#i got a lot off my chest about this subject & im glad i got around this tbh

[doobledabbadoo]

Is the Mr. Men & Little Miss franchise sexist? - An informal essay by a fan

(tl;dr summary is listed at the end of this post)

A while ago, I was going through my strawpage (which you can find here) to uncover some submissions that were collecting dust over time. While most of them were about how I was doing, or silly headcanons that the Mr. Men and Little Miss characters had, I came across one that I think needed more than a silly and lighthearted response from your's truly:

"Do you think Mr Men and Little miss is Sexist?"

For those who don't know, the Mr. Men and Little Miss franchise is a British children's literature franchise that contains simple, shaped people that embody certain attributes, such as happiness, luckiness, or forgetfulness. The creator of the series is Roger Hargreaves, who created the first Mr. Men book, Mr. Tickle, in 1971. The book series is still being written today by Adam Hargreaves, Roger's son.

Meanwhile, sexism is defined by the prejudice, discrimination, or stereotyping towards a target sex, typically towards women. Because sexism is a more sensitive topic than many people realize, I will do what I can to approach this subject manner in a more sensitive and serious matter.

I will be writing this from my own perspective; as someone who's identity doesn't relate to being either male or female, and as an avid fan who is viewing the franchise from a critical lens for the sake of this essay. Keep in mind that I'm not an expert on sexism or how women should be portrayed in media, so you may take anything I say below with a grain of salt, and I highly encourage you to do your own research on the subject to form your own thoughts and opinions.

If you're looking for my answer, I honestly don't think that the Mr. Men and Little Miss series is sexist. For one, almost all of the relationships between the male characters and female characters are strictly platonic. Even in Little Miss Valentine's book, a character meant to embody a holiday all about love, includes friendship as one of its core themes. The only instance of romance I gathered from actually reading and looking into the books is between Miss Shy and Miss Quiet, and even then I'm pretty sure it's only implied, based on their interactions.

I've seen a lot of people criticize the series for some of its more negative stereotypes towards women, using more malicious characters, like Miss Naughty and Miss Trouble, or more incompetent characters, such as Miss Helpful, Miss Late, or Miss Scatterbrain. I would've agreed if it were the 1980's, where there were significantly less female characters than male characters. However, some people should consider that there's also many malicious male characters, like Mr. Mischief, Mr. Rude, and Mr. Mean, and many incompetent male characters, like Mr. Clumsy, Mr. Forgetful, and Mr. Wrong. Plus, within these past few years, we've had some more positive female characters, like Miss Brave, Miss Inventor, Miss Sparkle, Miss Hug, and Miss Fabulous, so it definitely balances out.

Although, there are a few decisions the franchise makes for its books and series that does make me raise an eyebrow. For example:

I saw another post on tumblr earlier that criticized how infantilizing "Little Miss" sounds, especially in comparison to "Mr. Men". I do agree that this isn't really the best way to label female characters in the series, as I think something such as the "Miss Madams" could've worked just as well. I don't know how much the Mr. Men and Little Miss franchise is willing to rebrand this name. They've renamed a couple of their characters in the past due to offensive terms (Miss Plump to Miss Greedy, and Mr. Uppity to Mr. Snooty), but I'm not sure if they're willing to remove the "Little" in all their female character's names any time soon. Maybe in another world, they could be branded as the "Little Misses and Little Misters" or the "Mr. Men and Miss Madams".

Miss Brainy, who's just simply tired of everyone asking her questions, has her book end with her nearly getting mauled by a lion. To be fair, neither Roger or Adams wrote this, but... What exactly did she do for a lion to appear on her walk before trying to eat her? She could've learned something like how not everyone was as well educated as her, and that she could learn to be more patient with them. At least Mr. Clever, a character known to be obnoxiously smart in his own book, learned to be humble when he couldn't answer subjective questions. The whole lion thing just felt entirely random.

Little Miss Late, at the end of her book, ends up having a more fulfilled life by cooking and staying at home with Mr. Lazy. On one hand, this does enforce some gendered stereotypes from the 1950's, where a woman is supposed to cook and stay inside for the man in the house, and if you know anything about the 50's, well... It wasn't a good decade for women, to put it simply. On the other hand, there are some women who actually don't mind cooking and cleaning for the men in their lives, and if that's what makes Miss Late happy, who am I to judge?

Just some of the treatment that the female characters get in the Mr. Men show. Because the producers of the show wanted to market it towards boys, they cut a bunch of the female characters that were in development, and they even removed a prominent female character in between seasons simply because the executives didn't like her. They've brought in more characters in season 2, more female characters than male, but they don't utilize any of them as they do the cast they had in season 1. I personally would've loved to see Miss Bossy have a shouting match with Mr. Stubborn or Mr. Rude, or even Miss Curious take Mr. Bump's role in the "How do they do it?" segments of season 2!

Even despite these gripes, I honestly don't think that the franchise itself is sexist. It had many different books, shows, music, and even a musical throughout the years, and they were all written, directed, and produced by several different people with different perspectives and biases.

If you're a woman, or fall under the transgender and nonbinary umbrella, and you've engaged in any Mr. Men media, I would also love to hear your thoughts on how the Mr. Men and Little Miss franchise treats its female characters. It's always great to listen to other people's voices who differ from yours, as it provides different perspectives into the conversation.

tl;dr: no, i do not think its a sexist series. i can see why some people would think so, but i personally dont think it is.

[vanillabeams]

nerdy armin prt2!!

christmas special!!!

warning: smut, pet names, sub men, mention of cum, cursing, teasing

surprise at the end!!

prt1

poor armin..buddy was skipping classes just to avoiding you and we all know how important his classes were to him. he was so embarrassed because he knew for fact that you knew he was getting off to your voice.

it’s been 2 days and you haven’t seen armin at all, he hasn’t answered any of your texts and your seriously getting worried because this isn’t like him at all,

it’s been 4 days now and you can’t lie you miss him a lot the way he can’t look you in the eyes properly..or the way he stares at you in class. you squeeze your thighs together releasing the energy that is slowly creeping up on you which made you realize you arrived at the mall to bring him a christmas gift as an excuse to come over to his house. you shop around the mall finding different things you think he would like making him a little basket.

you knock on his front door rethinking this whole plan but your worries gotten the best of you and now your here there’s no going back, armin opens the door shocked that your here “y-y/n??..what are you doing here?” his tall frame clouding over you and it doesn’t help with what he is wearing. he was wearing a black tank top with shorts that hang just above his knees with his black Yeezy slides and a Santa hat on the side of his head to top it off . he stretches his arm resting it on on the very top of the door

omg he is so fineee you can’t even squeeze your legs together right now cause your standing. “y/n?” you look back up at his face seeing him turn red because you were staring too hard and it was noticeable. “christmas gift duhh” you smile wide at him and he looks down at your glossed lips but quickly looks away embarrassed. “you should come in, i know it’s cold” he stretches the door wider for you.

“ im glad you finally let me inside im freezing!” you walked over to his island and place his gift down “ is this a fine place for me to put your gift here?” he turns around from the door to look over where u placed it “ yeah that’s fine, u can come sit on the couch i’ll get u a blanket i know u said u was cold” before u could tell him you weren’t gonna be here long he is already going upstairs to his room to grab one.

once he sees you sitting on his couch he takes in your outfit and it’s so cute to him. he hands you the blanket and sits next to you. but there is an awfully huge space between you guys because he is so nervous around you. you wrap the blanket around you and it smell just like him. “ armin why haven’t you been to school?” he face turns red reminding him of why he actually skipped school “ i-..i just needed a break. i guess” you could tell he was lying “ armin please don’t lie to me.”

u look at him waiting for a response and you don’t even get a answer, he only does this when he isn’t ready to talk about something so you change the subject and get up seeing his red face as u do so, walking over to his gift. once u grab his gift you sit directly next to him legs touching and everything “ look at what i got you” he grabs the gift out of what seem like the smallest hands ever.

“thank you, you didn’t have to do this” he looks at the basket and then looks at you for 1.2 seconds and looks somewhere else “armin!” his head snaps back at you startled by the way you voice rose up at him “ y-yes..? what’s wrong?” you cross your arms over your chest “ i deserve a response on why you left me on ghost” you watch as he bite his bottom lip “c’mon..you know why”

you start to grow an irritated with him “ armin if i knew why you went ghost on me i wouldn’t be here” you’ve never yelled at him before but he went ghost on you and tried to wipe it off “ last phone call we had..” he doesn’t finish his sentence and you instantly remember what happened “ so you were actually getting off to my voice..??” you can’t help but smirk at his reaction. he holds his face in his palms shaking his head yes you then start to graze the nape of his neck with your acrylics “ aw my voice turns you on min?”

“ i don’t wanna talk about it..” he mumbles in his hands embarrassed. you take a good look at his frame again and you realize that he is hard. you can see his bulge slowly rising so you take it upon yourself to get off the couch and squat right between his legs. he doesn’t realize your between his legs intill you place your hands on his thighs. he removes his hands off his face and looks down at you “y/n?” he then realizes his hard wood is literally poking up right in front of your face. “ i’m s-sorry..” is all the words that he manage to say.

you press your hand on to his bulge and he leans back into the couch biting down on his lower lip to hide back the whine that almost slipped from his lips. you start gently rubbing him thru his pants “ if you can’t hold eye contact i’ll stop.” he looks down at you “ please y/n..you know how hard it is for me to-..” a whine slips from his lips once you take his cock out his boxers and it nearly slaps your face. you use both hands to grip onto his girth just to get the feel of it “ does that feel good min?” he nods his head “ imma need words armin.” you start to kiss on his thighs teasing him “y-yes ma’am” his words makes your cunt flutter

you start kissing his tip as u look up at him seeing the teasing is making him go insane, he is squirming so much “ please..! y/n..” you watch him melt into his own couch “ please what love?” you could tell the names that you are calling him are really getting to him “p-please touch me..” he whines underneath his breath. you press your lips onto his cock swirling your tongue around his tip and slowly start sucking not even half his base before gagging. you use your hands to jerk off the rest you can’t fit into your mouth looking up at him to only see him covering his eyes with his forearm and biting his lip so hard to control his moans and whines.

you remove your lips off him pouting. he realizes you stopped and looked down “look at me and stop hiding your moans from me” his breaths are shaky and he swallow his saliva before speaking “ yes ma’am..” you smile up at him “ good boy” his dick twitches and you soon come to the realization that he likes being praised.

you slide your mouth back onto him now forcing half of him into your mouth going up and down on him faster and faster “f-fuck..! y-y/n” he continues to squirm but his squirming is worse now. his voice is so whiny and high pitch and when you look up making eye contact with him, he completely loses it because he knows he has to make eye contact with you because he is so close to coming. he loses it so bad the poor guys starts sobbing “ y/nnn..fuck! i’m cu-“ dude couldn’t even finish his sentence everything went white around him and next thing you know there’s cum all over your pretty face.

“merry Christmas!” was the last thing u said before he fell asleep

(here’s a visual on what he sounded like)

[seeker-ophelia]

Ophelia’s Review, Part Two: Thedas, The Dragon Age System

Some things I need to get off my chest.

One. This does not feel like a Dragon Age game.

Two. That doesn’t mean I didn’t like it.

Three. I have a lot of feelings right now but I’ll come back when my brain has re-hydrated itself.

(I finished Veilguard at 10PM on Monday, and wrote this the morning after. And its still true, 5 days later.)

TLDR at the bottom

[Read Part 1 Here]

I do miss the heady blend of power, intrigue, danger, and sex that permeates these events games.

[Photo Cred: Dumped, Drunk & Dalish]

Because Veilguard is missing all of that.

Listen, it’s good. Great even. I loved it. Cried. Laughed. Dropped my controller and paced around the room for 5 minutes in anger and angst. Drank a bottle of wine in the bathtub after Solavellan’s happy ending (and my Rooks sad one). But this is not a Dragon Age game.

It is Dragon Age ADJACENT. Similar of course. The backbone is there. The direction, the vector, is there. But the execution…

Dragon Age (Origins through Inquisition) for me, was A Song of Ice and Fire. I love that series.

It was deep. It was harsh. It was MEAN. If offered me hope and then snatched it away. The world-building, the lore crafting, was intense and deep and required attention and critical thought. The characters were nuanced and troubled and real.

Veilguard, for me, is Eragon.

I also loved that series. It is pure and good and takes me on a journey through a fantastical land of dragons and heroes, of good versus evil, of mysteries and magic. But, it is juvenile. Its simple. It doesn’t try to be anything other than it is. Veilguard, is shallow.

The essence is there, beneath the surface Veil, pressing and bursting at the seams to escape, but is being held back by a gentrification of Thedas, the Tranquility of the Dragon Age world, if you would.

The Lore

I don’t want to go into to much about it (its going to be its own post, I think), but I love the lore of Dragon Age. I love learning about it. I love the questions, the pervasive theme that history is only as true as the historians who write it; things get lost, muddled, confused through and over time. And Veilguard, kind of feels like I’m being spoonfed? Like I’m a baby.

I think EA did BioWare a disservice by making this game for new players, instead of assuming that RPG players have the intelligence and wherewithal to comprehend at least a little bit of lore and history, or at the very least, introduce a cannon world state. You can have your cake and eat it to, but, as Veilguard shows, it diminishes the quality of the cake as a whole.

This game is an Action RPG. This is a game about combat. For the record, the first, second, third, 17th time I saw my Rook in their Takedown Animation, I said, out loud, ‘Dragon Age, G.O.T.Y.’ I swore at my inability to time dodges properly, I planned and schemed with primers and detonators and damage types. This is very reminiscent of The Witcher and Assassins Creed, for me (I have not played a ton of games, im sure there are others more like it). It was fun, it was challenging. But. This is not Dragon Age. Its Something Else™.

Dragon Age: Dark Origins

When people say Dragon Age is a dark game, they’re not talking about the gameplay, or the graphics, or the art direction.

Dragon Age deals with dark subject matter. Slavery. Racism. Religion. Politics. Power dynamics. Mages versus Templars. Addiction. Death. War. An unstoppable contagion that deals death indiscriminately. THAT’S what makes Dragon Age Dark.

These stories are deep. They’re hard. And yeah, they weren’t always handled properly (lookin’ at you, Gaider), but doing something wrong… looks like it might actually be better than pretending it doesn’t exist.

As a Sollavellan, I’m unspeakably glad they didn’t yassify Solas. He is still an unlikable character who has committed unspeakable war crimes. And we got a redemption arc that did not end in death. That’s a win for me.

But they kept his darkness at the expense of lightening literally EVERYTHING ELSE in Thedas.

What the fuck happened to Zevran’s Crows? I got the Puss-in-Boots-Found-Family Assassin Agency.

Where are the slaves in Minrathous? Where’s the trip to the upper city, gilded and clean, so we can compare it to the slums of Dock Town (which was not bad at all). Where is the “Rescue the Rabbits” Quest? Tevene Politics boils down to Dorian or Mave, “bad” or “good,” change from within, or power to the people.

The whole Qunari are just Bad™ now? The Antaam warriors turned into… what the fuck is even that? You know the advertising theory where women’s bodies are shown but not their heads or faces? This feels like that. Giant Grey Muscular Powerful Bodies with NoFace. THAT’S the Antaam? The Tamassrins really eliminate every embodiment of individuality from them? They’re just Storm Troopers?

And ‘Thal’enaste, what a lost plot thread to not have Lace and Solas meet in the deep roads, or Kal-Sharok, or fucking anywhere. Instead, you give her one little blurb of “companion banter.” Weak.

Where’s the racism towards the Elves? What happened to that? What happened to Dark Thedas? Oh, its actually all in the South, and thats destroyed now (lets put a pin in that for a minute).

The Companions

I have written and re-written this section 3 times. Its too long. I don’t need to mention them all. How to summarize them.

If you read my part 1, you’ll remember how I fell in love with Dragon Age 2, years after its release (after playing Inquisition, in fact), and how I fucking hard I fell for those very real, very troubled, very nuanced characters.

Anders and his quest for freedom, Fenris and his quest for vengeance. Merrill and her quest for knowledge, Isabella and her quest for… other cultures relics, I guess?

I hated the graphics in 2. It was the characters that carried that game. I don’t know how BioWare wrote them, but they failed to do that in VG.

My favourite character in Inquisition? Surprisingly, its not Solas. Its not even Cole, or the Iron Bull, or Dorian.

Its Cassandra.

I love her. Her story is SO complex. Her devotion to the Seekers, to the Andrastian Faith, is so pure, yet it does not impede her friendship with a Dalish elf who believes in gods that she does not. It does not stop her form forming close bonds with other people from different backgrounds, and although she is fearless in calling out the darkness in her own faith, its sins and its rot, she admits to her Herald that she is envious of the Heralds conviction.

Which character in Veilguard has that nuance?

The necromancer afraid of death? The Elvhen Engineer with ADHD? The literal Demon of Vyantium Puss-In-Boots? The smirking detective? The questioning Qunari? Or the gruff monster daddy?

Listen. I read trash. Smut, romantasy... I read objectively bad literature, for fun, all the time. And, I have a fantastic imagination. It is my own personal fleshing out of theses characters that saved me in this game.

But I should not have had to do that.

The Keep

I cannot explain to you, in words, how important those one-off codices and cameos are.

(Don’tThinkAboutIsabela Don’tThinkAboutIsabela Don’tThinkAboutIsabela).

*Grimaces* Okay.

I can speak no more about this. I am already writing a “Keep” DLC for Veilguard.

I would have rather lived in your world state than this abomination. Which leads me to…

‘The Soft Reboot’

So. The South is Gone. That’s the answer. The Hero of Ferelden. Hawke and their siblings. Everything is wiped clean, just as EA asked. All of the South, turned to the Hissings Wastes and the Anderfels, because of the Blight and the hubris of the Gods. What a tragedy. DA5 looks likes its overseas. Cool.

You know what would have been a better reboot?

Spite, taking over Lucanis’ body, walking through the Ossuary, or the catacombs of Minrathous, explaining to Rook how the heavy emotions of People manifest in the fade. The birth of a spirit. Or a demon.

Taash, meeting a spirit face to face in Arlathan, recoiling in disgust, until they help the spirit on its journey, and Taash begins to question their whole worldview surrounding demons. I- I mean spirits.

Emmerich, taking Rook on a lecture-walk through the fade, meeting spirits, solving puzzles, ‘you know, its not so bad in here, what’s the big deal?’

Bellara, instead of discovering Cyrian only to lose him, meets the demon formed of his death, and how to help him back into a spirit.

Neve, following a trail of wisps in the fade, learning things, memories, feelings, songs. Neve, reveling in the pure beauty of the wisps, until they lead her to Vir Dirthara, and her eyes grow wide, what is this place?

Davrin and Assan, after hard training in the High Anderfels, take a break, and while Rook and Davrin flirt, or joke, Assan finds a long string, and begins to play, the string growing and lengthening and thickening until a soft, feminine whisper fills the air, I Am So Sorry… And Rook and Davrin meet a strange spirit, a perfect combination of protection and regret, and they help her find her way home.

Harding, palms flat on the stone, pushing, working, threading her magic into a titan, tilting her face up to Rook, eyes shining blue, speaking in a thousand voices at once, let me show you what was lost, and for a millisecond, we FEEL Isatunoll.

The Dwarvhen was tranquil’d from their Memories, but the Elvhen were tranquil’d from the Fade.

And when Solas turns from Rook in Minrathous, I am sorry for this final betrayal, he is puzzled at the lack of retaliation, and turns to see the Veilguard, standing behind Rook, eyes locked on the giant eye-shaped rift in the sky.

Why are you not stopping me? He asks the group of misfits.

And Rook answers, I can admit when I was wrong. Tear it the fuck down.

And Solas, battered, bruised, and bloody, smiles, brandishes his ritual dagger with a flashy flip, banishes the blight, and tears down the Veil.

When I learned there were only going to be 3 choices carried over from the rest of the series into Veilguard, I tagged my complaint posts with something.

#You Cannot Dangle A Carrot In Front Of Me For 10 Years And Then Not Be Surprised At My Anger In Discovering It Was A Painted Dowel

Let me reiterate. I enjoyed this game. It was fun for me. I’m in the middle of my second playthrough and am planning a third, and a fourth. But this is NOT a Dragon Age game.

This is an EA game. And its good. But it could have been everything.

Bellanaris.

TLDR;

How torn I feel; lobotomized, rendered tranquil, separated from the memories, lore, and spirits, of the old Dragon Age, while still, like the Veilguard, wanting this world to endure.

Var lath vir suledin, BioWare.

For now.

[bingusbongu]

you write for so many characters that I absolutely adore oml.

Could you write some kind of Alastor x new-to-hell reader? (I feel like this would be really interesting :3)

Also since I'm likely gonna be putting in a lot of reqs I'm claiming an Emoji (🖋 <- this one) so you know which anon this is teehee

-🖋

♡A/N: RAAAAAAA HELLO I KNOW YOU GFYFGG im glad you found my blog!!! I also made sure to make this on this specific day for you,,, ♡

Masterlist

Rules

Alastor x New Sinner Reader!

Tw: mentions of death and murder, and of stalking

• okay, the fact you manage to catch the eye of NONE OTHER than the famous and feared Radio Demon is beyond believable

• your new, you must have done something to become his intrest. I dont think he will just pluck you out of the streets as soon as you spawned because he wanted to

• maybe you found yourself in the middle of a turf war or spawned while he and some other demon were in a battle. Maybe you killed another demon on pure accident. And maybe, due to him working with Charlie, maybe he decided not to kill you instantly and offered you the hotel. Since you are new, perhapse you wanted redemption? Hell knows that charlie would be ecstatic to have a new member!

• so, you go with Alastor to the hotel! Meeting an overjoyed Charlie and the rest of the crew!

• though, Alastor kept his eyes on you. Your new, he couldnt have a new member of the hotel accidently step into a war of some sorts and have yourself killed the moment he looks away.

• so, you being as clueless as you are, Alastor reluctantly decided he was going to teach you what to do and not to do in hell! Charlie thought it was a wonderful idea, finding it unbelievable that Alastor was the one to come up with the idea AND go along with it

• so, Alastor would take you out of the hotel and teach you certain things, like how to categorize lower level demons and higher ranking demons, how to protect yourself while walking the street from others who want to harm you

• "no no, you go for the heart, thats the liver"

• after you manage to learn alot from Alastor! Suprisingly, he is quiet a good teacher! But, instead of leaving you to yourself, he would be found occasionally hanging around you

• others would take notice how they always were able to find Alastor wherever you are, and when confronted about it, he would completely shoot down their question and change the subject

• Alastor thought you needed more protection. Though he did teach yoi how to take care of yourself, he still found a need to watch over you, to protect you. A worm of worry that wiggled in his chest when he cant spot you in the hotel.

• Alastor dosnt bring you along to his meetings, to keep his reputation and to protect you from certain eyes. If you are with the Radio Demon, then you have a bigger target on your head

• though, he does sometimes take you to his visits with Rosie!

• she adores you, finding you the cutest little thing. She sure was suprise to find a new sinner with Alastor, and one Alastor was so protective over, but she left it be, finding you precious and telling you stores from her time while sharing tea.

• though, a few of the staff of the hotel were,,, concerned for you. Husk especially. Having the Radio Demon on your back was certainly something new and worrying to him. Maybe he got you under contract, too. When he asked you about it, you shrugged it off and smiled like you hadnt even noticed! It baffled him, and how your mood didnt seem to dim when Alastor came around to check up on you.

• Vox, well, lets just say he may or may not have been the first overlord to actually notice you and your presence with Alastor. He has camaras everywhere, especially hidden outside of the hotel, he dosnt miss anything. So when he realized that the Radio demon was being friendly with a someone new he was not a happy camper

• he ended up confronting Alastor about it during their next meeting. And the way he quickly shut up apon noticing Alastors mood shift when you were mentioned had him traumatized. Velvet had to help him fix his screen after that

• Alastor is quite protective over you, even if you dont realize it, he has one of his little weird minions keeping an eye on you at all times when he isnt there, just to make sure you dont do something stupid.

-EXTRA-

• if you, instead of being a weak newcomer, started making a name for yourself withoit wasting any time, maybe killing off demons left and right or taking down a few overlords, you definitely have his attention

• you remind him of his old new sinner self, so he happily makes his presence known to you, and openly offers to guide you to make a name for yourself like he did

• he would show you how to take down even the most powerful overlords, collect souls to feed your power, and even how to keep your clothes from getting messy after killing so many!

• you are much like his apprentice. Following him wherever he goes and listening to him teach you about something.

• if you become powerful like him, you two become a quick and good duo! Both pf you being feared!

• though, he still makes sure you dont hurt yourself. No matter how powerful you have become, he makes sure you dont slip up and hurt yourself, or let someone hurt you. <3

[egg-emperor]

im soo glad to find another eggman fucker who fantasizes about him farting/burping!!! i always thought it was hot in riders when he did that especially in that outfit hehehrvrhdjdjd

There are people who see the way Eggman is canonically gassy by Sonic's word about his burps and his level 3 attack of farting in Riders as embarrassing jokes, then there's based people like you and me who find it a huge blessing because it's so hot 😍

This part is such a tease, I long for the day we get more examples of his gassiness with his burps too

A big loud man with a big gut who likes to eat a lot like him must be capable of the biggest burps and I can see him being very proud of his big loud deep manly belches hfjfbfkgsbgh please

And the way he will confidently aim his butt at his opponents to fart on them and then asks "how's this?" like HELLO he knows 🥴

He has his other taunt animation where he slaps his ass too. And all while going full leather daddy in his sexy biker outfit

He knows he's either gonna throw you off track from finding it gross or by flustering you so hard you can't pay attention to the race anymore- and he's literally going to dizzy/knock you out with his farts whether you enjoy them or not too 🥰

Usually I'd talk about this on another blog of mine but since you asked and it's a rare chance that someone is actually on the same page with this, I'm gonna be horny here so read more lol

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

He loves being cheeky, rude and gross when people don't like it but when he finds out someone actually likes it so he can show off in his sexy biker fit, distract them with his beautiful plump ass by slapping it, and make them dizzy and lovestruck by his powerful intense farts so he gets what he wants

I've thought a lot about him cornering me after the races and pinning me to the wall by putting his huge ass on me and pushing me back with it or pinning me to the floor and nestling his crack right on my face. Just letting it rip so shamelessly while smothering me with his cheeks

Taunting like "Haha! I won/you lost because of me! Couldn't handle the stench of my powerful farts? Hrrgh- aahh~ Yeahhh you like that, don't ya?" While backing his ass into me so it squishes against and weighs down on me so heavy, pushing out the biggest farts and the stench is so intense it makes me dizzy

And I love thinking about him burping, I wish he'd do it in a game too. I love thinking of him being so rude and bold with his huge belches because it feels good to let it all out and he's proud of how loud and deep and long they are because with all he eats and that huge gut I bet they are 😍

Thumping his chest or shaking and squishing his belly to let them out, belching over people talking to shut them up, belching in people's faces to intimidate or fluster them, always belching up a storm for a while after he's eaten a big meal and/or chugged some soda/beer

I love thinking about cuddling him and rubbing up on his gut and him belching from the rubs around his round belly bloated and firm with lots of gas. And him belching right in my face when I straddle him and rub his fat gut and kiss him and he's like "Oh you like this, don't you? ;)" and enjoys seeing how flustered I get but he just grabs my wrist and places my hand on his belly again to make me continue

I love the thought of him pinning me with his gut and belching right in my face, so confident in being loud and gross and flustering me while teasing me for being so dirty for liking it. The feeling of his big fat heavy belly squished against me and weighing down on me with the pressure pushing out huge burps right into my face while he bullies me sounds like heaven adfsjbfjdgh

Also the thought of him fucking me and all the movement and pressing against me in his thrusting making him release gas from both ends all the while god that'd drive me insane 🤤

I got carried away but gassy Eggman is a subject of some of my biggest fantasies so I'm glad I'm not alone lol

I also talk about it a bit more here but most of my talk of it goes on another blog entirely

[aly-writes]

hi i really enjoyed the dating headcanon that you wrote for aib! can i request for one with arisu and niragi?

arisu is my absolute favorite, im glad to do this for you! my niragi dating headcanons can be found here <3 i just finished sweet home and my heart is absolutely destroyed, so i will happily write for my sweet boy arisu because he is a very big comfort character

warnings: none!

dating arisu headcanons

arisu was never one to be consciously aware of his feelings, especially around you—someone he had long considered a great friend.

arisu and you first met during your last year of high school. he needed help with homework and you happened to be good at the subject, so you set up a time to study.

from there on out, you became really close friends. but we can't forget that he is a bit of a package deal, so if you're going to be friends with him, you're definitely signing up to be friends with karube and chota.

he never really noticed his feelings for you. he had always seen you as just a friend—and that was that.

going into the borderlands with you... that changed things up a bit.

he couldn't help but notice how jittery he got at the thought of you getting hurt during the first game.

it took a really close call for him to genuinely realize how much he cared about you.

chota had tripped in one of the rooms seconds before the flames began to rise, so you took action and started to drag him out. the fire left a nasty burn on your hand and an even nastier burn on chota's leg.

later on that night, arisu helped you wrap up your hand. it was then that he confessed how he felt to you.

arisu always has good intentions. no matter the situation, you can bet that he will be thinking of your best interest.

during the five of spades game, he insisted that you stay behind due to your injury. you refused and fought back, saying that you wanted to watch out for him. he reluctantly let you tag along on one condition.

"please stay close to me."

yeah, it's safe to say your heart melted just a little bit.

he checks in on you a lot. always asking if you're okay, squeezing your hand if he thinks you're acting off, stuff like that. he truly does want you to be at your happiest, and if he can help, he will.

he seeks your comfort after anything bad happens to him.

when the time came for the seven of hearts, an awful stomachache had taken over you, putting you out of commission. you still had days left on your visa, so you told them to leave you behind and to be safe.

your heart shattered into pieces when arisu came back to you with the news of what happened. his sobs were enough to give you your own heartache, so you pulled him into a deep hug and let him cry into the crook of your neck.

he truly does have a lot of stress on his shoulders, and you really help him relieve it. just being in your presence makes his day a lot better.

he tends to get himself into loads of trouble, which is mostly unintentional.

this leads to lots of worrying on your part. you drive yourself crazy worrying about him and his wellbeing.

you couldn't even describe the amount of anxiety him getting caught trying to get into aguni's safe brought you.

you were frantically searching for him left and right during the witch hunt, too panicked to care about your own safety.

when you found him you hugged him tight, crying into his chest with nothing but pure relief.

arisu is the sweetest boyfriend you could ask for.

he's there for practically anything you need.

personal cheerleader? no need to say anything else. emotional support? you don't even have to ask.

i really like to believe that arisu would be big on getting you stuffed animals. he finds them cute—just like you—which is why he thinks they're such a perfect present for you.

and yes—if you ask for chocolate he'll go overboard and get you a lot more sweets than you need.

it's safe to say he is a cuddle bug.

his all time favorite form of affection is hugs. he loves to hug you. having you wrap your arms around his waist or neck and letting him return the gesture makes him feel warm inside.

he switches between big spoon and little spoon. sometimes, he wants to feel like he's protecting you so he holds you against his chest as securely as he can.

other times, he just wants to be held. the piled up tragedy and guilt from losing his two closest friends combined with all of the games really takes a toll on him. please hold him :(

you are both his rock and his safe space.

when he gets into that mindset of wanting to give up, he thinks of you. how the only way he'll see your smile everyday is if he keeps winning the games and fighting.

he gets really emotional around you sometimes. he feels safe around you, which results in him showing you a lot of vulnerability.

even though it's in the past and doesn't matter in the borderlands, he'll talk to you about how frustrating his family is.

he always reminds you that similar to how he talks to you, you need to let him know if anything is bothering you.

overall...

arisu is so incredibly in love with you and would do virtually anything to see you happy.

you're one of the only things he has left in his life, so he's bound to want to protect you.

he's so sweet to you and will always talk things out with you. he'll fix any flaws he thinks he might have for you because he doesn't want to inconvenience you.

he's the cutest ever please give him lots of love<3

[lunaastoir]

Hi! I really enjoy your writing so is it alright if i request xiao, diluc, childe with an idol s/o where one of their old stalkers come back or they just recently had a stalker in general but with how busy they were since they’re an idol they don’t even notice? And something bad happens (i cant think of anything</3) Thank you very much !!

hi anon!! a million apologies since this is so late but i hope you like the fic <3

there also aren’t any explicit details for anything bad happening - i briefly touched on subjects that you may not have control over, i hope that’s ok! 

warning (?): struggled a bit on this prompt so i apologize in advance if this isn’t my best work LMAOO

gn! reader

tw: hints of assault, slight angst, very light abuse if you squint

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

xiao

now xiao is a very observant man but he's also extremely busy keeping liyue safe

he makes it a point to always come to your shows even if you don't actively see him bc he cares a lot abt you and he enjoys listening to your music ‼️

it's normal for him to sometimes get lost between his own world of demonslaying and the world he shares w you

so one night, he's hanging on the rafters of a house with the perfect view of your singing

everything goes smoothly, he sets his spear down while lightly swaying his head to the music

the concert ends and fans disperse after you say your farewells

a night like this is rare since for once, xiao can walk home w you back to the inn sweet boy really cleared out his schedule for you huh

you're unsurprised when you see him materialize next to you, opting to flash him a smile and a hello

his cheeks are lightly flushed as he crosses his arms before talking quietly about how well you did

he relishes in the wide smile you give him as a result of his praise and he lets the corners of his lips curve upwards slightly

the quiet bustle of the harbor seemed to slow down as the night grew longer

since this was a fairly large concert, you had boxes among boxes of equipment so xiao decided to make your life easier by quickly flying them to their appropriate locations

when he got back however, he was surprised to see you talking animatedly with someone

he didn't think anything was wrong until he saw the person trap you between the stage and words filtered into his ears

your back was painfully pressed against the stage wall as you defiantly met their gaze. after xiao had left, they had immediately come over to you: first introducing themselves as a fan and making amiable conversation, before divulging in personal details of your life that made your skin crawl. you weren’t helpless, you always had your weapon on hand regardless of whether you were performing or not. the way they pushed you against the wall however, made it near impossible to summon your sword should you need it. 

they leered down at you while balancing an arm against the wall next to your head. you had dealt with things like this before so you weren’t overly worried; you could defend yourself. you almost felt pity for the person in front of you as they asked for your number with a sadistic grin, disgusting words tumbling off of their lips. however, that was before you felt their cold fingers idly make their way to your stomach and you felt your breath hitch. oh no

the telltale sound of whooshing alerted you of xiao’s presence, and the press of the tip of his spear against their jugular brought you relief. 

“back away” he tightly growled while his golden eyes narrowed into slits. they stared at him in shock before holding their hands up and moving to step a foot away from you. 

“farther” he motioned with his spear before stepping in front of you as you attempted to collect yourself. 

“ok ok, i’m far away can you put your spear down now?” 

“no.” 

you mentally cursed as you watched the two of them glare at each other. this was supposed to be a carefree night but this unfortunate twist made the air thick with tension. you could feel the anger radiate off of xiao in waves and in an effort to deescalate the situation, you spoke. 

“i’m glad to meet such an...avid fan but i’m sorry the two of us must get going now” you hastily said before attempting to grab xiao’s hand and walk off past them. 

the next words had you halt your steps as they divulged their secret. 

words painted in careless arrogance with hints of violet overconfidence flew out of the person’s mouth - “judging from the weeks i’ve been following you, it didn’t seem like you had a boyfriend”

at the mere mention of prolonged stalking, xiao immediately lunged to pull you behind him. god, he didn’t kill mortals but he swore if he plunged his spear into this human being right here, no one would even blink twice considering how low of a person they were. 

“if i ever see you near them again, i will not hesitate to kill you. i won’t blink twice, i already have blood on my hands.” he ground out.

at the threat, the person grudgingly turned their back to you before leaving the two of you alone in the quiet harbor. 

you carefully reached a hand out to touch your boyfriend’s shoulder, but stopped after you saw the expression on his face. the mix of rage, sadness, and anguish imprinted his features as you watched his chest rapidly rise and fall - a result of his emotional battle. 

“i’m sorry i didn’t notice them before. i should’ve been paying more attention to you” he whispered before silently striding away from your grasp 

you knew that no matter how many reassurances you gave him about how, “it’s not your fault xiao, i didn’t notice them either” he would still blame himself. 

he was supposed to protect you right? so why couldn’t he sense the danger beforehand? what would’ve happened if he wasn’t there?

it’s still a learning process for him to realize that things happen, and he inevitably couldn’t be there to save you from everything. he needs time to understand and adjust. you’re willing to wait, patiently helping him through it. why? because love is worth it. 

god im sorry this ended up kinda sad whoops

diluc 

i swear everytime i say i’m a childe simp diluc kinda wrecks me

ahem anyways onto the hc!

he’s kinda never around but similar to xiao he will overwork himself to clear out an hour or two just to watch your concerts 

he’ll always stand off to the side too so if you tilt your head while you’re singing you can spy his red hair 

you always flash him the sweetest smile and this man blushes like CRAZY before quickly lifting his hand up to give you a thumbs up 

everyone watching the both of you like 😍😦

people think it’s the cutest thing i swear like c’mon the elusive “bachelor of mondstadt” being seen in public supporting you??? wow pls can we share him

he walks with you back to the winery, the entire time linking his hands with yours while gushing about your performance 

1939248/10 it’s literally the sweetest thing 

the next day however, adelinde brings you a pink letter addressed to you 

he doesn’t pry because it’s addressed to you and it’s your business but as the letters start coming by everyday, he starts to grow curious 

one day he straight up just asks you about it

“hey, you know those pink letters you keep getting? who are they from?”

you laugh slightly at his bashfulness and respond with a “just some overexcited fan” and he smiles before kissing your forehead 

he loves that people are noticing your talent 

loves it! until you get stalked by the same person who wrote you those letters while you were shopping!

diluc knows something’s wrong when you rush into angel’s share panicked after not returning his usual smile. 

“darling? are you ok?” he asks worriedly before quickly setting down the glass he was cleaning to move towards you. 

the widening of your eyes as you looked behind you at the sounds of someone else entering was all he needed to swiftly step in front of you, blocking their gaze of your face. 

the slightly panicked look in your eyes before you hurriedly whispered, “they’re following me” made diluc glance at them subtly out of the corner of his eye. he watched as they walked over to find a seat next to the bar, seemingly ready to order a drink. he quietly asked if you would like to sit in the room reserved for the employees, away from their prying eyes. your hasty nod was all the confirmation he needed for him to let you access the door behind him. 

the night went by fairly smoothly with kaeya’s usual teasing and venti’s usual begging for alcohol. diluc’s eyes narrowed however, when the person seemed to ask him questions regarding you. things like, “i heard you’re dating y/n... they’re amazing, how long have you been together?” and “do they live with you at dawn winery?” diluc answered these questions as short as he could, trying to convey with his body language that he truly did not want to talk to them. 

everything was going well until he made the mistake of leaving the bar unattended. he had briefly forgotten about your residence in the room behind him as his mind immediately gravitated to breaking up a brawl. when he returned, the half drunk glass of liquor combined with the person’s absence from their seat, caused sparks of worry to light up inside his chest. 

turning to the door, he knocked once. 

“is everything alright in there love?”

the sounds of things rustling about and the occasional muffled voice had him opening the door quickly. he saw you with your arm being held tightly in their grasp, your mouth muffled with their hand, while you strained against them by pulling at your arm. 

diluc immediately made his way over to you, quickly pulling your arm away before letting you enter into his embrace. 

“get out.” the venomous words clawed their way out of his throat as he looked at them with eyes that screamed hatred. his blood was boiling as his mind replayed the scene; your scared expression and their greedy eyes. 

diluc didn’t need to repeat himself twice as they ran out, trying not to trip over crates of wine. he made a mental note to find out who they were in order to make sure they never came near you ever again. 

he quickly looked down at your form, relaxing slightly at the sight of your tentative smile. “my knight in shining armor” you joked before softly nuzzling your head into his shoulder. the anger had yet to dissipate from his veins, and although he knew you were still shaken up, he was sure you would be fine. 

a pink letter placed on the table next to you caught his eye, and he made sure to quickly pocket it as he led you out, gently jesting with you about the “unnecessary amount of wine barrels in here, diluc this is a safety hazard!” 

he would deal with this person later. 

childe

ayo AYO ITS THE TOY SALESMAN

ok tbh he’s very rarely around so he unfortunately cannot make it to all of your shows 

dw tho, he will try his hardest to be there for the ones he’s in town for bc what is he if not your number one hype king??? 

ok kinda creepy! alert 

he’s tasked two of his subordinates to keep watch over you whenever he’s out of the harbor

it’s not anything creepy,,, he just gets extremely worried abt you and wants to make sure you’re safe 

sO when he gets a ransom note??? he’s understandably confused but also very much freaked out 

bc did they not know who he was??? the fact that they thought they could get away with holding you captive was quite honestly kind of funny to him 

very stressed and angry tho - hides it behind a facade of smiles but he’s raging 

takes him only a few hours to track you down bc he had everyone and i mean EVERYONE looking for you 

the note crunched in his hand as the harbinger made his way towards windrise. his pace was erratic, long legs rushing towards the small cave his agents had found. they were bordering the perimeter of the enclosure, careful to not alert you or your captor of their presence. childe’s subordinate head had calmly stated that childe need not come out to rescue you, the situation was under control and they could do it for him. however, childe’s sharp gaze along with his sickly sweet words of “thanks but no. i’m coming out to see this sorry asshole for myself” had the agent backing away apologizing. he wanted to see the look on this person’s face before he shoved their sorry ass into the abyss himself. 

as he reached the opening of the cave, he glanced over his shoulder at his head agent; a silent warning to keep the area sealed. his blue eyes glinted with a thirst for blood before making his way into the cave, sealing off the exit with his body. 

“well well, playing games with the love of my life are we?” 

his teasing words reached your ears as your eyes immediately found the face of your boyfriend. you weren’t horribly scared, just a little shaken up and sore from the bindings on your wrists. relief coursed through your body at the sight of him. you needn’t put in your plan of getting out of these bindings to fight your captor yourself anymore. 

childe’s eyes quickly scanned over your frame, making sure you weren’t hurt. at the state of you completely unharmed, the harbinger let his heart calm down slightly. you were completely ok. 

“wait a little longer, love? i promise this will be over soon”

the wink he sent you had you lightly rolling your eyes at his antics before he directed his attention back to your kidnapper. if your captor wasn’t scared before, they were certainly shaking in their boots now at the sight of childe’s twin hydro blades rotating playfully in his hands. 

“listen, all i want is the money-”

“and all i want is your head” 

your boyfriend smiled after cutting them off. the severity of the situation truly seemed to sink in at that moment before pleas of mercy fell from your captor’s lips, desperate to escape the bloodthirsty gaze of the harbinger. childe’s eyes flickered over to yours where you sat there, with your head ferociously shaking. a silent “no.” he sighed before swiftly bringing his arm up to hit your captor on the head, effectively knocking them out cold. 

his hands worked at the ropes holding you and he gingerly rubbed at your bruised wrists. you silently thanked the archons he could never say no to you. archons forbid what would've happened if you hadn’t said anything. while you were explaining what happened, the young man quickly scooped you up in his arms before walking out of the cave. 

you playfully hit his shoulder while muttering “drama queen” but you stopped when you saw his face morph into an expression of seriousness. you had informed him on the situation about your captor revealing themselves to be a recent stalker of yours, completely oblivious to the look of frustration on his face as he freed you from your bondages. 

“i was scared you know.” he quietly divulged. “i knew that it wasn’t anything extremely serious but i... i was still scared”

you swore as you looked at him in that moment, he had turned ten again. the youth of his face betraying his vulnerability. 

you quietly hummed before tangling your fingers in his hair. “i hope you know it wasn’t your fault. it wasn’t anyone’s fault. not even the two fatui agents who you sent to stalk me while you were away.”

he quietly laughed at that before mentally filing away a reminder for a lecture to those two agents in the near future. 

“i’m just glad you’re safe. i know you can save yourself but i’ll always be here. i still wish you would let me take care of your asshole kidnapper myself though.” he pouted jokingly. 

“i’m sure the millelith will lock them up for a long time.” you laughed sweetly. 

his usual smile reappeared at your antics. maybe he didn’t get to beat your captor up and do...much worse. however at the end of the day, your smile was still intact regardless of what happened. that’s all he wanted. 

[lorelexi]

Some bnha boys brushing your hair (Ft. Todoroki, Bakugou, Shinsou, Mirio, Amajiki, and Iida, separately)

Read the Haikyuu ver. here!!

Warnings: none! Very fluffy

These are really self indulgent so they aren't too inclusive for hair type as I have 2B/2C hair,,, so I apologize in advance 😔

A/N: Some my hero boys brushing your hair. Personally I think this is a really sweet act of intimacy and I think I would cry if anyone ever brushed my hair for me

---

Todoroki

• sweet, sweet boy

• first he has you sit down in front of him, in between his legs and gets to work

• he is so gentle, it makes my heart melt 

• starts at the ends like you taught him and just carefully works his way up, getting out all the tangles and knots without hurting you

• probs whispers really cute things to you while he’s working

• you’re grateful that he can't see your embarrassed expression

• examples include “your hair is so pretty my love, I think it suits you so well”

“Thank you for letting me be close to you like this, I love you.”

• can you hear me squealing?😭😭😭

• when he’s done he kinda just nuzzles his face in your hair and wraps his arms around you from behind🥺💙

• you thank him and he just kisses your temple and tells you that he’s glad to anytime 

• AAAAAAAA

Bakugou

• *shivers*

• even though he’s usually very rough around the edges, obviously he doesn’t want to hurt you so he tries so so hard to be gentle

• he’s gonna have his little slip ups occasionally where he tugs on a knot a little too hard but for the most part he does good

• I like to think that y'all probably do this at the end of a stressful day because it’s a way that you can both wind down and still be with each other and not having to worry about too much talking when you’re both tired

• I think Bakugou uses this as a sort of stress relief as well; he can just sit there and just focus on doing one thing, one brush stroke at a time

•  you make a small noise if he tugs too hard and he mumbles an “i'm sorry” every time and presses a kiss to the area where your jaw meets your ear to make up for it 😖🧡

•  similar to todoroki, when he’s with his job he rests his chin on your shoulder and reaches his arms around you and takes a hold of your hands gently so you can play with his fingers🥺

• he’s not verbal about it but you know that he likes it, so you do it as a lil thank you for his brushing your hair for you 

• i love boys so much what the fuck is up w that

Shinsou

• toshi. toshiiiiiiiiii 😭😭

• i alr know this one is gonna get me in my feels dude

• honestly I feel like he’d shower with you too if that’s something you would feel comfy with

• nothing nasty, just pure, relaxing time that you guys can spend together

• he’ll wash your hair for you!!!

• he’ll even follow your hair routine

• anyways back to the subject at hand,,, my bad

• another gentle boy who wants to make sure you're happy and comfy the whole time,, maybe might give ur scalp a lil massage too???if you want 

• Im telling you guys, it’s like he was made for this or something, he just is able to put you at such ease and it is so comforting and warm💜🥰

• when he’s all done he most DEFINITELY uses a hand to sweep all of your hair to one side, exposing your neck where he places the absolute sweetest kiss 😳

• AAAAAFJBGBGB

• you smile at him with soft eyes and turn to give your good boy a proper kiss for his hard work

• you also return the favor because you know Toshi really loves it when you brush/play with his hair too

• however he’ll lay with his head on your lap so that he can admire you from where he is 

• grr yall are SO CUTE!!!!

• sorry,, sorry,,,, I got so carried away with this one I just rlly love him yk

Mirio

• why are all of these boys literally so sweet!!!!

• ok ok mirio is definitely the one who makes it like a whole event

• he’ll brush your hair (really softly mind you) and then when he’s done he’ll massage your shoulders and neck lightly and he’ll press kisses to your skin occasionally and it’s so warm and delightful

• you might let out a content sigh here and there and he’ll be like “does that feel nice doll?”😭

• when he’s all done he’ll probably do something cute like bring you a nice warm drink and give you a nice big kiss on your forehead 🥺

• “there you are sunshine”

• lots of hugs and cuddles afterward because I just KNOW this man is so good for cuddles

Amajiki

•my soft baby boy 😭

• when you ask him if he can brush your hair for you he's so sweet about it 

• "you want me to brush you hair? If you're sure, then of course, angel"

• he just wants to make sure you're comfy 🥺

• he's probably the most gentle out of all of them

• Softly just combing through, stroke after stroke, working out knots as smooth as he can

• puts his hand behind the brush whenever he gets tangles so that he can take the pressure off your scalp and not hurt you 😭💜

• if he ends up tugging too hard he'll just softly go "sorry baby" 😭😭😭😭😭😭

• when he's done you take his hands and press kisses to them and thank him and he swears his heart is gonna leap out of his chest

• he's so glad to help you in any way possible, baby boy 🥺

Iida

• Iida gives me some really soft vibes actually,,like I think his presence would be pretty comforting actually🥺

• prolly makes tea (or whatever your drink of preference is) for you both before you sit down

• if this is the first time he's brushing your hair for you, he listens very intently when you explain to him what you would like him to do

• asks you questions to make sure he’s doing everything right hehe

• “I just want to make sure I’m doing everything the best way that I can sweetheart.”

• you appreciate his dedication

• Ok ok I read this fluff headcanon by @katsukari that Iida likes to read with you and I think that that is SO perfect

• he sits behind you softly combing through your hair while you read a book out loud

• sits there with the softest smile listening to your voice 😭

• after he’s all done, he’ll kiss the top of your head before taking you into his arms for a big hug AAAA

• this mans would give such nice hugs, I mean come on, have u seen his beefy arms

[kirschteinsj]

Pinky Promises

Nanami x fem! reader

Warnings: nothing too much! maybe language but overall just a bunch of fluff and lovey dovey stuff 

Word Count: 2.9k

Summary: Domestic Nanami and reader, just thinking about how much they love each other. sappy and cute stuff.

A/N: Hi! ^_^ Second time posting, I’ve had this one shot saved for a bit now! finally posting it lolz. I've noticed a lot of people have written domestic Nanami pics or drawn art, very glad society as a whole has this perception of him. it truly heals the soul I think. anyway, I hope u like this and sorry if there’s any grammar errors I wasnt able to catch U_U im thinking of doing a hc post next.... unsure hm, we’ll see ^_^!!

“I’m hooooome.” He says loudly as he steps through the apartment door, setting his briefcase down and taking off his beige coat. Putting down the grand kitchen knife she was using to chop up spinach, she rushed to the door with a smile and engulfed the tall blonde into a tight hug, saying hello. She took a deep breath, inhaling the soft scent of his cologne, the smell of something sour and musty soon taking over. Her face scrunched up and she let out a giggle.

“Oh god, Nanami, you stink, what did you go against today?”

“Nothing too bad. Just a grade 3,” He sighed “A smelly grade 3.” He sounded disappointed, probably because he knew he stunk too. Though the smell was horrendous, she still remained in his arms and he still held on just as tight.

“Are you tired? I was thinking of making dinner with you tonight but if you’re too tired I can-”

“No no. I’m fine. Just let me wash up and I’ll help out.”

“You sure?” She asked looking up towards him, questioning once more to reassure. He looked down and pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her head.

“I’m sure, dear.”

While he showers upstairs, she gets back to readying the ingredients so they could begin cooking their masterpiece as soon as possible. Tonight she had chosen chicken alfredo with a tossed salad; One could say it was her favourite, but saying that would imply that she would eat it when cooked and served by whomever. But to her, she would only eat it when it was him who had made it for her.

Y/n adored him. He adored her. To her, he was her light. She could simply not imagine life without him, not after he had come in and changed her in such a way. She never in a million years would have thought to be so in love with someone. To have known someone who cared enough to hear all about her day or listen to all her tangents, whether they made sense or not. Who listened to her talk forever about anything just so he could see the faint glow of passion in her eyes. Someone who remembered the small details in regards to the things she loved and the things she despised; Like how she hated the feeling of peanut butter on her fingers and how she absolutely admired the scent of fresh pages in a new book. Sometimes, she felt undeserving of him.

He admired her like no other. Never did he believe he’d be capable of opening up to anyone in such a way, at least not until she walked into his life. He could write a million lists, all full of everything he loved about her. The way she smiled cheekily at him after a witty remark, how she'd give every hug as if it was the last, the way she was oh so patient with him. It took him time to become vulnerable in the slightest, he just didn’t know how to do so without burdening her. She knew his job was hard, he’d told her. But rather than running away like he expected, she stayed with him right by his side. She refused to leave him over that. If anything, it made her want to stay more since she felt the need to be there for him. It felt like a punch to the gut but a good one. “So, is this love?” He had asked himself then. Nanami had someone who brought out the much more joyful side to him. At the end of the day, he knew he’d walk through the front door only to see her, arms wide open and with a big smile offering a cozy hug. She was his home. Sometimes, he felt undeserving of her.

Putting the final piece of broccoli into the container, she tidies any clutter and went back to their shared bedroom. Sinking into the bed and falling on it with a plush thump, she lets out a deep sigh mixed with some sort of a groan. She herself was exhausted from work too to say the least. She didn’t deal with curses or anything like that, but she did teach a class of 9 year olds which one could consider just as frustrating. Yawning, she checks her phone to read the time: 6:15 PM. Nanami hadn’t been in the shower for too long, a small nap wouldn’t hurt. Quickly, she settled for a little 30 minute nap. That way, she could get up soon enough to help him out in the kitchen and not abandon him to do everything on his own. She turns her phone off and slowly, her eyes shut.

…

Y/n slowly opens her eyes and notices a grey throw blanket placed on her, something that she doesn’t recall going to bed with earlier. “Must’ve been Nanami.” Grabbing her phone, she turns the screen on, wincing at the incredible blue light piercing into her skull. “Fuck.” she mumbles. Once her eyes adjust, she glances back at the screen for the time: 7:30.

“FUCK,” she says, voice croaking “I overslept.” With the speed of light, she leaves bed and runs down the hall to the bathroom to freshen up. She soon makes her way over to the kitchen silently, slightly ashamed and guilty. Y/n mumbles a whine with a frown, “He’s probably done making things now. I could have helped.”

The kitchen is filled with the delicate scents of sauces, cheese and herbs. She watches him from the door frame, admiring her boyfriend. He stood in front of the stove mixing at the sauce for the alfredo, which scent alone made her mouth water. Nanami seems to be in his own world, as he stands humming to himself softly, stirring the pot of sauce and adding in the broccoli and spinach, not seeming to notice y/n. With a final stir, he carefully sets the lid and turns to rinse his hands. Her gaze sits upon his figure, how his grey oversized shirt slightly clings to his shoulders and loosens as it goes down his body. Looking down, she noticed the bright red christmas pyjamas he had on, the ones with adorable little reindeers all over them. Grinning, she remembers how she had bought those for him. She purchased a matching set for the two of them and insisted on wearing them all day on Christmas last year. Nanami had responded to the idea with a stern “No” which left y/n in shambles. She didn’t expect him to agree, but hey, a girl can dream. However, on Christmas day, lo and behold, she had woken up to find Nanami sitting on the couch, watching the news with his reindeer PJs on. Immediately, she had attacked him with hugs and kisses and all Nanami did was sit there and accept them, secretly loving it the whole time.

A deep voice throws her out of her thoughts. “You know, it’s rude to stare, right?”

Y/n chuckles quietly and makes her way over, wrapping her arms around him from behind, snuggling into his back.

“I like to stare at you, you’re cute,” she breathes in his scent once again, “ah, you smell so much better now. Like the nami I know.”

“I am not cute. I am a grown man.”

“C’mon, you can’t possibly be saying that right now. Not while you’re wearing these pants.” She coos, gently patting his butt. He goes silent, refusing to rebuttal knowing that he’s lost. He leans against the counter, his front facing her. Though he didn’t say anything, y/n sees this as an open invite to his arms. The rope of his arms finds her waist this time, her arms in an embrace around his neck.

“Whatever, tell me, how was your day, hm?” He posed, changing the subject.

“Same old, yenno. The kids and I had a discussion today about drugs and safety. It was cute, hearing them rat out their neighbours for smoking cigs and talk about how yucky they thought alcohol is. It was… sweet. How was work for you, hon?”

“Shit.” He retorts, closing his eyes, “Work is shit.”

“Oh come ON, I’m sure it’s not always that bad, right? Say, how’s your friend doing, you know, the one who kinda looks like one of my makeup brushes! Isn’t he good company?”

“Yeah, if good company means having to deal with a nuisance to society on a daily basis then by all means, yes, Gojo is wonderful company.” He joked, loosening his grip on her and making his way over to the stove to check on his sauce. She follows, opening the first drawer and pulling out a silver spoon, “You’re so mean sometimes. I think he’s a great guy to be around! I met him once, such a flirt.”

He teases calmly, “If you love him so much, why don’t you get with him?”

Taking her spoon, she lowers it into the pot and brings it back up to her face, blowing on it carefully before she puts it to her lips to taste. “Hmm, I would. But I don’t think he’s as big as you. I’ll have to pass.” She smirked, putting the spoon into her mouth as he watched and sighed in disappointment.

He glares,“God, you’re something else.”

“I’m just kidding, babe.” Bringing her spoon down for another taste. He swats at her hand and she retreats it with a whine. “Don’t do that. You’ve tried it already, and will again when we get to eat.” He scolded tenderly, “Plus, you shouldn’t be given these privileges anyway. It’s not like you helped out or anything.” He smiled, teasing her.

“Nanamiiii, I’m sorry,” she whines, half laughing, “I promise, I was going to help! I just got a little bit sleepy and sort of lost track of time…” He turned over to her and lifted her face with a finger under her chin. Laughing, he delicately caresses her cheek, tapping it admirably with a curled finger. The blonde chuckles and looks her in the eyes, “I’m just joking with you, love. I know you’ve been tired lately, I can tell. Why haven’t you been resting?”

Her smile falls and she sighs. Y/n wrapped her arms around his waist and brought him into her, hiding her face into his chest. It was true, she was exhausted but she didn’t deem it to be anything so serious. Work was just heavy this past week from having to grade her students’ work in time for report cards. All she wanted was the best for her kids and was finding ways to get the kids out of their comfort zones enough to do well in class. That reminded her, Nanami also mentioned having a student of his own.

She takes her face out of his chest and glances upwards. “It’s just this week of work, I promise I’ll be back to normal soon. I’ve just been busy with lesson plans and activities, yenno. Anyway, speaking of students, how’s the one you’ve been assigned to?” She posed in a soft tone. Half smiling, he turned around to add the strained pasta to the sauce, scattering it into the pot.

“He’s special. Quite lively. And cheerful. He reminds me of you sometimes,” his voice strains as he stretches to grab the bowl of cooked chicken to finally add into the pot, finishing the meal, “He’s got potential.” Y/n beamed with happiness. Nanami really seemed to like this kid and if he thought you had potential, then it sure as hell meant you had it.

She lets out a squeal, “EEEEEEK!!! That sounds amazing! I’m so happy for you!” Nanami suppressed a laugh and rolled his eyes, “It’s not that-”

“This calls for a drink, don’t you think?” She babbled with excitement, “We should have some wine! Right?”

Grabbing her wrist as she skipped her way over to the bottle, he reminded her, “You have school tomorrow. You always end up having more than needed and struggle to wake up in the morning.” Y/n frowned at his words, to which he noticed and tried to fix, “Tomorrow’s Friday, you can drink plenty tomorrow, hm? I’ll drink with you.”

“Ugh, fine. You’re right. But you have to promise.”

“I promise you ca-”

“No! You have to pinky-promise.” She demanded, pouting as he stuck out her pinky finger.

His heart skips a beat. Was she always this cute? Her angelic eyes stare into his tired ones. Bottom lip poking out, awaiting Nanami’s pinky to interlock with her own. He knew she took pinky-promises very seriously despite her grown age. It was among one of the many petty details that he cherished. Something about this pinky-promise was enough for her to ensure trust onto someone, it made him laugh. Her naivety is what made her so kind hearted, what allowed her to see the best in people. He felt that this naivety is why they’re together to begin with. He didn’t ever think she’d give him a chance. He reminisced of their first few encounters. The way she did her hair back then, the way she dressed, her shy smile and how she’d look at the floor whenever she’d blush. Maybe it was her timid nature that made him fall head over heels for her. Or maybe it was her generosity. Perhaps her beauty. He was unable to simply confine the reasoning for his infatuation with just a few traits. She grew overtime, more comfortable and less shy, she was more confident around him but he knew he could still make her blush so badly that she’d have to hide her face from him. He enjoyed their banter, her company. He felt it was luck. Or maybe it was fate. Who knows. He didn’t want to think so much about it. He wanted to live in the moment, adore her in this present time. In that instance, he felt the strong urge to kiss her. And so he did.

The kiss was short and sweet, yet full of an unfathomable amount of love. It took her aback, she didn’t quite see it coming. She too stood in the present moment, then and there, cherishing the man she loved.

His lips leave hers and he extends the smallest finger on his hand, declaring, “I pinky-promise.” And a ginormous grin washes over her face. In a whisper, she squeals and scoops her arms around his torso, resting her head onto his chest. They stay like this for a while, not too long really, but to them it felt like an eternity being in each other’s affectionate embrace. He goes to speak and she feels the vibrating boom of his voice make his way up from his chest.

“I love you.”

She sighs, “I love you too.”

Turning her head, y/n smoothly gets on her tip toes and clasps her arms around his neck, giving it a tender kiss and attempting to make a trail leading up to his sharp jaw. Catching onto her tactics he laughs, putting his big hand against her face and pushing her back.

“Seriously?” He chuckles, “You couldn’t wait till after dinner? Come on, take out the plates.”

“Wait for what? I was just kissing you! You’re so dramatic, Nami.” She lies, playing innocent. She knew damn well what she was trying to do. She wasn’t going to admit to it though. Taking out the plates and utensils, she readied the table.

…

After dinner and meaningless conversation, the two lovers tidied and headed towards their room. “Do yo wana wah a mohee tomowwow nie?” Y/n proposed from the bathroom as she brushed her teeth. He perks his head up, confused, “Do I want to what?” She spat into the sink and rinsed her mouth, repeating her question.

“I said, do you wanna watch a movie tomorrow night? Like at home? There’s this documentary I saw on Netflix, it looks really good! It’s crime related.”

“That sounds fine with me. Though, that’s only possible if you don’t end up drinking too much. I always have to get you to sleep early when you drink.” He states nonchalantly, nose poked into a thick book. She rolls her eyes and smiles, “I promise I won’t drink all that much.” Shifting his book to the opposing hand, Nanami silently takes his pinky finger and holds it out to y/n. She snickers and reciprocates.

“You’ve now pinky-promised. Don’t break it, y/n.”

“I never do.”

The nightstand lamp illuminates the room with a soft yellow glow. Shadows of objects on the nightstand hang on the walls. Laying in bed on her phone, y/n turns over to Nanami, who was still reading his book. “Nami, come lay next to me, I wanna cuddle. Please?” Her voice faint. He looks down at her and puts his book away immediately. He could use a cuddle too. Bringing himself down, he lays on his back, y/n closing the gap between the two. Their legs intertwine, her arm and head resting on his chest while one of his hands rested on her bum, the other dotingly playing with her hair. Neither of them spoke a word for a while. Until y/n broke the silence.

“So, were there no other pairs of pants you had left to wear or-”

“Please, be quiet.”

[tick-fic-nick]

Lying and thievery

(People: Ranboo, Tubbo, Micheal)

Warnings: tickling, being stuck in clothing

Summary: Ranboos attempt to get back at tubbo embarrassing failed.

this is a platonic pairing

Ranboo was having to deal with his husband's crimes for far too long. Everyday Tubbo would steal a different hoodie or sweatshirt. Maybe that was an exaggeration but he didn't have that many! So it was finally time to do something about it.

So while tubbo was working with the nukes he put his plan into action. He made dinner for him and Micheal and then he took one of tubbos yellow sweaters and put it on. He expected that it would fit as long at he could get it over his head, and then would function as a crop top. He didn't realize that his arms would get trapped by the fabric near his head. Vision covered and arms stuck he realized that tubbo might not be home for hours.

Oh no.

The only person he could turn to was his son. He carefully made his way to the living room, making sure not to run into anything.

"Micheal? You there bud?"

There was a pause before he could hear a child's laughter in front of him. "Hi dada" He found himself smiling too.

"Hey Mikey, do you think you could help me out here?" He felt Micheal hug around his calf and took that as yes. "Ok, im going to sit on the couch, I just need you to help me get the shirt around my elbows and I think I can go from there."

He felt Micheal pull his pant leg toward where he could only assume was the couch. He followed. The couch came to meet him allowing him to sit down.

Micheal hopped up next to him, before walking to Ranboos lap and hugging around his torso. He realized that he probably wouldn't be able to reach where he was actually stuck. "Mikey how far up can you reach?"

He yelped when he felt tiny hoofed digits gently feel around his bare armpits. After the shock, he could feel his breath flutter. His arms wanting to fall but they remained stuck. He became very aware that he was basically shirtless right now.

"Ohokay Mikey... you can puhut your arms downn"

But he didn't, instead he moved around again cause giggles to build inside Ranboos chest, and his shoulders shook with silent laughter.

Micheal let out a gasp. "Dada tickly?"

"M-michehehal!"

The small piglin made a happy squeal and began to poke and tickle the best he knew how. It wasn't a lot and Micheal was still a toddler but it still was very flustering for Ranboo, who couldn't see where the next attack would occur.

His giggles grew and so did his struggles, which only made his situation worse. He could feel himself sliding onto his side but Micheal just followed him.

"Mihihihikehehey plehehehease, toohohohoo tihihickly!"

That got the small piglins attention and he stopped his tiny assault. He climbed ontop of ranboos side and gave him a hug as his dad caught his breath.

"Okahay. Now cahan you help dad?"

"Mmhm"

Micheal made his way to the stuck shirt and after a good few minutes was able to get ranboo free. Once he was out, he stretched his arms and ruffled Micheal hair.

"Did you have fun tickling dada?"

Micheal only giggled as a response bringing his hands to his mouth.

"Well..." He sat up and looked at Micheal with playful eyes "I think it's time for someone else to be tickled"

Micheal squealed and hopped off the couch giggling as he ran away.

"Oh no you don't, get back here!" He playfully chased after him. Picking up his squealing little pig, he gently prodded at his tummy.

He brought him back to the couch and sat him down, turning on the TV.

"I'll be right back"

He walked to the next room and picked up on of his dress shirts to put it on. He rehooked the buttons, and tucked it into his pants. He then heard the front door open and Micheal scream "DADDYY!"

He walked out just to see Micheal get picked up into a hug with Tubbo and held him to his side. "Whats going on Mikey?"

Micheal cupped his hand together and whispered something into his ear. Which made tubbos smile turn evil.

"Well it sounds like you two had fun."

Ranboo felt his face warm, and tried to change the subject. "And your home early, it seems."

Tubbo went along, and walked toward the couch "Yeah, we got a lot progress done and we decided to call it a day."

Once he sat down ranboo leaned over the couch and placed a platonic kiss onto tubbos hair. "Well I'm glad your back home."

That seemed to be the end of it for Ranboo. They watched the rest of the movie, and then put Micheal to bed. It was just Ranboo and Tubbo. They put on another movie to watch. Ranboo sitting up against the arm of the couch, and tubbo whose body was facing his husband's, had his head resting on his chest.

Ranboo was almost falling asleep his head sometimes bobbing in and out of consciousness. Tubbo was occasionally waking him up for a part that was coming up in the movie. Like right now.

"Ranboooo" He whispered

No response

Raaaanbooooo"

"...."

He began to poke gently into his sleeping husband's sides. "Raaanbooo~" The end of ranboos tail began to slowly flick back and forth. And his steady breaths began to hitch. The smallers smile grew as he began to pick up the pace, still keeping it on his sides.

"Mmhmn hm"

"Boo? You gotta wake up. I have some questions for you~" the pokes turned gentle scribbling. He knew this wasn't a killer spot for his husband, but it was enough to wake him. Which it did.

Small giggles bubbled out of the half Ender Hybrid, his tail gently flicking side to side. Squirming slightly his hands came up to face "Tuhuboho! Ihim up im uhuhp!"

"Hello Handsome" His hands came to a stop. "Is this how Micheal got you? You were falling asleep?"

"N-No, uh that was different.."

"Different how?"

"Well..." Ranboo wasn't sure if he wanted to tell tubbo that he got stuck trying to wear one of his sweaters. "Thing is, I forgot." He decided to joke.

"What!? I know that's not how your memory thing works!"

"Nope, it totally works that way."

Tubbo paused as he leaned away from the hug squinting up at his husband "Your a lier. I can't believe I married a scoundrel!"

Tubbos false playful anger always was amusing to him, and he couldn't help himself from chuckling. Lucky for tubbo he couldn't see the mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Oh I'll give you something to laugh about!" He brought his hands up to his husband's ribcage scribbling at the lower ribs.

The taller jumped with a squeak and squirmed. Each touch sent electricity straight through him. "Wahahait wahaahahait ahahhahhhahah!"

"Ranboo do you admit that you lied!"

"Yeehehes! Okahay I lihihihied!"

"I KNEW IT!" He let his fingers explore a little lower to his belly. The giggles increased and so did squeaks. "Well, my beloved. I guess I have to tickle the truth out of you!"

Oh no

"Tuhuhuhbbohohoh! Pleheheheeahahase!" Ranboo hid his face in his hands.

"Please what? Please tickle the truth out of you, why I'd love to" He reached his hand up to an exposed armpit and scratched. That arm shot down to protect the area. "Oh no im trapped! I've got to find my way out!"

"Nohohohhoho GeheET Ohohout ohof thehhehereehe!"

"Oh I'm trying! Believe me!" He was not trying, he was just vibrating his fingers. This spot was always a good way to make Ranboo curl in onto himself. Tubbo got off of him, not letting up his assault. Ranboo curled up until his was laying on his side on the couch with tubbo sitting next to him, facing his back.

"Pleheheheheeheeahahse!"

Tubbo removed his hands, but leaned down to ranboos neck nuzzling it with his nose. He knew this was a melt spot, but it also flustered him quite a bit.

"Ahehehehhehehe tuhuhbooho!"

With one hand he pulled ranboos hands away from his face and the other snaked to the other side of his neck to lightly scratch. His whispered into ranboos ear "I can see l your blush all the way on your ear, it's adorable."

"Nohohhohot adohohorahahable!"

"I think you are~" tubbo removed himself from ranboos neck and began to rub his back and arm soothingly. "I also think your smile is great."

Ranboo brought his hands to his face again and whined. "Why do you like embarrassing me?"

"Because your cute"

After that, there was quite a long pause, where tubbo just kept rubbing his back occasionall yplaying with his hair. Ranboo finally broke the silence "...Hey tubbo?"

"Yes boo?"

Ranboo removed his hands from his face and looked at tubbo "I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"For avoiding the truth."

"Dude it's fine, I knew you were joking. Besides I just wanted the opportunity to tickle you." He spidered his hand for a second across his back to emphasis. Which earned a lopsided smile from Ranboo. "Buuuuut im still curious about what happened."

Ranboo sighed sitting up slightly and told him the whole story. Tubbo laughed "So I missed seeing you stuck in my sweater, by minutes? I should have walked home faster."

"Yeah, well it was one of your smaller ones. I could have fit if I picked out one of your bigger sweaters."

"Uh huh, yeah sure." Tubbo hopped up ignoring look Ranboo was giving him "Come on its time for bed" Ranboo didn't complain, he just let himself be dragged to bed.

And they both slept good that night.

[antihero-writings]

Before it Kills You Too (Ch2 Snippets 1, 2 & 3)

Fandom: Lore Olympus

Chapter Summary: When Hera gets into a car accident after a fight, Zeus has a moment to ruminate on their relationship. Written using the song “Wait” by Maroon 5 as a prompt.

Character Focus: Zeus

Please note!! This is the previous Ch2 snippets I posted + a new snippet (the new snippet starts with “I would venture to guess she was driving too fast.”)

I’ve been having trouble with this chapter for a very long time, so I’ve decided to post it snippet-by-snippet, because that seems like the only way I’ll successfully finish this fic. 

While this should be as close to the final version as it can be, anything in this snippet is subject to change when the full chapter comes out. (And, hey, to that end, if there’s anything you think needs to be edited here, please kindly let me know!!)

Im really excited about this snippet!! Definitely one of my favorite parts of the chapter!!

Thanks again SO much to those who support this fic and want to read more!! The fact that you want to read more really does mean the world to me!! I appreciate your kind comments so much!!

I’d really appreciate it if you could leave a comment and/or reblog!!! I’m not kidding when I say that makes my week!!

Tagging some folks who’ve shown interest!! @jayyy007 @autumnmoon21 @sunsetsofanemoia, @lynnie51 @what-the-fuckaroni @masquejj

And please do let me know if you’d like me to add you to a taglist for this fic, or message you when new snippets/the next chapter come/s out!!

Chapter 2 Snippets 1, 2 & 3:

Hera was standing in the crowded meadow, surrounded by her friends, laughing that girly little giggle full of sunshine that just about made Zeus’ heart ooze in a puddle out of his chest.

Her blue dress made her eyes look like two shimmering sapphires.

“Have I seen her in a dress that color?” Zeus inquired excitedly from behind the bushes.

“How can we know what you’ve seen?” Aidoneus muttered. “With you creeping around, you might have seen her naked for all we know.”

Zeus punched him in the arm, (lightly).

“I don’t think she’s worn a dress that color!” Posiedon bubbled.

“Thank you, Posiedon. At least someone can answer a question.”

“I think she looks like the sea on summer day.” He put his hands on his face, them sliding slowly.

Zeus eyed him. “Alright, keep it in your toga, Little Green Man.”

“Should we really be here?” Aidoneus muttered. “We weren’t invited.”

“Oh come on,” Zeus stood up, putting his hands on his hips. “Who wouldn’t want to see the King of the gods here?”

Poseidon grinned and stood up behind his brother. “No one!”

“Hestia, Demeter… assorted sane people.” Hades muttered as he stood to follow.

“If that’s sanity I’m glad I’m insane.” Zeus trilled as he strutted up to the entrance.

A cute pink nymph—(rather well endowed in the chestal region—not that he noticed!)—greeted them at the archway.

“Oh! Zeus!” She flushed and bowed. “It’s an honor. Welcome!”

“Why it’s an honor to meet you, my lady.” He kissed her hand, and she giggled. “See?” he turned to his brothers. “They’re delighted to have us.”

“I’ve got a bad feeling.” Hades muttered.

Hera was closer now; she smelled like summer, and she looked like it too. Poseidon was right about the ocean thing; she practically shimmered as she spoke with her friends.

“I’m gonna go talk to her.”

“Wait—!” Hades was soon swallowed by the crowd.

Zeus scooched behind her at lightning speed. One by one her friends began to take notice, their eyes widening.

Hera took a step back and would have tripped in surprise if he hadn’t caught her.

“Careful there, you might fall, Birthday Girl.”

“Oh, Zeus!” She looked up at him, the back of her head hitting his chest, “hi!”

That golden smile.

“I made you something!” As she spun to face him, he produced a little carving of a bird from his pocket. (And, no, he didn’t make it).

“Oh!” She pushed a strand of hair behind her ear, gently taking it from him, “It’s beautiful!”

All his responsibilities and stresses melted away with the sight of that smile, and he forgot there was anyone else at the party…in the world.

(…He wished he saw that smile anymore.)

Zeus’ chair was spinning empty at his desk before his assistant could say another word—

And Olympus wept, distant peals of thunder rending the sky into pieces.

Lightning crackled and cackled through his hair, creating violet tracks through the air, as Zeus sped through the sky.

It was freezing, and people were staring, but he didn’t care.

All that mattered was getting to his wife.

“My you look stunning.” Zeus sidled up behind his wife, running his fingers gently along her arm. “Is that a new dress?”

“New as that girlfriend of yours.” Hera grunted.

His eyes widened with shock, his voice with an indignant undertone to it. “Is something wrong?”

She paused a moment. He could see words fluttering behind her lips—(like they did so often, too often)—the words Yes you did something wrong, how can you not know?

He knew she wouldn’t believe him when he said he didn’t mean to hurt her.

“You weren’t invited,” she said softly.

“Not invited? Me?” He put his hand to his chest, like the thought of him ever not being welcome to somewhere was absurd. “To what?”

“The party, you nitwit!” She whirled around, her hair nearly whipping him in the face. “You just came barging in like you owned the place!”

“Well…to be fair—”

He stopped short at the look in her eyes, like two blue-hot flames.

He knew it was taking her a great amount of effort not to slap him.

“Do you know how long I’d been preparing for that?! How long it took me to get everything just right? I told you, but you never even listened, did you? And then you just barged right in!”

“Why are you so upset? What’s so important about a party?!”

“They were my friends.” Her gaze softened, and her tone became more serious. “They were—” Until she cut herself off, and her expression hardened as she whirled around, her hair billowing behind her.

“Bunny, wait!” His tone was softer too.

He wished she’d just turn around. That he could say sorry.

Was it really so hard? He should have started there.

Had he ever apologized for that?

He was always doing that; barging in where he wasn’t welcome. The world was his, yes but…he had to concede there were some parts of it he ought not just barge in on.

When he burst into the hospital, however, they wouldn’t dare tell him he wasn’t invited, wouldn’t dare tell him he couldn’t see her.

“Where. is my. wife?” Lightning slammed into a lamppost just outside the front door, shattering its glass box, and making the light spark, the rain pounding at the window like rabid dogs.

The desk clerk looked like she was about to pee out of sheer fear.

“Sh-sh-she’s not out of surgery yet, your majesty...I understand you want to see her, but I can’t let you…until-until they’re finished.” She was practically vibrating. “I assure you the moment she gets out, we’ll notify you.”

Surgery? He wanted to demand. She’s the queen of the gods, how could she be in surgery?

Electricity sparked in his eyes, trailing throughout his hair. He could say I demand you let me see her. He could say I don’t care! She’s my wife, and I’m not waiting! She’s fine! She’s the queen—she’s my queen—she won’t be hurt from a little car accident!

But there were some places he ought not just barge in on… and the surgeons room was probably one of them.

The lightning let out a sighing crackle, before he closed his eyes, his hair falling back upon his shoulders. It was then that he noticed he was dripping wet from head to toe. He sighed himself before muttering something like a garbled “I understand, thank you.” And turning to sit in the lobby. Behind him the desk clerk’s coworker held her to keep her from fainting.

He snapped his fingers, drying off, so as not to get their nice, barf-colored carpet all wet. Once he sat down in a chair—(the cushions didn’t have any cush to them)—a kid in the chair across from him scooched away.

He could have that kid lightly charred if he wanted.

Instead he settled for a nice glare, and reached over to pick up last month’s—(or maybe it was a few months ago)—issue of  “Goddess weekly” listening to the rain die down to a drum.

The same old gossip. Usually if he picked one of these up he’d check for any news he ought to be aware of. You know, as the king. Not to mention the ladies weren’t unappealing. Now he flicked through without seeing any of it.

Speaking of ladies, there was a nymph sitting across the room from him, her skin blue, her ears down, and a cute little half smile. She surely wasn’t in here for anything serious. She kept glancing from her own magazine to him—but not in a nervous way. If he wasn’t mistaken, she wouldn’t be opposed to a session of hide-the-German-sausage.

If he wanted he could take her there in a darkened closet in the hallway. It wouldn’t take long—(if it didn’t need to…or it could take all night). That would be a nice way to relieve the stress bubbling in his body.

—Someone was laying next to him, her skin smooth, practically glowing. There was rather a lot of it exposed.

She turned over, her eyes fluttering open, a small smile creasing her features as she rolled onto his chest, tickling his chin with her fingers.

“I had a wonderful time,” she twittered, and he practically purred, staring into those big blue eyes, glittering like river stones.

He pushed her green hair behind her ear.

“Is that all? I’d like to think a night with the King of the gods would be more than merely ‘wonderful.’”

She giggled. “No no, it was much more than wonderful! It was spectacular! Mind-blowing!” She threw her arms in the air.

“That’s more like it.” He grinned—

When was that again? Two years ago, or two days ago?

It could have been either.

Had he apologized for that?

Would it have mattered if he had? Would she have forgiven him? Would he have stopped?—

Bile rose in his throat, and he dove his nose so hard into the magazine he almost smacked himself with it.

His wife was bruised and bleeding, and potentially worse in a nearby room, at the mercy of some quack holding a scalpel and a few comforting words…and here he was thinking of betraying her for the…

How many times had it been now?

He threw the magazine back on the table and sank in the chair till his head was nearly on the bottom cushion, his lip flapping his he blew out a breath, making his hair fly up a little.

The kid and his mom got called, and seemed glad of a reason to leave.

After a healthy dose of moping he pulled out his phone. After checking fatesbook and playing a few games he decided it was time to open his messages.

He didn’t want to be alone. He wanted some sensible and non-conjugal company.

He scrolled through and clicked on a name.

A number of old conversations sprinkled the page, often detailing Zeus asking about getting together and the correspondent saying they were busy.

He thought a moment about what to say—(a rare occurrence for him)—before deciding any vague requests would probably get ignored, so he simply decided the boldfaced truth:

Hera’s been in a car accident. She’s in surgery.

“WHAT?!” The word was spoken aloud—and very loudly at that.

Hades was standing in front of him. If the king being here wasn’t enough reason for weird looks, this outburst had sent more than a few eyes their way.

Zeus did a finger wave at the nymph, before he grabbed his brother’s arm, whisking him off to a less crowded hallway.

The only thing here was a vending machine, and a few overly picturesque pictures of trees.

“How did this happen?!”  Hades shout-whispered.

“I would venture to guess she was driving too fast.”

“I could have gathered that myself, thank you very much!” Hades was clearly trying not to shout. “What was she doing?! Where was she going?!”

Zeus rolled folded his arms. “Does it matter?”

“Sure it matters! Well at least it’d be good to know!”

“…I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?! What do you mean you don’t know?! She’s your wife—!”

“I said I don’t know!” he kicked the vending machine.

The air shattered and reformed itself.

Zeus sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, his voice softening. “I…I don’t know.”

Two sides of him warred. One wanted to shout at Hades. He expected him to know where she was at all times? Oh yeah, that would go over well with her. What kind of helicopter husband would he be then?

And yet, it felt wrong for him not to know. Like some sort of failure. She was his wife. Shouldn’t he? Shouldn’t he have asked? Shouldn’t he care?

Hades’ gaze softened.

“I upset her.” Zeus murmured. “We got into a fight.”

Hades leaned against the wall. He was probably resisting the urge to say he could have gathered that too.

Zeus leaned his head forward onto the glass of the vending machine, his hair falling to the side, his reflection vaguely eyeing him.

“We got into a fight and she…I hadn’t even realized she went for a drive.” He paused, observing the chocolate and chips sitting in neat rows in the machine. “Do you think she liked Twyx?”

“Huh?”

“Do you think she liked Twyx?”

Hades pondered it a moment. “Probably. She tends to like things with caramel in them.”

Zeus smiled wryly. “See? I didn’t even know that.”

“I’m sure you’ll be able to ask her all your burning questions about her favorite candy flavors very soon.”

“That’s not the point.” Zeus whispered.

Zeus was feeling a little off-kilter.

He nearly fell into a three-thousand drachma vase.

Okay, make that a lot.

The sound of heels on the staircase. The white one they’d painted for that one event…what had they been celebrating again?

His hazy gaze made her glitter even more than usual.

“Have I ever told you that you’re like the sea on a summer’s day?” Zeus’ voice came out blurry. He put his hand in his hair, trying to look sexy, you know, like the kind of guy you’d wanna forgive.

This was met by her hair slapping him in the face as she walked by him. She paused a few steps below him, turning.

“Is that alcohol I smell on your breath?”

“I may have had one—“ He hiccuped, “or five, appletinis.”

“And this is what? An intelligent conversation you’re trying to have?” She folded her arms over her chest.

“Actually,” he held up a finger. The action made him feel off-balance so he leaned against the railing, trying to land in a sexy pose. “There is something I wanted to say.”

“You’re barely coherent when you’re sober, at least spare me until then.”

He rolled his eyes—(and made himself feel even dizzier).

She turned to go back up the stairs.

“Wait!” He shouted.

She stopped, looked over her shoulder, eyes narrow as a cat’s. “What?”

“I-hic!” He covered his mouth as if embarrassed. Clearly emotion was dangerous. “I wasn’t trying to get wasted! I just-hic!-needed more than three or four to say this.”

“Oh yeah? Spit it out Grape Sorbet.” She folded her arms over her chest.

“I’m…” he held on to the railing for support. “I’m sorry.”

She raised an eyebrow. “I’m listening.”

“You…You were right.” He took a step closer.

“About what?” Her breath bated.

“I just…I didn’t want to admit it. I couldn’t…” He looked away. “I couldn’t tell you sober.”

“About what?” The words had a rough edge to them, her chest heaving with breath.

Ah. She knew. She knew what he was going to say, even before he said it.

“I…I did cheat on you.”

“Wh-What?” Her eyes tinted red…but there was so much hurt in the word.

Fear and shame rose in tandem like ocean waves, threatening to bowl him over, and he realized that the truth wasn’t going to help at all. But all he could do was let it pour out of him.

“You-hic-You asked if I was with-hic—”

“Stop.” She covered her mouth as if to keep the worst words from spilling out, tears welling in her eyes.

“But I—”

“I said stop!” Her voice rang through the room like something shattering.

Maybe something was.

Her heels against the stairs, fast and sharp, and away.

“Wait!”

Turn around please, let me apologize, let me explain, I won’t do it again.

He threw up in the vase.

“Daddy? What was that all about?” The small voice made his blood run cold. “What did you cheat at? Were you playing a game?”

Zeus turned, horrified, to see Ares, hiding behind a crack in the door.

“I shouldn’t have yelled at her.” He breathed. “It was stupid, really.”

Hades put a dollar in the vending machine and punched in a number.

“People say all kinds of things when they’re angry. Doesn’t mean you’re bad, just means you’re people. Which…” Hades looked him up and down, adding under his breath, “I wonder about sometimes.”

“...You must think I’m a terrible husband.”

Hades grabbed two chocolate bars and handed one to his brother.

“I think you need something sweet, maybe a little hydration, and some rest.”

Zeus unwrapped the bar and took a bite, not really tasting anything.

After a moment Hades sighed.

“It’s not so simple as that.” Hades said between bites, “I don’t necessarily think there’s such a thing as a ‘terrible husband’ or ‘the best husband.’ I…I don’t even think there’s such a thing as good and bad people. There’s just…people. There’s just husbands. But there are rules that come with being a person, and/or being a husband and…” he paused, trying to choose his words carefully, “you don’t always follow those rules.”

Zeus fell back against the wall, looking at the floor, denials dying in his throat.

It was raining.

No, actually it was pouring. And thundering. The lightning was like cracks in a collapsing sky, and Zeus’s gut was twisting like the snakes on the head of a gorgon.

“What? You-you think you can just undo this?!” Hera’s words were biting. “It’s done!” Her laugh was wry and sardonic, like an ache in her throat, red tainting the blue of her eyes. “You can’t just fix something like that! Once someone cheats at the game no one else just keeps playing!”

“It was a mistake! One stupid night!”

“One stupid night, huh?! Then how do you explain this?!” She held up his phone. The pictures. The…Oh Gaia.

The snakes in his gut bit down, and he bit his lip looking away. He hadn’t known she knew about that.

“You’ve got it all wrong! That was just—!”

“I thought you were different!” She bit off his excuse, the anger cracked, and the pain was bleeding through, and he wasn’t the only one making it rain: A tear fell down her face, then another, her mascara running black along her cheeks. “You made me smile, you made me laugh! You saved your brothers from your father. And I thought we could make a kingdom—a world��together!” She shook her head, grimacing, trying and failing to keep more tears from falling. “I thought we could be something!”

“We are! We have! I just made a mistake! I—!”

“No, Zeus.” There was a finality to her tone.

Tears streamed down her face now. He hated it when she cried. She didn’t do it often, and whenever she did he was ready to smite whoever hurt her but…he’d hurt her worst of all.

“I thought you were different. But you’re—“ the words were like an antique vase, riddled with cracks. “You’re just another bad guy.” She punched him in the arm, and the vase broke, the defiance into pain. She punched him in the arm…but it was weak and far too soft, and that’s how he knew she was really hurt; she could bring the sky down on him if she wanted.

She looked down at her hand, twisting her wedding ring with a finger.

“I’m staying with a friend tonight.”

Her wedding ring tinkled on the floor.

As she turned and walked away the word rang out like he was hoping his voice alone could rewrite his sins and bring her back:

“Wait!”

She didn’t stop, didn’t turn, didn’t make any indication she’d even heard him.

“Please…Please just wait.” These were soft.

He fell to his knees on the marble, scooping up her wedding ring and enclosing it in his fingers, holding it to his forehead, and trying not to bring the sky down upon himself.

He’d seen her angry. He’d seen her sad. But this? Seeing her break for him…was so much worse.

It reminded him too much of another time. Of a scar on her stomach. How she broke herself just to be his.

—(And he wondered, for a fleeting moment, if it would have been better if he had been the one to break.)—

“There you are!” Said a voice. “You can come see her now,”—a cleared throat— “your Majesty.”

*

Notes: Aright, so this chapter had a few things I was unsure about I thought I’d ask about here!

1. Does anyone have any other clever play-on-words for candy brands? I feel like Zeus would know that she likes caramel in general, so it’d make more sense if Hades said “she likes [X similar candy] so she’d probably like Twyx.��� But Twyx is all my brain came up with and I don’t even know that it’s all that good XD

2. I’m aware that the gods don’t call each other “people” they call each other “beings.” However, Hades’ lines don’t have as much impact with “beings.” Did the fact that I used “people” stick out too much? Should I change it to “beings”?

3. I know Ancient Greek wedding ceremonies are different from ours, and they might not even have wedding rings. But that image was so impactful for me I decided to use it. Should I remove it? Or did you find it impactful?

Please let me know if there’s anything you felt was inaccurate to their characters!!

Thanks so much for reading!! 💕💕

[stevesharrlngtons]

picking out the stitches.

roman godfrey x reader 

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

word count: 14.1k (oopies)

warning: mentions of an abusive father

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

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

Tuna, turkey and swiss, BLT. 

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

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

“(Y/N)?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah? And who told you that?” 

“Destiny.” 

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

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

You roll your eyes at the compliment. 

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

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

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

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

“Enlighten me anyway.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That is usually the deal, yes.” 

“So?”

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

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

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

“Still, he was your dad.” 

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

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

You purse your lips and sigh.

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

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

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

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

“Four forty, even.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Peter belows a raspberry in response. 

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

“I just find that hard to believe.”

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

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

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

“Apologies.”

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, well huge fight is an understatement.” 

“Then what happened?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Not in name or blood.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Off the premise.” Olivia chimed in curtly. 

“Excuse me?” Roman spat. 

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

“This is beyond fucking ridiculous!” 

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

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

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

“Tomorrow would be-” 

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

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

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

“I love you, too.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?” He asked. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Since when?” 

“Since now.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck you.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“With you. Yes.” 

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

“Shee-it.” Peter said, looking sick. 

“Shee-it, indeed.” You nod. 

“So, that was it?” 

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah?” 

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

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

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

“New York that good, then?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Never again.” 

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

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

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

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

“Got it. Thank you, Peter.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And Roman continued to keep it open. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You already have.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“If you don’t mind.” 

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

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

Anything Roman did to you was heaven. 

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

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

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

“Yeah, I heard she was seeing someone.” 

“You know if he’s any good?” 

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

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

He was already looking at you. 

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

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

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

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

“So… how’s NYU?” He prompts. 

“Good. I really like it.” 

“Enjoying your studies?” 

“Very much.” 

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

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

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

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

“Thank you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Not really.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Not really an answer…” he murmurs. 

“Not really your business.” You counter. 

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

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

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

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

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

“Ask you what?” 

“If I’m seeing anyone.” 

“I don’t care, Roman.” 

“Really?” He leans closer to you.

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

“How would you define it?” 

“Different from you.” 

“Oh come on,” He pokes, “Tell me.”

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

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

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

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

Roman doesn’t answer. 

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

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

“(Y/N), I…” 

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

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

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

“I need to apologize to you.”

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

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

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

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

“So it is option C.” You replied. 

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

“Yes, I did. I do.”

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

“I already concluded that.” 

He scoffs.

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

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

“Then why?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Just tell me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Tell me why you hurt me first.” 

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

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

“I’ve got time.” 

“It’s not pretty.” 

“I don’t care.”

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

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

Of the loss.

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

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

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

“You don’t believe me?” 

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

Roman raises his eyebrows in understanding with a slight nod. 

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

“Stop making jokes.” He growled. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“At the time, yes.”

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

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

“Stop, Roman...” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What time is the funeral?” He asked. 

“10 AM.” You replied. 

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

“I’ll be there.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was over. 

Then why were you so sad? 

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

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

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

He’d come. 

Because he cared. 

Because he loved you. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And you loved him for it.

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

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

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

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

“It’s OK. You have time.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What now?” 

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

“Wherever you are.” 

You smile, “Then take me there.” 

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

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

“I like it,” You said, “It’s very…” 

“You hate it.” 

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

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

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

“Yeah?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Vodka cranberry?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Me too.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No, it really isn’t.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You listened to Roman with baited breath. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your father threw a smarmy grin to Olivia.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?” 

“You look very sexy when you’re this mad.” 

You could see Roman’s face visibly relax. You knew he was still angry, but your comment had placated him.     

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” You grinned at him and began to lean in for a kiss when Roman stopped you. 

You looked into his eyes again and you saw this serious demoaner was back. 

“I will never let him say anything like what he said tonight to you again, OK? Never. I’ll never let him fucking touch you again,” Roman came to rest his forehead to yours, “I won’t let anyone hurt you ever again. I will keep you safe forever.” 

And you believed him. You believed him more than you had ever believed a single person in your life. There wasn’t an ounce of you in that moment that could argue with him. You trusted him fully. 

“Ok.” Was all you could say with the emotion that was brewing from his confession, before he finally pulled you to his lips. 

It was the first time you realized you loved him. 

“All I have ever wanted is to keep you safe.” He said it with the same vigor and sincerity that he had in his original vow to you in his car on the side of the road. 

And again, you couldn’t help but believe him. 

“I forgive you.” You really did. 

He was swathing you with the salve of love and honesty, healing the wounds he carved into your skin with his earnest. 

“You were scared, you had just had your life turned upside down… I get it. It’s OK. I’m not blameless either. I said some nasty things.” 

Roman looks up from where your hands are connected and gives you a signature fierce stare.

The weight of his gaze on you feels heavy as he leans forward to set his glass on the coffee table. His eyes never leave yours as he does. As he moves back to the couch, he uses his movement to his advantage to seamlessly reach out to cup your jaw, as he settled back next to you, much closer than before. 

Goosebumps bit across your flesh as the feeling of his broad palm engulfed your face and his breath began to fan across your lips. Roman was smooth, he was graceful and agile in everything he did. Everything including the set up to a kiss, especially a long awaited and important one. 

Roman glides his middle and forefinger up to cradle your ear, to anchor himself to you before using his thumb on the underside of your jaw to tilt your chin. You blood was rushing loudly through your ears and all you could think of was him as Roman’s other arm came to rest across the back of the sofa and ecase you in his arms. He ran his tongue across his bottom lip before he descended for yours. 

And you felt euphoric. A warmth in the pit of your stomach that only Roman would kindle.

Roman nuzzled his lips against your mouth, the tip of his nose brushing your own. Your hands migrated to lay purchase on his shoulders as you let Roman pull you impossibly close to his body. You could feel his heated cheeks against your face and you could feel his racing pulse beneath your fingers as he tipped your face up and opened his mouth into the kiss. His tongue dipped past your lips and you accepted him with a soft whimper. 

Your sound of pleasure surged Roman on as he began to kiss you harder. Sweeter. Messier. Hotter. Just like he always had. 

Soon, you were flat against the couch cushions, Roman above you as his hands explored your body. Your legs bracketed his hips, pushing the heels of your feet against the tops of his thighs to keep him snug against you. Your hands clutched his back tightly, the very same back you had been craving to get your hands on since you walked through the door. 

Roman’s lips detached from your own to drift to your cheeks, your jaw and your neck. To bite, to suck and lick with his sinful tongue. You keened and moaned at his attentions, your back arching into him. The spit he left in his wake met the air in a chilling exchange that cooled your fiery skin. 

“My baby,” He said to your skin. 

“My girl,” He groaned. 

“Mine,” He bit the junction of your neck and shoulder. 

“Mine, mine, mine,” 

You didn’t want to be present while listening to his possessions. You wanted to let them grip you and own you and continue to make your stomach flutter. You didn’t want to have to tell Roman right now that you didn’t know if you could be his again…

“You’re mine, always, always, always,” Roman moaned against you, his voice pornographically seductive. 

“Yes, please,” You didn’t know what you were begging for, but you just knew you didn’t want the feeling of Roman to stop. 

“It’s me and you, we’re together again, it’ll all be OK now,” He says before giving you another sloppy kiss. 

“Be with me, be here. We can make it work.” 

Roman goes back to attacking your neck with his petal soft lips, but you were finally snapped from your the haze of pleasure he had accosted you with. 

“Roman, hold on,” You pushed your hands on his shoulder, “Stop.” 

“What?” He pulled away from you quickly, chest heaving as he looked down at you. 

He looked so boyishly innocent. His lips flush from kissing and his once perfect hair askew from your ministrations. Eyes wide and questioning. He was the most beautiful man you had ever seen. 

“I,” You took a pause, “I can’t stay here, Roman. I just can’t.” 

He looked like you’ve shocked him, stuck his finger in an electrical socket and watched. Roman pushed himself further up, but still hovered over you. 

“What do you mean you can’t stay?” He says your words back to you like they were a personal affront. 

“I live in New York now, that’s where my life is. I can’t just leave.” 

Roman’s jaw flexes and you watch him swallow. 

“What? So, this means nothing?” He gestures between your bodies. 

“No, of course not. Of course it means something.” You replied hastily. 

But, Roman was already getting up off of you and started to pace the length of his kitchen. You pushed up to watch him with concern. 

“I don’t know what you want me to do, I said I was sorry and I am. I really, truly am! So, why can’t you just stay with me? Be with me?” He argued. 

“I know you are! I do, but just because I know you’re sorry doesn’t change the fact that I have a life somewhere else now, Ro. I can’t just abandon it.” 

“Why can’t you? Just come home!” Roman threw his arms up in anger. 

“I don’t want to abandon it, Roman. I don’t want to leave. I like it there.” You move yourself onto your knees as you speak. 

“Jesus fucking-” Roman looked away from you and tugs at his hair, “I can’t believe you right now!” 

“Roman,” You sigh. 

“No! You know what? I have been declaring my fucking love for you for the past two days and that just means nothing to you? Because it doesn’t mean nothing to me.” 

“It means something-!” You begin, but Roman talks over you. 

“And that, that on the couch, that fucking meant something to me! Because you mean something to me, (Y/N). You always have and you always will.” He’s shouting now, if he had any neighbors you’re sure they would be able to hear. 

Your eyes filmed with tears as you watch him. 

“And fuck, while I’ve been going on like a bitch about how I love you, how I’m devoted to you, and you haven’t said shit! Not a word.” Roman’s eyes are beginning to wet as well. 

“Is that what this is? You don’t fucking love me?” His anger cracks as his voice quivers. 

“Roman, no!” You spring from where you knelt on the couch and rush to him, “I do, you know I do. I love you! I love you so much I ache.” 

You cry freely now as you try to clutch his face, but Roman brushes you off. 

“I love you, I have always loved you Roman. I always will. But,” 

“But what? How is that not enough!”

“I need you to love me enough to know there is nothing for me here.”

“Not even me?” His lip quivers. 

“You know that’s not what I meant,” Your hands shake and so does your breath, “I mean there is not real life for me here. You have The Tower and that’s you life, but what about me? What could I possibly do here that would make me happy?”

Roman says nothing, just swallows a hiccup that threatened to burst from his throat.

“I need you to love me enough to let me leave.”

Roman’s face crumbles into a drastic frown as he fights tears, “I can’t. I can’t do that, not again, I can’t. I can’t let you leave again.” 

“Baby,” You choke out. 

“No! I can’t, I love you. So, please, just love me enough to stay. I’ll give you everything you could ever want, anything you could ever dream of to make it better here.”

“Roman, I love you. I do, I always will. But, maybe this will be good for us. Have time apart to be our own people. I think it might even be healthy?” You say your last words with a watery smile that Roman doesn’t return. 

“I don’t want to have time apart. I had time apart from you and I was fucking miserable.” He states. 

The thought of Roman all alone in this house, heartbroken and stewing in pity and anger makes your heart convulse with pain. You thought of all the nights you slept in your dorm room, silent tears streaking your cheeks as you held your hand over your mouth in hopes to not wake your roommate. You wondered if on the nights you cried for him, if Roman had cried for you? Had he cried at all? Or while you were pouring yourself into your studies to forget him, he was fucking whores to forget you?

“Roman, please just… I love you, just please,” Again, you had no idea what you were begging for. For him to let you leave? For him to convince you to stay? All you knew was that this day had been so catosphroticlly emotionally draining and all you wanted was to fall into his arms for comfort.

“Do you want to be apart from me?” He asked bluntly. 

“Roman, just-” 

“Answer me. Do you want to be apart from me anymore?” 

Your mouth was thick with discarded tears and phlegm. All you could do was look at him and hope he understood you. To tell him you didn’t. 

His eyes softened and you knew your mental tether was still intact. 

Roman takes a step toward you and moves his head to be level with your own, “Then we’ll make this work. I’ll convince NYU to let you take online classes from here, OK? I’ll build them some new buildings - hell! A new campus. I’ll be their new biggest donor, their new favorite fucking person. I’ll give them whatever they want as long as they give me you in return.” 

“I can’t ask you to do that, Roman.” You look down at your feet. 

“You’re not asking. I’m offering.” 

You pierce your teeth into your bottom lip and look back up at him. Back at Roman with his pink, glossy eyes and hopeful gaze. 

“I love the city…” 

“Then we’ll fly up every weekend, no exceptions. I’ll buy us a loft in the heart of Manhattan.You can design it to your heart’s content. Make it will feel warm and old and us. The opposite of this place.” Roman says quickly like he knew that would be your next rebuttal. 

You gasp a sob and close your eyes tight. You feel Roman close the distance between you both and cup your face in his large hands. 

“And we will figure the rest out, whatever else is holding you back. We’ll find you your dream job or your passion or whatever you want.” 

You crack your pulsing eyes, to see Roman’s face now streaked with tears. 

“Just tell me you’ll stay.”

You knew this was a risk. You knew he was a risk. You knew leaving New York and NYU sounded naive and utterly foolish to someone on the outside of your and Roman’s relationship. You knew that you would fight with him, that you would get angry with him, that he’d work too much and that he would have to reschedule trips to the city. You knew you would get irritated with each other and you’d say something snarky and Roman would say something mean. You knew there would be nights you went to bed angry and days where you gave each other the silent treatment. You knew it would be hard. Most things involving Roman were. Expect loving him.

You knew that even with all the bad that came with a relationship with Roman, it was eons better than being without him for a moment longer now that you had him again. 

You had wanted to look to the future, to forget the past and forge a new way for yourself. Truthfully, you still did. But maybe you could start over with Roman by your side? Wash away the pain of his indiscretions and learn and grow and heal together? You hoped you could. You hope you weren’t letting your overwhelming love for the man in front of you cloud your judgements. 

So, you placed your hands on his neck and watched his face turn hopeful and said: 

“Ok.”

i really wish i could say i loved this, but i am really on the fence about if this story is even good at all? it was better in my head. but! i hope you enjoyed it anyway and pllsss if you did, gimme some feedback <3 it makes me happy :-)

[izabellq]

Costumes -> Tamaki Amajiki

summary: you accidentally match costumes with tamaki. prepare yourself for a whole day of endless shenanigans.

contains: MAJOR FLUFF, language if you squint (ik canonically, mirio is in 3-B, but for the sake of this plot, the big three are all in 3-A) also, i tried to make this gender-neutral, so if there’s any specified pronouns, let me know and i’ll fix it ASAP!

THIS IS MY HALLOWEEN SPECIAL! (im very much aware i posted this a day late oop)

UA had decided to hold a special event where students could wear their Halloween costume to school. You weren’t planning anything special or unique, just something to get the job done. So, you decided to dress like a cute puppy. It was only a simple onesie: topped with cute floppy dog ears on your hood, and a tail that attached from the bottom. You weren’t expecting to get a lot of attention, which was perfectly fine with you because you were never the type to seek the stage. You topped off the simple look with a black spot on your nose and one around your eye. And just like, you were good to go.

When you walked into school, you couldn’t help but feel a tad bit insecure. It seemed like everyone had decked out for this special occasion. You passed by some anime cosplay, food costumes, group oriented costumes — everything you could possibly think of. And as you made your way to your class, you wondered what Tamaki would be wearing.

You couldn’t help yourself. It was undeniably true that you had a rather large crush on him. Everything about him was enticing. He was so shy that it was usually you who initiated conversation, but that wasn’t enough to make you falter. You understood he wasn’t the most socially active person around. To be frank, it was rather comforting to know that not everyone at UA was a egotistical narcissist.

Finding your assigned seat, you scanned the class. Some of your peers also took the simple route which put some of your thoughts at ease. Others, the more competitive students, were quite impressive themselves.

You turn towards the doorway when Mirio’s booming voice gathers the room’s attention. He was wearing a... whoopie cushion? Oh dear lord. Mirio was a stickler for humor, so of course, he’d wear practically anything that could rise a laugh out of someone. Only, his jokes kind of sucked and no doubt would the class of 3-A be subject to awful fart jokes for the rest of the day. You weren’t so worried about that as you were worried about the two other students usually attached to his hip. One of them being Tamaki Amajiki.

The next one to stop into class was Nejire Hado who was absolutely breathtaking. Her costume, which was nothing more than a fairy, seemed to capture her true personality perfectly. Although, an angel would also be very accurate in her case. She turned towards the entrance way and stuck her head out into the hallway, “Tamaki! Don’t be shy! You look so cute!”

Your heart began to beat just a little bit faster.

“Mirio! Come help me out with him,” Nejire stomped into the hallway, the fluttering of her makeshift wings dissappeared, only to be followed by a laughing Mirio.

When they returned, their hands were clasped over Tamaki’s wrists, forbidding him from turning around and sulking out in the hallway. When you saw him, you’re taken aback. The smallest of gasps erupt from your lips when you notice his costume choice. A onesie, similar to yours, but instead of the dog ears; replaced with cat ones, and a longer tail attached to the back. He had the same minimal face paint (lined whiskers and a nose) as you did, curtesy of Nejire.

When he looked up, his cheeks were flamed with embarrassment. He found your gaze, and if it were possible, he became even more sheepish. You weren’t any different. The thought of having a matching costume with Tamaki, despite not having any prior arrangements, made you equally embarrassed. Now, all you wondered was, did he notice?

Well, if he didn’t before, he sure did now when Nejire spoke up, “Hey Y/N! Oh my– are you a puppy? How cute! Wait! You’re matching with Tamaki! Now you two look like an adorable couple!”

Her excitement, plus her lack of censorship, made the class laugh— everyone’s attention on you and Tamaki. “Nejire...” Tamaki muttered. He stared at the floor, wishing it’d just swallow him whole.

“You guys should take a picture together,” Mirio suggested, walking over to where you sat and giving you a hand. You hesitantly took it, positive that you looked about ready to vomit or pass out. Maybe both. In that order.

Dragged to stand next to Tamaki, you spare him a single glance. He has his left hand up to his face, doing a shoty job at covering his red cheeks. To you, he seemed... more embarrassed than usual? Perhaps he just didn’t wanted to match costumes with you. It saddened you, but it wasn’t like you could do anything about it now.

Nejire laughed, “Say cheese!”

Tamaki mumbled something that you could only assume was in response to Nejire. In a small pickle of confidence, you grabbed his hand and entangled your fingers with his just before the camera went off.

“Cheese!”

That was first period.

When lunch rolled around, Tamaki had face planted himself on the table.

Nejire and Mirio sent each other a knowing look before moving to console him.

“I don’t understand why you’re not happy, Tamaki! You’re matching costumes with them, you got a picture with them, and they also held your hand!” Nejire listed off the things that happened before the bell rang, signaling the start of first period.

“I am happy...” Tamaki muttered, lifting himself up from the table, “But they probably hate me now.”

“I wouldn’t say that!” Mirio added, “Haven’t I told you that they most definitely have a crush on you?”

“No offense Mirio... but I’m not too keen on taking advice from a literal walking whoopie cushion.” Tamaki propped his arm on the table, before leaning his head into the palm of his hand. The same one you had so eagerly held. He wished to repeat the notion a million more times. Only now, he was afraid he had messed up his one and only opportunity.

Mirio gasped, “I’ll have you know that I got many compliments today!”

Nejire giggled before turning back to Tamaki. “Why don’t we just call them over here?”

“I- um, no... I’d rather not do that,” Tamaki rushed out. He wasn’t sure if he could handle another awkward occurrence with you. You’d surely find him weird.

“Where are they anyways?” Mirio asked, not before sinking his teeth on the apple provided on his lunch tray.

“Oh I see them!” Nejire not-so-subtly pointed at you. Tamaki couldn’t help himself as he turned to look in your direction.

You were laughing at something someone had said before adding your own little quip. You were so cute, he thought. Nejire was the one who suggested he wear a cat-themed costume due to the running joke that he was a ‘cute little kitten’. He was prepared to arrive in his normal uniform but Nejire’s persistence was unwavering. And if he knew what you’d be wearing— would he have accepted the costume more easily? You deserved better than him, he knew, but a small part of him fantasized about the ways you’d love him in a way no one else had before.

“Earth to Tamaki,” Nejire sang, snapping him out of his thoughts. “They’re coming over here, straighten up!”

“Hey Y/N, care to sit?” Mirio asked.

Tamaki’s looking down by the time you got there, so he barely registers it when you sit beside him. Your shoulder rubs against his in brief contact and it makes him shudder. He hopes you didn’t notice.

“What’s up guys?” You brought over a juice box from your other table, sipping on the straw of your drink rather intently.

“Tell Tamaki that my costume is funny!” Mirio piped up, distracted from the match-making he was SUPPOSED to be doing.

You nervously giggled, “Well... your costume is certainly an attention-grabber!”

Mirio seemed pleased with that answer, not having considered the fact that you dodged the question the best way you knew how. Tamaki stared at you, adoration etched into his irises. He didn’t realize he had left out a soft laugh until you were staring at him.

He choked up, “Uh- sorry... I didn’t mean to laugh.”

You smiled, a picture definition of the word perfect. Everything about you, he loved. He just loved you in general. “You don’t need to apologize Tamaki! Your laugh is very cute!”

You pinched his cheek before continuing your previous conversation with Mirio and Nejire. Did you even realize what you were doing to him? He hid his face in his arms and rested on the lunch table. Tamaki knew his face was probably several shades of red and pink. He was only wondering how long it would take before you’d actually kill him with your presence.

And that concluded lunch.

The last period of the day came and went uneventfully. And soon enough, class 3A had returned to the dorms, agreeing to remain in their respective costumes until the clock striked midnight. Some students had decided to spend the night on a scary movie binge, while others payed no mind to the event by studying and finishing thier cumulated late assignments.

You on the other hand we’re stuck in the kitchen, preparing some coffee to get you through the night. Mirio and Nejire had wanted to pull an all-nighter as well, which meant you had to figure out a way to not fall alseep before midnight hit. You already had a messed up sleep schedule as it was, so one more added incentive should make the whole evening smooth sailing.

“Y-Y/N?”

You turn towards the kitchen doorway where Tamaki stood, a bit shellshocked from your presence. Still in that cat onesie, you could see his whiskers had become a bit smudged.

You smiled at him, an ache wrapped around your chest became noticeably present to you. “Amajiki! Shouldn’t you be up in Mirio’s room with Nejire? I’ll be up there in a second, I just gotta finish this.”

“Ah, well,” Tamaki moved into the kitchen, fidgeting with his fingers as he talked. “You were taking a while, so they sent me to check up on you. I’m glad you’re o-okay though.”

You hummed in acknowledgment, turning back to the light stirring of the coffee machine. Your fingers uncoordinatedly tapped the kitchen’s counter, a melodic beat strung to match your voice. Tamaki watched with amusement— nothing like the sight of you in your element could make him any happier.

Actually, there was one thing that would be slightly better.

Slowly, he approached you until he had occupied the space beside you. You noticed him almost immediately, but had pretended to take more interest in your coffee than him. Your heart rate picked up, leaving you to mentally curse your inability to remain calm.

“I have a question,” His voice was hushed, a bit unsure of itself. You turned to look at him but his vision remained on the counter.

“What’s up?” When the coffee machine stilled, you pulled your mug out and carefully placed it in front of you. The smell of the roasted beans infiltrated your nostrils and you couldn’t get enough of it.

“Do you- I mean... I think I’m... no that’s not right. I think it’d better if I just show you...” He bit the inside of his lip, whilst finally mustering the courage to look at you. You’re eyes were widened with curiosity, the reflection of the night settling in your skin.

He moves slightly closer, and when you don’t move away, he softly places his hand on your cheek, angling your face so your centimeters away from each other. Tamaki tries to speak, but he honestly didn’t even think he’d get this far. He’s left utterly speechless. Perhaps if Fatgum were here, he’d supply him with the confidence he needed to pull this off. His anxiety-prone thoughts began to take initiative and he starts to pull away, believing to have bit off more than he could chew. He really did believe you deserved better than him.

But your still there. You’ve always been there. In more ways than one. You grip the front of his onesie and pull him back to his previous spot. His hand recupped your face, and you take this opportunity of surprise to place your lips on his. Nothing more than a second long, only the brush of your lips before the tingling sensation had dissappeared all together.

It wasn’t enough. For either of you. You can’t remember who surged forward first, but it couldn’t have mattered less. The only thing that was being even remotely processed was the heat of your frenzied kisses. Tamaki poured all of his emotions into that moment; from the way he felt when seeing you in your puppy onesie to the butterflies that clouded his mind whenever he thought of you.

You were the first to pull back out of breath. You don’t care that your makeup is beyond repair, or that his is either. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you muttered six words into the smooth crevice of his skin, completely forgetting about the coffee you were prepping for yourself. “I love you, I always have.”

Tamaki smiled, though the nervousness hadn’t completely disappeared. “I love you too.” He admitted, feeling his heart flutter at the mutual affection. It wasn’t one-sided after all, not one bit.

Maybe he ought to take more advice from his friend the whoopie cushion.

Then again, maybe not.

“There waiting for us you know,” Your voice was a bit muffled, having been the after-effect of hiding your face in his neck. He understood you perfectly nonetheless.

“They can wait a little longer,” His arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you impossibly closer.

“Kiss me again,” You pleaded.

And so, he did just that.

CHECK OUT MASTERLIST HERE!

[vodkaxtonic]

One Night Dance

Request: can u make another katara x reader fluff plsss, your stories have proven to cheer me up when im feeling kinda down

Of course! I'm glad you like them!

TW: Hurt/Comfort, Fluff

Wordcount: 2K

You didn't know where she came from or who she was, but you knew from the very first minute you laid eyes on her, you were a goner.

The way her bright blue eyes shone with so much confidence and friendliness, the way her body swayed to the music that rang through the cave, and the way she laughed so loudly, her voice sounding like the most angelic thing there was.

It was rare seeing someone like her, so open about her feelings and the happiness she felt right now, in the fire nation. The only thing this country ran on was deep-rooted anger and hatred. It was unusual seeing someone this happy, this carefree.

With a smile, you watched your classmates dancing to the loud drums that echoed through the cave, the new boy from your class dancing with the girl, and they grinned widely at each other as they did. You stood off to the side, not wanting to embarrass yourself in any way in front of the girl you seemed to crush on so quickly.

"What's wrong? Come on!" Before you could say something, Kuzon pulled you by your arm into the crowd, and your face flushed as you bumped into a few people. "I can't dance!" You told him over the music, cheeks, and ears flushed red as your eyes quickly glanced over to the girl standing beside him. "Doesn't matter! Just be free for once!" The boy smiled brightly before spinning away as he left you and the girl alone.

"What's your name?" The girl with the bright blue eyes asked and a kind smile on her face as her body swayed with every beat of the drums, her body seemingly fluid with the rhythm. "Y/N Y/L/N." You answered, a hesitant smile on your face as you slowly followed suit, letting your body move to the sound of the drums. "You're not from here, are you?" You asked with a knowing smile, closer to her ear, and she froze in her movements, eyes wide. "W-what-" She stuttered but waved her off with a smile. "I'll keep your secret." You laughed lightly, and you could see the way her tense shoulders slumped, a breath of relief escaping her mouth. "How'd you know?" The stranger asked, coming closer to you, barely an inch between you as you danced together. "People like you are rare." You shrugged, the song changed, and so did the rhythm of your dancing. "So lively. Carefree." You grinned, looking at her face. Her cheeks flushed a bright pink and her gaze focused on your neck instead with a grin. "What's your name?" Once again, you got a bit closer, your breath hitching as her head snapped up, and you realized just how close you were. Her breath fanned your face as she looked at you, her pupils dilating slightly. "Katara."

That was three months ago, and somehow you couldn't get that girl out of your goddamn head. Her long brown hair, her bright blue eyes, pearly white smile. Katara.

Katara, Kuzon, and whoever was the other guy that looked a lot like Katara vanished. It was like they never existed, and no one spoke of them anymore. Anytime you brought up the subject, your class wouldn't let you say another word. As if you had a fucking hallucination.

You knew what you saw. You saw that girl, her tan skin illuminated by the many firepits in the cave, the necklace around her neck with the blue stone, the light but still visible freckles on her cheeks.

When you saw her again, you hadn't expected it to be under those circumstances.

When the war started yet again, Ozai decided to force the teenagers of the Fire Nation to help the Nation and drew them in as soldiers. It was no fun, especially being Azula's guard. You were one of the best in close combat, and at fire bending, so it was no wonder you got picked to protect the princess.

"Princess!" You called as you ran through the palace. Where the hell did she go? "Fucking royals." You muttered under your breath, your metal suit heavy on you as you jogged through the palace. A bright blue flash made you stop in your tracks, and you ran over to the window, your eyes widening. There were Prince Zuko and a clearly distraught Princess Azula standing across from each other, fire wielding through the air as they attacked each other. An Agni Kai.

Your feet quickly took you outside, and you could see Zuko's back, and Azula's eyes flashed to you, a madman grin on her face. She's lost it. "Attack the filthy water tribe peasant!" Azula yelled, and you managed to jump away from the icicles flying your way, your feet dragging over the ground as you turned to your attacker.

Those fucking blue eyes.

You froze, and Katara took the opportunity to attack you. A groan of agony left your mouth as you flew against one of the columns, heavily breathing as you looked up. With quick movements, you took off your helmet, and Katara's eyes widened. "Y/n?" It was barely a whisper, and you turned quickly to Azula.

It was just a second when you saw her hand reaching up in the air, the other one pointing at her brother, a wicked grin on her face. Her eyes told you what she was about to do, and before you could think, your feet took you over to Katara.

Everything seemed to slow down when Azula pointed her fingers at Katara, the lightning leaving her fingers tips.

A rush of pain ran through your body as you bent the lightning back into the air, your fingers burning from the heat, and your chest tightening in pain as you stared at Azula. Zuko took the opportunity and struck Azula, giving her the last bit to knock her unconscious.

With a groan, your knees buckled, and you fell to the ground. Your fingers burned, the smell of burned flesh entering your nose, and your hand found your way to your chest, gripping it painfully.

You might be an amazing bender, but trying to light bend this quickly and correctly was hard, even for an experienced bender. So it was no wonder that a few of the strayed lighting managed to strike your heart.

With heavy breaths, you fell to the ground, your chest tightening painfully, and you felt incredibly lightheaded as Zuko and Katara stood over you, Zuko's eyes wide in shock and Katara's filled with tears. "Zuko, we need to help them! Please!" Her voice strained as she looked at her friend, and Zuko only nodded before he started taking off your heavy uniform, making it easier for him to carry you away.

"Didn't think we'd reunite like this." It was a breathless chuckle that left your mouth as Zuko heaved you into his arms, Katara right beside him as they jogged through the palace. They needed to find someone to help you, and they didn't care if they had to force them to do it. "Me neither." Katara laughed lightly, wiping away her tears with her fingers, trying to keep up with Zuko's long steps. "I think I'm gonna pass out." You muttered, your vision doubling and getting disoriented as you tried to stay awake. "Don't you dare," Zuko retorted, and finally, he found his way to the medical wing of the palace, eyes of doctors widening at the sight of the banished prince and the water tribe girl. "I-" You pressed out a hiss as you held your chest, your vision getting worse, and before you knew it, a painless abyss engulfed you, and you couldn't help but let it cradle you into sleep.

When your eyes fluttered open, a moan of pain left your mouth. Every muscle in your body sent waves of pain through it, and you felt like death as you let your eyes flutter open, jaw clenched. "Oh my god! They're awake! Let's get the Firelord!" A nurse said, making your eyes widen. Ozai? Ozai would kill you for defending a water tribe girl.

You pulled out the IV and sat up, almost collapsing as you tried to stand up, your hand gripping the bed for dear life. "I need to go." You muttered as you tried to stop your head from spinning, and slowly but surely, you managed to stand up straight.

When you reached the door, you ran into a rock-hard chest, and if it weren't for the person grasping your wrist, you probably would've fallen on your ass. Your hands started to tremble as you saw the robe of the Firelord, not daring to look up. You were going to die, weren't you?

"Y/n?" You almost got whiplash at how fast your head snapped up, once again getting dizzy. "Prince Zuko?" Your eyes widened as you saw the boy in the official Firelord attire, the bun on the top of his head neatly, and a kind smile fell over his face. "Firelord Zuko." He corrected, and you ripped your hand out of his grasp before bowing. "I'm so sorry-" "Calm down, and go sit down before you collapse." He lightheartedly chuckled before he guided you back to bed, and you were glad when you felt the firmness of the mattress beneath you. "You were out for over a week. Missed a lot of stuff." Zuko said, sighing as he took a seat on the chair next to your bed.

"Where's Katara?" Your eyes widened. You only remembered where Azula struck the lighting and that you bent it back towards the sky, and everything after that was a blur. Did she get struck by lightning? "She's been informed. She insisted on staying here until you were doing better, and she's probably on her way."

As if it was on cue, the door slammed open, and Katara stood there, eyes wide and out of breath as she looked at you. "I'll leave you two alone." Zuko smiled as he stood up, Katara running past him, and he closed the door as you got tackled into a hug, a groan escaping your mouth. "Oh my god, sorry!" She squeaked in embarrassment as she pulled away, but you just waved her off, a fond smile on your face. "I thought you wouldn't make it." Only now, you could see the tears glistering in her eyes. A frown covered your face before you nudged her with a smile. "Can't get rid of me that easily."

Katara looked at you, her bright eyes holding words that she couldn't speak just yet, and her smile warm. Your face lightly flushed as you fiddled with your fingers, hissing at the pain pulsing through your body. Your gaze shifted onto your bandaged hand, and you remembered how your fingers got burned. "You know, from the first time I saw you, I was mesmerized." You admitted, your cheeks darkening even more as you chuckled lightly. "You radiated happiness, calmness, and life. It made me feel something I haven't felt in a very long time." You muttered, not being able to stop the words from flowing out of your mouth. "And no matter how hard I tried, there was just no way I could forget those eyes." You looked up, and her cheeks seemed just as flushed as yours.

It was sudden when her lips pressed against yours, oh so hesitant and softly, yet like it was her lifeline. Your eyes fluttered close as you pulled her closer to you by her neck, and she placed one of her knees in between your legs as she leaned against you as softly as she could to not hurt you more than you already were.

You were panting as you pulled apart, the widest and most blinding smile covering her face, her cheeks pink and eyes full of love. "Glad I'm not the only one who felt that way."

If anyone would've told you that you'd marry a water bender from the southern water tribe ten years later and live on the ember islands, and be best friends with the Firelord and the Avatar, you probably would've laughed, but now it was the beautiful reality you dared to call your life.

Who could've known that just one night dancing in a cave together would end up like this?

[hyuniepot]

the butterfly effect. || chapter 6

chapter word count || 5,372

genre || thriller, angst, drama

members || mark lee, na jaemin, lee jeno, huang renjun, lee donghyuck, zhong chenle, park jisung

warnings || mentions of death, implications of depression

pairing || fem!reader x jaemin || slight fem!reader x mark

synopsis || you never thought you’d be able to play with fate so easily, especially not through some shady app. but you suddenly must say goodbye to what you know and hello to a new world where everything seems perfect.

taglist || @gothboyjisung​ @jeongyoonohs @doiewonu @huanginjoon​ @wordsgodeep @colpen

previous chapter

You woke up way later than usual. You were still in the clothes you wore yesterday. You immediately got up and showered, changing into a new pair of clothes.

You woke up way later than usual. You were still in the clothes you wore yesterday. You immediately got up and showered, changing into a new pair of clothes.

You woke up way later than usual. You were still in the clothes you wore yesterday. You immediately got up and showered, changing into a new pair of clothes.

When you were done, you checked your phone.

Mark

hey, when do u wanna hang out?

you can come over here if u want.

or whatever. its fine

oh, you probably aren’t awake yet….

lol. let me know when ur awake.

You smile.

You

hey im awake now

i can come over to ur place, is any time fine?

i just gotta get ready and stuff

You set your phone down and look at yourself in the mirror, continuing to dry your hair. You know you still had to make your final decision on whether you were going to leave or not. Your mind couldn’t make a decision. There were pros and cons to doing both.

If you were to go back, you’d return to a life with no Mark and a Jisung who isn’t happy. But you’d have Hyuck. You’d have Jaemin, and Jeno and Renjun. You’d have your old friends back. You could use what you learned here to fix your life.

But Mark. He was the only thing stopping you. You wanted to take him along with you but you knew it was impossible. You just couldn’t imagine leaving him again when you had spent so long yearning for him to be back.

You jump at the sound of your phone dinging.

Mark

yea, come on over. i’ll be here all day hahah

You

got it. i’ll be there soon

You then clicked on Hyuck’s name to text him.

You

i know this is annoying but please give me the time i need. i’ll let you know tonight what my decision is.

You turned your phone off, grabbing your camera and putting it in your new bag. Jisung was in his room so you gently knock and wait for a response.

Jisung opens the door. “Hey.”

“Hey,” you respond. “I’m gonna go to Mark’s today, are you gonna be okay here alone?”

Your mother’s workload had definitely decreased, but she still worked long hours. You only got to see her in the mornings before school.

Jisung nods. “Yep, that’s fine.”

“Okay.” you exhale. “I’ll see you later, then.”

He nods, and you turn away and head downstairs. You make your way outside and start your journey to Mark’s house. Luckily, you had gone there once since you showed up, so you knew your way.

Everything was still so familiar. Of course it was; this was the town you grew up in after all. And that’s why it was so hard to differentiate from your old life sometimes. Everything still felt right at times.

You were glad Mark didn’t live too far away. You spotted him outside, sitting on one of the concrete stairs that lead to the porch. His face lights up when he spots you, getting up and making his way to you.

“What’s up?” he smiles.

“Nothing,” you reply. “What’s the plan for today?” you both continue making your way to his house.

“I don’t have anything planned, really…” he says, scratching his head. “We just chill for a bit and then figure out something if you want.”

You nod, going up the stairs to his porch. He opens the door, letting you in. You follow him up to his room, suddenly feeling nervous. You hadn’t been alone with Mark like this. You barely even knew how to be around him without feeling awestruck.

He opens the door to his room and it hits you. It was so perfectly… him. It was just what you expected, what you always imagined it would look like. An acoustic guitar stood in the corner of his room, bed haphazardly made. A record player was set up on the left side, the records he owned displayed on a nearby shelf. Posters of all different subjects were taped on the wall, some personal photos mixed in. You spotted one of you and Mark as children, one of the photos you always looked at when you missed him.

It hurt to look at everything. But you had to force your emotions aside.

“Yeah, had to switch up the old room,” he says, putting his hands in his pockets. “I think this looks way cooler.”

You nod. “It looks great.” your voice is barely audible. You couldn’t take your eyes off the photos on the wall.

“Oh,” Mark notices you staring at the wall. He walks to where his bed is, squatting down and pulling a book out from under it. “I found a whole photo album of old photos.” he says. He motions you to come sit down next to him, and you oblige.

He opens it. The first few pages were photos of him as a baby, but it quickly changed to photos of him as a kid. It didn’t take long for you to appear. You had seen them all before, but it was still nice to look at them. There were even pictures from your trip to the butterfly enclosure, an unsure look plastered across your face. Mark was beaming.

“Do you remember this?” Mark puts his finger on an old photo of you and him at a fair — huge grins on both of your faces. He laughs. “We rode a ride and I swore I was gonna get sick after it. You were so freaked out by it that you avoided me until I convinced you I felt better.”

You laugh. You did remember it. You remembered running away from him and staying at least 10 feet away until you finally gave in.

He turns a few pages. It was time to look at photos that you had never seen, stories that you had never heard, the things that could have been. You just tried to keep your breathing steady.

There’s a picture of you and him together in somewhat formal clothing — probably your first highschool dance. Hyuck and another boy you didn’t recognize stood behind you, giving both you and Mark bunny ears.

“You remember Johnny, right?”

That must have been the other boy. You just nodded. Of course, you had no idea who he was.

“He moved here when we were like 12, right?” he looks at the photo. “I miss him. I don’t get to talk to him a lot because he travels so he’s always in a different timezone but… when I do, it’s like he never left.” he adds.

You wrack your brain — did you ever know anyone named Johnny? You were sure you didn’t. He didn’t exist in your old life. But he had somehow been a part of your life in this universe at some point. He was visibly older — not by too much, but he was definitely more mature. It didn’t help that Mark had a baby face. He had brown, medium length hair that was kind of shaggy. He seemed charming. But since there was no sign of him in your phone, you assumed you didn’t keep in touch with him.

Mark flips the pages a few more times. There’s a picture of you, Mark, and Hyuck on what seemed to be your last halloween together. You couldn’t exactly pinpoint when, but you were probably 14 or 15. You were dressed up as Belle from Beauty and the Beast. Hyuck was dressed as the beast and Mark was dressed as Lumière, the candlestick.

You look at the girl in those photos. You wished you had her brain; You wished you remembered everything the way she did. Looking at yourself in the photos didn’t feel right. No matter what you did, you couldn’t convince yourself that it was you. Because technically, it wasn’t. Where was that girl now? Was she living your old life? Spending her days with Jaemin, desperately wishing for Mark?

“Are you okay?” you snap back to reality at the sound of Mark’s voice. He had closed the book and was looking at you with a concerned look on his face.

You let out an awkward chuckle. “Oh… yeah. I’m fine… I just kinda zoned out.”

“Yeah… you’ve been doing that a lot lately…” Mark stands up and slides the book back under his bed. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

You don’t want to reply. Your eyes start burning with tears.

“Yeah,” you reply softly.

“That’s why I wanted to hang out with you today. You’ve seemed so… off lately… No offense,” Mark sits back down and looks at you. “I don’t mean that in a mean way, I just mean… it seems like something is bothering you and… are you crying?”

Tears finally escape your eyes, cascading down your cheeks. You stay silent as Mark wraps his arms around you, tightly hugging you.

“Oh god, oh no… I didn’t mean to make you cry. I’m sorry.” Mark says.

You can’t help but smile as you cry into his chest. “No… it’s not your fault…”

He pulls away from the hug. “Is something actually wrong? You know you can talk to me… I heard bottling up your emotions isn’t healthy…”

You take your time collecting yourself to try and think of an excuse. Obviously you couldn’t tell him the real reason why you seemed so out of it -- oh yeah, Mark, I’m from a universe where you died and I ended up here because I used some app to wish for you back and I have literally no idea what’s going on half the time.

“I’m just stressed,” you tell him. “I’ve never been this stressed so I don’t really know how to deal with it.”

“Ah…” Mark nods. “I get it… I mean, we’re in our last year of school. Everyone’s gonna expect us to act like adults soon. It’s… scary.”

You nod, wiping your tears. I wish that was what I was stressed about.

And that’s when it clicks. You realize you don’t belong here. You were destined to live in a world without Mark. But that thought only makes you start crying again.

Mark hugs you again. “It’s okay,” he whispers. “Just let it out, okay?”

So you do. You let everything out. Your shoulders shake as you sob. To anyone, it would seem like you’re overreacting. Sobbing in your best friend’s arms because you’re stressed. But this was the one thing you felt like could make you feel better.

For years, you laid in your bed alone, sobbing because you missed Mark. Because you felt guilty. And if you weren’t crying over him, you wished he was there to comfort you. And now it finally happened, and you were gonna relish the moment. This was all you ever wanted.

You feel guilty — Mark just wanted to hang out and here you were, making him comfort you as you cried for God knows what.

You force yourself to stop crying. Mark lets you go and levels himself with you, wiping your face with his thumb. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he asks. “We’re best friends… you can tell me anything, y’know?”

You nod. “I know… I just… didn’t want to bother anyone.”

Mark furrows his brows. “Hey come on, don’t say that. You wouldn’t be bothering anyone. Don’t think like that.”

You hiccup. You could feel that your face was puffy from crying.

“Okay,” Mark stands up. “I think this calls for some relaxation, right? I’m gonna get a bunch of blankets and we’re just gonna lounge.” He grabs a spare blanket and wraps it around your shoulders, helping you stand up. He leads you to his basement. There was a large couch and a TV. You sit down.

“Do you wanna watch a movie?” he asks.

You nod. “Yeah, that’s fine.”

Mark turns the TV on. “Okay. I’ll find something for us to watch. Get comfortable, okay?”

You scoot around for a bit before finding a comfortable spot. The crying you did made your eyelids heavy.

Mark joins you on the couch, clicking through the TV guide, searching for something to watch. He clicks on a movie before opening his arms. “Come here.”

Maybe it wasn’t right, but you let him hold you. You listen to his heartbeat, trying to keep yourself awake until you couldn’t fight it anymore.

[4:27 p.m.]

Your eyes flutter open. You glance around, taking in your surroundings and remembering you were in Mark’s basement. You realize you were still in his arms. You quickly sit up, making Mark jolt awake.

“Oh shit,” he says, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. “Did we both fall asleep?” he chuckles.

You smile. “Yeah… looks like it.” You stretch your muscles. “Did you get to watch any of movie?”

“Nope.” Mark replies. “I think I fell asleep right after I realized you had,” he says softly.

You groan. “What time is it? We didn’t sleep through the day, did we?” you ask, suddenly nervous.

Mark pulls out his phone to check the time. He shakes his head. “Nope. Only about two and a half hours.”

You sigh in relief. It was still a long time, but at least it was still daytime. “Oh, good.”

“Do you wanna go get some food? We should probably get up so we don’t fall asleep again,” he laughs.

You smile. “Good idea.”

You both make your way upstairs and you retrieve your bag from Mark’s room before leaving the house. The weather, like yesterday, was nice. A light breeze blew, but it wasn’t cold thanks to the sun. You could hear children playing in a yard nearby. You and Mark made your way to a restaurant nearby. It was one that you didn’t recognize. It was a bit retro-themed and was decorated like a classic diner.

You and Mark sit down at a booth, looking at the menu. “We haven’t been to this place in forever… they got a bunch of new menu items.” Mark mumbles.

You look at the menu. It had all kinds of different types of burgers, but most importantly, milkshakes.

Mark gasped. “They got rid of the cookies ‘n cream milkshake? Are you kidding me?” he whines.

You laugh. “Really? That has to be a popular flavor.”

“Right? It’s so good too, I order it everytime. So why would they — oh, nevermind… they just rebranded it…” Mark says softly, hiding his face with the menu.

Your eyes find their way to the milkshakes; they had simply changed the name of the milkshake from Cookies ‘N Cream to Oreo. You giggle. “Dork.”

“Hey, come on! I was panicked, alright?” Mark laughs.

A waitress swings by and takes your orders — you just order a classic burger and fries with a milkshake with your favorite ice cream flavor.

You feel your phone buzz in your pocket. You pull it out to see who’s calling. It’s Hyuck. “Um,” you swallow hard. “I’m gonna go wash my hands real quick.” you tell Mark.

He nods. “Alright.”

You get up from the booth and quickly walk to the bathroom. You close the door behind you, praying that it was empty. “Hello?”

“God, took you long enough.” Hyuck mutters.

“Why’d you call?” you sigh.

“Because I think we need to actually talk about this… I mean, if you decide to leave, I need to be able to tell you when to send the message.” he replies.

You roll your eyes. “I told you I would let you know later. I’m with Mark right now.”

“Are you serious?”

You pause. It’s deathly quiet. You can feel Hyuck’s anger through the phone. “He wanted to hang out, he asked me last night when he dropped me off… did you really think I’d say no?”

“You should’ve,” he sighs. “You know you’re only making it harder on yourself.”

You knew he was right. “I just… wanted to make some final memories before possibly leaving,” you tell him.

“I… understand.” Hyuck adds quietly. You hear him sigh. “You know this is hard on me too, right? I’m sorry I keep being so pushy but… I just wanna get out of here.”

It’s silent again. For the first time, you realize you never even thought about how Hyuck felt. You knew he missed Mark just as much as you did.

“That’s why I’ve been kinda distancing myself from him. Because the first day we were here, it was hell. All I could think about was that day… it’s all I can think about.” he says. You can barely hear him.

“Hyuck…” you whisper.

“Being here… with him… it’s too much for me to handle. You don’t think I feel the same way? I know this is a universe where we could both be happy with Mark, but something keeps telling me I can’t stay here. Too much has changed. I can’t be comfortable here.” Hyuck’s voice starts trembling. “Which is why I refused to spend any time with Mark. Because he’s the only reason I want to stay. But I miss my old life. I miss my friends. I don’t know what the hell went wrong here, but my life is just so much shittier here. Everything that could’ve gone wrong feels like it went wrong.” he rants.

You feel so much guilt for not taking the time to think about why he’d want to leave. You spent so much time thinking about yourself and Mark because you knew you’d always have Hyuck.

“Not even Mark makes staying worth it.” he spits. You can’t tell if he’s angry or sad; it’s probably both. “We were so stupid for coming here,” he finally chuckles, although you can tell it isn’t from happiness. “We were so fucking stupid.”

“I know,” you reply softly.

“I’m sorry. Call me later, okay?”

He hangs up before you can say anything. You slowly put your phone down and shove it back into your pocket. You want to cry, but you’ve already spent too much time in here. You rush out of the bathroom, and instantly run into someone.

“I’m sorry,” you say, looking up at the person. Your heart almost stops.

“No worries,” Jaemin says, flashing you a polite smile.

Your heart starts pounding. You try to tell yourself to stop staring at him, but this was the first time you’ve seen him since coming here. He doesn’t look too different — hair is darker now but everything is the same. The same eyes you fell in love with. The smile that gave you butterflies in your stomach. He’s dressed in normal clothes, so that meant he was probably eating here alongside you and Mark.

You want to lunge towards him, hugging him so tightly he could never leave you again. But you finally just nodded and forced your legs to walk past him; they had started trembling and you weren’t sure how much longer you could stand there. You were glad Mark’s back was to you. You sat back down at your seat, your hands now trembling

“Everything okay?” Mark asks.

You nod. You clear your throat. “Yeah… uh, sorry I took so long. My mom called while I was in there.”

“Oh, okay.” Mark takes a sip of his milkshake that had been set on the table while you were gone. “You’re not in trouble or anything, right?” he asks, eyes widening.

You smile. “No.”

“Okay, good! I wouldn’t want you to get in trouble for hanging out with me or something…” Mark says.

You stir your milkshake with your straw. You weren’t feeling very hungry anymore, but after the first sip, it was too delicious to stop.

“(y/n)!” you hear a voice calling your name. You turn your head towards the direction it’s coming from.

Naeun walks to your table. “I didn’t even see you here! What’s up?” she smiles.

“Oh… nothing.” you reply, forcing a smile in return. “Me and Mark are just hanging out and we were hungry, so here we are.” you tell her.

“Of course. Partners in crime. Hi, Mark.” Naeun responds. “Jaemin brought me here. Can you believe I’ve never been here before? This place has been up for years and I’ve never had the chance.” she pouts.

“Really?” Mark speaks up. “You gotta try their milkshakes, they’re delicious.” he tells her.

Naeun chuckles. “Will do. What flavor did you get? It looks good.” she asks.

“Oh! Cookies ‘n cream. It’s my favorite.” he replies, smiling.

“That’s a good flavor.” You hear Jaemin before you see him. Why is he talking about ice cream? He can’t even eat dairy. You think.

“How would you know?” Naeun teases, as if she was a mind reader. “You can’t have ice cream.”

Jaemin enters your line of sight, wrapping an arm around Naeun’s shoulders. It feels like a gunshot to your chest. “Well, I’m not supposed to have it. But these milkshakes make all the pain worth it.” he jokes.

Mark laughs. “He’s right though. How’s it going, Jaemin? I haven’t seen you in forever.”

Jaemin grins. “I’m doing good. School has been way harder lately, but…”

“Yeah, I would assume so. I can’t believe you got into that school, no offense…”

Jaemin chuckles. “None taken. I was surprised I got in, too. I just wish they had accepted me earlier so I wouldn’t have had to leave halfway through a school year. But, I come back here and visit almost every weekend, so…”

Watching Mark and Jaemin talk felt weird. You didn’t even know they knew each other. That also answered your question as to why you never saw Jaemin at school. You wonder what school he had been accepted to.

“Oh, how rude of me. Hey, (y/n). How are you?” Jaemin turns his attention to you. “I was gonna talk to you earlier but you ran away from me.” he laughs. “I didn’t even realize it was you until you were gone.”

“Sorry…” you say softly. “Um… I didn’t realize it was you either.”

You can feel Jaemin’s eyes piercing into you. You didn’t want to look at him. You couldn’t.

“Well, I’d love to hang out with you guys, but after we eat I have to drive Jaemin back home… maybe we could all hang out another time? Double dates, maybe?” she says, grinning.

“Date?” Mark asks, furrowing his brows. “I mean… yeah, we can hangout but…” he laughs awkwardly.

“I’m teasing,” she says, glancing at you. “Both of you get so defensive!” she jokes. “Not trying to pressure you guys, but you’d be really cute together.” she presses.

“Okay, Naeun, enough,” Jaemin chuckles. “Mark’s gonna explode if you keep going.”

You look at Mark, whose face was red from embarrassment.

“We’ll see you guys later then,” Naeun says. The couple walk away from your table, Jaemin’s arm still around her. Your throat gets tight.

“Gosh…” Mark giggles. “Sorry. Stuff like that just gets me embarrassed,” he says, shaking his head.

You smile. “It’s okay.”

A waitress comes to the table a few moments later and sets the food you ordered on the table. Your appetite had come back. Seeing the food made you realize how hungry you really were.

Mark takes a bite of his burger. “I swear this place always hits the spot,” he says.

He was right. The food was really good. You were actually kind of mad this restaurant didn’t exist in your universe. It was perfect.

“Are you okay?” Mark asks. It’s so sudden, your first response is to just stare at him with wide eyes.

You swallow your food. “Yeah, why?”

Mark shrugs. “I just wanted to check in. You kinda froze up when Naeun and Jaemin were talking to us.” he says softly.

“Oh…” you set your burger down. “I was feeling kind of awkward because I ran into Jaemin when I left the bathroom. And then I ran away from him,” you laugh.

“Ah,” Mark nods. “I see.”

“Yeah… I’m kind of good at that. Making everything awkward.” you chuckle.

“Oh, shush.” Mark laughs. “Have you ever met me?”

You giggle. “Okay, well… if you’re the most awkward person on the planet, then I’m the close second.” you tell him.

“And that’s why we make such a good pair.” he replies.

Why did you feel so guilty every time you remembered how much you loved Jaemin?

You both finished your meals; Mark, of course, offered to pay for everything. Then you both left the restaurant. The sun was beginning to set.

“Ooh, wait,” you tell Mark, pulling your camera from your bag. He stops to look at you. “Let me take a picture of you here,” you say, pointing to one of the neon signs in the window.

Mark gets in front of it and poses, and you snap the photo. You both watch as it develops. “Perfect.” you show it to Mark.

You decide to head back to Mark’s house to hang out for a few more hours. As the sun set, the city was becoming less crowded. You passed children riding their bikes back home, people arriving home from work. Everything felt so normal, once again.

“Hey,” Mark says as you reach his room. “Check this out.” he grabs his guitar. “I finally learned how to play this song,”

“Hmm?” you lounge on his bed. “What song?”

He strums his guitar. You could already tell how good he had gotten at it; you only got the chance to hear him play twice before he died.

You recognize the song instantly — I’m Yours by Jason Mraz. It brings a smile to your face. Mark sings along softly. You realize his singing voice has gotten better as well.

You listen to him sing and shift to your side, propping yourself up with your elbow and resting your head on your hand. He’s completely immersed in the music. He looks so happy. You slowly retrieve your bag and take a photo of him.

He stops. “Oh… sorry. I kinda got preoccupied there,” he laughs.

“No, it’s okay…” you reply, feeling guilty for pulling him out of his music-induced-daze. “I was enjoying it.”

“Really?” Mark taps the strings of his guitar. “Well… I’ll finish the song then.” he continues strumming, taking a few moments to find where he left off.

You watch him, a soft smile on your face. This was a moment you definitely wanted to savor. If you were going to forget your time here, you at least wanted to remember this. It was beautiful. It was Mark.

[10:45 p.m.]

Mark offered to walk you home before it got too late — he had forgotten that it was a school night for him.

“Are you sure your mom won’t be mad?” Mark asks, nervously.

You laugh. “Once again, no. If she was worried about me we’d see flyers on the telephone poles,” you joke.

Mark chuckles. “Okay… I just don’t wanna get you in trouble for keeping you out so late. I lost track of time, to be honest…”

You nod. “Me too.” You had spent hours listening to Mark play his guitar and he tried to help you learn a song, but you weren’t as musically gifted as him, so it didn’t go very well. But Mark acted as if you were the God of Guitar, cheering when you played a few chords.

“Today was really fun.” he says softly. “If you ever wanna do this to… unwind… or whatever… just let me know.”

You smile. “Of course.”

Your heart drops as your house comes into view. It was your last few moments with Mark.

He walks you to your doorstep this time; he usually just walks to your driveway. It’s almost as if he knows. “Well,” Mark says, sighing. “We’re here.”

You grin, trying to mask your sadness. “Yeah… thanks for today. It was really fun!” you say.

Mark stares at you for a moment. “Um…” his eyes dart around, not sure where to look. “I…”

You watch him as he struggles to form a sentence. “Mark?” you ask softly.

He closes his mouth before closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. “I just had a lot of fun today.” he says.

You nod slowly. What did he really want to say? “Hurry and go home,” you tell him. “I don’t need you being all tired tomorrow.” your voice is barely above a whisper.

Mark stares at you for a few moments more. “You’re right,” he laughs, shaking his head. “I’m tired already… I’ll probably sleep like a baby when I get home.” Whatever tension was there had disappeared. In a spur-of-a-moment decision, you wrap your arms around him, hugging him tightly.

“Text me when you get home, okay?” you tell him. Your head is against his chest; You can hear his heart beating.

“Of course,” he breathes. He finally wraps his arms around you. “Are… you okay?” he asks again.

You feel tears rushing to your eyes again. You chuckle. “I’m fine. I just… I love you.” you whisper. “You’re my best friend, okay? And… I need you to know that.”

He rubs your back. “I love you too,” he replies. “I’m so glad to know you.” he says.

You let him go. You knew you had to.

“Well… I’ll see you tomorrow.” Mark says.

You nod. “I’ll see you.”

You knew it was a lie, but only on your end. He’d see you. You wouldn’t be seeing him. But you knew what you were doing was right. Mark starts walking away, giving you one final smile before he was out of sight.

You push your front door open, going straight to your room and letting yourself cry. You let all of your emotions out. You wanted to run to Mark and hug him again and you never wanted to let go.

You finally pulled yourself together when you heard a faint knock on your door. You wipe your eyes and face quickly, although you knew your face would be puffy from crying. “Come in.”

Jisung peeks in. “Are you okay?”

You nod, although it’s unconvincing — his simple question makes you cry more. “I’m fine.”

“Why are you crying?” Jisung opens the door completely and enters, sitting next to you on your bed. “Did something happen?”

You shake your head. “No. I’m not sad,” you lie. “I’m just… feeling a lot of emotions right now.”

Jisung furrows his brows. “But… you seem sad.”

You take a deep breath. “I’m not, bud. I’m fine. Nothing happened between me and Mark, if that’s what you’re asking. I guess I’m just feeling… thankful. For Mark, and you, and all my friends.”

“Oh…” you can tell Jisung is still confused, but he shrugs it off. “Well… I guess as long as you aren’t sad, it’s okay.”

You feel him wrap and arm around you. You hug him back, feeling much more relieved now that you had cried a bit more.

“I’m going to bed now,” Jisung says, removing his arm from around your shoulders. “Are you sure you’re okay…?”

You nod. “I’m okay, really. Go to bed. Don’t stay up late because of me.” you tell him. He should’ve been in bed already… you realize.

Jisung nods. “Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“I love you, Jisung.”

He seems taken aback by your words. You don’t blame him — no matter what, telling your sibling you love them still feels awkward.

“Love you too.”

He leaves your room. You pick up your bag from where you had placed it when you got to your room and retrieved your camera. You collect all the photos you had taken. The one of Jisung in the kitchen, him talking to Mark, Mark and his ice cream, everyone outside of the ice cream parlor, him outside of the restaurant, him playing his guitar, and finally, the photo Hyuck had taken of you. You shove them in your pocket, praying that they would return to the correct universe with you.

You lay down on your bed, completely exhausted. You just want to fall asleep, but you know you can’t. You pull out your phone, going to your messages and clicking on Hyuck’s name.

You

let me know when you’re ready.

[illfoandillfie]

What You Want Me To Be

FUTURE MANAGEMENT MASTERLIST

Pairing: Roger Taylor x Fem!Reader

Summery: Roger makes a suggestion that leads to a little role reversal

Warnings: SMUT (18+), hypnosis, bimbofication, sub!roger, dom!reader, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex,mild feminzation/sissification - specifically through appearance

Words: 9222

A/N: So this was a request from my 1000 follower celebration. It took me roughly a year to actually write the damn thing but I’m really glad I finally did it! At first I wasn’t quite sure how to write himbo Roger but I think I did an alright job... I just hope he’s dumb enough lmao. Also this took a bit of a turn into a kink I didn’t think I was actually into so I’m not sure what came over me but thank god it did. 

Song title is taken from Closer To You by The Cross (yet another song by them with big sub energy). Inspo for the hypnosis parts came from a few “intro to hypnosis” videos that are on youtube but the biggest inspo was THIS sleep hypnosis asmr that popped up in my feed months ago.

Taglist: @laedymoon @vee-ndetta @kellypenac @labessieisallama @deakyclicks @jennyggggrrr @drowseoftaylor @hannafuckingsucks @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming @queenmylovely @supersonicfreddie @taron-egrotten @johndeaconshands @borhapbois @stardust-galaxies @ohladymoon​

“I have a proposition for you,” Roger said out of the blue as he pulled himself up to sit on the kitchen bench. You looked up from the pot of soup you were keeping an eye on, watching that it didn’t boil over, “What sort of proposition?” you asked with narrowed eyes. With Roger a statement like that could lead to just about anything and you were instantly suspicious. “What if we…filmed ourselves having sex.” The wooden spoon you’d been holding clattered against the side of the pot as you dropped it into the soup, “You want to make a sex tape?” “Yeah, does that excite you?” He raised his brows suggestively. “Maybe a little. What inspired this idea?” “Well what’s the point in owning a video camera if we don’t put it to use?” he laughed, “Plus I guess I was thinking it’d be kind of hot to film you when you’re all bimbo-y,” That was certainly not what you’d expected. A sex tape was one thing, maybe a thing you could get on board with if the right precautions were taken, but a tape of you under his hypnosis was a whole other question. “Close your mouth, love, unless you want to catch flies,” He laughed again, “What do you think?” “What I think...,” you took a breath, struggled to find the right words, “I can’t believe you’d ask that of me.” Roger seemed a little taken aback at your suddenly negative response but quickly recovered, “If you’re worried about someone seeing it then there’s no need. It’s not like we’d show anyone. It’d just be for us, when we’re away from each other or, I don’t know, just for fun. You could see yourself when you’re all spaced out. I know you’re curious about it and this would be your chance to see yourself like that.” He was right, you were curious. How could you not be? You knew what it felt like to be in that headspace, knew what it felt like to go blank and to obey whatever was asked of you, but you didn’t know what it was like for Roger, why he enjoyed seeing you that way as much as he did. “Just think about it for a second, think about how fucking hot that would be. And really you’ve got nothing to l-” “Don’t. You can’t just say that and expect me to suddenly agree to whatever you want. I’m not a bloody puppet you can control with a magic phrase.” “That’s not what I was trying to do!” “We both know what that phrase means in the context of this relationship Roger. Nothing to lose,” you scoffed, “Nice fucking try but this isn’t a question of getting me to be less inhibited or convincing me it’d be fun or brainwashing me into agreeing.” “I didn’t mean it like that, you know I wouldn’t do-” “And I don’t care how hot it would be for you. Do you have any idea how scary the thought of us filming that is? How vulnerable I am when I’m like that?” “Of cou-” “No, you don’t. You don’t or you wouldn’t have ask- Fuck,” you swore as the forgotten soup that had been bubbling away began to boil over. Turning the knob until the stove was off you quickly focused back on Roger, “This isn't the same as spanking or, or being restrained or anything like that. I’m literally giving up part of myself every time we play with hypnosis, giving up control in a way that is so…complete. I know we have backup triggers in place so that I can safeword if I need to and I know you wouldn’t abuse your power over me, but fuck Roger. Asking me to go into that headspace while you record proof of it, asking me to be that vulnerable for an audience, even if that audience is just us, is asking a fucking lot.” You sighed and looked over at the pot, “I’m not hungry anymore, I’m going to have a shower.”

“Y/N wait,” Roger slid from the bench and tried to take your hand but you shook him off and headed upstairs to the bathroom where you could think in peace without Roger’s concerned eyes or a ruined dinner to distract you. You worried you’d overreacted; it was only a suggestion after all. Not like he’d been saying you should film it right that second. He’d only been feeling out your interest. But it was also undeniably bold of him to consider making that request, seemingly without considering how big of a request it was.

You took your time in the shower, let your heart stop racing, let your mind calm. You still didn’t know what you were going to say to Roger. Maybe you could compromise, film something that wasn’t quite so exposing. Ruling it out completely didn’t feel right, not when it was something Roger was interested in trying and he’d been so supportive of trying things that interested you. And it wasn’t like you didn’t understand why he’d find the idea exciting. It was risqué in a way that made it thrilling. A light form of danger like having a quickie in the bathroom at a party – knowing there's a slim chance someone will see you but also knowing you can lock the door. Plus there was that element of an ego boost, seeing yourselves on tape, proof that he was as good a lay as he’d always claimed, proof you fit together as well as you felt you did. And if that had been where the suggestion stopped, just you and him in front of a camera, that could have been fun. But then he’d gone and said the b word and turned it into something else, something performative and invasive and terrifying. You only left the shower, thoughts still jumbled, when the water began to run cold. Wrapping yourself in a towel you headed towards the bedroom to find your pyjamas. Roger was already there. “Can I at least put some knickers on before you start in on it again,” you said, failing to keep your tone civil. “Can you stop trying to bite my head off when I’m about to apologise?” You turned away from your closet and crossed your arms over your chest, pinning the towel in place, as you waited for Roger to continue. “I’m sorry I didn’t consider the magnitude of what I was asking. And I’m sorry I said that phrase too. You’re right, it does hold a lot of context for us and I never want you to feel like I’m trying to manipulate you or to exploit your hypnotic triggers to get my way.” You sighed, all the fight leaving you with Roger’s apology, “It’s okay, I know you didn’t mean it that way. I’m sorry I stormed off like that. It’s just a lot y’know? Even thinking about filming that. There’s a reason you are the only person in the world who knows that I get off on that kind of thing. I had chances to tell exes and never took them because none of them would have got it, but you made me feel safe enough to share it and you understand it.” “I thought I did but you’re right, I don’t know what it’s like for you-" “No bu-” “But maybe I should.” “-t really I shouldn’t have expect- wait, what?” “Maybe I should know. And not because I’m trying to change your mind about the sex tape but I- I guess it doesn’t feel fair that I get to put you in that state without fully understanding it.” “Are you suggesting what I think you’re suggesting?” “If you think I’m suggesting that you hypnotise me, then yeah, that’s what I’m suggesting.” “Really?” “I’ve thought about it before. You mentioned it once a few months ago, about turning me into your bimbo,” “That was a joke,” you said incredulously. “And a very funny one. But I kept thinking about it a bit anyway and then tonight...it makes sense to try it, don’t you think.” “Rog, I don’t know,” “Just consider it, please? I would like to understand what it feels like for you when you’re tranced. And I think if we both had an idea of what it was like from the other side it would just make it better and more fun.”

“Okay, I’ll consider it.”

“Thank you,” Roger stepped in close to you, laying his hand on your cheek as the other settled on your waist, “I just want to look after you,” “You already do,” you lay your hand over his, keeping him pressed against you as you leaned into his touch. “Then I want to make you happy,” “You do that too,” “You’re an argumentative missy aren’t you,” he said with a shake of his head. “You wouldn’t like me half as much if I wasn’t,” Roger laughed and let his fingers fall down to toy with the top of your towel, threatening to pull it loose, “Can we kiss and make up now? You’re already almost dressed for it,” his sweet smile and soft laughter was infectious, making it impossible for you not to join in. As the moment faded he caught your lips, still smiling, “I love you,” “I love you too.”

Later that evening, curled up in front of the TV with Roger’s arm loosely slung around your waist, you dared to broach the subject again. “Did you really mean it about me hypnotising you?” “What part of everything I said made you think it was a joke?” “Okay, I guess what I’m really asking is are you sure you want to try that?” You readjusted yourself, turning to face Roger more, “For one thing I’m not sure I could take charge the way you do. And you remember how long it took us to get it to work on me, right? I don’t know that I’d be capable of doing it to you.” “Well to be fair to us, part of why it took so long to make it work was that we had no idea what we were doing.” “Mmm yeah, that’s true,” “But we know more now. And it doesn’t have to work straight away, we can take our time with it and try out different things.” “And what about me not being good at being the dominant one,” “Love, I think you’re selling yourself short. I’ve seen you handle the people who work for you, I’ve listened to you control a conversation even with those dicks who try to talk over you constantly. I know how bossy you can be, and I mean that in the best way possible. All you need is to know what you want and to tell me and it’ll happen. Anything else – the dirty talk and stuff – that's gravy.” “I can be kinda bossy, can’t I?” you laughed, “Yeah, maybe I could try it.” “You wanna give it a try right now?” “Now?” your heart began racing at the thought. “Nothing big or serious. But I'm feeling very relaxed and mellow right now, figured it might be a good time to start.” “Um, okay, yeah.” “Just do what I normally do to you,” You pushed yourself to sit up a little and Roger shifted to lean his head against your stomach. With a breath to calm yourself, you brought your hand to Roger’s hair and began raking your fingers through it the way he liked. He hummed softly. “I, um, I don’t know what to say,”  Roger looked up at you and smiled, “Remember how we first started, the inductions we tried? Just talk me through what you want to happen. If it works, I’ll drop right to sleep when you tell me to, and you can suggest I cluck like a chicken or act like a mime or whatever you want. Then it’s just a matter of waking me and watching it happen.” “It sounds so easy when you say it like that,” “It kind of is once you get the hang of it. Or maybe you’re just an easy subject,” “Are you still feeling relaxed?” “Mmhmm,” Roger looked up at you and smiled, “You’ve got this, love,” You took a breath and tried to copy what you’d seen Roger do so many times before, the calming, confident way he spoke, as you continued to stroke his hair, “Focus on me, baby, just focus on my voice. Feel your eyes get heavier with everything I say. Feel yourself relaxing more,” Roger hummed softly as his eyes fluttered shut. “That’s right, just relax, you’re doing so well baby. Feeling so nice and calm and relaxed. And just sinking deeper and deeper. Sleep, baby, nice and deep.” Roger’s eyes tightened and his lips twisted into a slight frown. “It’s okay baby, just relax for me.” “Sorry,” Roger said, opening his eyes, “It’s not working,” “I knew I wasn’t going to be any good at this,” “No, you’re doing well, it takes a bit of getting used to it all. Also the TV’s still on which makes it hard to focus. What you were saying was good though, maybe throw in some more repetition. And I think there’s something about how you’re saying it that isn’t working. You need to sound more confidant, like you actually believe it’s possible.” “Okay, noted. Um, can we try it with you sitting up? Then I can try some other stuff I remember from when you were learning, the forehead tap induction and the arm drop thing.” “Brilliant idea,” Roger pushed himself to sit up on the couch, getting comfortable as you stood to turn off the TV. You dropped back into the seat beside him, crossing your legs under you as you faced Roger. Once again you centred yourself and tried to conjure up the confidence you’d been missing. When you felt ready to try again you reached for Roger’s hand, tracing your fingertips over his palm, along the length of each finger, his thumb, the back of his hand. “Okay, here we go. I want you to relax for me, focus on your breathing, feel each breath filling your lungs, nice and deep. And feel the air leaving you as you breathe out again. And then back in, big deep breath. Feel yourself relaxing with each breath, feeling sleepy. That’s right baby, in...and out...and in again. Each deep breath making you relax more and more.” Roger’s eyes were shut, leaning his weight against the back of the couch as he breathed in time with your words. “That’s right,” you brought your hand up to his forehead and gave him a small tap, the way you remembered him doing to you the first few times he put you under, “And sleep.” Roger’s head slumped forward. “Good boy. That’s right, now keep breathing, keep relaxing. Deeper and deeper with each breath.” You couldn’t help but smile at seeing just how you were affecting Roger, how loose his shoulders were, how heavy his head hung. Maybe you were starting to understand why he enjoyed it. “That’s right, just let yourself relax, let yourself feel loose and calm. In a moment I’m going to lift your arm a few inches and drop it back down into your lap. Let me do all the work. All you need to do is stay nice and loose and limp and relaxed. And when you feel your arm drop down, you’ll notice how much more you can relax.” You reached for Roger’s arm again, taking it by the wrist, and tried to lift it just above where it rested. “Relax for me baby, nice and loose.” Once more you tried to lift his arm by the wrist but again he tensed up. With a sigh you tapped on his forehead again, “Wake up Roger,” Roger lifted his head and smiled at you, “that went better.” “Right up until you wouldn’t let me lift your arm.” “I didn’t?” “Nope.” “It’s harder being hypnotised than I expected,” he shrugged, “But we can try again, right?” “Yes, definitely. Maybe after I’ve had a bit more warning though, some time to prep.”

It took another couple of weeks for you to find an evening when you both felt up to trying again. But the break gave you time to prepare. You found an old library book Roger had never returned from when he’d been researching hypnotism and skimmed through it, making a few notes of things to try and how to try them. When it came time to test them you and Roger took up your spots on the couch once more as you got him to breathe calmly and focus on you. You dropped him into the trance with the same forehead tap you’d used before, since you knew it worked, and talking to him with as much calm and as much confidence as you could muster. But once more, as you attempted to lift his arm, you found him resisting. “Nice deep breaths baby, relax and let yourself go loose. You’ve got nothing to lose.” You were almost surprised when Roger made a small humming noise as you reached for his arm again and found yourself able to lift it a couple of inches into the air before dropping it back to his lap. “Doing so well for me baby, being so good, just let yourself sink deeper. Deeper. That’s right, nice and relaxed.” You played around with a few of the deepening techniques the book had suggested to strengthen the hypnosis, asking him to slowly and softly count to ten, asking him to repeat mantras. You had to cover your mouth to keep from laughing when you realised it had worked. You’d successfully hypnotised Roger. “Very good baby. Now in a moment I’m going to wake you up but when I do, you’ll feel as if you’ve been glued to the couch. You won’t be able to stand up and the more you try the harder it’ll be, okay? Three, two, one,” you tapped his forehead again, “wake up.” Roger raised his head, blinked a few times as he readjusted to the light. “How was that?” “Really good, I felt more comfortable not being in control that time. Still a weird sensation though. It doesn’t feel how I thought it would.” “How so?” “I guess I expected to like black out completely but that’s not really it, is it? I still feel...alert?” “I know what you mean. It’s like you still feel like your awake even though everyone talks about sleep and it kind of doesn’t feel like its working, right?” “Exactly! What about for you?” “It all worked I think. You resisted a bit at first but I kept talking to you and got you to relax more and everything was fine.” “God that’s hot,” “I know right,” you laughed, “actually, do you mind getting me a glass of water, I’ve been talking a fair bit and my throat feels a little scratchy,” “Sure thing love,” Roger nodded, flashing you a soft, dreamy smile, as he braced his hands on the edge of the couch. But as he tried to stand the smile slipped from his face and his brow crinkled in confusion. “You okay Rog?” “Yeah, uh, just,” he tried to stand again, “I can’t ge- Y/N you fucker,” “I wanted to see if giving you a suggestion would actually work,” you laughed, “apparently it does.” “Alright you can stop this now. Please,” “Sleep,” you tapped on his forehead, watching as his head dropped forward once more,” “When I wake you, you won’t feel stuck to the couch anymore, you’ll feel entirely normal and be able to stand with ease. Wake up.” The tap brought Roger’s attention back to you for a moment before he pushed himself to his feet successfully. “Thank you,” “You’re welcome. How do you feel?” “Like normal. That was great though.” “It’s fun isn’t it, being put under like that,” “Almost as fun as putting you under.”

You laughed along with Roger as you headed to the kitchen, “I do feel more confident about it all now though. But I’m still not entirely sure how to do the next part and get you to go all bimbo-y.” “The trick is to try a longer induction. Just talking, almost like a conversation. I find it makes for a better drop than the suddenness of a forehead tap or a click or anything like that. I guess because there’s more opportunity to make you feel like it’s all your idea, which granted it often is. But it gets the brain to accept the bimbo-ness more easily. The only time I might use a quicker induction is if we’re playing with fractionation but that’s more advanced, and we want to keep this fairly basic.” “Easier for both of us then. Do you have a script you follow?” “Not exactly. I mostly wing it but there are a few things I tend to try and use. If I can tie it into something you’ve said, that always helps. Like if you say I’ve had a shitty day at work and need to stop thinking about it all, then I’d talk to you about letting go of the day, forgetting about work, stuff like that. If you say you want to play because you’re bored, I’d say something about how you can’t be bored without a brain or how taking dick is a good way to fill time or something like that. It builds on your existing feelings and makes everything stick better. Repetition is always helpful, counting, ummm what else,” Roger clicked his tongue thoughtfully, “You respond really well to touch so I try and play with your hair or rub your back as I talk just to focus your attention. Oh, of course I try to say you’ve got nothing to lose, or variations of it, at least a couple of times. Partly because that’s one of the trigger phrases I set up when we started doing this properly but also because, well, y’know, us.” “I think I can remember all of that,” “Don’t overthink it, love. Just say whatever comes to mind in the moment and go from there. You can always adjust what you’re doing as you do it.”

The next few attempts you made at hypnotising Roger were spent trying to get the hang of the longer, more conversational inductions. You tried the same methods he adopted, running your fingers over his arms and through his hair as you asked him to count his breaths, talking to him about his day or whatever was on his mind. Another time you tried something more traditional, getting him to watch one of his old necklaces as you swung it before his eyes. You had some mild success, able to put him under long enough to make small suggestions but not all of the suggestions worked. The real breakthrough came on a drizzly Saturday afternoon, sitting across from Roger on your bed, as you tried not to get too frustrated with how hard you were finding it to hypnotise him. “Love, don’t worry. You’ll get the hang of it. Honestly, hypnosis and drumming are kind of similar because-” Roger kept talking but you’d stopped listening, struck by a sudden idea. “So if you think of it like that the,...wait, where are you -?” “Just give me two seconds,” You quickly sped down the hallway and around to Roger’s office slash music room. Sitting on the shelf that hung over his desk – neat excluding the open notebook, the visible pages covered in lyrics that had been crossed out and scribbled over, and his journal where he kept track of all his meetings and other goings on – was what you were looking for. An old metronome Roger had been given to help him learn how to keep time on his first ever drumkit. Obviously unused now, though he held onto it thanks to a slight sentimental streak and the idea that one day he may be able to teach your children how to play. He seemed surprised to see it in your hands as you re-entered the bedroom. “Well,” you said as you placed it on the bedside table, “I figure that, since you’re so musically inclined, having a rhythm to focus on might help you drop. I hope this thing still works.” “Worth a shot,” “If this does make it easier to drop you, what, um, what should I do?” “Are you asking how to initiate sex with me?” “So you do want to take it in that direction? You don’t want to start smaller? We haven’t done any of the prep stuff with setting safe word triggers and all that.” “We hadn’t done any of that the first time we had sex while you were all bimbo-y, it was only after we decided to play with it more regularly that we add all the safety precautions. “Yeah, I know, but-“ “I don’t think you’ll be doing anything too kinky, right?” “I wasn’t planning on it,” “Exactly. It’s not like there’s going to be restraints or anything like that. Just good old fashioned missionary or whatever you decide. And you know I trust you.” “I just want to make sure you feel okay with it all. I know how important it is to feel safe for hypnosis to work,” “Y/N, it’s fine. If you can turn me into a dumb slut, please do. That’s kind of the whole point of this. Also, if we don’t fuck now then I’m just going to try it on before bed anyway.” You laughed and nodded, “dumb slut it is. Now, can you sit over here for me?” Roger nodded and scooted along the bed, turning to face the metronome as you set it ticking on a slower speed. When you were sure it was working you hopped onto the bed beside him, walking on your knees until you were kneeling behind his back. “You mean I don’t get to watch you?” Roger pouted over his shoulder, throwing an arm behind him to try and find your hand. You caught his flailing limb and gave it a squeeze as you took a breath and tried once again to summon the right voice, “No, I want you to watch the metronome,” gently you pressed on the side of his jaw, encouraging him to turn and face the metronome, “follow it with your eyes. Watch as it swings back and forth. Back. And forth. And listen to my voice. Watch the metronome, listen to me. Of course, you know what a metronome is for, don’t you?” Roger nodded, though his eyes remained glued to the swaying device. “Of course you do. You know it’s for helping to keep the correct tempo, tempo, tempo. Especially for anyone just starting to learn an instrument.” You spoke close to his ear, trailing your fingers down until you were resting your hands on his shoulders, “But today it’s going to help you learn something else. Or, rather, forget. Focus on the beat as you watch the pendulum. Back and forth, back and forth. That’s right, just like that. Focus on the beat, focus on the pendulum. Every click of the beat pushes your focus deeper and deeper as you watch it swing back and forth. Swinging and clicking. Clicking and swinging. Just like that. Let it take you deeper. You’ve got nothing to lose by going deeper. Good boy, keep listening to the beat. Every click pushes you deeper, every click. Deeper. Click. Click. Click. Deeper and deeper. And every time you sink deeper, you find it harder to keep your eyes open. Feel your eyes wanting to close with every click. Click. Click.” Roger rapidly blinked as he tried to keep his eyes open, humming in agreement. “Don’t fight it baby, just listen to the beat, listen to my voice. Your eyes are getting more and more heavy. Getting more and more tired. With every sway of the pendulum, back and forth, back and forth.” Roger’s head nodded forwards as his eyes slid shut. “That’s right, just like that. Being so good. You know there’s nothing to lose by following my instructions, getting sleepier and sleepier. I’m going to count you down now. Ten. Keep listening to that click, click, click. No need to fight it, baby. Listen to the clicking, listen to my voice. Nine. Letting go of all control and all your thoughts. Eight. Letting your brain empty. Every click makes your brain emptier and emptier. Nice and easy. Seven. No room for thoughts. Just the click, click, click of the pendulum and my voice, my instructions. Six. Nothing to lose by letting go of your thoughts, letting your brain empty. Becoming so good and dumb for me. Five. And as you feel your head empty, as all your thoughts fly out of your brain with that clicking, you feel something else. You feel hornier and hornier. Four. With every click, click, click, feel more and more leave your brain. Hornier and emptier, emptier and hornier. So easy and dumb for me. Nothing left to lose. Nothing in your head except for me. Two. Good boy, nice and deep and dumb and horny. One.” You paused for a moment but Roger didn’t stir, just kept breathing deeply, eyes shut. Trying not to panic that you’d done something wrong you gave him a final instruction, “When you feel ready, when your head feels empty and dumb I want you to wake up okay?” You fell silent again, nervously rubbing your hands over Roger’s shoulders as you waited for him to respond.

Thirty seconds or so later Roger slowly lifted his head, blinking his eyes open. You breathed a sigh of relief and stood up to stop the metronome. Roger looked at you, frowning slightly. “Hey, baby, how do you feel?” you asked, bending down to look him in the eye. “Um,” he scrunched his nose up, “head…heavy.” It was odd to say the least, seeing Roger, who was normally so quick witted and intelligent and well-spoken struggle to put together two little words, “Is that all?” “No?” He thought for a moment more, face breaking out into a grin, “Good. I feel good.” “I knew that you would now,” “You did?” “No, like the song Rog. I Feel Good by James Brown?” You moved back to the middle of the bed, taking a seat, cross legged, Roger watching closely and imitating you. “Song?” “You play the record constantly.” “Record?” “Fuck. This really worked,” you laughed, excited that, seemingly, you’d managed to pull it off. “What?” Roger cocked his head to the side, face once again crinkled up in concentration as he tried to understand. You had to laugh again, “Sorry baby but you look very cute when your confused,” Another smile crept onto Roger’s face. “What’s got you so happy?” “You said I’m cute,” “Okay well, you’re still Roger then.” “Am I still cute?” “Absolutely,” you giggled, “Can I ask you some questions?” Roger nodded rapidly. “What are you thinking about right now?” “Cunt.” There was no hesitation, no trying to find the right word this time, “I love cunt. Your cunt most of all.” “Some things don’t change,” you muttered more to yourself than Roger, “Any other thoughts?” This time he thought a bit harder, smile getting bigger as he voiced each one “Orgasms. Making you wet. Cunt.” “Christ, am I this one tracked when I’m tranced?” “What?” “Nothing baby. I have another question for you, what can you tell me about the drums?” you were curious to see how deep the hypnosis went, and because the drums were such an integral part of Roger’s life, his psyche, thought  that it would be a good indication. “Umm…. Drums are,” he drew the word out as he thought, “loud. Loud and...fun.” “Can you tell me anything about playing the drums?” Roger concentrated for a moment, expression shifting to worry, “No?” “That’s okay, I’m just checking something. How do you feel now?” “Still good. Also...” “Also what baby?” “Horny? Yeah, horny.” It was like Roger had only just become aware that that’s what the feeling was, “Very horny.” “Very horny? That’s a good feeling though, isn’t it?” Roger nodded again, enthusiastic agreement. “And what should we do about it?” “Ummm,” “That’s okay, I’ll think of something,” you winked at Roger sending him into a fit of giggles. It was hard to wrap your head around seeing him like that but hearing him laugh helped. He wasn’t as giggly as you knew you were when you were tranced. Roger always mentioned the giggling after you’d woken back up, said it was one of his favourite things about bimbo you, how amusing you found everything. But he was a different breed of bimbo. You’d been expecting more laugher if you were honest since that’s how he got when he was drunk. (Well, he either fell about laughing and acting like a child, or  he was suddenly ready to debate anyone about anything, depending on what and how much he’d had, but you could hardly expect someone with no braincells to even know what a debate was, so you’d expected laughter.) He was definitely happy, though, just smiley more than giggly.  And he was very agreeable if the speed and enthusiasm he showed for your questions was anything to go by. You’d have to be careful when you eventually let him touch you or else he’d explode from happiness. The biggest difference though was his voice. He’d never had a terribly deep voice but now it was lighter than normal, less rough, more vapid. Nothing he said sounded certain and coming from a man who was normally sure of himself and who spoke like it, that was a big difference. But it was all quite arousing really. Knowing you’d been able to put him in this state, knowing that all his thoughts were directed at you. The very small part of you that got jealous and clingy purred at the notion. No band to share him with, no friends, no fans. He was all yours. And he was thrilled about it. “Are you ready yet?” “So impatient baby,” “Mmmmaybe. I want to touch you,” “You can in a minute,” you laughed at his eagerness, “I’m just not quite sure what to do with you. Normally you’d be the one bossing me around and I spent so much time worrying about how to turn you into a bimbo that I didn’t consider what to do with you once you were under.” Roger gave you another happily confused look though he was momentarily distracted by drops of rain running down the window behind you. You had to tap his knee to get his attention again. “Alright, alright. I’m pretty horny myself and I think I’d like to get off so….” You considered your options for a moment, “You always like making me go down on you when I’m all brainless and stupid, so I think that’s what we’ll start with. You can eat me out.” Roger jumped to his knees, practically bouncing with excitement as you lay back and let your legs part. “Thank you,” he said as he quickly tugged off your pants and underwear. “Such good manners,” Roger hummed as he buried himself between your legs, pushing them a little wider. His enthusiasm continued; his whole attention focused on your pussy as he dragged his tongue along it. “Jesus, you don’t muck around,” you laughed, getting comfortable. Roger mumbled something against you. “Speak up Dummy, can’t hear you.” He lifted his head long enough to say, “you taste good,” before licking along your slit again. “You’re so cute with a head full of cunt,” Roger hummed in agreement which made you laugh though it turned into a gasp as his tongue brushed past your clit. Without thinking you brought your hand to rest against the back of Roger’s head, twisting his hair around your fingers. He barely noticed, much more concerned with making you as wet as possible with just his mouth, both of his hands gripping your thighs tightly. It was different to most of the times he’d gone down on you. Normally there was an element of teasing to his head game, even if it was just a casual lazy session. There was always the threat of being edged, even when you knew neither of you were in the mood for that. Kisses and grazed teeth on your thigh when you wanted his lips elsewhere, as if he were just reminding you that you liked it when he took charge. And that was fun. You enjoyed it a lot, wouldn’t trade it for anything. But there was something to be said for this version of Roger. This brainless version who wouldn’t even consider teasing you, who only wanted to make you feel good, who didn’t have any motivations outside your pleasure. He was meticulous, seemingly determined to touch every erogenous spot you had, every nerve ending. Sucking and licking with such fervour and glee that the sound made you dizzy. When he did something that made your breath catch in your throat or, even better, pulled a moan from you, he made sure to repeat it, taking your half-formed expletives as praise. And then he’d find a new spot to make you moan. By the time he decided to focus his attention entirely on your clit, you could feel how wet you were on the inside of your thighs. You were sure you would have been making a terrible mess of the sheets if Roger hadn’t been devouring every drop. “Just like that Dummy,” you panted, “fuck, don’t stop” Roger took your words to heart, tightening his lips around your clit and refusing to move until your legs clamped tight around his head as you came. Even after you relaxed again he didn’t stop entirely, dragging his tongue through your creamy arousal until you physically pushed him away. He pouted in disappointment. “Don’t look so sad baby. I just need a little break because you were so good,” “Oh!” He beamed dopily at the praise, “Thank you!” “How are you feeling?” “Um, I made you feel good so I feel good.” You laughed, “You’d do just about anything if I said it would make me happy, even something like hump the mattress, wouldn’t you?” Before you’d even finished speaking Roger had repositioned himself and begun rutting against the mattress, “Like this?” “Fuck,” “Can I lick your cunt again?” You were tempted to say yes but you still felt sensitive and besides, other ideas were forming, “no, not right now. I just want to watch you for a minute.” “Okay,” he sighed. “Does that feel good Dummy?” “Yes,” “Don’t cum,” “Okay,” "You look very pretty like this,” you indicated his messy hair and the sheen of cum and saliva that still coated his chin, “But something’s missing. When I let you hypnotise me I always dress for the occasion. Stop.” Roger stilled once more, sitting up to watch you as you walked over to your dresser and dug through the draws. “What’s that?” “Shhh Dummy, just sit. Show me that pout again,” Roger sat still as you swiped the hot pink over his lips. “This is a shade called Bimbo and it suits you. You look very pretty,” “Thank you!” he blushed at the praise. “I think you could look sluttier though. Clothes off, except your undies.” Roger stood and began stripping off his shirt immediately, dropping it to the floor as he hurried to unbutton his jeans. “Aww you’re so hard baby. No wonder you wanted to hump,” “Can I touch you now?” “You can kiss me,” “Really?!” You didn’t even have time to confirm the suggestion before he was diving on you, pressing his lips to yours excitedly.

When he finally let you breathe, the lipstick was smeared across both your faces. “Much sluttier,” you laughed, getting only another of his confused looks in response, “Hump the bed again Dummy, show me what a good, dumb slut you are. Good boy,” Roger whined at the friction, but you ignored him, pulling your shirt and bra off before you settled back on the bed, right in front of him, letting your legs spread. Roger whined again. “Do you see how wet you’ve made me?” you asked, running two fingers between your lips, “just from knowing how brainless you are. I get it now, why you like seeing me act like a dumb fuckdoll. It’s fun. Powerful. You wanna touch me so badly, don’t you? Practically drooling,” Roger nodded, “can I?” “No, you can watch for now. Make sure you slow down or stop if you feel like you’re going to cum.” You made sure his eyes were on your pussy as you slowly spread your wetness up to your clit and back down, teasing yourself a little before slipping two fingers into your hole. “Keep watching me Dummy,” you slowly pushed the fingers deeper into you before pulling them back out and then repeated the motion. Roger’s hips sped up in time with your fingers, though he slowed again before long, always mindful of how close he was, only wanting to be good and follow your instructions. By the time you could easily slide three fingers into yourself you’d decided it wasn’t enough, you needed him. “Stop baby. Good boy, good Dummy. What do you want now?” “Your cunt.” “I should have known.” “What does that mean?” “Don’t you worry your pretty little empty head about it. Now lie down for me, baby, on your back. I’m going to reward you by riding your cock,” Roger beamed again and hurried to do as you’d asked. You passed him the pillows from the top of the bed and told him to prop his head up. “I want you to watch Dummy. Watch me take you, watch how deep you fit inside me.” Roger nodded and gave you another dopey smile as you pulled his underwear off and crawled over his lap. His eyes went wide as you lined him up and slowly started to sink down on him. “You watching pretty boy?” “Yes,” “How does it make you feel?” “G-good.” “Yeah? It makes me feel good too,” you leaned forward to kiss his stained lips again as you sank a little lower, his breath hitching, “You’re being such a good boy. Maybe I’ll let you finish in me and then clean up the mess with that pretty mouth. Would you like that?” “So much!” You grunted as you sank lower still, Roger bottoming out and groaning quietly. After a moment to adjust you began to leisurely grind on him, circling your hips, rocking back and forth. He reached up and spread his hands on your chest, eyes wide as if surprised by his own movement. “Nice to see you diversifying your interests,” you laughed. Roger fell into giggles too, though he clearly didn’t understand why. His breath hitched as you quickened your pace, building up a faster rhythm, but his attention kept bouncing between his hands on your breasts and where he was disappearing into you. “Breathe baby,” Roger let out a breath, panting softly. “Such a dummy. Can’t even remember to breathe,” you felt yourself clench and Roger’s head dropped back against the pillows, his eyes rolling and mouth falling open. The sight of him looking so dazed, with hot pink lipstick smudged from his lips to his chin and his hair in a wild mess, made you moan. “You l-look so f-f-ucked out Dummy. Cunt drunk. Fuck it’s hot. You’re s-such a hot sl-ut,” you raised yourself higher, dropped back down harder, riding Roger roughly as you drew closer to the edge. But you needed more. His hands still lay on your breasts, squeezing and palming them lightly, but he let you grab one and reposition it, bending it towards his own mouth. “Suck,” Dutifully he took the fingers you offered him, coating them in his saliva before you pulled his hand back towards you, placing his wet fingers on your clit. “Th-at’s right Dummy, such a-a good f-uck toy. Gon-gonna get me off,” Roger nodded, moaning as you fucked yourself on him until you reached the peak, your release making you shake. You slumped forward, letting it wash over you, trying to get your breath back as you listened to Roger’s own ragged breath and small whimpers. “Sorry baby,” you said, leaning in to kiss him softly before easing yourself off of him, “are you okay?” “Yes,” he smiled though you were still a little worried. Once glance at is cock was all it took to see just how painfully hard he was, tip flushed a redy-purple. “Are you sure you’re okay? I don’t want to push you too far, I want this to be fun,” “I am having fun, silly,” he giggled. “Yeah? You like being my fuck doll?” “Mhmm! I love it! I’m a good dumb doll,” “You are baby, so good. Do you want to cum now?” “Maybe?” You chuckled to yourself, understanding exactly why he was unsure. You remembered what it was like, the confused mix of feelings. Knowing that an orgasm would feel good for you but still not wanting it unless you also knew it would feel good for your Sir, “It would make me happy to watch you cum,” “Really?” “Very much. Would you like to make me happy?” “Of course!” another grin stretched over Roger’s face and you couldn’t help but grin back. “Alright but first I want you to stand up and go over to my closet okay,” Roger nodded as he rolled out of bed. “Now open the third draw. No not that one Dummy, the next one down. There you go. I want you to have a look and find a pair of panties you’d like to wear.” You watched as Roger looked through the draw, considering your underwear as if this was the single most important decision he’d ever have to make. He picked a pair out, discarded it, furrowed his brow and looked again. There was obviously some sort of criteria in whatever was left of his mind, but you’d be damned if you could figure out what was influencing his opinions. Eventually he settled on a lacy pink thong, stepping into it at your word. “Good choice baby. Do you like how it feels?” Roger gently let his fingers run over the scrap of material along his hip and down over his straining cock before nodding happily, “feels...naughty,” he started giggling when you laughed. “Naughty is a good way to feel,” you crooked your finger and Roger followed, standing in front of you, waiting for his next instruction, “and it’ll feel even naughtier when your pretty cock cums in those pretty knickers. Do you want to ride my thigh like a pretty, dumb slut?” “Yes please,” “I can’t get over how fucking adorable you are when you’re like this.” you shuffled back a little, stretching out your legs and leaning back on your hands before tapping your thigh, Roger bouncing with excitement as he settled in place. He let out a soft oh as he began grinding on your thigh, rubbing his dick again you. “That’s right pretty boy. I think next time I might dress you up from the beginning. You’d look very pretty in my lacy knickers with your head between my thighs.” Roger whimpered again, hips jolting as his cock twitched. “You like the sound of that Dummy? Gonna make a mess on my thigh thinking about how good it would feel to lick my cunt while I tell you how pretty and slutty you look? C’mon Dummy, cum for me. Be a good brainless doll and cum to make me happy.” “Yes. I wi-ll, yes-s” Roger muttered, concentrating so hard on keeping his rhythm and getting to the edge. He moaned when he reached it, his movements becoming stuttered and jerky as he soaked the fabric, cum spilling from the gaps in the lace and being spread across your skin as he kept rutting as best he could. “Good boy, good Dummy,” you said, pushing your fingers through his hair, leaning in to kiss his jaw and then his lips.

While he was recovering, getting his breath back, he lay down beside you, grinning again, delighted and proud. You quietly praised him some more as you pulled off his underwear. “Might have ruined these,” you said, throwing them into a corner of the room before turning and restarting the metronome. “What’s that sound?” “It’s a metronome,” you explained, resuming your spot beside Roger, stroking his arm, “I want you to close your eyes and listen to the noise, listen to that click, click, click. And as you listen, you’ll start to remember, start to bring back all your thoughts and all your control. Click. Click. Click. Feel your mind coming back, rising up, up, up, out of the deep sleep. Coming back to yourself, back to normal. No longer so deep and dumb and horny. Just normal, just Roger. Every click makes you feel more and more like yourself. Every click makes it easier to remember, easier to think. That’s right, feeling more like yourself.” You wished you’d thought to ask Roger about this part, about waking him back up, a little fearful that you’d get it wrong and he’d have lost something important, “Nothing to lose by coming back to yourself, nothing to lose by remembering. Bringing back your mind and your thoughts. That’s right, coming back up. No longer deep and dumb and horny and easy.” You kept going until Roger opened his eyes and sat up, shaking his head as if to clear it. “Rog? Feeling okay?” You asked nervously. “A little fuzzy but pretty great,” he said, smiling as his eyes settled on you, “That was fun,” “And you remember everything about playing the drums?” “Of course,” “Thank god. I wouldn’t know how to explain to the others if I’d accidentally erased that for good,” Roger laughed and shook his head again, “The fuzziness does go away eventually right?” “Yeah it does, give it ten minutes, maybe a little more since it’s your first time. It’s just your brain readjusting.” “Okay,” he reached out to grab your hand, “What about you though? How did you find it being in charge?” “Um, yeah, I definitely liked it more than I thought I would.” “You seemed to take to it like a duck to water. Have I still got lipstick on?” “A little bit,” you chuckled, “I can get you a makeup wipe,” “In a minute. Let’s just cuddle for a bit, talk about it all,” “Yeah alright,” you let Roger pull you against him, your head leaning on his chest as your thumb slowly rubbed back and forth on his stomach, “You were okay with that stuff right? The lipstick and my knickers and all that,” “Definitely into it. More than I ever thought I would be. But I kind of think I should remind you why you enjoy being all subby for me before you get carried away. I could turn your brain on for a bit, make you put those panties on and wear them for the rest of the day. I’d get you to suck me off too but you’d have to stand still while I came into the knickers while you were wearing them. Gotta keep them topped up for you.” You squirmed a little at the thought, “Maybe I’ll have to buy you your own set of pretty lacy underwear to wear next time. And your own lipstick.” Both of you fell into giggles. “Wait, if I was the domme, shouldn’t I be the one cuddling you,” “Love, I wore pink lipstick and women’s underwear today, I need to maintain some of my masculinity. Besides I like holding you anyway.” “Alright,” “No, but, I do think I better understand you now, why you wouldn’t want to be filmed like that and what you meant when you said you were vulnerable. I mean, while I was under all I cared about was what you wanted. It didn’t matter how it felt for me, just how it felt for you. Which is kind of scary from both perspectives really. I suppose you have to trust that if things did cross a line into something you weren’t comfortable with, your subconscious wouldn’t let you do it, at least without putting up a fight.” “Yeah that’s definitely a concern but remember we have the safeword triggers in place so I can stop things if I don’t want them, and if you ever want to be the hypnotised one again then we can do the same thing for you. But, all that being said, I um, I was kind of thinking that maybe it wouldn’t be so bad after all. Filming ourselves. With me as the bimbo. You were right, it would be hot.” “You know you don’t have to say that to try and impress me or make me happy or whatever. I really do get it. It’s insane how easy you become to influence under the trance and you really do have to have full trust in the person doing it to you. I wouldn’t necessarily want proof of that on video either.” “No, Rog, listen. I am in. As long as we’re careful about what happens to the tape afterwards, then I want to. Seeing you all mindless was so hot and I kind of really want to see myself like that too. It’s hard not to be curious about that. And I want to see what you do too – how you talk to me and interact with me because on one hand I already know and have watched you do it so many times, but it’s always been while you’re putting me under or while I’m already under so I’ve never really paid attention to how you do it. I’d love to see it from the perspective of someone who isn’t a mindless doll that can’t stop thinking about dick. Especially if we do want to play more with you being the bimbo. I don’t know, I could pick up some tips from it maybe.” “If you really want to then I’m in too. We’ll need to talk about maybe redoing the safeword triggers because I want us to be sure they work and that they aren’t fading with time and that they’re still strong enough. And of course, we’ll be super careful with the tape. We can talk about that too. I’m happy to do anything you need to feel secure. I’d destroy the tape after we watched it if you wanted.” “I don’t know if we need to go that far. I might want to watch it more than once,” “I love you. Adore you,” “Shut up,” “Nope, you are the most incredible woman and the most amazing partner,” “It’s a sex tape Rog, nothing to get poetic over,” you rolled your eyes teasingly. “If I can’t get poetic over sex then what’s the fucking point of poetry?”