#Kieran culkin characters

[strang3lov3]

Out of Town

“And touch your nipples for me. Give them my love,” he instructs, and his phone makes static noises as you reach for your breasts. “‘Cause I really fuckin’ miss your tits, you know that?”

“I really miss you too,” you sigh softly, teasing your own nipples. Roman’s heart pounds at the comment. He’s certain you didn’t mean to say that, but you’re so addled you didn’t realize your little slip. He tucks your words away, saves them for later. 

Tags - Stepdaddy!Roman, uggghhhh this is a big one. okay. phone/facetime sex, masturbation (m & f), allusions to alcoholism, angst, blow jobs, cunnilingus, shower sex, unprotected freak nasty floor sex, creampie, multiple orgasms, daddy kink. 7k words. A/N - hey guys. thank you so, so much for your patience. i know it's been two fucking months since i last updated stepdaddy but uh....life moves pretty quick when it's got you by the balls and you've felt like you're being hunted for sport every day since january 1st pretty much. so yeah, thanks ♡ i hope this delivers. i know you missed daddy romey. he missed you too.

This hotel room feels lonely. Cold, too. Roman’s in his boxer briefs, his skin and hair damp from his shower, as he paces on the stiff, neatly patterned carpet. Everything about this luxury suite reminds him of how much he misses you. The king sized bed that’s meant to be slept in by two, the bathtub with two seats, two sets of jets. The shower with two shower heads. You should be here. He could’ve taken you with him on this business trip, taken you out on proper dates like real people do.

He’s thinking about that hug you gave him when he left early in the morning about a week ago. You were all sleepy but insisted upon waking up early to see him go. Roman hugged you tightly, savoring the way you just…melted in his arms. “What, are you gonna miss me or something?” he’d murmured softly in your ear. 

“Something,” you replied. 

He’s been texting you this whole time. You’ve been texting him. Playing iMessage games during those boring-ass meetings, competing to see who would beat New York Times’ daily Wordle and Connections puzzles first. Roman texts you a picture of a little green lizard on the back of his hand, and you text him a picture of a goose and a bird-shit covered sidewalk you see while out and about. He laughs.

Fuck, Roman misses you. He really fucking does. He picks up his phone and unlocks it, then opens the phone app. His thumb hovers over your name as he contemplates calling you. Do people like…do people do this still? Just call to catch up? Probably, right? But it’s also probably weird if he does it. Then again, he’s your stepdad and he cares about you and whatever, and he’s calling you.  

You pick up on the first ring. 

“Roman?” 

You sound a little out of breath, maybe? Roman wonders what that’s about “Uh, h-hey, you,” Roman says, pinching the bridge of his nose when his voice cracks. “Hi.”

“Hi.” And annoyed, too.

A silence hangs for a second longer than what’s comfortable. Roman’s not really sure what to say, and neither are you. He clears his throat. “I uh - I had groceries delivered to the house,” he says. “Did you get those? The fuckin’...snacks and whatever.”

And whatever. He added a couple bottles of nail polish to the order. You’re already wearing the colors he picked out, wiggling your toes to watch the pretty color shift. He knows you like your sparkles. 

“Yeah, I got those,” you answer flatly while examining your self-done manicure, shifting in bed. “The nail polish you chose is fucking ugly.” 

“Uh huh,” Roman laughs quietly, picturing you right now.

…But do you actually hate the colors, or are you just - you know. Being you? He wonders, but tries not to think too hard about it. Roman changes the subject then.  “You warm enough over there? Know how to change the thermostat?”

“Yep.” 

“Sleeping alright?”

“Yep.” He doesn’t believe this. 

“And your mom, is she…” Roman trails off, wincing at the sound of you sighing deeply through his receiver. 

“She’s been at Erica’s the past few days.” 

Roman nods. That figures. “Okay. What about food, huh? What have you been eating for breakfast? Did you see I got you some of those-”

“Cereal,” you snap, cutting him off. You hold up your hand closer to your face and frown at the chips in your manicure, and the weird indents in the paint. You should’ve waited until they were dry. “This nail polish is already chipping.”

“Yeah, that tracks. You fuckin’ sound like you’ve been eating just cereal.” Roman stops pacing. “I need you to be eating real shit, okay? Real fucking food. Don’t be a dick and eat just fucking butter noodles.” 

Roman can hear you scoff on the other end of the phone. He can picture it perfectly: the way you’re probably glaring, your lips pressed together in a thin line, the twitch of your jaw as it clenches. He’s patient with you, but to a point. It’s been a long fucking week, and he’s reached that point. He doesn’t know what he expected when he called you but he knows he didn’t expect whatever this is.

“Just fuck off, Roman.” 

Roman goes quiet, taken aback. You’ve told him to fuck off a million times, but usually with sarcasm lacing your tone. Or at the least, when Roman deserves to be told to fuck off. But tonight, what’s he doing to you that’s so deserving of your contempt? “Yeah? Fuck off, huh?” Roman switches the hand he holds his phone with. “What’s your fucking deal? I’m just trying to talk to you. Can I not talk to you anymore? Is that what this is?” 

The hurt in Roman’s voice has you feeling guilty immediately. You didn’t actually mean any of that, and you’re not truly mad at him. It’s just been complicated since he’s been gone. You miss him, you miss your routine with him, and you, well…

“Wait - I’m sorry,” you sigh. “Don’t go.” 

“No, it’s fine. I’ll fuck right off, alright? Wish granted. Goodb–”

“Don’t go,” you repeat. “It - it’s not you, Roman, I’m sorry for being like that. I just…” Roman sits down on the edge of his neatly made bed and bounces on the mattress as he waits for you to continue. “It’s nothing, just forget it. It’s…yeah. Nothing. You can…yeah - fuck off, I guess,” you tell him quietly, “I’m really sorry.”

Roman’s brows furrow. “Hold on. What’s nothing?”

“Nothing,” you say tightly. You twirl your little purple vibrator between your fingers, thinking back to the first time Roman fucked you. You haven’t used your vibrator since that night, but you just might tonight. “I’ll text you tomorrow.”

“I smell bullshit. C’mon,” Roman says. “Fess the fuck up.” 

“No. You’re gonna make fun of me.” 

Roman’s ears perk up at that, a crooked smile curling up at the corner of his mouth. “Well, yeah, but I always make fun of you, dummy. So tell me anyway. I’m not - you know - fucking off until you do.” 

Roman waits patiently for you to summon the words, still bouncing a little on the hotel bed. Finally, you speak.  

“I haven’t been able to come since you left.”

Ohhh. There it is. Amused, Roman sits still, quirks an eyebrow and fully smiles. “Oh yeah?” he purrs, “Is that why you’re all pissed off?” You answer him with an affirmative hum. He scoots back on his mattress, reaching under his boxer briefs to palm himself. “Are you sure you’re doing it right?”

“Roman, come on.”

“Just asking. It’s just a simple, friendly, no-ulterior-motives-at-all question.”

His answer makes your heart pound a little harder. “I am positive I’m doing it right,” you answer, now smiling at the direction the conversation turned. 

“I dunno…I think,” Roman says, “That it sounds like you need Daddy’s help.” You adjust in bed, then spread your legs. You hold your phone between your shoulder and your ear as you reach for your clit beneath your panties, breath hitching in your throat. “Oh my god, are you doing it right now? You’re totally fucking yourself.”

“Mhm. Well, trying to,” you mumble. 

“You’re shameless. Stop it,” Roman demands, squeezing his cock as he works himself. “And touch your nipples for me, hm? Give them my love,” he instructs, and his phone makes static noises as you reach for your breasts. “‘Cause I really fuckin’ miss your tits, you know that?”

“I really miss you too,” you sigh softly, teasing your own nipples. Roman’s heart skips at the comment. He’s certain you didn’t mean to say that, but you’re so addled you didn’t realize your little slip. He tucks your words away, saves them for later. He’s already rolling them over in his mind, listening to them over again.

“Keep touching them,” he says. He pulls his cock from the confines of his underwear, now fully erect. He rubs the tip with his thumb and collects the small amount of precum there, then sucks his finger. “Mm. Had a long day,” he mumbles. “Another fuckin’ meeting. We had sandwiches catered for lunch. What’d you eat for lunch, sweetheart?”

“Forgot to eat lunch,” you sigh, licking your fingers before tracing them around your areolas. Your nipples pebble up under your own touch, and you hum at the gentle, tingling pleasure. 

“That’s a shame,” Roman says. “Only girls who remember to eat right get to cum. So you’re shit outta luck, then, huh?”

“No!” you giggle, squeezing the flesh of your breasts. “I’ll eat something real for dinner, I promise. Just…just…”

“Just what?”

You moan quietly, sliding your hand down your body. “Can I touch my clit, Daddy?” you whisper. 

“Ohhh, I suppose. Only ‘cause you asked so nicely,” Roman replies. He brings his palm to his mouth and spits into it, then pumps his cock slowly. Part of him wants to make you torture yourself at his instruction, but Roman decides against it. He needs this as much as you do. 

You reach under your panties and slide your fingers down your slit, sighing at how much wetter you are now. And all it took was a little sweet talking from Roman. 

Roman leans over the side of the bed, grabbing something from his suitcase. He clutches it in one hand as he strokes himself with the other, holding his phone tightly between his ear and shoulder, the same as you. “Oh, fuck,” he moans. “Wait - what the fuck are we doing?”

“What?” you pant, “Rome–”

“We have FaceTime, for fuck’s sake,” Roman says, switching to that feature. Your screen changes then and it’s Roman’s gorgeous face splitting into a smile when he sees you. “There you are.” 

“Oh, hi,” you giggle. You set one of your pillows down at the edge of the bed, then place your phone against it so Roman can get a full view of you. You’re wiggling your fingers under your panties, you fucking tease. 

“Ooh, smart fucking cookie, that’s a good idea.” Roman does the same, then goes back to stroking his cock. He’s quieter than usual, not really focused on telling you exactly how to touch yourself. You thought that’s what you needed from him, but his presence is enough, even digitally. Roman watches you in his little screen, dipping your fingers at your slick hole before dragging them up again to circle your clit. “Better?” he pants.

“No,” you breathe. “Doesn’t feel as good when I have to do it myself.” 

Roman lets out a loud laugh, and god does he look fucking gorgeous like that. Legs spread, fucking his fist. Head thrown back against his pillow, wearing a smile as he moans freely. If you were with him - really with him - you’d see the pretty flush on his cheeks and chest. “You’re fucking spoiled.” 

You and Roman touch yourselves together until you’re cumming at the same time, thousands of miles apart. You slip your panties off and show Roman the way you’ve soaked them, and gasp when Roman shows you that he’s done the same - his favorite pair of your panties are stained in his own cum. “You stole my panties?” you laugh. “That’s what you were holding?”

“Mhm.”

The post orgasm haze feels good. You catch up with Roman and the conversation flows naturally, until it doesn’t. Poor connection on his end, then on yours. You should be snuggling right now. You can’t fucking wait until he’s home. 

“Hey,” Roman says, his face frozen on your screen. “I’m gonna switch to my iPad, okay? My phone’s too fuckin’ hot. God, I hate iPhones. Gonna call you right back.” 

Roman grabs his iPad from his suitcase and opens the black leather case, and it doesn’t ask him for a passcode. Odd. He barely uses the fucking thing anyway. It’s not until he accidentally taps the photos app instead of FaceTime that he realizes he brought your mom’s iPad, and not his. They have the same case, anyway.

The photo library is all full of pictures from your mom’s phone. Selfies, pictures of her manicures she paid for with Roman’s credit card, weird and blurry photos she’s accidentally taken. He chuckles. There’s all sorts of pictures of her and Erica out and about together, at bars and concerts that he doesn't even realize she attended - not that he gives a shit. There’s a video in her and Roman’s shared bedroom - Roman opens this, and his eyebrows raise when he presses play. Your mom and Erica are naked and drinking from a champagne bottle, kissing and dancing and fucking. His jaw drops, and he lets out a scoff. He’s not…not mad, really. He cares fuck all about your mom and whether or not she’s faithful - it’s not like he is, anyway. Roman simply files this away, then calls you back. 

Your heart pounds when you get a call from your mom’s iCloud email address, and answer it cautiously. Relief is not strong enough of a word to describe how it feels to see Roman’s face instead of hers. “Oh, thank god. You grabbed Mom’s iPad, I’m guessing?” You’re no longer in your bedroom, instead in the kitchen. You stick a popsicle in your mouth, then head back to your room. 

“Mhm. Hot, by the way,” Roman says, smiling when you make a show of sucking on the treat, moving your tongue in all sorts of lewd manners while cherry-flavored juice drips down your chin. When you’re back in your room, Roman clears his throat and scratches the back of his head. He’s quiet again.  

“Rome? Everything okay?”

“Hm? Oh, yeah,” Roman lies, going back to the video. You watch him on your screen, his eyes narrowed and not looking at your image, pressing his lips together as he thinks. “Uhh…kinda weird - weird question,” he begins. 

“Uh huh…?”

“Your mom and Erica��?”

“They’re totally fucking.” 

Roman raises an eyebrow. “You knew?”

You pull the popsicle from your mouth with a quiet pop. “It’s obvious, Roman.” 

“Okay. Well,” he says, “Take a wild guess at what I just found.” 

Roman tells you about the sex tape and giggles at all the disgusted noises and faces you make, begging him not to describe it any further. “What do we even like - do we do anything?” 

“I mean, do you give a shit? I don’t give a shit,” Roman says, running his hand through his hair. It’s all floppy now that it’s dry and there’s no styling cream in it. You love it like that.

“I guess I don’t either, as long as she keeps whatever fucking comments to herself. God. Whatever. More power to her,” you say. 

“I’m watching it again,” Roman says. “You totally have the same ass.” 

You giggle and groan, “Oh my god, shut the fuck up. Shut up,” you tell him, and Roman does. It’ll be another one of your shared inside jokes or something. 

After a few more minutes, you yawn. Roman yawns too. “Hey, wait a sec,” he says. “Did you ever eat dinner?” 

“Oh, you know. I had that popsicle,” you mumble all sleepy. 

“You said to me that you’d eat a real dinner,” he says. “Not a fucking popsicle.” 

You smirk, laying on your side, eyes gently closing. “I’m gonna have a good breakfast,” you tell him. 

“Uh huh. You better. I wanna see fuckin’ protein and fruit and all of that shit on your plate. You promise me.” 

“Okay, okay. I promise.” 

There’s a soft, electronic hum from the silence as you begin to drift off to sleep, your bedroom lights still on. With Roman’s phone is now cooled, and he uses an app to turn those fancy, overpriced lights off, then turns the lights off in his own hotel room. He puts the iPad on the pillow next to the one he rests his head on, chuckling as you snore a little. 

One more week. 

-

Like a dog, you wait by your window for Roman to come home. When his driver pulls up to the curb, you sprint down the stairs and past the kitchen where your mom and Erica hang out together, nearly tripping as you rush to greet him in the doorway. You almost tackle him when you wrap him in the tightest hug you can muster, kissing his neck as many times as you can sneak in, running your hands down his back and arms. “Okay,” he laughs, toeing off his shoes, unbalanced as you restrict his movement. “Yeah, it’s me. Daddy’s home or whatever. You gonna fuckin’ cream your pants?”

“Yes,” you answer, burying your face in his neck. He smells different, like laundry detergent he doesn’t usually use to wash his clothes with. You can’t decide if you like it or not.

“Give me a fucking second, Jesus Christ. I’m here. I’m not leaving ag–” You shut him up with a kiss that startles you both, so brazen in such an open space. “Watch it,” he warns, and your eyes widen. Roman kisses you again, pinches your ass, and swallows your squeal of delight as he smiles against your lips. 

You follow Roman into the kitchen where he helps himself to a snack, quickly picking off of some fucking expensive-ass charcuterie board your mom had ordered. He idly wonders how much that set him back. Whatever.

“Roman’s home!” your mom slurs, swaying in the barstool in front of the kitchen island. Erica’s next to her, smiling politely. Already, there’s something tense in the air.

“Uh…hi,” he says quietly, confused. Roman can’t remember the last fucking time your mom said hi to him. 

They’re listening to some old, obnoxious music on a Bose bluetooth speaker Roman had given your mother for her birthday some years ago. Erica’s nursing a glass of wine, your mom’s on her second glass of vodka and Gatorade, which isn’t smart. For an alcoholic, she’s a lightweight. 

“You miss us, Roman?”

Roman reaches for a clementine and begins peeling it. “Uh huh, yep. Sure did. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, you know. However it goes.” He splits the clementine down the middle and mindlessly hands you a half, something he’s always done. You watch your mom look Roman up and down, her eyes glossy and narrowed at him. He raises his eyebrows at her while biting into a cracker. “Everything okay?”

“He’s fucking handsome, isn’t he?” she drawls, sliding out of her seat. Roman makes a face at the comment. So does Erica. “Think he fucked someone while he was gone?” 

Zero to fucking one hundred. But that’s how it goes with her though, right? Erica seems weirded out, oddly enough. She laughs awkwardly and says your mother’s name, her half-hearted attempt at reeling her in. You’d think she’d be used to this, and maybe tolerates it. “Oh, c’mon. Be honest. You think he’s gonna trade me in for the younger model?”

You don’t say anything. Roman doesn’t say anything. Not even Erica speaks. Everyone seems to just know protocol, to let her get her belligerence out of her system. It’s like dealing with a toddler. If you don't entertain them, they lose interest and move onto the Next Big Thing. 

It still stings to be around, and it makes your heart pound so hard you can feel it in your stomach. She’s not a happy woman when she’s sober, but she’s worse when she’s drunk. Picking fights that nobody wins, but does it matter? She craves the fight, and she’s looking for it right now. It’s odd that Roman of all people is her target tonight, and not you. Not that Roman fucking cares. What’s she gonna do to him, anyway? You look at him nervously, and he looks back at you quickly, sympathetically. He says nothing, and yet you know what he’s telling you. No, she doesn’t know shit. And she wouldn’t give a fuck even if she did. She’s not even gonna remember this in the morning. 

It’s that touchy sort of moment during her inebriation in which you know things could go so, so fucking wrong, but if the three of you all play your cards right, it’ll pass.

Your mom rounds the island and kisses Roman on the cheek, all fucking sloppy and just…gross. He scrunches his face a little at the scent of vodka on her breath, and that cloying, awful perfume she wears. A $600 price tag doesn’t make it a good fragrance. He likes your expired Bath & Body Works sprays better. 

He gently avoids her attempt at a hug. “Oh, you know - you’re fucking sweet, uh….But I’m fuckin’ - I’m gross. You don’t wanna hug me.” Roman squirms away from her touch. “You know what, I’m gonna shower and then I’ll be back, alright?”

“Promise?”

“Promise,” Roman lies, then turns to you. “And you,” he says, “Are gonna help me with my fuckin’ bags. It’s about time you did some hard work for once in your life, huh? Fuckin’ spoiled-ass brat. C’mon.” Roman pats your back awkwardly, then wraps his arm around your back and ushers you toward the doorway. We’re fucking out of here.

“Oh, please. You can do it yourself, Rome,” your mom says. “Be a fucking man. We’re having a girls’ night.” 

Roman doesn’t argue, knowing it’s a lost cause. he takes his hand off your body, looking defeated. You smile sympathetically at him, lips pressed together tightly. You tried, Roman. It’s okay. I’ll be fine. He sighs before he spins on his heel and walks toward the staircase, anxiously scratching at the back of his head. Fuck. 

Your mom waves Roman off with a dismissive flick of her wrist and a middle finger to match, already focusing her attention back to you and Erica. “Girl’s night,” she repeats, taking her place back at the kitchen island. You laugh, as if that was even a thing - this is a move of hers. Sort of…forcing a situation, social interaction from others. Trying to make herself seem friendlier or more liked than she actually is. You think it’s her loneliness or her control issues, or maybe a combination of the two. She pours more vodka in her glass. “Quit being so fucking weird and sit down, huh? Sit with your mom, for once. You owe me that.”

Your throat tightens as you pull out a stool, and then Erica speaks. “Oh, fuck,” she says. You furrow your brows in confusion when you see she’s looking at you. “I need–”

“What do you need?” your mom slurs.

“My medication. Forgot to take it with dinner,” Erica mumbles, looking around the kitchen. “Where’d I put my purse?”

Your mom looks confused but helps Erica look anyway, stumbling through the kitchen and dining room. Erica says your name, gives you another look. It’s an intentional, lingering stare. Her eyes are wide as she motions toward the room’s doorway. “Help me find it, please?”

“Yeah,” your mom adds, her tone demanding. “Go fucking help her.” 

The perfect out. You never much cared for Erica, and found her to be an enabler of your mom’s drinking and other bad habits, but you’re thankful for her at this moment. You’re curious about what she sees in your mom, why she sticks around…whatever. Not your fucking monkeys, not your fucking circus. 

You head up the stairs to “look” for Erica’s conveniently missing purse, and make a beeline for Roman in his and your mother’s shared bathroom. You’re thrown off by your mom tonight, but this is her, right? It could’ve been worse. And anyway, you don’t even want to think about it right now. You just want to be with Roman. 

So after successfully sneaking away, you tiptoe into your mother’s bedroom, taking quiet, careful steps toward that ensuite bathroom where you can hear Roman showering, like he said he would. The light glows yellow from in between the cracks of the door and the doorframe, a bit of steam pouring out. You open the door quietly, then close it again, conscious to click that little lock into place. 

Roman showers in silence. While you undress, you let yourself watch him. You admire his blurred figure through the glass, those exquisite lines of his body, the perfect cut of his waist and his beautiful ass. He scrubs his hair, then shakes his head a little as he rinses the suds out.

He jumps and yelps when you open the shower door, letting yourself in. “Jesus Christ! Did you forget how to knock, or what?”

“The former.”

The look on his face immediately turns into a smile, his sharp little canines on display. He looks just like a dream, water and delicate soap cascading down his soft and toned body, hair slicked back, eyelashes wet. He’s so relieved to see you, to know you’re away from her, and safe with him. Hopefully you ate enough. He’s not letting you downstairs again tonight.

“Oh, sure. Just let yourself in, yeah. I’m not like, showering or anything. Can’t get five minutes to myself, can I? Is nothing sacred anymore?”

“Please shut the fuck up,” you whisper through a smile. “I don’t understand why you never stop talking.” 

You quiet Roman with a soft kiss, holding the sides of his face as water falls over you both. He matches your kiss, his arms wrapping around your torso. One hand on your back, the other squeezing your ass. You kiss his jaw next, down the lovely column of his neck, his collarbones…

“H-hey.” Roman pulls away from you, searching your face with worried eyes, and holds your cheeks in his hands. “Was everything okay? Are you okay? Was she - did she, like…I tried to - you know. But I didn’t think–”

“I’m okay, it was okay,” you promise. Roman seems to want to know details. “But I don’t wanna talk about it,” you tell him. “Maybe later.”

“Okay. Maybe later.” 

You go back to kissing Roman, sinking into the heat of it, into him. His lips are warm, slick, parting just enough for you to breathe him in. His hands bracket your jaw, thumbs stroking over your cheekbones. 

He tilts his head, deepening the kiss, so slow and deliberate. The taste of him spreads over your tongue—clean, warm. Him. His mouth moves against yours, teasing and coaxing, until you sigh against him, melting under his touch.

Roman hums, low and satisfied, before licking into your mouth—lazily at first, like he’s savoring it. Then firmer, more insistent. The wet slide of his tongue sends a shiver down your spine, heat curling low in your stomach. His grip tightens, fingertips pressing into your skin, his body pressing into yours. You wriggle from his grasp a little, just enough to allow yourself the space to drop to your knees. 

Roman’s cock is already hard. You take him gently in your hand, kissing and licking at the underside of his tip. “Oh, fu - okay. Oh, wow,” he gasps, pushing the wet strands of your hair away from your face. “That’s how it is, huh? How we’re doing things?” 

“Mhm.”

“Someone really fuckin’ missed me, didn’t she? Did you miss Daddy when he was gone, sweetheart?”

You shake your head, and Roman lets out a laugh. He leans back a little, arms outstretched to adjust the shower head, making sure that water’s not spraying you in the eyes or something. He can be sweet like that, a gentleman. Roman groans loudly when you take his head in your mouth and suck him, then reaches for your face and gently holds you, stroking your skin. “Well fuck, whatever then. I missed you,” he admits, staring down at your beautiful, wide eyes. “Kinda.”

Beads of water roll down Roman’s gorgeous body as you take him further into your mouth. You hold the back of one of his thighs, sliding your hand up, up until you’re palming the tight flesh of his ass cheek, using your grip on his body for stability as you work him. You move the hand that’s on your face away, and hold it tightly. Roman gives you a tight squeeze in return. 

“Okay - okay, fuck. I’m not - it’s been a while, you know? I’m not gonna - fuck.”

You push your head forward, drooling on the entire length of his cock. You trace the underside of his shaft with your tongue, drawing sloppy lines as you bob back and forth, lazily fucking your mouth on his cock. 

Roman watches you in admiration, allowing himself to feel enveloped in the pleasure you create. Your eyes are shut as you swirl your tongue around his tip, but you look up at him as you slide down the rest of the way. What a fucking sight. Your mouth and your tongue are both so velvety and warm and wet, and Roman’s cock is beginning to twitch. “Hey–” he squeezes your hand rapidly. “I’m gonna cum, honey. S-stop,” he moans. 

His blunt, short fingernails dig into the skin of your hand as he tries to stave off his release, not wanting this moment to be over just yet. There’s still so much he wants to do with you, to you…fuck. But it’s happening - Roman’s breathing heavily as that feeling blooms deep in his stomach, and he lets out a loud, guttural groan as he cums into your mouth. 

It’s been so long since you’ve tasted that lovely, salty warmth of his. You let it coat your tongue and down your throat as he cums in thick spurts, and you don’t stop sucking until he pushes you away. You swallow every drop of spend Roman gives you before kissing and licking at his balls, running your hand down the elegant lines of his legs. 

Roman pulls you to your feet, panting heavily. You wipe a little soap off of his forehead with his hand still holding yours, then let him go. “I’ll leave you to it, then,” you mumble. 

You open the shower door and take one step onto the fancy bath mat, and are then pulled back into the shower with Roman, his hand gripping your forearm. “You fucking come back here,” he murmurs, tugging you close as he shuts off the water. “Where do you think you’re going, huh? You fucking heathen, dry off first. Jesus Christ.”

You giggle as Roman kisses you, then brushes past you to pull his towel off of the hook. He’s gentle as he dries you off from head to toe, then uses the damp, used towel to pat himself off. “C’mon.” Roman swats you on the ass as he ushers you out of the bathroom, rolling his eyes at your laughter and the giddy little steps you take. You pull him towards the bed, smiling so big. “Yeah, no fuckin’ way. Not that one,” Roman laughs. “It’s been sufficiently christened by your mom and her lover downstairs. I know because I’ve seen it.” 

You scrunch your face, hiding behind Roman as he carefully opens the bedroom door, looking both ways before sneaking into the hall. “You’re so fucking gross,” you tell him. He doesn’t reply beyond smirking and wiggling his brows.

He takes your hand as he rushes to your bedroom, the two of you naked and dripping water on the hardwood floor. Roman stubs his toe and hisses “Fuck!” stumbling into your bedroom and taking you down with him. The fall makes the room shake, and you laugh even harder when he slams the door shut harder and louder than he meant to. “Shut the fuck up,” he says, covering your mouth as he turns the lock. 

Roman keeps you right there on the floor, laying on your plush carpeting as he kneels above you. His smile falls then, replaced with something more serious. His eyes are sparkling and full of life, love as he stares down at you, taking in your body. It makes you feel shy, almost. Insecure. 

Roman lowers himself and kisses you softly, a hand on your neck with his thumb on your jaw. You moan against his lips, arching into his touch as you seek his warmth. His hand slides down your neck, down your sides and up again until he’s palming your breast, gently groping the flesh there. 

He bends and pushes your thighs up and back, his warm breath fanning over your hot, slick cunt. He spreads your lips wide, his eyes flickering from your throbbing, aching pussy up to your eyes, his mouth parted just a little. You swallow hard when Roman runs his thumb up your seam, and let out a shaky breath as he presses his lips against you. 

“I-” Roman says, “Missed you,” mumbling between kisses, nipping at the soft, delicate skin of your inner thighs, “So fucking much.” You’re dripping down yourself, gasping when Roman licks your mess. “Do you know that?” 

“I know. Told me a bunch,” you murmur, propping yourself up on your elbows to look at him. He’s got his arms wrapped around your thighs, keeping your body close to his mouth. Nose buried in that most special place. His damp hair is in his face a little, and you push it out of his way as best you can. Roman licks you from bottom to top, the muscles in his back twitching as he moves his head. “Oh, Roman.” 

He rounds your clit a couple of times before repeating that slow, long lick. There’s a quiet hum of the air conditioner and sweet, wet, breathy noises coming from Roman, but aside from that, the room is quiet. 

Roman pushes you onto your back ever so gently, allowing himself more space to eat you as he pleases. Fuck, he misses the way you taste. It’s something that he couldn’t describe with a gun to his head. So sweet, so musky, so…you. You’re his favorite fucking thing. 

He dips his tongue inside you, tasting your arousal, swirling it around. You reach for his face, tracing your finger along the bridge of his nose, up his forehead until you’re combing his hair and twirling the strands around.

Roman’s face is fucking soaked. He pulls back to wipe your slick onto your inner thighs, then kisses you a little. When he brings his mouth back to your cunt, his fingers join in. Two long, slender digits slide into you, and curl up against that lovely little spot deep inside you. Roman licks your clit and fucks you on his fingers, making you squirm and whine and writhe. “Shh,” he reminds you.

He eats you like you’re the first proper meal he’s had in days, and really, you are. It all builds quickly, blooming deep in your abdomen and rolls down your legs and up your spine. You cum so hard and Roman works you through it, licking and licking until you’re shivering and twitching and gushing into his hand, a light sheen of sweat covering your naked body. 

Roman pulls away from you, licks his palm clean of your arousal and then strokes his cock, fully erect again. He’s not fucking done with you. Not even close. Roman kneels over you and lowers his body, lining up with your entrance. He pushes just the tip in, then pulls out, drags his cock up and down your seam. He repeats the action with his forehead pressed against yours, his smile so wide as you beg for him to just fuck you. “Please,” you whimper. 

“Uh-huh,” Roman grunts, fucking into you in one quick, suave thrust that has you both moaning, catching your breath. You missed him like this. He missed you like this. Just lying here, your cunt wrapped around his cock and kissing his lips would be enough, you think. 

Until he pulls out of you - just a little, and pushes back inside. His cockhead kisses your cervix and brushes past your g-spot on the way there. You moan as he thrusts into you, so slow and deep and intentional. Roman keeps your mouth covered until he decides fuck it, he wants to hear you. Deserves to hear you. 

He loves the way you wrap yourself around his body, clinging so tightly to him. Legs crossed over his hips, one arm hugging his shoulders, scratching at the skin of his back. Your other hand cradles his head. The side of his face is pressed against yours and you make the sweetest, softest sounds together as he fucks you. No words spoken, just taking what you need from one another, savoring the moment. 

The pleasure is blinding for you both, and Roman makes you lean into it. He rubs your clit as he fucks you, bringing you to orgasm once, then twice. He has to hold his breath and bite his lip as you clench around him, trying so hard not to cum yet. He’s all sweaty and his chest and cheeks are flushed bright red. Roman looks almost pained as he tries to keep it together. 

“Roman,” you breathe, holding his face in your hands. “Cum for me.” 

“I know, I know. I don’t - not yet,” Roman pants, taking your hands off of his face. He pins them above your head, squeezing his fingers tightly. 

“Why?” you ask. 

“‘Cause I don’t - fuck. I don’t want this to be over yet, baby,” he admits quietly. You aww at him, smiling at his softness. “Yeah, shut up,” he mumbles, and kisses your forehead as he fucks you apart, breathing hot against your skin. “Just humor me, for fuck’s sake.” 

You roll your hips into his thrusts, coaxing along his release on your own. “Oh, you’re such a fucking–” Roman doesn’t finish the sentence. He grunts as he licks his fingertips, then reaches between your bodies so you can cum with him. When you feel that pleasure deep in your gut, so does Roman. The rapid pulsing of your cunt and the way you soak his cock has Roman making noises louder than he intends to, his orgasm washing over him in such a deliriously heady way. And you, you’re lost in it, riding the waves of your own pleasure as Roman pumps you full of warm, sticky cum, more than he usually does. It spills out of you a little when he pulls you close and flops onto his back, happily pinned beneath you. 

He kisses your neck and hugs you tighter against him when you pull away a little. “Don’t go,” he tells you. “What’s the fuckin’ rush, huh? Just stay with me. Pretend you like me,” Roman jokes softly, looking up at you and pushing some hair out of your face. He swallows thickly as he searches your eyes and rubs your cheekbone with his thumb, hoping you don’t really have to pretend. 

“But your back,” you argue, smiling kindly. “Probably shouldn’t lay on the floor.” 

Roman rolls his eyes. “Alright, fuck you. My back is fine, thanks. Not that fucking old.” He lets you go then, his body already missing the warmth and weight of yours. You offer him a hand as you stand up, but he swats it away and gets up on his own. He flops in your bed, watching as you leave to use the bathroom. He catches his reflection on the TV before he turns it on - hair wild, skin still flushed. 

When you return to him, Roman kisses you. “You’re so pretty,” he says. “You know that?” 

“I know,” you mumble. 

You lay with him as he picks out a show to stream - Always Sunny. He keeps the lights low, running his fingers up and down your back as you drip his cum onto his thigh. It’s a mess that he welcomes.

Uncomfortable, Roman shifts and reaches behind himself to pull something from under his head, one of your bras. “Oops,” you whisper, a little embarrassed. 

Roman folds the bra in half and aims for the laundry basket across your room. “If I make this, you owe me a kiss,” he says. 

“Deal.” 

He misses, tells you to fuck off when you laugh at him, and kisses you anyway. 

The volume on the TV is low, and it’s so quiet and comfortable being here with him. You stare at Roman, watching the screen reflected in his irises. “You have green eyes,” you whisper. 

Roman raises his eyebrows, then looks down at you. “Do I?”

“Mhm...mm-mm.” You change your mind, studying him closer. “No. Maybe? They’re like, hazel-y,” you say. “Well, and also green,” you add. 

Roman smiles, says nothing. You trace the features on his face, committing each one to memory. The freckles and the mole on his cheek that used to be more prominent when he was younger; you’ve seen the pictures. You picture those softer boyish features of his, considering how they’ve matured with his age. The stupid haircut he used to have. You yawn, dropping your hand. 

“You’ve been getting enough sleep lately?” Roman asks, his voice all soft and gentle.

The question throws you off a little. “Are you trying to say I look tired?”

He shakes his head. “Not at all. M’just thinking about you.” 

It’s so profoundly tender and caring, it sort of makes you balk. A beat passes before you shake your head. “No. I don’t always sleep so well,” you answer.

“Yeah. I know.” 

Roman reaches for you, and pushes some hair out of the way. He scratches your scalp, then traces your ears with his fingertips. He’s never done that before. It feels good, and warm, somehow.  

“I felt kind of anxious when you were gone,” you admit, closing your eyes as you nuzzle into his neck. “Just didn’t feel good.”  

“Yeah? Why’s that?”

You shrug, then go quiet. There’s a scene on the TV Roman knows you always laugh at, and he imagines hearing you do so. “Ohh, god. I fuckin’ love you,” he laughs, face heating up when you don’t respond. And then, the quietest of snores. You’re even drooling onto his shoulder. “Oh.” 

You didn’t hear it, but at least Roman said it. He’s known for a while that he loves you, and he wonders if you love him too. Fuck, he hopes. He writes those three words on your arms, your back, your sides. He’ll tell you tomorrow. Make you your special blueberry pancakes, the whole thing. Figure out the next steps later. 

a reblog or an ask is always nice :) i missed you guys. it's been a tough time lately. nice and dirty thots would be kindly welcomed.

romey tags :)

@gaeela-6 @bean-is-reading @slutsoutgutsout

@galarian-weezing-on-prep @cum-a-calla @pastelpinkflowerlife @kolsmikaelson @moth-maam56

@kothku @cult-of-escapism @swiftiegirliepop @bluecookies-and-ink

@kappasbbgirl @magpiepills @highinmiamiii @verstappensrealwife @thesummerpetrichor

@lilipads @luiscarrutherss @baronessvonglitter @myromeow

@doll-0f-flesh @always-andromeda @causesimmer @pedropascalbabygirl

@baloobalee @slimybeth69 @pearlstiare @romanisbrat @callsignwidow @ziggymars

@perpetuallymanic @111melo @veryverycoolgirl @marisemonteiroo

@prettybpdgirl @butuhaventseenmyman @drunkdriverkillerwhale @fawnjaw @fadedviolets @flowercrowns-goodvibes @foursgurlx @hotdadlvr95 @keepinnitundercover

[greenduvet]

flowers she gave him pt. 1

A/N: Hi loves!! So excited to finally share this story that has been brewing in my head for what feels like forever. I haven’t posted any of my writing publicly for years! So this is a big step for me, and I just couldn’t keep these thoughts to myself any longer. I want to say the biggest thank you to @luiscarrutherss and @galarian-weezing-on-prep for not only reading the early draft but making me feel excited to write and share my story. Also my girlfriend for helping me edit and watching succession. This will be a friends to lovers slow burn, so if that’s your jam like mine stick around! Anyways, enjoy mwah!

The floor was silent. Most people had gone home hours ago, the lights off in most offices. It was always so odd this time of night — looking out over all the different worlds happening just below, life continued on so vividly yet it felt so stiff and halted here.

It wasn’t the plan to have been here this late. Really he should have picked you up hours ago, the dinner reservation that had been made earlier this week now way past check in.

The reservation was Roman’s idea. Maybe a poor attempt at an apology, the only way a Roy knew how to apologize — dance around it yet never letting it fully resolve. You were used to it by now, a lifetime of Roman had made you well familiar. Yet this time felt different. Roman for once in his life was being distant, independent. He would blame it on work, family, stress, but you knew him better than that.

Tearing your eyes from the window, you look at your phone. Still nothing from Roman, not even a heads up that he would be an hour late to the aforementioned reservation. The thought of sending another ignored text filled you with a sense of irritation. Why wait here when you could see him face to face?

Without a second thought you haphazardly throw your things into your bag, muttering softly to yourself. The lights of your borderline clinical office flick off as you shut the door.

The way to Romans office was nearly tattooed in your brain from years of walking back and forth. Though your office was just down the hall, tonight it felt like a dreadful journey into unfamiliar territory. This wasn't how the night was supposed to go.

Turning the corner you could see him through the thick glass walls. He was staring at his computer, full attention to whatever was on the screen. You swear you had never seen him work so hard in his life… or at least pretend to work this hard. With a soft sigh, you walk into the office and stop in front of his desk, his eyes not once glancing from the screen.

“Late night?” The tone of your voice is dry, maybe a bit sarcastic. You weren’t used to this Roman, the detached, focused type. He had always been clingy, willing to throw his work down as soon as you had walked in.

Even standing directly in front of him, his eyes still never move from the screen. Moving his free hand from the desk to run through his already tousled hair, he hums softly, not bothering to give a full response.

Another sigh leaves your mouth and you turn to take a seat on the piece of foam covered in velvet they called a couch, there more for decor than actual comfort.

~~~

While your back is turned, Roman’s eyes glance quickly to you. The perfect image of a long day, he watched as you slowly dropped your bag without a thought. The whole day he had fought the urge to text you and watched the minutes tick past the planned reservation. He didn’t understand why he was doing this, pushing you away and trying to hurt you. Yet he felt like he was the only one hurting here.

As quick as his eyes lingered on you they were back on the screen, looking at the same report sheet he had been rereading for over an hour now. The sight of you settling on the couch out of the corner of his eye made his brows furrow softly. Why was he doing this again?

“Uh, ya know, Dad had me do some stuff.” He mumbles softly in response, his voice high in octave and almost tense. God, he didn’t even believe himself. He rips the hand in his hair down and begins to rapidly type something on the computer, trying his best to sell his stupid ‘busy’ act. You weren’t buying it, but it was unspoken that you and Roman never really did feelings — maybe that's why you were still so close.

~~~

Sighing, you pull your phone out and slip off the uncomfortable shoes you were wearing. It seems like Roman won’t be finished anytime soon, so neither will you.

The two of you work in a tense but comfortable silence, you clearing old emails and roman rapidly slamming keys. It was routine, though it didn’t keep you from noticing that what was once so familiar was now slowly changing. The silence still comfortable, yet more deafening than before.

“We had a reservation for tonight, did you forget?” Your voice breaks the silence, addressing the elephant in the room. Panning your view to roman, you can tell the question makes him squirm. The vein on his forehead bulged, his eyes widening ever so slightly at the screen.

You wait to hear some poor excuse, something around how it wasn’t his fault or to fuck off… but it never comes. Roman just continues to slam on the keys, the discomfort only growing on his face.

Sitting up, you nearly roll your eyes for what feels like the hundredth time of the night. You didn’t have time to waste sitting twiddling your thumbs to expect a coherent response from Roman when he obviously wasn't interested in giving you one. Slipping on your tight shoes, you grab your bag and rise wordlessly.

You look at Roman, hoping for something. For him to look at you, acknowledge that you were here for him. His eyes remained glued to the screen, though it seems like there is a deeply rooted panic there. 5...10…30 seconds go by and he does nothing.

The voice in your head repeating a mantra of fuck this over and over finally wins, and you turn to the door to leave. Though it hurt, you were tired of this back and forth. That, and your bed sounded much more appealing than the stone couch.

~~~

The second you leave Romans office, his eyes tear from the screen to your disappearing figure. The feeling of panic that had been bubbling in his chest all week started to explode into a deeper fear — you were walking away. He knew he deserved it, but still — what the fuck? Part of him thinks to leave you be and ignore your texts again, but his heart is screaming at him to follow you, chase after you and stop pushing you away like he had been for weeks.

He rises from his desk, leaving his computer unlocked and hastily makes it over to where you’d gone off to.

~~~

It feels like the elevator is taking forever on purpose. Maybe to taunt you for waiting for Roman, or maybe because deep down you had hoped he would come after you. Still, you waited for the doors to open so you could forget about today and the weird feeling in your chest at your best friend ignoring you. Why did it feel like you might actually lose him this time? Roman had seen you through your worst, and you’d seen him through his. But this dynamic was new, and didn’t feel like something you could recover from.

Finally, the high pitched ding breaks you from your thoughts, the doors sliding open to the luxury elevator awaiting you. Stepping in, you scan your badge and wait to be taken to ground level once again. Wine sounded good tonight, lots of it.

The doors begin to close, but before they can shut a hand is shoved between them, forcing them to open. Roman. He was there, face slightly flushed. It was funny, because Roman had never been the one to chase after you originally.

~~~

The sun felt hot – almost scorching. It was the end of June and finally it was starting to feel like summer in the hamptons. The backyard seemed to stretch on forever and was decked in long tables covered in lavish meals. This was a yearly event Logan held for his “partners” and their families — It was for the people who knew where the bodies were hidden. The whole ‘get away’ was to keep them close.

Though the event was mostly filled with adults, a few children were scattered around. A boy almost in his older teens, one a few years younger doing his best to fit in with the adults. An even younger boy with messy hair and big eyes, a young girl with fiery red hair, and lastly another girl who didn’t really fit in with the others. Yet that didn’t stop her from trying.

“Roman! Look at this – it's a worm!” You held out the stick with a worm dangling from it, the soft blue dress hanging on your tiny frame most definitely ruined. The wide grin on your face only grew as Romans eyes widened in disgust as he turned in the opposite direction. You would only start to chase after him again in response, as you had all afternoon.

This was a game between just you and Roman — you bugged, poked, nagged, and in response he would run away, gag, and ignore. For some reason your tiny brain just never got the memo that he couldn’t stand you. Things were easier back then. Innocent.

The sound of a loud bell stops you in your steps, Roman halting ahead of you. Dinner time. Placing the worm gently back to the ground you follow the children you came to know as the Roys.

The feeling of eyes on you from your parents and other bodies burnt like fire on your skin as you approached the dinner table. You hadn’t meant to dirty the dress, but running through the vast yard with the people you called “friends” had made you forget — forget that this was a performance, and that you needed to set a good example so that your family could stand out. Your mother would have words to say about this later.

Each child slid into their assigned seat at their own table away from the adult conversations happening at the other, longer table. You couldn’t help but feel a little relieved — you didn’t fully understand that whole world yet at the ripe age of 5, but you knew enough to be bored. Shiv felt the same way you did, her face more relaxed now than it had been at the sound of the ringing bell.

Roman’s seat was the one next to yours, and it was made obvious by the soft groan that left his mouth when he saw the tag of his name next to yours. Dramatically, he pulled his chair from the table, each action over dramatized and nearly throwing his body into the seat. Though the sour look didn't last long on his face as his eyes panned over to you and your dirty blue dress.

“Mommy and Daddy won’t be very happy with that, now will they?” The sour look fades from his face, a devilish grin replacing it. His tone is teasing and rude. It wasn’t anything new with Roman, though. The only attention he spared to give you was the more unpleasant kind. But it didn’t stop your obsession with trying to break him down and play with you.

You return his comment with a pout and look away from him, your hands finding themselves busy undoing the neatly folded table napkin at your place setting. Gently your fingers pull it apart, corner by corner. Finally you place it gently on your lap, your head high as you reply. “It was an accident. Maybe if you played nice, I wouldn't be messy.”

Roman was almost surprised with the response he was met with, a little smirk filled his lips. He couldn’t help but feel put in his place. He nodded to himself, taking the napkin and ripping the cloth out of its fold. Vastly different from the way you had done it with so much meaning. Maybe you weren’t as annoying as Roman thought.

The dinner was pretty tame. The children made soft conversation about various topics — the summer vacations they had planned, the extracurriculars, the movies they wanted to see. While the adults stuck to business conversation, how it always was and would be. It felt nice though, for once being around other children who somewhat understood your lifestyle. That, and it was a lot better than the company of your au pair.

After dinner, you find yourself with Shiv in the garden playing a game of fairies while running around the well maintained garden of roses. The sound of your feet against the gravel and shared giggles is all that can be heard — a pure moment of childhood innocence. Your dress slowly changed into one more brown than blue, Shiv’s own dress dirtying as well. It didn’t matter though, because for once you were just girls playing.

Logan’s booming voice rips you and Shiv from the moment. You can’t make out anything he is saying, but the both of you know it can't be good. You look to Shiv but her eyes are already on your face, wide and crystal blue. Then you hear it clear as day, the only word that mattered. Roman.

Looking around, you find a flower from one of the many bushes and pluck it gently, making sure to not damage any petals. You didn’t know Roman well yet but you knew well enough that this was normal. The sound of Logan's booming voice most times directed at him, as he seemed to always be the easiest target. Though, there was something about this time that felt worse than the others.

Without a second thought you run off, away from Shiv and the flower garden, carefully cradling the small white flower in your palm. The soft sound of sniffling guiding where to go, eventually leading you to the side of the oversized house.

There he was — sitting on the floor, knees to his chest, and a hand holding his cheek in pain. The spitting image of a kicked puppy.

This was worse than the other times.

Wordlessly you sit next to Roman, eyes not daring to look at him, but glued to the wall with ivy overgrowing. Before Roman can protest or run away, you bring the small white flower into view. A smile fills your lips before placing the flower onto his knee with all the care in the world.

That was the moment everything changed.

~~~

The elevator doors open fully and Roman steps into it with you. Your name falls from his lips as his hands comb through his hair for the umpteenth time that night. “Look– Fuck. Let’s just grab dinner, okay? There’s gotta be someplace still open and half edible around the block.”

You can tell he is trying his best to contain his expression and stay in control of the moment, but he's failing. Miserably.

His hazel eyes watery and nearly pleading, begging you to look at him and forgive him for being a total ass.

Looking him up and down, you hesitate. Maybe to make him sweat or to make him feel how you did all day, you weren’t sure.

“Wherever we go, I want hashbrowns.” You tear your eyes away from roman and click the button that would take you to the lobby. Immediately there is air in the elevator again, Roman’s pleading eyes vanishing. He always seemed to get his way with you.

[sideysvault]

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ Drunkenly observing the city horizon with Roman ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

Pairing: Roman Roy x friend!reader

Summary: Drunken conversations are always held at balconies. 507wc

Warnings: Foul language

────────

The city always held some kind of adventurous and allusive energy, even at night. And especially when you had too many glasses of wine.

Roman and you had decided to stay in and have a drink on his apartment’s balcony. It was the only spot on the property that you actually liked, probably because it was the only place where the liveliness of the outside world couldn’t be tucked far away. The town’s imperfections seeped into the sterile environment of the apartment, and the beautiful night sky was usually accompanied by a nice, cold breeze.

Both of you were drunkenly laying on the fancy railing of the balcony. You’ve been observing the city horizon for some time now. The conversation had quieted down, and a comfortable silence lingered between the two of you.

You turned to your friend and inquired in a whisper “Do you believe in anything, Romey?”

The man snorted. Taken aback by the sudden earnestness in your voice. He felt way too dizzy for this.

“Oh, you know. Just the usual: Death, and tax evasion, and that you are the most beautiful woman in the world. After Marcia, of course.”

She smiled. All teeth.

“I see. You are drunk drunk”.

He whined. “Come on, you are such a fucking bitch. You know that?”

“And you are a sappy type of drunk. Good to know”.

“Baby, I can practically snort my body weight”

“Yeah. Maybe in your twenties you could”.

Laughter emerged from the duo. She loved to taunt him, on the other hand, he liked the way she would bump her shoulder with his when she did it. And she particularly enjoyed the way his cocky smile looked.

Laughter was always a constant when you shared a space together. It was nice. More than nice.

However, from time to time, you would also enjoy moments of serene stillness. This had become one of them. You slowly enjoyed a cigarette with him. Waves of wind drew your hair away from your face and towards the air, your dress was also lifted just the slightest up your ass. Roman thought you looked perfect. But then, he immediately noticed the increasingly reddening cheeks and nose. He knew that you were starting to feel a bit cold.

“Do you believe in anything?” Roman had his arms closed, and you could sense some solemness behind the humorous remark.

But a stupid smile appeared on your face as you turned to face him again. “Oh, that you look like a matador and anyone would die to fuck you”

The woman gave him a playful theatrical kiss on the cheek. As she always did.

“Yeah, yeah, quoting me. Very nice. Now, let’s get inside before I actually start being into you”

Roman took off his suit jacket and put it on your shoulders. You looked at him with nothing but softness. Then, he hugged by the side as he gently kissed your temple. He wasn’t as bad as people said. Your hand laid on his chest. And he did not let go of you even as you two stumbled back to the apartment.

────────

[cthaehart]

I miss my ugly fucking dog so much

[irlplasticlamb]

drunk homosexual.

prints + merch + commission info

[dinner-partys]

these type of characters >>>>>>>>>>>>>

[romancanine]

I would give you some violets, but they withered all when my father died.

[danishprince]

kieran culkin post-finale interview with variety

[f1nalgirlz]

Valentineseve | Jack Thurlow

[ This one is porn w/o plot so if you want fluff it is NOT here ]

˗ˏˋwarnings´ˎ˗ fem pronouns, fem anatomy, implied cheating, unprotected sex, sex with a stranger, Y/n is morally gray, Jack is basically an asshole lmao, slight age gap but it's only mentioned once i think?

˗ˏˋcontent´ˎ˗ car sex, creampie, Y/n is sad, Jack is married, a **LITTLE** angst because ofc there is

1 hour ago, Tuesday, February 13th

Y/n jammed her hands into her jacket pockets, a sigh leaving her lips as she cut down the Valentines aisle. She wasn't exactly looking forward to the holiday, and her mood was not helped by the many other visitors that were crowding the aisle, looking for the perfect gift for their lover. Y/n had nobody to shop for, and didn't intend to change that anytime soon. She only came here because she needed some chocolate to drown her sorrows.

As people filed out of the aisle, she worked her way further into it, chewing her lower lip as her eyes examined the tall shelf in front of her. The shelves were all stocked full, and Y/n had the pick of the litter. There was a wide variety from the different brands, but they all had the same effect on her, memories of her last relationship flooding her mind with bitter feelings. She had no intention of ever getting into a relationship again, but she liked chocolate too much to let an opportunity like this pass.

Y/n scanned over the many chocolates as her mood grew more somber. What did she really have to look forward to anymore? She let out another long sigh, and tried to focus on the task at hand. She scanned over the shelf again, and tried to pick one at random, but the variety was honestly overwhelming. Her sadness slowly faded away and was replaced with annoyance as the realization finally set in. She had no clue what to pick.

With a sigh, Y/N took a step back, hoping to get a better look at the contents on the top shelf, but she was met with something sturdy hitting her back. She quickly turned her head to look behind her, where she was met with icy blue eyes staring back at her. She'd just bumped into someone. Heat rose to her cheeks and her stomach twisted in embarrassment. "i'm so sorry." she said to the man.

The man she had bumped into was tall, his long messy brown hair framing his pale face. He was attractive, and seemed to be a few years older than her. He had a sharp look in his eyes, like he was trying to determine her state of mind. Yet, there wasn't any hint of anger on his face. His eyebrows relaxed and a small smile worked its way onto his lips. "it's fine, accidents happen." he said warmly. All remnants of embarrassment melted away and she smiled.

Present, Tuesday, February 13th

Y/n's chest heaved against the seats of the dark haired man's car, the man whose name she came to find out was Jack. Lewd sounds filled the car, the sound of skin slapping skin as well as the wet sounds coming from her cunt. A choked moan escaped her throat as Jack pounded into her, his hand gripping her hair. After a few more thrusts, a gasp slipped her lips at the feeling of his cock being pulled slowly out. She felt strong hands grasping her skin and moving her body, flipping her over. As her back hit the seats, she was staring up at Jack, whose blue eyes were trained on her red face. He looked more disheveled now, brown strands sticking to his slightly sweaty forehead. Without a word his hands were lifting her legs to rest on his shoulders, once they were firmly in place, he used his index finger to tug her wet panties to the side once again. He smirked down at her, wet doe eyes staring back up at him, before thrusting his cock back inside without warning, punching a moan out of her. A husky moan filled her ears.

She heard a few expletives escaping Jack's lips in mumbles as he started pumping in and out of her already soaked hole. Y/n's head tipped back, falling against the seat, her hair bunching up under her. She only glanced down when she felt hands gripping her hips, fingers digging into the soft skin of them as he hammered into her with fervor. Her eyes actively avoided the gold band that Jack sported on his left hand, instead choosing to focus on the way he was currently hitting every right spot inside her, sending chills down her spine. Lithe fingers found their way into Jacks messy hair, tugging slightly as he continued his eager thrusts, leaning forward to catch her lips in an aggressive kiss. Teeth nipped her lip before being soothed over by his tongue, it felt like he wanted to devour her whole, and she'd let him.

Jack pulled apart after a few moments, a string of spit connecting the two. Y/n's body felt hot, a familiar tug in her lower stomach as her cunt clenched uncontrollably around the taller man's throbbing length. She sucked in a shaky breath, eyes growing watery as she looked up at Jack hovering over her. "you gonna cum?" he asks, almost teasingly with a smirk, before a grunt leaves him. Y/n nodded quickly, head falling back against the seats once again, a guttural moan being forced out of her as Jack kept his pace, fingers finding her clit with ease. Tears pooled her eyes Jack pounded her cunt, using his left hand to abuse the sensitive bundle of nerves. She forced her eyes open, looking up at Jack through blurry eyes. "Gonna cum..." she choked out, hips rolling into his movements lasciviously, earning a chuckle from him.

"Yeah? Cum for me." he whispered into her ear with a smirk, that's what sent her over the edge. Y/n's body shook at the intensity of the orgasm, Jack never stopping his pace, letting her fully ride out her orgasm. A few low moans left him at the way her cunt pulsed around him. That's all it took to send him over the edge, one last sloppy thrust and he was releasing into her, teeth sinking into her collar bone making her roll her hips against him. He groaned, throwing his head back as his hips slowly came to a still. Y/n was still coming down from her high, chest heaving with each breath as she laid there with her eyes closed. Soon, she felt fingers pulling her panties back into the correct placement, opening her eyes she looked up at Jack who was already cleaning himself back up. Y/n took the hint and sat up. She began slipping her pants on and pulling her shirt back into place. "I have to go... but i'd really like to see you another time." Jack's voice pulled her from her autopilot. She nodded at him, allowing him to help her out of the car, stealing one last glance at the inside, not being able to stop the way her eyes caught the bag of Valentines gifts in his passenger seat.

Jack pecked her cheek one last time before climbing into the drivers side seat and starting the car. Y/n walked away, a sick feeling pooling in her stomach.

this is not proof read yet, it's probably ass but😰 i'm keeping my word and doing BOTH since that was the result of the poll.

i don't own the two dividers used creds to: @gigittamic

[greenxgloss]

First Date - Scott Bartlett

little unedited blurb, no warnings, Fluff ofc Word Count: 1.2k

Taglist: @nevvdrinksteaa @romanroyapoligist @wildathevrt @urmomsucksfrogs @hxllhxund @xxbl00d-cl0txx @junkshopblog @teamokirkhammett @kappasbbgirl @blackdollette @p1nkprincess444 @iheartblueberries @hisemoslut @strwawberrymilk

Scott finally got his license and wanted to take you out on a proper date. You'd been dating for a little less than a month and he knew you weren't really the fancy restaurant type, neither was he but he wanted to do something special so here you are, finishing up your makeup and smoothing out your dress and waiting for him to pick you up in his used sedan that he had by now driven to school a handful of times.

your phone rang in your hand and you let out a quiet squeal. "hey you ready?" he asked and you could hear the smile on his lips. "all ready." you returned as you stood in your room when you heard a knock on your door. you practically sprinted, nearly tripping down the stairs to open the door. he stood in a suit maybe a size and a half too big with a single rose. you giggled as you took it from his hand, inhaled its scent and placed it on the table cluttered with keys and trinket bowls next to the front door.

"hi." you smiled as you held your hand out for him. he blushed a deep red. it was sweet that you still made him nervous, the two of you still in somewhat of a honeymoon stage. "hi. you look beautiful." he sighed sweetly as he raked his eyes over your dress. "ready to go?" he smiled as he inched you closer and gave you a soft peck. you nodded and you locked the door behind you as you pranced out to his car.

he opened the passenger door for you. "like a proper gentleman." you spoke, giddy, hands clammy and took a seat. he shut the door and scampered to the driver's seat before starting the car and driving off to the restaurant. "I really hope you like this place. my mom told me about it a few days ago and thought you'd really like it since she and jimmys girlfriends liked it." he rambled, causing you to giggle. "I'm sure ill love it don't worry, scotty." you reached over for his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. he smiled and looked at you momentarily before snapping his gaze back to the road. "your mom always knows best anyway." you teased, earning a nervous chuckle from your boyfriend.

-

now sat at the table you both nervously played footsy under the table and relaxed against the fancy chairs. he watched you scan the room. the chandeliers sprinkled with champagne-colored lights and soft red walls. "this place is really pretty." you whispered in awe as he smiled at you. all he could do was smile, happy that you liked his choice of restaurant.

once the both of you were eating you were humming in delight. "this is so fucking good." you whispered, earning a chuckle. "i know thats usually my favourite." he blushed. "i think i'd actually like to come here more often." an uncontrollable giggle that only warmed scotts heart emerged. "yeah? and here i thought you didnt like fancy restaurants." he chewed as he spoke, reminding you scott is still your sweet awkward boyfriend no matter how confident he was tonight. "well.. i like this place." you smiled.

of course scott was still nervous though he was comfortable with you in other ways; not afraid to make a fool of himself. The inherent nervs still caused him to spill a drink, drop a fork full of fancy tortalini on the ground and at one point, accidentally spit sauce while he spoke. you found it sweet and endearing of course.

-

at the end of the night the two of you went on a walk through the shining damp streets of the town to allow your food to settle. Scott purposley parked a little up the street to give you a moment to debrief the date together before driving you home.

"im glad you had a good time tonight even though restaurant dates arent your thing." he smiled over at you, swinging your unterlocked hands between the two of you. "i think i'll just enjoy anything i get to do with you. even if you spit sauce at me." you giggled as you teased him. "hey!" he scolded, attempting and failing to fight off the very visible flush consumming his face. he sighed. "i was still nervous. i wanted it to be perfect for you." he stopped walking and covered his face. "scott im only teasing you, it was perfect. you're perfect." you whispered as you gently peeled his hands away from his face.

the both of you looked at eachother for a moment, you wondered if he was thinking the same as you which was how much you really loved him already. "i cant wait for so many more awkward dates. i think those are the most important to me." you added, cupping his face and gently rubbing your thumb across his still pink cheek. "you sure you had a good time tonight? even though i made a mess of myself?" he asked, his voice in a whisper as if to soften the embarrassment he felt. "its okay to be nervous, scotty. those things only happen when youre nervous and its sweet." you nodded, pressing a soft peck to his lips. you smiled and began leading him back to the car.

"you really do look beautiful tonight." he smiled, swinging your hands again. "thank you scotty." you giggled. "you look handsome. though i do think we need to get that suit tailored, just a little." you tugged at the baggy blazer with your free hand as you approached the car. "ugh it was jimmys. it was what we had." he smiled sheepisly, rubbing his clammy hand over his face and back up through his hair. "he wont need it right? we can get it tailored next weekend." you suggested as he opened the passenger door for you once again and held your hand as you climbed in.

"does that mean you'd like to do more restaurant dates?" he asked as he closed the door and you nodded. "i told you, anything i get to do with you is fine by me." your smile turning into a giggle as you watched him rush around the car for the driver seat.

"why are you laughing?" he asked, catchiing his breath and zipping on his seatbelt. "because you keep running around the car." you quickly caught the tear the threatened to roll down your cheek and melt your makeup. he sighed again. "stop laughing at me." he began laughing as well.

scott drove you home and again walked you to the door. he squeezed your hand and couldn't help but smile as you turned to face him. "I had a great time." you smiled, clasping both his hands. "Ill call you."

"ill call you." he chuckled, kissing your hands and letting them drop to pull her closer and kissing your lips soft and slow. you hummed in response. "mm scott?" you called, your eyes still closed. "yeah, baby?" he whispered. "its time to go." you giggled, holding him by his shoulders. "okay." he pecked your lips a few more times. "okay, okay. have a good night baby." he smiled but still held you close. scott loved you too and neither of you really had to say it. the way he kissed you and let his touch simmer on yours was enough and screamed louder than your measly little voices.

You chose to say it regardless. "scott?" you whispered again through the kisses. "yes, baby." he smiled again, maybe laced with a hit of frustration from the second interruption. "I love you." you giggled. "he returned the giggle. "I love you too."

--

A/N: sorry if this is shit i honestly just wanted to feed the rory community even just a little. please remember this is unedited and rushed. also where the fuck did you guys go? please keep in mind that requests are always open and if you want to see more rory character content you'll have to request it since I've moved on from him if you've changed your username since the last time you've filled out the taglist please let me know or fill the taglist form again please be kind and reblog my fics ALSO!! one last question: would you guys like if I made a separate masterlist for all my rory fics just like I'm doing for my Yoongi fics which ill link HERE just so you guys can get an understanding of what that could look like

➽ Taglist Form ➽ Master List

[evild3ad]

Thinking about "category fraud" and A Real Pain:

Kieran Culkin is 100% the supporting performance. Jesse Eisenberg plays the character who goes through an actual personal character arc. Everyone who isn't Kieran Culkin goes on an individual personal character arc. Benji is that mysteriously bright, endearing person that only exists in your life for a moment. He's the kind of person that everyone kinda wants to encounter...but maybe just once. Either way, you'll remember that dude and he'll be a part of your travel stories when you get back home.

Jesse Eisenberg plays a character who has spent his life trying to figure Benji out because he's spent his entire life with him. He can't just experience him in a small amount of time. It's all or nothing. And he's spent so much time away that he gets to almost experience the same level of Benji as everyone else...except he knows Benji and his baggage. He still can't figure him out. His character is reserved but that does not mean his arc isn't happening.

Literally every character is impacted by Benji in that movie, but Benji never speaks about himself. The audience hears a pretty impactful story about him from David but Benji never says anything about it.

For all we know, David could have been misinterpreting something about Benji. We'll never know.

Benji is unreadable but completely transparent at the same time. He impacts everyone he comes in contact with. He's an open and honest person while somehow not revealing anything about himself with words. He's the kind of person you want to meet when you're going through it. He supports everyone around him and puts them all on their own arcs.

David is the one who we understand and relate to and Benji is something we know or want to know.

Measurable screentime ratios be damned, this was a supporting Performance of all time!

[strang3lov3]

Breathing Exercises

“You just lay there, pretty girl,” Roman instructs, pushing his finger further past the fabric of your panties. He can feel the fucking heat radiating from your pussy. “Do not move, do not talk, and do not think,” he says quietly, drawing his finger up and down your seam. “Nod if you understand, baby.”

WARNINGS - softdom!roman, smut, dubcon/noncon, intox kink (usage of weed), unprotected piv, oral sex, dacryphilia, anxiety, greening out, finger sucking, daddy kink, romey turns you into his brain dead little fuck sleeve and talks all slow and gentle to you, but is also kinda scarydaddy and mean, aftercare, little bit of a horrorfucky situation.

A/N - Heyyyyyyyy romey readers ♡ been a minute since i've written romey on his own!! february kinda sucked for me, sorry. anywho. you guys have to let me know if you wanna see stepdaddy after this or if you want more one shots or uhh... 1cky br0ther!romey. or gyno!romey. havent forgotten him either!

Roman’s been watching you fidget for the past forty-five minutes, the way you always do sometimes. You’ve been having more of these moments lately, or maybe it’s just that Roman’s only now noticing. It’s a whole lot of pacing, bouncing, and generally moving your body. You’re anxiously checking your phone, turning it off, then checking it again.

The floor creaks as you stand up and walk towards the other side of the room. Roman watches you fill a crystal glass with water from the matching carafe, drink it all, then repeat the action. When you’re done, you just kind of…stand there, bouncing on your toes a little. 

“You’re hovering,” Roman deadpans. 

“What? Oh, sorry.” 

“Sit down,” he tells you. “Watch some fuckin’...” Roman trails off as he looks around himself for the remote, then changes what’s on TV. “–Here, perfect. Parks and Rec. You love that shit, don’t you?”

You just barely nod as you sit down at the middle of the bed, back straight, legs tightly crossed. Roman’s lying on his side behind you, admiring the elegant curve of your waist for a lingering moment. 

He does his best to understand you, to empathize with you, but he just…doesn’t get it. Your whole fuckin’...thing. He gets it, logically. He can make sense of how your anxiety works. He just doesn’t feel it the way you do, and he doesn’t really quite know what to make of it, being on edge with no immediate threat around. How very odd.

Roman thinks sometimes about taking advantage of your body when you’re like this, all anxious the way you are. You’d be so fucking tight, he imagines. Your eyes frozen in fear as he slides into you. Arousal and fear kind of feel the same at a certain point, right? Heart racing, skin dampened with sweat, the tingle in your bones and the fluttering in your stomach. 

Roman waves away the thought. Not that he gives a shit, but it wouldn’t be right. A cheap shot, really. You’re worse tonight, worse than you’ve been in a while. Another time. You need something different from him, he decides.

“Psst.” Roman taps you gently with his foot, and chuckles when he startles you. “You’d make a better door than a window,” he teases.

“I’m s - I’m sorry. I’ll - I’ll–”

Roman sits up and crawls across the bed, then gently lies next to you. “You’re pretty wired, huh?” he asks through a smirk, resting the side of his face on his fist. 

You smile sheepishly. “Yeah,” you answer, looking down at him. “I’m sorry.”

“You get like this a lot, don’t you? All restless and whatever. Fuckin’ amped.”

“Sometimes,” you mumble. Roman makes a face at you, silently telling you to elaborate. “Yeah, I don’t know. I didn’t used to feel this way. I just get kind of, yeah. Wired, like you said, from time to time. It’s worse with caffeine,” you add, laughing awkwardly. 

Roman nods slowly, his hazel eyes sparkling under the low light. “What makes it better?”

“Mmm…sleep, maybe? That’s if I can sleep,” you chuckle. “Doesn’t always happen.”

“So you just don’t come down sometimes. You just stay like this.” You shrug while nodding. “Wow. That can’t feel good,” Roman says. 

“No, it doesn’t,” you agree, sighing a little. The anxiety starts to bubble up again, but you’re grateful for the moment away from it talking with Roman afforded you. “You don’t feel this way?” you ask, tucking your knees into your chest. “Like, ever?”

Roman shakes his head. “Nope. But I mean…I could make it go away, if you want.” 

“Breathing exercises? Because if that’s your suggestion, I’ve tried them and–”

“Nah. Well,” Roman tilts his head, then says, “Kinda.” 

Roman slides off of bed and enters his closet, shuffling through items. Sure, fucking you when you’re all anxiety ridden would be something. Violent, exciting, all that shit the darkest parts of himself craves. But fucking you stoned out of your mind, now that’s something else entirely. Getting you all high and fuzzy brained, you’re drooling into the pillows as Roman turns you into his own stupid little cock sleeve. 

He returns to you with a slick-looking device in his hand. 

“What’s that?”

“Cart,” he answers, and you look lost. “You’ve never seen one before?”

You shake your head. “I don’t even know what that is.” 

“It’s weed, dummy. C’mon. Keep up.” 

You look momentarily stunned, and Roman smirks as the gears turn in his head. “I appreciate it, Rome, but I really–”

“Oh, yes you will. C’mon, just hit it. It’s just a little fuckin’ weed, yeah? Nature’s remedy. It’ll cure what ails you, princess. All that anxiety, gone.” 

You’re skeptical. “That’s really weed?” 

“Mhm.”

“The kind that makes you relax?” 

Roman laugh. “No, it’s the other kind - yes, it’s the kind that makes you relax. Let me ask you, have I ever not delivered? Have I ever once steered you wrong?”

 “A lot, actually.” 

Roman laughs. “Okay, well, you can trust me now, alright? Hey - you’re gonna feel good. Now hit the pen, you fuckin’ loser.” 

Roman tosses you the battery, and it lands on the bed. He sits next to you as you inspect it, the shiny, sleek design, internally giggling as he knows how fucking potent this one is. You tuck your hair behind your ear and shake your head, then hand it back to him. “I’m okay, Roman. I don’t even know how to work this shit. And it’s been so long since I’ve smoked.”

“Oh my god, you’re so fuckin’ cute,” Roman grins, and it makes you feel even more insecure. He holds out the pen to you, wiggling it a little. “Just do it, sweetheart. Give it a try.” 

“I don’t think so,” you mumble, shifting in place, watching him toy with the device. He twirls it between his fingers, and presses the button a couple of times to make it light up, the multicolored glow illuminating his hands in pretty shades of violet, red, and blue.  

“I’ll even go first, yeah? Here–” Roman takes a hit of the pen, breathes in deeply and holds it, then lets the smoke seep through his nose with a steady exhale. He coughs a little, then giggles in amusement. “Now it’s your turn.”

“It’s alright, Roman. I’ll be fine.”

“Oh, give me a break. You’ve sucked on a Juul before, right? It’s the same thing. You can do it. I know you can do it.”

Roman’s gaze is heavy and intense. His eyes are dark, but there’s something soft there, too. Comforting, probably deceptively so. You rest your chin on top of your knees, biting down on your shy smile. “Mmm,” you hum, contemplating. There’s something thick in the air. It’s electric, heavy and energetic.

Roman chuckles at your hesitation. “You are such a fucking pussy,” he taunts, rolling his eyes in mock disappointment. “But that’s fine. We’ll just do it the other way.”

“What’s the other way?”

“You’ll figure it out,” he murmurs softly, wearing another devilish smirk. Roman moves closer to you on the bed, mattress dipping with his weight, then wraps both of his hands around your ankles. He tugs on them gently, pulling you out of your curled-up position by setting your legs flat against the bed. He lays your torso against the mattress next, your heart pounding and fingers trembling as he hovers over you, caging you in.

“Roman–” 

“Shh…you’re in capable hands. You know that.” Roman takes your chin between his fingers and tilts your face, then brings the pen to his lips, raising an eyebrow as you shy away beneath him. He’s so, so fucking gorgeous. You could count all of his freckles here if you wanted to, follow the lines in his face with your eyes. Roman’s knee is pressed against your cunt, and he can feel you start to throb against him if he focuses.

“Mm-mm,” he hums quietly, bringing your focus back to him. He takes a long drag, then lowers his face, opening your jaw a little before he presses his soft lips against yours. He feeds his breath into your lungs, gently but steadily, and the sleek strands of his hair that fall over his eyebrows tickle your forehead. The smoke burns you inside, but Roman keeps you still beneath him. Finally, he pulls away, leaving you to cough and sputter on the exhale. 

“Rome–”

“Nope, you’re not done yet. Give me one more, pretty girl,” Roman tells you, taking another hit from the pen. He repeats the action but pulls back faster this time, and he presses his palm over your mouth and nose for a few seconds. “Attagirl, sweetheart,” he whispers, warm breath tickling your ear. “Hold it in. Just like that. Juuuuust like that.” 

You’re lightheaded already. Only when you squirm beneath him does Roman uncover your mouth, and a small puff of smoke clouds his face. 

“There we go. Wasn’t too hard, huh? You’re gonna feel so good, sweet girl. I’m gonna make you feel so good.”

You don’t feel so good yet, despite Roman’s promise. You just lie there on his bed, listening to the sounds of his TV becoming more and more distant, the rustling of fabric. The bed dips as Roman situates himself behind you, resting against the headboard of his bed. 

A moment passes before he speaks. “Hey, you,” he says. “Are you joining me or not?”

It takes you a second for his words to register, to even detect where they came from. You turn your head to see Roman smiling at you, his sharp canines on display. His eyes are dark and half-lidded, cheeks glowing with a gentle blush painted upon them. He’s shirtless now, too, and his soft stomach rises and falls with his steady breaths. 

“Oh, man. It’s already hitting you, huh, lightweight?”

…Is it hitting you yet? Getting high has always had a rather elusive, gradual start. It’s usually not until you’re feeling sort of heavy and floaty at the same time that you realize you’re there, and fuck, you are certainly there. You feel stuck to the bed, almost magnetically pulled to it. Roman giggles and crawls over to you, “Jesus, c’mere. Come snuggle me,” he says, “You’re gonna wanna be held,” then wraps his arms around you and tugs you with him toward the headboard again. 

Roman faces you toward the ceiling and lays your head in his lap. With one hand, he uses his long fingers to gently scratch your scalp as he turns on his phone with the other. He lowers the overhead lights, then turns on colored lights that glow under his bed and up by the ceiling. It’s very slick looking.

“Yeah, you like that?” he asks, “Do you like the lights?”

“Yeah,” you whisper softly, staring up at him. “They’re nice.” 

Roman smiles down at you, drawing little patterns on your face with gentle fingertips. He traces your features too, then pushes some hair out of your face. “Why don’t you watch the TV now, alright? Just lay like that.”

You nod sleepily, then turn your face to watch the TV as your high begins to set in a little further. Roman keeps his hands on you, always. Stroking your shoulders, fingers trailing up your neck. He turns you into a fidget toy of sorts, one of his own silly behaviors he takes on when he’s high. While watching the TV mindlessly, you’re not really sure how much time is passing. But you feel good. Relaxed, even. You love lying in Roman’s lap, head pressed against his soft, warm belly. He smells good, like some kind of gentle eucalyptus soap. And his happy trail is neatly trimmed. 

After some quiet between you and Roman, he speaks. “You feeling good yet? A little better?”

You look up at Roman then, and it hits you hard, just how high you are. Watching the TV, giving your mind and your eyes something to follow kind of dulls the sensation. Without it is a different story entirely. You blink at Roman a couple of times as he smirks at you. 

“Oh, fuck yeah. You’re high as balls, aren’t you?”

“Yeah. I’m uh…” you trail off, taking longer to find the words than you should. “I’m a little dizzy.”

“Dizzy, huh?” he asks quietly. Roman clicks his tongue, then goes back to playing with you while watching the screen. He drags his fingers across your collarbones, tickling you a little. His hand inches down, rubbing you over your shirt. Your stomach flutters when he lifts your shirt a little and rubs your tummy, fingers dipping below the waistband of your sweatpants just a little. But his hands are so warm, so comforting. Gentle. 

Roman gingerly lifts your head, then slides from beneath you, allowing you to rest on the memory foam under you. You feel so heavy, almost like your body is slowly sinking through the mattress. Like quicksand. 

The bed dips by your legs, and then you feel Roman’s fingers undoing the bow tied in the front of your sweatpants, then brush over your hip bones as he hooks them under the waistband. He gives them a gentle tug, pulling them down your legs entirely. “Romey,” you murmur, “What’re you doing to me?”

“Romey, huh? Is that who I am?” Roman watches you nod, loving that lost look in your eyes. He laughs, “I like it. You’re so fuckin’ cute.”

“Why are you taking off my clothes?” you ask. “I’m so fu…I’m so confused.” 

Roman crawls over your body and leans down, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead. “Yeah, I know you are,” he whispers, then hums. “Oh, you poor, confused, sweet girl. You’re having such a hard time thinking, aren’t you?” he says softly, voice so tender in a way you’ve never heard from him before. When you nod, Roman says, “I’ll tell you what, I’m gonna make my words nice and easy for you, honey, so you don’t have to think too hard. Does that sound okay?”

You nod dumbly, and Roman smiles. “Good girl,” he praises. “I’m gonna give you some rules now, alright?”

“Rules for what?”

“Don’t worry about it,” he says. “I want you to just listen to Daddy, okay? It’s super fucking easy. Can you do that for me?”

“Daddy?”

Roman nods, taking your hand in his own. “Mhm, Daddy,” he says, smirking. “Daddy’s in charge of you tonight, honey. And I’m gonna take good care of you, but you have to listen carefully to me, alright? It’s very important, sweetheart.”

“Okay,” you answer, feeling unsure. Something about the way he talks to you makes you feel worse in some ways. Nervous. But he tells you that you can trust him, so you do, right?

“Alright, sweetie. You’re gonna let Daddy do whatever he wants to do to you, and you’re just gonna lie still and be pretty for me. See? Very easy. You can do that, can’t you?”

“I can do…” Roman’s brows knit together as you trail off. “You think I’m pretty?”

His lips curl into a lopsided smile at your question. “Of course I do,” he tells you, drawing his name on your thigh with his fingers, already marking you as his own. He grins at you like an animal, eyes black and devoid of any depth. “I think you’re just the prettiest, honey.” 

“I think you’re pretty, too,” you say quietly. 

“Oh, do you, now?” Roman passes a hand back through his hair, only for the strands to fall in front of his face again. “Well, that’s fuckin’ nice of you.”

Roman motions for you to watch the TV again, his hand still holding yours. He drops it, then moves back a little, and spreads your legs to sit cross-legged between your thighs. As you watch the TV, you’re getting lost in the visuals. One person’s face turns into another’s, then another’s. It bothers you a little if you think about it, but when you look at Roman, he doesn’t seem alarmed. He just keeps touching you, his warm, soft hands running up and down your thighs, rubbing little circles into your hips. He toys with your underwear, surreptitiously slipping a finger under the gusset. You freeze.

“Aren’t you…” you begin, and Roman raises his eyebrows at you. 

“Aren’t I…what?”

“Like, not supposed to be doing that to me.” 

“Uh huh…” Roman drawls, “I’m not doing anything, though.”  

“But–”

Roman pouts at you mockingly. “Oh, man. You don’t know what you’re talking about at all, do you?” He shushes before you can speak, “Shhh. Just - just be quiet, now. You’re forgetting the rules.” 

“The rules…”

“The rules,” Roman replies, nodding his head slowly. “I’ll give you a refresher, alright? You get one freebie. But don’t make me tell you again, okay?” He sounds so sweet, and so serious. You kind of hate the way he babies you and talks to you like you’re fucking stupid, but you don’t have the capacity to understand him in any other way right now. He tells you it really is best if you let him do the thinking. Just give that pretty head of yours one fuckin’ night off, huh? 

“You just lay there, pretty girl,” Roman instructs, pushing his finger further past the fabric of your panties. He can feel the fucking heat radiating from your pussy. “Do not move, do not talk, and do not think,” he says quietly, drawing his finger up and down your seam. “Nod if you understand, baby.”

You nod, feeling a little intimidated and, well. Compelled to obey him. Roman mindlessly drags his fingers through your folds. Nothing more, nothing less. Like it’s not a big deal, or something. Like if he’s nothing to him, then why would it be anything to you?

Roman rubs your clit in circles. Just steady, slow circles. The fabric of your panties becomes damp, arousal dripping down your pussy as he works you slowly, steadily. He takes note of your breath hitching in your throat, your breathing becoming heavier. You’re not quite moaning, not yet. But he’ll get you there. 

He pulls your panties to the side, then pushes one finger into your slick hole. Roman pumps it in and out of you for a couple of minutes, admiring how you soak him. One finger becomes two, and he curls those two fingers inside of you repeatedly. Slowly, at first. Just to make you squirm a little, and then he increases the pressure and the speed.

“Roman,” you gasp, arching your back. 

“Quiet, baby.” 

He uses his other hand to rub your clit as he fucks you on his fingers, and the sensation feels overwhelming. It’s pleasurable, sure, but it feels polluted. Overwhelming. You’ve never been touched like this while being high before. 

“You are sooo fuckin’ soaked,” Roman whispers. “Feelin’ good, yeah?”

“I - I don’t know,” you say quietly, sitting up a little. Roman pushes you back down. “I just feel so confused, Roman. And like…afraid, I think? Maybe?” 

“Oh, come on. It’s just a little touching, huh? You can handle a little touching. You have nothing to be afraid of. See?” Roman pulls his fingers from your cunt, and wiggles them in front of you. “Look at how wet you are, sweetheart. That means you feel good.” He sucks his middle finger, humming at the taste of your arousal, then leans over you and pushes his pointer against your lips and forces it deep into your mouth. “Taste it, pretty girl.” You can smell yourself on his hand.

Roman’s cock twitches as you suck your arousal off his fingertip, then he pulls his hand away. He pulls your panties down your legs and drops them on the floor, then pushes your shirt up your torso. 

“Rome—”

“No, baby. No more talking.”

Roman puts his hand over your mouth and dips his head lower, then kisses the valley between your breasts. He kisses across them, moaning into the soft flesh there, sucking on one of your nipples while he gently squeezes the other one of your tits. The soft strands of his hair tickle your skin, and you arch into his touch. 

He kisses his way down your belly, then lifts you up and slides a pillow underneath your ass. The slight change in position makes you feel like you’ve been thrown off your axis, head all fuzzy and full and spinning. Before you can settle into it, Roman’s pushing your thighs apart and rubbing the soft skin behind your knee with his thumbs. He blows cool air over your dripping seam, and watches as your cunt twitches.

As Roman settles between your legs and kisses your inner thighs, you debate opening your mouth to speak. You really don’t want him to be mad at you right now. 

Roman rests his head against your leg. “Hey.” He taps on your side, “What’s that look for, huh? You’ve got freak-out face.” You pause, afraid to speak. “It’s cool. You can talk.” 

“What are you talking about?”

“You’re like, totally freaking out in there,” Roman says softly, biting down on his twisted, delighted smile. 

“I just…I don’t know what you’re doing to me, Romey. I thought we were just gonna watch TV or something.”

“You can still watch TV.” Roman kisses your knee, “Daddy’s just kissing you, honey. That’s all. Nothin’ too bad. You like being kissed, don’t you?”

“I do, but—”

Roman startles you as he leaps forward, silencing you by pressing his lips against yours. It takes you a moment to return his kiss, to mingle your tongue with his the way he urges you to. You find a comfortable rhythm, and you feel content kissing him like this. His hands are gently cradling your face, and your legs brush against the smooth skin of his torso. But as quickly as it begins, it’s over. “Go watch your show, baby,” Roman whispers, kissing your lips one last time. 

Once again, he settles himself in front of your cunt. Roman kisses right over your seam, moving his lips gently. He slips his tongue over you, gathering your arousal on the tip to then drag through your folds. 

Roman told you to watch the show, but all you can do is watch him. His eyes are dark as he eats you, brows pinched together. A little line draws between them, and the veins in his forehead bulge a little. The tip of his perfect, freckled nose nudges against your mound as he swipes his tongue over your clit, eliciting the sweetest sound from you. 

His eyes dart to the mattress where you tug at the sheets. Saying nothing, Roman takes your hand and holds it, swiping his thumb over your knuckles. He does so intentionally, tracing each rise and dip of your joints, and it becomes something of a way for you to ground yourself amidst the discomfort. Roman devours your cunt, eating you for his pleasure alone. You taste so sweet, so very you. There’s no real pattern to it, just Roman blindly licking you, alternating between a flat tongue and a pointed one. He drags his tongue in swirls, figure-eights, circles. Even writes his name. 

When he wraps his lips around your clit and suckles you there, it makes you writhe and shudder. “Lie still,” Roman mumbles into your thigh, then goes right back to working you. 

Pleasure builds in your gut, but it doesn’t feel…right. It’s too intense, with no real start or stop of the sensation. It makes you feel like you’re breaking into a million pieces, and it makes you feel scared. You know it for certain - you are fucking scared. 

Roman savors the sweet noises of you quietly weeping and cumming, the choking sobs turned moans. He knows you’re way too high right now, just how he wants you. Fucking braindead and frightened to the bone. 

The pleasure doesn’t end there, however. The aftershocks of your release continue to roll through you, and you can feel it so awfully in your fingertips. You don’t even realize that Roman’s completely naked now, and so are you. He’s hovering above you, leaking cock tapping your wet cunt. You’re terrified. 

“I’m so scared, Romey,” you sniffle. “I wanna be done.”

Roman clicks his tongue and draws the head of his cock up and down your folds. He’s so pleasantly tickled by you, this whole thing - he thought you’d be all limp and mindless, but you’re afraid like you’re his fucking prey. “Yeah. But you’re not done, is the thing. Sorry.” 

“Rome–”

“You can cry, sweetheart. I don’t mind.” Roman holds your face, rubbing your cheek in circles, then notches his tip at your entrance and quickly thrusts into you. He reaches for the pen again and inhales a lungful for himself, one before he shotguns you again. You struggle a bit, grabbing at his wrist as you wiggle your body, trying to throw him off of you. Roman laughs and coughs, smoke blowing in your face.  You’re so fucking high that you’re barely moving, despite all of your efforts. Isn’t that just the funniest fucking thing? 

“Another,” he tells you, about to take another hit. “Open your mouth.”

“No, please. Don’t. I’m so fucking high, Roman.” 

“You’re really not,” he laughs, then grips your jaw tight enough to hurt. “Fuckin’ pussy.”  He squeezes your mouth open, takes an uncomfortably long hit, and forces all of his warm breath down your throat. Roman moans, feeling your cunt pulse around his length as you cough repeatedly, lungs on fucking fire. Your head spins as he giggles and lowers his mouth to your ear, and whispers, “You’re fucked.” He licks the shell of your ear as he draws out of you, and pushes slowly back inside. 

Roman pulls out again, so tender as he does it. Another gentle push inside, and soon enough, he’s found his pace. It’s not particularly hard, not particularly fast or brutal. As soft as it is, it still scares you. You don’t have a say in one thing that happens to you right now - not what you think, not what you feel, not how your body moves. Not even what you’re wearing. It’s all Roman - you are all Roman’s - and you can’t do one fucking thing about it. Your limbs are heavy as your mind races with incoherent thoughts. 

It’s all too much. Your heart pounds as Roman cages you in, slowly fucking in and out of you. You feel claustrophobic like this, smothered by his warmth and his weight, and your hands are pinned above your head. You don’t even remember that happening. “I’m too high, Roman,” you tell him. “I need–”

“It’s just a little weed, honey. You’re fine.”

“No, I’m really not. I feel - I’m scared,” you whisper, wriggling in discomfort. Roman pins you down with a hand on your tummy, keeping you in place. You’ve never felt afraid like this before. It’s not an immediate fear, not like seeing a spider on your refrigerator or hearing something go bump in the night. It’s dread more than it’s fear, really; a quiet and suffocating sort of terror. “I’m just so fucking scared,” you sob.

“Shh, hey - hey. You’re fine. Just look at the pretty lights, okay?” Roman tilts your head in the direction of the colorful glow, “What colors do you see, baby?”

Roman turns your face to the side, urging you to look at his lights as he fucks you gently. They shift in color, electric blue turning to violet, then magenta.

“Purple,” you answer. “And…blue…Can you pl–”

“Oh, fuck. Yeah? Kinda cool, huh?” he grunts, “What’s your favorite?”

“Pink,” you mumble, watching the colored lights and shadows dance on his ceiling. Roman’s bathed in all the same colors, his gorgeous skin painted in those gorgeous hues. 

“That’s good,” he says, “I want you to focus on the pretty lights and just let Daddy’s cock slide in and out of you, okay? That is aaalll you have to do. It’s very easy, honey. Be a good girl for me now, yeah?” 

Roman looks down at you and admires his work. Your skin glows under the multicolored lights, face sticky with tears as you cry softly. Your body is so soft, so fucking pliant. Close to dead, even. He did this to you. Roman did. And Roman’s all you have right now, for better or for worse. 

He kisses your neck, feeling your throat twitch under his lips as you hiccup and sob. “Oh, I know. Must be so hard, huh? Being Daddy’s pretty little fuck doll. What’m I gonna do with you, pretty girl?”

You don’t answer. Roman fucks you gently, steadily chasing his release. He licks his fingers and finds your swollen clit, and rubs it as he rolls his hips into you. The lights multiply and dance as pleasure builds inside you again, just as overwhelming as it was before. Lost in the colors, you cum while crying Roman’s name incoherently, and he guides you through your climax. His stupid, stoned fucksleeve. 

It’s not long before Roman cums too, shooting hot ropes of his spend inside you. He pulls out at the last minute to paint your cunt with his cum too, that last little bit. He rubs it into you with the tip of his dick, then lays next to you. He’ll have to clean you up before morning - or maybe he’ll leave you to lie in the mess he made of you. Depends on his mood. 

Roman turns your face to meet his and wipes your tears away. Poor thing. Your face is all puffy, eyes rimmed red by both the weed and your crying. Roman pulls you in for a hug, and buries your face into his chest that’s damp with sweat. You’re still vibrating with the effects of the high, but you can start to calm down in Roman’s arms. All you can do is melt there, and try not to think about any of it. Maybe in the morning the memory won’t be there. 

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[xxhypersomnia]

Welp.

Hollywood made that pretty clear didn't they....

[wretchedgirlyboy]

my

my bff

[irlplasticlamb]

i’m not a violent dog.

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[xanzilopterix]

"He did bad things"

Ok but he was sad 😭😢

He has ✨trauma✨

+ just a silly goofy guy