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wolverigrl · 2 months ago

Note

Hugh x reader.

Reader is a mom of two young kids, something like Pre-K and 4/5th grade. She gets her hopes too high thinking her ex husband will at least show up for the kids 1st day of school but they all get disappointed; Hugh as the gentleman/sweetest dad he is steps up and takes care of it making a surprise for them

Broken Promises

Hugh Jackman x f!reader

A/N: I hope I won't trigger someone's serious daddy issues like I did to me lmao. But seriously, I had fun writing this one, too!

Warnings: angst, some swearing here and there, mentions of unavailable parent

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The house was unusually quiet for a Saturday afternoon. Too quiet. I found myself pacing the living room again, eyeing the clock, then the door, and back to the clock. I had done this routine enough times to know how it usually ended. Ethan and Mason were perched on the couch, peeking out the window every now and then, waiting for the unmistakable sound of their father’s car pulling into the driveway.

"Mom, when's Dad coming?" Ethan asked for what felt like the hundredth time. His voice had that hopeful, uncertain edge that always tore at my heart.

Ethan was nine now, old enough to sense when something wasn’t quite right but still young enough to wish it wasn’t true.

I ran a hand through my hair and forced a smile.

"Soon, sweetheart. He said he’d be here."

Ethan nodded, though he didn’t look entirely convinced. He was too smart for his own good. Mason, on the other hand, was sprawled across the floor with his toys, blissfully unaware of time and promises. At four, he was still full of that magical childhood innocence where you believe everything will always work out.

The boys weren’t the only ones waiting. Hugh, Ava, and Oscar were here too. Ava, Hugh’s 12-year-old daughter, was curled up on the couch, nose buried in a book while Oscar, his 17-year-old son, was tapping away on his phone, though he glanced at me from time to time with a knowing look. Hugh was in the kitchen, pretending to busy himself, but I knew him well enough to catch his subtle glances toward the front door. He was watching too.

Waiting.

The doorbell rang, cutting through the tense silence like a knife. Mason jumped up immediately, his little face lighting up with excitement as he dashed to the door. "Daddy!" he shouted, his tiny hands struggling to twist the doorknob before Ethan quickly helped him.

And there he was. Matthew.

My ex-husband.

Standing there with that familiar polished grin, the same one that had fooled me for years before I realized it was more charm than substance.

He looked every bit the smooth-talking lawyer he was, hair neatly combed, wearing an expensive suit that screamed 'I don’t have time for this', but here I am anyway.

"Hey, buddy!" Matthew exclaimed as Mason leapt into his arms, his voice dripping with enthusiasm. He shot a quick glance at me, his smile faltering for a second before he smoothly recovered. "Sorry I’m late. Busy day at work."

"Of course you are." I muttered under my breath. But the boys didn’t care.

They only saw their dad, and that was enough for them. Ethan approached more cautiously, his eyes studying Matthew, almost as if he were waiting to see if this time would be different. I knew that look all too well.

"Hey, Ethan!" Matthew said, ruffling his son’s hair. "Got something for you both." He reached into the sleek black bag slung over his shoulder and pulled out two shiny, brand-new backpacks.

Mason squealed with delight, clutching his in his arms like it was made of gold, while Ethan’s expression shifted from excitement to hesitation.

"Cool, thanks, Dad." He said, a polite smile on his face. I could see the wheels turning in his head, though. A backpack didn’t make up for missed promises, no matter how shiny it was.

"Are you gonna come tomorrow?" Ethan asked quietly, looking up at his father with those wide, hopeful eyes that always broke my heart. "For the first day of school?"

"Of course, buddy!" Matthew said without hesitation. He leaned down, crouching to their level and placing a hand on Ethan’s shoulder. "I wouldn’t miss it for the world! I’ll be there, bright and early."

I crossed my arms, leaning against the wall, watching this scene play out like it always did. Matthew was nothing if not consistent in his ability to make promises he couldn’t keep.

Before I could say anything, Hugh walked out of the kitchen, wiping his hands on a dish towel. His presence was calming, always steady and reassuring. He gave me a small, knowing smile before turning his attention to Matthew.

"Matthew." Hugh said, his voice polite but firm as he extended his hand.

"Hugh." Matthew replied, shaking it with the same rehearsed friendliness he used with clients.

They had met a handful of times, and while Matthew had never said anything outright, I could tell he wasn’t thrilled about another man stepping into the lives of his children.

The boys were still fawning over their backpacks when Ava and Oscar joined us in the living room. Ava smiled warmly at Mason, ruffling his hair.

"Nice backpack boys!"

Oscar stood beside Hugh, his tall frame giving him an almost protective air.

"You guys excited for school tomorrow?" he asked, nudging Ethan playfully. Ethan grinned full of excitement.

Matthew didn’t stay long. He never did. After about twenty minutes of small talk and handing out gifts, he was already looking at his watch. "Alright, I’ve gotta go." he said, standing up and straightening his suit. "But I’ll see you guys tomorrow, okay? Bright and early as I said!"

The boys hugged him, clinging to him like they always did, desperate for any time they could get with him. And just like that, he was gone.

I watched the door close behind him, and a familiar tightness settled in my chest. The boys turned back to their new backpacks, their excitement renewed, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that tomorrow would end in disappointment. Again.

Hugh caught my eye from across the room, sensing my unease. He walked over, his hand resting on the small of my back, and leaned in to whisper. "You okay?"

I sighed, rubbing my temples. "I don’t know. I want to believe him, but… I can’t keep letting the boys get hurt. Ethan’s starting to get it, Hugh. He knows when Matthew’s lying now."

Hugh’s expression softened, and he pulled me closer. "Hey, I’ll be there. We’ll be there. They won’t be alone. I promise."

I leaned into him, closing my eyes, letting his warmth seep into me. "I don’t know what I’d do without you."

"You’ll never have to find out, love." he whispered into my hair, kissing the top of my head.

The next morning, I woke up to the smell of pancakes. The house was already buzzing with energy, far earlier than I expected. I shuffled downstairs, still groggy, only to stop in my tracks at the sight that greeted me.

The living room was transformed. Balloons and streamers hung from the ceiling, and a colorful banner that read 'First Day of School!' stretched across the doorway. The kitchen table was covered in every breakfast food imaginable - pancakes, bacon, eggs, fruit, even little bowls of candy that Mason would definitely notice first.

I blinked, rubbing my eyes. "Hugh, did you…?"

He turned from the stove, grinning at me like a kid who had just pulled off the best surprise. "Figured we’d make it special."

Tears welled up in my eyes, unbidden, and I pressed a hand to my mouth. "I-I can’t believe you did all this!"

Hugh crossed the room in a few strides, pulling me into his arms.

"It’s their first day of school. Gotta make it a big deal, right?"

The kids came rushing down the stairs next, their faces lighting up at the sight. Ethan and Mason squealed in delight, darting between the living room and the kitchen like it was the best thing they had ever seen.

"This is awesome!" Ethan shouted, his eyes wide with excitement.

Ava grinned as she joined us at the table, patting the seat next to her for Mason, while Oscar laughed at his little brother’s excitement. "Told you Dad goes all out!" Oscar teased.

Hugh winked at me, flipping another pancake onto the stack.

"It's a big day. Gotta start it right!"

And it was. For a few precious moments, everything felt perfect. The kids were happy, the atmosphere light and joyous, and the worries from yesterday seemed far away.

But when we got to the school, reality came crashing back. We stood outside the classroom door, surrounded by other excited parents and their children, and the boys kept glancing toward the entrance. Waiting.

"Is Daddy coming?" Mason asked again, his voice laced with hope.

"He said he would." I murmured, though I wasn’t sure who I was trying to convince anymore.

The minutes ticked by, and the crowd around us thinned as more and more families said their goodbyes and headed inside. But Matthew never showed. And I could see the hope fading from Ethan’s eyes.

Hugh stepped forward, crouching down to their level. "Hey, guys.." he said, his voice soft but upbeat. "Your dad’s probably stuck at work, but that doesn’t mean today isn’t special. You’ve got all of us here, and we’re so proud of you. Right, Ava?"

Ava nodded, smiling warmly at Ethan. "You’re gonna rock it, Ethan! I just know it."

Oscar clapped Mason on the back, grinning. "And Mason, you better show them how it’s done, okay?"

Mason giggled, his spirits lifting, but Ethan was still quiet. Hugh reached out, gently tilting Ethan’s chin up. "You’re gonna be amazing today. And no matter what, we’re always here for you. Okay?"

Ethan swallowed, his eyes glistening a little, but then he nodded, managing a small smile. "Okay."

I pulled him into a hug, my heart aching for him. "I love you so so much, Ethan. You’re going to do great!"

Mason was next, clinging to my leg before I knelt down to hug him properly.

"Be good, okay? Listen to your teacher, and have fun. I love you so much!" He nodded eagerly, bouncing on his toes, the weight of disappointment not yet touching him the way it did Ethan.

We said our goodbyes to Ava and Oscar, sending them off to their own classes, before Hugh and I turned to leave. As we walked out of the school, my chest felt tight.

The weight of everything - the missed promises, the endless hope that Matthew would change, the constant pain in Ethan’s eyes - was pressing down on me harder than usual.

I could feel Hugh’s arm around my shoulders, warm and reassuring, but it wasn’t enough to chase away the hurt. We stepped out into the parking lot when I heard someone call my name.

"Y/n! Wait!"

I froze, my blood running cold as I turned to see Matthew jogging up the sidewalk, his suit jacket slightly askew, as if he had hurried over at the last minute.

My stomach twisted in knots.

Now?

After all this time, after the boys had gone inside? My hands balled into fists at my sides.

"I’m sorry!" Matthew said, breathless, holding up his hands in a placating gesture. "I got caught up at the office, but I’m here now. I didn’t want to miss it."

Something in me snapped. All the hurt, all the frustration, all the times he had let our boys down over the years, rushed to the surface. I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes, my vision blurring as they spilled over before I could stop them.

"You’re sorry?" I spat, the words escaping me in a choked sob. I stormed toward him, fists clenched, my body trembling with rage. "You missed it, Matthew! You missed everything! They went into class without you!"

He looked startled, stepping back as I shoved his chest. "Y/n, come on, I said I’m sorry- "

"Sorry doesn’t fix it!" I screamed, slamming my fists into his chest again, harder this time.

"Do you have any idea how much Ethan was looking for you? How many times he asked about you?! Mason kept asking when you’d get here, and you didn’t show up! You weren’t here, Matthew! Again!"

I kept hitting his chest, my tears flowing freely now. My voice was loud, too loud, but I didn’t care. The dam had broken, and everything I had bottled up for years came pouring out.

"You promised me! You promised them you’d be here, and you weren’t! You never are!"

Matthew tried to catch my wrists, his face pale, eyes wide. “Y/n, stop- "

But I couldn’t stop.

The pain of watching my boys be disappointed time and time again was too much.

"You don’t get it! You don’t get to swoop in at the last second and act like everything’s fine!" I sobbed, my fists still pounding against his chest until I felt Hugh’s hands gently but firmly wrap around me, pulling me back.

"Y/n.." Hugh’s voice was steady, his grip gentle but unyielding as he pulled me away from Matthew. "That’s enough."

I collapsed into Hugh’s chest, my body trembling as I sobbed, the fight draining out of me as quickly as it had come. Hugh held me close, one hand cradling the back of my head, while I clung to him, my tears soaking into his shirt. He rocked me gently, whispering soothing words I couldn’t quite make out, but the warmth of his embrace calmed me, slowly but surely.

Matthew, still standing a few feet away, looked completely stunned, his mouth opening and closing as if he didn’t know what to say. He ran a hand through his hair, trying to regain his composure.

"Look.. I’m sorry.." he said again, his voice weaker this time. "I really did try to make it.:

"That’s the problem, Matthew.." I whispered, my voice hoarse from crying. "You always try. But trying isn’t enough anymore."

Matthew’s face twisted with frustration. "I’m doing my best! It’s not like I’m trying to miss these things, you know. I have a job- "

"A job?!" I cut him off, my voice rising again despite myself. "I have a fucking job too! You think that’s an excuse? Ethan sees it, Matthew! He knows when you’re lying. And Mason? He’ll start seeing it soon too. They don’t care about your job. They care about you being here!"

Matthew clenched his jaw, his own frustration building.

"I don’t have the luxury of just playing house like you do, y/n! I have more responsibilities!"

"Playing house?" I laughed bitterly, shaking my head. "You have no idea what it's like to raise them. No idea what it feels like to watch their hearts break every time you don’t show up!"

"You don’t think I care?" Matthew shot back, his voice growing louder. "I’m doing the best I can with the time I have!"

"And it’s never enough.." I whispered, the fight leaving me again. I wiped at my eyes, exhausted.

"Hey." Hugh’s voice cut through the tension like a knife. His tone was sharp, but not raised. "That’s enough. You should be ashamed of yourself, Matthew."

As soon as Hugh said it, I saw Matthew’s posture change.

His eyes narrowed, his fists clenching at his sides. For a split second, I could see the switch flip in him, the smooth, collected persona cracking. Matthew wasn’t used to being challenged, especially not by someone like Hugh. Not by someone who had quietly stepped into the role Matthew had always fumbled.

"Excuse me?" Matthew’s voice was low, his eyes locked on Hugh. "Who the hell do you think you are?"

Hugh didn’t flinch.

He met Matthew’s glare head-on, his expression calm but firm.

"I think I’m the man who’s been here for your kids when you couldn’t be bothered to show up. And I’m telling you - what you’re doing is hurting them and y/n."

Matthew took a step forward, his face flushed with anger now. "You think you can just walk in and play daddy, huh? That you know what it’s like to juggle everything I do? You don’t get to stand there and judge me, Jackman."

I could feel the tension crackling between them, thick and heavy. Hugh was calm, still, like a rock against the storm that was Matthew’s rising temper.

My heart was pounding, the last remnants of my tears still clinging to my lashes as I watched, half-dazed from the emotional rollercoaster of the last few minutes.

Matthew sneered, stepping even closer. "You think you're so perfect, don’t you? Mr. Hollywood star, swooping in to save the day. You’re not their father. You’re nothing to them. Just a simple placeholder."

Hugh’s jaw tightened, and I saw the muscle twitch there. But he didn’t react the way Matthew clearly wanted him to. Instead, he exhaled slowly and said, "You’re right. I’m not their father. But I’m the one they can count on. I’m the one who’s here when they need someone. That’s what matters."

Matthew’s face twisted in frustration, his fists clenching tighter. He pointed at Hugh, his voice rising.

"You have no idea what it’s like to have your own life, your own responsibilities, and try to make time for everyone. It’s easy for you to stand there and act like the hero when you’ve got nothing else pulling you in a million directions!"

I stepped forward before Hugh could respond, my voice shaking with anger. "You think Hugh doesn’t have responsibilities? You think he doesn’t make sacrifices? He does all of this for our kids while you barely lift a finger! And you know what? He never complains! Never makes excuses. He just shows up. That’s what they need, Matthew - someone who shows up."

Matthew’s gaze flicked between me and Hugh, his expression growing darker by the second. He laughed sarcastically.

"You’re really going to take his side over mine, y/n? After everything?"

I scoffed, wiping the lingering tears from my eyes.

"I'm taking my sons’ side, Matthew. Because they deserve better than what you’re giving them. This isn’t about sides. It’s about what’s right for them."

Matthew again let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. "Unbelievable. You really think I don’t care, don’t you? That I don’t want to be there for them?"

"Well, If you wanted to be here, you would be." Hugh cut in, his voice sharp now, no longer willing to play nice.

"You wouldn’t be showing up late, making excuses, and disappointing them over and over. You’d be here, Matthew. It’s that simple."

"That simple?" Matthew’s voice was nearly a growl now.

"You have no idea what I go through - what I have to balance! It’s not as easy as you think, playing ‘Super Dad.’!" He stepped forward again, and for a second, I thought it might come to blows.

But Hugh, steady and calm, took a deliberate step forward too, closing the distance.

"As we said before.. It’s not about being perfect. It’s about being there. No one’s asking for you to be a superhero. They just want their dad to show up. You owe it to them to do better."

The tension between them felt like it was about to explode, and I could barely breathe, watching it unfold. I knew Matthew’s temper. I had seen it flare too many times. And I knew Hugh was protective, fiercely so, but not one to back down when it came to the people he loved.

Matthew’s nostrils flared, his fists still clenched at his sides.

"You think you’re so much better than me, don’t you? You think you can just walk into my life and replace me?"

Hugh’s gaze was steady, unwavering, but he couldn't help himself and let out a soft laugh.

"I don’t want to replace you, Matthew. But I won’t stand by and watch those boys get hurt because you can’t figure out your priorities."

I felt my body trembling again, but this time from the frustration and helplessness of it all. I had spent so long trying to protect my boys from this, trying to shield them from the disappointment of their father’s broken promises. And now, here it was, boiling over in front of me.

"Enough!" I yelled, my voice breaking as I stepped between them.

"This isn’t about either of you! It’s about Ethan and Mason. And I’m so tired of seeing them get hurt because you can’t keep your word."

Matthew blinked at me, his anger momentarily giving way to something else - something that looked like shame. But just as quickly, his walls went back up, and he shook his head, stepping back.

"This is ridiculous." he muttered, shoving his hands in his pockets. "I didn’t come here to be ganged up on."

I crossed my arms, feeling the weight of exhaustion press down on me.

"Then what did you come for, Matthew? Because if it wasn’t to be there for your sons before they go attend their very first day of school, I don’t see the point."

For a long moment, Matthew just stared at us, his jaw tight, his expression a mixture of anger and something else I couldn’t quite place. Then, without another word, he turned on his heel and stormed off down the sidewalk, leaving us standing there in the empty schoolyard.

I let out a shaky breath, my legs suddenly feeling like jelly as the weight of the moment caught up with me. Before I knew it, Hugh’s arms were around me again, pulling me close, holding me up as I leaned into him.

"You okay, love?" he whispered, his voice gentle, his hand rubbing soothing circles on my back.

I nodded, though I didn’t trust my voice just yet. The anger, the hurt, the frustration - it was all still swirling inside me, but Hugh’s presence, his steady calmness, helped anchor me.

"I'm sorry.." I whispered, wiping at my tear-streaked face. "I didn’t mean to… to lose it like that."

"Don’t apologize." Hugh said softly, kissing the top of my head. "You had every right to say what you did. He needed to hear it."

I took a deep breath, finally pulling back to look up at him.

"I just… I hate that this is what it’s come to. That the boys keep getting hurt like this."

"They have you." Hugh said, his voice firm but full of warmth. "And they have me. We’ll get through this."

I nodded, though my heart still ached. "Thank you." I whispered. "For everything. For being here."

Hugh smiled softly, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear.

"I’m always here, y/n. You and the boys - you’re my family too."

I felt a fresh wave of emotion wash over me, but this time, it was mixed with gratitude and love.

As we walked back to the car, hand in hand, I knew that no matter what happened with Matthew, no matter how many times he failed to show up, we would be okay. Because Hugh was right.

We had each other.

And that was enough.

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Tags: @angelofthorr @haytchee

#hugh jackman #wolverine #marvel #hugh jackman x you #x men #hugh #jackman #hugh jackman x reader #hugh jackman imagines #fluff #angst #dad #theson #f!reader

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merrybloomwrites · 2 months ago

Text

The Only Way of Knowing You (Chapter 1)

Story Summary: After a chance encounter, Y/N finds herself on a series of dates with Harry Styles. She shares with him her innocence regarding physical intimacy, and he takes his responsibility in teaching her all about that very seriously.

Chapter Summary: Y/N is overjoyed to head to the hospital to meet her new nephew, and ends up meeting Harry Styles as well.

Word Count: 1.7K

CW: mentions of people giving birth

AN: So excited to finally post this series! I've really enjoyed writing this and hope you'll all like it. Thank you to the anon who requested shy virgin reader!

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You’re anxiously waiting to get a text or a call from your brother-in-law. You’d spoken to your sister yesterday morning and she mentioned that she felt like she was having contractions and would probably be in labor soon. So casually! You figured that since this is her second baby she must be feeling more relaxed about the whole situation.

But that doesn’t stop you from worrying about her for the whole day and a half between that call and when your phone finally rings again, Brian’s name appearing on the screen. He’d been sending regular updates to you and your parents and the last one sent almost two hours ago just said “it’s time”.

So this call must mean your new nephew is finally born. You quickly grab the phone and answer the call.

“Brian, hi!”

“He’s here!” He exclaims. “Born at 1:35, 7 pounds, 2 ounces, 21 and a half inches long.”

“How is he doing? How is Kyra?”

“He’s perfect! Kyra did great, she’s resting at the moment. We'll send a picture soon. She asked that no one come this afternoon but we’d love for you to stop by tomorrow. Your parents are coming in the morning and bringing Wyatt to meet her little brother.”

“Ok great! I’ll talk to them and coordinate what time.”

“Awesome, you’re gonna love him! Listen I’ve got a couple more calls and I want to get back to them but I’ll talk to you later.”

“Bye Brian, give Kyra my love!”

“Will do, bye Y/N.”

You hang up and literally squeal with excitement and relief that he’s here and everyone is doing well. You let out another happy noise when you get a couple pictures from Brian. You’re immediately in love with this little boy, even if he looks like an alien/old man hybrid. You wish you knew his name, but your sister made it clear she is keeping it a secret until you and your parents meet him in person.

At 8PM your mom calls and you figure they just got Wyatt to sleep. You talk for a bit and make plans to all meet at the hospital the following morning at 11.

You’re so excited that it’s nearly impossible to fall asleep, but you manage. The next morning passes quickly, and suddenly it’s time to head to the hospital.

Once there you find your parents and your niece signing in and you do so as well. Finally, the four of you make your way to the right room. Just like when you met Wyatt nearly three years prior, you immediately fall in love with this little baby the second he’s placed in your arms.

“Everyone, meet Jasper Lucas,” your sister says.

For half an hour you all get to spend time with Jasper as well as check in on Kyra, who truthfully looks fantastic for having just given birth the day before. You and your parents step out in order to give the family of four some time together.

Your mom comments that she could use a coffee and your dad hastily agrees so they head off to the cafeteria. You figure they must not be used to taking care of a toddler and decide to go over and help out that evening.

They ask if you want anything and you decline, choosing to instead go into one of the family waiting rooms and check on a project for work.

The room is empty when you enter but after a minute you hear footsteps. Looking up from your phone, you’re shocked to see who just walked in.

Harry Styles casually sits in one of the other chairs. You subtly glance at him, noting his jeans and sweater combo, as well as the look of pure excitement on his face. After pointedly looking anywhere but at him for a moment you can't help but turn towards him again.

“Hi!” he says cheerfully when he notices you looking at him.

“Hello,” you manage to squeak out.

“I’m Harry,” he says, leaning towards you with his hand out.

“I’m Y/N,” you reply while politely shaking his hand, hoping you’re doing it right. Which is wild because you;ve shaken hands with people hundreds of times but like, this is Harry Styles.

“My sisters just had a baby,” he adds, and now you understand why he’s practically vibrating with glee.

“Congratulations! Mine has as well. Is this Gemma’s first?” You realize a second later how creepy you now sound, using his sister's name when he hadn’t even told it to you.

Before you can apologize he laughs and says, “Yes, her first. So you know who I am then?”

“I mean, I don’t live under a rock so yes, I am aware that you’re Harry Styles.”

“Can you do me a favor then, love?”

You nod, willing to do anything he asks, especially if he continues to use such sweet terms of endearment like ‘love’.

“Gems kept this whole pregnancy private, and isn’t planning to announce she’s had a baby for a few weeks. I probably should’ve kept my mouth shut, but I just had to tell someone. Can you help keep this a secret and not let anyone know about the baby?”

“Oh of course, yea, secret’s safe with me.”

“I appreciate it. We may be adults now, but I think I’ll always fear the wrath of my big sister,” he says with another laugh. “Is this your sister's first as well?” he asks.

“No, I have a niece, Wyatt, she turns three next month,” you reply.

“And this little one, boy or girl?”

“Boy. His name is Jasper. My sister always said she wanted one girl and one boy so I guess she got her wish.”

You refrain from asking him the same question, not wanting to look like you're asking for personal information about his family, but he apparently doesn’t feel that way because he says, “Gemma had a girl. The tiniest little thing. I think. At least she looks that way in the picture.”

“You haven’t been able to see them yet?”

“Not quite, they needed a few more minutes before they were ready. Our mum’s in there with her, has been the whole time, so I’ve been anxiously waiting on my own.

“I feel that. I was the same way the past couple of days.”

“Well at least we have each other now, I feel much less jittery being able to talk to you,” he says.

“Glad I could help. People say I’m an excellent conversationalist.”

“Oh I can see that already, I’m quite enjoying this conversation.”

Just then Harry’s mum, Anne, walks into the room.

“Harry dear, they’re ready for you,” she says, giving you a quick smile before she walks out again.

He jumps out of his seat and says, “Sorry to cut it short, but-”

“Not a problem! Go, meet your niece. Bet she’ll be very happy to meet her Uncle Harry,” you reply.

“Would you want to keep talking? Later?”

You look at him, confused. “I’m not sure how long I’m going to be at the hospital.”

“Oh, no, I didn’t mean here. I just meant, maybe we could meet again, some other time. At some other place. Preferably with better coffee.”

“Are you asking me to hang out with you at a coffee shop?” you inquire, wanting to make sure you fully understand what is happening.

“I am. Sorry, it’s been a while since I’ve actually asked someone on a date, guess I’m a tad rusty.”

Your eyes go wide at the word ‘date’. You were already perplexed, wondering why he’d want to hang out with you as friends, but making it a date?

Your mouth works faster than your brain, and before you can really think through your answer, you hear yourself saying, “I’d love to get coffee with you.”

“Fantastic! Here, write your number in my phone and I’ll text you to set something up,” he replies while unlocking and handing over his phone. You’re practically on autopilot typing in your info and handing the phone back to him.

“I should go, I’ve got a niece to meet. It really was lovely chatting with you.”

“I agree. Say congrats to your sister for me!”

“I will, please say the same to your sister.”

“Of course,” you reply.

“Goodbye Y/N. I’ll talk to you soon.

“Looking forward to it. Goodbye Harry.”

With one last shy smile, he walks out of the room, leaving you standing there feeling rather shell shocked. You don’t have long to dwell before your own mother pops back in saying Kyra is ready for you all to go back.

You spend another hour there before leaving to go out and get some lunch. While you’re at a local restaurant, trying to encourage Wyatt to eat her lunch rather than play with it, you get a text from Brian saying Kyra and the baby will be discharged later that afternoon.

After lunch you go to their house and entertain Wyatt while your parents make sure everything is clean and ready for them to come home. Brian, Kyra, and Jasper arrive just before dinner, so you stay to make sure everyone eats and is as content as possible.

You leave after cleaning the dishes, knowing everyone is ready to settle down for the evening. Back home you hop in the shower, and when you get out, you have a text from an unknown number. It reads, “Hello, Y/N, it’s Harry.”

Your eyes go wide and you let out a nervous giggle. Honestly, there’s a part of you that thought you had hallucinated the interaction this afternoon, but here’s proof that it all really happened. Before you can type back you get another message from him saying, “If you’re not busy, how would you feel about getting coffee this Saturday? Say 1PM at Inkwell Cafe?”

“Sounds perfect,” you reply. Your phone dings again a second later and you read, “See you then! Have a great rest of your week.” After sending a quick “You as well!” you toss your phone to the side.

You get into bed, and reflect for a moment on everything that happened since getting up that morning. You knew it’d be a wonderful day; how could it not when you got to finally meet your perfect nephew?

But to have met one of your favorite celebrities and now have a date with him? Never in a million years would you have guessed the day would end this way. You fall asleep feeling like the luckiest person in the world.

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

AN: Thank you so much for reading! I hoped you liked this chapter and can't wait to share the rest!

#harry styles x you #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader

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munson-blurbs · 10 months ago

Note

Tui request?? Eddie gains a little weight after the baby is born and Ms heart looks amazing post baby and Eddie becomes sort of self conscious and Mrs sweet heart shows Eddie how much she loves his dad bod

Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!ReaderSeries

Summary: When Eddie starts feeling insecure about his newfound dad bod, you make sure to prove how sexy you think he is.

Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), oral (m! receiving), p in v, breeding kink, Reader breastfeeds (no lactation kink), mention of weight gain and a "junk food diet"

WC: 1.7k

A/N: Thank you to @jo-harrington for helping me with the pacing and to @corroded-hellfire for help with the dialogue!

Eddie Munson thought you were stunning the night you met at the Hideout. On your wedding day, he surmised that he was marrying the prettiest woman in the world. And when you got pregnant with Hendrix—especially once your bump became more prominent—he’d sworn up and down that you couldn’t possibly get more beautiful if you tried.

That statement, of course, is easily refuted by his current sight of you with six-month-old Hendrix nestled into your chest. You gently move the rocking chair back and forth as the baby drinks from your breast, your shirt hiked up so he can easily latch onto your nipple. You wince slightly as he suckles, though it isn’t nearly as painful as when you’d first begun nursing him.

“He’s getting so chunky,” you muse, running your finger over the roll that’s formed on his little wrist. You look at your husband to gauge his reaction, your smile fading when you see his distant expression. “Hey, what’s going on?”

“Nothing.” It’s a blatant lie, and you both know it.

You sigh, carefully adjusting your position to sit forward a bit. Hendrix is unfazed, too focused on his lunch. “Tell me the truth. You know I always find out, anyway.”

“You’re right,” Eddie agrees with a small laugh. There’s no sense in trying to hide it, not when you can read him like a book. “Guess, um, guess I’ve just been noticing that Hendrix isn’t the only one putting on weight lately.” He looks down at his stomach guiltily.

A delicate frown tugs your lips downward; you notice for the first time that he’s wearing a jacket despite the warm May weather. “So? You’re adjusting to being a father of two. Instead of both of us taking care of only Harris, we now need man-to-man coverage.”

“Yeah, but you’re fuckin’ gorgeous,” he protests. Your pregnancy glow has carried over to a new-mom glow, despite the exhaustion. Christ, you even make sleep deprivation look good. “And you’re the one who had the baby.”

“Eds,” you say softly, the weight of his statement heavy on your shoulders, “you spent my entire pregnancy and this post-partum hell reassuring me that you loved every version of my body. Why wouldn’t I feel the same way about yours?” Hendrix has stopped eating, so you fix your shirt and prop him up to burp him.

He shrugs, cheek pinched between his teeth to stifle emotion. “I dunno, I just…” he exhales long and loud as he searches for the right phrasing. “Your body made life; mine made the decision to eat chicken nuggets and mac ‘n cheese off of Harris’s plate instead of vegetables.”

You offer a hint of a smile at his humor, though his words are laced with true insecurity. “Let me put this little man down for his nap and show you just how incredible that body of yours is.” There’s a mischievous glint in your eyes when you stand, the baby satiated and ready for his midday sleep. Harris is at Charlie’s house for a playdate, which means you and Eddie essentially have the afternoon to yourselves.

Hendrix’s milk-drunk state has him falling asleep quickly, and you take Eddie’s hand and lead him to the bedroom. As soon as the door shuts, your arms are draped over his shoulders, and you press your torso to his. You give his earlobe a little nibble before bringing your lips to his neck.

“You know what I see when I look at you?” you start, letting your hands rest on his biceps. “I see the arms that carry our boys to bed every night.” You leave a delicate kiss on the spot you just mentioned before gently pulling off his shirt. “And your chest is perfect for any of us to rest on.” Another kiss, this one received with a shiver.

He shakes his head. “‘S not how I used to look,” he responds guiltily. “When I was younger, I lived off of Doritos and Mountain Dew–didn’t gain an ounce. Guess it’s catching up to me now,” he grimaces, giving his belly a little pinch.

You intercept the motion, gently pushing his hands from his stomach. “Did I know I love this tummy most of all?” When he cocks a disbelieving brow, you smile and elaborate. “It reminds me that you don’t have to settle for a junk food diet anymore. We’ve created a little home with safety, love, and delicious food. I mean, you could do some sit-ups, I guess, but…” you shrug, scrunching your nose as you say the words, “I kinda like having a little something extra to hold onto.”

“Really?” He still doesn’t allow himself to fully accept this truth, so you try another method.

“Really,” you affirm, pulling him in for another deep kiss. “I need you,” you growl, your core already flooded with need at the prospect of worshiping him. “Need you so bad.”

Eddie moans under his breath when you suck a bruise just above his collarbone. His hands grip your hips to tug you even closer, and you can feel him stiffen in his jeans. With a knowing grin, you drop to your knees and leave a hickey right next to his navel.

“You are,” you mumble against his skin, fingers coaxing open his pants button, “ridiculously sexy. ‘S not fair.” You unzip him, pulling down his jeans and boxers in one swift motion. His erection stands at attention, and you intend to show him plenty of it; but you have one last item on your agenda. “Eds, this ass? God, I could bite it all day.” You giggle as you lean around to sink your teeth into the meat of it, and he yelps in surprise. “Only want you, Eddie,” you say, now looking up into his eyes. “Only ever wanna make you feel good.”

“Oh, fuck,” Eddie groans, throwing his head back as you flatten your tongue and lick the underside of his shaft. “Thassit; take your time, Sweetheart.”

You take the tip between your lips, swiping at the pre-cum already dripping from it. Slowly, you allow more and more of him in your mouth until your nose brushes his pubic hair.

“Mhm. Kee-Keep going, mmf, little faster now.”

You eagerly oblige, swirling your tongue in that way that drives him wild; sure enough, you feel his thigh twitch next to your cheek. You assumed he would finish in your mouth, and you look up at him in confusion when he pulls out of it.

“I gotta…fuck…gotta be inside that tight pussy of yours.” He grabs himself at the base, eyes begging for you to let him in.

You shed your clothes and toss them in a heap on the floor, walking towards him and pushing him onto the bed. He grins when you straddle his waist and kiss his lips hungrily.

“Gonna take care of you tonight, Eds,” you coo, grinding your wet center over the ridges of his cock. “You always make me feel amazing, honey. I wanna return the favor.”

Eddie nods, adjusting his hard-on so you can sink onto it, enveloping him in your warmth. He stretches you perfectly, and you let him know with a pleased moan.

“Oh, fuck,” he hisses, nails digging into the flesh of your ass. “I’ll never get tired of that feeling.”

“Good,” you smirk, letting him bottom out before you begin moving again. His grip stabilizes you enough to ride him, rolling your hips teasingly. Your lips are beckoned by his chest tattoo, and you plant kisses all over it. “Mine.” You claim him with that one word, and he gives himself to you fully.

You sit back up to bounce on him, his hands reaching for your breasts and gently cupping them. A whine emanates from your throat as he thrusts up into you with more rigor.

“Kiss me?” he pleads, lifting one hand to clasp around the back of your head, bringing your face closer to his. There’s no need to ask twice; you lean in and kiss him passionately,

As much as you want to take the lead, you can’t deny how incredible it feels when he thrusts upwards. You whine pathetically as he drives his cock deeper within you.

“Take it so well, Sweetheart,” he grunts, pinning down your thighs. “Got me tempted to knock you up all over again.”

His words have you clenching around him, your breaths shallow. You brace yourself on his chest, moaning out his name.

“Eddie, your body,” you whimper, unable to complete the sentence. Your mind is too focused on your building orgasm.

“What about it, honey?”

You take as much of a breath as you can. “Your body makes me feel so fucking good.”

“Prove it,” he growls. “Cum for me. Cum all over my cock.”

Pleasure washes over you, his length brushing against your sweet spot and driving you over the edge. “I-I’m cumming—”

“Mmf, m-me, too—fuck!” Eddie’s eyes roll as he finishes, pumping you full of his release. He pounds into you, draining himself completely.

You lay on top of him until he whispers in your ear, “Sweetheart? I gotta pull out.” Sure enough, he’s gone completely soft, absolutely spent.

All you can manage is an mmh, pouting when he withdraws. Eddie laughs kindly and kisses you, one hand cupping your cheek.

“Have I ever told you that you’re the best wife in the world?” he asks, nose gently nudging yours. “Not just because of all that—which was phenomenal, by the way. Five stars.” You swat at him and he laughs harder. “I feel so…safe when I’m with you.”

Your lips ghost the tip of his nose. “You are safe with me,” you remind him. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” he says, holding you as close as he can. He pauses for a beat before speaking again. “Can I ask you something?”

“‘Course.”

Eddie clears his throat. “That thing about liking when there’s something to, um, ‘hold onto,’” he starts, cheeks filling in pink, “did you mean that?”

It’s your turn to kiss him passionately, lips parted, tongue grazing his. You roll your hips again, fingertips brushing the soft side of his torso. It reignites the fire within him; his cock twitches slightly.

“Does that answer your question?”

#eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #fanfic #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things #tui

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yourmomxx · 1 year ago

Text

➵ angels talking - social media au | ln4 (1)

❥pairing - lando norris x fem!singer!reader (mentions of al12 x reader)

❥plot - Arthur Leclerc has been your best friend since your early childhood, you two grew up with each other and each other's families. Your closeness leads to fans suspecting there is more to your relationship, until, almost suddenly, the ball gets totally flipped

❥warnings - none, maybe ooc arthur leclerc sorry abt that

part i - the start | part ii - the number four

masterlist | requests

⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

♔꙳⋆ instagram ꙳⋆

yourusername posted a new story

formula2pics

liked by howaboutyoudont, emilyclarke and others

formula2pics @/yourusername & @/arthurleclerc outside the ‘Sweet Sugars’-Café last night in Silverstone, England, present to support Arthur’s brother, Charles Leclerc at the Formula 1 Grand Prix

Picture submitted by unknown source

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ynlnn look me in the eye and tell me they’re not in love

paddockgirl favorite couple

sidney(tv) they’re so cute together

bella.ltn supportive besties

itsbrutalouthere I just KNOW that they're dating

jojo.jpg childhood best friends to lovers, angst and fluff, 156k words slow burn

tswizzle definition of made for each other

leclersbabe arthur❤️❤️

mollym my favs

hotchswife can’t wait to see them in the paddock

itsellie anyone saw that picture in yns story if arthur?

↳ kaynwe @/itsellie omg yes he looked so good😍

↳ kellykiwi @/kaynwe the veins, the hair, the way he smiled at her?? just ugh😩

ferrariyn i’m just waiting for their relationship announcement

untitled they would be the cutest couple ever let’s be honest

exscapenight mom and dad actually

larinakali i miss them posting each other😭

yourusername

liked by formula2pics, oliviarodrigo and others

yourusername serious competitors since ‘08😎

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ynbabe new song featuring arthur??

lnfave desperately clinging to yns posts since arthur doesn’t show her on his feed😩

charthurleclerc not my favorite wag posting about my favorite driver

↳ amslerin @/charthurleclerc she’s no wag tho

suziesalmon hope you crushed him girly

↳ yourusername @/suziesalmon of course i did

tswizzle @/arthurleclerc take her as an example and give us some yn/arthur posts!!!

ynisbabe please baby arthur is so cute

carolyn she is feeding us with content

´lanadelslay this is a soft launch, actually (I'm delulu)

f1updates how much you wanna bet they were playing mario kart

paddockgirl they would be such a sweet couple tho

hazelnuts yn putting her entire soul into the karaoke while arthur doesn’t even know what to do is so funny to me

factorfic YES a new yn and arthur post, i manifested this

sabrinajenga your honor they’re in love

ferraridriveracademy

liked by arthurleclerc, frederic_vasseur1 and others

ferraridriveracademy Congrats to @/olliebearman and @/arthurleclerc on a Double Podium in Barcelona this afternoon!👏🏆

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leclersgirl whooo! arthur finally got the podium he deserved!!

hamiltonh so proud of them!

tom.oha these two are really some good drivers. i’m sure if they keep up their work they have much potential for f1!

charlesleclerc 🔥🔥

lucasclare so proud of my boys

sidney(tv) i literally screamed when they won, i’m so happy!!

interstellarfan123 that one penalty for frederick was so unnecessary

cheesestrings my two husbands

↳ suziesalmon @/cheesestrings they’re married to me wdym?

kaynwe the both worked so hard for this, i’m so glad

tangledinu sometimes i think about the fact that arthur has those huge footsteps of charles to fill, and that ollie seems to achieve everything that was expected of arthur

↳ isobella @/tangledinu that’s not fair you’re making me sad

sabrinajenga admin can you ask arthur for me where yn was today?

↳ realobama @/sabrinajenga was literally about to say the same thing

arthurleclerc

liked by olliebearman, ferraridriveracademy and others

arthurleclerc Thank you, Barcelona, for welcoming us greatly and for the support! 2nd place baby, yes!!❤️

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itsbrutalouthere arthur where is yn???

charlesleclerc such a great race man, really proud of you!🙌

lucasclare was really worried for you there in turn 7, but you managed it amazingly!!

suziesalmon why wasn’t yn in the paddock this weekend?

bimess you deserve this so much arthur!!

arthurfave can’t wait to be there live in abu dhabi

factorfic yn didn’t even like what’s happening

↳ hotchswife @/factorfic her phone probably fell in a river and that’s why she doesn’t have access to instagram (i’m delulu)

leclersbabe i am so happy for you!!

professorproton boy you better have a good explanation why yn wasn’t there, and you better have it now🤺🤺

forzaferrari miss seeing mom😢

frederickvestiofficial well done mate!

kellykiwi happy for your win, but where is yn?

itsellie hoping mom is just busy songwriting somewhere🤭

hamiltonh none of the post-race ask the real questions! for example, what did they change about the car, or WHERE THE HELL IS YN

ynbabe mom and dad are going through their divorce era?

f1news

liked by howaboutyoudont, lanadelslay and others

f1news YN YLN, famous singer and actress is reportedly in a close relationship with a Formula Racing Driver, a source claims - it is not revealed who it is. Fans have been asking themselves many questions after the long weeks of radio silence between childhood best friends YN YLN and Arthur Leclerc, the Ferrari Pilot for Formula 2

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reidbabe guys, i think this is it

hslot_forreal if it’s not Arthur i might throw myself in front of a car

tswizzle i’m conflicted i want it to be arthur so bad but at the same time their media hasn’t seemed right to me for ages now

liladonavan manifesting arthur x yn

ferrariyn that source better come clean i can’t take all this anticipation any more👏👏

↳ larinakali @/ferrariyn real.

sylviestone “dating a racing driver, won’t tell you who tho”

↳ jojo.jpg @/sylviestone😭😭

ynn1fan off topic but that’s a great picture of her

hannamountana no because i don’t know, i want it to be arthur so bad but at the same time idk mann

↳ emilyzkn @/hannahmountana i totally agree especially with her posting so much of him but him never posting her like what is going on there

↳ papayagirl @/emilyzkn their relationship has been off for such a long while tbh

exscapenight hoping arthur made a move before someone else did

↳ peppyi @/exscapenight no because watch someone else pulling her away from under arthur’s feet just because he was being a coward

yourusername

liked by sabrinacarpenter, oscarpiastri and others

yourusername paddock days🧡

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ferrarifan1 GIRL

landonorrizzzzzzz am i tripping or is that the wrong team???

maxfewtrell thought i saw a gremlin on the grid today🤔

↳ urfafdaydreamer @/maxfewtrell LMAO MAX WHAT

↳ yourusername @/maxfewtrell didn’t know they had mirrors all over the paddock??

↳ untitled @/yourusername what’s happening.

ynisbabe you’re so stunning

ynn1fan MOM WHAT ARE YOU DOING WITH THE MAILMAN

↳ leclersgirl @/ynn1fan THE MAILMAN IM CRYING

christiek 🧩🧩

therealobama nuh uh this feels wrong

charthurleclerc why weren’t you at arthur’s race??

sabrinacarpenter aah my love

ynwife girl is so pretty i can’t

tswizzle this is not the ferrari box??

strongandeuropean what are you doing at mclaren?

emilyzkn “reportedly dating a racing driver”

↳ hannahmountana @/emilyzkn i wish i understood math this fast

lucadevil papaya looks good on her

norisswife Is that Oscar in the likes that I see????

lanadelslay excited where this is going, honestly

♔꙳⋆ twitter ꙳⋆

♔꙳⋆ instagram ꙳⋆

landonorris

liked by sabrinacarpenter, oscarpiastri and others

landonorris paddock days

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oscarpiastri oh man

ynlnnn nuh uh

therealdannyric explanation??

norriswife he’s so beautiful

lnfave lando side profile >>>

ynisbabe guys is this it??

formula1obsessed last lap lando? more like last SLIDE lando

lastlaplando oh my god if this is yn i will actually scream

33maxverstappen that backside looks very familiar to me…

↳ melany @/33maxverstappen that must sound so strange out of context

carlaarcher this can’t be a coincidence

getthismanachair lando who is that??🎤

norisswife first Oscar in yn's likes and now Sabrina in Lando's?? what are the besties doing here?!

andystricks caption looks awfully familiar

itsbrutalouthere praying for a statement in these desperate times🙏

urfavdaydreamer soft launch??

hardlyanything lando let me see your spotify wrapped please👀

yourusername

liked by danielricciardo, lukehemmings and others

yourusername with great dread i have to announce that i, indeed, fell in love with a man- and also, that this picture was taken right after the first date

tagged: landonorris

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landonorris i can almost feel your love for me through that caption😍

↳ yourusername @/landonorris 😙😙

sabrinacarpenter babes

oscarpiastri guess we won't hear the end of this ever

↳ danielricciardo @/oscarpiastri I will help you through this, mate

danielricciardo run as long as you can yn, i promise i won’t tell him where you went

↳ hannahmountana @/danielricciardo LMAO DANNY

oliviarodrigo so cute!!

kathrynnewton parents?

emilyzkn NO WAY

lanadelslay LETs GO GIRL

ynlnn THE SONGS GUYS I REPEAT THE SONGS

lilli(taylor's version) NEW FAVORITE WAG

landonorrizzzzzzz ARTHUR LECLERC WHO IS ARTHUR LECLERC I ONLY KNOW LANDO NORRIS

kellypiquet so excited to see you in the paddock more often😍😍

howaboutyoudont Lando noRIZZ what a LIEEEEEE

jojo.jpg gurl you so lucky!!!

hotchnerswife we're getting boyfriend Lando I can't believe it

f1news wish you all the best!!

suziesalmon the way she looks at him i. can. not.

↳ iknewyouweretrouble @/suziesalmon girly fell hardddd

charthurleclerc literally my two worlds colliding i can't breathe

bella.ltn caption so true

tswizzle they already feel like such a power couple i cannot

kathrynamy HARDEST LAUNCH TO EVER HARD LAUNCH

606 notes · View notes

nsharks · 2 years ago

Text

bleeding blue | apocalypse au

part nine —other parts

pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!reader words: 3.2k tags: death. blood. zombies of course. reader menstruates. single dad ghost. there will be sex but it isn't here yet. slow burn!!! enemies to lovers. summary: After losing your companions, you run into a skull-masked man and his daughter. They are your last hope for survival. a/n: no comment

The beam gave a nasty cut to your hand.

Tetanus, blood, infections— more threats.

You sit on a rock by the river to fix it up. Before you can dab on the hydrogen peroxide from your new med kit, Blue insists on doing it for you— soft fingertips against your broken skin. She is by far a gentler nurse than her father. You focus on her pink cheeks and scrunched nose as she concentrates. It helps you ignore the sting.

"You scared the shit out of me for a second there, Twix.”

"Sorry. I guess I need to work on my balance."

She gives a stilted laugh. The gauze comes next, just a thin layer since the bleeding has already stopped.

"Thanks for asking him to help me," you add in a whisper. You smile. "I don't think I've ever had a friend save my life so many times."

Blue cuts the gauze and begins tying it off. "I didn't actually have to ask him this time, you know. Like I said, he doesn’t hate you.”

You glance to where Ghost has taken the short break to lean against a tree and drink some water, pale jaw and pink lips exposed. An actual human hides under all that gear and horrifying mask. It annoys you that he doesn't just take it off.

You look back at her, eyes rolling. “You're lying."

She closes the med kit and shrugs. “Friends don't lie."

The afternoon sun bleeds white light over your cheeks as the three of you keep walking. Just meters away from the river, Ghost points out a small cabin. One that hunters used back in the day, you bet. He says it could be a good place to stay for the night. The scent of the rushing water nearby should do some to mask your human scent.

Rolling hills take place of the trees. To the west, you can see the faint outline of mountains dipped in white snow. Well, as much of mountains as you can find in England. They are not nearly as tall as the ones your parents used to take you skiing to in France.

You grow quiet and let Blue do all the talking. Maybe you are embarrassed after almost falling into the river.

Just when she asks - How much further? - something strange pops up in the distance. White medical tents— well, you assume they were once white. They are now torn and grey, with some blue crates beneath them. Confusion swells in your chest and you can't help but speak up.

"Why is this all here?" you ask, your boots stepping over some stray medical tools. Scalpels, tweezers, and syringes. Pressed into the rich earth like fossils. You would pick them up if they weren't rusted past the point of being useful.

"I don't know," Blue answers. "Ghost?"

"Emergency medical camp the military set up," he says.

"After shit happened?" she asks.

He gives a curt nod as he looks around at the remnants. "Those that were left were tryin' to help survivors in the first few days. Didn't last long, though."

"Is that what your friends were doing after you ditched them?"

"Told you, kid. They weren't my friends."

"Alright, teammates. Whatever. Were they helping with injured people here?" she asks curiously.

"A few of them were.”

Blue looks at you. "Twix, did I ever tell you about that?"

"Um. About what?"

"Well, Ghost was supposed to be working when shit happened," she raises her brows and juts a thumb at him. "But he snuck away from his post to get all our stuff and come find me and my mum."

You swallow at the mention of her mom and avoid looking at Ghost. "Snuck away?"

"Yeah," she nods, "It's called dessert."

"Desertion," he gruffly corrects her.

"What?" you ask.

"He abandoned his assignment," she explains. "But he always says he would do it again if he had to. Anyway, he used to talk to his teammates on his radio to see how they were and stuff— what was happening. But then they got too far away for it to work."

Of course Ghost had a radio.

Paul had one, too. You can remember huddling around that radio like it was a mouthpiece for some god. The static grew choppier and choppier over the first few days. The channels dwindled. Eventually, it stopped working altogether and you didn't learn much about what happened in the outside world. You did learn that London was one of the quickest cities to succumb to the infection. Then, Paris, Bangkok, and Chicago.

Everywhere.

You process the new information as you keep walking through the tents, peering into some opened crates to see if anything is left— nothing is.

Now you know Ghost left his post when he found out about the virus. He stocked up on supplies and then got Blue and her mom. By the way Blue mentions her, it must be an old loss. How long did her mother survive with them, then? Did she use to live in the cabin with them?

You don’t know why your stomach grows tight, but the questions in your brain fade once the military base comes into view.

"Finally," Blue sighs rather dramatically.

A high, chain-link fence surrounds the place. There are a few buildings and some abandoned vehicles that look like jeeps. The fence has multiple gaps cut into it so climbing is unnecessary. Ghost leads the way. You continue sniffing the air. With your bandaged hand, you keep your bow poised and subconsciously walk closer to their footsteps.

Ghost takes you to the main building in the center. The British flag flutters beside it on a pole, faded and as meaningless as the one sewn on Ghost’s bicep.

"Are we going through the barracks again this time?" Blue perks up.

"We have to go through 'em to get to the armory,” he says.

"Cool. There might be some good shit left behind."

There isn't much good shit, actually.

You don't know what the other military base they went to was like, but this one is unsettling and seems to be ransacked. Sunlight pours in through the shattered windows. Scattered papers and strewn bones decorate the tile floors. Thick cobwebs hang in the corners.

As you walk through the hallway of old dorms, Blue and Ghost stop looking in them after the first four turn out to contain only tipped-over cots, walls smeared with old blood, and even a few scampering vermin that make her yelp and grab hold of Ghost's arm.

He grows stiffer than usual. You don’t have to pry off the skull mask to know what he is thinking. Ghost is not the only person who thought of coming here. If these rooms are mostly empty, then what is left in the armory?

Still, you check out a few more of them on your own as they walk up ahead. You rummage through closets and drawers. You find three pairs of men's socks. More useful than one might think.

In one room, you kneel down by the unkempt cot to dig a black backpack out from under it. You can’t believe that Ghost, as big as he is, ever slept on these things. The backpack’s zipper catches as you try to open it, the metal teeth rusted, so you cut a hole in the fabric with your knife. Inside, you find another military-grade knife to add to your arsenal and some wrapped ready-to-eats.

When you check the closet, the sight of a full skeleton causes you to jump back in a startled step, a few rats running out between your boots.

"Oh, fuck," you mutter, noticing a bullet hole in the skull. A handgun lies beside the body, but you discover the magazine to be empty. Whatever bullet it once had was likely spent on this person's suicide. You stick it in your bag, anyway. A preserved uniform hangs loose on the bones. There is a mouth-sized tear in the forearm of the right sleeve, fitting for a bite. In the breast pocket, a silver chain spills out. Curiously, you grab it. A dog tag with an engraved name catches the light. John MacTavish. You run a thumb over the letters.

“Sorry, John.”

You decide to respectfully put it back in the pocket, and head out, satisfied enough with your modest finds. It’s not like you own as much as Ghost does. You leave the room and run to catch back up with them.

"You okay? Find anything?" Blue asks.

"Not much," you quietly admit. "A knife and some new socks."

"Finally. Your old ones are starting to stink," she remarks with a playful smirk.

You scrunch your nose at her, making a face. “Gee, thanks."

She returns the teasing gesture just before Ghost’s arm ushers her behind him.

The moment he does, your guard rises back up. You slap an arrow onto your bow. You smell them before you see them. Four - no, five - drag out of opened doorways up ahead along with a cacophony of whistled moans. Most are still dressed in the same military uniforms as the skeleton you found. One isn't wearing anything at all. It’s disgusting.

Ghost doesn't bother to let Blue practice this time.

He shoots the faster, fresher one first as it runs up to them. For the slower ones, he saves his ammo and opts for the axe. The sight of him effortlessly striking their skulls is almost enough to distract you. Almost. Your fingers release the string and send a headshot to the last one. It is a perfect shot. An arrow straight through the milky-white eye. One of your best.

You meet his eyes just as he slips the axe back to his waist, shooting him a raised brow. The two of you hold an awkwardly long stare-off. Though you loathe to admit it, you hope for some type of approval - for once - but all he gives is a short nod.

Blue retrieves the arrow for you and you tuck it back into your quiver.

"Great aim, Twix," she quips. "Where did you learn how to use your bow?"

"My old friend taught me a bit," you say as the three of you step over the fallen corpses.

"What was his name again?"

"Paul."

"Oh, right." She pauses, and then: "Were you having sex with him?"

"Jesus Christ, kid," Ghost says.

"What?" She peers up at him.

Before he can say anything else, you answer with a light flush crawling up your neck, “No, I wasn’t. He was just my friend.”

The three of you make it to the armory.

The aluminum door is already parted open. Ghost clicks on a flashlight and gives the room a quick sweep of fluorescent light before entering.

A number of pried-open crates and olive-green cabinets litter the inside. Drawers hang open like a tornado ripped through. A few stray rifles lay scattered on the floor. Ghost picks up each one and checks for cartridges. Empty. Each rifle is thrown back on the floor with more force than the previous. He needs more ammo, not more guns.

Whatever was in this armory is gone. This truth hangs heavy in the air. The mood shifts. Blue doesn’t talk. Billows of growing frustration roll off Ghost's body as he continues to search through every crevice and every drawer for almost an hour.

You know what he is feeling, even if he half-expected this.

It is a feeling that made you cry in the empty pharmacy. For Ghost, it ends up driving a clenched fist into one of the cabinets, dented metal left in its wake. He swears explosively. Another shudder runs through your spine, stealing your breath, but it feels far different from the one his soft voice invited.

"Is there... is there anywhere else we can check, Dad?" Blue speaks up softly. “Maybe in all those cars outside?”

He takes a moment to breathe before answering. "We don't have time to check ‘em all.”

“Well, maybe we could come back in the morning and look a bit more?”

“Maybe,” he says, but you read the tone in his voice. It is unlikely there is ammo left in the vehicles, and even if there is, it is definitely not as much as he was hoping to have found in here.

Before leaving, he stuffs one of the rifles in his backpack. An uncomfortable silence consumes the journey back through the hall.

You make it outside again. The afternoon has aged. You need to get back to that hunting cabin by the river before the threat of dark.

Ghost guides you back towards the fence.

You hear Blue's soft humming. The flap of the old flag. Your own steady heartbeat.

And then, out of nowhere, he stops and grabs Blue's arm to bring her to a halt beside him. He looks around. Confused, you scan the view up ahead of you, but all that is there are a few of those military jeeps and the fence you entered through. You sniff the air. It doesn't smell particularly awful.

Then, the cause for Ghost's unease arrives loud in your ears.

A single gunshot sounds from a direction you can't discern. Your heart stutters. The suddenness freezes you for a moment. In your peripheral, you think you catch a brush of movement in some bushes to your right.

Ghost quickly pulls Blue behind one of the vehicles for cover. Only when you feel the rush of another bullet whizzing past your shoulder do your legs finally move— so fast that your feet catch on the ground and you stumble down beside them. Your knees dig into the earth as you land on your hands, but you quickly lift up and press your shoulder against the side of the car.

You choke. "Ghost… people."

People are fucking shooting at us, is what you mean to say. Panic steals your voice.

Who? How many?

Another bullet ricochets off the other side of the car, clanking against the metal. And then another. Glass shatters.

Ghost doesn't respond to you. Underneath the loud sounds, a soft voice whimpers. You finally look to where Blue is propped up against the large tire, Ghost kneeling at her front. His hand is tightly clamped over the side of her right thigh, and it is now that you notice the blood soaking through her jeans and his glove.

Blue's blood.

Crimson and glistening.

She whimpers again and her fingers twist the fabric of his coat.

"Dad, it— it feels like it's burning," she cries out, her cheeks turning wet from a sudden onslaught of tears.

"Fuck. I know, baby. I know."

She flinches when another gunshot rings out. "W-What do we do?"

You try to form a proper thought— try to make sense of everything. Before you can, Ghost grabs your hand, firmly replacing his hold on her wound with yours. The warm liquid immediately drenches your palm and you swallow, pressing as hard as you can, attempting to pack it crudely.

He speaks decisively. "Stay here with her. Wrap it up.”

"Ghost, you don't know how many fucking people there are," you say, panic turning your voice into something unrecognizable as you place your other hand on his arm. The muscles tense and leap.

“I didn't fucking ask you. I am telling you. Now do it."

He doesn’t give you the opportunity to protest again, but you wouldn’t even if he did because you fully realize that this is the best course of action. He needs to get rid of them. You need to tend to her wound. A strangled cry leaves Blue's lips when he departs. You coax her with soft hushes.

"It’s okay. He'll be right back.”

Urgently, you sling the bag off your shoulder and take out your own med kit. You don’t think twice about it. Not for a second. Not when all you can think about is making sure her soft, blue eyes stay open. When you move your hand from her thigh, the sight worries and relieves you at the same time.

You don't know much about bullet wounds, but you know where the femoral artery runs, and by the looks of it, it was missed. Still, a nice chunk of her flesh has been torn, revealing obliterated muscle. You don't see any bone or bits of metal, but it is hard to see much of anything with all the blood.

With fingers that shake, you use the same gauze she nursed your hand with to begin tightly dressing her thigh. As you do, your eyes flash up and around in a feeble search for where Ghost could be, but you can’t see him from behind the vehicle.

"Is it bad?" she asks, voice laced with a tremor. When your gaze returns to her, you notice that pale lips replace her usual rosy-pink ones. Her forehead is sheened with sweat.

"It looks worse than it is," you say.

"Are you... are you telling me the truth?"

"I am. Promise," you whisper. "Friends don't lie, right?"

Sporadic gunfire continues to pierce your ears. It sounds more distant now. You have no idea if it belongs to Ghost or whoever these people are. You push the uncertainties away, assuring yourself that he can handle however many of them there are, and focus on tying off the gauze, desperate to keep her blood in.

Blue suddenly blurts out, “Twix.”

You look up and meet her eyes. They are pointed at something behind you.

#simon riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #zombies

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kainuhsblog · 24 days ago

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Mr. Choi from 2A • Jiung Choi

prompt More Than Words Elementary gets the surprise of a lifetime when the kids figure out that the two kindest teachers for 4th and 5th grade are married. pairing teacher!jiung x fem!reader genre school teachers, established relationship, fluff warnings mentions of food, playful banter, school word count 3,796 (this story wrote itself) a/n hi! i'm back! I have something written this time! jiung is my ultimate bias, so i’ve been itching to write something for him. please note that this fic will be told in 3rd pov, but kind of centric to none of the main characters, but to one of jiung’s students, emma!

want more piwon posts from me? check out my fake texts here and here!

There are many things in the world that Emma loves. Her parents, for one – obviously. They spoil her endlessly, and even gave her a little brother, so she loves them.

Emma also loves trucks. She loves them simply because her dad always lifts her up to get in the thing. He even has to do a little stretch to get in himself. Big trucks that make even her dad seem small are always fun.

Third on the list – not that it has a particular order – will have to go to the bakery near her house. Ms. Lim makes the best cupcakes known to man, and her mom loves them just as much as she does, so they like to splurge on them every once in a while.

Fourth; the quaint burger place lodged in an alleyway on that busy street Emma always forgets the name of. Every once in a while, her mom and dad take her (and her little brother, now) to the place, and she always manages to see her uncle manning the bar. She wonders if he works there.

And last, but certainly not least; her 4th grade teacher Mr. Choi. Mr. Choi never enters the room without a fond smile on his face as he greets the class in the morning. He never lets them leave without some words of praise when they leave the class in the afternoon.

Mr. Choi is very attentive, explaining things a million times over for everyone to understand (who knew there were different methods to learning how to multiply big numbers?) and is very interactive with his class. Mr. Choi is probably the kindest person Emma knows.

If someone were to come up to her and shove a microphone and a camera in her face (because people do that now) and ask her who she thought the kindest person in the world was, her first answer would definitely be Mr. Choi. That’s just how good he is.

Anyways, before the author starts her spiel on the guy, let’s get into the actual story – shall we?

The list of things that Emma loves in this world differ depending on what day you ask her. Her constants will always be her parents (and brother), trucks, Ms. Lim’s bakery, the burger place, and Mr. Choi from class 2A.

Lately though, Emma thinks that a new constant might add to her list of things she loves in this world. The thought came to her mind halfway through the previous semester.

୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

At the beginning of her first semester in fourth grade, a new teacher for fifth grade arrived in bubbly fashion. With beautiful kind eyes and a charming smile; the new teacher tumbled her way into the lives of everyone at More Than Words Elementary School.

Emma was one of the people who only entertained things within her bubble. As a bubble dweller, the only things she knew dwelled in her bubble with her. She didn’t know anything about new staff or teachers unless someone entered her bubble to tell her. Which is how she found out about the new teacher in the first place.

She had many friends within the school who greeted her in the mornings, and her cousin Shelby was friends with her next door neighbor Tommy. Those two always brought her the gossip from their fifth grade circle.

They were all hanging out on the playground for recess when Shelby mentioned it to Emma. Something along the lines of the nicest teacher ever just came to their school or something. Emma excused Shelby’s comments because the elder didn’t have Mr. Choi in fourth grade.

Tommy described the woman like she hung the stars in the sky every single night for him to look at and ponder her. Shelby told him to write a book if he wanted to be that sappy. Emma laughed even if she didn’t get the reference all too well.

For the rest of that week, the new teacher was all her fifth grade friends seemed to want to talk about. She stopped listening to them halfway through. Mr. Choi was the nicest teacher ever, so she wanted to see his competition with her own two eyes.

If someone was listening to her thoughts, then they made quick plans, because the next day called for a multitude of rain and the absence of half of the students in her small school. Emma still went to school because her mom and dad had jobs to go to despite the rain, and her grandma was out of the country so no one her parents trusted could watch their kids.

She walked happily to her class, thinking of the pastries she would smell in the afternoon (as it was the day her and her mom went to the bakery) when she spotted a beautiful woman standing outside her class door talking to Mr. Choi. Her smile stretched like the sun on the horizon as it rose in the morning. A warmth like no other had hit Emma the moment she saw it.

Emma slowed her pace as she neared the classroom, and she heard the familiar words of reassurance from her teacher to the lady in front of him to ease her worries about whatever she stressed about. The kind words sounded a bit different in Emma’s ears though.

Emma greeted the adults like she was taught, and both Mr. Choi and the teacher greeted her with similar waves of kindness. The other teacher even knew her name. Why would the other teacher know her name?

Emma tilted her head in confusion and stood before the two teachers. The lady laughed and nudged Mr. Choi to get him to notice. Then, the teacher moved her left hand from the books she clung so tightly to her chest and extended it to the little girl before her.

“Hi Emma Kang, I’m the new fifth grade teacher Ms. (last name). It’s very nice to meet you!” The teacher introduced, and the shock couldn’t come fast enough as it morphed Emma’s face.

The lady before her was the kind teacher Shelby and Tommy told her about. Emma shook Ms. (last name)’s hand, feeling the familiar weight of an engagement band (her aunt Nina had just gotten engaged last month, so she knows how it feels on someone’s hand), and told the teacher that it was nice to meet her as well.

Turns out, Mr. Choi and Ms. (last name) were discussing the merge of their classrooms for the day so that they can watch movies and play games. None of the other fifth grade teachers wanted to do such things with their classes, (as it was still the beginning of the semester) but Mr. Choi thought it would be fun to let his kids relax for one day.

୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

Rainy days had now meant joint classes after the success of the first one that day, and Emma realized that she hoped for rainy days a lot more, so that she can see Ms. (last name) again and again and again. This was when she thought of the possibility of a new constant on her list.

Emma thinks that Ms. (last name) felt like the sun, especially when she brightened up the classrooms. Ms. (last name) was extra involved in just about everything, and Emma found herself wanting to join a few things just to see the bubbly teacher again.

Now, you (as the reader) might be wondering where I’ll fit the synopsis into this story, and I’m getting there. Anyways, back to the story.

Emma also notices how much livelier Mr. Choi seemed to get whenever Ms. (last name) would come around their area, for rainy days or not. The two teachers seemed really close, like they were friends before working together. Well, that’s how Emma saw it. Shelby and Tommy seemed to disagree though.

The two fifth graders often talked about how they coax small bits of information out of their homeroom teacher whenever they all can’t seem to understand a particularly hard subject (which is usually math.) Ms. (last name) never got into great detail about a lot of stuff, but she always talked about her fiance with a sense of “love” and “comfort”.

Emma knew about those feelings and those words, (she’s 9 for crying out loud) but no one ever seemed to explain the concept of love to her in a way where she understood or related to it, so topics like these had her confused. When she asked what that had to do with anything, Shelby exclaimed that she had a feeling that Mr. Choi and Ms. (last name) were a couple.

Emma sat there for a long while trying to see things from her cousin’s point of view. Sure, they were friendly and got along well, but a couple? They didn’t seem like a couple. She’s seen a few couples in her nine years on this earth, and her teachers don’t act as gross as those couples.

Besides, they both arrive in separate cars. From the couples Emma has seen, they usually arrive in the same car, do they not? Her mom and dad are almost always in the same vehicle. Aunt Nina and her fiance Sam never leave without each other at events. Uncle Darren and Aunt Lily only have one car. They drop Shelby to school in it everyday.

Tommy and Shelby bickered back and forth whilst Emma was left with the most confusing theory of her life.

Emma decided that day that there was no way Mr. Choi and Ms. (last name) were a couple. Well, that was until dinnertime, when she decided to ask the one couple she constantly has to see.

୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

“Mom, dad, can people be a couple even if they don’t hug and hold hands and kiss and arrive at places in the same car?” She asked them once her food was graced and her mom told her to dig in.

Both of her parents stopped their utensils from reaching their mouths to look at their daughter, seeing her staring back at them with a curious glint in her eyes.

“Sweetie, I think we’re gonna need more context than that.” Her mom answered.

“Your mom’s right, princess. What brought this on so suddenly?” Her dad added on.

“Well, you guys know my favorite teacher Mr. Choi right?” She started off, watching her parents put down their eating utensils to give her their undivided attention.

“Yes we do, what about him?” Her dad asked.

“And you guys know the pretty teacher I told you about a while ago? Ms. (last name)?” She inquired.

“Yes we do sweetheart.” Her mom answered, picking up her son’s spoon to help him eat his rice.

“Okay, so today at recess I mentioned to Shelby and Tommy how I thought the teachers were friends before working together because of how well they seem to just – what’s the word I’m looking for?”

“Coexist?”

“No not that one … although that one is really good, thanks mom.”

“Of course!”

“Cooperate then?” Her dad chimed in, finally picking his utensil up.

“Oh yes that word! Thank you dad, you’re so smart! Anyways, yes I mentioned it to them, and then Shelby said something about how she thinks they’re a couple? So then I sat there to think about it and that doesn’t make sense? How are they a couple when they don’t kiss and hug and hold hands and go everywhere together and use the same car and have kids?” Emma rambled, getting more confused than ever as she’s explaining it to her parents.

“Maybe they don’t act that way because kids are present, princess.” Her dad supplied.

“Dad, you and mom were literally kissing in the kitchen … with me present!” Emma rebutted.

“That’s because you’re our kid. There’s a difference when it’s your own kid,” Her mom informed.

“And besides, they work together don’t they? Why act like a couple at work? That’s not very professional.” Her mom continued.

“You can’t do stuff like that at work?” Emma asked incredulously.

“No you can’t Emma.” Her dad replied.

“Wow, you learn something new everyday. What about the car thing then, they’re married and don’t come to work together? That’s so odd. You guys ride to work together all the time.” Emma questioned.

“Emma first of all, not all couples are married,” Her mom told her, ignoring the gasp of disbelief that escapes her nine year old.

“Secondly, they probably don’t even live together. Of course they’ll come to work in different cars.” Her mom continued.

Emma’s shocked beyond words, her brother Eric wasn't paying attention, just eating his food and replaying the opening for power rangers in his mind as he ignored them. Her dad’s just thinking about how all of this could’ve been avoided if they just gave her electronics and discovered the weird stuff on the internet in the first place. He pushed the thought from his mind though, his wife said no so he sticks beside her.

“Wait, so you’re telling me that couples aren’t married and don’t live together and can’t act gross and work?” Emma asked.

“Your Aunt Nina and her fiance Sam aren’t married, and they’re a couple.” Her dad answered.

“They’re practically married.” Emma replied.

“Wait, but do you guys think they’re a couple? An unmarried one who doesn't live together?” Emma followed up.

She saw her mom and dad rack their brains to see if they remembered anything out of the ordinary between the fourth and fifth grade teachers that night. And then she heard them agree with her crazy claim.

The next day, when she took Shelby’s side in the argument, their conversations shifted forever. The three friends had made it their new mission to find out if their teachers were really together.

୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

In between that time, the semester had ended, and the long awaited break had begun. Her mom and dad finally sat her down and told her about the different types of couples and all that jazz. They also took her to see her grandparents, where she stayed with all of her cousins for two weeks.

Emma, Shelby and Tommy met regularly to talk about their random findings, even during their break. Nothing was bigger than the time Emma saw them both at Ms. Lim’s bakery though. The two teachers didn’t notice her, and she didn’t try to get noticed as she saw them share a slice of cheesecake and basically smiled at each other for five minutes.

Through it all though, the mission seemed to be leading them practically nowhere. The new semester started with Shelby and Tommy telling Emma how Ms. (last name) came back with a new ring on her finger, signifying that she finally got married.

Tommy told her to check Mr. Choi’s hands to see if he had a ring on as well to confirm their suspicions. Mr. Choi always had rings on his fingers though, so that plan was fruitless.

For days on end, Emma tried to figure out if there was a new ring on Mr. Choi’s finger, and for days on end it seemed as if nothing was out of the ordinary.

Just as Emma was about to give up though, the answers to their questions fell right into her lap.

୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

It was a rainy Thursday, and like all rainy days, Emma gets dropped off to school earlier than usual. Emma told her parents goodbye at the entrance of the school, watching her dad’s truck drive off with her mom waving at her wildly from the window.

Emma began to turn around to head inside before hearing the familiar purr of her teacher’s SUV pulling into the parking lot. She then stopped fully once she saw her teacher help Ms. (last name) out of the car?!?!!?!?!

Mr. Choi and Ms. (last name) just came out of the same car. Mr. Choi is helping Ms. (last name) with her bags. Mr. Choi – OH MY GOODNESS DID MR. CHOI JUST KISS MS. (LAST NAME)’S FOREHEAD? were the thoughts that ran through Emma’s mind once she saw what transpired.

Emma wanted to stand there and rack her brain to find the sense in all of what had happened, but the teachers were both coming towards the entrance? Oh my goodness, Emma Kang. Go and run into a hole right now.

Emma picked up her pace and starts to walk away, but the warm tilt of a harmonious tone traveled to her ears as Ms. (last name) greeted her from her walk toward the door. Emma stopped like a deer in headlights, and turned slowly to greet the two teachers.

My goodness, they’re even sharing an umbrella. Emma Kang, for the first time in her life, just wants to not be a curious kid. Having to see this from her favorite teachers isn’t good for her psyche.

“Emma Kang, it’s been a while. How are you doing this morning? Are you ready for our rainy day movie session? I didn’t expect the rain to happen so quickly into the semester, but man am I excited for our class to get together again and have some fun. Do you want to help Mr. Choi and I choose the first movie? We’ve been arguing about the lineup all –”

“(First name), you’re rambling.” Mr. Choi interrupted, and only one thing entered Emma’s mind like a blaring siren once she saw Ms. (last name) stop and giggle about it, apologizing to the kid.

“You two are married.” Emma blurted out in the midst of Ms. (last name)’s apology, causing the two teachers to freeze up at the accusation – no, the declaration.

They both rubbed their necks in tandem; Ms. (last name) laughing nervously and suddenly finding interest in the school motto placed on the wall beside them. Mr. Choi looked at his wife, and then looked at his (now unfortunate) brightest student.

“You two are married right? Mr. Choi kissed your forehead and you guys got out of the same car and you guys are even holding pinkies over the handle of Ms. (last name)’s bag.” Emma asked, pointing out her deductions to the newlyweds before her.

The air stilled once she continued on with her findings, almost laughing at the fact that they immediately let go of each others’ pinkies. Mr. Choi told Emma to follow them, walking from the entrance and to the classroom of 2A.

Emma watched as they both started to unpack the bags, placing stuff here and there and working together like they’ve been doing this for years. Emma watched a new level of their cooperation unfold on that rainy thursday.

After they had set up everything, Ms. (last name) walked over to Mr. Choi, and pulled at his blazer to get his attention. They had a discussion with wide eyes and ragged whispers for about five minutes before Mr. Choi raised his hands in defeat. That’s when Emma noticed that he forwent the rings he usually donned, one simple band on his left ring finger catching the light in the room.

“I guess the cat’s out of the bag now.” Ms. (last name) said after a few moments of awkward silence.

Emma’s eyes widened to the size of saucers once she realized that they were admitting to her declarations.

“You guys really are married?” She carefully asked.

“Yes, yes we are. We recently tied the knot during the break.” Mr. Choi answers, stifling his laughter once he sees confusion slide across his student’s face.

“What does tying a knot have to do with your marriage?” Emma confusingly questioned.

“It’s an expression. One of the many ways of saying you got married without actually saying it.” Ms. (last name) replies, pinching her husband for laughing.

“Oh.” Is all Emma said in response.

The adults studied her face for any odd reactions from Emma Kang, who started to have another mental battle with herself.

“We actually wanted to tell you and the other kids about it later on.” Mr. Choi supplies helplessly.

That didn’t seem to work though, as Emma continued to just … blankly stare at them.

“Are you upset, Emma Kang?” Ms. (last name) asked after almost three minutes of heavy silence.

Then Emma blinks a few times, looking up at them with something close to joy swimming in her eyes. Mr. Choi and Ms. (last name) let out the breath they didn’t even know they were holding.

“Upset? This is the best news I’ve gotten all school year. Why would I be upset when the two nicest people in the world are married?” Emma exclaims.

“I thought you’d be upset that we didn’t say anything.” Mr. Choi replied.

“I thought you had a crush on Mr. Choi, to be honest.” Ms. (last name) replied at the same time.

“I’m nine.” Emma deadpanned.

“When I was nine, I had a crush on my music teacher. I don’t see how that excuse is relevant.” Ms. (last name) said.

“(First name) you were just an odd kid.” Mr. Choi followed up.

Emma chuckled when she saw Ms. (last name) hit Mr. Choi on the arm for his comment.

“You who was crushing over Sam from ‘Danny Phantom’ at that exact age, puh-lease.” Ms. (last name) accused.

“At least she and I were closer in age than you and your old shriveled up music teacher.” Mr. Choi responded.

“Sam isn’t even real.” Ms. (last name) said.

“Neither was your chance with that wrinkly old music teacher.” Mr. Choi replied.

“He was 25 oh my goodness Jiung, stop calling him old.” Ms. (last name) exclaimed.

“Even worse.” Mr. Choi replied.

The adults stopped their playful banter when they heard Emma cracking up from her seat.

“You guys are the sweetest.” She replied once she stopped laughing, shocked at the fond looks that stretched their smiles wide at her.

୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

The rainy day ended up with Emma harboring their secret for them, a lot of movies, and a kid crashing from a sugar rush after sneakily eating too much candy.

Later that semester, the teachers decided to tell their class separately about their marriage, which breaks another spout of gossip between Emma, Shelby and Tommy. The news spread through More Than Words Elementary like wildfire that day.

Questions were thrown at the couple for weeks to come after that, and a new quest (bet) was formed between the kid trio. Guessing when they’d have their first kid.

Emma now helped the kind teachers set up for movie days whenever it rained, and a new constant had been added to Emma’s long list of things she loved. Her parents (and brother), trucks, Ms. Lim’s bakery, the burger place, Ms. (last name) and Mr. Choi from Class 2A. That was her list of constants.

#kainuhsblog😵‍💫#kpop fanfiction #p1harmony #p1harmony x reader #p1harmony x you #p1harmony x y/n #p1h jiung #p1harmony fanfic #piwon fanfic #piwon x reader #p1harmony jiung #jiung x reader #jiung p1harmony #piwon fluff #p1harmony imagines #choi jiung #kpop x reader

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hysteria-things · 3 months ago

Text

✿ PROMISE? ✿ PART NINE.

ʚ♡ɞ 𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 | 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 ʚ♡ɞ

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: chris x fem!reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: another invite to a party was not what you were expecting from your former crush…

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMOKING WEED, mention of intoxication, swearing

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1,652

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: you guys must hate me right now😂

i promise (lol) i’ll have a fic out soon! i’ve been struggling so that’s why i haven’t been as active, but i’ll try my best to be :)

“𝐈’𝐌 𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘 𝐒𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐘,” 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐆𝐄 says, waving at the smoke that exits her mouth.

“paige, it’s fine. the pits were three weeks ago. i’m over it. i’m alive, aren’t i?”

she frowns with a nod. paige wanted to hang out with you today since you didn’t have anything going on, so you planned a sleepover with just the two of you. her dad is out of town with her brother, leaving her alone for a few days. you guys are sitting in her living room at the moment with the TV portraying a shitty netflix movie she clicked on, even though you aren’t paying attention to it.

after a second puff, she hands you the blunt. you inhale deeply, the smoke flowing through your body with ease. “anything new going on? more specifically chris related?” she smirks.

“no,” you reply, narrowing your eyes at the girl. you told her about what he did the night of the pits, and she's not letting go about how she thinks you like him.

you don’t.

“that’s boring.” she mumbles. “anything else? not chris related because you’re lame.”

“my cousins are coming tomorrow; my mom told me this morning. they’re staying with monica for a few weeks, who is their best friend since they’re close in age. she lives right next door to us.” you start, putting the blunt between your lips once more. “she’s a family friend i’ve pretty much known my whole life.

“hm.” she hums, falling silent and looking around the room before speaking again. “are you sure you don’t have at least a little feelings for chris?”

“no. we just started being friends again!” you argue. “ask that again and you’re earning a slap across the face.”

she laughs, adjusting herself to where she leans back on her elbows. “is that kevin butler texting? i remember you having the fattest crush on him when we were in middle school.”

confused, you stare at her to see she is looking at your lit-up screen on the coffee table. “shut up.” you snarl, rolling your eyes intensely. “i bumped into him at the pits.”

she gasps, sitting up as fast as lightning. not going to lie, it made you flinch a little. “do you like ryan again? or is this like a love triangle? now things are getting good.” she props herself on her knees to feed into the gossip.

“no, i don’t like kevin.” you say, which is somewhat of a lie.

“please, please, please answer it.” she begs, handing you the phone. you can tell the drug you two inhaled is starting to take over. you snatch the phone from her and open up the message.

“i hope you know i’m coming with you to that party,” paige says, peeking over your shoulder.

“chris is going to hate me.” you say lowly, locking the phone and placing it back where it was before.

she knits her eyebrows together. “why? he doesn’t control you.”

“i know, but i don’t want him to drag me to his house again.” you bite your lip to nibble on it. “that’s embarrassing.”

“chris doesn’t have to find out. you are your own person and you make your own decisions, no?” she says, patting you on the chest.

𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 afternoon the next day. when you get there, you see two recognizable cars in the driveway. you sprint up the stairs and enter through the front door, to be greeted by numerous voices overlapping each other. the pitter-patter of paws slam against the wood floors when you shut the door. “oh!” you say in a startle as chichi jumps onto his hind legs to put his front two on your thigh. his tail wags as he greets you with smothers and barks while you pat his head.

peering around the wall, chichi zooms back into the living room. your cousin bethany — who gave you your journal all of those years ago — and her husband dillon are sitting on the floor in front of where your mom and dad are seated. your other cousin amalia and her husband james are on the other couch, their six-year-old twins playing with toys on the coffee table. “y/n!” oliver, one of the twins, exclaims. he runs over to hug you.

“hello, people. fancy seeing you here,” you say, sitting on the floor alongside bethany and dillon.

when your mom said everybody, you thought she was exaggerating, but she meant everybody.

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓, 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀𝐑𝐄 scurrying through your closet to try and find a perfect outfit for tonight. you usually don’t care about that certain thing, but you have a good feeling about kevin’s party in less than two hours. you groan loudly as your bedroom door opens. “is everything okay here?” bethany asks, peeking her head in.

you nod. “yes!”

“alright, then. i was sent to tell you that dinner’s ready.”

“i’m not eating right now. i’m going out soon.” you exhale sharply, still tearing your closet apart.

she raises a brow, intrigued. “where are you going?”

“out with friends.” you smile nervously, rubbing the sweat off of your hands on your pajamas, looking in the pile of clothes some more to see if a decent outfit will magically appear out of thin air. she gives you a suspicious look, checking to see if anybody is around before closing the door. “who’s the boy?”

“there is no boy.”

“you don’t get dressed up to ‘go out with friends’.”

you sigh in defeat. “fine. i was invited to this party and i want to dress nice, but all i have is bum sh— stuff; and i’m running out of time. the party is in less than two hours.”

she brings her finger up to her chin to think for a moment. you can see a lightbulb go off in her head. “let me make a call.” she pulls out her phone, her nails clicking against the screen. “monica works in fashion. she’ll have stuff to fit, i’m sure.”

speaking of the devil, monica appears at your house in minutes. it’s like you blinked and here she is, her tall figure kneeling in front of the bag she places down and pulls out two dresses. “you don’t seem like the type to wear fancy shit, so i brought these that i know you’ll look good in.”

the dress she is holding in her right hand is a red silky v-neck with stitched openings going up to the stitching that separates the chest from the bottom. the other one is a simple dress that is holographic. you tilt your head to think as you look from one to the other. “my mom is going to kill me if she sees me wearing one of these.”

she giggles, her long hair with blonde highlights falling over her shoulders when she does so. “oh, we got that covered.” she says matter of factly, pointing between her and bethany.

“hence why i am going to help you leave without her seeing, and covering up for you while you’re gone. you’re nineteen years old. you have to live a little, but safely. even if you have to lie from time to time.” bethany says, eyeing her best friend.

“just out of curiosity, does your mom know you snuck out?” you say because this plan seems too good to be true.

“oh, god, no. i’d still be grounded.” she shakes her head and you laugh out loud. “amalia and i used to have each other’s backs all the time when we were your age, younger, even. now, it’s time i have yours.”

you smile at that. she’s so cool, despite her being in her early thirties. amalia is a few years older. after some consideration, you point to the red dress. “that one.”

“good choice.” monica starts. “go to the bathroom and put it on.”

you get up from the floor and go to the restroom which is only a few feet away from your room. taking off what you’re wearing, you slip into the dress. you hum, checking yourself out in the mirror for a few seconds. it fits your form perfectly, your body looking better than it has ever looked in your nineteen years of living. you smirk at this boost of confidence. the more you look, the more you realize how short it is. the weird thing is, you don’t mind.

you look phenomenal.

walking back to the girls with a twirl, you hear bethany audibly gasp. “holy shit. you look stunning!”

“i feel it.”

“ooh, la la. what’s going on here? a secret fashion show?” amalia chirps while coming up behind you, cocking an eyebrow slightly. she goes over to monica to greet her before continuing. “it’s not that you don’t look gorgeous, but why? you got a date?”

“y/n here is sneaking out to go to a party.” bethany grins, patting you on the shoulder.

“no fucking way.” amalia gasps. “y/n, my most introverted little cousin, is sneaking out to party?”

“please don’t tell my mom,” you beg with a hint of worry that she’ll snitch.

she scoffs. “who do you think i am? this is a very special occasion i have to take part in… ‘cause girl, you are rocking it in that dress.”

you giggle as bethany sits you down at the vanity. she grabs her makeup bag that’s in her purse and leans in front of you. monica is scavenging your bedroom to look for jewelry, and she finds some that can match. amalia hovers above you and her sister.

bethany finishes the makeup look after a few minutes and monica hooks you up with a matching necklace and earring set that is silver, all of them giving an approving look. bethany looks at her watch and smiles. “you made it just in time. have fun.” she winks, ushering you to the entrance of your house.

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @moncherriis @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @raysmayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @multiluvr @delilahprentiss @tworosesblackthorn @gnxosblog @junnniiieee07 @flowerxbunnie @imaslut4kehlani @sturniolosandmoree @hearrtsturns @stars4matt @freshsturns @etershine @sukiipjs @h3arts4harry @sturnioloblogs @creamoncreamoncream2 @ivyyyyyysposts @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 @mbsbaby @mattsdollie @thesturniolos @nononopenono1 @bitchydragonparadise @gdsvhtwa @hrt-attack @dwntwn-strnlo @venusbabysblog @meerkatzthings @bernardsbendystraws @hoes4matthew @deareststurns

#[ ✿ ] promise?#chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo fluff

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earlysunshines · 1 year ago

Text

moonlight serenade

kindergarden teacher!sana x fem!reader. (pt. 3)

summary: sana finds you even cuter after seeing you in shark pj's, you two are hopeless lesbians, you drive sana home and it's more romantic than it should be – oh my god you're not a mother?

wc: 5.3k

warnings: mentions of food, i think that's it ; reader has tattoos ; u two are hopeless romantics ; lesbians being lesbians

pt 1. pt2. pt4.

a/n: I love jazz. I've been listening to jazz in a bakery/cafe while writing each part actually. pls listen to moonlight serenade by ella fitzgerald, it's a work of art and one of my all time favorites :-D

(are lyrics in fics corny? I have no idea. I just love jazz and thought this song was perfect for this part.)

trying to write as much before I move! enjoy ;-]

“Are you actually serious?” Jihyo says, placing her cup of coffee down. Sana pinches the bridge of her nose and lets out a small breath,

“Jihyo, I don’t know what to do,” Sana says defeatedly.

Two months have passed by and that means two months of seeing you every now and then. Johnny, your brother, has returned from his business trip, so he ended up being the one to take Hana to school in the morning and the one to pick her up in the afternoon. You, however, were not going to miss the chance to see this lovely woman named Sana. 5'4 inches of pure beauty and charm. So, you convinced him to let you take Hana to school once or twice a week just to see who you think is the woman blessed by Aphrodite.

I mean, the temperature is dropping, and the warmth that spreads through your body when you see Sana is definitely something you need for this weather.

Every week Sana would see you in the morning once or twice. You two would exchange your friendly greetings before Hana goes off to chat with her new best friend Jiyeong, you’d stare at each other all lovingly (you two are oblivious, it’s sick), and then part ways. Rinse and repeat, reuse, reduce, recycle, etc, this went on for two damn months.

Sana would never say anything more, she wouldn’t flirt, she wouldn’t ask you out, and she wouldn’t do anything but be friendly. She still believed that you were literally her student’s mother, and there was a guilt that got heavier every time her heart did a flip from seeing you.

Each interaction sparked a small flame in your hearts, and just before it grew bigger, you’d wave goodbye; the flame would die again, never growing large enough to really warm you two the way you both needed.

“Sana… I honestly have no clue what to say,” Jihyo starts, and she looks at the young teacher in front of her, practically losing her mind, “I mean, you’re sure she’s her mom?”

“Yes, I mean, the girl’s dad and her take turns dropping her off and whatnot. I'm not going to be more delusional than I already am trying to find anything that makes her seem less like a mother, I mean, it's clear that she is the mother of that girl.” Sana explains, and her heart sinks a little, “I guess her dad is nice, though, and tall, I don’t know.” Sana groans.

Jihyo watches Sana stick out her signature little pout and swirl the coffee in her cup,

“Well… There are always others, no?”

“I don’t know, it’s just something about her Jihyo,” and Jihyo listens with interest, “I just, ever since we met, I feel like, there was some kind of… god this is so embarrassing…” Sana trails off, putting a hand on her forehead and pinching her eyes shut from slight embarrassment. Sana reminisces the way you’d joke about Hana making your wrinkles appear if she kept it up with her little antics, how you’d make her laugh at your little comments, and the way your eyes scan the room for her in the mornings and -

“You’ve been a hopeless romantic since we were roommates, I’ve probably heard worse.” Jihyo sighs, and she reminisces about the days when Sana and she had to share a small single-bedroom dorm, and how she would gush about anything and romanticize everything.

“Look, she’s just so pretty… Maybe we could just be friends? She’s sweet.” Sana suggests, and Jihyo laughs in disbelief.

“You want to be friends with someone’s mother that you also, or, might have a crush on?”

“Maybe.”

You let yourself in through the front door with your spare keys, hanging your jacket on the coat hanger and sliding your shoes off, setting them on the shoe rack.

There’s a faint melody of a slow, soft song playing, and there’s a low voice that hums along to the old tune. It fits the atmosphere of the quiet house on a Thursday night.

You creep through the hall quietly to see your brother in the dimmed kitchen washing a few plates. He’s in a navy long-sleeved shirt with its sleeves rolled up so water doesn't temporarily shade his apparel, and loose shorts that go down to just above his knees. His hair is a bit messy, and he looks nerdy with his circular black glasses on. You laugh at the sight of him in his pajamas and slides, he jumps a little and turns his head in surprise after hearing you.

“My god, at least text me.” He sighs, and you chuckle at him. You make your way over to the area where he is and sit across from him at the kitchen island, he directs his attention back to the dirty plate in his hand, “Did you need something?”

“Kinda.”

“You know where everything is, just grab it if you need it. Also, be quiet, Hana just fell asleep.” Johnny responds, turning off the sink and placing the white dish in the dishwasher.

“It’s not a physical thing, I just… maybe some advice, or at least your thoughts.”

“...On?”

“There’s this girl,”

"Oh," He mumbles quietly, “You’re ready to date again?”

“I think so,” You begin, “She’s different you know. Not like that girl in high school. She’s actually the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, and she’s sweet and nice and caring and-”

“How long have you known her?”

“Two months...”

“So it is Ms. Minatozaki.” Johnny scoffs, though, not in an insulting way, more of an ‘I fucking knew it’ way. He picks up a rag and starts to wipe it on the countertop.

You look at your taller brother in surprise, “How did you know?”

“Hana tells me all about you two y’know? Why else would you willingly wake up earlier than you should to drop off my daughter at school? And, she tells me that you ask about her teacher?” He laughs, “You’re not good at hiding things, never have been.”

“Hey!” You say defensively, and a little too loud as it makes him put a finger to his lips,

“Lower your voice.”

“Sorry.” You mumble, laying your head on your palm. Johnny turns his body to face you instead of the counter connected to the sink that he had previously been wiping,

“Soooo, what are you going to do?”

“I don’t know Johnny.”

“You think she likes you?” He asks, genuinely curious about your new interest. Johnny grabs two glasses of water and places them on the counter, then sits down to the right of you, making sure to give his full attention to you.

Johnny has always been a good brother, and you two had your necessary brother-sister moments where you were at each other's throats; in fact, you’d bicker all the damn time and it even went on into high school. However, you two always had each other’s backs. Even when you hated each other there would be moments where you two were the only ones who understood each other, and sometimes time seemed to stop when you’d talk about the deeper topics and anything bothering you two.

And so, time slows down as Johnny listens to your rant.

“We’re friendly, I mean, what am I thinking? I feel slightly delusional I won’t even lie,” You sigh, “She’s so pretty and sweet and I just, I really want to get to know her. Like ever since I met her I felt like… It’s so corny but I swear the world literally paused for a moment.” You add, shifting your look away from your older brother.

How are you supposed to tell your brother that this woman that you’ve known for two months is making you lose some sleep, and, by the way, you haven’t even had a full conversation with her either. You think of the woman that you go out of your way to run into and see for ten minutes a day total, twice a week. You think of her radiant smile that rivals the sun's rays, the voice that’s more soothing than any song on your playlist, and the way her eyes light up when she sees you, and -

“You’re head over heels, huh,” Johnny says, amused.

“Don’t be ridiculous, I barely know her.” you lie,

“Well, you could.”

“And how am I supposed to do that? ‘Oh hey I think of you day and night just because I think you’re cute and nice and I think I almost overfilled a cup of cold brew while daydreaming about you, uh maybe we could go out sometime?’”

“Maybe don’t say that much, dumbass.” Your older brother says playfully, “Just start with a compliment or something, you seriously suck at this romance stuff.”

“Thanks,” You mutter, rolling your eyes, “But what if she thinks that’s weird? I’m literally her student’s aunt.”

“Maybe,” Johnny sighs and finishes the water in his cup, “Maybe you should get some rest, y/n. If you lose sleep over this woman who you’ve never had a full conversation with, imagine how much sleep you’ll lose when you finally do.” He stands up and makes his way over back to the sink to rinse the glass cup you had gotten him for his last birthday, “So, maybe you should catch up on rest now and rant to me when you finally have the balls to actually make a conversation with her, then I could actually give you some decent advice."

“You suck.”

“I want to give you my feedback and advice, but this is literally all I can say right now: ask her out and come back to me.”

“This is too much.”

“You’re a loser, y/n.” Johnny jokes, and he takes the cup that you hadn’t touched away and then rinses it.

You don’t even get to plan anything or prepare yourself for your next interaction with Sana, and you look stupid when you run into her too.

You’re at the nearest convenience store in an oversized t-shirt that was your brothers’, the gray shirt with a shark graphic on it that was too comfy to not steal. Paired with that tee were plaid shorts and white socks with more sharks on them that you had gotten from Hana last Christmas, along with grayish-green clogs on your feet.

You were dressed like a college student that was on a budget, and of course, you had to run into the woman of your dreams at a convenience store at 12:24 am on a Friday night while looking stupid.

Sana had run into you while you scanned the drinks section. You didn’t notice her calling out your name while there was pop music playing in your earbuds, and when you turned to see who had tapped on your shoulder your eyes widened.

Sana held a small basket in her hand, and she wore a purple sweatshirt along with gray sweatpants, much more presentable than what you were wearing. Your face goes red as you realize that she’s caught you looking ridiculous, all while she looks perfect.

Her hair is clipped up and some strands fall over her face, and she looks so unbelievably adorable just standing there smiling at you.

“Hi.” She says, looking you up and down.

She scans your whole look and gets a little flustered by how precious you look. Your hair is messed up and disheveled at the roots, as if you’d just gotten out of bed and ran a hand through it. The oversized t-shirt drowned your figure in comfort, and your inked, toned forearms were revealed. The t-shirt you wore had a cute shark graphic on it, Sana had guessed that your daughter had something to do with why you had that shirt. She smiles at the sight of you in such comfy clothing, looking lovely as ever while you stare back at her.

“Hey.” You respond, taking out an earbud,

“It’s surprising to see you here y/n,” Sana giggles, “Thirsty?” She questions, and she’s peeking at the vitamin water in one of your hands.

“I guess so.” You mumble, biting the inside of your cheek and putting a hand in your pocket, “It’s pretty surprising to see you here too.” You add. Surprising, but wow, definitely lucky. When would you ever see her looking so comfy and out of her workplace looking so cute?

Sana giggles and you feel like a huge gust of wind has hit you so suddenly, about to hit you off your feet. You smile brightly.

“I couldn’t sleep, I wanted something to snack on,” Sana shrugs. You glance at her basket and see some spicy turtle chips in the basket,

“Eating something spicy at this time is new to me, most people would have something warm, no?”

“Maybe.” Sana mutters, “I like your outfit, by the way.”

Your ears turn red again and you look down at your clothing, “Yeah… It’s a shirt from Hana’s dad, haha, that’s why it’s so big.”

Sana’s heart sinks a bit at the mention of Hana’s dad.

Sana and Johnny had met other times, and Sana thought he was nice, sweet, and she can't lie he does has a nice smile, but not as nice as yours. He treated Hana with care; Sana could tell he loved her dearly, as much as you did.

“I see, I like it. The two of them must love sharks, she always draws them during class.”

“She and her dad are very similar, lots of shark things in the house. I prefer koalas.” You reply. You wonder why the hell you’re mentioning koalas at this time, at this moment in this place, but it doesn’t matter because it seems to spark some kind of conversation with the woman in front of you, and Sana thinks it’s cute, actually.

“Koalas?” She questions amusingly, "They’re cute. I think hamsters are cuter, though.”

“hamsters?”

“Mhm.”

You chuckle at her response and wonder, how does she get cuter every time? Sana turns her head to eye at the drinks, then makes her way to the refrigerator door to grab one for herself, she grabs a canned iced americano and turns her body to face you again,

“Do you live near? I feel like I would’ve run into you sooner if you did.” Sana says, looking at the can in her right hand.

“Uh - no. The nearest convenience store closes at 12, so I just drove around until I found one open.” You answer, “Do you live near?” You ask. You wonder if the question is too weird or creepy to ask, I mean, this is a woman you don’t know too well, and would it be weird to ask a person you find so attractive where they live?

“Kind of. It’s a fifteen-minute walk, maybe less, give or take. The one right next to my place is closed too.”

“You walked? At this time?” You question her. Worry takes over your whole body because she walked alone? In the dark? At this hour?

Sana just hums in response, “Yeah, the neighborhood is really quiet and not too bad.”

“Still, you should’ve driven or something.”

“I don’t drive.” She simply states. You furrow your brows. She just stares back at you with those big brown eyes, it almost makes you forget about worrying.

She walks past you and heads to the self-checkout, you follow. There's a sudden idea that pops up in your mind, and you usually wouldn't be so bold to suggest or ask anything so direct, but it's twelve in the morning and your mind is too scrambled to make or think of any decent decisions.

“Sana,” You murmur, voice just barely above a whisper as you find the confidence for what you’re about to say, “Uh- this might be a little weird to ask, but, um…” You stutter, why the hell are you stuttering? She’s staring at you with those large espresso-colored eyes that remind you of your job at the moment, and the longer she stares back at you the more your mind races. This woman has your heart doing flips and pounding through your chest, you can barely manage your thoughts and words,

“Yes?”

“Uh, could I take you home?” You finally say, barely managing to make eye contact with her and it’s a humbling experience as your usually leveled (at least you think) demeanor crumbles under the presence of this woman.

“You don’t have to. It’s late and I don’t want to cause you too much trouble, y/n.”

“I’d be much more troubled if I knew you were walking home alone at this time, I insist.”

“Alright then. Let me pay first.”

You pause for a moment and Sana just turns back around, scanning the chips and canned coffee she had in her basket. It’s almost 12:30 now, and a pretty girl is letting you take her home. This wonder of the world is letting your disheveled self take her home.

“You have a nice car,” Sana says. She's never had a thing for cars or really knew too much about them. She's only paid attention to Jihyo’s five-seat white Lexus and the black, modified BMW that belonged to her childhood friend Momo. Other cars don't really matter or stand out to her, but Sana’s interest in you grows when she first sees the green Mercedes. Five-seated car looks nice and neat from the outside, for some reason, it really catches her attention. When she sits in the passenger seat she’s hit with the smell of coconut and vanilla. There are two things hung from the internal rearview mirror: One, a small keychain of a koala, and two, a picture of you and Johnny.

Sana can’t help but smile at the picture of you two, you two look happy.

You start the engine and put on your seatbelt before putting the drink you bought in the cup holder. You press on the screen in your car and a slow jazz melody plays. Of course, it had to be a love song.

“I’ve never seen your tattoos up close, they’re really pretty.” Sana suddenly says as you start to move out of where you were parked. Her eyes scan from your upper forearm, where the tattoo started, and down to where it ended just below your wrist, “I only saw a bit of them when you had dropped Hana off the first day.” Sana added.

She wanted to add on about how she also noticed the tattoo just under your knuckles too, and how she found the ink on your skin so endearing. She wanted to tell you all about the things she found attractive about you. From the noticeable things like your bold features to the little things she’s noted in her mind from every meeting. The way you’d always run a hand through your beautiful hair once or twice, the eye contact you couldn’t hold with her, the way you bit the inside of your cheek when you were quiet, the way your fingers often tugged at the beaded bracelet on your hand, how cute it was to watch you say bye to your daughter, and various other little details. Sana wanted to tell you all about those things, but that would be incredibly weird, right?

“Oh, yeah, thank you. I got the tattoo on my forearm a couple of years ago. Hana picked out the butterfly on my hand last year, actually.” You say, looking at the screen of your car as you back up a bit, making sure you don’t hit anything.

“Oh, also, you can type the address on my phone. Here.” You add, handing her the device. Sana types in her address quickly and it pops up on the screen. It’s a quick 4-minute drive, and you both wished it were a bit longer.

The music continues to play softly while you two sit in silence, and it somehow makes the mood a bit more intimate whilst the faint sound of Ella Fitzgerald's voice echoes,

I stand and I wait

For the touch of your hand in the June night

The roses are sighing

A moonlight serenade

Your breath hitches, “Um, you can change the song if you want…” You say embarrassed. Sana shakes her head and mumbles,

“It’s alright. I like it, It’s cute.” She admits, making you blush a bit. You grip the wheel a little tighter as you stop at the red light. The heartfelt lyrics fill the air with a romantic hum, and only the tender melody is heard as you sit together in silence.

The stars are aglow

And tonight how their light sets me dreaming

My love, do you know

That your eyes are like stars brightly beaming?

Sana’s heartbeat skips a little knowing that you listen to such romantic melodies, and she wonders if you love as romantically as such songs. Her mind wanders to the thought of you serenading her in the moonlight, or serenading her in a more domestic setting. The sudden thought of you humming along to these tunes while you cooked or cleaned allowed made her cheeks flush a bit. Jihyo was right: Sana is a hopeless romantic. She’s too far in to get out of the hole of these feelings, and her heart aches a little, the guilt piles up.

You on the other hand are freaking out.

Sana likes your lovey-dovey taste in music, and she seems content (Sana's having a crisis). Maybe you do have a chance with this woman, I mean, she’s already in your car and letting you take her home. Maybe you can do this again, maybe you can listen to songs like this together in a more intimate setting rather than your car, and maybe you can do more than just listen to Ella Fitzgerald together. All the maybe’s in your head are cut short as you reach her place and park in front of her apartment complex.

“We’re here.” You mutter, and you wish you weren’t.

Sana nods and reaches for the eco-friendly bag she had set down, unbuckles her seatbelt, then turns so that her eyes stare into yours with a new intensity. She puts her left hand on your right hand that had been gripping the gear shift ever so gently, your jaw tenses a bit and your left hand that had been on the wheel tightens its hold once more. She looks from your eyes to your lips, then back to your eyes again. Your heart is suddenly an acrobat the way it's doing so many flips.

“Thank you again, I appreciate it.” She says, and her other hand is on the handle of the door, ready to get out, but she doesn’t.

“Anytime, I didn’t want you to be out alone at this time.” you wonder how that sentence leaves your mouth so calmly because your heart is beating at least two hundred times per minute.

Sana’s lips curve into a smile again and you relax a bit,

“Well,” Sana starts, and she opens the door, “I’ll see you soon?”

“I’m picking up Hana on Monday.”

“Great. See you then, y/n.” She finally says, turning away and getting out of the car. You two look at each other again and your eye contact lingers a bit before she finally closes the door, waves, and turns to head inside the apartment complex.

The music continues to play, and your heart longs for her once again.

I stand at your gate

And I sing you a song in the moonlight

A love song, my darling

A moonlight serenade

A week passes after this encounter, and Sana is currently giving the kids an announcement that might have them jumping off the walls.

“Alright everyone in your seats please.” She says kindly. The students listen to her and shuffle to their seats, some chatter being shared as they do so. Sana claps her hands in a pattern to bring the students’ attention to her, and they clap their hands the same way that she had, quieting down in the process.

“Alright everyone, before I make this announcement, I need everyone to behave and not get too rowdy, okay?”

“Yes Ms. Minatozaki!” The class answers enthusiastically. Sana nods and smiles at them,

“Alright. So, there’s a special trip that is planned for you all next week.” She begins. The kids' faces start to light up after hearing the words “special trip” and almost all of them are itching to get more details on it. Sana’s face seems to light up with theirs from just looking at the excitement on their faces, so she continues,

“Next Wednesday we will be spending the day at the art museum downtown. There are going to be multiple people guiding you throughout the museum, and you’ll be able to learn about the art.” Sana explains, “And, at the end of the trip we’ll all meet back at a special room where you can paint along with an instructor.”

The kids’ smiles grow even wider, some are whispering to each other while others continue to keep their attention on the young teacher.

“Now, I also wanted to add that we will be needing some chaperones to help look after the class. I have some papers that I’ll give to you, make sure you show them to your mom, dad, or guardian. If they’d like to tag along to help out that would be great, and highly encouraged.” Sana says, pulling out a pile of papers from her desk, she begins to pass around said forms.

An hour passes and it’s free choice time. Hana walks up to the young teacher with the form that Sana had previously handed out. Sana smiles at the young girl and tilts her head,

“What is it, Hana? Is everything okay?” The young teacher questions,

“Um, Ms… What does guardian mean? You said mom, dad, and guardian earlier. Does that mean grown up?” Hana asks, and she looks at the paper as if her five-year-old self can read the whole thing with ease,

“I guess so. It’s an adult who takes care of you.” Sana explains to the girl. The girl hums to herself and furrows her brows,

“Does that mean y/n can come?”

“Of course, she’s your mom isn’t she?” Sana asks, and she’s confused as to why the girl looks up at her in surprise,

“My mom?”

“Yes… She’s your mom, no?”

“Ms. Minatozaki, Y/n is my aunt.”

Sana’s whole world stops for a moment. Y/n is her aunt?

“So your dad and her are…?”

“Y/n is my papa’s younger sister, she always jokes about him being so old,” Hana says, laughing to herself.

Sana genuinely stops functioning as she processes this new information: You’re not taken. Fireworks set off in her heart and confetti seems to pop: you’re not her mom. All the guilt that had been on her shoulders from thinking she was infatuated with a taken mother is gone, and it all makes sense now. Sana wonders how stupid she could’ve been, I mean, you and Hana’s dad had similar features, face shape, hair texture, and color. The young teacher had also realized that Hana only called you by your name, and not “mommy” or “mom” or anything like that; how could she have been so stupid?

“Ms. Minatozaki?”

“Oh, yeah, yes Hana. Y/n can come, of course, she can.” Sana says, and she really hopes you do come. Hana smiles and looks back at her paper before talking to her teacher again,

“You know, my aunt, she asks about you a lot.”

“She does?” Sana says, her heart skips a beat. Hana nods and looks back up at the teacher,

“She always asks about how school was, but she always ends up asking more about you and how you were during the day.” Sana’s eyes widen and she looks at the young girl in front of her, exposing you for being so interested in her.

The flame in her heart grows bigger, and it seems that the flame has no intention of dying down now that she knows you’re not Hana’s mother. Hana turns around and makes her way back to her desk to color after seeing that Sana wasn’t capable of responding again, and Sana doesn't even notice. Hana sits down unbothered, not knowing that she just turned Sana’s whole mood around, not knowing that this new piece of information will have her daydreaming the rest of the day – no, the rest of the week – maybe the rest of the month.

The school day comes to an end and the usual routine occurs: bell rings, kids scream, talk, and practically leap out of their seats to get in line to go to the entrance of the building. Sana waits with her usual group of eight, which includes Hana, and she hopes that today would be the day that you decided to pick her up. You had already picked Hana up on Monday, but now it’s Wednesday and those are the days that Hana’s dad would usually pick the little girl up, great.

Forty minutes pass and Sana sits down at the main office with Hana, no one had come to pick her up yet. Hana seems to be unbothered by this as she colors and draws on the sheet of paper that Sana had given her to cure her boredom, but she worries slightly since Jihyo still waits for her in the front.

Sana texts Jihyo a string of apologies and explanations and before she reads the instant reply, the sound of heavy breaths are heard as a familiar face enters the room, looking around all worried until her body relaxes when she sees her niece.

Y/n lets out a sigh of relief seeing Hana sitting down, coloring as if there wasn’t a single problem in the world. Her look shifts over to Sana, who is already looking at her. Their eyes meet and it makes the two women smile at one another.

“Hana,” your voice makes the little girl turn her head. She smiles and runs up to hug you, leaving her art on the desk,

“Aunt y/n!” And this is the first time Sana hears the little girl actually call you her aunt, she wishes that she would’ve called you aunt earlier (it would've saved her sleepless nights of wondering what the hell to do with her feelings, but at least she knows now).

You hug the little girl back and swipe away the strands of hair on her face, “Hi little one. Your dad had something come up at work, I rushed over as soon as my shift ended.” You explain. You turn back to share eye contact with the young teacher, eyes narrowing and lips curving upwards as you smile at her, “Thank you for watching her, I’m sorry for being so late.”

“It’s all right, really.” It’s more than all right, Sana thinks.

You grin again and turn your attention back to your niece, “Ready to go?”

“Yup!”

“Okay little one, come on.” and you crouch down to let her wrap around your shoulders, letting her piggyback ride you. You grab the art that your niece had made on the table and finally stand in front of Sana, thanking her.

“I’m sorry again, thank you so much.”

“It’s no problem, it’s nice to see you again,” Sana admits, a bit shyly too. The grin that’s already present on your lips grows and you wave to the shorter woman,

“I’ll see you.” You finally say, waving with your free hand and turning your head to the little one, “Let’s get going, your dad will be back by dinner.” You mutter, and Hana hums tiredly in response before you head out the main office doors, taking a quick glance at Sana, smiling again.

…

Jihyo’s going to lose her mind when I tell her all of this, Sana thinks to herself.

#sana imagines #kpop x reader #sana x reader #twice sana #twice x reader #gay gay gay #twice imagines #minatozaki sana #sana fluff

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ichorai · 1 year ago

Text

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

track ten of BROKEN MACHINE.

pairing ; roman roy x f!reader

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

words ; 16.2k

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

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

series masterlist. main masterlist.

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

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

And there was you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your eyes widened. “I want a quarter.”

“Lose your own tooth, then.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Happy New Year, Ro,” you whispered.

The two of you never spoke of the kiss again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You okay, Rome?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I think I’m…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m looking,” you said, unimpressed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Roman came into your office without knocking.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No—”

“Easy. You go with me,” said Rome.

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

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

“You’re so annoying.”

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

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

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

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

“I don’t… it’s, uh, it’s a question.”

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

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

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

“I know.”

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

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

“You’re doing jokes?” Roman snickered.

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

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

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

“Doesn’t wanna go with you. Got it.”

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

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

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

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

“It’s not cool. I’m her boss.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You just—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thanks,” you murmured.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You blew out a sigh. “Rome—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You were being rude.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You and Rome glanced at each other rather incredulously.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You did neither.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Shiv laughed over her glass of wine.

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

More prickly laughter.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No, we’re, uh… going steady.”

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

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

“Hey—!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Roman.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Huh?”

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

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

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

Did he?

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You lose,” repeated Iverson.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, fuck off, Romeo.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ll invite you next time.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Uh-huh,” Shiv skeptically said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Excuse me?” said Connor, baffled.

“Yeah, you just would not stop.”

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

“You are one sick puppy,” Connor agreed.

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

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

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

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

Both you and Shiv shook your heads.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You talked in your sleep,” Roman snickered.

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

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

“You liked to be the small spoon.”

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

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

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

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

“Nighty-night, bitch.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No. Fuck. Maybe later.”

“Okay, Rome. Are you okay?”

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

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

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

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

“Lucky her. Will she be back?”

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

“Was it even fun in the first place?”

He gave you a half-hearted shrug.

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

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

“Shiv bailed?”

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

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

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

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

“Yeah. Whatever.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You want me to jump?” asked Alon.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“He hit his teeth?” said Connor.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The fucked up godfather-goddaughter duo.

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

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

“Ah, I, uhm—”

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

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

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

We? you thought.

“What are you asking me, Uncle?”

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

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

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

“Smile for the camera,” he said.

You nodded, smiling stiffly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Kendall snorted. “Tanner makes good points.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Neither you nor Roman had the heart to correct him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mmh. Those are good, too.”

“Mhm.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mostly, yeah.”

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

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

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

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

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

The both of you grimaced at your wording.

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

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

“Yeah?”

“You with him, then?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Not really, actually—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“She said I should marry her.”

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

“And?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I wasn’t being serious.”

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

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

“Okay.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hi.”

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

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

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

“Yeah, what if?”

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

“No,” she said.

“No?”

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

“Why is this crazy?”

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

“What? Why?”

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

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

“Mmh, no, we don’t.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You okay?”

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

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

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

“I asked Tabitha. She said no.”

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

“Shut up. Just… just hold me.”

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

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

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

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

“I know. Eugh.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Of course, Uncle Logan.”

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

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

“Hey, Y/N, enjoying the party?”

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

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

“What? What about him?”

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

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

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

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

“About?”

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

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

Dread filled your stomach.

“No?”

“None,” said the woman.

“None? Like—none none? None at all?”

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

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

“No, but it’s still tragic how—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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