?”

“Huh? Nothing happened. Fuck off.”

Biting at the inside of your cheek, you reached out to him, holding both his hands within yours. “Rome.”

He parroted your name in an equally emphatic manner. 

You sat down on the bed, steering him to sit beside you. “Is this about Shiv?”

Oh. Right. He’d been so caught up with his guilt and shame over Tabitha that he’d momentarily forgotten about that other part of his life that was just majorly fucked over. 

Roman shrugged. “She fucked up bad, huh?”

You laid down, which prompted him to follow you, his head leaning on your shoulder. The two of you stared up at the ceiling together. 

“We all make mistakes. I think your dad probably led her on with a carrot painted with faux gold. Wouldn’t be the first time.”

Your long-time friend made a noise of agreement. 

Comfortable silence stretched thinly between the two of you. Roman faintly noticed that your hair was damp—you’d probably taken a shower after the walk. After inhaling sharply, he caught a whiff of your body spray: sweeter than fucking cotton candy and it almost made him want to puke. Key word being almost—Roman rather liked the smell. Especially on you.

“You smell good.”

“Mmh. Thanks.”

You arched your back, bones popping with your movement as you mumbled under your breath sleepily. Something within Roman stirred. 

“I tried to have sex with Tabitha.”

Suddenly, you weren’t all that sleepy anymore. “Oh? How’d it go?”

“I…” Roman winced. Saying it out loud made it sound so much worse, for some reason. “I pretended she was dead.”

“What?” There was a mildly shocked laugh to your tone.

“Consensually!” he vehemently tacked on. “But, you know, she was fuckin’ dripping for me, so… took the experience away, I guess. I don’t know. I like her a lot. I just don’t… I don’t…”

“You don’t want to have sex with her?”

Another shrug. Roman blew out a drawn-out exhale. “Yeah. I dunno.”

“That’s okay, Rome. You don’t need to have sex if you don’t want to, and you shouldn’t feel bad about not wanting it. That’s literally the definition of consent.”

A part of Roman seemed to melt with your words. Your affirmation that there wasn’t something wrong with him (or, at least that one trait of his, he knew there were several other parts of him that you’d consider highly immoral) relieved him more than he’d care to admit.

“Well… I do want it. I just don’t want it with her, maybe?” His voice went all soft yet high-pitched at the end of the question.

Suddenly, you turned your head to him, your nose only a hair’s breadth away from his. 

“Well, Ro,” you began, husky and low, “who would you want it with?”

He didn’t need to say it. You knew already.

“Who do you want to touch you?” you murmured, hand reaching out to skim over his chest, his stomach, grazing over the very top of his pants and toying with the band of his boxers. “Who do you want to make you feel good, Romeo?”

A low whine caught within his throat when you leaned forward to kiss up the column of his throat, nipping at the skin lightly. All of his sanity seemed to fly straight out the window when your hand dipped within his boxer, tugging out his semi-hard cock, languidly stroking along the length. He moaned, chest rumbling with the sound.

Your eyelids hung low as you nosed along his jaw, which strained with how hard he was clenching his teeth. “Mmh, you’re a dirty little pervert, aren’t you? Sneaking away from your girlfriend to rut your pretty cock against me. You’re a mess and I’ve barely even touched you, Rome.”

It’d been so long. So fucking long since someone touched him this way. Since he’d let someone touch him like this. Since he wanted someone to touch him like this. It was all you. Just you, and only you.

And so, it was no wonder that he was nearing his orgasm already, twitching within your grasp as he whined louder. He murmured unintelligibly, pleading for something he didn’t yet know. 

“Can you be a good boy and cum for me?” you susurrated, planting kisses over his jaw, his cheek, the bridge of his nose. You didn’t dare kiss him on the lips—you weren’t quite sure if that would be too far for your peculiar relationship. 

When he came, a loud groan erupted from his throat, which was quickly muffled when you clapped a palm over his mouth, his eyes flew open to meet yours, pupils fully blown, almost eclipsing the molten brown of his irises. You stroked him through his orgasm, murmuring a mixture of degradations and praises all the way.

You pulled back when he began to jerk his hips away with overstimulation, panting against your palm. The sticky spend on your hand glistened beneath the lamp’s warm-hued light, and you brought it up to your face to kitten-lick his cum off his fingers, humming in satisfaction. The sight nearly made Roman pass out. He swallowed hard, propping himself up on the bed on an elbow.

Voice hoarse, he croaked out, “Thanks. Do you, uh… do you need…”

Yes. You wanted it so badly—you wanted him. 

But you knew Roman wasn’t really in the right mindspace to reciprocate anything at the moment. And the guilt that weighed heavy in your stomach would’ve only been worsened if you’d pressured him into anything that he might’ve been uncomfortable with. 

Baby steps. The two of you had been taking baby steps in your relationship ever since you were, well… babies.

“I’m fine, Rome,” you told him, ignoring the drenched throbbing between your thighs and crawling up next to him to lay down. “You can repay me in the future.”

The haze from his orgasm was beginning to clear away. Roman’s nose buried into your sweet-smelling hair. “With, like, a fuckin’ Baskin Robbins coupon or my tongue up your vagina?”

A soft laugh and a shake of your head. “Both sound wonderful,” you told him, curling up into his warmth. A wave of sleepiness overtook you. It’d been a really long day. “Night, Rome.”

“Night, fuck-face.” 

You might’ve simply hallucinated it in your sleep-addled mind, but you could feel a faint brush of lips on your forehead, along with a whisper of thanks. You fell asleep with a smile on your face that night. Roman had taken a picture (with the flash on, which made for quite unflattering lighting) and sent it to you the next morning, giggling his amusing hyena-giggle while the two of you were in the bathroom—with you brushing your teeth and him perched up on the toilet seat lid. It was a tender moment of picturesque domesticism—a life that didn’t quite seem right for the two of you, unless it was with each other.

The rest of the weekend at the Pierce’s estate was uneventful. Everybody had gone home thinking the deal wasn’t going to go through—Shiv had told you her dad fucked everything by refusing to name her as the next CEO.

But, to everyone’s surprise except Logan’s, Nan Pierce ended up calling only a few hours later that she’d sell. You weren’t quite happy with the turn of events, but you supposed that’s just how it was with Logan. 

He always won.

Argestes, a business conference for important folk all over the world, was just under a month later. It was a rather prestigious event, the itinerary always decked with the most ludicrously rich and fanciful activities, with only limited invites handed out. 

This was to be your sixth annual year attending. 

You arrived with Roman practically draped over you, much to the press’ delight. After he made a snide comment about how manipulative you could be when it came to business, you bid him adieu, off to fraternize and mingle with potential allies you might need in your pocket. You were just grateful not to bump into Peter Pierce—the last thing you wanted to do was have him glued to your side for the rest of the weekend. 

The next day, when you’d just barely stepped out of your room, you got a frantic text from Roman. It was a link to a journal article about the cruise incidents, followed by a series of question marks and an indiscernible mash of emojis. The last text gave you the room he and his family were in. 

You rushed off to meet them there, checking your constantly buzzing phone along the way to see texts fly from dozens of people: Shiv, Gerri, your colleagues, your friends, your coworkers alike. This wasn’t a good look for the company, that was for sure. 

When you finally got there, Roman quirked a brow at you. “Have you read this? Tell me this isn’t the greyest shit you’ve ever read.”

“Give me a second, I’ve barely even woken up, much less had time to read the article.” You settled in beside him, opening up the link to begin reading. From across the room, Logan was skimming through a physical copy, glasses on the very tip of his nose as he mumbled under his breath. Shiv was on the other end, waiting for everyone to finish reading. 

Finally, you reached the end of the article, slumping back with furrowed brows. “This is, uhm, serious stuff but it’s also really unclear what’s actually being thrown at the wall here.”

“Maybe this, maybe that bullshit,” Roman uttered.

“Rome, careful,” said Kendall.

“Is this one of those things I need a woman to explain to me why it’s bad?” His head knocked into yours. “You tell me—is it bad?”

Offering him a shrug, you huffed out a sigh and scrolled all the way back up to read it again. “It’s bad, it’s fucking awful someone had to go through this—but in all honesty, I expected far worse for a journal article to blow up this much.”

Growing frustrated, Logan ripped his glasses off. “What’s the protein?”

A man you only faintly recalled as Hugo Baker, part of the Parks and Cruises sector, replied, “They found a woman, Keerson. She was working the cruises back in the mid nineties, and name-checked Lester McClintock.”

Gerri nodded. “She says Uncle Mo asked for sex with her and the other dancers to get their contracts renewed.”

“So they fucked?” Logan asked.

“It says sexual exploitation,” clarified Shiv.

“Said subject of the article is dead,” you chimed in. “So the blame on Mo will effectively be shifted onto Waystar. Negligence of ethical conduct, cruise malpractice, so on and so forth.”

A moment of silence filled the room.

“Well, what can we do about it?” Roman queried. 

Gerri said, “There’s not a lot of specifics. It’s not detailed. Cold hard facts: it’s one woman in the nineties, not twenty women four years ago.”

This made Kendall’s face sour, as he pulled the bill of his cap down lower over his face. “Great. I’m glad we’re so good at doing victim math.”

“Yeah, well, Gerri’s just saying it doesn’t necessarily punch through,” Shiv defended.

The older brother gestured to his phone. “Sure, but… this is not okay.”

“We know it’s not okay, that’s why we’re preparing a corporate response,” the redhead bit back. 

The conversation moved on to PR, which Gerri claimed to be Preston. This was met with Shiv’s vehement disapproval—they were three disgusting, old white dudes who, in her words, would just claim the women to be money-grabbing sluts.

“Call me sociopathic but isn’t this a tiny bit quaint in comparison to the past few years?” asked Roman. 

You bit down on the inside of your cheek in thought. “I think they’re hyperfixating on this right now because they see it as a gap in the chainmail. Mo is dead. He’s not around to bear the weight of blame on his shoulders.”

“We’re being punished for the sins of others,” claimed Logan. “No one real gives a fuck.”

You narrowed your eyes at the hot take. 

For once, you seemed to agree with Kendall when he shook his head. “No, no, we can’t be seen to minimize. I think we need to loudly and quickly say that this is not okay.”

“The question is, what would make it go away the fastest? Do we say it’s something and fix it, or say that it’s nothing and fuck off?” Gerri asked.

“Something,” pushed Kendall. “There has to be consequences.”

To your frustration, Shiv shook her head. “Nope. Condemn and move on. It’s just good advice.”

“Not to be the only frilly-pink feminist in the room, but this isn’t something to sweep under the rug. It may not seem that serious at first glance because of the vagueness but a few dozen women’s lives were ruined, and that’s just barely what we know because of the NDAs. If we ignore it now, it’ll come back to bite the company in the ass later down the line. The least we can do is compensate them, no?” you said, crossing your arms.

Sinking into a wooden chair that creaked beneath his weight, Logan threw his hands up. “This is bullshit. It’s all about me! It’s not real, it’s not honest. They don’t give a flying fuck for these poor bitches. They hate me! And I won’t be giving them the satisfaction of giving in. So no—condemn and move on.” 

You wanted to bury your face in your hands and scream. But you didn’t. You stood still and expressionless. 

They started discussing the panel for later that day. The original plan was for it to be Kendall and Roman up there, but having a woman up there would be much more… fitting given the well-timed article’s release. Shiv haughtily refused, but softened upon her dad asking her if she would. 

She’d think about it. 

And with that, the group began to file out. 

The hours trickled on by and before you knew it, there was only ten minutes until Roman and Kendall were supposed to go up for the panel. You were helping Rome rehearse through what he was supposed to say, even though you didn’t agree with the direction they were taking with simply condemning—it was better than not addressing it at all. 

It was all going smoothly until Shiv burst through the doors, declaring that she wanted to be up there for the panel, much to both Kendall and Roman’s dismay.

“Come on, man. It’s panicky as fuck,” said the eldest of the three. “It looks… kind of fucking cheesy, to be honest. Like we’re throwing our token woman at it? The woman who’s not even in our company?”

“Well, it can’t be two men up there right now. It just—it can’t. Right?” Shiv rounded her gaze to you, and you shrugged half-heartedly. 

“I don’t know, Shiv.”

Standing up, Hugo suggested, “Well, the audience is just expecting Roys, so—maybe we stick at two and someone relaxes.”

Logan’s gaze fell on his youngest son. “Romulus.”

“What? You want to pull me? That—that looks like a humiliation,” your friend heatedly defended. 

“We could just say you got sick,” Hugo said.

Both you and Roman made eye contact and you nodded at him to defend himself.

“No. No, you can’t just fuckin’ bump me ten minutes before the panel. That’s bullshit! Fuck that. Respectfully, dad, why is Shiv even here?” he hissed.

“I was invited,” Shiv replied in a serrated tone.

Roman crossed his arms. “Yeah, well, no, I need to be out there. We need to hang together. You know, like, family.”

Rolling her eyes, Shiv drew herself to her full height. “Oh, so you wanna get Connor on the line, get him to come down here, too? Let him dog-pile on so no one’s nose gets put out of joint?”

“I’ll put your nose out of joint!”

“Oh, yeah, you should say that on the panel—!” Shiv pursed her lips. “If you wanna know what I really think—I think you should drop both of them and I’ll do it solo.”

This time, you were quick to say, “Shiv, I love you, but you’re not part of the company yet. To shove you up there alone would look like fucking… empty wokeness. Like we’re smothering the problem with estrogen and calling it a day.”

Roman nodded. “Pretty desperate, Shiv—exploiting the situation for personal gain, hm?”

The three siblings bickered some more until it grew quite cumbersome and repetitive. 

Two minutes until the panel.

Logan held up three fingers, and that was the end of that.

The panel was… certainly a panel.

It was a lot of dancing around the subject between Kendall and Shiv. You were pretty sure Roman had only said a grand total of two short sentences. 

“We’ll do whatever it takes, you know? We’ll do whatever anyone wants,” he had said. 

From where you were watching on a screen backstage, you face-palmed with a sigh.

By the end, Shiv had made the fatal mistake of implying that Logan should step down from his position, going so far as to call him an old dinosaur. 

It was a shitshow, painted over with glitter and rainbows. In all honesty, it was an embarrassment to even associate yourself with the company at this point. There went all your business schmoozing and fraternizing for the past two days—right down the drain.

“Nice. Bring your daughter to the slaughter. Did you tell the old dinosaur what you were going to do?” Roman asked his twin once the three siblings returned to the room you were in. 

“Hey, I’m sorry, ‘We will do whatever anyone wants?’ What the hell was that?” Kendall asked.

Shrugging, Roman clapped both his hands on your shoulders from behind, squeezing your tensed muscles. “Fuck it, right? It’s just words. There’s no press, anyway. Who gives a shit?”

It was then that Logan walked in, Marcia and Gerri in tow. Roman’s hands slipped away from you to go pour himself a drink and stand by his father.

“It was too much, Siobhan,” said their stepmother. “Dinosaurs?”

Ducking his head, Kendall nodded. “It was over the line. Shiv was over the line.”

Brows cinching, Shiv protested, “Oh, I think it was pretty clear that I was talking about—”

Roman interrupted after taking a long sip of champagne. “No, it was clear, yeah. You tortured the old dinosaur. Barbecued him alive—!”

In a blink of an eye, Logan swung around and back-handed his son straight across the jaw, bellowing out, “Don’t fuck with me!”

The hit rang loud and true across the room. Flesh on flesh, skin on skin, father to son, boot to dog.

Roman fell back with a muffled noise, and you were immediately shooting out of your seat to curl a protective arm around him, placing yourself between him and his aggrieved father. Commotion sprung out—Kendall vehemently yelling at Logan not to touch his brother as if he were a valiant hero, Gerri trying her best to quell the situation with reassuring words.

But all the noise was drowned out in your ears. It was just you and Roman.

It was like you were children all over again, watching with watery eyes as young Roman tried his best to pick himself up after Logan’s frequent beatings. You hadn’t even noticed that your eyes had welled up with a warbling film of stinging tears, heart slamming against your ribcage with staggering, uneven jolts. 

He hunched over, working his jaw and spitting into his palm a second later. 

A tooth fell past his lips, flecked with blood and spit. You could feel your lips twitch downwards as you tried your hardest not to cry.

Kendall flanked to his left, his hand on his brother’s shoulder, and Shiv stood in front of him.

“Rome—you alright?” they both asked. “You okay?”

He worked his jaw again, then shrugged off Kendall’s hand. He was in no mood to be coddled by anyone but you.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m fucking fine! Just fucking—leave me alone. I’m fine.” As you began to lead him away, he called over his shoulder. “It’s just a tooth. I’ll get another one.”

Once it was just the two of you in the hallway, Roman dropped the act. It hurt like hell, and he felt safe enough around you not to have to put up a front.

You tugged him into your room with a mildly haunted expression, fingers gripping far too tightly into Roman’s arm. He walked into the bathroom to rinse his mouth out. The water ran a dark shade of pink. 

As he gingerly began brushing his teeth with a spare toothbrush you handed him, you studied his reflection. He stared back, hating how worried you looked for him. 

“You want me to call a medic?” you asked, voice small. “There’s a few on site.”

Roman squinted at nothing in particular, humming. His tongue ran along the part of his gums that throbbed the most. It tasted like copper. A familiar taste. Nostalgic, even.

“No.”

“Do you need to be alone?”

“Fuck, no.”

You rolled a tissue into a tightly-packed bundle, telling him to bite down on it to stop the bleeding. He did as you told, but not without complaining about it tasting like ass. It actually tasted like nothing, but Roman wanted to make you smile. He hated seeing you so worked up.

With that, the two of you made your way out of the bathroom. You made him sit down on your bed and wrapped your arms around him, clinging onto him like a koala to a tree trunk. The both of you slowly kicked off layers of your clothes, trying your best not to break hold of each other in the process. Shoes first, then jackets, then pants, then button-ups.

You were left in a dark short sleeve and your underwear, and he’d tossed off all his clothes except his boxers. 

“The Argie awards are in an hour,” said Roman. His lips brushed against your collarbone as he rested his forehead onto the slope of your shoulder.

“I wouldn’t have stripped down to nearly nothing if I was planning on going.”

“You’re gonna miss dinner. You’ll starve to death—and you won’t be allowed to blame me for it.”

“I have a banana somewhere in here. Plus—room service is only a call away.”

“Mmh. Mmkay.”

The tooth was still curled inside his clenched fist. 

“Wait,” you murmured against him, crawling off his lap to grapple for your wallet that you’d left on the nightstand. Roman murmured unhappily at the loss of warm contact, rubbing his palms up and down your legs. “I don’t really carry cash around these days but… I always keep a few spare coins in here.”

He watched as you fished through the slits, brandishing first a dime, then a nickel. Another dime.

Then you pulled out a quarter, grinning widely.

“I’m supposed to slip this under your pillow while you’re sleeping, but I have a feeling you’re not gonna let me get up for the rest of the night,” you whispered, crawling back to him and throwing a leg over his waist. He curled his own legs around you as well, leaning his weight into you. His head throbbed, his jaw throbbed harder, his heart throbbed the most. 

The cool metal of the quarter fell into his free hand. Then, he unfurled his fist. You stared down at the bloody tooth with unsure eyes.

“You have pretty teeth,” you told him after snapping out of your initial frozen state, pressing your nose into his uninjured cheek. “Even when we were kids, you had the prettiest pearly whites.”

Roman smiled, even though it ached to. “I remember you chased me around for my tooth once. Like a fucking freak.”

“Hm. You loved it, Romey.”

“Yeah, sure. Whatever,” he said, trying his best to be dismissive. Then, he craned his arm to place the tooth on the nightstand. 

You yawned, and he followed closely after you.

“It’s only eight at night. We’re falling asleep at fuckin’... fucking granny hour,” he grumbled.

A giggle, cut off by another yawn. “I don’t blame us. It’s been a long day. Sweet dreams, Romeo.”

“Night, fuck-face.”

“You know I love you, right?” you whispered. A light kiss to his throat as he swallowed.

“Obviously. You’re infatuated with me. Obsessed, even.”

If one was infatuated-slash-obsessed with the other, it’d most certainly be Roman.

You hummed and grinned into him. You didn’t deny his words, merely huffing with amusement. “I’m going to take your tooth and sell it on EBay for a hundred bucks.”

I’m fucking in love you, he wanted to scream.

“Fuck off,” he said. “It’s worth a million bucks at least. Shut up—stop fucking smiling, you freak. Go to sleep.”

You settled against him some more, and drifted off a few minutes later, listening to his heart beat from his throat.

You weren’t entirely sure what had transpired during the last few hours of Argestes, but there was one thing made clear: Nan Pierce had called off the acquisition entirely. You had no idea what to think of the entire situation anymore. You were just… tired of it all.

Not long after, a team had called you in to record a video message for Logan’s big fiftieth anniversary at Waystar. You were given very little time to figure out what to say, and so your message was short and sweet:

“Hey, Uncle Logan. I think we all owe you a bit of gratitude for giving half a century of your life to the large, ever-expanding field we call media. You’ve always been a constant figure in my life—heh, more constant than my own parents. I couldn’t imagine where I’d be without you. Congratulations, and I look forward to the next fifty years working by your side.”

It wasn’t over the top, and only slightly sugar-coated with falsities. 

Once you stepped out of the recording booth, Roman shot you a grin. “Cocksucker,” he teased. “There you go—something you and Rhea can bond over.”

You prodded his chest with stiff fingers. “Shut up,” you fondly told him.

“How’d you even get all that in one fucking take? They had me say ‘I love you, Dad’, like, ten times in a row.”

Before you could retort back, the two of you bumped into Shiv, who was typing away furiously at her phone. 

“What do you guys reckon—you think Dad is boning Rhea?” she asked.

With a snort, Roman strode away to pour himself a cup of coffee. “Can’t wrap my head around that. Too steamy. Too hot.”

“You are a walking Freudian complex, you know that, Ro?” you asked him, bumping his hips with yours so he’d move over as you fixed your own drink. “I don’t wanna think about it, honestly. Who my godfather fucks is really none of my business.”

“You’re just jealous. You want daddykins all to yourself!” said Roman in a sing-song voice, which made you purposefully step onto his toes. “OW!”

The hot coffee jostled over the rim of his cup and some of it sloshed onto his chest. He sent you a glare and you kissed his cheek with a sweet smile before moving off to sit next to Connor.

“Yeah, yeah, but we should, like, talk about what this means. We’re… we’re all sensing the shift, right?” asked Shiv.

“Gerri says she’s the new thing,” said Roman as he took a seat beside you, obnoxiously leaning back to drape both his legs over your thighs.

Connor lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “Well, it just so happens that Gerri was the new thing a while back.”

“Mmh—Logan made it clear that she was more or less there as a placeholder,” you said, sipping on your cup, watching the siblings over the rim. “Come on—there’s no way Logan is handing the company over to a woman, much less a woman older than fifty. It’s a shame, because Gerri really could’ve been a great CEO had she been given an actual chance.”

It didn’t go past your notice to see Shiv’s face contort with dismay at your words. Not too long ago, she’d been under the impression that Logan was handing the company over to a woman—her. 

“I just think we need to be careful,” she said.

“Awh, what’s wrong? You all wedgied up because Rhea stood on your back and worked your arms like an elliptical?” asked Roman, which made both you and Connor snort with amusement.

She rolled her eyes. “I’m just saying, we should probably have a plan. You know, in case Dad does something rash.”

It was then that Connor was called away to record his message, and Kendall sauntered in just a minute later. His jacket and pants were noticeably rumpled and a pair of sunglasses sat on the bridge of his nose. Only assholes like Kendall would wear sunglasses indoors.

“Hey, what’s up?” he greeted everyone.

“You’re wearing the same clothes as yesterday—you want us to think you got laid. Nice try.” Both you and Roman giggled like schoolgirls, which only had the older man rolling his eyes. 

“Well, have fun discussing killing Rhea—” you began.

“There wasn’t anything about killing—” protested Shiv.

“I’m gonna head out. Gotta get some work done before the flight to Dundee. Which, is so fucking over the top, by the way. Even my parents are going for this. They weren’t there for any of my birthdays in the past twenty years, but sure, let’s go to Uncle Logan’s celebration for his fiftieth year working at Waystar.” You nudged Roman’s legs off of yours so you could stand up. 

Rome’s eyes widened. “Your parents are coming? Damn. Rhea really went all out, didn’t she?”

You frowned. “Feels more like a personal affront to me than anything. Not looking forward to seeing them, but whatever. See you guys later.”

They all murmured their farewells and you patted Roman’s knee softly before heading out.

Dundee was cold. So cold that you had to wear two layers of thermal socks, and your toes were still cold. Roman made fun of you the entire way into the hotel room, joking about icicles forming beneath your chin. 

Once you were finally inside, you cranked your heater up as high as it could go, shedding all your layers off with a grateful moan. It’d been a long flight, and you were exhausted.

Roman laid down on your bed, lazily turning his head to follow your movements as you flitted to and fro around your room, unpacking your essentials.

“There’s better ways to warm up than hanging your wrinkled button-ups,” he quipped. One of his brows quirked upwards in an almost seductive manner.

You laughed at that, fishing out articles of clothing from your luggage. “You’re all bark and no bite, Roman. Besides—you literally brought Tabitha to this event. Where even is she, anyway?”

With a shrug, he remarked absentmindedly, “Oh, she’s off exploring all the joys of Scotland.”

“So… grass and sheep?”

He laughed his hyena-laugh. “Yeah, grass and sheep.” Then, he propped himself up on an elbow to face you properly. “Did you bring a date?”

“Ugh. Didn’t want to bring one. Not with my parents coming. It’ll be a nightmare.”

Something in Roman’s eyes softened. “I would’ve been your date if, uh, if I hadn’t already asked Tabs. To be fair, I asked her before I knew about your parents. I can kick her back to America right now if you ask.”

You paused in your ministrations. “Stop it. I like Tabs. She’s nice. And I wouldn’t have wanted you to be my date out of pity, anyway.”

Roman lifted his shoulders in a slow shrug, lips pursed. “It wouldn’t be pity if I wanted to.”

A beat of silence. 

You blew out a sigh. “I’m really here for the image. I’ll say hi to my parents, and then avoid them for the rest of the night.”

“I can help you with avoiding them.”

“Hm?”

“Gerri wants me to secure funding for Waystar to go private. As a… back up plan, in case everything combusts into fuckin’ flames. She wants me to target Eduard. Seduce him, or whatever. You can come with—butter him up with all your oozy corporate rank and that—that pretty face on your face. He wouldn’t be able to resist if we double-combo him.” Roman shot you a lopsided smile that only lifted one corner of his lips. You pushed away the urge to coo at the fact that he called your face pretty. “Or… you can flit around with all of Dad’s cocksuckers and awkwardly bump into your parents two hundred times before the waterworks break out and you make an embarrassment of yourself in the middle of the celebration.”

Done with putting away your clothes, you made your way to the bed and sat down beside him, your shoulder pressed up flush over his. 

“You’re a lifesaver, Rome. Yeah, of course I’ll come.”

“Yeah, yeah. You can repay me with a blowjob.”

You laughed, but a small part of you wondered if he was serious.

“Any other ways I can repay you? None that could, uhm, potentially warrant a lawsuit?”

Roman scratched at his chin in thought. “Yeah, actually—what if we got, like, married?” His voice went all soft and high-pitched. Lilting. Tentative. 

Your eyes widened at first, then narrowed thinly. “What?” you asked, partially incredulous. He was joking, right?

Right?

“Not like—” He gestured aimlessly. “Not like that. Not actual marriage. Like something equivalent to that—like me chaining you down in the basement, or something. Like me kidnapping you and keeping you hostage.”

“Romeo, what the hell are you talking about?” You sat forward, your face all the closer to his. “In what world is that equivalent to marriage?”

Nervous anxiety clawed within his stomach. “Jesus Christ, I’m not talking about marriage. Just something on that fucking level of us being tied together. I don’t know, you chop off my dick, I chop off your tongue, whatever the fuck. You know, like, you eat me, I eat you—like they do in Germany.”

You were pretty sure that’s not what they did in Germany.

“You know what I mean.” His eyes were pleading, asking you for something you weren’t quite sure of.

“I… I don’t think I do?” You took one of his hands. “Rome, what’s going on? You’re being… weirder than normal. Did something happen with Tabitha?”

Because he was in love with you and he had no idea how to say it. 

The answer to Roman was simple: he just wouldn’t.

Hastily, Roman pulled away from your touch. He rolled off the bed in one single motion, almost tumbling over his own feet as he scrambled to the door. He tried to ignore your crestfallen expression watching him put more distance between the two of you.

“No, nothing happened with Tabitha. Just, uh—just think about it. I’ll text you the details to meet Eduard. Bye!” He was already halfway out the door with his last word.

You screwed your lips to the side in puzzled exasperation, and blew out a heavy sigh.

The pub was nearly empty, save for a snogging couple near the back, and a few scattered about the seats casually sipping their ale as they watched the soccer match on the mounted television above the bar. Amongst them was Eduard, standing out like a sore thumb with his crisp suit and his dark, slicked-back hair. Just the sight of him seemed to cost money.

“My God, you smell like cotton candy—I almost want to lick your neck. Don’t you want to lick his neck, Y/N?” Roman asked instead of greeting him like any regular person would.

You shot him a half-hearted glare before sticking your hand out. Roman had always been one to overstep boundaries. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Asgarov.”

“Oh, please, Eduard is fine. And the pleasure is all mine,” he languidly drawled, eyes darting up and down your form as a pleased smile curled the corner of your lips. He firmly clasped your palm in a handshake. “I’ve heard much about you—general manager… the glue of the company, some people say. But Roman never mentioned that you were so beautiful.”

A large part of Roman’s insides bristled with hostility, an emotion he couldn’t quite put his finger on, but he plastered on a strained smile anyway. “Yup, yeah, forgot to mention. But, uh, yeah, thanks for coming, man. My dad’s going to be very pleased when he sees old friends and whatnot…” He waved the bartender over to order himself a pint, and added on a non-alcoholic beverage for you—he knew you didn’t like to drink during the day. Then, he caught sight of the television. “What’s this? Who’s playing?”

“Scottish,” replied Eduard, taking a sip of his own beer. “I’m thinking of getting in.”

 Your eyebrows raised a notch. “Mmh, smart choice. Lots of buried money in European soccer leagues.”

Eduard spared you a warm smile.

A frown crossed Roman’s features—he was starting to regret inviting you, even though he’d been the one to suggest you flirt him up. 

“Scottish kicky-ball,” he remarked. “Looks like two eunuchs trying to fuck a letterbox.”

His foul comment went largely ignored by the two of you. 

Eduard was certainly an attractive man, you thought once you watched his tongue draw out to run along his lips in thought. “I’m liking the look of Hibs,” he said, eyes trained on the television, flitting down to glance at you for a second. “Or Hearts. I’m undecided.”

“Hearts?” asked Roman. “That’s my dad’s team. The only childhood relic he can stomach.”

Hazy memories of seven-year-old you peeking over the expensive leather couches to see what your godfather was watching on screen came across your mind. It always cycled through the same three channels: ATN, soccer, and old black-and-white English films from the fifties. You never stayed for long, always darting out of the room in fear of him turning to see you there, watching along with him. But from the little that you did catch a glimpse of—you could only barely recall the green insignias and jerseys of the Hibs on the screen.

“I think he was a Hibs fan, no?” you asked, thanking the bartender when he slid your drink over. 

Roman scoffed. “Pfft—I think I’d know which team dad likes.” You didn’t bother trying to argue with him. After all, your childhood memories weren’t exactly the most reliable source.

With a half-minded hum, Eduard said, “I’ve got an agent in Spain. I buy the club, he loans me nine shit-hot players. Climb the ladder, take the second Champion’s League space, UEFA goes full European super-league, flip it, walk away.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, but it sounds fucking slick, dude,” Roman replied, sipping on the frothy part of his drink. “Slicker than cum on a dolphin’s back.”

“You want in?” asked Eduard.

“Mmh, maybe. But before all that—can we talk about what we talked about before? You know, a major injection, or even taking us private. Have you talked to your dad?” asked Roman. 

A smile and a nod. “It’s a conversation we can have—I have total, three-sixty latitude to work on my father’s behalf.”

“Great. Yeah, cool. No, me too. Yup.”

He didn’t, but you wisely kept your mouth shut. 

“Weird, how much we’re the same,” said Roman, playfully punching Eduard’s shoulder.

“Yeah, you guys are practically twins,” you quipped, smiling over the rim of your glass. “Couldn’t tell the two of you apart.”

The dark-haired man tilted his head. “Buy them with me. We’ll split it fifty-fifty.”

“I, uh…” Roman spared you a look, silently asking you if he was being stupid with his rashness. “I don’t really see a downside, other than zero knowledge or interest in Scottish football. But, yeah! Hearts. Sounds fun.”

“Hibs,” you said.

Roman wrinkled his nose. “Hearts.”

“Hearts, it is,” said Eduard.

It wasn’t Hearts. 

After Kendall’s laughable rap song about—what was it—stanning his dad and calling him the OG, Roman had broken the news that he’d bought the Hearts club as a present for Logan on such a special day.

Logan fixed the three of you with a blank stare. 

“The Hearts?” he echoed.

Roman spread his arms, wiggling the tips of his finger in a sad rendition of jazz hands. “Mhm.”

“Hearts Football Club?”

Roman nodded.

Shiftily, Logan looked towards you. He always looked to you for clarification when he couldn’t understand his son—which was quite often.

“Uhm, Roman bought the Hearts for you,” you said, voice small.

“It’s your team, right?” Rome asked.

A beat of silence.

“I’m Hibs,” said your godfather.

You fucking knew it.

“You’re Hibs,” parroted Roman, his shoulders beginning to droop. “Really? Are you sure? I thought you were Hearts—I’m pretty sure you were Hearts, dad.”

Scratching at his chin, Logan softly said, “You know what, maybe you’re right. Hm. How would I know what team I’ve supported all my fucking life? Who knows—maybe I supported Kilmarnock. Or Fucklechester Rangers? I mean, how could I possibly know?”

Roman recoiled as if he’d been kicked. Eduard patted his shoulder, and brushed his hand along your lower back as he slipped away, chest burning with secondhand embarrassment. 

“Sorry, Uncle Logan, there’s just been a, uh, a miscommunication—” you said, hastily tugging Roman away. The two of you wove through the crowd until you got out of the large room, into one of the quieter halls. 

You chewed on your bottom lip, watching Roman frustratedly pace back and forth in front of you. Just as you opened your mouth to speak, he snapped out, “I thought he was fucking Hearts, dude!”

“... I told you, Ro.”

He scowled. “Ugh. Shut up.”

Before you could ask if he could maybe switch somehow, two figures pushed through the doors, coming to stand in front of you. You tore your gaze away from the flustered man, fixing your eyes on—

Fuck.

“It’s lovely to see you, Y/N,” said your mother. In her hand was a glass of wine, half empty. “You’ve grown quite a bit. Have you gained weight?”

She reached out, but you immediately stepped back, closer to Roman. 

After getting over your initial shock, you cleared your throat and tentatively responded, “Hi, mom. Dad.”

The couple gave you an awkward onceover. It’d been years since you last saw them, with maybe one or two texts exchanged every year for the holidays. Though, even that wasn’t a guarantee.

“We, uhm, we saw you rush out with Roman here and thought we’d say hello,” said your father, sparing you a terse smile.

“Wow.” Roman, unsurprisingly, inserted himself into the conversation. “And the parents of the year award goes to…”

“You thought you’d say hello. Jesus—I haven’t seen either of you in fucking forever and the first thing you do is nitpick at my appearance?” you growled, fists clenching by your side. “Listen, if you want to be in my life, then be in my life. But you can’t pretend that everything is okay when you see me and then promptly waltz off and disappear for another decade or two.”

Your mother sipped at her wine, at a loss for words. They glanced at each other, both wearing a mildly guilty expression, but had really nothing to defend themself with.

With an angry scoff, you stormed back into the room where Logan was about to give his closing speech, shoulder roughly knocking into your father’s as you brushed past him. 

Roman scratched the back of his head, left alone with your parents. 

“For the record, Y/N is doing fucking great without either of you. You know—crunching those numbers, being a goddamn messiah for the lower-level employees, fucking the boss. All that jazz.” He grinned and hum-laughed when their eyes widened in shock, and sauntered in after you. It wasn’t exactly that white of a lie. You’d given him a handjob and the two of you technically had phone sex—would those two activities put together constitute as one whole traditional, in-person fuck?

He’d come in to stand beside you and Tabitha just in time to hear his father make the announcement.

“... And I shall be appointing Rhea Jarrell as my Chief Executive Operator.”

The crowd burst into applause. Roman clapped with a faux-surprised expression. When he glanced at you, you were wiping the corner of your eyes with the back of your palm and hastily clapped along.

Once the cheers began to mellow away, Roman stopped clapping to lace his fingers through the gaps of yours, squeezing tight. Your eyes watered even more at the contact, but you squeezed back in gratitude.

There was an interview of  James Weissel on the television: a whistleblowing interview tossing Gerri, Kendall, and Tom into the stinking shitpot that was the cruise incidents, accusing the three of covering up McClintock’s actions. Logan had shut it off before anybody could finish watching.

Whilst everyone was busy prattling off about how bad of a situation this was, Gerri seemed to be the one lighthouse amidst the storm.

“I say we tell the truth,” she calmly said, adjusting her glasses to sit higher up her nose. “The family knew nothing of this. We throw Mo overboard. Mo, bad apple. Jim Weasel, bad apple. Spies a book deal—sotto voce, backed by Sandy and Stewy. All corporate fuckery, no real concern. In terms of historic shit? I say we give up Bill. He should’ve let us know what he discovered rather than cleaning up without telling us the details.”

Bill had been the old Tom before Tom was, well, Tom.

And so there was the strategy: letting Bill take the fall, and kill him off. It wasn’t… a decision you necessarily felt good about, but it was the least messy the situation could be.

Things felt like they’d be smoothed over, just for a little bit.

But then Siobhan came in, phone clutched tightly in her hand. “Gil is going to call for hearings.”

This stirred up quite a murmur in the room. Both Kendall and Frank sat up in their seats with incredulous questions on the tip of their tongues.

“Yeah, Senate Commerce. Probably House, too.” 

Gerri was on her phone in an instant. “Buckle up folks,” she said while scrolling through the news. “We’re going to get an invite to the national latrine. See who’s going to take a public dump.”

“Mr. Fuck is going to Washington,” Shiv sighed.

It was then that Logan let out an ear-splitting bellow of rage. It shocked both you and Roman into flinching. 

“NO! I CAN’T HAVE THIS NOW!” he screamed in distress.

There was a long moment of silence. 

In a leveled tone, you asked Shiv, “Who’s testifying?”

“Uh, well… well, they’d want Dad.”

Kendall quickly protested, “No, we can’t—we won’t let that happen—”

“Protect the egg chamber!” said Roman. Nobody could quite tell if he was being sarcastic or not. 

It was then that Hugo suggested Gerri and Tom to testify. The group went back and forth for a little while longer on what the play would be, but it was quite clear that everybody was already settled with Gerri and Tom going up there. 

To your surprise, Logan called for you and Roman out of the room. 

A part of you wondered if he’d beat Roman over the head with his fancy business shoe for buying the wrong soccer team. You certainly wouldn’t put it past him, especially in his already-agitated state. 

“I need both of your help,” he told the two of you once you were out of the room, lingering by the foot of the pristine staircase. 

“Need someone to run to the store for smokes?” Roman asked, his hands propped on his hips.

“This’ll go on all night… and it might not be okay,” your godfather said.

This made you tilt your head. “Will this really sway the shareholders into folding? It happened under our noses three decades ago, and the perpetrator is dead.”

“The very fact that we’re being called to testify will spook the shareholders. I’m on a knife’s edge.” He grunted softly as he lowered himself to sit on one of the lower steps of the cold staircase. “Ten bad minutes on camera, and that could be it. The end.”

Roman’s brows raised. “The end? Come on, Dad.”

“I need the two of you to chase down the sovereign wealth money,” said Logan.

You and Roman glanced at one another. Was he being serious? 

“Right. Uhm… I mean—that’s… it’s a cool idea, but it’d be a stretch, no?” Roman tentatively brought up. 

Logan leaned forward, shifting his weight onto his elbows, which were resting upon his knees. Though he had made himself physically smaller, he’d always be the biggest presence in the room. “We need that central Asian money. It’s a time out from the responsibilities of being a public company. That’s a fucking lifeline, if I’ve ever seen one.”

“They’d be taking on a massive amount of debt. That’s a… huge responsibility, Uncle Logan.” 

The older man snorted. “Which is why I’m making you go with him. Make sure he doesn’t fuck up. Keep it under wraps. And bring Karl and Laird with you, as well, for the financial matters.” There was a pause as he studied the two of you. “Can you do it?”

Roman scratched anxiously at the back of his head. “Fuck, Dad, I want to say I can. But, I’ll be honest—if it’s, like, really important… I mean, I can say I can do it—like one of those firefighters in the movies. But I don’t know if—”

“You act the fuckleknuckle, but you know… people like you.” 

There it was. A narrow slant of light. It wasn’t real—at least, you didn’t think it was—but it was warmth regardless.

Roman’s features twisted. “It’s a really big fucking deal.”

“Nah. It’s getting the right number from the right suit. Getting your dick in there is easy. Getting into bed—that’s the hard part,” said his father. “You can do it. Both of you can.”

You scuffed your shoe against the floor just as Roman’s nose twitched. 

“Yeah. Sure, dad, I got it.”

Logan pushed himself off the staircase, placing a hand on each of your shoulders. The light was warm, and far too addicting. He smiled softly. 

It wasn’t real, you had to remind yourself. It’s never real. But did that really matter? Did it?

“You’re brilliant, my dear. A real force to reckon with. I trust you to hammer the nail right on its head,” he said. 

You swallowed harshly. “I hope we won’t disappoint, Uncle.”

When he pulled away, he began to make his way towards the doors once more. “Keep me close,” he said. 

And with that, he was gone.

Roman let out a breath he hadn’t even realized he was holding. 

“Why does it feel like we just dug our own graves? I feel like I’ve got fuckin’ dirt in my eyes,” he lamented just as you leaned your head onto his shoulder. “You know, if the company ever kills you off, I’ll quit. I don’t know how I’d do it around here without you.”

“All bark, still no bite,” you quietly told him. “You wouldn’t leave the company. Not on your own free will.”

Like a caged dog: it was only able to escape if their owner opened the door for them.

“I’ll kill myself if they kill you. I mean it—I’ll eat a fucking silver bullet.”

“How romantic.”

“Mhm—we’re like fuckin’... Romeo and Juliet.”

He smiled, and so did you.

“C’mon. Let’s go watch the grown-ass men I bought kick around balls for a bit,” said Roman.

Eduard greeted you at the soccer team’s practice field with a kiss on the cheek, Roman with a firm handshake. 

“It’s good to see you,” you told him with a genuine smile. 

“Good to see you guys, too,” he replied. His expression was well-guarded behind a pair of dark shades. “With everything I’ve heard going down at Waystar, I was surprised you even showed up.”

With a shrug, Roman said, “I have nothing better to do, I promise. I’m gonna cut right to the chase here—do you think there’s any chance you guys have the muscle to take us private? Is that something that’s interesting to you and your dad?”

With nearly no hesitation, Eduard bobbed his head in an affirmative.

Shocked, Karl asked, “Really? That’s…”

Eduard spared the older man half of a grin. “Yes, we’re interested. It’ll look good as part of our portfolio, and we like the news expertise you can share.” Just as Laird began spewing off details to tell Logan, Eduard cut him off by saying, “Actually, Roman, Y/N—can you guys do it? The two of you make quite a team. You and your… bum-boys here can come to Turkey tomorrow? Pitch to me and my Dad?”

You and Roman exchanged earnest glances, as if speaking to each other telepathically. You were sure you could push back your work at Waystar for a few days to settle the privatizing deal. 

“Absolutely. I think we can definitely do that,” said Rome, with a pleased hum. Then, he turned back to fix his gaze on Laird and Karl. “Ain’t that right, bum-boys?”

 “Why Turkey?” you asked, brows raising. “I mean, I can pitch to you anywhere, but why, you know, all the way across the ocean?”

“There’s an investing conference in Bursa. Everyone will be there—we can get into it. Unless you have any objections…?”

Hastily, you shook your head. “No, no. This is great. Thanks for the opportunity.”

“No problem,” said Eduard, watching the ball fly across the field, landing into the goal. “I like you guys. Really.”

The coach called for the team to huddle up, allowing for the owners to say a few words. A part of you wondered if Rome even remembered the name of the FC he had bought.

“Great session, guys. And listen, for Saturday, you have the ability, you have the mentality. Watch that press doesn’t leave you exposed on the turnover, and you fucking got this. Rome?” Eduard turned to your friend, who hadn’t really prepared anything to say.

Roman fixed you with a panicked look, but you nudged him forward with a purse of you lips.

Scratching the back of his head, he awkwardly started, “Uh, yeah, hey guys! Really proud to be associated with all of you. Uh, well, what the fuck can I tell you that you don’t already know? You, uh, you got all this guys, don’t worry about it. ‘Cause you guys are a team, and, uh, when a team… is a team… it can’t actually physically be beaten. It’s impossible. So, go hard, go fast—uh, go you… lovely bastards.” The team glanced at each other and began to awkwardly clap, before Rome looked to you and said, “Anything else you want to add?”

“Me?” you hissed under your breath. “Rome, I’m not an owner—”

“Just say something—!” he whispered back, yanking you forward by the arm.

Stiff, you waved at the litter of sweaty, jerseyed men in front of you. “Hi. Yeah, I’m sure you guys know I’m not one of the team’s owners, but I was there during the business negotiations as Roman’s, uh… co-partner. All I can do now is wish you all the best of luck for your next match—get some rest, eat some good food, keep your eyes on the prize. And if any of you want to get in touch with Waystar Royco for any sort of PR pitches to get your face out there… Coach will have me and Roman’s contact details.” With a smile, you stepped back, shoulder brushing against Roman’s.

“Fuck you,” he muttered bitterly. “Did you rehearse that in your head or something? How’d you manage to perfectly squeeze business into a fucking pep talk?”

You grinned and pinched his cheek lightly. “Go hard and go fast, you lovely bastard,” you mocked, voice rife with fondness, chortling when he swatted your hand away.

Before you knew it, you and Roman (and the bum-boys) were in Turkey, pitching to Eduard and his team. You had tried practicing a little the night before, but Roman had tossed all the flashcards away out of part-frustration and part-cockiness, assuring you that things would be fine. 

Now, as he was speaking, he seemed pretty confident in his own words. The two of you made a good team, after all.

“Look at the cash flow,” said Roman. “We are undervalued. I think tech just had everybody shitting their pants about legacy media, but really, the wheel turns.”

You nodded with an emphatic smile. “It’s true. No matter how much content moves to streaming sites, people will always want to look for something physical. Something you can feel and experience outside of home—hence Waystar’s adventure parks, and films to experience in theaters.” You made great effort to skirt around the touchy subject of cruises at the moment. 

“Most tech is overvalued. We’re profitable. We’re real money,” Roman added, growing more assured of himself with your support. 

“Tech is always changing. Invest in one thing, and it’ll be outdated in a blink of an eye. Invest in things people will always need: news, broadcasting, life experiences… now that’s reliable.” Eduard flashed you a smile, as if he was already sold.

“This is a tremendous opportunity,” said Rome. “This is once in a lifetime. You get to buy into the US media landscape at the very top. The very top.”

Two of the men leaned forward to whisper indistinctly to one another. 

“It’s a lot of debt,” one of them said once he finally pulled away. “You sure you can pull it together?”

“Absolutely sure,” Roman said with a mild laugh, knowing things with money and debt were quite rocky at the moment, before pointing back at Laird. “Jaime here is the fucking master of leverage. He has structured some of the biggest LBOs in history.”

“Guilty as charged,” said the older man.

Before anyone could say anything else, the doors to the room opened, and a few men filed in, murmuring indistinctly to the security. Your brows pulled together upon seeing guns strapped to their forms.

Roman exchanged a worried look with you.

“Are they, uh… are they with you?” he asked Eduard, who got up off his seat to speak to them in hushed tones.

“Rome, they have guns,” you murmured as you placed a hand on his forearm, glancing back at Karl and Laird. “What’s going on?”

The atmosphere seemed to chill when Eduard turned back to the four of you.

“Hey, look, we’re good. We’re good. But, uh… we’re all gonna go with these gentlemen now, okay?” He raised his hands in an almost placating manner, as if trying to tame a nervous mare. 

 Roman pointed at the armed men. “We’re going with them?” He laughed nervously, wondering if this was one big, elaborate joke. “Uh, no… I don’t think we—uh, who are these guys, exactly?”

Genuine fear began to curdle in your stomach when you watched the security walk out. “Dave just walked out. Hey, Eduard? I just—I need you to be honest with me. Are we in danger right now?”

Eduard worked his jaw in thought. “We’re just going to go with them now. Okay? It’ll be fine.”

“No, uh, I just—Can I just ask what this is in regards to?” Roman stepped in, high-strung. “Is this about the meeting? Is this a business thing?” 

Did I fuck it up and put a loaded gun to my own head? he wanted to say, but bit his tongue before he could.

With a sharp tone, you asked, “Our security guy, Dave, he just walked out with them. Where’d he go? Is he coming back?”

“Dave’s not coming,” said Eduard with pursed lips.

“He’s not coming?” Roman parroted. “Uhm… I would actually really like for Dave to come?”

“Dave is downstairs, we’ll go without him,” Eduard said in a calm tone. “Dave is a security risk. It’s better with these guys, okay?”

“Well, I know Dave, and I sure as hell don’t know these guys so… I think I’d prefer Dave—” you began to say, but was quickly cut off when Eduard put a hand on your shoulder and began leading your tense form out the room, Roman hot on your heels.

“It’s all good. It’s all under control,” Eduard murmured, though you highly doubted it. “There could be a situation, but we’re being looked after.”

A frown crossed Roman’s expression. “Oh, great. We’re being looked after. Fucking great. Laird—can you call Dave?”

They pulled out their phones, but the vested men with guns took the devices away just as quickly as it was pulled out. One stood in front of you with an expectant expression, and you complied with no resistance, handing him your phone, though not without a scowl.

“Great. They took my phone, and now I can’t contact my security, and now we’re going to die,” Roman said. When you looked at him, you could see genuine, restless fear dance over his irises. You didn’t quite know what to say, so you simply squeezed his arm as the two of you walked along.

The armed men led all of you to a crowded hotel lobby, where there seemed to be more hostages, more armed folk in similar attire. 

“Fuck,” Roman mumbled under his breath. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. This isn’t business, is it?”

“Doesn’t look very business-y,” replied Karl.

When someone passed by and their gun brushed against your arm, you flinched back into Roman, your lips pulling back in a snarl. “Eduard. Fuck—Eduard, where the fuck are you taking us?”

“Just relax. This is normal,” he said, shiftily.

Roman scoffed. “Oh, yeah. This feels really fucking normal. Is this—are these guys terrorists? Where’s my fucking security guy? Where’s Dave?”

For a moment, Eduard seemed at a loss for words. You could feel dread pile up in your stomach. “It’s just… it’s an administrative action function,” he reluctantly said.

“Mm, yeah, great, and what exactly is that—?” Roman began to ask, before halting his own question when he trained his gaze on a struggle across the lobby. “Oh, wow, look at that. Guy not being allowed to leave the hotel at gunpoint. That’s—uh, yeah. So what’s… what’s this administrative action function?”

Pursing his lips, Eduard finally fessed up, “There’s just a gathering here now, of us and some other investors, and—”

“Men with guns?” Roman impatiently chirped.

“Yeah, yeah, that, and their guys are some kind of… anti-corruption kind of guys and this is like—it’s like their conference. Or, uh, a party of some sort. And we’re all invited.”

Your eye twitched. “That’s really lovely, but uh, what if I don’t want to go?”

A scream from somewhere over the crowd echoed through the lobby. Glass shattering followed soon after. Karl paled and he anxiously picked at a hangnail.

Eduard sighed. “It’s the kind of party where you have to go. It would be… rude.”

Roman stared at the ground, at nothing in particular. “Well, uh, I guess I wouldn’t mind being just a tiny bit rude.”

It was becoming more and more clear that no amount of protests or questions would get you out of this situation—not with every exit manned by armed personnel. The hostages in the hotel were soon herded into a large hall, empty save for bare white chairs for people to sit on. Eduard was led into a different room, and you briefly wondered if that’d be the last time you ever saw him.

You blew out a breath as you took a seat. Roman was quick to snare Laird into playing a multitude of games, like rock, paper, scissors, eye spy, and fuck, marry, kill. You didn’t pay much attention to them, instead trying to figure out what you’d do with yourself once you got out of this situation. One thing was for sure: your therapist was going to have a field day hearing this. 

“Where do you think they’re taking them?” you asked the men beside you when they began grabbing hostages and shoving them out the doors. 

“Doesn’t look like they’re gonna be taking a tour of the spa,” said Laird.

“My advice,” Karl huffed, looking awfully sweaty, “just don’t look at anything. If you don’t look, you’re not a witness.”

You buried your face in your hands. “Wonderful. Brilliant advice, Karl. At least you didn’t tell me to just take it if they decided to shove their dicks into my mouth.”

“Woah!” exclaimed Roman, eyes widening. “That’s not going to happen. Right? That can’t happen.”

You spared him a shrug, slumping back against the chair. Though, you were quick to sit up straight again when Eduard emerged from the doors, making a bee-line for you and Roman.

“Hey, guys. It’s all good. Things are good. So, uh, my president’s daughter’s husband has asked him to take closer control of some key assets. It’s anti-corruption, but it’s a bit of a power-grab. Some Turkish acquiescence, but it’s all in play.”

If you had to be honest, you understood very little of what he was saying. Whether it was because of your panic-hazed mind, or because he was merely being ambiguous, you couldn’t quite tell.

“Not to, uh, make this all about us…” began Roman, tentative, “but are they going to shoot us at any point?”

“No one is getting shot,” assured the bearded man. “Look, it’s complicated, but with the Zeynal here—there’s some interest about the deal.”

Deal? 

Both you and Roman glanced at each other. 

“Uh, fuck. Okay. The deal, sure,” said Rome.

“One thing they wanted clarity on was—how could they be sure the deal wouldn’t be blocked by your government?” Eduard asked.

You stuck your tongue against your cheek when Roman shook his head, “Well, it wouldn’t. My father has a lot of sway. I mean, he can’t lock up his opponents in a hotel, but, well, he kinda could.”

“And you’re the target of another bid? Won’t that be a problem?”

Sandy and Stewy. “Not a problem,” you quickly said. “They’re all bark, very little bite. If the price is right, we can easily reach a settlement before the shareholder meeting.”

With a nod, Eduard patted your knee, and he got up to leave—talk to his associates once more. 

“That went well,” said Laird, mildly surprised. 

“Yeah… a little too well,” Roman mused.

Hours later, Eduard returned, calling for the four of you to follow him.

It was a pitch. A messy pitch—one you clearly weren’t in the right mindspace for. One where the audience had clear smudges of coke lining their nostrils, dusting their tables. One that had a lot of money thrown into the empty promises, accompanied by high smiles and wandering eyes. It made you feel sick, and Roman clearly wasn’t a fan of it, either. Laird seemed to be satisfied with the mutual agreements, though. He heard money, and he immediately thought he was safe.

But the agreements didn’t feel quite real. None of it felt real. It was all bullshit, you wanted to yell at their face. Being held at gunpoint to play business in front of the coked out billionaires was not your preferred method of saving the company, especially when none of the settlements felt cemented. This wasn’t safe money to bet the entire company on—it might’ve not been money at all, in fact.

By the end of everything, the ambassador had arranged for a plane to finally get you out of the country. You fell asleep as soon as you sat down in your seat, the long hours going without sleep finally catching up to you. Roman curled up in the seat beside you, his head on your shoulder. He stayed awake the entire flight, listening to your steady breaths.

The Mediterranean. The Roys were on a fancy yacht in the Mediterranean.

It would’ve sounded like a pleasant getaway, if you weren’t dead-tired, having just returned from being held hostage at gunpoint. You just wanted to go home. Logan, however, wanted you and Rome by his side—and who were you to say no to the top dog?

As the speedboat skidded to a stop by the yacht, cheers erupted from siblings, along with Gerri and Frank, Greg and Tom. Roman slid his sunglasses on as he clambered onto the larger boat’s deck. 

“Here they are! The heroes of Asia!” exclaimed Shiv, a flute of champagne in hand. She was the first to greet you, taking your hand and helping you out of the speedboat. After a kiss to your cheek, you spared her an exhausted smile.

“The lions of Turkey! Welcome back, guys!” chimed Greg. He leaned down to embrace his cousin, but Roman was quick to push his face away. Greg didn’t dare try to hug you after that, merely waving from afar.

Frank clapped a hand on your shoulder. “Back like Odysseus. Did you guys ride out on sheep?”

Snorting, Shiv added, “Yeah, I heard you took down an entire army alone, bro.”

“That would’ve been really traumatizing if you weren’t already so fucked up,” Gerri told Roman, who simply frowned.

“Yeah, who’d you suck off to get out?” Kendall inserted.

Tom smiled widely from behind Shiv. “You were staying at Four Seasons, right? How did you guys escape? Did you—did you build a glider out of a caesar salad?”

Roman squinted at nothing in particular from behind the dark lens of his sunglasses. “Uh, you know what? It was actually fucking scary and we thought they might kill us, but yeah…” The tips of his fingers wiggled in a poor rendition of jazz hands. “Hardee-har-har, caesar salads, har-har. So funny.”

An awkward silence ensued between the small group. You scritched at your neck with a wince, wanting nothing more than a shower and a nap.

“Sorry, dude. Seriously,” said Kendall.

Roman snorted. “Yeah, no. They just raped me a little, but I’m no hero. They stuck their cocks down Y/N’s throat, too. Tell them.”

He nudged you and you shook your head tiredly. “They didn’t do that.”

“See? It got so bad that she trauma-blocked the memories. Shame on all of you,” he said, propping his fists on his hips. 

Feeling mildly guilty, Shiv had the gall to rub her hand on her brother’s shoulder. “Sorry, Rome.”

“It’s fine. I’m just tired, or whatever. It was funny, actually. Karl almost shat in a bucket and I have it on my phone, so we can fully humiliate him in our daily jerkfest later,” said Rome, tugging you to sit down with him on a large white seat.

“So how’d it all go, business-wise?” Connor asked, eyeing the both of you curiously. “Or was that forgotten?”

Before either of you could say anything, Laird stepped in, shaking his head with a wide smile. “Oh, we can’t say anything about that. Confidential stuff. But they—they did good.”

“Oh! Okay. Promising!” Connor exclaimed, shooting the both of you a grin. “Congrats, you guys.”

Unease crackled between the two of you. When you locked gazes with Roman, he merely lifted one of his shoulders in a shrug, lips pursed. The deal probably wouldn’t go through. It was all empty promises, powdered with a layer of cocaine. 

The two of you failed. And maybe that was okay.

Your hand found his, and his head knocked against yours. He drank the beer Shiv handed him, and you drank in the salty air of the sea.

After you’d finally managed to pry yourself away from Roman (or, more accurately, Roman away from you), you had yourself a nice, hot shower, and a long-overdue nap. When you drowsily blinked back into consciousness, it was early afternoon, the sun still high up in the cloudless sky. A part of you wondered how you hadn’t just slept through the entire day.

You cleaned yourself up and changed into loose loungewear, heading down a story of the yacht, where you caught sight of the Roy siblings hanging by the pool (minus Connor, who was discussing matters of the play).

Roman waved at you limply. “Hey, sleeping beauty. You were knocked out for a while. I poked you in all your ticklish spots and you didn’t even stir.”

With a sigh, you curled yourself up into the cushioned spot beside him, Shiv on your other side. On her right was Tom, who had his gaze trained on Greg on the other side of the pool—the Roy’s cousin was… getting his toes looked at by the medic? You weren’t sure, and you didn’t quite want to know.

“You know, if you snuck into my room while I’m asleep and prodded me like a corpse, at least don’t fess up to it. You weirdo,” you said once you finally tore your gaze away from Greg, wrinkling your nose at Rome fondly.

“Don’t act like you don’t enjoy it,” Roman whistled, to which Shiv let out a loud groan of complaint. 

Sloshing water from the pool drew your attention to Kendall. “You good, Y/N? Sorry about—if I was, like, insensitive earlier—”

“It’s fine,” you quickly replied. “They were never going to shoot us, anyway. It was all just… theatrics.”

Theatrics. Puppets and strings.

Kendall smiled loosely. 

“So, uh, how was DC?” you asked the older man as he leaned against the rim of the pool. “They had it on the TV for a bit when we were waiting to give our pitch.”

He nodded, water dripping from his hair. “Yeah, it was—it was pretty fucking real.”

“You did good,” Roman chirped, adjusting the sunglasses on his nose. 

Scoffing, Kendall shrugged his shoulders. “Okay. And what? I did good for—for a crackhead? For a moron on crack?” His voice was lilting with incredulity.

“Nope. You did good, Ken,” he said.

Shiv nodded. “Yeah. You killed it.”

Kendall wasn’t used to genuine praise from his siblings. It was usually edged with an insult, laced with sarcasm or ire. 

“It was Tom that, uh… that didn’t really persuade everyone quite as well,” you said, sending an apologetic grimace to Shiv’s fiance.

“You’re being too nice. He shat his pants and puked all over the floor,” Roman huffed with an amused smile. 

Tom pulled a cross face. “I didn’t—!” He drew in a sharp breath. “You know, a lot of people are saying I was deadcatting. Yeah. So like—dead cat on the table. Everyone’s looking at this dead cat, and not… not talking about your dad.”

Shiv pursed her lips. “Right. Sure, yeah, you drew the fire. Yeah.”

Both you and Roman exchanged humored looks. 

“So, what’s going on with Rhea? She’s out, right?” Roman asked a beat later.

“Mhm. Melted. But she’s agreed not to say anything publicly until after the shareholder meeting,” said Shiv.

You briefly wondered why she backed away, but chalked it up to immense financial risk and potential ethical demise of her career. Good for her. 

“Instead of Rhea, whose big hairy foot is going to slip into the glass slipper?” Roman queried. “Washington Ken here?”

His older brother clambered out of the pool, grabbing a towel to dry himself off. “Me? Uh, no. Nope. I mean—Rome, you brought the golden goose home.”

The two of you frowned at the same time. Roman let out a loud sigh.

“Could be anyone,” you said. “We’re right back to square one.”

“Yeah. Could be. I mean, why is Greg here?” Kendall shot a look over his shoulder to glance at his cousin, peering between his own toes.

Roman snorted. “I always ask that question.” Then, he patted your thigh and leaned against you, enjoying the warmth of your skin against his. “I did think—you know, when I thought they were going to vacuum out my innards and fill me with concrete or something—like… if we come through this, is there a thing where we, like, talk to each other about stuff? Normally?”

In a strange alien-baby voice, Shiv mocked, “You wanna twalk to each other nwormally?”

Kendall snickered and tacked on, “You wanna twalk abwout the big shit?”

“Yeah, let’s twalk abwout the big shit!”

“We can talk about—our feewings!”

The siblings joking around for a rare moment reminded you of when you were all younger, with missing teeth and scraped knees. When Shiv’s hair would still be done up in a ponytail and yours would be twisted into pigtails. Simpler times—when things weren’t all that simple but you, in your blissful ignorance, had thought they were. 

Though you really didn’t want to laugh, you tried your best to smother down a chuckle, making Roman send you a betrayed glare. 

“Wow. Really? You, too?” He lightly shoved you away, and you and Shiv burst into a fit of giggles when you knocked into her. “How am I the most mature one here?”

“Sowwy, Wome,” you crooned in the same alien-baby voice. He kicked at your foot, then hooked his leg over yours.

The laughter dulled away when the whirring of helicopter blades descended over the yacht.

Logan was here.

“Emotional gunship incoming,” said Kendall.

“Yeah. Send out the distress signal,” Shiv added, the smile on her lips fading away as she looked up to see her father fly down. “We’re under attack.”

Logan was smiling. It wasn’t often that he smiled. 

He greeted you with a chaste kiss to the cheek, and Roman with a pat to the shoulder. It was warm in the light—brief, but warm nonetheless.

When he hoarded the two of you, along with bum-boys Laird and Karl into a separate room, he immediately asked, “Are you two alright? I heard it got a bit tasty.”

Tasty wasn’t exactly the right word for it, you thought. 

“Mmh, we’re fine. I’ve had worse experiences at hotels before,” Roman languidly commented, shrugging it off. 

Logan tilted his head. “Did they look after you? I spoke to the White House.”

“Someone came and told us there was a warship,” you said, pursing your lips. “Felt a bit extreme.”

“Knowing us gun-handy Americans, I bet it was already there,” Roman snorted, pouring himself a drink. “The ambassador took us for a shitty lunch—you know, sorry that you were held at gunpoint, have a cheese sandwich.”

Logan gestured for all of you to take a seat. “So… on the money. What’s the situation?”

“The kids did great,” said Laird, which made Roman audibly gag. “I think, Mr. Roy, you’ll be able to go private. Eduard and his father have titular responsibility for the sovereign wealth but the president’s daughter’s husband, Zeynal, is the key guy now. The two of ‘em killed it with him.”

Shrugging, Roman said, “Well, it was clear Eduard was getting sidelined. Zeynal figured out who we were, and I thought we were gonna be taken to get a fucking chainsaw massage but… nope. We had an hour, we pitched hard, and they said they wanted in.”

“Too modest,” Laird emphasized, brows raising. “This is the perfect opportunity.”

It wasn’t. It never was.

Karl went on to talk about the numbers, and Logan seemed quite pleased. 

“That’s great. That’s fucking fantastic!” announced Roman’s father.

Rome bit down on the inside of his cheek. He winced, and scratched at his head.

“I just… I do have to say one thing, dad…”

Panic flashed across Laird’s eyes. “Roman, we’re good.”

Ignoring him, Roman said, “I mean, we had a good talk with Zeynal and he said, with his mouth, that he wanted in and that’s great and all… but if this is really serious for us, I think I actually do have to say that it feels like it’s… probably horseshit.”

A beat of silence.

Laird’s eyes twitched.

Clearing your throat, you said, “Yeah, I just wanna make it clear that they said they wanted in, but didn’t sign anything yet. I mean, it’s not like we had any documents on hand but… words mean nothing. Uncle Logan, I don’t know if it’s… really smart to bank the entire future of the company on words of drug-addled men taking a piss out of you.”

Logan’s brows raised.

“It was flaky,” Roman added. “There was a lot of shit going on.”

The head man glanced at Karl, who remained deathly quiet, and then back to you. 

“Roman, they want to rebalance their portfolio for, uh, for a variety of geopolitical reasons,” began Laird. “It’s very European-focused, and he wants to tilt Western Hemisphere. It’s all very logical! I know that it’s a lot of money, and that can be very scary, but it makes sense.”

“All due respect, Laird, but I really don’t think they give a shit about adding us to their portfolio,” you said, voice hesitant. “They know we’re in debt. They know we’re in hot water with a large sector of the company. Why would they want in at all, much less hand over a ten billion dollar investment like it’s nothing?”

Roman sucked in a sharp breath. “Sorry that we’re worrying our pretty little heads, Laird, but if they’re rebalancing their portfolio, it’d be fucking insane to do it over one ten-bil mega deal like it’s nothing.”

“Yeah, it’d be more sensible that they invest into several different markets around the globe,” you agreed. “None of this feels right.”

“It doesn’t matter what it feels like,” stressed Laird. “They said yes!”

With a frown, Roman retorted back, “Maybe, sure, they said yes! And there’s a ten or twenty percent chance that you’d make, like, a hundred million bucks with this deal. That’s so exciting! But if we miss, we could be fucked.”

Logan’s expression was hard to read. Anger? Disbelief? Disappointment? Acceptance? You couldn’t quite tell.

Swallowing hard, you said, “If we go through with this and none of it turns out to be real, we’d go straight over the edge. No votes, no political gain, no money.”

Finally, Logan murmured, “If it falls halfway through, it’d be terminal.”

A vein popped out on Laird’s head. “But if it works… just one step forward, and you’d be free.”

You couldn’t help but scoff. “Free from what? Just because we go private doesn’t mean we can do fuck all.”

Before Laird could argue back, Logan fixed his stare onto Roman. “Son?” he asked.

“Dad, I have to say, I’ve done a little bullshitting in my time—and Zenyal was a cokey, lying, 3 AM scotch and see-you-in-the-morning man. He won’t follow through.”

With a frustrated groan, Laird angrily got up from his seat.

Roman shook his head. “Dad, I wish it was real. I really fucking do. But it’s not—and we have to step away.”

When Logan turned his stare onto you, you nodded in agreement with Roman. 

“Karl?” your godfather asked.

The man buckled under the scrutiny. “You can’t lean on this,” he said. “Not now.”

His mind finally made, Logan got up onto his feet. “I’m sorry, Jaime. Keep exploring, keep talking. I cannot pile my chips on something that isn’t solid.”

“Excellent,” sighed Jaime. He looked at you, then at Roman. “You wanna talk solid? Maybe take a look at your kid there. Does he sound solid to you? And—thanks for the support, Karl. I hope you enjoy the king’s favors, because you know what you’re looking at if you don’t go private. Someone has to pay the price. Someone is going to go to jail, and I won’t be around to see it.”

With that, he dramatically took his leave. Roman tilted his head back and rolled his eyes.

“I wanna do the best thing. The most decent thing,” said Logan. His hand was on your shoulder for a moment, before he pulled away. “Tomorrow we’ll get into a discussion about our missteps and how we can indicate how sorry we are to the rest of the world. Get some rest, the both of you.”

As you clambered into bed, Roman unbuttoned his shirt and tossed it somewhere behind him. He’d followed you into the cabin, claiming that there were no available cabins left—and you knew he was lying, because you’d passed by several empty rooms on the way to yours, but you didn’t bother to protest.

“If you wanted to cuddle, you could’ve just asked.”

“Ugh, shut up.”

“You know, I overheard Tom and Shiv speaking to each other,” you said as you fluffed up a pillow to lay on. 

“Ooh. Is Tom the one getting shitcanned? No surprise there,” Roman replied, crawling next to you and laid down on his stomach, head resting on his crossed arms. 

“No. I mean, I don’t actually know who it’ll be, but—” You paused to smile, near-childish laughter falling from your lips. “I heard Tom saying he was excited for a threesome.”

“Ew! What? Ew! Tell me more,” Roman exclaimed, swatting at your arms and you shoved him back, laughing at his tone. “Oh, that’s so gross. Never pegged Tom as the type.”

“I don’t think it was Tom’s idea.”

“Ew!”

The two of you giggled about it some more, before you lolled your head over to face him. 

“Do you think it could be me?” you quietly asked. “Would Logan throw me to the sharks?”

Roman hummed. “Sometimes it feels like he likes you better than any of his own fucking kids. You’re not getting canned. It won’t make sense.”

“Hm.”

He threw an arm over your stomach. “But… it won’t be me, right?”

“I don’t know, Rome,” you told him honestly. “After today… I just don’t know. But I’ve got your back.”

The two of you basked in the comfort of each other’s quiet for a brief moment. You scooched closer to him and shut your eyes.

“You’re a really good friend, Rome.”

Something akin to an amused snort fell from his lips. “Pfft. Friend. I don’t think friends jerk off to the sound of each other’s voices. You’ve had your hand on my dick. Is that what friends do these days?”

“Friends with benefits, then.”

He brushed his lips along your shoulder, light as a feather, barely there. There was a strange ache in his chest. An ache that you also felt. The two of you ached together, unknowingly. 

“Hm. I like the sound of that. It’s like you’re my personal whore.”

“It’s a two-way street.”

“Yeah. You fuck me, I fuck you. You kill me, I kill you. Like they do in Germany.”

There it was again. What was with Roman and Germany?

“Sure. Like they do in Germany.”

It was hard to stomach breakfast with your restless nerves shooting adrenaline through your veins. You anxiously plowed through two apples and started on your third just when Logan stepped onto the lower level. Everybody’s attention piqued, their heads turning, postures stiffening up against the chairs around the dining table. 

When Gerri tentatively asked him who he had in mind as the sacrificial lamb, Logan waved her away.

“Enough. We stick together, alright? Most things don’t exist. The Ford motor company hardly exists—it’s just a time-saving expression for a collection of financial interests. But this exists, because…”

Roman leaned in close to mockingly whisper, “Family.”

“Family,” Logan finished. “We are a family. And so that’s why I think… I think the obvious choice is me.”

A ripple of shock coursed through the small group. Your eyes narrowed, unsure of what game Logan was playing at now.

“No,” Shiv vehemently said. “What? Dad, you—you can’t.”

Logan tilted his head. It wasn’t often he was told that he couldn’t. “Well, I may not be responsible, but the buck has to stop somewhere.”

The rest of the group erupted in protests. Tom, Kendall, Frank. They were all bleating sheep. Roman rolled his eyes.

“It doesn’t work,” Kendall elaborated. “When people find out Rhea isn’t coming in, we’d need stability. From you.”

Logan raised a single finger. “I need one meaningful skull to wave.” Wave didn’t seem quite the appropriate term. Chop off, maybe. Sever was a good one. “If the shareholders’ meeting was tomorrow, we lose. I need to persuade a number of big figures. So… would anyone like to say anything?”

Crackling silence. Across the table, Greg popped a fat green grape into his mouth.

“I’ll take care of whoever it is,” said Logan. “No one will be forgotten.”

Clearing his throat, Kendall ventured out, “Well, I mean, if we’re doing this, I don’t wanna spread shit around. We’re all loyal servants here. But, uh, I say this without malice aforethought, presumably, uhm, general counsel is the center of the web. Sorry, Gerri. I like you, I do.”

Logan reached out to put his hand over the blonde woman’s. “There is no one more loyal than Gerri,” he said, effectively dismissing the idea.

But you saw right through him. It wasn’t about Gerri’s loyalty. She wasn’t a big enough cut. 

“What about Frank?” Roman offered. Everyone was well aware of his disdain for the older man. “How come Frank is even here today?”

Full of ire, Logan’s old friend nodded his head. “Thanks, Roman. I see it. I could take it. I mean, I make sense.”

“Yeah. And after what he did to you? The whole boardroom coup?” Roman lifted a shoulder, convinced that Frank was the most obvious choice.

“Water under the bridge.” Logan brushed away once more. Still not big enough.

After a long while of stammering, Frank finally coughed out, “I would say objectively, considering my, uh, my indiscretion against the family makes me a less compelling sacrifice. Unlike—uhm, for instance, a loyal servant like Karl.”

Instead of defending himself, Karl decided to turn the blade right back around to Gerri. “My thing is, I guess, if Rhea is no more, then sadly, we’re back to having Gerri as named successor. So that fattens her up for the kill, in my opinion.”

“Everyone knows I was just a name on a piece of paper,” defended the woman, laughing incredulously.

“Oh, don’t put yourself down. I think you were always more than that,” scoffed Karl. “And, you know, the old copy book is a bit blotty. Expense accounts… daughter’s first class on the company coin…”

“Karl sounds good!” Tom chimed in. “Sausage thief,” he bitterly muttered, in reference to the entire Boar on the Floor debacle in Hungary.

“Gerri is theoretically kind of perfect,” said Connor.

“No,” Roman was quick to protest. “Nope. That’s bullshit. I disagree.”

Propping his joined hands on the table, Logan asked, “Why?”

“Why? Because that’s my opinion,” Roman said in a defensive manner.

“Yeah… but your reasoning?”

With a hasty glance to you, Roman hastily spun out, “Seriously, Gerri? To pay for cruises? We, what, we take out our senior woman? Haven’t we, you know—kidding, here, but—killed enough women already?”

“It’d look orchestrated. Gerri is just too obvious,” you said, wrinkling your nose. “Sexual misconduct cases three decades ago, and we’d be placing the blame on general counsel and simply wiping our hands clean? Not to mention it’d just make Waystar look more… anti-women if we went down that route.”

Roman nodded. “Listen, I think the obvious choice here is, and I hate to say it because he’s such a swell guy, but—” he made a whistling noise and pointed to the man sitting across from him, “Tom.”

“Excuse me?”

“I mean, you're the head of cruises, man.”

Kendall pursed his lips. “I gotta agree with Rome here. Tom, I fucking love you dude, but you shat the bed over Mo Lester.”

“But I was sent in there as the fucking beating man—I took the fucking beating!” 

Shiv shook the back of her head, making no effort to defend her husband.

“You got suckered in by Eavis,” said Kendall.

“I answered the questions!”

“You don’t answer the questions. Okay? That’s, like, rule one.” Kendall patted his brother-in-law’s shoulder. “I’m not beating up on you here, I’m just saying that he got a win off you and you’re kinda the face of this now.”

Lifting her head up high, Shiv said, “Tom looks logical. Cruises, document destruction. It’d be laid out for us.”

Tom’s gaze swiveled to his wife, expression utterly torn. “What?” he croaked out.

“I’m not saying you should be,” the red-head defended. “But I’m just saying you’re like family, but you’re not… actually family, which is also good. Tom, it’s the elephant in the room. We can say that!”

“No, we can’t! There’s absolutely no need to speak of the elephant in the room! There’s fifteen other fucking elephants in this room!” With an angry scoff, Tom threw both his hands up. “If you want someone who’s family but not family, what about Y/N?”

Immediately, Roman let out a high-pitched, “No! Why would it—why the fuck should it be her?”

Tom’s face contorted under the scrutiny. “I don’t know. General manager of Waystar, and goddaughter to Logan sounds like a good fucking steak to throw to the lions.” At your confused expression, Tom quickly backed down. “I’m not actually saying Y/N. I’m just saying things! It just—it shouldn’t be me. What about you, huh, Shiv?”

“Okay, fine. How do I work?” she hissed out. 

“I don’t know!” Tom exclaimed, his voice raising a few notches in volume.

Gerri pursed her lips to the side and mentioned, “I mean, if we’re saying Shiv, we could highlight witness tampering and, uh, that she was going to take over but—I don’t know, it probably wouldn’t work.”

Shiv reared back as if she’d been stung. “Uh, yeah. Too fucking right it wouldn’t work. I don’t make sense, I’ve never been inside.”

“What about both of them? Shiv and Tom? Beauty and the beast,” Roman said.

“Does Tom work?” Logan asked. “Alone?”

A long beat of silence. 

In all honesty, you thought he’d work. The missing documents were more than enough to go off of. 

But Kendall shook his head, and it flew right out the window. “Honestly, I don’t think he’s a big enough skull. No offense.”

“Then how about Tom with some fucking… Greg sprinkles?” Roman asked, gesturing to his cousin, who’d managed to polish off all the grapes on the tray. One of the workers floated by to take the tray away, no doubt to fill it back up again.

“Greg sprinkles?” parroted Greg.

Wincing, you apologetically added, “I mean, you did destroy those documents for Tom, no? It’s—it's an aided crime. It works.”

Connor laughed. “Elmo and Big Bird. I could start to see that, yeah. You could throw in a Karl or a Frank, and you’re golden.”

“What—what precisely are Greg sprinkles?” asked the Roy cousin.

“Greg sprinkles are basically a fantastic garnish for practically anyone seated at this table,” Roman replied with a faux warm smile. “Like a Tom sundae with a little Greg cherry on top.” He popped his lips and Greg frowned.

“No, I object. I do. I mean—I’m more than a sprinkle! What about you, huh? What about Roman?”

“Roman?” you asked, cocking a brow. “How would he be a good candidate?”

“Well, he’s widely known as a terrible person!”

Roman snorted. “Thanks, Toe Jam.”

“There’s another elephant in the room,” Connor interrupted. “What about I just throw myself over the side, huh?”

Shiv laughed quietly, hiding her smile behind her palm.

“Yeah, just—in return for a payout. I’m cash strapped, so just lock me into that sweet, sweet golden parachute and toss me in the volcano!” said the oldest Roy sibling. On he blathered, about how he should be the one to take the fall.

Logan glanced around. “That’s… that’s kind of you, Con. Thank you. We’ll bear it in mind.” He smiled, but it wasn’t quite authentic. It wasn’t real. Connor slumped back, going largely ignored once again.

With that, Logan stood up. “We have half an idea but… yeah. Let’s do this later.”

Off he went, through the glass doors, gone to God knows where.

You and Roman exchanged a look. His was one of relief and gratitude, yours was one of exasperation. Then, Roman leaned forward to snatch the tray of grapes away from Greg, and offered a branch of the plump green fruits to you. 

Dinner left a stale taste in your mouth. Maybe it was because you weren’t particularly fond of the served courses. Maybe it was because of the rocking motions of the boat upsetting your stomach. Or maybe—maybe it was because Logan had finally chosen his sacrificial lamb.

Kendall stood beside his father with pursed lips. Logan nodded to the sitting group. “I’ve decided,” he simply said.

Incredulity danced across Roman’s expression, brows raised. “Ken?” he asked. “Come on, really? Dad, you—no. There’s… what about the… one of the other shitfuckers?”

Your eyes darted from your godfather, to Kendall, who took a seat across from you. He met your eyes, if only for a brief moment. A part of you felt bad for him—after all, to you he was always going to be the eight-year-old boy draped in a suit far too large for him, practicing a speech in front of the mirror for a nameless award he was going to accept one day. He’d make you and Roman sit down and listen to him, four and five years of age, expectantly turning to the two of you after he was done and asking if it sounded okay. Desperate for approval, even if the assurance came from two young kids with missing teeth and bored eyes.

He was practically your brother. You averted your gaze with mild shame burning within your chest.

“Hey, it’s okay,” said Kendall. He looked around the table. “You’re all off the hook.”

Roman leaned forward and asked, uncharacteristically genuine, “You okay?”

Wordless, Kendall nodded. He was trying his best to stave away the frown tugging at the corners of his lips. There were tears warbling over his irises. 

“Yeah,” he said. “I’m good.” 

But he wasn’t. Roman knew, and you knew, too.

Karl cleared his throat. “Is it just… I don’t wanna be rude here—is it just him?”

Gerri tilted her head. “First—uh, second-born son—with his responsibilities, it wouldn’t be a hard sell.”

“Roman,” said Logan. “You’re taking over as full chief operating officer.”

An indignant noise fell from his throat. “Yeah? What with Captain Cautious back in the other room?” 

“No, no. Frank’s going to be responsible for the cruises clean up. You’re on your own. Solo.” Logan stared at his youngest son. “Can you handle it?”

Beneath the table, Roman’s jostling knee bumped into yours. “Yeah,” he unenthusiastically said. “That’s really exciting.”

Kendall spared his little brother a lopsided smile. “No, Rome. It’s great. For real.” Then, he raised a fork. “Eat up, guys. This one’s on me.”

Day three on the boat. You woke up to Roman’s arms wrapped around your midriff, his face buried in the fabric over your chest. He sleepily mumbled and whined when you dragged yourself (and, effectively, him as well, seeing as he refused to let go of you) out of bed. The two of you brushed your teeth together before you promptly kicked him out of your room so you could take a quick shower in peace.

By the time the both of you got down to have breakfast, Greg was the one to tell you that Kendall had left earlier in the morning. 

“Right to his slaughter,” you mumbled to Rome, who’s face twisted with guilt.

An hour later, you were watching Kendall on the television. Shiv and Logan were on the couches, and Roman had both his hands resting on your shoulders, kneading your muscles as if you were a stress ball.

“I have been asked to explain my role in the management of illegality at the firm and associated cover ups. And it has been suggested that I would be a suitable figure to absorb the anger and concern,” said screen Kendall. To your surprise, his words were followed by, “But…”

You and Roman exchanged glances. He stopped working at your shoulders and crossed his arms. 

“The truth is that my father is a malignant presence. He is a liar, a bully, and was fully aware of the events that had transpired on the cruise ships for many years, and made efforts to hide and cover up. He had a twisted sense of loyalty to bad actors like Lester McClintock, and a disregard for the safety of migrant workers, union and non-union workers, along with vulnerable performers and guests.”

“Fuck me,” Roman whispered. Logan silently lifted a finger to his lips to shush him.

The Kendall on screen was vastly different to the puppet Kendall you’d come to know for the past few months. He’d finally broken free of his strings.

“My father keeps a watchful eye over his entire empire, and the notion that he would have allowed millions of dollars of settlements and compensation to be paid without his explicit approval is utterly fanciful. I have with me today copies of records that show his personal sign-off. How much those of us who executed his wishes bear responsibility is for another day.” 

Shiv briefly twisted around to shoot you an utterly dumbfounded look, as if to ask you if you’d known he was going to do this. You sent her an equally befuddled expression.

“But I think…” said Kendall, “This is the day his reign ends.”

With that, Kendall got up and walked off to the side, out of the camera’s view. You couldn’t see it, for Logan was facing the screen, but there was a slight smile on your godfather’s face.

#roman roy x reader #roman roy fanfiction #roman roy smut #roman roy fluff #roman roy series #roman roy ff #roman roy angst #roman roy x you #roman roy fanfic #succession roman #succession roman x reader #roman roy #succession fanfiction #succession x reader #roman roy imagine

[buckttommy]

hot cocoa

Summary:

"I bought Eddie a ring." Bobby, to his credit, doesn't even flinch. He brings his cup of cocoa to his lips and takes a long, languid sip. He moves the mug from his mouth but doesn't put it down. Just watches Buck with a slight tilt of his head. "You freaking out?" "No. Yes." Buck gets to his feet, suddenly so full of manic energy, he feels like he could burst. "No. I don't know. I mean, why should I be? It's Eddie." or; Buck is freaking out about proposing. He gets an assist from Athena, Bobby, and. Well. Eddie himself.

This is dumb. 

Buck doesn't know what he's doing here for several reasons, starting with the fact that, despite the rapid erosion of any and all workplace norms, Bobby is not actually his dad and ending with the fact that this is not actually Bobby's problem. But the thought of going to Philip with this makes Buck want to break out into hives and, although Maddie would be willing to sit and listen to him vent and moan, she's far too busy with her own life. His only other friends might as well be family for all that they live in each other's pockets, but then there's also the fact that Bobby is... well, he's Bobby. Buck may not know what he's doing here but he knows he wants to be here and that's more than enough reason to have him sitting on Bobby's back porch with his feet perched on the patio chair, knees pulled up to his chest despite (or maybe because of) the dirty look Athena is shooting him when she looks up from her book from her spot in the living room, with a mug of hot cocoa in hand. 

Bobby studies him, curious but at ease, willing to take his time with whatever it is Buck's got cooking up in his brain. And that's a good thing because Buck has no idea where to start. He could start with the fight he and Eddie had a couple nights ago. Well, it was actually less of a fight and more of a very heated argument. On their way to work, they got started going about politics or God or something or someone that doesn't really matter anymore, and Buck could start with the way he forgot what he was saying mid sentence as he looked at Eddie—really looked at him for what felt like the first time in his life—and saw his whole future blow wide open.

He could start with the fact that he watched Eddie gesticulating with his hands out of the corner of his eye as he went on an impassioned rant, spit flinging from his lips (not that that deterred him) and thought, I want to argue with you every day for the rest of my life. Or he could start with the fact that he bought a ring six months ago, that it's been hitching a ride in the glove compartment of Eddie's truck because Eddie rides shotgun in his jeep more than he drives his own car. Or he could start at the beginning with a vow, with a promise to have each other's back, but Bobby was there or at least close by which means he's already got a SparkNotes version of that tucked somewhere in the back of his mind.

So Buck starts with the first thing that comes to mind:

"This is good cocoa."

"Thank you." Bobby grins, that little smile that says he's trying to cling to stoicism by the tips of his fingers instead of glowing with pride. Buck knows it well. Bobby nods at his mug. "Secret ingredient. Why don't you go ahead and give it a try. Tell me what it is."

"My palate is for shit."

"I know."

But Buck takes a sip because this is the game they play, this is the version of life that suits them best—the one where Bobby is his dad and Buck is his son and none of the extra details matter. Buck smacks his lips as he tries to figure out the taste. Sugar, sugar, more sugar—

"Is that cardamom?"

Bobby's eyebrows raise. He lets that smile bloom on his face and raises his mug. "I'm impressed."

"I bought Eddie a ring."

Bobby, to his credit, doesn't even flinch. He brings his cup of cocoa to his lips and takes a long, languid sip. He moves the mug from his mouth but doesn't put it down. Just watches Buck with a slight tilt of his head. "You freaking out?"

"No. Yes." Buck gets to his feet, suddenly so full of manic energy, he feels like he could burst. "No. I don't know. I mean, why should I be? It's Eddie."

"It is."

[read the rest on ao3]

#jack.txt #tv: 911 #my fic #eddie diaz #evan buckley #buddie #WHEW #Now i'm going to go watch Mad Max with my brother lol #I've missed posting fic

[whatdoeseverybodywant]

All Falls Down - Chapter 6

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“Go ‘head baby, cum on my fingers.” 

“Hey, you alright?” Kiyana jumped as she was forced out of her daydream. She snapped her head over to Josh who was standing in the doorway of their ensuite bathroom. “You been spacing out all day, you good?” He stepped closer to her, worry written all over his face. 

Since the ‘club incident’ she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Joe and she felt like shit, because here she was mad and talking about divorcing her husband and she was no better than him. She had decided to keep what happened to herself. Even when Samara asked she kept quiet. 

She 100 percent did not mean for that to happen. Everything happened so fast, one minute she was drunk and dancing then next thing she knew she was getting fingered by her husband's cousin and she sobered up almost immediately. Kiyana had chalked it up to the fact that she and Joe were both drunk and that was that. They were drunk and clearly weren’t thinking straight.  She was drunk and if she was sober none of it would’ve happened. But, she couldn’t stop thinking about it. 

Her mind also kept going back to graduation night ever since Joe brought it up. And while yes, she and Joe did some things. She didn’t technically cheat on Josh- it was still wrong considering what happened between her and Joe took place 30 minutes after she broke up with Josh. But They were kids back then  and they both promised that neither one of them would ever bring it back up especially since she got back together with Josh the next day and not to mention the fact that Joe and Josh were family. 

“Key.” She jumped again and looked at Josh. Shit I spaced out again. She thought as she cleared her throat. 

“I’m fine. Are you ready?” She asked to which he nodded his head. “Okay, I'll meet you downstairs. He nodded again before hesitating as he took a step closer to her, bending down to place a kiss on her cheek but she moved back. Clearing her throat again, she turned back towards the mirror and finished doing her make-up. 

Josh had somehow secured them an emergency counseling session with the same counselor that tried to help his mom and dad before their divorce. The whole ride to Dr. Anderson’s office, Kiyana could feel Josh staring at her every so often and would try to place his hand on her thigh and she would fling his hand off of her. 

“Are you going to at least try and listen to what Dr. Anderson has to say?” He asked once he put the car in park and she inhaled a deep irritated breath. 

“I’m here aren’t I?” Was all she said before she exited the car, slamming the door behind her. 

Dr. Anderson stared at the couple in front of him. Kiyana had scooted herself all the way down to the other end of the couch and had basically tucked her body into herself. Her body language was telling Dr. Anderson that she didn’t want to be there and she would not be open to anything he had to say. While Josh on the other hand had a semi-relaxed posture, he was nervously  tapping his fingers on his knees but he was open and he wanted to see a change. 

Dr. Anderson cleared his throat, getting the attention of the two of them. “Thank you for coming.” 

“Thank you for seeing us on such short notice.” Josh said, wiping his hands on his pants. Dr. Anderson observed Kiyana roll her eyes. 

“Now, you told me a little bit over the phone.” He said, bringing his attention back over to Josh who nodded. “There was some infidelity?” Josh nodded again and Dr. Anderson hummed and wrote something down in his notebook. “From who?”  Josh cleared his throat and raised his hand tentatively. 

“I uh- I had a four month affair. But it’s over now and if I could I would go back and never give that woman the time of day.” 

Kiyana snorted and rolled her eyes. “So hearing that your husband just said that, how does that make you feel?” Kiyana shrugged. 

“I think he’s talking out his ass and I believe everything he’s going to say today will be a load of bullshit.” Dr. Anderson nodded again and wrote another note in his notebook. 

“Okay, so tell me how was your relationship before the cheating and were there any noticeable signs of the cheating?” Kiyana inhaled a deep breath and snuck a glance over at Josh who was already looking at her. How was their relationship?  

“It was normal I guess,” She shrugged. “I mean we were together since high school but I never thought that he would actually cheat on me, you know? We’ve had our problems in the past but it’s never led to anything like this.”  Josh felt like his heart was being ripped out his chest as he watched the tears trinkle out of her eyes. 

“Were there any noticeable signs of cheating?” Dr. Anderson asked again. 

“No,” Kiyana shook her head. “Everything remained the same. I had no reason to suspect that he was cheating.”

Josh sank lower in his seat as he listened to Kiyana tell Dr. Anderson how good their relationship used to be, the more he listened, the more he felt like complete shit. All he wanted was to forget about Shanté and move forward with his wife. Because if he was being completely honest,  He didn’t know how to live without Kiyana. So he hoped and prayed that this first session with Dr. Anderson would get them back on the right path. 

Shanté stared at the house in front of her, she could actually see herself living there when Josh got rid of Kiyana and their kids. Nikkita had told her this was a bad idea but obviously she didn’t listen. She wasn’t let Josh go without a fight. He had blocked her on almost everything and this was the next step. She needed him to see that they belonged together and that she was the right one for him.  She made sure her make up was right before stepping out of the car and walking up to the front door and knocked. 

Kiyana had just left the kitsch after making her and Trin a drink so she could tell Trin all about the counseling session when there was a knock at her front door. She and Trin had stayed back at the house with Kairo while Jon and Josh took Kamari and Kaiden with them to go get food. 

“Sis, you expecting someone?” Trin asked as her and Kiyana both looked in the direction of the door with confused looks on their faces. Kiyanna shook her head and placed both of their drinks on the coffee table before going to open the door. 

“Hi, can I help you?” Kiyana asked with a friendly smile, but that smile quickly vanished as the women in front of her seemed irritated by her presence. 

Shanté rolled her eyes when Kiyana opened the door. “Yeah, is Josh here?” She asked, crossing her over her chest and Kiyana felt her heart drop into her stomach. She took a good look at the woman and immediately knew this was who her husband had an affair with. 

Shanté had a smirk on her face now. “Yeah, you know who I am don’t you?” She asked cockilly, flipping her hair over her shoulder. She looked Kiyana up and down with a look of disgust on her face. This is what he had to come home to? No wonder he decided to cheat. Shanté thought. 

Kiyana closed her eyes and took a deep breath to calm herself down. “He ain’t here.” She tried to close the door in her face but Shanté pushed it back open. “Girl, i’m warning you, get the fuck outta here.” 

Shanté pouted. “Is that anyway to talk to your kids' step-mom?” She cackled and Kiyana snapped, she landed a perfect right hook on Shanté’s jaw, knocking the other woman down to the ground. Trinity came running towards the door when she heard the commotion. She pulled Kiyana behind her and glared at Shanté. Before she could say anything Josh’s car pulled into the driveway. He rushed out of the car and over to Kiyana who pushed him away from her and stomped into the house. 

“Hi baby,” Shanté said as she pulled herself up off the ground. “You miss me?” 

IM SORRY IF THIS SUCKS 😭

NEXT CHAPTER WILL BE BETTER I PROMISE 🤞🏽

FYI: Kamari is 6

Kaiden is 3

Kairo is 2 (almost 3) months.

#wwe #jey uso #jey uso x black reader #jey uso imagine #main event jey uso #jey uso x reader #jey uso smut #wwe x black reader #jey uso fanfic #jey uso fluff #jey uso fanfiction #jey uso x fem reader #jey uso x y/n #jey uso x oc #jey uso x you #wwe x fem reader #wwe x oc #wwe angst #wwe fanfiction #jey uso angst

[starscabaret]

Hear me out…

Jaden getting addicted to reader’s smile as she becomes his own addiction

Smile Struck Introduction

pairing: yandere! Hood Drug Dealer Jaden 💸 x Fem Reader

summary : meeting of course, its a little long but enjoy n give feedback! I love Jaden omg

warnings: drugs will be involved in most of his stories… he’s a drug dealer duh! and cursing

Authors note : check out my oc profiles to learn more about jaden

Jaden liked to drive to clear his head. Of course, he could relax at home. But something about driving with no purpose other than to think and listen to music calmed him. There was no destination, that would ruin the relaxation. He just drove until he felt calm. He could think straight. Breathe easy. 

And he loved his car. He cared for it like it was his first and only child. He never let his car get dirty. Never missed an oil change. Hell, he never even let the gas go below a quarter of a tank. His car was just one of the things he was proud of. His career choice although illegal, he was proud of.

He always made sure his family was straight. He played it safe, he had little to no enemies, and his criminal record was clean. He also had respect. In his hood, people knew and respected him. He didn’t sell to kids, he didn’t go around starting fights, and he didn’t bring the cops snooping around in the area. 

It was a Monday night, people weren’t exactly blowing up his phone trying to get served, so he had time for his relaxing drive. As his drive neared its end he stopped at a nearby gas station. His car would attract attention of course, but nothing most folks weren’t used to. This was the inner city, with plenty of tricked-out cars. 

He wanted a pack of gum and a bottle of water. Also to fill his beloved car with premium gas. He loved to chew gum. Later you’d notice when you kissed him you could taste it. 

He hopped back on the highway to head home. He felt great. Things were good for him. Business was good. Life was good. His mom didn’t have to worry about much. That’s what mattered most to him. 

A smile on his face as he drove, was soon removed. He felt the powerful jolt of another car hitting his rear. He was a player but not too player for a seatbelt luckily. He was unharmed …. But his most prized possession was not. His jaw clenched as he unbuckled his seatbelt to get out of his car and assess the damage. Oh, and curse the other driver the fuck out! 

They were 100 percent at fault. They rear-ended him. He would never drive so recklessly not in his baby! When he stepped out of his car he was bombarded by you.

“OH MY GOD, ARE YOU OK??? IM SO FUCKING SORRY PLEASE DO NOT CALL THE POLICE!!!”, you screamed frantically with tears streaming down your face. In your disheveled state, you grabbed him, hands all over his chest checking for injuries. 

Wow, you were breathtaking even in tears and in shock. He had expected some ugly ass old man had hit his car. Not you, the most gorgeous woman he had seen in a while. He had to get on your good side. So instead of cursing you out as previously planned he grabbed your hands and held them to his chest, “I’m fine, are you ok? no cops sweetness I promise.”

“Oh hello, my goodness, yes I’m ok, but I’m sure my car isn’t, and I don’t even want to think about what I’ve done to yours.” You replied hands still in his against his chest.

“Don’t worry we’ll get it fixed, from the looks of it mine is still drivable… but yours … you should probably call your man to pick you up.” He was fishing, he hoped and prayed you didn’t have a man. And even if you did, no one he couldn’t get rid of.

“Uh no actually I don’t have a boyfriend, I’ll call my dad, he’s going to kill me …fuck.” With that realization, you began to sob. Cute, you were a little crybaby. 

“Shh shhh, I can drive you, and I can get it towed I know a guy it’s free.” He cooed; he already didn’t like to see you cry. Especially if he could fix it. He had tons of connections, none with a tow truck though, no worries he’d pay. 

“No that’s too much, I fucked your car up, and now you’re helping me, you should be getting my information and taking my dumb ass to court.” You replied. 

“Oh yeah that, let’s exchange information, I just need your name and number my insurance company can sort the rest out.” That was a lie, he didn’t plan on filing a claim, and he had enough cash on him to cover the repairs. But he did need your name and number. 

“Of course, it’s f/n l/n, 000-000-0000” you spoke while he inserted it in his phone and texted the tow company. 

“Got it, my guy is on the way with the tow truck, oh and I know a nice repair shop it’ll be the cheapest I told him to take it there. I’m sure I can get you a low price.” Now that was the truth, his uncle had one of the best repair shops in the city. The price would be free because he would pay and not tell you. 

“My gosh I can’t thank you enough sir, you are so nice, especially considering the circumstances” You couldn’t believe the kindness and mercy of this handsome … very handsome stranger after you hit his very expensive car. 

“No problem, it’s what I do. You can call me Jaden, not sir, sweetness. Hop in, I’ll take you wherever you need.” He replied with a smirk. 

And that’s when he saw it…. Your smile. Your smile was so big, bright, and beautiful. He swore he almost fell over. Your smile was natural he could tell you never had braces but cared for your teeth. They weren’t fake like the veneers lots of girls would get these days, they were natural in color. He swore he could count all 32 of them. 

You were gorgeous before. but something about that smile. It did things to him, his mind, his body. He knew he would do literally anything to keep that smile on your face. Whatever it took, whatever he could do. And if it was something he couldn’t, he’d become a better man for you so he could. 

He had to see you again. He had to make you want him like he wanted … no needed you. Even though you had nearly demolished the back side of his first love, and when he thought about the damage, he damn near threw up. You had given him the opportunity to insert himself into your life, so maybe it wasn’t so bad after all. 

So, as he drove to your apartment, you two talked, starting to get to know each other. You both liked what you saw and what you heard. He realized you were new to the city, no close friends, or relatives. No way to get to and from work while your car was being repaired. So, he offered. Of course, at first, you declined it was too much. You barely knew each other, he had already done so much, what about his job? He reassured you and told you he owned his own business it was fine, what else would you do? So, you agreed. He was elated, now he could see his sweetness every day. At least for a little. But no, it wouldn’t end there, he was smooth. He’d ask you out before your car was fixed. Fuck that he’d ask you as soon as possible. He didn’t mean to rush things. He just knew you were perfect for him. 

The first day he came to pick you up, you texted him to honk and just text he was outside. But he was a gentleman at least for you. He came to your door and knocked. You were shocked but smitten by the gesture. Even more so when he had breakfast ready for you in his car, opened all the doors for you, buckled you in, and asked what you wanted to listen to. That same evening, he asked you on a date at the end of the week. To which you agreed. You were excited, he was kind, and so many other things. Your rides to and from work were filled with laughs and smiles from both of you. 

On that Saturday evening, you two went on your first date. He made sure to trap all week so he could spoil his darling. He took you to a very nice restaurant. He sat beside you in the booth, not across from you. He liked to be closer to you. His large body blocked you in and you couldn’t even be seen by outsiders he liked that. Your outfit was beautiful. For work, you still looked stunning, but you dressed more formally, not yourself. But here with him on this date, you let your creativity flow in your outfit. He was fly, and you matched it. It wasn’t revealing but man did it arouse him, you always did.

At the end of your date at a mom-and-pop ice cream shop. Where of course once again you insisted on paying, he frowned at you and pulled out a stack of cash. Your displeasure disappeared once you two were at the table sharing ice cream. You even used the same spoon. You didn’t realize it, but he did, it was intentional he was even feeding you. He made sure you got a spoonful first, so he could taste you off the spoon. When he drove you to your apartment and came to a park you turned to him, “Jaden, I don’t want to seem fast, or like a hoe or something but I really like you. Thank you for everything, from my car to the perfect date.”

If he could Jaden would dap himself up. He knew he had a game. But with you, he had to be careful, you were special. He turned to you and spoke up, “It’s no problem sweetness, any man would do it for the woman he’s interested in.” He said as he grabbed your hand from the console intertwining it with his and kissing the back of it. 

Whew, your pussy was on fire. You had to get out of this car before he had you in the backseat. Then he’d really think you’re a hoe. Of course, he wouldn’t but you thought so. “Jaden uhm I should probably head inside, would you … would you like a kiss?” You could barely get it out before he grabbed the back of your neck kissing you deeply. You were starstruck, while he seemed so calm, so reserved. But inside he was crazy for you. The kiss was perfect, your lips and his lips together sent a chill down his spine and made this dick throb. He willed it down. He would be good to you. 

“Goodnight y/n, let me walk you up, I’ll text you when I get home. You will call me before you go to sleep, sweetness?”, He asked. 

“Of Course, Jaden,” you replied. 

He planned on making you some part of his life the day you met but this week and tonight’s date sealed the deal, and if that wasn’t enough, you smiled at him with all 32 of your teeth before you closed and locked the door to your apartment. There it was that smile; damn he was absolutely sprung. 

#exophelia #darling core #darlingcore #yandere vent #obsessive love #yandere thoughts #yanderecore #yandere #actually obsessive #obsession #actually obsessed #obslove #obsessive yandere #obsessivecore #obsessive thoughts #soft yandere #black reader #black fanfiction #black fem reader #black fem!reader #ndere x you #yandere x reader #yandere oc #yandere imagines #yandere x darling #yandere oc x reader #tw yandere #fem reader #yandere insert #fluff

[ughdontbeboring]

only you.

Thor x WoC reader

reader comes home a little tipsy and Thor has to remind her, she’s the ONE.

Warnings: Slightly smutty? Insecurities, Thor is that man. Reader is tipsy but she’s totally ok with her man dickin her down.

note: this is my big story back, I don’t think I’ve posted in like a year? not sure, also this is super rushed so not super proud but I had to get it out my head. Also there’s going to be an alternative version of this because I couldn’t decide how I wanted this to go. That will be posted in a week or 2. I have a hard time writing Thor idk way, he’s one of my favs but such a complex character I think. Also only one mention of readers complexion but can be read by anyone.

don’t give permission for my works to be used in any form. If you likes it reblog, share it, love it all that good shit.

⚡️

He watched her as she stumbled slightly in her high heels to where he laid in their bed. How she had managed a whole night out with Val, Natasha and the other women in those things he’d never understand. She made it look so effortless, the way her hips and loose hem of her mini dress swayed with every step she took. Women were definitely magical creatures. His heart thumped against his ribs a little harder as he watched his lovely little woman approach. 

Even in the low lit room mostly covered in darkness he could make out every detail of her, maybe it had nothing to do with the ability to see as much as it did with the fact that he had memorized every part of her years ago. 

She was wearing a brown chain mail dress as she called it, her hair down and loose, very little makeup and matching high heels. How Thor had allowed her to leave him without taking her on sight, he could only make sense in her power over him. What she promised when she returned to him that night if he allowed her to leave unscathed by his need.

She stood at the side of the bed with her arms cross her chest, a slight frown on her beautiful face as she stared down at him. Thor lay slightly sitting up against the reinforced headboard. 

“What is wrong my love” He questioned up at her with genuine curiosity though he had a sneaky suspicion of what kind of mood she may be in. Even if she didn’t admit it, he was sure he knew what she’d need tonight. 

“I-you-“ She started before being cut off by her own hiccup.

“Do you need water little one?” 

“Yes, No! I- no listen” she started again before her voice drifted off and her eyes started to shift lower along his naked chest and torso before landing on the thin cool sheet that hardly did anything to cover his muscler thighs and slightly soft cock. 

She bit back a moan as Thor watched her pretty thick brown thighs clench within arms reach of him. His stomach fluttered slightly at the scene before him and at the sweet scent that started to fill the room. 

She seemed to focus on something she wanted to say to him before squaring her shoulders.

“Did-uh did you love that one uh barmaid on that planet..uh the..-“ she started determinedly as her buzzed mind would allow, her eyes rolling up as she tried to remember. 

“No” Thor answered swiftly and honestly as he cut her off. He was so sure it almost made her angry at him and it annoyed her more because it’s not even something to be upset about she should be happy he seemed so sure but her tipsy mind wasn’t fully on track yet.

She sucked her teeth and rolled her eyes at him. 

“Wait, you didn’t let me fisnish you-you don’t know which one-“

But Thor was quick as he pulled her over his lap and into the empty space next to him, his large body quickly finding his place between her soft thick thighs. 

They both let a groan slip as their bodies came in contact. Thor’s bare cock between their bodies, laid snuggly against her panty covered cunt. The wet patch his veiny shaft rocked up and over making him groan. 

“It does not matter, I’ve loved none of them” he spoke truthfully again without hesitation, one arm holding him up as his eyes followed the moment of his cock. 

She felt like her world as spinning as she looked up at him. She knew she shouldn’t have but the mention of significant others, their ex’s and flings left her mind to wonder too much about Thor’s long life. It was something she really never let herself focus on in the few years they’d been together. But even the girls night out and plenty of shots couldn’t shake her mind from Thor’s earlier comment in front of everyone, about a planet so bizarre, it led to the new information of a one night stand. 

“Not even, not even, that one Loki said uh the” she tried. Remembering when she first met Loki, he had tested her by trying to rile her up with talk of Thor’s past lovers. Only to apologize shortly after when he realized for himself she was the one, the only one for his brother. But now that information did nothing for her jealousy. 

“No” was Thor’s firm answer as his body slowly rocked into hers harder. His deep eyes raking over her. She looked like a vision. Her hair all around her surrounding her head like an halo, breast basically coming out of her dress from the lack of a bra. Her chest heaving. She was an Angel, Thor was sure the only one in all the universe and she was his. 

“Thor! You’re not letting me finish!” She kicked her feet very childishly causing Thor to bite his lip to stop from laughing as he stared down at her. Nothing but amusement and love in this bright blue and brown eyes. “Ok the one from-“

“No. No. No and no, little dove the answer to that question will always be no” he said cutting her off again. 

His large hand grips her face, as the other continued to hold himself above her, as she stares up at him completely doe eyed and utterly in love despite her little outburst. He loved her all ways but this way, so open and so needy was one of his favorites, his cock twitched and thicken at the sight and feel of having her fully willing for anything he’d do beneath him. 

“Little queen, it matters not who you mention, who anyone could mention from over the centuries of my life. I have loved none of them, even when I thought it could be love you’ve came into my life and shown me how foolish of a God I was to ever consider that love” he spoke truthfully. 

The tears swelled in her eyes as she took him in, her fingers dancing all over his face before tracing her thumb along his bottom lip before he started to speak again. 

“Because in all these centuries, in all the galaxies, in all the universe I have ever only loved you, I could never have loved another, not when your love exist and even in death it could not fade” 

“Thor-“ she sobbed lightly. 

“Shhh little queen, I know, let me remind you there is only you for me, there is only we” Thor spoke against her fingertips, before sucking her thumb softly into his wet mouth and rolling his hips into her. She moaned at the contact of skin to skin, she hadn’t even notice Thor rip her thong, his veiny cock pushing up along her bare wet cunt. 

“I am yours completely” Thor said before he swiftly buried his thick cock in her til the hilt, her eyes rolled back as her loud gasped filled the quiet room. 

#thor #thor odinson #ughwrites #Ughthor #thor odinson fanfiction #thor odinson imagine #thor odinson smut #thor odinson x reader #thor odinson x y/n #thor odinson x you #thor x reader #thor smut #thor odison imagine #Chris hemsworth #chris hemsworth fanfiction #chris hemsworth x you #chris hemsworth x reader

[kriffingstars]

Johnny MacTavish; the other man

pairing: Johnny MacTavish x Price!Reader summary: The MacTavish sisters take things into their own hands, and Johnny gets jealous warnings: verrrrrry slight age gap (I imagine reader to be around 20, Johnny is 26), tiniest bit of angst if you squint a/n: i hope this makes up for the lack of follow up, once again asks are always open. if you want to be added to the tags just let me know :) enjoy my beauties

None of the boys are particularly fond of the more ceremonial side of being in the military. The uniforms are too hot, itchy and Gaz has already complained about the way the trousers are splitting him in half.

The nice aspect of it, is that they get to show their families a small part of what they do, even if it’s a carefully constructed show with lots of procedure.

Price can see you mingling with a few of the other soldier’s families. You’ve always been the most personable of the Price’s, taking your mother’s kindness and magnifying it tenfold.

Currently you’re in deep conversation with two ginger girls, the three of you chatting animatedly. Price feels himself smiling as he watches you, he doesn’t really get to see this side of you very often, all your cousins are much younger, and you rarely bring friends round to the house. He’s told you many times, you’re not just a guest, it’s your home and he expects you to treat it as such.

You know it’s your home, but you also see how your Uncle is with new people, and you like to keep the sanctity of your home just that. A sanctity.

“You know you’d be perfect for my brother, he needs someone with a head on their shoulders,” Maisie mentions, switching their conversation in a complete one-eighty.

“Ah, maybe.”

It’s only awkward for you, Maisie and Amelia have no clue that you were in fact sleeping with said brother, not even three weeks ago, and spent most of the time in between texting him.

“He’d be head over heels for you trust me,” is all that Amelia adds to the conversation. From the twenty-minute conversation you’ve had with the two MacTavish girls, you’d learnt Amelia was the older of the two, and slightly more reserved than the youngest, Maisie.

If you thought Johnny was out-going, he had nothing on his baby sister. All big smiles, loud laughs with the biggest heart.

You can see what Johnny says when he tells you he has his work cut out, being the protective older brother.

Maisie’s energy is infections, and her comments about her brother’s potential affections are quickly forgotten as she moves the conversation onto this new band she’s been listening to. Before you know it she’s added a few of their songs to your playlist and you’ve promised to text her what you think of them.

The shrill sound of a bugle cuts off the conversation between the three of you, noting the start of the ceremony and presentation.

It’s nice to see three of the four men parading in all the finery. Ghost for good reason isn’t there, you figured that his mask is not part of the official uniform. You sigh, thinking how it must be a shame that the man can’t be included in the festivities.

The man in question doesn’t, he’s currently in his sweats enjoying the peace and quiet and reading his book, lounging in the now quiet rec room.

Your Uncle sneaks you a subtle smile across the square when you catch his eye. Your face beaming back at him brings him a joy he’ll never admit to.

He knows you’re not his daughter, but you might as well be. He’s resigned himself to the fact that he’ll never have kids, he’s getting older and no closer to meeting someone to spend his life with.

He doesn’t mind. His time at home is spent catching up with old friends, and enjoying your company. You’ve been confused as his daughter a few times in the village and he hasn’t bothered to correct them as of late. He knows you don’t mind, you go as far as calling him your third parent, yes, it’s mainly in jest, but the sentiment is there.

By the time the service is over, all the family and friends in attendance descend on the square to take photos and congratulate the people they’re here for.

You and the two women in tow, make your way over to the three men, lost in conversation over Gaz’s continuous complaints about just how uncomfortable he is.

“Johnny!” is all the older man hears before the Scotsman is out of his vision, being nearly bowled over by a flaming red head flying at break-neck speed.

Soap’s spinning the girl in a circle as he laughs with her, over something inaudible to him.

This time it’s your turn to congratulate John, as he pulls you into his side, checking that you weren’t too bored and laughing when you say how impressive he was.

A call of your name breaks the quiet conversation the two of you are having, it’s Amelia beckoning you over two where the three MacTavish’s are standing.

“This is Johnny, honestly you two would be great together, I think you would really get along,” Maisie butts in again, wiggling her eyebrows as she mentions the getting along.

Oh the irony of the whole situation. Thank god Uncle John can’t see your face because there’s currently a shit eating grin adorning your face.

Johnny’s spluttering, his sisters take this as him being astounded by the woman that’s in front of him, you know better. His eyes aren’t glued to yours, he’s looking slightly behind you, where no doubt your Uncle is glowering at him.

Usually he’d step in, but he’s heard stories about both of Soap’s sisters and there’s no way he’s facing their wrath. He knows how tormented Soap is by the two of them on the daily, even when he’s in a different country. He doesn’t trust that the two of them would turn their focus towards him for interfering in true love.

“We’re going out for dinner later, you should join us!” is the next thing that’s uttered and you try to make your excuses, how you’re actually already going for dinner with the man stood behind you, bit it’s too late.

Fortunately, or unfortunately (it depends on who you ask), John gets invited along too, which is how you find yourself at dinner in a nice country pub as a five, instead of two.

You’re conveniently sat next to Johnny, whilst his two sisters bombard John with questions, many of which are brushed off with a quick ‘I can’t answer that I’m afraid’ but he makes up with plenty of stories of all the times Soap has done something stupid on base, and a few stories from deployments.

“This is not the kind of dinner I was talking about,” Johnny murmurs to you, when he notices his sisters have his CO distracted.

That earns him a gentle slap to his stomach as he laughs at the incredulous look plastered on your face.

“You look beautiful,” is how he follows up his comment, drinking in the way you look in the dim light of the pub.

“So do you, I mean handsome, I mean not that you aren’t beautiful,” you reply stumbling over your words, because god, the tension is palpable.

His hand finds yours underneath the table, stroking slowly over your knuckles, as he decides to finally save Price from his sisters’ rambling.

You’re surprised at how good he is at keeping his cool, you’re sure your face is radiating so much heat that everyone else at the table can feel it.

You’re also surprised at how much you like the thrill, maybe it’s just because Johnny is holding your hand, or maybe its the fact that you know you’re doing everything your Uncle told you not to.

You take a moment to think about how different things could be if John was supportive of the two of you. Maybe you’d actually be dating the man sat on your left, and you’d be holding his hand above the table, maybe his arm would be slung around the back of your chair as you lean into him. He’d toy with your hair slightly, to keep himself from being too distracted from the conversation he was engaged in.

You’d leave the pub hand-in-hand, stealing kisses from each other, as you walked behind the rest of the guests. They’d all be staying in the house with you all. John would make up the sofa bed for Johnny’s sisters, and you’d fall into bed together, stealing kisses and whispering sweet nothings.

You’re snapped out of your daydream by Amelia asking if you’re currently seeing anyone, a mischievous glint in her eye.

“Oh…not really,” is all you can manage, embarrassed to be interrupted from the tangent your mind had taken you on.

“Not really doesn’t mean no! Spill the beans,” Maisie teases, and you realise you’re completely in the shit.

“There’s this one guy I’ve been talking to I guess. He’s not from here, but it could work out.”

You notice the shift in Johnny straight away, you feel the absence of his touch immediately as he drops your hand. Price raises his eyebrow, of course you’ll be grilled when you get home about this mystery man.

“Didn’t know you were seeing anyone,” Johnny mutters, but it’s loud enough for everyone to hear.

You’re quick to use the slight pause to change the subject, bringing up the first time the two of you met, much to his sisters’ glee and his despair. Even John chortles, thinking back to Soap sputtering over the huge mistake the man made upon your first introduction.

“Seriously Johnny?!” squawks Amelia through her tears.

“They even look alike, I figured out they were related as soon as they were stood next to each other, and this is the first time we’ve met!” is the follow up, through more laughter.

Dinner finishes quickly after that, the two men splitting the bill, not allowing any of their companions to even see it.

John bids his goodbye’s to Amelia and Maisie, before telling Soap he’ll see him on base tomorrow, slightly later than usual. Before you can make your way home the two women are pulling you into hugs, before letting you know they’ve set up a group chat for the three of you.

Johnny’s goodbye is short and sharp, gone is the playful man you spent most of the evening with.

It’s only when you’re lying in bed later, rehashing what went wrong that you realise Johnny thinks you were talking about someone else.

I was talking about you, you dolt x

Your phone starts buzzing, and you don’t even need to look to know who’s calling.

“Had me sweating for a minute there, Sweets. Thought I was going to have some random bloke coming for my head.”

You can hear the relief in his voice as he lays the charm on real thick. Between his accent and the things he mumbles down the phone you think your heart might explode.

The crush you have on this man is debilitating, if you can even call it a crush that is. It’s been on and off about two months of talking to each other, and you know that you’re beginning to get in deep with him.

“Sweets, you there?” his voice echos softly through the speaker on your phone, tentative in case you’ve accidentally fallen asleep on the phone. It wouldn’t be the first time.

“Yeah, I’m here. Just thinking, sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, what you thinking?2

“Just about us, you…” your voice trails off, you’re tired now, inhibitions slipping a little as your head feels slightly heavier on the pillow.

“Yeah? Anything good?” you can hear the grin he has plastered on his face as he talks.

“It’s all good. I like you, y’know.”

That’s the first time you’ve admitted your feelings for him. You know he knows, and he’s made it very clear he has feelings for you, but hearing you say it has him bouncing off the walls with glee. It’s the best medicine to fix the conflicting thoughts he’d had about the whole thing once you admitted you were seeing someone.

“I do, I like you too. Like really like you.”

The conversation turns soft once again, and before he knows it he’s whispering goodnight to you, as your gentle snores crackle through the receiver, half muffled by the duvet you cocooned yourself in.

Taglist: (please let me know if you’d like to be added, all requests from my taglist will get priority)

@cassiecasluciluce @misshoneypaper @unknownduck0 @iwannabealocalcryptid @darkangel4121 @clear-your-mind-and-dream @mothiing @pepsicolacoochie @samanthamarkle92

#john mactavish x reader #john mactavish headcannon #johnny mctavish x reader #johnny mactavish headcannon #john mctavish x reader #soap mactavish #soap x reader #soap mactavish x price!reader #cod mw soap

[joekeeryswife]

For you, For her - e.m

hello angels! i hope everyone’s doing well. here is part two to deadbeat dad (the eddie version, steve version out soon!) i’m really excited about this one and i hope you all enjoy reading it🩷 if you enjoy rockstar!dad (or even just regular dad!Eddie) send me some requests!🩷

(here is the Steve alternative ending!)

taglist(feel free to add yourself🩷): @theshireisonfire @thankingjoe @livsters @sadbitchfangirl @hellfire1986baby @ladyapplejackdnd @alexxavicry @juleshadalittlelamb @hollandweather @lovurry @bibieddiesgf @plk-18 @m-rae23 @hargrovesswifee @missabsey @chxrrySprxut @idkjoequinn @plutosllama @emma77645 @birdysaturne @thefrontofmymind @pbs-theundeadmaggot @keirasreplies @tiannamortis (if there’s a line through your name i cannot tag you for some reason, make sure your tags are on. also lmk if you want to be deleted from my taglist 🩷)

"hey, what's got you up so early?" Eddie's manager Steph said leaning against the kitchen side as she drank her coffee. it was 8am and she was surprised to see him up this early. let alone up, dressed and ready to leave the house. he used to wake up every afternoon with a different groupie leading them to the front door where he promised to call them which he obviously never did.

but Steph hadn't been at his house, which he shared with Gareth, since Eddie went to your house to see Penny. she had absolutely no idea what he was doing for himself, for his daughter, for you. he hadn't even slept with anyone since he spoke to you.

"i've got to go see my daughter" it had been almost two months since Penny's party and he had been bettering himself for her. he would turn up practically every weekend to take her out and do something she'd like. sometimes he'd even come round on the wrong days just to spend time with her, it made Penny's face light up when he actually showed up when he said he would and it was beautiful to see.

"no, you can't go today we have that party later and we all want you there" Steph shouted as she watched him slip on his shoes and grab his keys off the side. he stopped and turned to her, Eddie was very easily influenced but he knew if he didn't turn up that his girl would be stopped from seeing him and he couldn't handle that.

"i'm sorry Steph but right now my kid is the only thing i care about, enjoy the party" with that he walked out the front door leaving her stunned. Eddie Munson never ever turned down a party.

the last time Eddie went to a party was the day of his daughters birthday, he knew it was horrible of him and he honestly hated himself for doing that but he had stopped partying, he had stopped drinking and doing drugs which had shocked everyone. his friends, his family, the press and he was proud of the person he was becoming.

after the situation which happened a week after Penny's birthday he went to Wayne and was shouted at by him for hours. Wayne was furious that he even have the audacity to show his face after what he had done to his daughter and after he told Eddie that he was ashamed of the person he had become, he changed up real fast.

he went home that night and listened to the voicemail Penny had left him 'daddy. are you coming to my party, i miss you' it had broke him. he listened to the voicemail over and over again which made him sob for hours. his girl wanted to see him and he failed, he failed her. after hearing her say that she missed him, he knew that he could become a better person and he did.

it had surprised you to see Eddie standing there a week later, dressed casually and he explained to you that he was trying his best and you appreciated that. yes it took a little bit of time before Penny opened up to him again but he was grateful that you had given him the chance to see her, to tell her how sorry he was.

he didn't want to be known as the dad that didn't care because he did. he was grateful that Corroded Coffin had gotten the recognition they deserved, but he wishes some days that they hadn't so none of this would have happened.

he wished that things would go back to how they were when you were all a family, you made time for each other, loved and cared for each other and he was highly at fault. he wasn't showing you or Penny love, care or affection and it was his fault your relationship broke down. that's one of his biggest regrets.

the knock on your front door pulled you out of your thoughts. it was early, 8:32am to be exact, and the only person that you knew was coming round was Eddie. but that wasn't meant to be until later, Penny wasn't even awake yet.

you opened the door and saw Eddie standing there with a small, anxious smile on his face. "i know it's early but i thought it would be nice if we all spent the day together. we could let Penny pick, only if you want to. if you're busy i can come back later when i was meant to-" you shook your head and smiled.

"i think that's a lovely idea" you moved to the side so he could come in. Eddie let you and Penny stay in the house when the two of you broke up, he had some sort of a brain and you were grateful you did stay there. it was filled with beautiful memories and you would hate it if you did have to leave.

"she's not awake yet but she should be soon, she's gonna be really happy to see you" you smiled, Penny couldn't really remember what it was like when Eddie was here but all she wanted was for Eddie to come home so you could be a family again. she wanted to see her dad every day, she wanted him to be here with you and her.

Eddie sat down on the sofa and you sat next to him, keeping a bit of distance. "look i need to talk to you, it’s easier to do it now because she’s not awake" this made your smile drop and anxiety fill your body, he took a deep breath, obviously thinking about how he was going to say whatever he was thinking.

"i'm really sorry for everything i've done these past couple of years. i've been an awful person and i've hurt you both and i'm really grateful you're giving me a second chance to be Penny's dad" he grabbed ahold of your hands and looked into your eyes.

it was like every time you looked into them you were mesmerised, his eyes were one of your favourite things about him and you were happy when you saw Penny had the exact same eyes he did.

"i'm sorry i left and i'm sorry for not being there for you, i'm sorry for not being there for Penny and i hope you know that i have changed and i am never leaving her again. i was honestly the biggest asshole and there is nothing i regret more than how i treated you both, especially you. you've done it all on your own and you've raised her so well. you are an incredible mum" you smiled again, grateful that he was taking accountability for his actions, you were also grateful for the small praise he had said.

getting told you were a good mum always put your mind at ease. there was always the thought of you not doing it correctly but parenting didn't come with a book. you had to figure it out on your own and to get reassurance just made you feel like you were doing it your best and apparently, according to Eddie, you were an incredible mum which you were and he meant every word.

"thank you for saying that ed's" Eddie's cheeks flushed at the nickname, he loved you. he really really loved you and his biggest regret was leaving you for the band. he wished he treated you differently, he wished he could go back in time and talk things out with you and listen to what you had to say, he wished he showed you both the love and affection you deserved but he didn't and he hated himself.

he was brought up by Wayne who had told him to respect women and when he left he knew he was wrong. but he was easily manipulated into doing things even if he didn't want to like the partying, the groupies, the drinking, the drugs and when you do them a few times you get hooked and he couldn't stop.

he done them to be well liked, he done them to fit in with a crowd of people he hated, and now he had finally stopped doing them he felt like himself again. he felt like a person and he could actually hold a conversation without itching for the alcohol or the drugs.

"she's really sweet y/n and thank you for giving me a second chance to be her dad. i can’t describe how much it means to me" you squeezed his hands as a sign or reassurance. the both of you turned to the look at the stairs when you heard Penny was finally awake and walking down them, rubbing her eyes as she tried to wake herself up.

"morning sweetheart" you said as she walked into the living room, she yawned and looked to see both you and Eddie sat next to each other. "daddy" she squealed, she was definitely awake now. she ran to him and jumped into his lap making you pull your hands away so the two of them could hug.

"what are you doing here" she said as she wrapped her arms around his neck. you watched the two of them and your heart melted, it was adorable. "well i missed you so so so much i couldn't stay away. so me, you and mama are spending the whole day together and you get to decide what we do" Eddie ran his hand up and down her back as she cuddle into him.

"really?" her eyes widened and excitement filled her small body. her mum and dad would be spending time with her for the first time in forever, literally. it had been years since you and Eddie had spent a whole day with Penny and honestly you were excited.

she picked up her head from his chest and saw him nod. "what did you want to do then honey?" you asked, there were two obvious places she would pick. either the beach or the zoo, Penny loved the beach but she also loved the zoo so you were sure she would pick one of those.

"please can we go to the zoo? i want to see the giraffes" they were her favourite animals which Eddie actually didn't know. "well, why don't i help you get ready, that means mama can get ready and we will be out the door quicker?" Eddie looked at you and then back at Penny who was smiling widely.

"you still remember how to bath her?" you joked which Eddie only nodded. he remembered but it had been years since he had been this sort of environment. "i'll run her bath, you just have to wash her and wash her hair" with that you left Penny and Eddie downstairs to run her a bath.

"you excited baby?" he pushed her hair out of her face and kissed her cheek, he missed moments like this. she nodded, her dimples showing as she smiled. Eddie was excited to spend the day with the both of you, he hoped that you could act like a family again.

-

"mama, daddy look there's a baby giraffe there" she squealed, Eddie was holding Penny who was pointing to the baby giraffe who had just come outside from the enclosure was with its mum, she was filled with excitement. "yeah honey, it's a baby giraffe. isn't it cute" you stood next to her and stroked her cheek.

"it's so cute" she said, her eyes never leaving the two animals. "what makes them your favourite animal angel?" Eddie turned his attention to look at Penny who was practically mesmerised with the giraffes.

"they are just so cute daddy. oh and mama told me they are friendly" as Eddie listened to Penny talk he realised how much he had actually missed, when he left you Penny could only say a few sentences and most of the time he would be speaking to himself but now he could hold an actual conversation with her.

"that's right. they are friendly" he had absolutely no idea if they were friendly or not but if it made Penny happy knowing they were friendly he'd go along with it. "do you want to go see any other animals Penny? or do you want to stay here for a bit longer" the three of you had been staring at the giraffes for at least thirty minutes.

"can we stay here just for a bit? i just want to look at the baby for a little longer" you looked at Eddie who nodded "yeah we can. but only for a little bit though, we have other animals to see remember" he tickled her tummy making her laugh loudly and fall back into him.

the three of you stood watching the small giraffe run around the huge open field for a few more minutes before you and Eddie heard someone speak to him. "i'm sorry to interrupt you man but my son is the biggest fan of Corroded Coffin, would you mind if he got a picture with you? i know you're with your family but this would mean the world to him"

the two of you turned around as the man spoke and you smiled at his son who looked like he was holding himself back from running to hug Eddie.  he looked no older than 7 with his dad stood next to him and looked mesmerised by Eddie actually being in his presence.

the father held a grey polaroid camera "of course, you don't mind do you?" Eddie turned to let you hold Penny whilst he took a photo. "not at all" you held Penny who was still looking at the giraffes running around the field whilst Eddie knelt down next to the small boy.

"what's your name bud?" you heard him say as he hugged the young fan. "Ozzy" he seemed shy but watching the interaction was adorable. "woah sick name. i assume you're named after Ozzy Osbourne who is my personal favourite"

you turned back to look at the open field and kissed Penny on the cheek, you could hear Eddie talking to Ozzy and his dad. Ozzy and his dad were thanking Eddie for taking the time out of his day to even acknowledge them, let alone have a conversation and take a few photos with them.

"thank you again Eddie, you're amazing" with a quick hug from Ozzy and a handshake from his dad the two of them left to allow Eddie to get back to the two of you.

"he was adorable" you said as Eddie stood next to you. he nodded agreeing, opening his arms so he could take Penny back "yeah he was" he held Penny in his arms and kissed her forehead a few times. she didn't even feel the affection because she was still infatuated with the giraffes.

-

after a long day at the zoo you and Eddie decided it would be best if you went back to yours for dinner which had happened to be one of the best dinners any of you had. it was just the three of you being together, spending time with each other as you ate and talked about anything that came up.

it was nearing Penny's bedtime, spending the whole day with Eddie had made you realise your feelings for him hadn’t gone away. before he left he was an amazing dad, even if he was tired from work he would make the effort to look after Penny whilst you were able to do a few things for yourself and now that he had finally realised what he’d been missing out on he was becoming that amazing dad again.

you hated when you would see the newspapers where Eddie and a random groupie would be on the front cover, white powder on his nose with his already pale skin looking even paler. he just didn’t look like your Eddie and at that point he wasn’t anymore and it broke your heart.

you missed when the two of you would put Penny to bed and would watch her sleep in comfortable silence, she always looked so peaceful when she slept and it was crazy to the two of you that you both created such a beautiful baby, she was utterly perfect.

the three of you were sat on the sofa, Penny asleep whilst laying on top of Eddie who had cuddled her since the minute the three of you got home. “it’s getting late, you want to help me get her ready for bed?” you looked down at Penny who was snoring softly.

he nodded and stood up carefully making sure his grip was tight so she wouldn’t fall. the two of you walked up the stairs, you behind Eddie looking at the sleepy girls drooling on his shoulder.

once the two of you were in her bedroom you picked out her pyjamas and got her dressed, careful to not wake her up out of the peaceful slumber she was in. once she was dressed you laid her down in her bed and pulled the covers over her, tucking her in and with a quick kiss on her forehead you moved out the way so Eddie could say goodnight to her.

this was the first time in three years Eddie had been here to tuck her in and say goodnight. he knelt down to look at her, her curls where all over her face so he gently pushed them back and kissed her cheek, she sighed peacefully and that felt like your queue to leave her to rest.

Eddie didn’t want to leave though, he wanted to stay with the two of you and never leave again but he knew it didn’t work like that. the two of you went downstairs and a comfortable silence filled the space. “so, i guess this is my time to leave” he joked, scratching the back of his back awkwardly.

“you can stay for a bit if you want. maybe it would be good for us to talk?” he looked at you to make sure you were 100% sure and that he was actually hearing you correctly. “i- uhh, are you sure? i can leave if you want” you laughed and shook your head.

“i think it would be good for us to talk” you turned to walk to the living room and sat down on the sofa, knees brought to your chest. you could hear his sock covered feet following you and he sat next to you quickly after.

“we haven’t really had a conversation and i think it’s good for me to tell you now” you were still madly in love with Eddie and spending the little time you had together had made you realise it, you were with him for five years before you broke up and your feelings don’t just vanish into thin air.

he was confused at first, what was there to talk about? “i know you left me and i understand why you did, it was hard for me to get it at first but i do understand. but i do want you to realise that just because you left doesn’t mean my feelings for you just went away” he looked at you feeling guilty about the past.

“i’m not gonna sit here and say what you did was okay because it wasn’t. you hurt me a lot and you hurt your daughter. you had time to go and sleep with whoever you wanted and do whatever you wanted and i had to be strong and look after Penny all by myself. it was hard to see you not make an effort for her and what made it even worse was every time i did see you it hurt me so much because you didn’t even look like yourself” you felt your chin quiver as tears filled your eyes and his eyes glossed over with tears of his own as he listened to you talk.

“i always wanted to help you, i always tried to reach out to help you but i couldn’t get through to you and it hurt me to see you doing the stuff you did and i would see your face everywhere and i was trying to i guess grieve our relationship and i couldn’t. i didn’t want that to be the end of us Eddie because my feelings for you never went away. they never left my body and that’s why it hurt”

you both had a few tears rolling down your cheeks “i need you to know that i do love you, i love you so much Eddie and i can’t help how i feel. i would dream about how we used to be and i missed it, i missed you and if you don’t love me that’s okay i’ll live, but please don’t leave Penny again just because i told you this. she needs you” you sniffled and looked down at your knees, cheeks blushing as you wiped your tears.

“you have no idea how long i’ve been waiting to hear you say that” you looked up at Eddie how’s eyes were bloodshot, tears rolling down his cheeks which a huge smile on his lips, his dimples showing. he moved closer to you and wrapped his arms around your shoulders, bringing you into him.

after three years of yearning for his love, his affection you finally felt his lips on yours. the kiss was filled with passion, filled with every ounce of love you had for each other.

“i love you so much” he said between a few small kisses you two shared. “i love you too” you spoke softly into the practically silent house. “i’m never leaving either of you ever again, i promise” he kissed you one more time, the two of you smiled into the kiss, it was like nothing had changed when you kissed each other.

in the space of a two months Eddie had changed for the better. he’d long forgotten the drugs, the alcohol, the groupies. god the words made him feel sick. he changed for you, changed for Penny and now the two of you could continue your life and expand your beautiful family.

#fanfiction #imagines #eddie munson #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x you #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie x you #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic #dad!eddie munson #dad!eddie x mom!reader #dad!eddie munson x reader #dad!eddiemunson #rockstar!eddie imagine #rockstar!eddie munson x reader #rockstar!eddie munson #rockstar!eddie #rockstar!eddie x reader #rockstar!eddie munson imagines

[shadowlali]

alejandro vargas but he became a pastor after he retired from the military and reader who is a newcomer to their church and and and (EXPLODES)

sin

COD - priest!Alejandro Vargas x fem!reader

[18+] wc: ~ 4.4k masterlist

warnings: NSFW, some proofreading, no use of Y/N nor too many details on reader’s appearance (Alejandro is taller than reader and reader can sit in his lap), pet names (mi niña, hermosa), masturbation (m!), fingering, unprotected sex a/n: this is written all in Alejandro’s POV

Alejandro speaks to the crowd, taking in all the familiar faces. He keeps his voice calm as he repeats the passage he’s memorized by now. His eyes land on the back corner and he stumbles over his words as he notices you, someone he’s never seen before. You have your head slightly bowed and eyes closed as you listen to his words. You’re wearing a light pink dress with enough of a v-neck to show your soft skin and the rosary that hangs between your breasts. 

He quickly continues talking and tries to shake away whatever emotion begins to claw at his skin. Temptation. Lust. The emotions he was told would truly test him and his character as a priest. He never truly listened before, or cared. Alejandro’s head was filled with too much trauma to pay attention to women. They come into the church and bring him gifts or flirt, but he always redirects their attention to prayer. They’re nice to look at, and definitely eager, but he’s never been interested enough to break his promise. 

Before he knows it, his service finishes and people begin to file out of the building. Many stay behind to thank him and add more money to the donation plates. He sweeps his eyes through the crowd and doesn’t see you anymore. Disappointment and guilt washes over him. Disappointment at not finding out who you are and guilt for wanting to see your pretty face up close. She’s not an object to be lusted after, he tells himself. 

The last of the church goers file out and he’s left alone. Alejandro walks back to the podium with the intention of picking up his book and walking into his office when he hears soft footsteps approaching. He turns and finds you walking down the aisle towards him. His mouth dries at the sight of you, sunlight cascading through the stained-glass windows and illuminating your body in soft light. Like an angel in a pink dress–No he reminds himself. 

You stop about a meter away and introduce yourself. He breathes in slow and deep, your perfume too delicious to ignore. You’re new in town and missing your family so you decided to visit church, you tell him. It reminds you of home and you’re feeling a bit lonely. He listens as you speak, focusing on the sound of your voice and the way it draws him in. You like how beautiful the church is and how connected you feel to the words in the bible. 

“Solitude and loneliness is something we all feel at some point. But I hope Las Almas can provide you with community, mi niña,” Alejandro says. [My girl]

“That’s what I want, community,” you say with a soft smile,” I was wondering if there were any bible study or worship groups that meet?” 

“None yet.” He notices the sad look on your face that you quickly try to hide with a smile. 

“I see, well I’m sure I’ll find my place here in Las Almas soon. Thank you, Padre.” [Father]

You turn and begin to walk away. Alejandro’s lungs seize as he realizes that the conversation has now ended. He knows first hand what solitude feels like. Priests take an oath to serve and dedicate the rest of their lives to God. It’s a sacrifice, one that leaves them lonely. 

“Espera,” he practically yells out,” I–we don’t have one but, if you want to, we–you and I can meet in the afternoons.” [Wait]

You turn at the sound of his voice, your smile growing bigger with each word he says. 

“I—yes, Padre. Me encanta la idea.” [I love the idea] 

So you two decide on a weekday, one where you won’t be too busy. It’s also a day he knows not many people attend church, which means you two will be alone–no. He busies himself with work the rest of the afternoon and the days that follow. Alejandro tries not to think about you. He focuses on the other members who come in for guidance, on a few baptisms and communions.

At night, he does his prayers and squeezes his eyes shut while forcing the memory of your eyes and your citrus scent out of his head. He pushes you to the farthest corner of his brain, but as his mind relaxes and his dreams begin, he sees you. On your knees while you wait to swallow his dick. On top of him while you sink down his length. Bent over his desk while he takes you from behind. 

A much better man, a good priest would ignore the temptation. He would remember his oath and fight the urge to fuck his own hand. But Alejandro never said he’s a good priest. He wakes in the middle of the night, cock aching and body sweating. He thinks of you while he pumps his length slowly. Alejandro imagines it's your much softer and smaller hand that strokes him. He thinks of your voice and skin. With a suppressed moan, he finishes. Ropes and ropes of come paint his stomach while he wishes you were here with him. 

- - - 

He cleans and organizes and then cleans and organizes his office all over again. You’re going to arrive soon and Alejandro finds himself nervous. The doors of the church are locked and the only source of light are the lighted candles in the front. He waits on a pew with the bible in his hand, reading but not actually paying attention to the words. His body is poised to jump up the moment he hears you knock on the side door. 

The minutes go by, closer and closer to the time you two agreed upon. And then he hears it, a knock on the door and a soft, Padre? He slams the bible shut and fixes his collar before quickly walking towards the door. You greet him with a pretty smile and a kiss on his cheek that he can feel scorching his skin even under his beard. The mary janes make you a bit taller than last time to where you fit right underneath his nose. 

Alejandro leads you to his office and motions for you to sit on his small couch. The sun has now mostly set, a yellow lamp illuminating the small room. You're sweet and polite, asking him about his day. He can tell you’re an avid listener by the way you respond at the appropriate moments and keep your body angled towards him. He sits across from you in an armchair and watches as you pull out a quilted pink bible from your bag. He notices you rub your upper shoulder a bit and then drop your hand back down to your lap.

Alejandro tries not to stare too much while you situate yourself. The dress you have on is similar to the one you wore during Mass with a row of buttons leading to a v-neck that shows the same gold and pearl rosary. The image of you wearing nothing but the rosary while he makes you ride him briefly flashes in his mind. He discreetly adjusts his hardening length between his thighs and uses his own bible to cover himself. 

“How has Las Almas been so far?” 

“Good, great actually,” you respond, ”it’s similar to home. The people here are so… welcoming and nice and just so warm.” 

“That’s great to hear, mi niña–” 

“I actually found out something about you, Padre,” you say in a teasing tone.

Alejandro’s mind races with a hundred negative thoughts. What could have you found out about him?

“I had no idea you were in the military. I thought maybe you just liked weightlifting.” 

His body relaxes and he lets out a chuckle, ”Sí, I was in the military for most of my life.” 

You tilt your head slightly and he knows the question you’re going to ask before it even leaves your lips,” Why priesthood? If you don’t mind me asking.” 

He’s ready to tell you the answer he’s told everyone since he joined, I felt like it was my calling. However, Alejandro pauses. A few more moments pass and he’s left wondering if he can be truly honest with you. You wait patiently for his answer, your curious look void of any judgment. 

“I… saw and did things that will… stay with me forever. I don’t regret any of it,” he quickly says,” but I want to–I want time to think about what I’ve done. Sometimes I think about praying for forgiveness too, from all the bloodshed.” 

You lean forward and place a hand on top of his. He feels warmth spread up his arm as you give him a gentle squeeze. “Thank you for sharing, Padre. I can’t imagine what you went through… yet you continue to help the people. That’s incredibly generous of you.” 

Alejandro doesn’t feel the need to tell you to keep what he said to yourself. He’s not sure how, but he knows you won’t repeat his confession. He smiles and you pull your hand back and once again reach up to rub your shoulder. 

“Are you okay?” he asks while motioning to your shoulder. 

“Sí, recogí una caja pesada” you respond, ”and I think I pulled a muscle but I’ll be fine.”  [I picked up a heavy box]

Before he knows what he’s doing, Alejandro stands up and walks towards the shelf holding the anointing oils. “Do you want me to take a look? I had medic training in the military.” 

“Oh, no it’s okay. I wouldn’t want to impose–” 

“You won’t, trust me.” 

Alejandro thinks he imagines the shy look on your face as you stand up and sit at the foot rest placed between his spread thighs. He’s back in his arm chair with your back facing him, trying his best not to react as he feels your body between his legs. You move your hair to the other side and move down the sleeves of your dress just enough to where he sees the imprint left by your bra strap. He catches a glimpse of a pink, lacey strap before you push it under your sleeve. He opens the glass bottle and pours a bit in his hand, places it on the side table and begins to heat the oil in his palms. 

He can smell your perfume, the same citrus scent from last time. There’s also something else, an unmistakable sweetness found in your skin.”¿Lista?” he asks. [Ready?]

You give a nod and he brings two large fingers to press and mold the skin. There isn’t a ton of skin showing, only the part where your neck dips into your shoulder. It’s more than enough for him. He feels the warmth on your skin and holds in a moan as he notices goosebumps rise with each probe into your muscles. You tilt your head more down and lean back, almost pressing against his erection. You become more comfortable as he massages you, and he hears the unmistakable sound of a small moan leaving your lips. 

His pants tighten as his cock grows harder but he keeps massaging and cooing in your ear, relájate, lo estás haciendo muy bien. Your moans rise only a bit in volume and he can see the fluttering of your pulse on your neck. The scent of your skin and the strong scent of the oil fogs his brain. He brings his fingers and ghosts over your pulse before sliding back down to your shoulder, leaving behind a shiny trail of oil. [Relax, you’re doing really well]

“Again please,” you whimper. 

He stills, his heart beating in his chest at your words. You enjoy this just as much as he does, he thinks. Your body tenses, thinking you went too far and you begin to sit up again but Alejandro does just as you ask. Once again he runs light fingertips to your pulse and back down to your shoulder. He knows this is a bad idea, that he’s doing something that a normal, good priest wouldn’t do. He knows, hopes, what this will lead to but he doesn’t want you to pull away again. 

Alejandro finds the courage to explore more of your skin, trailing the edges of the v-neck and back up with harder strokes on your neck. He can see your thighs squeeze together and feel the purrs in your throat. He wipes the rest of the oil on your neck before lightly squeezing it, with enough pressure to get your attention. 

“Is this okay?” he asks.

You try to nod, not having much room to do so, ”yes.” 

With his other hand that was gripping the arm rest, he slowly brings it up to your front and leads you to sit on him. Your firm ass lands right on his bulge and it's his turn to let out a groan from his chest. You twist and moan in his lap, trying to find a position that can no doubt relieve your own ache between your pretty thighs. With you in his lap, he begins to unbutton the front of your dress. 

Little by little, your pink lacy bra comes into view. You lean your head back on his shoulder and move your hips in small circles. The rosary winks and glitters in the low light and Alejandro runs his oily fingers underneath the necklace to touch the skin at your sternum. His movements are slow and precise. There’s no reason to rush what he’s doing. He wants to take his time with you, hear the sounds you make, see what you look like when left bare. The dress is unbuttoned underneath the swell of your breasts and you push it down your arms and wiggle out until it lands on a heap at the foot rest. You kick off your shoes and socks next. 

He turns his head slightly and presses his mouth on yours. Your lips are soft and pliant, letting him take the lead while he swallows the noises that leave your mouth. Your tongue gently prods his bottom lip, seeking entry. He opens his mouth and feels the press of your warm tongue on his. He moves a hand to keep your hips still, too close to coming from the way you kiss him and the movement of your hips. 

Alejandro uses one hand to grip your neck while his other hand slides over your tits, down your tummy, and back up to your hardened nipples. The bra is basically see through, the shape and color of your nipples visible to his eyes. When he pinches your nipples through the lace, you whine louder and grip his wrist. He keeps pinching and pulling at your nipples, using the lace as stimulation. 

He lets go of your neck and briefly pushes you forward a bit to unhook your bra. Once you fling it off, he uses both hands to massage your chest, rubbing up to your sternum and neck then back down to cup and pinch your nipples. Alejandro picks up the anointing oil again and pours more in his hand. Not wasting another second, he quickly rubs it into his palms and places his hands on your tits again. 

“Bella,” he groans.

His hands move across your tits and soft tummy, lathering your body in oil. Your body glows and sparkles even in the low light from the lamp. He skims his fingers down your tummy, pressing and massaging the skin. With lubricated fingers, he teases the top seam of your pink panties. He pushes two fingers underneath the scrap of lace and feels the wetness that covers your cunt. 

Alejandro skims the tip of his finger over your swollen clit causing you to twitch and nip at his bottom lip. He chuckles into your mouth and runs his finger over your clit again, loving how your breathing picks up. He continues his descent and slowly plunges his middle finger into your slick entrance. You both hiss, Alejandro wondering how he’s going to fit in your little hole the way your walls flutter and tighten around him. He cups your entire pussy and uses his palm to apply slight pressure to your clit. 

“So wet and pretty, aren’t you?” 

He pumps his finger slowly a few times, not able to move much since his hand is still in the confines of your panties. Alejandro adds his ring finger, shushing you when you hiss again. Up until now, you had left your hands at your sides, letting Alejandro explore your body. You raise one arm up and cup the back of Alejandro’s head, dragging your fingers through his hair. You continue to eat at each other’s mouths while Alejandro slowly pumps his fingers inside of you. His aching cock now forgotten, your grind down on his hand and spread your slick all on it. 

He slips his fingers out and nips your bottom lip at your protest. “Quítatelos,” he says while hooking his thumb in the side of your panties and slightly pushing them down. [Take them off]

You use both hands to quickly wiggle out of your panties. Alejandro continues to stay fully clothed, wanting to focus his attention on you and the wet stains you leave on his pants. At this point, barely any words have been spoken aside from his coos of encouragement. 

“Spread your thighs, mi niña,” he says as he helps you place a thigh over the armrest. 

You look like a pretty angel in his eyes. Your thighs are spread, one foot placed on the foot rest while your other thigh hangs over the armrest. He pushes his hand into your stomach to have you lean as much into him, wanting a better angle to see your pretty pussy. Alejandro moves his slick fingers back down, pausing to rub your clit in a light circle then plunges two fingers into your heat again. 

“Alejandro–” 

“Padre,” he corrects you, bringing up his hand to squeeze your neck once more. 

“Padre, así– por favor así,” you cry out. [Just like that– please, just like that]

He works his fingers faster and feels as you wet his hand the moment he curves into your g-spot. You’re loud, your cries bouncing off the old walls in the office. There’s no one in the church, yet even if there was, he wouldn’t care. Alejandro encourages you, whispering in your ear how pretty you sound and how perfect you wrap around his fingers. He uses his palm to press and rub on your clit. 

“I’m com– oh fu– Padre, oh God,” you stutter out. 

He plunges and plunges his fingers while you come apart in his lap. You bring both of your hands up to your neck, encouraging him to squeeze you tighter. You walls pulse and squeeze him and you twist your hips in jerky movements. Alejandro manages to see the gush of your slick wet his hand. He doesn’t mind if the rest of the night is spent giving your orgasm after orgasm. His balls are heavy and his cock is pained but he wants you to have as much pleasure as possible. 

You push his hand away with the little energy you have left and melt into his lap. His fingers glisten with your creamy juices and he quickly sucks them in his mouth. Alejandro groans at your sweet taste and the remnants of the anointing oil, laving his tongue over his two fingers. You bring a shaky hand up to his wrist and pull his fingers out of his mouth. Your mouth is warm and wet while you lap and suck his fingers. It sends shocks directly to his dick as he imagines your mouth around his length. 

You slowly sink down to your knees, pushing the foot rest away and situating yourself between Alejandro’s big thighs. He stops you as you reach for his belt buckle, knowing he’ll come the moment you wrap your lips around him. 

“No, mi niña. I won’t last.” 

You glance back up, eyes shiny and glazed from the orgasm you just had. He sees the moment an idea pops into your head, your lips forming a devilish smile. You stand on shaky legs and grab his hand, pulling him up. Walking backwards, you lead him to his desk and push the office chair away. You let go of his hand and push away the few books that scatter his desk, bending over and presenting your firm ass and glistening pussy to him. 

You look back over your shoulder with innocent eyes, ”Will you please fuck me, Padre?” 

He smiles at the way you drag out the last word, mocking him from earlier. Alejandro keeps eye contact while he unbuckles his belt and frees his cock. You glance back down and gasp slightly. He’s slightly curved and impossibly hard. The tip is painfully red and pre-come drips slightly from his tip. You begin to turn your body and reach a hand to touch him but Alejandro moves behind you and presses a hand on your shoulder blades, pushing you down until your tits press on his desk. He lightly presses his shoe to your bare ankle and you spread your legs further apart. 

“Malo,” you mutter. 

His head snaps up while he pushes his pants and briefs below his heavy balls. “I’m mean?” 

Alejandro doesn’t give you a chance to respond before he’s sinking his length all the way in. His hips are flush against yours and his tip nudges your cervix. You tense and claw at his desk before he grabs both hands and pins your wrists behind your back. 

“I’m mean?” he repeats. 

You don’t say anything, mouth open but no noise or air coming out. 

“Breath, mi niña,” Alejandro says. 

He waits until he hears a few shaky breaths come in and out of your mouth. Once you're okay, Alejandro begins to pound into your drooling cunt, using your hands as leverage. Your walls are swollen and wet, barely able to accommodate his length. You don’t stop him, moaning loudly and chanting more, more, more. 

“Is this mean?” Alejandro repeats again, watching as his cock thrusts in and out of your fluttering cunt. 

“Yes,” you scream, ”so fucking mean.” 

He lands a loud slap to your ass. “Don’t curse.” 

Alejandro’s eyes stay where you two are joined. He watches as your inner walls grip him every time he pulls out. Your sticky arousal paints his cock and drips down your inner thighs. You begin to push your hips back into him, meeting each of his thrusts. You ass jiggles and recoils with each slam of his hips. 

Alejandro slows down his thrusts, pulling out fully until it's just his tip notched at your entrance then sinking to rub your cervix. He does this a few times, calming his breathing or trying to while your pussy massages and suffocates his cock. His mouth hangs open and sweat drips down his chest while his body tenses.

If he could stay buried in your heat for the rest of eternity, he would. Alejandro tries to hold off his orgasm. He feels a pull in his balls while he speeds up his fucking. The noises coming from the both of you are raw and obscene. Alejandro groans and pants from deep with his chest. He loves the whimpers from your mouth and the unmistakable wet sound of your fucking. 

“I–I’m going to, I need you to fin–finish inside, inside,” you stammer out. 

You begin to squeeze around his length and Alejandro goes momentarily blind. He feels the gush of your come wet his cock, your pussy becoming a slippery mess. He pumps his hips faster while you come, jackhammering you into his desk. You’re a crying, trembling mess at this point. Drool pooling out of the side of your mouth and eyes half closed. 

Alejandro explodes inside of you, marking your walls with his spend. He feels powerful in that moment, rutting into you like an animal while he brands your pussy with his come. He keeps one hand on your pinned wrists and uses the other to slap and slap your jiggling ass. Your cunt pulses and massages his cock while he fucks you through your simultaneous orgasms. 

He stops spanking you and lets go of your wrists, one hand moving to grip your neck. Alejandro feels the beads from your rosary press on the side of his fingers. He makes you stand slightly while he grinds his cock into you and brings your mouth to his. In the same rhythm that he fucks you, he attacks your mouth with his tongue. There’s spit and teeth and bites but it's perfect. It becomes too much for the both of you. His cock unloads the last ropes of come in your messy cunt and you begin to cry no more, please – too much. 

Alejandro manages to drag you to the couch in a few steps and sink down with you in his lap. His cock stays firmly lodged inside of you, now softened but still gripped by your tight pussy. Your head leans back on his shoulder and you close your eyes. Alejandro lightly grasps your chin with his thumb and index finger and presses his lips to your mouth. It’s a soft kiss, just the press of two mouths. He moves the hair from your sweaty forehead and places a kiss on your nose. 

You look like a beautiful mess to him. Your body is shiny from sweat and the anointing oil, the rosary stuck between your heaving tits. Alejandro’s body relaxes as he caresses your warm skin with one hand. Maybe it wasn’t a lie he told the others. Maybe priesthood really is his calling, if it brought you to him. He skims his nose on your temple and breathes in your scent once again. 

“Hermosa, how are you feeling?” he asks. 

“‘m okay, Padre–”

“Alejandro, just Alejandro.” 

You eyes open slightly in confusion, “But I thought you said–” 

He chuckles, ”it was just the heat of the moment. The cursing stuff too, doesn’t matter. When we’re alone, you can call me Alejandro.” He waits until you nod and repeat his name back to him before he continues speaking. “How about I run you a warm bath, yeah?” 

You nod then groan as you try to move your sore limbs, ”sí, I think that’s a good idea.” 

#alejandro vargas x reader #alejandro vargas x female reader #alejandro vargas smut #cod x reader #cod mw2 x female reader #alejandro vargas #cod mw2 smut #shadowlali

[deyisacherry]

Closing time. — Sun x Moon drabble.

The Superstar Daycare had finally closed its doors for the day. The children were picked up by their parents, and the place was now in complete order.

The animatronics in charge of that place were sitting in their room, Sun with his back to Moon, while he carefully rearranged the wires on his plate, because one of the children accidentally pulled them. For clinging to Sun and refusing to leave the daycare, his small hands reached for the wires behind his head. The little boy wanted to continue playing, but his mother was finally able to convince him, and they both calmly retired.

Luckily, they weren't too important wires and the only problem that Sun had was having his rays stuck for a while before closing.

“Alright, that's it. Try to retract them.” Moon asks with a softer voice than usual, due to his slightly low battery... And also because that's how he prefers to talk to Sunny, since he notices the clear comfort it gives him.

Sun obeys and retracts his rays without problem, silently.

“Good, now extend them again.”

Sun obeys once more, and then turns them from one direction to another, as a sign that he is now in perfect condition.

Moon smiles and softens his expression. His hands now travel to the ruffled collar on Sun's neck, also fixing it so it returns to its shape a little. “You're pretty quiet today. Is everything okay, Sunny?”

Sun just nods softly, letting Moon do his thing. He plays with his fingers absentmindedly, while he keeps looking ahead, lost.

Moon tilts his head in mild concern. He lets out a static sound like a sigh, and he moves from his spot to stand side by side with Sun. He gently nudges him with his shoulder, looking at him expectantly.

“Hey... usually you're the one who does most of the talking, and I'm the one who listens patiently. Something wrong?" Moon says, raising his voice just a little more. “You can tell me, you know that, right?... I don't think I fixed any cables wrong, so I can say that your voice box is fine-”

“Moony.” Sun interrupts.

Moon stops talking for a moment, and then answers. “Yes, Sunflower?”

“Do you think I'm still good at taking care of children?”

Moon straightens, and tilts his head in confusion. What kind of question is that?

He puts a hand on Sun's, making him stop moving them, asking him to look straight at him, but the solar animatronic remains with a distant gaze.

“... Of course you do, Sunny. You are the best at taking care of the little stars.” Moon says as he gently caresses the other's hands with his thumb. "Why you ask?"

Sun shrugs, tense.

“I guess… after all that time being alone…” Moon's hand lightly squeezes Sun's, knowing what he means. “... Sometimes I feel like it's not the same. I get too nervous, or- or I make mistakes, or I feel overwhelmed when they leave.” Sun glances at Moon, and has a sad expression. “I feel like I'm new at this again... and I'm also afraid that I'll lose them, and you, again.”

Moon's eyes widen a little. Worried, he takes the sides of Sun's head in his hands, staring at him. “Sunny…” He says his name softly. “That's not going to happen, never again. That... thing is gone. It can’t hurt me, or you, or them.”

Sun sighs, looking down.

“I know how you feel, because... you know better than anyone how hard it was for me to believe that I'm no longer a monster.” Sun lets out a small sound of understanding. “But look at me now, and look at us. Look how well things have gone, and even many more children have come here than before. We are fine, we are safe and so are they, Sunny.”

Sun looks up again.

“And we are together. I am here with you. I can hug you, and see you, and always accompany you now. None of that will ever happen again. I promise you."

Sun's expression turns into a loving smile. His face plate rotates instead of his beams, since they're trapped between Moon's hands. Moon laughs sweetly at this, adoring how expressive his Sun is.

“And again... I believe, that you are the best of all. In everything you do.” Moon waits for Sun to stop turning his faceplate, and presses his smile against his forehead. Sun lets out small flustered giggles, putting his hands on Moon's wrists.

“... Thank you, Moony.”

“There is nothing to thank for, Sunlight.”

They both smile lovingly, looking into each other's eyes.

“... May I have my turn helping you arrange your clothes and cables?”

Moon laughs, tilting his face plate while maintaining a lovestruck expression.

"Sure." He replies, before giving him one more kiss.

#daycare attendant fnaf #fnaf security breach #sun x moon #sundrop x moondrop #fnaf sun #fnaf moon #sun fnaf #moon fnaf #sundrop #moondrop #daycare attendant #fnaf moondrop #fnaf sundrop #fnaf dca #dca #dca sun #dca moon #drabble #NOT BROTHERS #NOT THE SAME ANIMATRONIC

[baestruly]

i’m crashing down, crash into me ━━ jj maybank

❝won’t stop until you’re safe.❞ 

( 𝗌𝗒𝗇𝗈𝗉𝗌𝗂𝗌 ⋫ 𝖘𝖎𝖓𝖔𝖘𝖘𝖎 )  jj maybank x fem!singlemom!reader

⤷ IN WHICH, after your ex rafe━━also the dad of your son, leo after an accidental pregnancy━━threatens you and your friends if you don’t let him see his son, you get too overwhelmed with everything that you break down. but jj is willing to do anything to help and protect you and leo.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 - single parent, hurt comfort, fluff, mentions of threats, panic attacks, placed in s2 sometime after he framed john b and tried to drown sarah, they are 18, rafe is 20. you and jj aren’t dating yet but the type of friends that the whole friend group thinks is bullshit because of how stupid you guys are, i’m sorry i love dynamics like that especially in slow burn. 

a/n - i’m sorry to rafe lovers. this was for a fic i had planned, but scrapped so why not make some scenes that i wrote imagines. also send me requests bc currently i have none my heart is breaking. 

Nothing. There’s nothing in the world as you stood in this battered kitchen. Empty, and alone.

Gone. Nothing.

Then you’re pretty sure you hear your heart crack, because it stops, and everything comes crashing down. 

Whimpering as your lip quivers from the flow of tears streaming down your face━━this is the only sign that you know you’re really drowning.

Forgetting about your friends behind you, you have your back to them, hiding yourself in your hands. You have always had people there for you but you feel so alone━━as if you were the only person in the world, and you were the only person who could break yourself. 

“(Y/N)━━” JJ whispers softly. You’ve never heard his voice like that, he didn’t seem like the type. 

“I’m sorry━━I’m so sorry I━━no, I’m━━“

“No. No, (Y/N), you never apologize.” He shot back, concerned, before moving to face you as he held your arms in his hands. “You don’t apologize for this, alright?”

You could only shake your head. You couldn’t open your eyes and your hands were shaking. 

JJ knitted his eyebrows, running his hand up your arm to your shoulder swiftly before rubbing his thumb against your bare shoulder and pulling you into him. “C’mere.”

You sobbed harder into his chest as muffled cries for help tore through your whole body. “I'm a bad mom━━I can’t do this, I can’t━━”

You couldn’t fucking do this

You were so alone, nothing.

Fuck, fuck, fuck━━you were drowning.

You couldn’t, you couldn’t.

You couldn’t! 

Suddenly, JJ placed his hands on your shoulders━━backing you away from his chest so all you had left to do was stare at the ground in shame, trying to cover your red and glossy face from his view.

He placed his hands on each side of your head, lifting it as he forced you to look at him. “Yes, you can.”

You just kept shaking your head. You weren't listening or paying attention to what anyone was saying, you knew. No━━just no, you couldn’t.

He brought his face close to yours, looking into your eyes deeply, as if everything he could say could reach your brain. Your eyes scanned his face━━sadness pooling deep into those waves, just waiting to burst and form the waterfall. 

“You’re strong, (Y/N). The strongest person I know.” He brought your back to his chest, and he felt your tension ease as your shoulder sagged before wrapping your arms around him.

The only response he got was a choked sob.

“What have you always done, huh? What was the one thing you told me that you promised yourself when Leo was first born?”

“But, you don’t understand.” You whispered, your voice high with emotion. “He’s going to━━”

“I know, I know━━and we’re going to help you.” 

“But you can’t! Okay? You fucking can’t because my life, Leo’s, and maybe all of yours is on the line! I can’t deal with this shit━━”

JJ’s eyes suddenly widened. “What’d you mean?”

Surprised you  let all that anger take over yourself, you blinked as if they could take back all those words. Instead, you let out a sigh and wiped the tear falling down your face.

You could do this.

Just tell him, he trusts you, (Y/N).

“I know he’s his dad, and I never want to keep him away from him━━but he’s just not fit enough to be one━━Y’know? It’s just, like it’s just about the thought of being one, but where was he these past few years! I was just raising him alone, and he hadn’t tried to contact me or find me, nothing━━he didn’t give to shits!” You swallowed the thick lump in your throat. Your voice was cracking and you were afraid you were going to break down again. The smallest touch would affect you now. “And now━━now he’s threatening me, and you guys━━and my dad, my house━━” yep, there it was, the tears. “And I'm scared. I'm so scared, i'm so━━”

Your shaken voice stopped as JJ pulled you in for a hug again, and the one of a million barriers crashed down behind your eyes.

“I’m not going to let anything happen to you, or Leo. None of us will let that happen.”

“He knows stuff, JJ━━he knows about everything we’ve done and he’s going to use that against us.”

He continued rubbing your back, sending shivers down your spin as your stomach swelled with the oh too familiar feeling of butterflies. “Well we have something against him too, right?”

You knitted your eyebrows against his chest, before stepping back to look him in the eyes. “What?”

“Just give me a day, I’ll get it sorted out.” JJ squeezed your shoulder, and was about to head for the door until━━

“━━Hey! What are you going to do? That’s Leo’s dad, remember━━”

“I’m not going to hurt him, not too bad. Shit━━but I am gon’ make sure he doesn’t lay a finger on you, or Leo.”

With that, he spun on his heel and ran out the door, leaving you alone━━but you didn’t feel like you did before. JJ was there and so were your friends, you lost sight of that.

It only needed JJ to get you back up again, and to help you find the way when you were starting to get lost. Only this time, it hadn’t been too late.

thanks for reading! request anything for any character in my masterlist

masterlist                       jj maybank masterlist

#jj maybank #jj #outerbanks #obx #jj obx #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank oneshot #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank x you #jj maybank headcanons #jj maybank blurb #jj maybank headcanon #jj x y/n #jj x you #obx imagine #imagine #writing #fic #jj maybank fluff

[bloodcanbehot]

Dancing With Our Hands Tied

Anthony Lockwood x f!reader

Content: angst, kissing, bit of fluff?

Warnings: some curse words, but other than that none (kinda proof read)

Characters: Anthony Lockwood, (Y/N) Kipps and one mention of Quill Kipps (not directly his name). Also one or two mentions of the golden blade

Word count: 1.011 (according to word)

A/N: Just a heads up before you read, this scene is from a lockwood fanfic that I'm working on, the fanfic is with an oc but I changed it to y/n to post it here. Is this basically that scene after the auction with Lockwood and Lucy but in here y/n kisses Lockwood? Yes, leave me alone.

Enjoy

(here's their almost kiss if your interested)

I promise, he'd said before letting go of her hand and the cold water of the river hitting her skin brought her back to reality.

She felt him fall onto the water a bit later, grabbing her to get to the surface. She gasped for air, swimming away from his embrace and crawling to shore.

She laid there, gazing the stars on the sky and trying to make her heartbeat calm down with her mind. The image of her fist or palm on Lockwood’s face was helping a bit.

She saw him getting out of the water of the corner of her eye, falling next to her for a moment with a heavy sound.

“I promised, didn’t I?” he breathed out. She could even hear his smile. His annoying smile.

She wanted to punch him.

“Are you stupid?” she yelled, sitting up in one go and making her sight go spotty for a second as she did it “I know you're Anthony Bloody Lockwood and all but that was... fucking mental!”

He got up too “(y/n) listen-”

“No, you listen!” she snapped back “That wasn’t just stupid, it was… fucking reckless! And I understand crazy plans, I do! But I'm not the one who jumped from the top of a building! Twice!”

“Actually, three times but the first time was a house so I don't think it counts-”

(y/n)’s eyes opened wide “What?” she said “No, you know what? I don’t wanna know” she started walking away, hugging herself to somehow shield her freezing skin from the wind.

She heard his steps trail behind her, his dress-shoes hitting the small rocks from the river. She didn’t even want to imagine how she looked like. Mascara running down her cheeks, because of her tears or the water from the river, she didn’t know; her wet hair felt heavy, her new dress too, she only wanted to hide under the warm covers of her bed and forget all about this night. About the mission, about the fight, about everything.

About Anthony-fucking-Lockwood.

“(y/n) wait, oh god you’re fast” he finally caught up to her fast and heavy steps. She had learned from older agents under the agency to not just walk well on heels, but also fight with them on, “please”

There was that plead again, the one he had used on her last time they encountered that golden blade-bitch. She didn’t know why his begging caused her to stop, but she did.

She turned around, the knot on her throat growing back before she could even speak “I hate you”

“And you have every right to”

“You dropped me onto the fucking river!”

“I had a plan, things went wrong, I didn’t want you to get hurt” he explained.

“I can protect myself just fine!” she yelled.

“Yes, you can!” he yelled back “but you would also step in front of me and the blade, I would never forgive myself for that!”

“From the moment he appeared I knew the plan was fucked, but no, you risked it, again" she said “What were you gonna do? Fight him? You were going to die! Do you think I could forgive myself if that happened?” and I wasn’t there, she thought as she pushed him “Your sight might be great but you sure are blind when it comes to-”

“When it comes to what?” he cut her off, taking another step closer.

My feelings.

“You know what” she said instead “you think you're so good, you think you're the next big shit, but you’re just reckless, a reckless coward”

That what he needed, a punch to his ego.

“I’m not a coward”

“Then look at me in the eye and tell me how you feel” she almost whispered, feeling her hands shake at the thought of his answer “look at me in the eye and tell me you didn’t understand what I told you back at the library”

He didn’t say anything, and even when (y/n) thought she’d had enough, his silence was the last straw.

“I’m done” she said “I’m so done with you, if you want someone to help you with a case, call anyone else, not me! Call my brother for all I care!” she started walking away again, getting closer and closer to the steps leading to the street.

“(y/n) please-”

“No, don’t you ‘(y/n) please’ me” she yelled, not even bothering to turn around to look at him, missing just for a moment how he got closer before he grabbed her, forcing her to stop just a few steps away from the stairs.

“I did get it” he said “not just what you told me, but why you told me” He said, caressing her cheek like how he had done merely hours ago “and I… I do too” he said “I don’t know for how long, but I have feelings for you too (y/n)”

Maybe it was just a thing between them to panic each other with silence, but (y/n) enjoyed for just a moment the spark of fear growing on his eyes.

She grabbed him, smashing their lips together. He froze, but (y/n) didn’t care. She was about to pull back and yell some more when he grabbed her cheeks and pulled her in again, his hot breath fanning against her, bringing some relief to her cold aching skin for a moment.

She had completely forgotten what she was going to say after the kiss, probably insult him, but her mind was filled with fireworks.

No thoughts, just him. His lips, her lips. Their lips. (apocalypse)

“This- this should be- against some sort of rule” he said in between kisses.

(y/n) only hummed, barely registering what he’d said. Her fingers slid up his neck and grabbed his wet hair as he grabbed her by the waist, walking them both backwards till her back hit a wall.

They separated.

“Kissing me won’t make this go away” (y/n) said, breathing heavy and gazing at his eyes and lips.

He chuckled “I don't mind”

“You owe me a dinner” she said, straightening her back and stabbing his chest with her finger “A very nice dinner”

“Are you asking me on a date?” he asked.

“Sure”

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

A/N: Last night I had the idea to post it here to ask you guys what you think. Tbh I feel like it need a bit more editing, like, there's a piece of dialogue I wrote for this scene but idk where to sandwich it.

Please let me know what you think! Feedback is appreciated as long as your polite

#lockwood and co #anthony lockwood #lockwood and co fanfiction #anthony lockwood x reader #lucy carlyle #george cubbins #george karim #netflixpleaserenewthisshowibegyou #anthony lockwood fic #anthony lockwood fanfiction #fanfic writing #fanfic wip

[hrryshoney]

gyno matty on a conference call presenting his work and she’s sitting between his legs with his dick in her mouth and she tries to pull some shit and he goes insanely mean dom on her afterwards…

omg leila… yes in every way imaginable! imagining this on a zoom while he’s working remote lol. (also mean dom💕💞💓) i feel like they hve established a safe word so do w that what u will

Matty’s in his home office, and you can hear the voices from his computer. He’s dressed nicely, no lab coat but something reminiscent of a uniform. His glasses are on and he looks highly professional. You, however, are anything but.

You’ve been horny for him all day, since he left you needy this morning. His mouth on your cunt, not letting you finish but promising you that he would later. He would if you were a ‘good girl’ for him, and you waited for him to finish his meeting. You’ve been rubbing your thighs together in bed, and then trying to distract yourself.

This evidently didn’t work, as now you’re standing outside his office and staring at him from the doorframe. His eyes glance towards you, offering you a smile and nothing more. When he all but ignores you, you decide to take matters into your own hands.

That’s how you got on your hands and knees and crawled towards him, and under his desk. That is also how you’ve been sitting under his desk, cock in your mouth for what feels like an eternity. Matty had turned his camera off when you did, trying to regroup and playing it off as internet issues.

He was stern with you, telling you to keep him warm and nothing else. That he would reward you if you listened. But the throb of your pussy is too much to ignore, and you keep shifting on your thighs. He’ll cast you a few looks now and again, none of them friendly. But other than that, you seemed to be invisible to him.

Your desperation got the better of you, taking your mouth off him to lick a stripe on the underside of his cock. You hear him falter as he speaks, a slight stutter. It makes you smile, knowing you can get him like this. You bob your head on him, spitting on his cock and making it as sloppy as you can.

Matty’s hand comes down under the desk, grabbing the back of your head and forcing the rest of his cock in your mouth. He keeps his hand there, but you purse your lips around him enough to swirl your tongue around his length. You hear his breath catch in his throat, and you know you’ve got him.

“Excuse me, I’m sorry. There’s a bit of an emergency in my house, can we reschedule the last part of this meeting?” From the strain of his voice, you know Matty’s on his last straw. You hear the ushering of other doctors. They’re all supportive, telling him to take his time, and that all this is trivial, it can wait. Matty must be well above respected in his field. But, what would his colleagues think if they could see you under the table with his cock in your mouth?

You hear him click on his keyboard, the room going silent. He’s left the call. Unfortunately for you, Matty looks mad. “Can’t be good for three fucking seconds? Always have to be a slut, huh?”

He’s rough, pulling from the roots of your hair so you look at him. You can’t help but smile, the corners of your mouth upturning. “I am being good for you, Doctor. I thought this was what you wanted?” You bait him, and he knows this. The poor on your lips, and wide round eyes. But, he falls for it every time.

“I know you’re too dumb to think when you’ve got my cock inside you, but I thought you were at least a little smart. Guess I thought too much of a whore like you.” Matty grabs your jaw roughly, surely leaving bruises. “Open your fucking mouth.”

You oblige, now wouldn’t be the best time for a snarky remark. He presses his thumb down on your tongue, making you gag slightly. When he removes his hand he spits directly in your mouth You swallow without second thought.

“Shouldn’t let you cum. Should just fuck your mouth, leave you here all wet and achey. S’what you deserve.” Your whines are immediate, you’re shaking your head and protesting his words.

“N-no please, Doctor Healy. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it. Just needed you, and I’ve needed you all morning. Please.” Your bottom lip wobbles, and you really could cry. You’ve been so needy all day. All you want is Matty. He doesn’t seem to care though when he scoffs.

He pumps his dick in his hand, smearing the pre-cum down his length and then tapping it on your bottom lip. “Don’t start with your tears, Princess. It meant nothing to you when I was in my meeting, huh? My job’s important, can’t just fuck you all day.” He pushes his cock into your mouth, watching your lips stretch around him. When you moan, he knows you like what you hear.

His degradation is making you squeeze your thighs together, squirming in place on your knees. “Bet you wish I could stay home and stuff you full all day. You’d be so happy, right? Little girl whose only responsibility is taking my dick.” He slaps your face, only allowing you to pull back when you gag around him. There’s tears streaming down your face now, and Matty’s smiling.

Matty pulls you off of him, lifting you up to face level to whisper in your ear. “If you’re crying now.. I’m scared for you, baby. Not even started with you yet, and you’re moaning like a bitch.” And he shoves you back onto your knees.

#gyno!au #yesss guys enjoy lol #if this isn’t good then.. you don’t even see it frl #i love mean dom but i fear i’m bad at writing it!

[chuuyasfanboy]

No request with this one, just me being self indulgent because I'm an IDV addict again and I love Postman!!! Wrote this all while doing rank, congratulate me on multitasking

Paperboy x Reader

I'm an avid believer in all the skins having different personalities

So while default Victor is more reserved (NOT shy, The Prince is the shy one), I believe Paperboy is the most extroverted right behind Keyboard

He's a different kind of extroverted though

He's more focused on his blog than real life people, and so most of the conversing he does is through online forums and the like

DOES NOT mean he's afraid of in person convos!

His whole propaganda gang is trying to get people to STOP relying on tech, of course he doesn't mind talking to people irl

He's way more outwardly neurodivergent than the other variants, could probably rant FOREVER about product design, logos, hmtl and css, etc. He's really passionate about what he does

He's definitely lacking in friends though, despite all that

Other than his Call of the Abyss gang, he really doesn't get to talk to many people

It's pretty saddening, because after the fourth (read: ten-thousandth) rant about Have Fun, the only one who will listen is Luca, maybe sometimes Will

He really doesn't mind, but he does wish he could tell more people about it, people he liked

This is where YOU come in!!!

Someone new to the squad, someone who's interested in what he has to say!

Plus, even if you don't understand any of it, he has a cute puppy, isn't that enough to lure you in?

Speaking of Wick (whomst I will be referring to with all pronouns because I've been told that dog is every gender and I don't know what to believe anymore), he's the sweetest puppy ever!

When she's not ruining Jose's little dj gigs and radioshows, they're the most well behaved dog you will ever meet!

Play fetch with it, he will bring the ball back and give you puppy kisses while she's at it!

Victor LOVES seeing the two of you interact, it makes his heart explode with joy

Yes, he does talk to Wick like they're a real person. No, you cannot stop him. No, he does not use a baby voice, he is entirely serious about it.

Write him letters, he's never gotten one, none of his variants have except for maybe Prince.

He'll be SO SO SO HAPPY he'll love you forever

That's probably what kickstarted his little crush, actually, because he definitely fell first AND harder

You probably sent him an anonymous fan letter, just trying to make sure he knew people liked his blogs

He nearly CRIED running around showing everybody else, and you just laughed all joyfully at his excitement

He vowed he would find out who wrote it and write them back a thousand more word of appreciation

Imagine his joy when he found out (read: doxxed the letter for info) it was you!!

Yeah, he actually cried this time

Happy tears, I swear!

He promised you he would never ever forget it, and you KNOW he didn't, because he still brings it up years later as the happiest day of his life

Since the Call of the Abyss movement advanced and began making a motion, he'd received so many more fan letters, messages on his blog, and other things of that nature

But yours? Pinned up on his wall, FRAMED in gold

Takes every chance he gets to show it off, even if everybodys seen it before

Back to more general headcanons, Victor is completely nonverbal

He communicates through his lil mask thing, projecting words on it

He also uses it for more practical things

Like spreading more anti-Metropolis propaganda!

When he wants you to understand some niche thing he's into, he projects a video essay on to the screen, makes you watch it like a movie

Even with his eyes obscured and his words filtered, he's still extremely expressive, and its easy to tell what he's feeling

His face goes REEEEED when he's flustered or embarassed

And his lips are so so cute when he pouts

The only person he actually talks to is Wick, he does it in private, very few people get to see it

Even with you and the others, he's never spoken, only grunted or giggled or something small to acknowledge what you've said

When the plan to expose the Aurora finally closed in, and the final day was approaching, he excitedly ran around showing off his latest design

The first real print he'd made, he'd been banned from most shops and had to be careful entering them because of the guards, so he hadn't gotten the chance to bring them into reality

But finally, after Luca managed to get him a nice printer and a lifetime supply of ink, he did it

They were gorgeous- or- not the right word

They were effective.

He's really a genius in the graphic design department, slaving away hours over his laptop creating the perfect logos to draw in attention

He was incredibly excited that he finally got to spread it the way he's always wanted to

And he really hopes its as effective as he's been told

Hopes that it will encourage people to go find the sun once more

Back to the cute fuzzy romance!

It's a little awkward to kiss him, considering he almost NEVER takes off his little mask

Sometimes he does, but he really wants to save it for when the sun rises on Metropolis, it's a big dream he has

You really have to tilt your head, but its very worth it

He's soft all around, hands, arms, lips

And also, he smells like lavender

Dont ask me how I know, but its canon, I was his perfume

He really likes flowers, even though he's only seen pictures

He thinks they're gorgeous, and he believes they'll smell even better in person, better than any scent a cheap perfume shop could provide (sorry Vera!)

While he may be hard to kiss, he loves hugs, the tighter the better

Even if he feels like he's being squeezed apart, the closeness makes him feel safe

He hopes sunlight feels that warm

Sometimes, he takes you out to the theatre to watch the Aurora

"To research," he'll tell you

But really, he's just a hypocrite

Even if she's false, she does have a beautiful voice

He would never deprive you of beautiful things

He figures two extra tickets can't do too much harm, right?

Take that unsure answer as you will.

#idv #identity v #idv x reader #identity v x reader #victor x reader #victor grantz x reader #postman x reader #paperboy x reader #idv paperboy #idv postman #x reader #victor grantz #requests open #male reader #female reader #gn reader