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moonsgemini · 1 year ago

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american heartbreak - i

summary: all June Summers wants is to be Rafe Cameron’s date to the county fair dance. Everyone from town would be there and she was tired of going alone. She was tired of watching him dance with other women, tired of waiting around for him.

warnings: cowboy!rafe x oc (minimal to no oc description, mutual pining, angst, fluff

wc: 2.7k

an: I hope you guys enjoy! I love cowboy rafe. I also just love writing au’s there’s so much more room for creative freedom. I basically just use rafe as a face claim bc drew starkey is a literal greek god.

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The sound of June’s boots as she paced back and forth behind the counter were beginning to drive Amber crazy. She was trimming tulips to make a new bouquet but she could barely concentrate when the her coworker was an anxious mess. The soft sound of music wasn’t enough to drown out the clacking of boots against wood. June bit her fingernails anxiously, her stare not leaving the floor as she was lost in thought.

“June I swear I’m going to kill you if you don’t relax,” She scolded the girl who stopped abruptly.

She smiled sheepishly, “I’m sorry, I just am really nervous. What if he like laughs at me or something?”

Amber rolled her eyes, “That boy would never laugh at you.”

“You never know. What if he like thinks I’m crazy or worse never speaks to me again after he rejects me because he feels so bad!” She exclaimed dramatically.

“How do you even sleep at night with all this worrying?”

“I don’t get much of it.”

All week June had been practicing over and over in her head how she would ask her lifelong crush, Rafe, to the county fair. At the end of the night there would be a dance that the whole town went to. It was a big deal around here, and going with a date was a big deal. Every year there would be some new surprising couple that would be the talk of the town for the next few weeks before some new gossip spread. June had been pining over Rafe Cameron like a love sick puppy since they were eleven years old when boys started becoming cute and not gross anymore.

She had planned on asking him when he came in this afternoon. Rafe always came in on thursday evenings after practice to buy a fresh bouquet of flowers to take to his mom’s grave. A tradition he started in high school, the day before the rodeo, he’d go visit his mom. To this day he swore she was his goodluck charm. When June started working at the flower shop at sixteen she was ecstatic to have another excuse to see Rafe.

She glanced at the clock on the wall and her palms started sweating, it was six now which meant he was out of practice by now. June decided to make herself busy in the mean time to occupy her jittery fingers.

Rafe parked outside the small flower shop and let out a sigh of relief. Being at the flower shop on meant it was the end of his practice week and now he just had to worry about riding. It also meant he got to visit his favorite girl, and he wasn’t talking about his mom.

He looked into his rearview mirror of his old pick up truck and adjusted his hat. Checking himself to make sure he didn’t have any dirt or muck on his face. He got out of his truck making long strides towards the door. As he entered that all too familiar bell jingled alerting June and Amber or his presence. The smell of fresh flowers over took his senses, as well as the presence of his favorite flower girl.

June looked up from where she was picking the leaves off of the carnation stems. Her eyes widening for a second, her face beginning to feel hot as she smiled shyly at him. Suddenly any ounce of confidence she had to ask him about the dance left her body. That smirk he always wore turning her into a pile of mush. She’s surprised her legs were still holding her up as he walked over to the counter.

“Hi Rafe,” She said softly. Amber smiled to herself as she watched them interact. She sneakily walked into the back room to give them some privacy. It was a little routine she did whenever Rafe came in.

“Hi sweetheart, whatcha got today for me?” He asked resting his palms against the counter supporting his weight as he leaned towards her.

He was such a natural flirt. She could barely look him in the eyes most of the time, “we just got a bunch of beautiful tulips in so I made you a bouquet of purple ones with some baby’s breath,” June walked over to the one of the bucked holding an abundance of bouquets, “I also put a few daisy’s to add a bit more to it.”

She showed him the bouquet proudly. A wide smile spreading across his face, “That is beautiful. You’re so good. Mom will love them.”

June knew Rafe’s mom. She cared for everyone in town like they were all her family. Whenever June would be over at their house hanging out with Sarah she would make them food, always let them ride horses. When they were really young she’d let them play in the rain and get all muddy, when other mom’s in town would scold her for letting the kids look like a mess. She was the sweetest woman.

“Always the best for her,” She fidgeted with her hands nervously. If he knew the effect he had on her he’d be too powerful.

He pulled out his wallet and handed her a twenty. Since he was their best customer she never charged him more than that. Clueless Rafe just thought that was how much each bouquet was, “Am I seeing you tomorrow at the rodeo?”

She nodded, “Of course. I might help out Mrs.Mayfield sell raffle tickets.”

“Always the helpful one. I better see you at the Rooster after,” He pointed at her scolding playfully. Roosters was one of the local bars everyone went out to.

June laughed softly, “Maybe, I doubt you’d even notice if I wasn’t there.”

“Darlin I always notice when you’re not around,” He smirked, “I better get going to see mom.”

“Goodluck tomorrow Rafe,” She smiled with a small wave as he began walking out.

He tipped his hat at her with that cute lopsided smile on his lips, “I’ll see you tomorrow Ms.Summers.”

June watched him walk out to his truck, a dumb love struck smile on her face. That crush she’s had on him since second grade was never going away.

“You chicken.”

She jumped and reached to clutch her chest, “Oh my god you scared me.” She scolded her friend.

Amber had her arms crossed leaning against the doorway to the back, “You didn’t ask him!”

“I couldn’t! My brain got all blurry. I-I just can’t handle the thought of rejection. Especially not from him.”

“Did you not hear everything he said to you?” She walked over standing in front of June, “He practically was begging you to go tomorrow. Verbatim said ‘I always notice when you’re not around’ um hello?”

June shrugged, “He’s just being nice, that’s just Rafe.”

Amber stared at her with a deadpan expression, “I wish I could put you in a choke hold right now.”

She rolled her eyes, “I’ll try to ask him tomorrow after the rodeo.”

“I’m sure you will. But we’re definitely going out after,” She smiled.

June and Amber had been friends since they were in diapers. Their moms being best friends themselves it was almost a given that their two daughters would be just as close. After they graduated high school they took all the money they had saved up and rented a cute little house in town. Now they were working on buying out Mr.Robertson for his flower shop. They had been working in it since they were fifteen and they wanted it to be their’s. Mr.Roberston kindly offered to sell it to them since he was getting too old to take care of it himself and once he sold it he’d move to Florida with his daughter.

The girls were close to buying it, needing a few more months to get the rest of the money. Most people wanted to move out of the small town they were born in but that wasn’t June or Amber. June liked it there, she liked the familiarity and the comfort it brought. She liked her life here, she liked living with her best friend and working with her too. She liked being five minutes away from her parents. June felt lucky to be where she was and have the people she had in her life.

After closing they had stopped by the grocery store to pick up stuff for dinner. Now headed home in June’s dad’s old mustang they enjoyed the cool summer afternoon breeze and listened to their favorite artist, Taylor Swift. June felt like she had the perfect life. The only thing she longed for was someone to be by her side. Of course she had Amber but she wanted a romantic relationship. She wanted someone who could hold her at night and take her out on dates.

It’s not like she hadn’t tried to get a boyfriend. June had gone on a few dates but they never ended well. She was seeing Liam, a local mechanic, for a month but then she saw him flirting and kiss another girl at Rooster’s. After that she went on a date with a local bull rider, one of Rafe’s teammates, but he never called her after the night was over. June thought it was because she didn’t put out on the first date. She doesn’t know that it was because Rafe cornered the guy and threatened him. Told him if he ever went out with you again he’d tie him to his truck and drag him across town.

Amber had her own boyfriend, James, who was friends with Rafe. They worked together on the Cameron farm and occasionally helped coach Rafe. June has refused his attempts to set her up with Rafe more times than she could count. James moved to town a few years ago after he heard that the Cameron’s were looking for another ranch hand.

“Wanna invite Sarah for dinner?” Amber asked as they carried the groceries into the house.

June shrugged, “Sure, we haven’t seen her since she left for Charleston.”

“I’ll call her, can you get started on the potatoes please,” Amber said as she started dialing Sarah.

“yeah yeah,” June rolled her eyes playfully as she unpacked the grocery bags.

The three girls were all friends in school and Sarah ended up moving to North Carolina for college once they graduated. They managed to stay as close as possible with the distance. Sarah is Rafe’s sister and of course she knew of June’s infatuation with her older brother. Sarah wanted them to end up together, always talked about how perfect it would be to have her as a sister in law.

When they were younger and June would go to Sarah’s house she always prayed she’d run into Rafe. Occasionally she would but he was the same old Rafe back then. Would make slightly flirty comments towards her making her flustered and making her crush on him grow.

The girls sat around the dining table laughing at old stories from their childhood. Every time they got together it felt like they were fifteen again sneaking alcohol from Ward’s liquor cabinet and turning into a fit of tipsy giggles.

“And then Rafe came out from the barn and June practically jumped on him she was so excited to see him,” Sarah laughed tilting her head back.

June covered her embarrassed face at the memory, “Oh god! I forgot about that.”

“That was the closest you’ve gotten to him like ever,” Amber added, “You need to drink tequila again.”

“That will probably be the closest I get to him ever,” She said a hint of sadness in her voice.

“June you should just ask him out yourself. Forget all that old fashioned stuff. My brother would never be mean to you.”

June took a sip of her wine, “I know he wouldn’t be mean but it’s the rejection that turns me away. He could have anyone why would he want me. He also is always out with some other girl. She’s usually a lot prettier than me.”

“June Summers you know I don’t tolerate that negative talk in our house,” Amber scolded, “You are beautiful and he would be lucky to have someone like you. I also highly doubt he’d reject you.”

She smiled at her, “And how do you know that?”

Sarah rolled her eyes, “Because he’s like practically in love with you! He doesn’t great other girls the way he treats you. He also looks at you different.”

“Then why has he never asked me out! It just doesn’t make sense. I’d rather keep him as a friend than lose him completely.”

“I wish he didn’t have such a thick skull then maybe he’d have some sense,” Sarah stood grabbing the girls empty plates to take to the sink.

“Fallin off too many bulls in his life,” Amber giggled.

June stood to grab the bottle or wine to refill their glasses, “Oh I’m gonna head out soon. Rafe is picking me up on his way home from James’ and he texted me he’s on his way,” Sarah said beginning to wash the dishes.

“Come on so early?” Amber gave her puppy eyes.

She laughed, “Yes, I have an exam online in the morning I still need to study for. That masters won’t get itself ladies.”

“Speaking of James has Amber told you that she thinks he’s going to propose soon,” June smirked trying to forget about the fact that Rafe was coming to her house soon.

“Shut up!” Sarah exclaimed.

“I know! He’s been so suspicious lately! He’s been working a lot and he’s not so subtly asked me for my ring size last month. Then he went to the city last week but he didn’t want me to come because he said he was doing some boring errands for Ward,” Amber’s cheeks began hurting from smiling so much at the thought of her boyfriend, “But I don’t believe that for a second. I think he went to buy a ring.”

“Oh please get married soon! I want to be a bridesmaid,” Sarah said excitedly as she dried her hands. There was a knock on the door as she finished, “That’s me, go get the door June while I get my things together.” She smirked at her friend.

“I hate you guys,” She whisper shouted in case he could hear them. Amber practically pushed June to the door.

She took a deep breath fixing her hair a bit before opening the door. He stood looking the same as he did earlier that day, still just as handsome as before. He smiled as soon as he saw her, he was really hoping it’d be June answering the door.

“Hi Rafe,” She said softly. Her timid demeanor returning whenever she was around him, he made all her confidence vanish always.

“Hi sweetheart, how are you tonight?” He asked with that cute smile he always wore around her. For a second she pretended he was picking her up for their first date.

“I’m good, and you?” She asked politely still stuck in her daydream.

“Better now, is Sarah ready?” He asked breaking her from her fantasy. Truthfully Rafe didn’t want the conversation to end but he knew he was there for a reason.

“Uh yeah she’s just getting her things,” As if on cue Sarah showed up next to June.

“I’m ready,” She hugged June tightly, “I’ll see you tomorrow Juney.”

“Does that mean you’re going out tomorrow with everyone?” Rafe asked with a smirk, a hopeful glint in his eyes.

“I guess so, can’t say no to this one,” She smiled nodding her head towards Sarah.

“I’m her favorite what can I say,” Sarah shrugged smirking, “Come on Rafe I gotta study.” She walked towards the truck leaving Rafe behind.

“I’ll see you tomorrow then June bug,” He tipped his hat at her like he always did before walking down the porch steps.

“Bye Rafe,” She waved and waved towards Sarah who was smiling at the pair from inside the truck.

June spent the night praying that the words Sarah said earlier that night were true. That Rafe somehow was in love with her. But she couldn’t help that voice that was always in the back of her head telling her how that could never be possible.

Maybe tomorrow she’d have some tequila.

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caramelstarlight · 1 year ago

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Yey!! but anyway Tighnari x reader that hangs out with the Rishboland Tigers and Spinocrocodile but they’re super chill and friendly with the reader. And don’t worry about running out of requests from me. I’m super hyperfixed on Genshin right now and especially with Fontaine coming next patch :) I’m getting Lyney.

OoOoOoooooooOooOoo!!!! :0 (Also thanks for helping me stay alive on tumblr lol)

Pocahontas that you? /j

Also I got shining Glitter in my first 10 pull on her banner. On the day she came out. Luck is backkk. Forgot to post it lol

Take a bad drawing :) (I need to draw better smh)

One with the Forest!

(Totally not his burst or skill hehhehhehehehhehehhehehhehhehhhhhhee)

Fluff bc yes. this feels short but I didn’t know what to add pfft.

Tighnari x Reader

Multiple animals gathered around you. Dusk birds landing on nearby branches and peacefully co-existing with the rishboland tigers. They all stayed calm near you due to your calming and peaceful presence. Always happening an animal in need.

Butterflies landed on your shoulders,foxes sat on rocks with spinocrocodiles resting with the bird buddies. As you hummed a gently and mesmeric melody. Keeping the peace between the animals. Knowing the animals near you with your eyes closed.

Some Rishboland tigers rubbed their faces near your legs. Foxes pawing at your feet as you opened your eyes. Seeing Tighnari who appeared in front of you. Some scurried away seemingly to make an opening for him. Seemingly calm around him as you barely moved a muscle.

He sat down near a few foxes. Using his hand to support his head as he watched you lovingly. Wagging his tail slowly and relaxing himself.

After you finished your humming the animals moved away. Satisfied and Tighnari came up to you as you got up. “I never knew you could sing or hum so wonderfully.” He’d state as he hugged you. “It’s music to anyone’s ears.” Tighnari said to you when you embraced the hug.

“Thank you Tighnari.” You would reply to him as you both sat in the comfortable silence. Wrapping his tail around you effortlessly and bringing you closer. Hugging you as you leaned into his chest. Both of your views focused on the sky and the water. Watching the lotus’s sway slowly with each wave.

He seemed to be more clingy than usual. But he’s busy with work so it’s rare to see him off. He most likely found you on a patrol or during research. Watching as Rishboland tigers letter you pet them. Amazed at how close you were to the animals in the forest and how much trust they placed into you. Slightly jealous that you didn’t pet his ears or tail.

“How are you so close with them?” “They hear me sing often and I always help them so they know I’m not a threat.” You’d tell him. Intrigued by your answer. Humming softly again.

“Just like you say, One with the Forest Tighnari~” you’d say to him as he and you both laughed. Watching a finch land on his head between his ears. Flicking them as you used a finger to put the finch on your finger. Showing it to Tighnari for a few moments. Trying to not trigger his more animalistic side, it flew off to a nearby branch.

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timandlucy · 1 year ago

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hi suz! i hope the rest of your week was good!

i know what you mean about 2x05 especially, it always bothers me. i swear, on my death bed i'm gonna be like "the drew crew's treatment of nancy in 2x05 was unfair and while they "apologized" i wanted a more substantial apology, especially because nancy never forced them into anything with the agleaca" and everyone is gonna be like "okay, can you please move on from this?" lol. i agree about the wraith storyline, i think that one and nancy being lucy and ryan's daughter are the strongest storylines they had on the show and were the best executed (but regardless, the writers always managed to leave me surprised, they definitely knew what they were doing!)

i love that rep is so special to you 🧡 i love that about taylor albums; she seems to always release something when someone needs it most. what's your favorite song from rep? mine is probably call it what you want, but i always go feral when don't blame me, i did something bad, or look what you made me do come on hdsbfsdabfldsa the eras tour transition from dbm into lwymmd??? absolutely brilliant.

awwww the lakes is such a gorgeous song! i know what you mean, it makes me feel so soft and i love that. atw 10 will always be that bitch for me, it's just iconic! the great war is absolutely the nace song of all time, like holy shit they WENT THROUGH IT but they really did survive the great war 😭 every taylor song is absolutely about nace, i will not be taking questions at this time. and yes, that line of long story short absolutely makes me think of them, especially "and he feels like home" bc of "ace is my person" and timeless works so well, especially with the whole "ace will always be able to find you" thing. temperance may have put a death curse on them, but in the end she just made their connection even stronger so, joke's on you, blondie!

not state of grace for ryan and lucy i'm gonna lose it 😭😭😭😭 no but really that's so perfect for them.

i'm never sorry when asking taylor swift questions, i could talk about taylor's music all day long! i know i already asked your favorite taylor song, but what would you say are your favorites from each album? (i love asking people this question lol)

i do celebrate thanksgiving and had a nice relaxing time at home, thank you! are you looking forward to the holiday season? do you have any traditions that you're looking forward to?

lots of love, your secret sleuth 🧡🔎

Hi! My week was okay, busy, but I got some stuff done, so I'm just glad it's a new week and I can rest a bit more. How about yours?

I am so happy someone agrees. I usually always see people defending the crew, but so rarely do I see someone actually saying that their treatment was wrong and there should have been more apology for it. And yeah! The writers were great at plot twists for sure. I never saw them coming.

That's tough because rep is full of bangers! But I do also go feral for Don't Blame Me (the reputation stadium tour version is like... stuff dreams are made of). I think top spot would go to either call it what you want OR king of my heart, with honorary mention of getaway car. And I just named like half of the album. Rep is just that bitch! Also, the transition from DBM to LWYMMD was WILD. Like out of this world religious experience, 11/10, would recommend to everyone.

taylor swift truly never beating those nace shipper allegations, ykwim? Also have you noticed that this verse of long story short:

And I fell from the pedestal / Right down the rabbit hole / Long story short, it was a bad time / Pushed from the precipice / Clung to the nearest lips / Long story short, it was the wrong guy

was literally written about nace?? Fell from the pedestal - Nancy recanting her testimony against Everrett to save Ace's life. And clung to the nearest lips - Gil, Park, take your pick...

Haha well I'm glad, because I definitely, ahem, got carried away again. I'm just very passionate about taylor swift lyrics and nace okay. That's fine.

Oh, such a fun question!

Debut - gotta go with Picture to Burn, such a fun song I never get tired of singing in my car.

Fearless - The Way I Loved You (also Mr Perfectly Fine)

Speak Now - Last Kiss and Timeless

1989 - Out of the Woods (but the og, they really changed it on TV and I can't listen to that version)

reputation - call it what you want / king of my heart

lover - death by a thousand cuts

folklore - exile / illicit affairs

evermore - willow

midnights - would've could've should've / the great war

That's great! I'm glad you had a nice time ☺️ I am... not the biggest fan of the holidays 🙈 It's not usually the most fun time for me, but I am determined to make the most of it, so yeah, I'm looking forward to old Christmas songs and mulled wine and good food, and most of all, my SS gift! I'm so excited bc I feel like we're vibing and you get me, so it'll be perfect. How about you? Any fave traditions I can steal?

Lots of love to you my secret sleuth, and I your message totally made my week. Thanks for letting me ramble about taylor swift and nace.

#secretsleuthgiftexchange #idk who you are but ily

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smallboyonherbike · 11 months ago

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for the end of year asks: 2, 9, 14, 20

ty ty!! 💖

2 - album of the year

if we go purely by my top apple music album it's måneskin - rush! which is a good album but not solid enough for me to say absolute top - it had the advantage of being released in january.

i do stand by my other top 5 as more reflective: diamonds & dance floors by ava max (another jan release but SUCH a solid pop album, if you also skip ballads this is for you), the rise and fall of a midwest princess by chappell roan (i didn't check her full album out until like november and it still got top 3 bc of how obsessed i got, she needs to blow up bc she's a musical and aesthetic genius), this is why by paramore (paramore being my 2nd fave artist of all time ofc their new album would be up there but i truly do love it, it's an evolution but also just so Them still!)

5 is renaissance beyoncé which was a 2022 album sure but i hope it's in my top 5 forever bc it's album of all time for me!!! could i have just picked one album maybe but shhhhh!!

9 - best month for you this year

hmmm i'm so bad at remembering shit in terms of months. i'll say november bc it's always a good month - my birthday, plus fall, plus it's after october which is my busy travel month at work so i get to be chill again. this year i went to the renaissance fair w three friends and it was a blast!!

14 - favorite book you read this year

oh god lemme try not to write an essay lol. i read way more this year than usual as an adult bc my current job is often slow (having actual free time still feels weird)

i'll instead talk about the three authors i read the most - mary balogh - i read 16 of her books this year. i really went on a tear and would have read more if i wasn't trying to save at least a few for the future. she writes regency romance which is yknow a big genre w lots of authors but smthg about her style really works for me! she somehow manages to have series with like 8 characters and their love interests and you care about all of them and they're all distinct enough to be side characters that Matter

jasmine guillory - read 7 this year. contemporary black romance. her characters are all loosely connected but you could easily read any of them solo! tropey meet cutes but not overly so, and crucially the characters can be flawed and have issues without being total assholes who shouldn't be together

seanan mcguire - read 7 october daye series this year. i've long been a huge fan of her wayward children fairy tale fantasy series but hadn't read any of her october daye urban fantasy until last year and now i'm obsessed! i literally got some of them as physical books from the library instead of ebooks which i hadn't done in years, bc i couldn't possibly skip any. october is a stubborn jerk and i love her so much. also cat boyfriend and found family incl her ex-death omen <33

20 - what's something you learned this year?

uhhhhhh i've thought about this previously and idk tbh. it's felt like a p solid year for me without a ton new going on. but maybe sliiiightly more being willing to push past my social anxiety to do new things! i can get p complacent in how i've set up my life to not have to do anything new, which makes me feel like i'm less anxious than when i was in school until suddenly something New is happening.

but like having to travel alone for work, def in 2022 i mostly got take out bc eating alone in a restaurant feels So Scary. but this year i was like i wanna eat hot food and relax and enjoy and it was p nice! something i still wanna work on in general, doing a bit more new/social things while still being a homebody lol

#megamazing #oops i really went off but hey it's my blog #ask //

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its-tiamat · 2 years ago

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Hello! Good luck on your driving exam and your uni :D I want to request something, but no need to rush okay, take your time ^^ sooo my request is.... shigaraki, miruko, and hawks (oh and it's only if you're alright with three characters ofc!) headcanons! welllll so... i'm this type of person who sings when i'm doing something, whether it's doing chores, playing games, or working on my homeworks. i also sing to my cat and act as if i'm a disney character ksskjsjs. Anddd yeah if it's okay i want to request hcs with this type of s/o who sings in their daily life as if they're a disney/musical character ksksks i hope my request makes sense!! Thank you so much, I hope you're doing great!

|| WITH A S/O THAT LIKES TO SING ||

Awww this is so sweet! Anyway, sorry for the long wait, I'm usually faster with requests but yeah. Uni. I'll probs be a bit slower with requests now, but I hope you'll keep liking my lil headcanons!

Pairings: Shigaraki × reader • Miruko × reader • Hawks × reader

Shigaraki looked at you weird when he noticed you dancing around your house, watering your plants and singing to them.

You stopped when your eyes met his, and raised a brow as to ask him if everything was alright.

"Plants can't hear you," he said.

"But you can." You smiled.

He scoffed and shoved his hands in the pockets of his sweatshirt. Of course he could hear you. How could you be so relaxed around a deadly villain was still a mystery to him.

"I...'msorry. Didn't wanna bother." You lowered your head, thinking how annoying you must have sounded to him.

"No!" Tomura lifted his hand, as to reach you as you turned around to silently complete your chore. "I like it. Kinda. It's just... unusual."

People were always so stiff around him, yet here you were singing and dancing with a watering can in your hands. For unusual that it was, he had found himself listening to your songs, muttering along to your favorite ones when you weren't listening.

He took a step, half turning on himself in a cranky emulation of your dance, before tripping on his own feet and falling to the ground. You failed to keep in your laugh, as he groaned and moved his hair to the side to look up at you.

"I like it. Please, don't stop singing."

He makes sure you never doubt how much he enjoys hearing your voice again. However, I don't think he'd try to dance with you again soon, he'd be too embarrassed.

Rumi, on the other hand, isn't one to join you or shower you in compliments, although she totally doesn't mind listening to you sing

She'd be the type to have voice notes of you singing that she listens to when she's having a rough day, without ever mentioning it to you. She fears it would cringe you too much.

But I mean, it's so relaxing to listen to you singing as you cook dinner, whenever she can get to stay for dinner and forger her responsibilities for a while.

If you're really really lucky you might hear her humming along to your favorite songs, but it's almost impossible to hear her sing out loud.

Yep, she's kinda self conscious bc her voice is more on the contralto side so she can't really hit those high "princess notes" you nonchalantly sing in. I feel like she'd be one to shrug off your reassurance on how pretty her voice really is, but it could actually have a deep impact on how she perceives herself.

The only way to get her to sing a bit is to blast loud ass music in the car and let her drive down a highway at top speed.

Those are the only times she sings more than you, mostly because you're busy gripping your seat

"Rumi babe, couldn't you slow do-"

"Hah! Like hell! Dis song is fire!"

He loves loves loves hearing you sing, and showers you with compliments.

"Mmmh babe your voice is so pretty."

"You sing so well, it's like a lullaby."

Also calls you "My little Songbird" and it melts your heart every time.

Sometimes youre doing your homework in your room while he's busy outside or in another room when you start singing, and after a few seconds some red feathers start twirling around you as he wants to hear you better.

He's loves pretending to be in a musical with you, and will totally duet you if you ask him to. He still prefers to listen to your voice than to his own of course, but there's something so intimate to him in hearing your voices harmonizing over the lyrics.

Wanna dance in the living room, hand in hand like that scene in The Beauty & The Beast? Asking him may sound a little corny, but he's already smiling like a lovestruck idiot simply at the idea of doing it.

Again, there are feathers everywhere as he doesn't want to lose the tune of your voice if the music is too loud.

Also because romantic mood, and it's like dancing in a rain of red rose petals.

He will fall asleep if you sing to him, like hum to him softly while combing his hair with a hand and it's a matter of seconds before he's sleeping soundly.

masterlist

taglist: @ok-what-now-huh @liberace2 @whiteusagi @help-idk-what-my-life-is @comehome2myheart @peachysuguru @iam-mentally-unstable

tell me if you want to be added!

#mha headcanons #bnha headcanons #mha shigaraki #shigaraki x reader #shigaraki tomura #shigaraki headcanons #miruko headcanons #rumi usagiyama #bnha miruko #miruko x reader #bnha hawks #hawks headcanons #keigo takami x reader #keigo takami #takami keigo #mha hawks #hawks x reader

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change-the-world-someday · 3 years ago

Text

I'll Be Here

Oh boy I'm back baby. Here's a Derek Shepherd x Teen!reader bc I just started Grey's Anatomy. I'm well aware I've had stuff in my inbox for over a year, and frankly I'll get round to them soon. I hope this tides you over.

Derek Shepherd x Teen!Reader

Summary: Who'd have thought the child of Derek Shepherd would suffer with something even he can't cure?

A/N: I've been twitching a lot lately so this was a comfort write. Derek and Meredith don't have a relationship, and there's a bit of canon divergence.

⚠️TW⚠️ Talk and descriptions of twitching/tics

—•—

You knew the moment you woke up you were going to have a bad day.

Your alarm went off at the bright and early nine and as you made a move to turn it off, your arm twitched, almost pushing it off your nightstand. You let out a sigh, leaning down and managing to shut it off and sit up.

Until you neck starts to snap left and right, tensing and relaxing each muscle.

“Fuck’s sake,” you mutter under your breath, standing and stretching, well, as much as you can before your twitches start up again. You makes your way downstairs, finding an empty kitchen and a note on the counter. You manage to pick it up and read it.

Sorry, I got called in today. Let me know when you’re up

— Dad

You shake your head, whistling and shaking your hands. Great, so you're alone on a day where your twitches are worse than normal. You sigh and head back upstairs, almost losing balance on the stairs, and takes a quick shower before trying to style your hair. With difficulty, you get changed before reaching over and grabbing your phone. You grip it tightly, until it’s flung across the room.

“Shit,” you mumble, reaching down and picking it up. You open your messages, trying to text your dad.

Y/N

Hi, up. Bad today

It’s short, and to the untrained eye, might seem pretty rude, but to you and your dad, is a warning. Heading back to the kitchen, you try to eat a bowl of cereal. Instead, you managed to spill the cereal twice, drop milk on the floor, and then poke yourself in the side of the face a few times with your spoon instead of eating.

Your phone buzzes.

Dad

Do you need me at

home?

Y/N

No. Just bad

Dad

Do you want to come

to the hospital? You

can stay in one of the

offices if you want

You think about it for a moment, though you don’t get too long before your phone starts ringing. You pick up.

“Hi—” you whistle “—hi Dad.”

You hear him sigh. “Hey kid. Do you want to come in today? I can make sure no one stops you and you can come straight to the office.”

You click, your neck jerking forward. “You sure? I’ve—“ you whistle “—never been there before. I don’t want—“ you click “—to become a case study.”

Your dad laughs lightly down the phone. “I won’t let them. Just make your way over, and keep your earphones in. Music helps.”

You nod, before your neck twitches to the side and cracks, making your dad wince audibly. “Okay. I’ll let you know—“ you whistle and sigh, clearly getting frustrated with yourself.

“I get it. Don’t work yourself up; it’ll only make it worse. See you soon. Love you.”

A ghost of a smile passes across your face. “Love you too, Dad.”

—•—

Derek hangs up and leaves the store cupboard, almost bumping into Dr Bailey as she marches past.

“Watch where you’re going, McDreamy,” she scolds and Derek smiles, though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. Bailey narrows her eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“Y'N's coming here. They're having a bad day,” he replies and Bailey nods, immediately catching on. “No one else knows.”

Surprisingly enough, you haven’t met anyone from Derek’s work, except for Bailey and even then, that was an accident. You'd bumped into her on a bad day and Derek had to explain what was wrong. Ever since, Bailey’s had a soft spot for you.

“Not even the chief?” She asks and Derek shakes his head. “Did you warn them?” He nods. “Well, there’s not much else you can do.”

“They're texting me when they’re a few minutes away. If I get caught in surgery, can you meet them at the doors please?”

The two stop in the corridor, Bailey pulling him over. “I have my own schedule too, Shepherd.”

Derek nods. “I know, but you’re the only other person here they know, and you know how they can get in places they don’t know…”

Bailey looks around. “If you’re caught up, you owe me one.”

Derek smiles and nods, a look of relief on his face. “Thank you.”

—•—

You're walking down the street to the hospital, constantly readjusting your earphones so they don’t fall out. Your neck keeps snapping to the side and jerking forward, earning a few odd looks from strangers. You sigh, a few minutes away from the hospital, and pull out your phone. Before you can do anything, though, you promptly throw your phone on the pavement.

Thank god your dad bought you one of those industrial phone cases. You pick it up, dodging people as you go to call your dad. He picks up after two rings.

“Hi, I’m—“ you click “—a minute away.”

“Okay. I don’t think I’m going to be able to meet you at the doors. Just walk through, take the stairs to the fifth floor, and come down the hall. I’ll be in the break room, second door on the left.”

Your eyes widen; you're going to be by yourself? Walking through a hospital? Where no one knows you?

“O-Okay,” you stammer out and your dad sighs.

“I’m sorry kid. Everything’s going to be okay. I’ll see you in a bit.”

He hangs up and you take a breath, nodding to yourself. You pocket your phone and turn your music up as loud as it can be. Your dad was right, it does ease your twitching, though not as much as you'd like.

Fall Out Boy blasts through your earphones as you walk through the doors of Seattle Grace. You refuse to make eye contact with anyone, your neck twitch making it a lot easier to achieve. You click as you make your way to the stairwell, making your way up.

You don’t hear the calls of concerns from the interns following you, trying to catch up to you.

By the time you reach the fifth floor, the two interns have gone to find Dr Bailey to try and assist them, and Dr Shepherd who can help with the disorder being presented. They haven’t had someone who needs medical attention blatantly ignore them and go to a certain department before.

You lose your balance a little as you walk through the doors to the fifth floor, your neck jerking left and right repeatedly, muscles tensing and relaxing. Your hands are shaking and you walk like a new fawn.

You reach the door and push it open, whistling and clicking as you do so. At least you can see your dad today.

—•—

Derek knows immediately what kind of day is happening when you steps into the room. You're a jerking mess, neck and shoulders tensing and relaxing as though given electric shocks. You're whistling, clicking, and your eyes have recently started screwing shut, temporarily blinding you.

And that’s with your headphones in.

“Hey Y/N,” he greets, gently taking one earbud out of your ear and leading you to the seats. At least if you're sat, you have less of a chance of hurting yourself.

“Hi Dad,” you reply until a whistle comes back out. “S-Sorry.”

“Hey,” Derek places a firm but kind hand on your shoulder, “don’t apologise. None of this is your fault.” There’s a silence between you two, only broken by the sound coming from the removed earphone. “Fall Out Boy? Nice choice.”

Your neck snaps but you give a small smile. “Thanks.”

“Do you want something to eat? Did you manage to get some breakfast?” You sigh, your hands twitching and trembling, which tells Derek everything he needs to know. “Is it a bomb-site there?”

You shake your head. “I managed—“ you whistle “—to clean up. Took ages.” Your neck jerks forward. Derek sighs, putting an arm around you and pulling you into his side. You've always been wary; you never want to hurt your dad accidentally but Derek doesn’t care. You're his kid, and nothing will change that.

“You’re okay. Do you want some lunch? We can go to the cafeteria—they’ve got some pizza in there that’s actually pretty good.”

You nod, knowing anything you try to say will be interrupted by one of your twitches. You walk alongside Derek, trying your hardest to suppress your twitching as you make your way through the hospital and into to lift, where a few others are going to different floors. Derek notices, and leans into your ear. “You don’t have to hide it here, kid. Promise.”

There’s an audible sigh of relief from you as you let out a scatter of twitches, your neck jerking forward as you whistle and click. Your hands shake and flap and you let it all go. A few of the doctors and nurses turn around to look at you, but one harsh glare from Dr Shepherd makes them all go back to minding their own business.

You exit the lift and walk through the corridors to the cafeteria. You join the queue and you feel Derek keep an arm around you, trying to help you ease your twitches. You're grateful, though you both know there isn’t much either of you can do to stop them. You sigh, putting your earphones back in and blasting some music, this time Hozier.

Derek watches you struggle, sympathy panging through his heart. He hates that you've been cursed with this, and the worst part is they can’t find anything that’s causing it. It’s not like there’s a tumour or growth on your brain Dr Shepherd can operate on, you're just stuck with it.

“Dr Shepherd, good afternoon. Who’s this?” Lindsey, the server behind the food counter, greets. Derek smiles.

“Afternoon Lindsey. This is my kid, Y/N. They're joining me at the hospital today,” he explains, gently tapping you on the shoulder and causing you to take an earphone out. “Y/N, this is Lindsey.”

“Hi,” you greet, before your neck jerks forward yet again, cracking. The two adults give a wince and Lindsey gives you a small smile.

“What would you like, hun?” She asks. You look over, or does so as best you can. You can barely stay still long enough to read the menu. “We have a standard pizza or pepperoni pizza today. We also have some ham, chicken, or cheese sandwiches and salads. Or a few pastries we can heat up if you’d prefer.”

You give her a grateful smile. “Can I—“ you whistle “—have pepperoni please? And a—“ you click “—bottle of water?”

“Sure thing, and you Dr Shepherd?”

You put your earphones back in, trying your hardest to stop twitching. The problem is, the more you try to stop it, the worse it gets. It takes a few minutes for you to get your food, and when you do, Derek carries both trays to a table and sets them down. He takes a seat opposite you, giving a small smile.

“Thanks Dad,” you thank, pulling one earphone out so you can hear the conversation. You pick up the plastic fork and spear a few chips, but before you can eat them, your hand twitches and you throw it on the floor. You sigh but before either you or your dad can make a move to pick it up, someone else does it for you.

“You better be more careful. I don’t want fries on my shoes.” You recognise that voice anywhere, and smile as you look up at Dr Bailey. You let out a small laugh.

“Hi Dr Bailey,” you greet, whistling as your head snaps to the side and back. She smiles at you.

“Heard you were coming and through I’d say hello.”

—•—

“Guys, shut up,” Cristina hisses. “Do you see?”

“See what?” George asks as they quieten down. She nods her head and the table of interns turn around to catch sight of what’s going on. Dr Bailey is talking Dr Shepherd… and you sat with them. You're not dressed in any kind of hospital gown, nor are you wearing scrubs, so who are you? And how are you making Dr Bailey smile?

Meredith watches, catching sigh of your hair, and her eyes widen. She reaches over, slapping George on the arm.

“What?” He asks.

“It’s them,” she replies, “the person from earlier. Y’know, the one who didn’t check in at reception and took the stairs. The one who ignored us!”

George’s eyes widen too, and the two get up and start to walk over, ignoring the protests of Cristina and Izzie as they reach the table. You're struggling to get a sentence out, whistling and clicking as you try to tell Dr Shepherd about something.

“Dr Shepherd!” Meredith calls out, making the conversation halt between you. “Are you with a patient?”

She misses how you cringe. Dr Shepherd frowns, which only deepens more at the crack in your neck as it jerks forward. “Dr Grey, Dr O’Malley, how can I help?”

“W-We saw, erm, this kid walk straight through and up to neurology without checking in. Do you want us to check them in and get a better examination? We were going to come to you for a consult when we saw them anyway, but since you already seem to know them…” George trails off and Dr Shepherd looks between you, the interns, and Dr Bailey.

An awkward silence falls between you, only disturbed by the occasional whistle or click from you. “I can get a wheelchair if it’s easier.”

“No need,” Dr Shepherd cuts in. “They aren’t a patient, their name’s Y/N. They're my kid and they're accompanying me to work today.” The two interns look at each other, mortified. “Now, if you excuse us, we were just having lunch.”

Your hand flexes again, making you throw your fork on the floor (the second one in the space of fifteen minutes) and sigh. You go to pick it up, only for George to beat you to it. “Here.”

“Than—“ you click as your head jerks forward “Thank you.”

“Don’t you two have places to be?” Bailey asks, less than impressed with her two interns in front of her. They both nod and scurry off, back to their table to tell Cristina and Izzie about Dr McDreamy’s kid.

—•—

“I don’t know how they cope with it,” George muses as the group of four interns sit on some beds in the back corridor, waiting to be paged for something.

“Yeah, twitching all the time. God, I’d kill myself if I had them,” Izzie continues. “Would ruin my chances at both medicine and modelling. And a lot of other things, probably.”

“Do you think they wanted to go into medicine? Y’know, before they started twitching? Or have they always had it?” Cristina asks. “Or do they have a tumour?”

“For your information,” a voice cuts in, making all four jump and turn to the source, meeting the likes of Dr Shepherd, “Y/N wants to be a lawyer.” He walks down the corridor to them, everyone’s cheeks turning red a the prospect of being caught gossiping. “The tics developed about eighteen months ago, just before we moved to Seattle. It’s not a tumour, or any kind of swelling; in fact, we have no clue what set it off.”

“Have you done an MRI? CT?” Meredith suggests and Derek nods.

“We ran everything. It all came back clean.” He looks at Cristina. “They did want to be a doctor. When we realised we couldn’t cure them, they were upset for weeks. They—“

“Talking about me?” A voice calls down the corridor and Derek’s face splits into a smile, something that doesn’t go amiss by the others. You whistle, making it to the group and taking a seat next to your dad. You lean on him… until your neck twitches and you almost fall back. Derek’s hand shoots out, supporting you.

“We were just—“ Izzie tries to say before you cut her off, clicking in the process.

“Let me guess.” You whistle. “The doctor que—“ you click “—question and how I live with—“ your neck jerks to the side “—it.”

Your dad gives you a smile. “Ten out of ten for you,” he smiles. You nod.

“Well, I used to want to—“ you click “—be a doctor, until we found out this is incurable.” You whistle. “Pretty soul-crushing.” Your neck jerks back, and if it wasn’t for your dad’s hand, you would’ve hit the wall. “And we’ve learned to adapt to it. There are—“ you click “—days where I’m fine, with only a few, and days—“ you whistle and everyone can feel the frustration radiating off you. Still, no one chooses to finish your sentence, letting you get it out yourself “—like this.”

—•—

For a while, the six make general conversation, until, slowly but surely, you start to drift off. It isn’t until there’s an odd silence that Derek notices, and he has a smile on his face as he looks down at you, asleep on his shoulder.

“They look so… peaceful,” Izzie comments quietly, the others agreeing.

“Yeah. We’ve had a few rough days this week. God knows they need the rest,” Derek mutters. He shifts to look between the four. “Any of you wake them, I’ll make sure you’re banned from the OR for a month.”

Everyone’s eyes widen as they nod in unison; they’re all begging for a chance at more surgery. Carefully, Derek manoeuvres you so your head’s lying in his lap, body stretched out on the hospital bed. He carefully cards his fingers through your hair, detangling it as gently as he can.

The interns’ pagers go off, assigning them jobs and the four rush off, leaving Derek and you to rest. He smiles, getting himself comfortable sitting on the end of the bed, back against the wall.

“Get some rest, buddy. I’ll always be here for you.”

—•—

Hope y'all enjoyed. I know it's pretty different from what I usually write, but this is for my own comfort so...

Sorry not sorry

Taglist

@breadsticks2004 @criminalsmarts @rororo06@ogmilkis@ssebstann@herecomesthewriterwitch @garcias-batcave @spidey-reids-2003 @lovelylaurens@sataninsatin@snarky--starky @mcntsee @averyhotchner @dindjarinsspouse @lovers-in-japan-reign-of-love

#derek shepherd #teen reader #Derek Shepherd x teen reader #Derek Shepherd x reader #platonic #tics #twitches #gender neutral reader #male reader #female reader #greys anatomy

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lovely-angst · 4 years ago

Text

walk me to the bus stop

bakugou x f!reader

genre: fluff

summary: bakugou suddenly finds a terrified girl hanging to dear life on his arm, which resulted in him walking her to the bus stop daily. but he didn’t mind

a/n: slight OOC bakugou bc he’s quite soft in this fic. ALSO! I wrote this in 3rd person pov bc it starts off with bakugou and the reader as strangers. lmk what you think!

word count: 1.6k

1.02.21

It was a gloomy, rainy day as Bakugou stood outside waiting for the bus. His black umbrella keeping him dry as he listened to music through his headphones, distracting him from how tired and hungry he was—also to keep people from starting random conversations with him.

He had stayed late after school, discussing with some students from the support course about his hero costume, planning ways to upgrade his costume with the new moves he had come up with.

Overall, he was satisfied with what they had come up with—not that he would let anyone know. He trusted the support students. It was their job to support the heroes like himself.

Glancing down at his phone, he noticed the bus hadn’t arrived yet like it was supposed to. It must’ve been due to the bad weather, but since Bakugou was in an okay mood, he’d let this slide.

Staring ahead at the random people passing through, Bakugou suddenly felt a small hand wrap around his arm, holding on tight.

His face scrunched up before he whipped his head toward his harasser, ready to blow up at them before their small, shaky voice stopped him.

“Please help me,” she gasped, pressing herself tighter against his arm, “there are two men following me.”

His body fell rigid as he glanced down at her terrified form. Her hands shook against his arm as she stared blankly ahead, afraid of what’s to come.

“Please,” she begged, “save me.”

“Jeez,” Bakugou snarled, startling her from her daze.

Her desperate eyes tearing up before she began to shake her head, hands clawing at him to not leave.

“You kept me waiting at the bus stop, idiot. Didn’t you think I might be worried about you?” the blond continued, staring down at the terrified girl with his brow raised.

Confused, her glassy eyes met with his strong and comforting red ones, and he saw the tension leave her body—she knew she was safe now.

He subtly gave her a signal with his eyes to continue the conversation, “S-Sorry, I didn’t mean to take so long,” she replied with a small smile, thankful for the male.

“Here, you’re getting wet from the rain. Didn’t I tell you to bring your umbrella today? You never listen, do you?” Bakugou starts as he pushes her beneath the umbrella, the two of them sharing before he turns to look over his shoulder.

Two men dressed up in suits were not far behind before suddenly halting from the appearance of Bakugou.

“Whatever, you’re lucky I always wait for you here after school,” he emphasizes, hoping the two men would get the gist and get off her back in the future.

Thankfully, it seems they did. The two men turn a corner as if that was their intended route, leaving the Bakugou and the mystery girl alone and now safe from what could have been a horrible situation.

Bakugou waited a couple of minutes before he turned back towards her, “those two geezers are gone now,” and as soon as those words left his lips, she burst into tears, sobbing into the young man’s arm.

“Hey, what’s wrong with you?” he asked, more confused than worried.

“Thank you so much,” she cried, pulling away from his now damp arm, “I was so scared. They’ve been following me for ten minutes now, I had to keep walking so they wouldn’t figure out where I was going,” she explained, wiping her tears away.

“But then I saw you, and I knew you would be able to help me,” she confesses and Bakugou gives her a questioning look. “I saw your uniform. You’re a UA student.”

“So? What of it?” Bakugou questioned but stopped when he saw the way her bright eyes sparkled, “I knew you were a hero.”

Bakugou learned that her name was (Name) and that she went to school a few blocks away from UA and took the same bus to the train station. The bus ride to the train station was a quiet one—granted, Bakugou had his earbuds in, which kept (Name) from starting any conversations with him.

As (Name) followed Bakugou off the bus, she was surprised to see him waiting for her, “which train are you taking?” he asked in his gruff tone, but she gave him a small smile.

“I take the red line, how about you?” she asked, following him towards the train gates, “green, it looks like we’re going in the opposite direction.” he states before turning his back towards the girl, “see ya.”

(Name)’ s mouth opened to say more, her hand reaching out for him, “please don’t leave me,” she wished, but letting her hand fall back to her side, all she could muster out was a “see ya” before turning away from the male to board her train.

The following day, Bakugou’s day resumed like normal. As the school day came to an end, Bakugou wondered if (Name) had gotten home safely. Hopefully he scared those two losers enough to keep her safe.

As Bakugou walked past UA’s gates, a small, timid voice called out for him, “Bakugou-kun?”

Turning his head, his brows furrowed as he noticed her nervously waiting for him, “I-, umm, could you maybe walk me to the bus stop?” she asked, embarrassed, cheeks rosy as she looked down at her feet.

Bakugou glanced over at his friends, their lips curving into a smile, “you guys go ahead,” Bakugou stated, taking a step towards (Name).

“We’ll see you tomorrow, Bakugou!” Kirishima chirps, waving his friend goodbye before walking off.

(Name)’ s eyes widened before she shook her head, waving her hands out in front of her, “I’m sorry! I didn’t know you were going to hang out with your friends! Don’t worry about me, go ahead and-”

“It’s fine,” Bakugou cuts her off, “don’t worry about it.”

Her eyes held his red ones before she looked away guiltily, “I’m still a bit shaken up from yesterday...” she confesses and Bakugou can’t help but pity the girl. He brushes past her, hands in his pockets, before turning to look over his shoulder at her, “Well? Are you coming or not?”

And the way her eyes lit up as she skipped to catch up, Bakugou wouldn’t mind walking (Name) to the bus stop often.

“Thank you, Bakugou-kun,” she says happily, matching his pace.

The walk to the bus stop was a quiet but welcomed one. Bakugou had his hands in his pockets as (Name) strolled along beside him, a lot more confident now that the blond was beside her.

(Name) felt so thankful for the blond, her mouth opened to share her gratitude only until she caught two figures in front of her, dressed up in suits.

A gasp left her mouth before she grabbed onto Bakugou’s uniform sleeve, taking a step behind him, alerting the male right away.

Bakugou used his body to shield the frightened girl before his red eyes landed on the two men, only to find out that they were business men returning from a long day of work. “Of course she would be scared” he thought as he turned to face her.

“They’re just businessmen, (Name),” he stated, listening to how she let out a shaky breath before letting out an awkward chuckle, “Oh, sorry. I just got spooked there,”

His brows furrowed at the way she apologized, “you don’t have to be sorry those losers have you paranoid like this. I’ll walk you to the bus stop as many times as I have to as long as I know you’re safe,” Bakugou confessed, causing her eyes to widen.

“Do you mean that?” she whispers, hands still gripped onto his sleeve. He gives her a small nod before a light blush spread across her face before she glanced down, brows knitted together with a smile, “thank you. I feel very safe with you, Bakugou-kun.”

Soon, it became a routine for Bakugou and (Name) to wait for each other before heading down to the bus stop together before parting ways at the train station—even his classmates knew about this infamous (Name).

Bakugou and (Name) would always spill about their days to each other. It was crazy to them how their days could be worlds apart because of the paths of life they were currently walking down.

It didn’t take long before (Name) had finally regained her confidence and strength to walk herself to the bus stop, but she couldn’t find it in herself to tell the blond.

She enjoyed these days with him too much, but it was bound to happen one day.

“UA is turning into a boarding school,” Bakugou starts one day as the two were walking to the bus stop, “which means I won’t be able to talk you to the bus stop anymore.”

(Name)’ s heart dropped at his words. This day had come sooner than she had hoped.

“Oh, well, are you able to hang out around the city after school at all?” she asked, hoping there would still be a chance the two could meet.

“I’m not sure, it doesn’t look like we’ll be out and about,” he finishes with a sigh. His red eyes glance over towards (Name) ’s dejected form before giving resting his large hand atop her head, ruffling her hair, teasingly, “means you gotta be able to walk your little dumbass to the bus stop yourself now.”

A small smile formed on her lips, which caused his heart to relax, “you taught me how to be strong, I think I’ll be okay now.”

Bakugou found himself mirroring her smile. Gathering up the courage, he took her small hand into his with a playful smirk, “just so your forgetful self doesn’t forget what it’s like to have me walking by your side, keeping you from danger,” he teases.

A giggle escaped her lips before she begins to swing their intertwined arms, teasing him on how she knew he was going to miss this.

Yeah, he’d miss this.

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intearsaboutrobots · 3 years ago

Note

3, 4, 7 & 22 for the meta ask thing?

3. What is that one scene that you’ve always wanted to write but can’t be arsed to write all of the set-up and context it would need? (consider this permission to write it and/or share it anyway)

oh gosh... this isn't exactly right bc i am actually very excited by the set-up i came up w i am just not good on a Long Writing Project, but i have a very good crossover WIP for Lymond Chronicles/Legally Blonde The Musical lmaoo

the thing is it is actually VERY INTERESTING how those two canons interact, and i would love to actually write the novel length fic that this would be but i am notttt an experienced Long Thing writer!!! but i will put some of my fav snippets i wrote for it at the end under the cut :33

4. Share a sentence or paragraph from your writing that you’re really proud of (explain why, if you like)

She tugged Daisy gently into her, settling her against her side. Daisy tried her best to relax, ordering her muscles to loosen. This should have been the easiest thing in the world, she and Basira should have fit together like puzzle pieces. They'd both changed too much thought, Basira growing sharp and dangerous, her angles digging into the places Daisy had been hurt.

this is from good sleep is hard to find, and i forgot how much i liked writing this dynamic ! what's more fun than two ppl who used to be incredibly close and now things have changed and they just. don't fit anymore.

7. What do you think are the characteristics of your personal writing style? Would others agree?

hmm i'm not sure if this counts but i write a lot of people suppressing reactions? not someone crying, but someone holding back tears or biting their tongue until they taste blood, yk? i'm not really sure if that's the right answer for this question tho

22. Do you reread your old works? How do you feel about them?

no aha not really... this isn't always true but for the things i didn't write in basically one sitting and put right onto ao3 and particularly for anything written on a deadline, by the time im posting it i have spent so much time editing it that i feel terrible and (esp if it was on a deadline) have possibly cried over it. so i post it and then never read it again ghslkdfhsf

(i am trying to write in a way where i don't end up feeling terrible tho ghslkdf it's a work in progress)

((also rereading old stuff for this meme has been very fun actually, it turns out i like my writing sometimes??? literally who knew))

brief context: the AU is that Lymond=Elle, Pippa=Emmett, and Margaraet=Callahan. because of the ages tho, lymond went to harvard to follow margaraet before pippa did, so he didn't have someone to help him get out from under her thumb. when pippa meets him, he's still stuck in a like, fucked up relationship w her where she is also his boss and absolutely wields that over him. also this is copied right from my drafts pls disregard typoes etc...

---

It was past midnight when Phillippa spotted Lymond's fair hair coming out of the building. Hopping off the ledge she'd been sitting on, she dashed to catch up with him. He turned when he heard her coming. His hair was in disarray, his shirt still partially unbuttoned.

"Ah, Somerville comma Phillippa," he drawled. "I don't know why I'm surprised, you found a piece of personal business to stick your nose into so where else should you be? Well, I'm afraid you've missed the boat on this one. My relationship to Margaret has been the subject of campus gossip since longer than you've been out of diapers. I've heard some remarkable suggestions on what exactly is going on under the *bench at trials."

"Stop it!" she snapped. "You won't turn me off that easily."

"Turn you off, I wouldn't dare. Besides, that isn't exactly my field, is it." Every word was spat out like a dart, aiming to hurt. By his side, his hands were fisted, and his lips were tight and drawn. Phillippa stepped closer, standing up to her full height to glare at him.

"Francis Crawford. You are my friend," she emphasised the word, stuffing any feelings to the contrary into a box, "and I do not stand by and let my friends be hurt."

His face became a cold mask. She has misjudged.

"Consider the burden of my well-being lifted from you, then. Disregard any friendship you might have thought we had, Ms. Somerville. Don't you have a job to get to? Floors to mop?"

He hissed the last words, and turned on his heel to storm off. Phillippa didn't follow, frozen with rage and embarrassment.

---

"We can fix it. We can fight it-"

"Don't you think," Lymond hissed, "I've tried that?" He was angrier, Pippa realised, than she'd ever seen him. His fists were curled, white-knuckled at his sides, and all the muscles in his body were taut and pulled tight. "Do you think I'm some sorry slut, eager to roll over for my mistress? I have been trying for years, Philippa. For years, to get the evidence to bring Margaret down. But who exactly would believe me over her?

"I know exactly how people see me. I'm not in denial as to my reputation, I know what people whisper. Half the rumors are probably true. But I'm not, I'm *not* giving up. I won't let her win."

Philippa matched his gaze, trying to hide the quivering inside of her.

"Let me help you, then. You don't have to do this on your own."

"For the love of-" Lymond spun, throwing up his hands. "I don't want you to see me with her. I am not proud of what I have to do. I don't want you to see me like that."

"It won't change the way I htink of you." Her voice gained strength as she went on. "You'll always be the arrogant, cutting, rude, brilliant, charismatic man who kicked me out of class on my first day. And I want to help you."

---

Lymond sat on the edge of the curb, coatless.

It was a chilly night. They were still in midSeptember, but the weather was ready for the cold and wind of later in the year. She unzipped her coat and shrugged it off.

"You'lre going to get hypothermia."Lymond looked at the coat dangling from her hand, then back up at Philippa. She shook it slightly impatiently.

"Don't worry about me, I am from here. You're a California boy, I'm sure you have a very delicate constitution."

"Thank you for your concern," he said dryly. He still hadn't taken the coat. Philippa gave up on any idea of him being sensible and settled it around his shoulders herself. This close, she could detect the minute trembling of his muscles. He was not dressed to be outside in this weather, and she felt a little worried for him.

"Do you need a ride? I... well, I don't have a car. But I could call you one."

Lymond looked up at her, eyes crinkling. "Your chivalry is unmatched, Miss Somerville. But unnecessary. I do not have need of knights in shining armour, or any other kind for that matter."

"You should be so lucky to have a dragon. At least they'd warm you up before you start losing digits."

It had been the right response, apparently, as a smile crossed Lymond's face that was warmer and more genuine than anything she'd seen from him before.

"Is that what you are then? A guardian dragon, here to make sure no frostbitten layabouts turn into icicles?"

From behind him, she heard a voice calling. He looked up, then back to her.

"I'm afraid my little tantrum had better be at an end." He held her coat out to her, but she shook her head.

"Keep it for the next time you decide to go stand outside in the middle of the night. In case the next dragon is not so full of fellow-feeling."

#lymond chronicles #q answered #thank u!!!

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hale-of-stiles-heart · 2 years ago

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for the ship thing...... elise and bryce? >:3

Gives nose/forehead kisses - definitely Bryce! Just because of the height difference and how much he dotes on Elise, like he's such a wifeguy, just constantly kissing her on the forehead or the back of the hand solely because he can and he just loves her so much!

Gets jealous the most - I don't think either of them are necessarily very jealous, to the point that Bryce even tells her at one point that she's made him discover that he's a jealous man but she's literally the only person he's ever been jealous over. And I think Elise was always so focused on her plan for the future that even when she was a bit jealous, she just brushed it off. So once they're together I think they're secure enough to not really get jealous because why would they?

Picks the other up from the bar when they’re too drunk to drive - I think given Bryce's whole 'playboy rakehell' thing, he'd probably be the one who needed to get picked up. And he'd absolutely be the kinda drunk guy to be like "whoa, ma'am you can't take me home, I'm married" and Elise would have to go, "Yes, I know, I'm your wife"

Takes care of on sick days - given Elise's chronic illness, I think it's definitely more common that Bryce takes care of her on bad pain days or when she has a flare up, absolutely doting on her and making sure she's as comfortable as possible. I'm talking the whole nine yards, running her a hot bath, giving her a massage, getting her her favorite treats to snack on, cracking ridiculous jokes just to get her to laugh

Drags the other person out into the water on beach day - Definitely Bryce! I think if they ever went to the beach, Elise would just sit on a blanket or towel and read or sketch until Bryce turned his puppy dog eyes on her and managed to get her to wade into the water with him. And then because he's an incorrigible bastard, he'd scoop her up and book it into deeper water to get her drenched in the waves while she put up a token protest and laughed

Gives unprompted massages - definitely Bryce, though I can also see Elise giving him a nice relaxing shoulder rub after long days of dealing with his stressful duties as viscount, hands moving up to tangle in his curls and scratch her nails over his scalp as he just melts back against her like a puppet whose strings have been cut

Drives/rides shotgun - if they could drive, I think Bryce would drive so Elise could relax in the passenger seat and look out the window or pick the music. He's absolutely the guy who drives with one hand on the wheel and the other on her thigh or holding her hand bc he's down bad for her

Brings the other lunch at work - both! Elise will bring him lunch when he's stuck dealing with paperwork and discussing things with the local officials and whatnot, similarly though Elise doesn't work, Bryce will bring her lunch when she's busy sketching or reading or whatever to make sure she doesn't forget to eat and because he likes eating lunch with his wife

Has the better parental relationship - so despite her shitty relationship with her mom, probably Elise because she was close with her dad and their relationship was wonderful whereas Bryce barely knew his parents apart from knowing he was his father's heir because he was predominantly raised by maids and tutors

Tries to start role-playing in bed - I honestly feel like this could go either way, but I think Bryce would be the one confident enough to bring it up and he would probably do it with the dumbest fucking roles imaginable, just to break the ice, like offering to model nude for Elise or something, a little artist and muse action y'know - which could actually be a pretty hot roleplay for them tbh

Embarrassingly drunk dancer - Bryce. He dances like a white dad at a barbecue and Elise doesn't know whether to laugh or hide her face in embarrassment bc he's just pulling a

Still cries watching Titanic - so I've never actually seen Titanic but from what I know about it it's not very cry-worthy to me? so I can't really see either of them crying at it

Firmly believes in couples costumes - I don't think either have very strong opinions on them but Bryce does think they're cute and any time they get an invitation to a masquerade he's like 'babe can we please choose matching or at least corresponding masks and base our outfits on them so everyone knows we're together?'

Breaks the expensive gift rule during Christmas - Bryce!!! it's a combination of growing up rich and wanting to spoil Elise because for so long she went without so he completely disregards the rule to get her something especially nice

Makes the other eat breakfast - I think it's pretty mutual tbh! Like, I think Bryce makes sure Elise eats breakfast because he knows she'll just eat something small and not very filling if he doesn't and she makes sure he remembers to eat so he won't forget when he gets caught up in whatever he's working on

Remembers anniversaries - both of them! I think they're the kind of couple that would like propose to each other at the same time, just constantly trying to surprise the other with anniversary gifts or dinners or whatever only to get surprised themselves

Brings up having kids - Neither, since they both know the other either doesn't want kids or isn't deadset on having them so they never have a conversation about having kids because there's no indication either of them have changed their minds

#thanks so much for the ask!#very devious using my own ocs #answered #oc: elise #oc: bryce #oc: henry #oc tag #ts&tr tag

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keylimeimagines · 3 years ago

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Hii! If your matchups are open could I please request one with a character from genshin impact? <3

I’m Italian, my pronouns are she/her and I’m bisexual so any gender is fine. I’m an esfj/enfj (I never understood) and a Gemini.

Appearance: I’m 5’6, I have green eyes and dyed cherry red hair. I dress with black clothes and I wear black eyeshadow or eyeliner. I wear LOTS of rings and I love to exchange them with others <33.

Personality: I’m the sweet mom friend of the group, always there for everyone and my friends say that I’m really good at comforting people. I’m also calm and responsible, I usually am the one that takes care of other people. I’m very optimistic, I always try to see the good in everything and I often put other’s needs before my own, I would do everything for the people I care about and sometimes I’ve been told that I’m too kind for my own good. I have a sarcastic humor and I love making others laugh, people say that I should be more serious and that I shouldn’t joke around so much. I don’t like when people tell me what to do and I’m not afraid to stand up for myself or for someone else. All my friends tell me I’m very smart, I get very good grades and I do well in school. I also try to help my friends with study and school as much as possible. I’m also very ambitious, I always try to achieve my goals. My love languages are physical touch and words of affirmation.

Hobbies: I absolutely love listening to music, it helps me relax and I really like reading. Especially when I go reading in the woods or the nature. Also I love philosophy. I also love watching horror movies even though it’s impossible to scare me.

I really hope I did this right, have a great day!

CELESTIA HAS SPOKEN, AND THE ONE CHOSEN FOR YOU IS...

SUCROSE [INTP]!

SUCROSE MY WIFE MY QUEEN MY LIVE LAUGH LOVE UGH YOU'RE SO LUCKY /lh

She'd love to wear one of your many rings! It reminds her of how lucky she is to have you when busy with work <33

Her heart melts at your sweetness, and she goes to you when she needs to get something off her chest (but she fears that she's dumping too much onto you)

I'd say that she has a habit of not taking care of herself (like Albedo), so she appreciates you around to remind her to drink some water or to get some rest.

HOWEVER, she does recognize that putting others before has its cons, so she reminds you to take some time for yourself (hypocrite (affectionate))

She's practically all work no play, but she really like having you around when she's working since your sarcastic humor and jokes can help lighten the stress <33

you two are a bunch of smarties <33

she's very shy with physical affection, but she's very confident in complementing you and praising you for things you do! that doesn't mean she isn't gonna have a red face while giving affection bc this is sucrose we're talking about

she loves reading as well! although by reading, i mean that she likes rereading her alchemy notes to anybody who might wanna listen.

sucrose is so pretty im suing mihoyo/hoyoverse for making her so pretty 😡💞/j

#sucrose #sucrose x reader #sucrose x you #sucrose genshin impact #genshin impact #x reader #f/o imagines #genshin impact x reader #headcanons #vee's headcanons #vee's imagines #f/o #💖love across teyvat💖(matchup series)

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cloburon · 3 years ago

Text

A collection of Jon headcanons for my own personal reference: -Season 1 Jon cuts his hair short before his first day as head archivist as an attempt to come across as more professional and gain a bit of control over the situation. Before that he’s always had long hair. Specifically since he was little and specifically he had hair down to his waist in Uni. (Furthermore: jon is good at complex braids and pretty updos out of convenience) -Jon’s self identified gender is he/him pronouns out of convenience but he doesn’t personally ascribe himself to any real gender roles. Probably wears professional dresses and skirts to work as he pleases. “Masculine but like a little to the left, you know?”

-The reason why Jon assumes a lot of statements are from drug induced hallucinations is because he’s had many a drug induced hallucination and is Aware of how terrifying they are. -I imagine a lot of the reason why Jon and Georgie broke up is bc Jon is total ass at communicating but I ALSO like to think (from experience) that Georgie is a lesbian and got with Jon because he is a somewhat feminine guy (i.e, not incredibly masculine. Shorter than she is and skinny like a piece of hay) Only realized she was gay as the relationship was conveniently falling apart. They ended things in a mutual fight and said incredibly cruel things to each other which is why they don’t talk much up until jon’s a suspect for murder. -Also from experience. I feel like Jon is a person who has never fully grieved the people he’s lost and flip flops between ‘acceptance’ anger, and depression. Also never learned how to communicate his emotions because he wasn’t allowed to like have them. I imagine Gma Sims was pretty strict and intolerant of a 6 year old’s grieving outbursts so Jon just.. never did. -I think it’s obvious that Jon enjoys humanity studies but I think he is a numbers person. He understands science and math far more than he does emotions and people. I see him as a chemistry major and I imagine him having wanted to work in forensic science (before the magnus institute happened) All of that being said I believe Jon is also a talented singer (DUH), and painter although he’ll never claim to do so. I think there’s something neat about Jon wanting to solve crimes through violence and bring closure to families. -Adding on to Jon painting. He works with oils and despite being a person who doesn’t get human emotion he is *very* good at representing what emotions feel like on a human figure and landscape. Before becoming the head archivist he would paint to relax. (Tim respectively owns six Jon paintings) -Sasha was the only person to know what Jon’s music taste was because she straight up stole his ipod at work (I think he has an ipod still bc it’s convenient) Jon also illegally downloads 98% of his mainstream music but buys albums from underground bands directly. -Jon dresses like a grandpa but like a grandpa with taste. MAD cottagecore vibes and he’s not even trying. He wears a lot of autumnal colors. Loves a good pair of trousers like nobody’s business. He does however also wear these grandpa clothes with his coveted doc martens that he refuses to stop wearing.

#ramblings #tma #im not gonna tag these further

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kuroosweakness · 3 years ago

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hi lia! ahh we’re all kuroo deprived, aren’t we :(( i wanna add to your list of things i think he’d do:

holding your hand on a rollercoaster and feeling his grasp tighten at the drop (bc he’s totally not scared or anything hehe) i also feel like he wouldn’t scream, but would shut his eyes in silence as the ride drops

facetiming you during his lunch break and pretending to do a mukbang (“so now we’ll be trying the fried rice made by my lovely s/o. i’d give it a 9/10 for design but a 10/10 for taste. i can tell she/he/they put a lot of love in it”)

sitting by you when you’re busy working and feeding you. when you don’t open your mouth bc you’re distracted w your work, he’d lightly tap your mouth w the spoon until you accept the food (pls he’s so annoying in the best way)

if you guys were taking a long road trip, he’d bring a blanket for you to wrap yourself in. he’d love if you fed him snacks while he drove.

he definitely makes fun playlists w both of your fav music combined (alternating between one of your fav songs, and then his) <3 (making playlists is my love language hehe)

if you were falling asleep on him, he’d start patting your back slowly to help you relax.

omg when you come home from work after him, he’d take your coat off for you and help you take your shoes off.

similarly, if you guys are ever going out or if you’re leaving for work/school, he’d always put your jacket on for you before wrapping you in a bear hug :,)) and he’d be so careful not to get your hair stuck inside your jacket

he’d help pick out your jewelry/accessories bc he loves when you feel confident in what you’re wearing <3

i’ll be back w more soon hehe!! i hope you’re having a lovely day thinking about kuroo <3 MUAH ! - 🧸anon

OMG HI

i already read all of this twice hours ago (i wasn't feeling well so didn't respond right away :') AND IT MADE ME SO HAPPY

yes, yes we are :'( missing kuroo hours is somehow always open

omg him squeezing his eyes shut on a roller coaster instead of screaming makes so much sense! (the whole time on roller coasters, i'm just trying to make sure my lungs don't collapse lmao)

awww facetiming during lunch breaks :'

YES AHHH him feeding his s/o D': I COMPLETELY AGREE

kuroo would be so annoying, but in a way where you just can't be annoyed at him. annoying in the best way :)

ROAD TRIPS <33

making playlists together :' ahhhhh your love language is so cute ><

the falling asleep on him thing makes my heart turn into mush <3

awhjdkfjdshf PLS that's so soft :' pls help us put on our jackets (him making sure our hair doesn't get stuck <33 we love a considerate king)

AWWW you're making me miss him even more 😫 seeing his s/o confident gives him a sense of confidence too :))

you'll be back soon with more??? to what do we owe of your existence :' i would love that very, very, very much.

i was in pain for most of my day but your kuroo headcanons made me feel so much better on the inside <33

*aggressively sends you love*

#lia convos #🧸 anon #lia misses kuroo

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stevesharrlngtons · 4 years ago

Text

picking out the stitches.

roman godfrey x reader

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

word count: 14.1k (oopies)

warning: mentions of an abusive father

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

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

Tuna, turkey and swiss, BLT.

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

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

“(Y/N)?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah? And who told you that?”

“Destiny.”

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

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

You roll your eyes at the compliment.

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

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

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

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

“Enlighten me anyway.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That is usually the deal, yes.”

“So?”

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

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

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

“Still, he was your dad.”

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

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

You purse your lips and sigh.

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

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

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

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

“Four forty, even.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Peter belows a raspberry in response.

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

“I just find that hard to believe.”

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

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

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

“Apologies.”

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, well huge fight is an understatement.”

“Then what happened?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Not in name or blood.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Off the premise.” Olivia chimed in curtly.

“Excuse me?” Roman spat.

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

“This is beyond fucking ridiculous!”

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

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

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

“Tomorrow would be-”

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

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

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

“I love you, too.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?” He asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Since when?”

“Since now.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“With you. Yes.”

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

“Shee-it.” Peter said, looking sick.

“Shee-it, indeed.” You nod.

“So, that was it?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah?”

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

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

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

“New York that good, then?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Never again.”

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

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

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

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

“Got it. Thank you, Peter.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And Roman continued to keep it open.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You already have.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“If you don’t mind.”

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

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

Anything Roman did to you was heaven.

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

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

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

“Yeah, I heard she was seeing someone.”

“You know if he’s any good?”

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

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

He was already looking at you.

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

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

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

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

“So… how’s NYU?” He prompts.

“Good. I really like it.”

“Enjoying your studies?”

“Very much.”

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

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

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

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

“Thank you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Not really.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Not really an answer…” he murmurs.

“Not really your business.” You counter.

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

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

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

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

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

“Ask you what?”

“If I’m seeing anyone.”

“I don’t care, Roman.”

“Really?” He leans closer to you.

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

“How would you define it?”

“Different from you.”

“Oh come on,” He pokes, “Tell me.”

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

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

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

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

Roman doesn’t answer.

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

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

“(Y/N), I…”

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

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

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

“I need to apologize to you.”

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

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

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

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

“So it is option C.” You replied.

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

“Yes, I did. I do.”

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

“I already concluded that.”

He scoffs.

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

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

“Then why?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Just tell me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Tell me why you hurt me first.”

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

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

“I’ve got time.”

“It’s not pretty.”

“I don’t care.”

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

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

Of the loss.

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

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

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

“You don’t believe me?”

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

Roman raises his eyebrows in understanding with a slight nod.

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

“Stop making jokes.” He growled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“At the time, yes.”

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

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

“Stop, Roman...”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What time is the funeral?” He asked.

“10 AM.” You replied.

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

“I’ll be there.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was over.

Then why were you so sad?

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

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

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

He’d come.

Because he cared.

Because he loved you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And you loved him for it.

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

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

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

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

“It’s OK. You have time.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What now?”

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

“Wherever you are.”

You smile, “Then take me there.”

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

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

“I like it,” You said, “It’s very…”

“You hate it.”

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

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

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

“Yeah?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Vodka cranberry?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Me too.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No, it really isn’t.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You listened to Roman with baited breath.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your father threw a smarmy grin to Olivia.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?”

“You look very sexy when you’re this mad.”

You could see Roman’s face visibly relax. You knew he was still angry, but your comment had placated him.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” You grinned at him and began to lean in for a kiss when Roman stopped you.

You looked into his eyes again and you saw this serious demoaner was back.

“I will never let him say anything like what he said tonight to you again, OK? Never. I’ll never let him fucking touch you again,” Roman came to rest his forehead to yours, “I won’t let anyone hurt you ever again. I will keep you safe forever.”

And you believed him. You believed him more than you had ever believed a single person in your life. There wasn’t an ounce of you in that moment that could argue with him. You trusted him fully.

“Ok.” Was all you could say with the emotion that was brewing from his confession, before he finally pulled you to his lips.

It was the first time you realized you loved him.

“All I have ever wanted is to keep you safe.” He said it with the same vigor and sincerity that he had in his original vow to you in his car on the side of the road.

And again, you couldn’t help but believe him.

“I forgive you.” You really did.

He was swathing you with the salve of love and honesty, healing the wounds he carved into your skin with his earnest.

“You were scared, you had just had your life turned upside down… I get it. It’s OK. I’m not blameless either. I said some nasty things.”

Roman looks up from where your hands are connected and gives you a signature fierce stare.

The weight of his gaze on you feels heavy as he leans forward to set his glass on the coffee table. His eyes never leave yours as he does. As he moves back to the couch, he uses his movement to his advantage to seamlessly reach out to cup your jaw, as he settled back next to you, much closer than before.

Goosebumps bit across your flesh as the feeling of his broad palm engulfed your face and his breath began to fan across your lips. Roman was smooth, he was graceful and agile in everything he did. Everything including the set up to a kiss, especially a long awaited and important one.

Roman glides his middle and forefinger up to cradle your ear, to anchor himself to you before using his thumb on the underside of your jaw to tilt your chin. You blood was rushing loudly through your ears and all you could think of was him as Roman’s other arm came to rest across the back of the sofa and ecase you in his arms. He ran his tongue across his bottom lip before he descended for yours.

And you felt euphoric. A warmth in the pit of your stomach that only Roman would kindle.

Roman nuzzled his lips against your mouth, the tip of his nose brushing your own. Your hands migrated to lay purchase on his shoulders as you let Roman pull you impossibly close to his body. You could feel his heated cheeks against your face and you could feel his racing pulse beneath your fingers as he tipped your face up and opened his mouth into the kiss. His tongue dipped past your lips and you accepted him with a soft whimper.

Your sound of pleasure surged Roman on as he began to kiss you harder. Sweeter. Messier. Hotter. Just like he always had.

Soon, you were flat against the couch cushions, Roman above you as his hands explored your body. Your legs bracketed his hips, pushing the heels of your feet against the tops of his thighs to keep him snug against you. Your hands clutched his back tightly, the very same back you had been craving to get your hands on since you walked through the door.

Roman’s lips detached from your own to drift to your cheeks, your jaw and your neck. To bite, to suck and lick with his sinful tongue. You keened and moaned at his attentions, your back arching into him. The spit he left in his wake met the air in a chilling exchange that cooled your fiery skin.

“My baby,” He said to your skin.

“My girl,” He groaned.

“Mine,” He bit the junction of your neck and shoulder.

“Mine, mine, mine,”

You didn’t want to be present while listening to his possessions. You wanted to let them grip you and own you and continue to make your stomach flutter. You didn’t want to have to tell Roman right now that you didn’t know if you could be his again…

“You’re mine, always, always, always,” Roman moaned against you, his voice pornographically seductive.

“Yes, please,” You didn’t know what you were begging for, but you just knew you didn’t want the feeling of Roman to stop.

“It’s me and you, we’re together again, it’ll all be OK now,” He says before giving you another sloppy kiss.

“Be with me, be here. We can make it work.”

Roman goes back to attacking your neck with his petal soft lips, but you were finally snapped from your the haze of pleasure he had accosted you with.

“Roman, hold on,” You pushed your hands on his shoulder, “Stop.”

“What?” He pulled away from you quickly, chest heaving as he looked down at you.

He looked so boyishly innocent. His lips flush from kissing and his once perfect hair askew from your ministrations. Eyes wide and questioning. He was the most beautiful man you had ever seen.

“I,” You took a pause, “I can’t stay here, Roman. I just can’t.”

He looked like you’ve shocked him, stuck his finger in an electrical socket and watched. Roman pushed himself further up, but still hovered over you.

“What do you mean you can’t stay?” He says your words back to you like they were a personal affront.

“I live in New York now, that’s where my life is. I can’t just leave.”

Roman’s jaw flexes and you watch him swallow.

“What? So, this means nothing?” He gestures between your bodies.

“No, of course not. Of course it means something.” You replied hastily.

But, Roman was already getting up off of you and started to pace the length of his kitchen. You pushed up to watch him with concern.

“I don’t know what you want me to do, I said I was sorry and I am. I really, truly am! So, why can’t you just stay with me? Be with me?” He argued.

“I know you are! I do, but just because I know you’re sorry doesn’t change the fact that I have a life somewhere else now, Ro. I can’t just abandon it.”

“Why can’t you? Just come home!” Roman threw his arms up in anger.

“I don’t want to abandon it, Roman. I don’t want to leave. I like it there.” You move yourself onto your knees as you speak.

“Jesus fucking-” Roman looked away from you and tugs at his hair, “I can’t believe you right now!”

“Roman,” You sigh.

“No! You know what? I have been declaring my fucking love for you for the past two days and that just means nothing to you? Because it doesn’t mean nothing to me.”

“It means something-!” You begin, but Roman talks over you.

“And that, that on the couch, that fucking meant something to me! Because you mean something to me, (Y/N). You always have and you always will.” He’s shouting now, if he had any neighbors you’re sure they would be able to hear.

Your eyes filmed with tears as you watch him.

“And fuck, while I’ve been going on like a bitch about how I love you, how I’m devoted to you, and you haven’t said shit! Not a word.” Roman’s eyes are beginning to wet as well.

“Is that what this is? You don’t fucking love me?” His anger cracks as his voice quivers.

“Roman, no!” You spring from where you knelt on the couch and rush to him, “I do, you know I do. I love you! I love you so much I ache.”

You cry freely now as you try to clutch his face, but Roman brushes you off.

“I love you, I have always loved you Roman. I always will. But,”

“But what? How is that not enough!”

“I need you to love me enough to know there is nothing for me here.”

“Not even me?” His lip quivers.

“You know that’s not what I meant,” Your hands shake and so does your breath, “I mean there is not real life for me here. You have The Tower and that’s you life, but what about me? What could I possibly do here that would make me happy?”

Roman says nothing, just swallows a hiccup that threatened to burst from his throat.

“I need you to love me enough to let me leave.”

Roman’s face crumbles into a drastic frown as he fights tears, “I can’t. I can’t do that, not again, I can’t. I can’t let you leave again.”

“Baby,” You choke out.

“No! I can’t, I love you. So, please, just love me enough to stay. I’ll give you everything you could ever want, anything you could ever dream of to make it better here.”

“Roman, I love you. I do, I always will. But, maybe this will be good for us. Have time apart to be our own people. I think it might even be healthy?” You say your last words with a watery smile that Roman doesn’t return.

“I don’t want to have time apart. I had time apart from you and I was fucking miserable.” He states.

The thought of Roman all alone in this house, heartbroken and stewing in pity and anger makes your heart convulse with pain. You thought of all the nights you slept in your dorm room, silent tears streaking your cheeks as you held your hand over your mouth in hopes to not wake your roommate. You wondered if on the nights you cried for him, if Roman had cried for you? Had he cried at all? Or while you were pouring yourself into your studies to forget him, he was fucking whores to forget you?

“Roman, please just… I love you, just please,” Again, you had no idea what you were begging for. For him to let you leave? For him to convince you to stay? All you knew was that this day had been so catosphroticlly emotionally draining and all you wanted was to fall into his arms for comfort.

“Do you want to be apart from me?” He asked bluntly.

“Roman, just-”

“Answer me. Do you want to be apart from me anymore?”

Your mouth was thick with discarded tears and phlegm. All you could do was look at him and hope he understood you. To tell him you didn’t.

His eyes softened and you knew your mental tether was still intact.

Roman takes a step toward you and moves his head to be level with your own, “Then we’ll make this work. I’ll convince NYU to let you take online classes from here, OK? I’ll build them some new buildings - hell! A new campus. I’ll be their new biggest donor, their new favorite fucking person. I’ll give them whatever they want as long as they give me you in return.”

“I can’t ask you to do that, Roman.” You look down at your feet.

“You’re not asking. I’m offering.”

You pierce your teeth into your bottom lip and look back up at him. Back at Roman with his pink, glossy eyes and hopeful gaze.

“I love the city…”

“Then we’ll fly up every weekend, no exceptions. I’ll buy us a loft in the heart of Manhattan.You can design it to your heart’s content. Make it will feel warm and old and us. The opposite of this place.” Roman says quickly like he knew that would be your next rebuttal.

You gasp a sob and close your eyes tight. You feel Roman close the distance between you both and cup your face in his large hands.

“And we will figure the rest out, whatever else is holding you back. We’ll find you your dream job or your passion or whatever you want.”

You crack your pulsing eyes, to see Roman’s face now streaked with tears.

“Just tell me you’ll stay.”

You knew this was a risk. You knew he was a risk. You knew leaving New York and NYU sounded naive and utterly foolish to someone on the outside of your and Roman’s relationship. You knew that you would fight with him, that you would get angry with him, that he’d work too much and that he would have to reschedule trips to the city. You knew you would get irritated with each other and you’d say something snarky and Roman would say something mean. You knew there would be nights you went to bed angry and days where you gave each other the silent treatment. You knew it would be hard. Most things involving Roman were. Expect loving him.

You knew that even with all the bad that came with a relationship with Roman, it was eons better than being without him for a moment longer now that you had him again.

You had wanted to look to the future, to forget the past and forge a new way for yourself. Truthfully, you still did. But maybe you could start over with Roman by your side? Wash away the pain of his indiscretions and learn and grow and heal together? You hoped you could. You hope you weren’t letting your overwhelming love for the man in front of you cloud your judgements.

So, you placed your hands on his neck and watched his face turn hopeful and said:

“Ok.”

i really wish i could say i loved this, but i am really on the fence about if this story is even good at all? it was better in my head. but! i hope you enjoyed it anyway and pllsss if you did, gimme some feedback <3 it makes me happy :-)

#i still have other one shots in the works so hopefully those are better than this!#also prompts will be opening soon (:#roman godfrey #roman godfrey x reader #roman godfrey imagine #roman godfrey imagines #roman godfrey fanfic #roman godfrey fanfiction #roman godfrey x you #hemlock grove fanfic #hemlock grove fanfiction #hemlock grove imagine #hemlock grove imagines #bill skarsgård x reader #bill skarsgård fanfiction #bill skarsgård imagine #bill skarsgard imagine #bill skarsgard x reader #stevesharrlngtonswrites

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